Author: Michael J. Martinez

Forgive the headline. I don’t really think that. In fact, when it comes to your reading habits, I can only say that you should buy my books when the time comes, because you’ll like them. Yes, you. And your friends.

Anyway, literary tastes — or lack thereof — was the subject of a recent pair of articles that  were brought to my attention by my wife, herself a professional writer and avid blogger. Is so-called “literary fiction” better than “genre fiction?” The latter is, of course, everything from thrillers to horror to fantasy to romance — everything not, apparently, “literary.”

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When I first came up with the notion behind Spacebuckler, it was very much setting first: Sailing ships can fly! In space! The rest flowed from that pretty easily. As I fleshed out the rather complex setting behind such a simple notion, plot hooks and characters presented themselves to me. Not without effort, but they were there for the mining.

My current project — unnamed and undisclosed for the moment — is far more character driven. As such, I’m having a tougher time coming up with the plot elements. I know where I want the character to end up; heck, with this particular character, EVERYONE knows where he ends up. The joy in it is seeing how he gets there. And that means…a starting point.

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I’m pleased enough with a new bit of writing that I had to share the why and wherefore on the blog. And as you gathered from the headline, it’s about taking a different tack in the narrative.

I’m working on a new project unrelated to my completed book, one that I’ve taken to calling “Project S” on Twitter. Now, don’t get me wrong: Spacebuckler is totally my literary baby, and the sequel is well fleshed-out. But until such time as it’s acquired, well….I gotta do something, right? Hence, Project S, which has nothing to do with space and the Napoleonic Era whatsoever.

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I’ve been corresponding with an old friend recently, now living in Japan, and we’ve been sharing our respective books with each other. He is an extraordinarily talented writer with a penchant for the macabre and, dare I say it, nihilism. He brilliantly deconstructs our humanity, creating a strong sense of unease…which then grows into horror…then sublimes into a very primal fear. In the end, his book makes the case for the meaninglessness of all the trappings of civilized life.

Really, it’s a helluva read. But personally, as a writer, I can’t go there.

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