platypus by cranefly

[cranefly]

This platypus should be considered the equivalent of DM's albatross, except that instead of hanging around my neck and causing neck problems (like for DM), the said platypus is secreted elsewhere on or in my person.
As a favor, don't ask what you're currently wanting to ask.

On April 15 Lady Cranefly reminded me that she had signed me up for a novel workshop and the first 50 pages were due in a week.
Yep, I'd plumb forgot, and hadn't a clue what the novel would be. But I took the matter seriously and wrote something.
Of course, that was just the beginning. The novel needed to be done by May 29. If you check your microwave, you'll see that that's today.

Well, I delivered it just minutes ago (which is to say I uploaded it to the workshop group), a big bouncing 319-page thing.

I'm feeling very good about it right now, maybe just because it feels so good to finally take a break. But 319 pages in a month and a half isn't something to sneeze at. True, when you write that fast, you're usually delusional, and anything you believe about what you've done is delusional. But, well, those pages now exist when a month and a half ago they weren't pages at all but precious living trees growing deep in the rainforest.

What's the novel about? Well, it's science fiction. And you know how there's been a lot of science fiction novels and movies about going to Mars. Well I decided to write a novel about NOT going to Mars. The title of my novel is Anti-Mars. See? Pretty fucking clever, eh?

Here's my proposed tag line for the cover:

What do you do when your wife goes to Mars?
You go to Anti-Mars.

I hope to hell they don't use that, because it's a horrible tag line.

Lady Cranefly stumbled across one of my novel notes on the opium couch this morning. She came into my room while I was madly typing away and asked, "Are you writing a science fiction soap opera?"

You're probably wondering what type of notes I leave around. A calculus of combinatorial partnering, eh? With stereoisotopic configurations in 9 dimensions. Anyway, it does give me an idea for another tag line.

In space, no one can hear your soap opera moan.

Sometimes it's best not to have a tag line at all...

Or even a title...

--cranefly

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Are they just killing trees out of spite when you upload material onto the interwebs? Otherwise your analogy breaks. I'm early and I'm feeling literal.

You could have a whole anti-planet series!!

[Drunk Monk]

Is that what you were thinking when the mianbao hit that tree and nearly tore your nose off?

Because that would make sense to me.

Either that or a veiled excuse to see every Rachel Welch film ever. As if you'd need an excuse for that.

[El Dingo]

Anti-Mars is an anagram for Martians.

We're onto you.

[cranefly]

Oh god...
I'm going to have to work that into the novel. No question.

BTW, I've been quietly trying to ignore the fact that, now that the novel workshop is done, I need to rework the novel based on all the insightful comments I received.

Clearly, I'm not as open about my laggardliness as DM. But he's flushed me out, pushed this topic back into the light. I've been dragging my heels, finding a million excuses not to tackle the rewrite. Okay, I need to confront this, get started. I will.

As for the story DM alluded to, I don't clearly recall its genesis. I wrote it and sold it several years ago, but as often happens in the publishing field, it took years for it to see the light. No doubt that disastrous end to our Shaolin trip was grist for the story, but perhaps not the initial spark.

BTW, I had read the following on the Web: "The name Antares means 'rival of Mars' or 'anti-Mars.'"

An interesting tidbit, but irrelevant for my novel. But that anagram thing... Yeah, I believe I can work that in. Thanks, ED.

--cranefly

[Drunk Monk]

So the collection centers around the old surrealist game, the exquisite corpse. I've played that game. It can be fun. But sometimes some one ruins it by knocking it clear out of the ballpark before it even gets going. That's what CF did, and it's only the second ec player in the collection (the first is a painting). The successive players struggle to bring it back to something, but they've been so blown out by CF's surrealist sensibility, that any attempt to continue forces their hands to normalcy. Nice going, CF. You shut all the others out. After your play, they couldn't even in the game.

[cranefly]

[Drunk Monk]

...because the oral copulation scene in your last book was very disturbing and gave me nightmares.

[cranefly]

Oh, yeah, I remember that. But these days that's so "missionary position." This is the age of vertigore, amputease and human centipedes, oh my. So, yeah, Anti-Mars is a bit over the top.

And I even worked in ED's anagram of Anti-Mars ==> Martians (thanks again, ED).

Here's an update of the painting. Not certain the teaser, "Just how wrong can a mission possibly go?" is strong enough. Am coming up with alternates, such as, "Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the crater..." Hmmm, still needs work...

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Where can we find this delightful Opus? Is there a version with outre sex redacted?

[Drunk Monk]

i just want to dominate the forum again