Some thoughts I’ve been kicking around…
Most of you…all of you…may have noticed the sudden evolution taking place with genre writing since authors went to indie.
Indie publishing allows authors to break away from conforming genre titles like fantasy, romance, history, and sci-fi. Now, authors can create that “Gothic sci-fi historical fantasy romance murder mystery” and can work on selling it on their own.
I couldn’t resist. I had to play. There is a soft macabre…Gothic world out there that strongly attracts me. But it always has been too macabre or too…”Twilight” for my taste. No. What I see is a Frankenstein styled Gothic love story. It was almost captured perfectly in the movie “Dark Shadows,” but there was still too much vampire and 1970’s in Dark Shadows for my taste.
This leads me to want to venture out on my own. I see romances that break out from your classic romance novel, which…I will be the first to tell you, I am not a fan of. In fact, the handful of romance novels I love, I love for the story and not the romance. And definitely not for the sex. My favorite romance novel was the urban fantasy Iced by Karen Marie Moning. The MC was 14 years old, which meant no sex for her. Other characters (adults) had sex, but because they were not the MC, the sex was placed far from the back burner, in the dark pantry in the cellars. I can honestly say, of all the “romance” novels, this is one I enjoyed.
But still, as awesome as Iced was, it still didn’t have that stunning Tolkien meets Poe style I’m looking for.
Here is a sample of the mood I am wanting to recreate:
The Raven and The Crow by Angela B. Chrysler
Once through winter’s bitter chill when all the world was right,
Dearly did the Raven love, while Crow did love his flight.
O’er head the winds did howl and turned Raven to Crow,
And through that winter’s cold dark night, the Raven saw the Crow.
In that breath the Raven knew all there was to know,
As winter’s wind blew black and bleak, their hearts were bound as one.
“So like me. You are I. Come and fly with me.
If ever two were meant to love, ‘twould be you and I.”
Within that breath the other saw all there was to see,
Beating strong within their eyes, two loves meant to be.
Raven whispered all these words. She could not look away,
For tethered to the others’ heart, they were bound to stay.
Within their eyes they saw the skies together they could conquer.
There each day they’d spend their days devouring the other.
Within their hearts beneath their breast they did clearly see,
All the love that they could have, their hearts, their lives, deflowered.
And in that moment between them two, the Raven and the Crow,
Exchanged unspoken words of love that bound them to forever.
“If ever I was meant to love, my heart would beat for you,”
Need not the Raven say to Crow beneath the winter’s howl.
“Know that under every word, there only is, ‘I love you.’
The in and out of every breath, to you I say, ‘I love you.’
Within the first of spring rains, and ‘neath the summer sun,
There would I forever more love you and adore.”
All these promises and more, the Raven saw from Crow.
“Within your eyes, so like mine, for you, my love, I’d soar.”
It was then that the Crow threw out his wings and flew.
Within his eyes, he did implore, “Follow me and fly.”
In likeness, Raven threw wide her breast and stretched her withered wings
But gnarled and maimed were Raven’s wings, battered by life’s storms.
Scars and blood made up her bones, too broke—too weak to fly.
From the ground, too scarred to cry, Raven watched her Crow.
The wind blew cold while Crow flew far imploring, “Raven, soar!”
But while the bitter winds ripped o’er, she could not leave the moor.
Crows forever they must fly, and Ravens they must soar
But Raven bleeding, broken, maimed, could join her love no more.
Despite their unspoken dreams that tethered him to she,
Raven watched Crow fly away. His words alone did bide.
“So like me, you are I. Come and fly with me.
If ever two were meant to love, ‘twould be you and I.”
I want that bitter with my sweet. I want the darker side of romance that most likely ends with tragic love…and I want it done as tastefully as Tolkien, Tennyson, or Poe. This is what I want to create. I hate the concept of being locked in to “Fantasy.” Indie Publishing allows me this.