So today I got to thinking about predictability. I thought of another novel idea (taking the tally up to four, and ensuring that I’ll probably still be writing just these four in 2017) and a genre, and genre subversion.
Don’t ask. Or do, but you may have to wait until I’ve created flowcharts, note cards and perhaps a massive slideshow. This latest idea still requires mapping and planning, a way to break the cliches and tropes, it’s the least-baked of my various ideas.
Anyway. I was meditating on how some genres are really predictable and need a subversion, and then I was thinking on how I’m the right woman to take that on. There were probably other thoughts, but I lost track. That happens a lot. At some point I think I got to mental-ramblings about what tropes and formulae you come across in literature overall. These are the paths my brain takes.
I’ve been obsessing over this quote for a while now. I don’t know why, exactly – I think it’s mainly because I read it once and it stuck in my mind very fast, very solidly. If memory serves, it comes from Aeschylus’ play The Frogs.
“… and lost his bottle of oil.”