August 16th, 2006

baby

(no subject)

I’m overwhelmed by the help proffered on the Books of Mordegon, though it seemed that some suggestions were a bit tongue in cheek.  But polling everybody, I’m getting this – I start with Pirates of Mordegon, the story of Silverhoof, legendary lesbian unicorn pirate cheif(ess) and her crew of willowy girls, sailing their huge pirate ship (which is actually not a ship but a huge semi-comatose dragon, which awakes in a subsequent book), looting and pillaging in a South of the Border sea.  Brief zoophiliac bit involving Silverhoof, a captured mare, and that horn.  In the course of looting and pillaging a ship, the crew comes upon an orphan child – or finds one floating in a cask or casque – whose name, according to a mysterious bracelet/ring/necklace/birthmark is Bel Inconnu.  He is raised by the crew of the Golden Coney (the dragon/ship) because the girls fall under his mysterious aura.  But he grows up innocent and knowing nothing of Man.  A disaster causes hm to be flung ashore in a tropical land ruled by a Dark Lord who lives in a lair hewn from the living rock, which is in the midst of a witch/werewolf civil war, but an aged/crippled/oneeyed/hunchbacked witch prohesies he will be the One who brings peace after many volumes of bloodshed.  But he must fight his way across the mountaisn and jungles, seeking for the potent Whatever, which must not be allowed to fall into the multiple hands of the monstrous Whoever. Wins allies one by one, a monstrous furball one included, and others with talents unsuspected, and a witty skinny Will Scarlett type who makes disparaging remarks about Bel’s lace-up boots. (This could also be a cat.)  In a castle he witnesses from behind an arras the willowy Princesses complaining of having nothing to do and etc.  (Or we save this incident for Princess of Mordegorn, in which Bel is mistaken for a princess, as he has been well schooled by the pirate crew.)   So I’m on my way!  
baby

Word-Floods of Mordegon



Yipe!  I'll have to spend weeks incorporating all these suggestions.  I'm apalled though that some of you would suggest I embark on some sort of -- of -- metafiction -- involving a writer reimagining old books -- and mirror -within-a mirror  tales (did I actually see that phrase?) -- and in effect tempting me to all the sins of my fruitless past.  No!  I remember a fantasy novel I started to read, by a writer far richer than me, which began on a beautiful morning in May, and in the woods a willowy woman awakes, and goes out the door of her dwelling (I think it was a dwelling) and to her gate, where ter was a box affixed to a tree, from which she drew out some messages intended for her.  Then she went back inside and pored over (or maybe just read) them while brewing herself a hot infusion of some kind.  Now that's the stuff! What did those messages say?  Where would she be directed?  Maybe she bathes in the babbling brook, refreshes her lips with mint, and catches the morning oxcart into town.  No metafiction, you notice.

Though the twins idea is a great one.  I will have toscript their press conferences, of course (appearing as their twinkling and aged but somehow merry and apple-cheeked old (fairy?) godmother to field questions.)