A Life Of Fiction CXXII

For those of you new to this WordPress site, this site is about me and my writing – and a little about my role-playing, as well. It gives readers a chance to sample my work; and gives me the chance to say a little about the genesis of each novel, or about the process of writing in general.

 

I must be crazy: Yes, you heard it here first, the writer of this blog has gone crazy, confirming what my friends have suspected for many years.

An explanation: I am not confined in some straitjacket in a modern version of Bedlam, slowly banging my head against the padded walls of my room. I am not going to appear in a new version of One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. I am not seeing any psychiatrists or therapists… at the moment.

But the reason for my self-diagnosis of insanity is that I have just begun planning another five novels of a Pulp / Gaslight Romance series which I many never actually finish. The series is the one chronicling the adventures of Alfred Parkinson and Franklin Duffield.

I have completed the first three novels of their adventures, set in the 1920s and 1930s: The Madman of the Air; Captain Renegade; and Phantom Island. But I now have decided that there will be a grand total of fourteen novels in the series, up from the nine which I had planned. The eleven unwritten novels are Mister Pierre; The Cult Of The Black Bane; Assassins; Doctor Sunlight; Wayland Smith; Jack-In-The-Green; The Mystery Of Ponape; Lost Empire Of The Garamantes; Heart Of Ice; Nephilim; Swastika; and Australia.

Like I said, I am a little bit touched. But, recently, I sat down and envisaged the plot ideas for these extra five novels: and they were ones which I wanted to write.

Suddenly I was caught up in the desire to put words to paper (so to speak), Rather than writing being a chore, or something to pass the time (which it had been in danger of becoming) it became a pleasure once more. I found myself writing not only in the morning and early afternoon, but into the evening. I’d turn off my computer for the day but then, a couple of hours later, have to turn it back on because there were ideas that I had to put down, while they were still fresh in my mind.

I have sketched out a very rough idea of what will happen in each of those Parkinson and Duffield novels. In my mind, mad as it is, I know the main events of them all, up to and including Australia, which will be the last novel featuring those two characters.

I had better go. I’ve got eleven novels to write.

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