And now, the many paths of telling a story, and how some work, and most don’t.
As I plow through Merritt Island, I’ve begun to realize that it’s not really much of a horror story. At least, not from a novelist prospective, or even the standards of conventional horror movies or games.
Merritt Island at its core is still a story about insecurity and repression, and the decay of a city, and the perception of a city and what it should be. As I’m drafting it out now, I realize the primary interactions are not really between Joshua and Isabella, but rather between Joshua and Merritt Island itself.
Lots of the story has diverted away from these sort of hellish settings and Joshua being taunted by Isabella throughout them, and now they’ve shifted into Joshua sort of battling not only the city that’s decaying around him and actively trying to kill him, but also his past perceptions of what the town meant to him and how it treated him in various stages of his life.
Stage 1 of Merritt Island is what Joshua saw of it in childhood. When something like the mall meant wonderful toys, clothing, and movies, and he spent his time with friends and at playgrounds and the small boundaries of the island were a kind of utopia.
Stage 2 of Merritt Island is Joshua returning in adulthood, and seeing many of his old favorite places closed down, bulldozed over, or changed. On top of that he’s far more bitter and has come to a grave understanding of what he considers the consumer hell of the island to really be. He sees old locations are places he doesn’t want to visit again, and he’s fallen out of contact with everyone he used to know.
Stage 3 is hell itself. Where the signs and billboards reveal a very different nature. For instance, Joshua’s dealings with the decayed and rotted bridal shop push his buttons in regards to his absolutely pathetic love life. His outward rejection of traditions and customs clashing with his inwards desire to fully embrace those things for the sake of some vain acceptance. This is reflected in other things relating to other facets of his life, as the city slowly reaches out to destroy him.
As Joshua returns to his old school, he’s faced with a lot of his social anxieties. At the mall, he’s faced with a lot of his problems regarding his recently getting fired and swimming in debt. So on and so forth, with Isabella as the antagonist pushing him to keep exploring the bowels of the city, and Mr. Smiles the being that keeps tormenting him as he reaches each location.
The central hub of the story is contained in the two main roads in metropolitan Merritt Island, Courtenay Parkway, and State Road 520. Joshua rarely diverts from these paths, and it helps a lot to keep a very narrow view of the city for me. Joshua’s memories of Merritt Island are of a lively and busy city, while his view of it in hell mode are of a vast and empty place trying to kill him.
As Merritt Island becomes more and more dystopian the conflicts of past and present make it very much its own character.
Aside from Isabella, the other primary motivator for Joshua is still Mr. Smiles. He’s moved on from being this weird tormentor, and is now this sort of forceful version of Virgil. Early on he seems very much the villain, but by the time Joshua gets to the mall in the story, it’s clear that Mr. Smiles isn’t out to kill him, but force him down a road he doesn’t want to walk down.
There are very few actual villains aside from the city, there’s mostly just stuff standing in Joshua’s way, such as the Diamond Man. It’s a path I walked down for Eternal Engine, and while Merritt Island is a far more mature story in tone, (and speech) I still find it interesting to drive a story with minimal conflict. I find it allows me a bit more freedom in conveyance through other means, as I tend to be weird regarding dialog.
I’ll have moments where I’d have no dialog for very long stretches in Eternal Engine, followed by really long exchanges in chatter… and then right back to everyone keeping their mouths shut. Clock was pretty well mixed in that regard, but going back to that sort of “less is more” idea with Merritt Island has been very fitting.
Merritt Island also goes back to an old trick of mine I haven’t used in a long time, which is a minimal cast. Eternal Engine blew up more than I’d have liked, and every section of Clock needed its own brand new set of characters, so getting back to a tiny list of characters is wonderfully refreshing, as it offers far more time to spend on the reflections of these few characters, instead of rushing to define archetypes.
I think drifting away from strict horror has also been uplifting for a very critical reason, in that it puts Merritt Island into that zone I like to remain within, in that it’s impossible to set it within a single genre, much like Eternal Engine and Clock.
Overall, I just like being weird for weird’s sake in my tales.
Your concrete heart isn’t beating
And you tried to make it come alive
No shadows, just red lights
Now I’m here to rescue you
Tags: Journal
