holy crap, that was unexpected
I think I just agreed (to myself) to write my first mystery novel.
For the record, I don't write mysteries, and I rarely read them, but damn it, this idea is a mystery and that's just the breaks.
Genesis here.
I've already totally got the protagonist, my wonderful idiot research fellow/librarian who's a P'urhépecha working at the royal library in Tenochtitlan... Or rather, analogues of those places and cultures, since I want a bit more liberty to muck about than my sense of historicity would allow, and the likelihood of the Mexica allowing a national from a rival sovereign state into their government library is rather nil.
Oh, and magic. I mean, just dealing with the frigging sorcerer-priests... caramba.
But, yiminy! You know when you get a story idea so strongly alive in your head that you can actually feel parts of your brain readjusting in order to accommodate it?
Yeah, THAT. That's THIS.
Who the fuck knew I was going to stumble across that comment and it would ignite a world inside my head?
Wow.
For the record, I don't write mysteries, and I rarely read them, but damn it, this idea is a mystery and that's just the breaks.
Genesis here.
I've already totally got the protagonist, my wonderful idiot research fellow/librarian who's a P'urhépecha working at the royal library in Tenochtitlan... Or rather, analogues of those places and cultures, since I want a bit more liberty to muck about than my sense of historicity would allow, and the likelihood of the Mexica allowing a national from a rival sovereign state into their government library is rather nil.
Oh, and magic. I mean, just dealing with the frigging sorcerer-priests... caramba.
But, yiminy! You know when you get a story idea so strongly alive in your head that you can actually feel parts of your brain readjusting in order to accommodate it?
Yeah, THAT. That's THIS.
Who the fuck knew I was going to stumble across that comment and it would ignite a world inside my head?
Wow.