I’m back again! Researching giant statues this morning, for the sake of getting in the mood to work on a scene in The Open Book. Yes, I did just give part of it away. You’ll forget about it by the time the book comes out, most likely.
Of all of the giant statues in the world, I believe the only four I’ve had the privilege of seeing are the Crazy Horse Mountain Monument and Mount Rushmore (back in the 80’s), Rodina Mat (The Motherland Statue in Kiev, Russia) in 1989, and the Virgin Mary at the Basilica of the National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima in Lewiston, New York (around 2004). I saw a good many statues while in Italy a few years ago, though none as large as the ones listed here. It’s a fascinating thing to me–seeing depictions of people and animals (and even objects) portrayed larger than life. Maybe it’s a perspective thing and reminds me of how small and insignificant we are, but how great of an impact we can have. I’m not sure, but I will always stand and stare in awe when I see something greater in size than myself. Massive buildings fit this as well. I can only imagine what it would be like to stand before the Sphinx.
Between my last post and now, I only wrote 2 pages for The Open Book. I guess I just wasn’t feeling it yesterday (not that I’m really there today so far). I jotted down two and a half pages for a weird not-too-distant-future story involving three kinds of human mutations that are the result of–basically–the surmounting stress and chaos from the circus that is our current presidential election year. It gets a lot better for some, and for others, not so much. That’s the good news. The bad news–it gets much, much worse for everyone first, just as we can all see already. No one is coming out of this unscathed, least of all those who think they will. (Exit soapbox, as that’s not a road I care to travel.)
The other thing I worked on, was a one page reversal of perspective for the “Mister Coventry” story that I started about a month or so ago, wrote and wrote on for days and heaps of pages, and then stopped because it traveled down too weird of a road. I could easily keep it going and write out the entirety of what I already have from one point of view, in this other version, but I don’t know that it would be worth the time. Maybe I will at some point–when I’m too stuck elsewhere. Who knows? Maybe it will end up better telling the story. Sometimes it’s not the story that needs to change, but the perspective. Huh. Food for thought.