House of Dyes: The Road Thus Far… (Verse 3)

I took some time off this fantasy novel, to write shorter pieces and to work on some pieces for submissions to literary journals.

So in the last month or so, I’ve only written about 30k words. The WIP now sits at 100k words. And I’m only halfway through. Two thirds if I’m lucky.

The current story arc am working on Echo’s Lament for Narcissus, has taken so much time to finish, because it’s constantly evolving and mutating. Things have changed, the story has progressed towards its own agenda.

It’s the one story in the book that I wanted to be both futile and sensitive, a story of violent and consuming impulses, both good and terrible, but all laced with a transience that was of sentiments and sensations that wouldn’t last. It’s now just a procession of mystery boxes circling around each other.

I had intended the story to tackle the what you would do if you knew you’d get away with it.

Now it’s more about Salvation, about whom you’d save, if you couldn’t save yourself.

Echo’s Lament for Narcissus is a story about a futuristic society in which man has successfully created God– an artificial intelligence called the All-thing and the only people allowed to dream are precogs (precognition) and thus, they map out the future.

It’s essentially about a decommissioned precog who dreams the death of her sister and tries to go into the dreamspace and try to change her sister’s fate. But there are a lot of tests of worthiness and character, and complex paradoxes… In the end will she chose to sacrifice herself or all she’s been risking it for?

It’s like Minority Report meets Inception meets The Matrix. It’s a fairy tell adventure fraught with as much drama as magical realism.

The story deals with a lot with time manipulation, dream physics, magical realism, nihilism, uncertainty principles and the concept of probability. It’s terribly trying to melt all these concepts into one coherent story arc, that’s why the story is growing all kinda limbs. Its mutating and morphing and splitting into too many streams of narration, that all am doing is playing catch-up.

But I gotta love the challenge, it’s why I set out to write this book in the first place, none of the stories were meant to be in my comfort zone. I wanted to put myself through the fire, and am only halfway climbing the pyre pyramid, it isn’t getting easier, but the grip’s hardening.

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