WATER is your chinese symbol!
What Chinese Symbol Are You?
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In Stratford Man related news, I figured out what the troll was for last night during my walk, while listening to Oingo Boingo on my headphones.
And as I was just telling tanaise, it's comforting to realize that even the greats found writing annoying. I can't find the sonnet now for some damned reason, but one of Shakespeare's cracked me up this weekend. The poem contains an awful lot of bitching that basically boils down to, "Why the hell does everything I write always sound like *meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*? I hate that!"
I also think I understand part of why I'm having such a hard time wrapping my brain around this book. Three reasons, I think:
1) I think this is my shiniest idea yet, and I don't want to blow it.
2) It's easily three to four times as long as anything I've written, and the metal leap necessary to make that shift is as complex as the one from short stories to novels
3) It's the same feeling I had about Hammered, which seems to have been my journeyman piece. The three books I finished before that one were apprentice work, I think. So I'm starting to think of The Stratford Man as my master piece (in the guild hall sense, not the "it's a masterpiece" sense).
This is more difficult than anything I've tried before. I somehow know that if I can pull this off, it will be something very special. And I'm scared of blowing it.
Ah well. "You don't learn how to write novels; you learn how to write this novel." -- Gene Wolfe
The good news is, with six manuscripts more or less finished, at the very least I have bought myself a little breathing time. So I can take my time and do it right.