06/14/10 Unfinished

The 33rd day

Upstairs in my room, in my closet, is a large blue-gray binder. Within it, 200 pages of hand written material, an unfinished novel that I began writing late 1999. It had just started as a pet project, just to see how far it would go, but it became so much more.

The novel was supposed to be a medieval epic involving some less than savory individuals being caught in the middle of a holy war between demon knights and a secretive brotherhood sworn to protect the most sacred of artifacts. In my youth, I was certain that I was going to accomplish finishing it, getting it published without fail, and become an author as significant as Crichton or King. I had a fantastic plan about how I would write about 8 books, 4 from this series of the novel I was writing, and the 8th being something called Dys’KonT’nt, a personal journal that seeps from my head similar to the john doe diaries from the movie “seven”. It’s funny how like works out sometimes.

For me at that age, I would spend the next two years staying awake at night, writing at a small desk by candlelight. A CD player would be nearby, softly playing some sort of Celtic music to help with the creative process. Often I would use incense to enhance the mood a bit to really entrench me in the whole process.

With such ferocity I scribbled out pages of notes and theory, outlines and concepts. I designed demonic language and weapons side by side with blessed weapons and artifacts. A good night of writing was 5 to 6 pages minimum and 10+ was amazing. There were nights I would wear out the pen before I was worn out. The words flowed so easy back when I was writing at every opportunity.

Years have passed, and the book remains unfinished. I shelved it in 2003 because we were moving, and the book was at it’s most pivotal moment. I wanted it to be perfect as I searched for the exact works to explain what were the true motivations of the war. I spent a few nights writing and rewriting the part, then of course I had to move, and life caught up to me.

So now the book lays in my closet as a testament to what could have been and an effigy to procrastination. For the first time in a few years I pulled it out to take a photo of it, to put on this blog. There is so much of my time and effort in this work, and yet it’s not done. My unfinished business.

I think I just found some reading material. Maybe…just maybe…

MK