The Shackles of Art

It's Saturday. And a rare type of Saturday at that. Nancy is out examining local products at the Thai craft fair downtown, Alex is on a play date with his friend Isabelle. The house is empty and the silence is pregnant with promise. I can actually do anything I want. For a precious few hours I don't have to worry about work or life planning or any other chore that my weekdays now demand from me (although milk is running low). So I decide to head out to my local coffee shop, sink down into one of their intentionally comfy chairs and sip on a green tea frappe, while catching up on reading. Coming back from the States, Nancy and I plundered Borders and Barnes & Noble, hauling back more novels than we still had unread waiting for us in our bookshelves. So now some serious reading must be done.

As I'm thumbing page after page of an installment of Chris Riddell and Paul Stewarts The Edge Chronicles, I find myself fascinated at two facets of the book, I have not stood still at before. Maybe I've read too many other books in the meantime, which left me with the hopeful thoughts that 'if that could get published, wait until they get a load of Simon & Sally'. Or maybe I've only now noticed the mechanics behind a great series, simply because I've immersed myself in the process with such vigor and intensity over the last few months. The Edge Chronicles, if you don't know it (which is a shame - go pick up a copy!), is a fantasy series set in three different era's chronicling the adventures of young heroes from the same bloodline, which face adversity and great challenges over the course of their storyline. So far, nothing new under the sun in itself. But the world in which it all takes place is told with such vivid details and wild imagination that one forever will be jaded afterwards when picking up another fantasy novel with elves, dwarves and goblins.

To support the original vision of a world where no one seems remotely human and flying ships powered by floating rocks drift over majestic landscapes, Paul uses prose that captures the essence of the mind's eye, generously describing this colorful cornucopia of fantastic beings and places, while lavishly adding adjectives that are rich and powerful. Chris goes one step further and actually draws the darn things. Pictures of horrofic creatures or impossible settings come to live, often and in full detail under his expert care. Together they add just enough to allow the reader to breathe the world of The Edge without suffocating in alien imagery and add their unique creation to bookshelves everywhere that hold equally rich visions like Star Wars, The Dark Crystal, Indiana Jones and other one-of-a-kind creations.

As I went through the book like a hot knife through butter, two thoughts kept me from jumping up and shouting 'Eureka!'. First concerning the writing itself. My first draft is already way to big and will need more pruning than embellishing in the redrafting. Besides, doesn't every advice concerning writing at least include the all-important 'WRITE SIMPLE AND TO THE POINT' and 'WHEN REDRAFTING CUT AWAY THE SUPERFLUOUS'? How in Tolkien's name am I ever going to practice my own crafting of adjectives and rich prose thereby putting my personal stamp on an otherwise 'point-A-to-B' storytelling any third-grader can write? Second, I would like to do the illustrations myself, but everything I read about publishing states that publishers always select their own artists for books, unless of course if the book is an illustrated book in the first place. I wouldn't mind a beautiful cover by diTerlizzi, Brom or Chris Bachalo, but I really would like to express my creation more fully by doing the chapter-art.

Then it strikes me...those darn Muses are at it again. Making me think about things other than just relaxing and reading my fine book on a Saturday afternoon. I wonder if Leonardo daVinci was ever plagued by incessant work-related issues while trying to drink his port on a lazy weekend? Not that I'd ever compare myself to Leonardo that is....