The soundtrack’s definitely Arcade Fire and Magnolia Electric Company/Songs Ohia. The mood’s somber but punctuated by absurdist humor. The themes are threading through the text, and the text is simplifying and complicating itself. The characters are branching and changing and doing odd things to the plot. The plot is coming to lift itself clear while still being inundated and bombarded by solid state narrative particles. Long walks in the woods are bringing a whole world into being in my head, and I’m assimilating people’s mannerisms, textures, sounds, at a heady rate. I’m an Absorber of Nothing Spectacular. I’m having moments of religious ecstacy–the religion of story-building. I’m having moments of euphoria and then of near tears. Means nothing to the reader, necessarily, but means a lot to me. (“That’s nice, Jeff. You go on cracking up to get in deep, but leave us out of it.”)
Perhaps more importantly, I feel like I’m on a journey I’ve never been on before–in fact, a journey I can find few parallels to in the history of fiction. Given that my next fiction project after Borne, Komodo, is similarly unique, at the very least I’m going to crash and burn and bounce through the wreckage in ways no one’s done before.