Me: I am in this kind of drifty, exhausted, sleep-deprived place. It is doing funny things to my head. And my spelling. My head space is not aided by the fact that I just read this story that was all deep and metaphysical and twisty with philosophy and literary references. It was not fun per se but it was fascinatingly constructed. And now my head is so far from where it needs to be for Wizards.
Arkem: Which is less fascinating and more fun?
Me: I define Wizards as ‘ridiculous’ at most opportunities. There is depth there but I’m trying to hide it in the corners so no one notices. At least for this book. Which is better than Path which currently frolics onto the page all drunk and ditzy, grabs you by the wrist and drags you into hell. I should fix that.
Arkem: Heh. Fix.
Me: I’m not trying to traumatise people. Well. Only with their cooperation. Preferably.
My books always start off a laugh riot with the drinking and falling down. The serious parts come later. So far Wizards has no serious parts. I mean, serious things happen but no-one takes them seriously.
I think, perhaps, that considering how far down the dark road Path goes that it should start out somewhere not so fluffy. Otherwise anyone who likes the fluffy that begins it will be all thrown by the trauma that’s coming and anyone who wants something heavier might not persevere beyond the fluff. I am as much in favour of dragging the rug out from under people and subverting expectations as the next person, but there’s a limit beyond which it seems more like a betrayal of the reader.
At this point I’m kind of hoping that I can keep Wizards in the shallow end of the pool. Okay, not shallow. Say, in a boat. Where the dark stuff is all there beneath the surface and you can see it, and dangle your feet in it but you’re not drowning. (I’ll save that up for when you’re four or five books in and you’re invested.)