So, I'm under deadline. I know it seems like I was just under deadline, and that's because I was.
For those of you who don't know, I'm revising EVERNEATH 2: It's Everneath-ier. This time around, we are focusing on world-building.
And let me tell you something right now: I was born without the world-building bone in my elbow. Doctors were amazed; they would take my x-rays around and show other doctors, and remark, "This little baby is going to have a helluva time trying to build a world that's not exactly like the one we live on."
Most of my world-building looks like this:
Okay, so lets take a planet:
Now we have to ask ourselves, where will the people live?
Let's add some land:
Good. Now, how will life grow? What will the people drink?
Let's add some water.
And... oh crap. I've made Earth. AGAIN!
Then I crumble up the paper and throw it away and start over.
I was supposed to world-build in the last round of edits, but instead I threw in some razzle-dazzle. I gave my editor the old flim-flam-flummox, then I dazed and dizzied her, because how could she see that I couldn't world build when she had sequins in her eyes?
As a final number, I threw in a tap dance.
But the thing is, I can't tap dance, and my editor could see just fine with the sequins in her eyes, and she still said, "Hey, how about we world-build a little?"
Then I tried to explain to her about my unique anatomy:
So, yon bloggerville, I think I can do this too.
But just in case, does anyone know what the Underworld looks like? Anyone at all? Geography and demography would be great. And for heaven's sake, do not let it resemble Earth!
For those of you who don't know, I'm revising EVERNEATH 2: It's Everneath-ier. This time around, we are focusing on world-building.
And let me tell you something right now: I was born without the world-building bone in my elbow. Doctors were amazed; they would take my x-rays around and show other doctors, and remark, "This little baby is going to have a helluva time trying to build a world that's not exactly like the one we live on."
Most of my world-building looks like this:
Okay, so lets take a planet:
Now we have to ask ourselves, where will the people live?
Let's add some land:
Good. Now, how will life grow? What will the people drink?
Let's add some water.
And... oh crap. I've made Earth. AGAIN!
Then I crumble up the paper and throw it away and start over.
I was supposed to world-build in the last round of edits, but instead I threw in some razzle-dazzle. I gave my editor the old flim-flam-flummox, then I dazed and dizzied her, because how could she see that I couldn't world build when she had sequins in her eyes?
As a final number, I threw in a tap dance.
But the thing is, I can't tap dance, and my editor could see just fine with the sequins in her eyes, and she still said, "Hey, how about we world-build a little?"
Then I tried to explain to her about my unique anatomy:
But she was not impressed. Apparently, she thinks I can do this.
So, yon bloggerville, I think I can do this too.
But just in case, does anyone know what the Underworld looks like? Anyone at all? Geography and demography would be great. And for heaven's sake, do not let it resemble Earth!
