Hold onto your hats, blogmongers. Has ol’ Balla got a controversial piece in store for you today.
Well, not really.
That was a statement, not a question.
Well you should have phrased it better then.
I phrased it fine. It ends with a full stop, it’s a bloody sentence.
Then you shouldn’t have started it with ‘has’.
Look, which one of us wrote 10k in the 28 days of February again? (Oh look, a wiggly thing with a dot underneath, wonder what that means.)
Both of us, because we’re the same person, you half-crazed devilishly handsome git. Now are we going to do this blog entry or not?
Yeah alright. GOD IS BORING.
(I’m terrible at clickbait, aren’t I? You’re meant to put the baity bit up top, not underneath a conversation with yourself. But then, being terrible at clickbait is one of those things I don’t mind too much, like how I’m bad at dislocating my shoulder, or how I’m awful at drumming up support for Trump on this blog.)
To write about anyway. They’re dull dull dull book matter. You know what’s much more fun? GodS.
The old panthea. Egyptian, Greek, Norse. Ancient tribal gods. The creation myths of the aborigines, or of the Inuit. Much more fun to write about.
Want to know why? Or got this far and fell victim to sunk cost fallacy? Two main reasons.
One: they can be not good.
A captivating narrative is about making bad things happen to people you care about. God’s omnipotent, so their equivalent of ‘bad things’ is someone stops believing in them. That just doesn’t resonate enough with yer average, none-too-religious reader. Oh boo hoo God, you lost a believer and they’re going to hell, cry us a biblical flood.
On the other hand, make your gods bad, or even morally grey, and now you’ve got an apparently insurmountable obstacle for your ‘goodies’ to defeat. And because they’re not omnipotent, defeat becomes a slim possibility. (Other options, e.g. cajoling or offering sacrifices, also available.)
Okay, so Dan Brown-alikes have probably penned the monotheistic god as not exactly perfect. That’s not a hard-and-fast rule, so long as you’re willing to court controversy. But then we get onto reason two: variety.
In a monotheistic religion, you have one god. That’s pretty much the definition. Scratch that, that’s exactly the definition.
Introduce polytheism, and your multiple gods can have multiple personalities (although I would read the heck out of the book that did that with ol’ Yahweh. Would explain the testament-switch-chilling-out-thing).
They can talk. They can compete. They can fight. They can fuck. And being divine, their talking/competing/fighting/fucking is probably a fair bit more fun to write than humans doing the same.
Monotheism can introduce the Devil, I suppose, and the heavenly host. But it’s not the same as having Zeus and Thor arguing about who gets to chuck the lightning bolts. (I haven’t even mentioned intra-religion crossovers yet, have I? They’re fun. Neil Gaiman knows they’re fun.)
All of which is a massively circumlocutious way of saying, I’ve reached 70k words and the two-thirds or so mark in The Kingdom of Light is Drunk and Rotten, and the gods who have observed the entire story are just about poking their heads above the parapet. In the case of the one god who turns up naked in the middle of the city [REDACTED].
That makes it sound like faeces are descending. Are they descending, you may ask? They are indeed descending. Faeces are descending, right into a rotary cooling device.
To get serious for a moment, and cause mood whiplash from my gentrification of that particular messy metaphor, they’re descending in some places in real life too. Suffice to say that there will be some announcements to follow in the coming months, about NaNoWriMo and my place in it. Announcements that I’m not, in all honesty, 100% happy or sure about. But announcements that need to be announced. I don’t think there’s any way around that.
And to stop getting serious, I am at least in a decent place writing-wise. I’m where I hoped to be. Granted, my goal of 30k over April’s coming Camp NaNo is looking a little optimistic. Especially with the Nintendo Switch coming out on Friday. That Zelda game looks as divine as anything I’ve written about in this blog post. To say I’m massively incredibly mind-blowingly hopping-up-and-downingly hyped would be a substantial understatement.
But the book’s looking good. Not entirely, natch. I still have last month’s festival dilemma, that I shoe-horned into earlier parts of the novel without much finesse. And actually, for the focal point of the story, the gods haven’t featured as much in earlier parts as they should have done. But it’s looking… salvageable, shall we say. Editable.
Before I sign off, I should probably say that I am a Catholic myself. Not the best, most faithful Catholic, granted; but I’ve been baptised, confirmed, and first-holy-communion-ed. I can eat the bread and recite the ecclesiastical stuff with the best of ’em (not in Latin mind).
I hope I haven’t offended anyone, with this somewhat flippant literary look at religion. I think I’ve got as much right to poke fun at the big man/woman/entity up there as anybody. So I hope my clever, beautiful, and interesting readers will take it in the peaceful spirit in which it was intended, and leave being cross to Jesus.