Friday, July 15, 2011

July 15th

Yesterday, after a sabbatical of several weeks, Keith rediscovered the joys of his battery powered wasp of a helicopter. He alternated between flying it in and around my personal airspace, and looking up youtube videos of gas powered trucks.

I don't know which whine was worse; the helicopter's whirling steel blades, or the teeny, tiny gas engines in the studly little trucks.

If some diabolical person comes up with a miniature version of the M1 Abrams tank, we are in serious trouble here in the Indiana household, that's all I can say.

I was irritable anyway. Story junctions always make me irritable. It's a good thing I wrote the Ceallach story before getting into this one; I kind of know what to expect.

For the reader, it's all "Oooooo, yet another setting! Interesting characters! I wonder what happens here?" At least, I hope it is. I know I feel that way as a reader.

For me, it's nothing but hassle. "Damn it, more reading! Damn it, I was just beginning to get a feel for the ship! How about I just extend that time a wee bit? Put them out on deck chairs to chill? I don't know anything about this damn place. More characters to come up with-argh!! I've no idea what happens, how they get anywhere, or how long it takes them!"

However, I have decided upon the vital question of landscape morality. I've decided to go with human actions impacting landscape, via the whole stewardship thing. If humans display poor stewardship of their bit of land, that land turns sour.

Therefore, the Ganges river is going to be a foe. Antarctica was pristine because, well, it is pristine, or pretty close to it, still. The ocean is incorruptible because, well, Tolkien said so. And the pirate daemons keep it that way.

I have changed their route; they are avoiding Calcutta, or Kolkata, like the plague. It just doesn't make sense for them to sail up the Hoolghy river at all when they can take the Padma and avoid that massive, festering city, which would be especially terrible due it history, population size and age.

The Padma river is the border between India and Bangladesh- this whole story has been great for my geography skills, let me tell you. Both rivers are essentially the Ganges, it's just that once the Ganges reaches its delta, it splinters off into this mind blowing maze of different rivers and channels, making up the word's largest delta. It's called "The Mouths of the Ganges," once they all pour into the Bay of Bengal. Which is cool: it sounds so ominous.

It would be very cool if they met up with a matriarchal tribe of wise elephants. I'll have to research that possibility. They might make their way up the Kosi river banks on elephant back.