Time to wrap up Fairy Punk.

I purposely tried not to think about the ending of "Fairy Punk," trusting in my subconscious. I mean, I had a very vague idea, but I refused to look at it closer. I wanted to spin out the story for as long as if felt appropriate.

But a couple of days ago, I again seemed to be blocked for inspiration, which has been a problem now for a couple of weeks. I've managed to work my way through the blocks, but it continued to be a problem.

So at the beginning of my walk, it struck me that it was time to end this book. I'm at 75K words now, I figure it will be at least another 15K words to finish, if not more.

The minute I had that thought, lots of little details and additions to the manuscript came to me. I've spent the last couple of days filling in scenes that will help bring the book around to completion. Very gratifying. I'm always amazed that little random details I come up become important later on.

I still have a couple of more road trip chapters in mind, one more or less fleshed out, the other more vague.

But I've also pretty much worked out the rest of the book. Once I gave myself permission, it all just kind of came together. I think it will work.

This book by far has the most characters and settings and the most involved backstory of anything I've written since Faerylander. (A book that tied me in knots.) In fact, it's a bit of model for what I need to do to finish my Lander series. Mostly in the notion that I should allow myself the freedom to be a little silly and just do it.

I just spun out ideas like crazy for this book, more or less at random. I don't know if it works, but I like it, so operating on the assumption that if I like it others will like it, I'm going to complete it and put it out.

Then...I may turn to Faerylander again. If not right away, I've definitely got more of a handle on what I need to do.

I feel like I'm progressing.

Or maybe I'm just giving myself more and more permission to write the way I want to write.

Classics vs hot new thing.

For the first half of Pegasus Books' existence, I was completely dependent on the "hot new thing." Though, I never quite knew what the hot new thing was going to be until it revealed itself -- or after it became hot and I couldn't get it anymore.

So I played the game of trying to guess what the hot new thing would be, but it proved to be nearly impossible. It was hot because it was unexpected, most often.

The first comic I ever didn't order from the catalogue one some stupid title called "The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

During the same years I was riding the tiger of fads. Sports cards, non-sports cards, Magic the Gathering, black and white comics (see above TMNT's), comics (variants and flashy covers and Death's of...), beanie babies, pogs, Pokemon, and so on.

I count a good 7 of 8 fads in the first 15 years.

And then...none. I mean, there was still hot versus cold product, but the wildly exploding product lines--the kind you spend all your profits on just to keep up with--those slowly faded away.

I still find that somewhat amazing. The Past is not Prologue when it comes to retail.

Anyway, during those early years, the store's dynamic was to get new stuff in every week and hope it sold, then let it sell out and move on the the next and the next. Back issue comics and some sports card star cards helped out in the first few years, but both began to fade--first into only the "hottest" comics and stars, and then even those stopped selling, more or less. It was a constant, stressful tightrope.

Luckily, about the time all this guesswork simply became unworkable, graphic novels were introduced, and then games and toys and books became available to me. (I simply couldn't get any of those for years--not enough volume to establish accounts with book and toy and game distributors, nor would they answer my calls.) The fads funded my move into diversification, and faded just about the time I was done.

I didn't really make the strong move into boardgames and new books until just before the Great Recession, but it started paying off immediately, so I continued doing it even when business is slow. Looking back on it, it's a good thing I took the gamble, because without the new product lines we'd be hurting. (I held off on new books for years because of the Book Barn, because I didn't to hurt them but when it went out, I dived in.)

So yesterday, I was looking at the books and graphic novels and games I'd sold over the last month, and the same titles popped up that have popped up almost every month and I realized that we were finally off the roller coaster of the "hot new thing."

We have a world of "classics" we can order, especially graphic novels and games and books. As long as we keep a good selection of those in stock, we are almost guaranteed sales.

So the store is now about 1/3rd new stuff (weekly comics and graphic novels and games), 1/3 classics and 1/3 discounted and or quirky stuff.

It seems to be a viable mix, arrived at organically. Much of it wasn't possible until it was possible--that is, I tried during those first 15 years to diversify, but found it difficult. No viable book distributors or game distributors, graphic novels didn't really exist, toys were mass market almost exclusively and weren't offered to the likes of us. 

There was a moment, about 1996, when what I was selling wasn't selling enough--and I couldn't get anything else. That was probably the most alarming period in our store.

Now...I have so much good stuff to pick from, I can't really get it all. As long as the classics exist at higher levels than the store actually needs to thrive, we're in good shape.

It feels nice, especially since the particular mix of stuff I have is unlikely to be duplicated by anyone else. I get competition in one area of the store or another, but it seems to be okay. We still get enough business from regulars and tourists to do all right.

If I get a Princess Bride book in, it will sell.

If I get Settlers of Catan game in, it will sell.

If I get the Watchmen graphic novel in, it will sell.

My job is to just keep ordering them.

Not checking reviews or sales.

I've now gone a full month without checking reviews or sales.

I had no idea that I was so preoccupied with them, that just checking was taking up so much psychic space.  I feel much freer. I get the urge once in a while, but then quickly forget it.

When the books were newer, each within the first six months or so of release, it was motivating to check, because they actually did better than I expected. But books tend to fall off the table around the 4th or 5th month and it was starting to become demotivating.

I don't think I managed the release of  "The Manic Pixie Dream Girl Murders" very well. I may have chosen the wrong title and cover, hard to say. I couldn't figure out how to have it listed under more than one category (I should have been able to get two at a minimum) and I just don't think I have a handle on how to optimize the Amazon search engine.

Or maybe, self-publishing just isn't going to result in sales for me. I'm unwilling to do much in the way of self-promotion.

I'm not worrying about it, but the next book I put up, I will definitely try to do better.

Anyway, not checking has refocused my attention on where it should be--the actual writing.

