365 to the 666

One year. That's all that remains until 6/6/06. Which, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, is the date that the world is supposed to end in the story (the ever elusive "Perth story") that has been in my mind for ...a while now.

Sigh.

I was looking through an old journal of mine, and I found the very first mention of the Perth story. October 14th, 1998. Seven years.

For seven years I have had the basic idea of this epic tale hitching along in my brain. And as of this writing, I still don't have much more. I don't know all the characters (I know a few of them - Choset, of course. And Fulle. Noah. Mr. and Mrs. Porter and their two children (names of all four at this point are still maleable. Although Mama Porter is probably named Vivian). Xil. Connie Rivers. Phoenix McDowell. Andi(lus) Be's daughter...).

I still don't know what's going to happen in the end. Or how they'll get there. Hell I don't even know what's going to happen in the beginning. I have ideas, of course, but nothing etched in stone, as it were. I mean, I know parts of the story. I have some of the scenes in mind - the events of 6/6/06 - but the after? Much more vague. And the before? Less so.

Sigh.

I toyed with the idea of having today's blog entry be the notes and basic outline of the story - instead of actually writing it, I would just tell the P@riots out there what would happen. You know, if someone actually wrote it. A recap, sorta. Or precap, maybe? Whatever. Anyway, I was thinking about this earlier today, and while the idea was being mulled over in my mind, I started to get excited about the actual story again. And the idea of finishing (or, um, you know, starting really) the damn thing was enticing. Note that this idea happened while I was away from the computer.

So. For a while I was all hyped up about the Choset story (it's really more his tale than Perth's. I mean, yeah, it [may] take place in Perth - at least the climax - but really, he's the catalyst for the whole shebang. Heh. Shebang.), but since then...I don't know. I mean, will I really work on it at all in the next year? Honestly? Probably not. But if I did - if I just ignored the stupid inner critic saying that it's crappy (and, yeah, it would be, because, hey, have you read the stuff I write?) and just write it with the goal of having ME enjoy it...it could be done.

In conclusion, stay off the roads one year from today. Just to be safe.