VHS Glory

Writing Milestones. Hofstadter’s Law. Decades. Older Work. And Return To Knight Field.

First of all, thanks so much for reading this newsletter. I haven’t decided listing writing milestones is healthy or not—sometimes books just take a long time. But let’s do it anyway. This year, here is where various writing projects ended up:

• I wrote twenty-five articles across the JPLA (this newsletter) and regular, old-fashioned website, averaging slightly less than two per month. The majority were outside of any paywall—freely given. Next year, I have a resolution to increase the total number (paid and non-paid). For the paid portion, I want to leverage some of this work for a non-fiction book of sorts; that said, not every project makes it to the finish.

• Worked two writing applications in Python. My clone. A writing analysis application, including experiments with summary analysis on long form databases.

• Finished a rough draft of what might be my last fairy tale morality book—everything is a trilogy. I’ll be sending this out to beta readers in 2025.

• Completed another draft of my currently “untitled” magnum opus. It’s not War and Peace in scale. Yet, the work closed in on 200,000 plus words, meaning I need to trim about 90,000. That’s hard. Novels do have certain commonalities with businesses. Getting a 10,000 to 20,000 novella off the ground is challenging but doable (though they don’t sell as well). Scale problems arise in creation above 50,000—everything becomes more complicated, costly too. Larger, it’s often hard for the writer to see inherent flaws, even if I build writing tools to find them.

While planning next year’s resolutions and projects, I received an email—yes, folks send messages to me using a web form. Assuming it’s legitimate or doesn’t become flagged as SPAM (I overuse filtering), I might see it. This was simple, quick. A perfect sales email for generating interest.

The title read, “JS2.”

And the email’s body, “????”

I don’t have an easy answer outside of a shrug emoji. That’s somewhat the point of this newsletter; it embraces nuance and hidden meanings, some real while others are imagined. If you have no idea what the note refers to, I wrote Knights of Legend, Jason Sheridan Chronicles Volume 1 over a ten-year period, finishing sometime in 2012. Writing a book was a bucket list item of sorts. I worked hard to finish, not really knowing what I was doing (I wrote a post on the project in 2015).

At the time, I had no formal training but used more than a little grit. With Jason, my ultimate goal was to create a lasting story. It ended up being that and far more than I bargained for because everything in life takes longer than you think.

This is often referred to as Hofstadter’s Law: “It always takes longer than you expect, even when you take into account Hofstadter’s Law.”

And then there is Murphy’s Law, which contributes to everything taking longer than it should. There’s scope creep too; always document the constraints before beginning. If only I’d thought of that sooner.

If you’re a video gamer, Naughty Dog studios announced a new project in December. They’re the Sony studio behind Uncharted and The Last Of Us—both spun off a movie and popular series. I’d say the film wasn’t successful, but I’ve never had anyone make a movie from what rattles around in my imagination. Being picked is a success.

How long did it take the studio to make both properties? Over ten years—hundreds of developers, designers, and writers.

A Decade Is The Going Rate In The Creative Business

Sure, some authors can churn a book out annually. But I’d argue that Michael Connolly, James Patterson, and Brandon Sanderson have large teams. James Patterson’s Cross has solved crimes for over a decade. Have I mentioned things just take time? Dig into your mailbox and find my last newsletter mention about Donna Tartt.

If you’ve read Volume 1 of the Chronicles, the plot is straightforward—a battle between angel and devil. They torment high school kids. Yet, it has a winding road as Act I impacts Act III in a circular manner (hard to explain unless you’ve read it). Scar placement matters, I think. It’s been a while.

Because of this frustrating nuance, I’ve found it hard to return to Jason’s world. He’s Sir Galahad in a 1980s Book of Job re-telling. Also, he’s a boring character. That’s somewhat by design. In King Arthur, we remember Lancelot and Mordred. The cursory characters steal the show. Galahad takes a back seat because it’s the situation around the perfect knight that matters, how he responds makes him memorable.

But returning to Jackson County almost ten years later? I’d be an outsider. And I’d have this paralyzing fear of getting the character wrong.

Finding a Lost Manuscript

Yet, the email triggered a question. I began inventorying my notes and outline on all things Chronicles. What’s fascinating is that I found a complete draft of the sequel. Yes, a draft is a draft—there were dozens from the first book.

I read it. There’s a story here. Yet, it’s raw.

If you loved the baseball parts in the first, there is nothing here outside of some winks and nods. But the original characters appear. Alfred Morgones? Check. John Mallory? He has to make an appearance, right? Also, the fantastical 80s steampunk Mid-West setting is still there; I leaned into this more.

Why did I put it down for so long?

Well, I wasn’t sure how to finish the series. But I had an idea brewing. The spine does say Volume 1. Would I be copping out if I didn’t take the next step? Who knows? Why not? Do something different?

In life, I doubt I’ll regret the things I did. But I might regret what I didn’t finish. Why am I squeezing a full edit of this thing in again?

Don’t hate me if it doesn’t work out like you thought it might. I’m the ultimate fan cheering for Jason, writing what I see. Make no mistake, he’s the lead in this adventure. His legend looms in Steampunk Jackson County. The decisions, ultimately, are his to make.

In that vein, I wrote a chapter, perhaps for the final volume. I laugh typing this, “You might not see the rest for a decade.”

So here we go.

VHS Glory

Jason’s head spun as he ascended the rickety stairs. He brushed his fingers over the peeling, faded wallpaper, feeling a faint buzz of electricity at the touch. Questions churned. Why am I here again? How is this happening?