Red's CD Project Story 2:Afterword

Heir of Doom: A brief discussion

My initial intention with doing the afterword was to mimic very much what I did with the afterword that I wrote after the first CD Project. I thought I’ll sit down and open a nice long conversation on everything going on in this story. I’d like to talk about my thought process and the story growth. Discuss all the characters and the point they serve to the story.

I’d like to do all of that and more.

But I can’t for two reasons.

One. This is not really finished. Not only is it obvious that this is simply the first part in a much longer tale, but there’s a lot of rewriting, editing and restructuring to be done. Expounding on all these things would perhaps mislead, misdirect or ruin things to come.

Second. Most of that stuff above I don’t really know yet and the stuff that I do, I can’t say that I really understand. So anything I’d say would be a lot of B.S.

So I guess that’s it. Thanks for reading.

I’m kidding.

There is something more I can say.

This was hard. Very hard. Almost to the point that on several occasions I just wanted to run up the white flag.

What was hard?

The length (no sicko thoughts here please): I’ve never put in so much work into something of this length. It was hard keeping track of every detail and character. Hell, my main antagonist disappears from the story for pretty much the last ¾ of the work. I mean what’s he doing all that time? I wish I could answer that. Plus, I've submitted opening pages twice to that damn Page to Fame thing and was shot down.

The process: While I think using the lyrics and the CDs worked really well for the first CD project, it was entirely different this go-around. The content made it somewhat harder to fit lyrics while at other times I had more lyrics than I knew what I could do with. Moreover, I had a story that from the get-go was disjointed. I mean I had a ton of Oan and Nestor than midway through I introduce a whole gaggle of characters and the second half becomes all about them.

The characters: Oan is a tough guy to deal with. Abrasive. The twins have to be similar, but can’t be the same. The witch (I mean damn, she throws a monkey wrench on making this a nice clean, contained story), along with everyone else.

The list of difficulties goes on and on, but there was one thing that made this harder than anything else I’ve done.

To explain this, let me tell a story. I remember coming to the line of scrimmage in a high school football game my senior year. This is unique, in itself, because I remember very few plays from prospective of being on the field. Everything I have now is remembered from highlight tapes.

But I remember this play, not only because of what happened, but what happened right before.

As the center, I broke the huddle and came to the line first. As I was bending down to grab the ball, I saw the defense shift. It was a short yardage play on third down about 30 yards from the end zone. The defense moved 10 guys into the box. We made the line calls and as I grabbed the ball. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. This was going to be a touchdown. I could see it clearly how exactly the play was going to work before it happened. Then it did.

My problem with this project is that I could not see this story clearly, but I could feel it was there. Like when you wake from a dream, then feel slowly recede from your memory. I knew it was in me, but it was lost.

But I knew it was there and I knew that the damn thing was going to hit me right between the eyes in the very last section. I didn’t know how.

But I knew it was going to happen then.

So that made this whole process terribly frustrating because I wanted, probably more than my faithful reader, to skip to the damn ending so I could figure out what the hell I was dealing with.

So I toiled. The writing sometimes slipped. The ideas slowed. I got addicted to a trivia website called sporcle (Snake, if you haven’t been there, go but beware it’s addicting).

Then I came to that last song. I sat down and I typed the following lines.

The dark is like death, but deeper and longer and colder. Like standing for the first time at a high altitude, the air is drawn away from the lungs, siphoned from the body while the lips and tongue pant to catch it. The dark is like death, but not final.

No, not final, my friends walking this long journey beside me. Not final.

There is light, and like all light, it appears with no discernible start...

As the lines ran through the first part of that last section, I realized I had it. The key. I had only been seeing this place like a dream that shifts and bends too much to understand. In order for me to piece all this together I had to… Well I had too… awake.

It had been before my eyes all along.

“Life is a dream then you awake.”

So while this may not make a lot of sense right now, I will leave you with the following.

I wrote this the other day realizing this is how the long journey has to begin.

The Dreamer

I hear you out there, my friends. I hear the soft shuffle of sheets as you roll over and the faint scratching of air blowing between tiny hairs inside your nose. I also hear the panic in the buried thoughts of your subconscious and the unreasonable quickening of your heart. You’re asking yourself, “Is this real?” I ask, “What is real?” For my friends, we all drift through fantasies and realities without any verifiable proof of truth.

But that, my friends, is not the point.

As I was saying, I hear you very well. I know you’re there, even though I cannot see you for I am in the in-between where it is very dark. Very dark, indeed. The dark is like death, but deeper and longer and colder. Like standing for the first time at a high altitude where the air is siphoned from your body while your lips and mouth pant to trap it. The dark is like death, but not final.

No, not final.

There is light, and like all light, it appears with no discernible start. We can chase this light, you and I, if you so like. I must warn that such tricks, such excursions can cause irreparable harm. Take this chance, my friends, to turn back and wander the dark till morning. Then awake.

“Life is a dream, then you awake.”

Some of you have gone, but the multitude remains. Very well. You have been warned. Now, where was I?

While the two, light and dark, spend eternity denying each other’s existence, there cannot be one without the other. For they, like all of you of many where’s and when’s, are weaved, forever tangled together.

But that, my friends, is not the point. Not the point at all.

See the light, brilliant and tragic, cascading, pouring, streaking, drowning out the dark. Then swirling, swirling, swirling, swirling, swirling…

Now form.

“Paw and claw and hand.”

See it through my milky, white pupils that view nothing and everything. The paw digs and tears. The claw burns and consumes. The hand. Well, the hand provides and denies.

Now form.

See it now, my friends, for soon rest will come for the weary. Soon dark once more. But, for now, see it.

A boy, very near a man, stripped to the waist, his golden skin draped in a blanket of light and shadow from a late-summer sun fighting through the branches of a tall, old oak. The great river, very near, covers his movements. He stands stiff on one foot, slowly raising a spear in his right hand. This boy, fated to carry three swords into the end of all things, prepares to strike.

See it now.

The great river – one not meant to be crossed, not meant to be entered – and a bloated, blue carcass floating face up with one remaining eye staring at the sky. Can you hear him, my friends, muster just enough of a shout to perk up vigilant ears?

See it now.

See them all. The entire cast of hope and doom spilled forth before you. The fated boy. The one-eye man. The witch. The twin kings. The ailing queen and her daughter. The obedient servant. The fat mayor. The ambitious jezebel. The grotesque children and the demon.

“You’ve done this.”

“You’ve done this?”

“You’ve done this.”

“YOU’VE DONE THIS!”

Hear the voices, my friends. A million voices, from a million dreams, from a million worlds, all waiting for you and I in the dark. I did warn you of the consequences.

“Come now, heir of doom. Come and let’s put an end to this. Come, let’s begin anew.”

Come now, my friends. See the boy save this reckless man. See it all. See it now.