The one thing I didn't foresee was that the more time I let pass without checking, the more the results would accumulate, so I suspect if I check now, it will have that much more impact.

So the only real option, in a way, is to never check at all.

I wonder if I have the willpower for that.

Tesla and nerd culture.

So I wrote a chapter about Tesla in Fairy Punk.

I make the point that everyone is still saying that Tesla was a forgotten genius when he's probably better known today than ever. I mean, he's on that really neat cusp of where people know who he is and feel like they are in the "know" of who he is.

Years ago, I'd wear my Green Lantern symbol t-shirt and people would congratulate themselves as knowing what it was. Or the best current example of an "in-the-know" nerd thing is Cthulhu. People in nerd culture are totally aware but the rest of world still seems clueless.

That's the sweet spot. Popularity without being popular enough for Walmart to pay attention. For instance, for several years that was the boardgame Settlers of Catan. It's being sold at Target nowadays and B & N, so it has sort of tipped over a little.

I guess another word for this is "Cult." People in the know are happy to be in the know until the Cult thing is appropriated by the public.

I'm going to say something shocking: Star Wars was a flop. A big fat flop. For my store. Sitting on piles of toys that no one is interested, my autopsy was this: Star Wars is no longer a thing you go to Pegasus Books for, anymore than you'd go to a specialty bread store for white bread.

It's so ubiquitous that it no longer has any kind of Cult flavor. (It's only surprising that it kept it's Cult flavor for so long...)

I'm probably past the age where I'm really picking up the Cult nature of things. I've forgone certain areas where I really should have stayed current with -- video games, Magic the Gathering, and so on.

Then again, I'm so eccentric in my interests--and my interests are my interests--that much of what I'm interested in becomes Cult without any push from me.

It's very strange to feel so mainstream knowing the same things I knew when I was so far out on the fringe.

I haven't moved so much as Mass Culture has moved toward me.

Can a thing be "Cult" when it is also "Mass Culture?"

Placeholder chapter.

I'm still struggling with "Fairy Punk."

I'm 70K words into it, so it's not like I'm going to quit now. Yesterday I wrote what I'm going to call a "placeholder" chapter. I try not to do that too much. It's an easy crutch, and just means I have to go back and really work harder on it.

I read it to Linda, and she seemed to think it was all right. She's having trouble with the multitude of characters, which is a problem that can't be resolved easily. In fact, it's an intrinsic part of the book. If it isn't working, it's because I'm not writing it well.

Anyway, yesterday's chapter was more or less 'The White Council' chapter, where the good guys get together and discuss plans. (I even make a joke about Tolkien, which I'll probably take out.) I love the setting, which is in an extant Cave of the Winds at Niagara Falls. (The real cave collapsed in 1954.)

In fact, I've loved all the setting to these chapters. Really, that's my starting point. I try to pick an interesting location with an interesting history and then have the scenes play out there. So I'm very satisfied with that part.

But what comes obvious when you have a bunch of characters talking about their motivations is if you haven't really nailed down the motivations. For instance, Iggy's journey should be more or less a secret (like the Fellowship). Otherwise, I have the lame motivation of the Big Bad saying, "I'll just watch them and see what happens.") That's probably the best (worst?) example, but there are a bunch of others.

It doesn't help that they have this big meeting but nothing is really resolved. No real decisions made.

Oh, well. Like I said, a placeholder chapter so I can move on. I needed to check in with that group of characters.  I've got to find a way to firm up the motivations, make them believable.

I'm sure I can do it, if I think about it long enough.

A flexible middle.

It's strange how different the experience of writing is for each book. You'd think after all the books I've written that it would happen a certain way. That is somewhat true, at least for my work process, but the books themselves seem to roll out differently every time.

"Fairy Punk" is another new experience. By now--65K words in--I usually have an endpoint in mind; how and when the book climaxes. Hell, half the time the book is finished by the time I've reached this word count.

With this book, I don't really have a clear idea where it is going to end.

The reason, I think, is because it is a road trip, a quest. As a result, the story is somewhat episodic. Something happens in one place, and then something else happens in another place. From Oregon to New York I can put as many adventures for my intrepid Iggy and friends as I want to. I mean, there needs to be a limit, but it is definitely flexible.

I'm planning on about 6 to 8 of these adventure chapters, but it could be more depending on how it goes.

What I've done is mapped out each day's travels and then looked for weird places and things along the way that serve the story, and so far, that has been amazingly easy. In fact, I have so many weird options I have to make a choice. America is a big and fascinatingly weird place.

So this flexible middle, where I approach each day and just write an adventure chapter, and then the next, is a new thing.

Funny thing is, I've also constructed a flexible ending. They get to Joseph Tindermaker's workshop, and there are levels and levels going down, and each level can also be an adventure, and how many levels I choose to use will depend on instinct and imagination.

It's fun to do it this way, but a little scary. It's writing without a net. I have a certain amount of faith in my creative energy now that I think I can pull it off.

I just have to take it one day at a time.

Connector thread.

I have two storylines going in Fairy Punk. There is the main storyline, which is basically a quest story where the "fellowship" is making their way east, and then there is the storyline on the east coast, foes and friends, waiting for them to arrive.

I reached a point in the story where I need to sew the two threads together. I need a connector thread.

The east coast storyline isn't as dynamic, so it needs to be pulled deeper into the story while the quest is still going on.

I'm enjoying the quest part. It has a kind of American Gods vibe in the sense that I'm looking for unusual locations and characters for the fellowship to meet along the way. The USA is full of interesting places, so that isn't all that hard. More a matter of choosing which weird to use.

So I've given my subconscious instructions, and I'll mull it over most of the day probably, and if I'm lucky, by the time I go for my walk, something will be rising to the surface.