Dev Blog 4: Leaking Secrets -- EoE's Format Exposed
I realize I've been more than a bit coy regarding the format of Engines of Extinction. In fact, unless you listened to the recent SOFREP podcast I was featured on, you probably still don't have much of an idea what to expect.
Well, I'm here to change that now.
In short, Engines of Extinction is an episodic epistolary novel. Wait, wait… don't click away yet. That makes it sound a whole lot more complicated than it truly it. In fact, it's actually a very natural way to deliver this particular story. And if you bear with me for just a bit, I'll explain what that means and how we eventually hit upon that particular format.
As I wrote in a previous installment, the earliest ideas that eventually took shape as EoE hit me a decade or so back. I spent a considerable time evolving the concept and adding to the mythology. My notes started to pile up with no real plan for how to ultimately express them.
At some point, I decided I really did need to figure out a way in which to transform the non-stop barrage of ideas and accumulating pages of notes into something more concrete. I really believed in the base material as it effectively taps into so much of what I'm interested in, and does so in a way I think will appeal to people of varying tastes.
However, I simply wasn't interested in writing a 'standard' third-person POV novel. That may change at some point down the line, but I frequently find myself overly aware of the narrator, and, if not properly crafted, novels of the sort can feel contrived to me. That format wasn't something I felt comfortable tackling and, perhaps, a bit too far removed the sort of realistic vibe I was searching for.
Initially, I actually considered creating EoE as a sort of hybrid graphic/illustrated novel. (So a prose novel wasn't 'real' enough for me but a comic book was? Again, please bear with me…). At that point, I pictured a story told through both images and text -- told in the form of art, documents, tables, transcripts, etc. -- and stripped of a lot of standard comic book trappings such as word bubbles.
I guess what I imagined was something along the lines of an even more extreme early-era Jonathan Hickman comic, although I was completely unaware of Hickman or his work at the time.
As it took shape in my head, I even envisioned every image as being 'sourced' in reality -- depicted as screen captures from drone footage, photographs, surveillance cameras, and so on.
I optimistically intended to do everything myself, including the art. You see, at one point, way back when, I was a fine arts major and aspiring comic book artist. However, at the time I was rather ignorant of what opportunities existed for artists and the comic book industry was in full-on crash-mode. So I decided to opt a safer route (yeah, dropping out of law school to chase a career in motorcycle racing journalism was my 'safe' choice).
Anyway, just to prove I'm not making all this up, here are a couple samples of my drawings from high school… and if it looks very '90s-ish to you, well, keep in mind it was the '90s:
I'm very thankful I ultimately chose another path. To this day, I have enormous respect for artists and a rapidly growing collection of art books to prove it. However, while I personally found creating art rewarding, I also found the process mentally exhausting and flat-out painful, particularly if I wasn't appropriately inspired. The thought of having to draw every day on cue is actually pretty horrifying to me.
In 2009, after 15 years of not using a pen or pencil for anything more involved than signing my name at the bottom of a rent check, I decided to see if I still had any skills remaining. I dipped a toe back in by ripping off (I mean paying homage to) a Jim Lee Batman drawing as a Christmas present for my nephew. After that, I drew a comic-style pic of Superbike champ Josh Hayes for a Road Racer X cover story I also wrote (colors by Jason Embury):
Surprise, surprise… I found the process rewarding… and mentally exhausting.
The thought of doing everything necessary to complete EoE in the manner I was envisioning was simply overwhelming, not to mention impossible. Even though I was relatively satisfied with how those drawings turned out, I was very rusty. And even if I was fully back in the groove and put in the requisite hard work to start to develop my own style rather than simply aping artists I liked, I just didn't have the right skill set necessary to generate the sort of hyper-realistic images I had in mind.
And even if that alone wasn't posing an impassable obstacle, the format itself would have proven less-than-ideal for relaying the vast amounts of detail and nuance I hoped to communicate.
As a result, Engines of Extinction was unofficially placed on the back burner for some time… even if I continued to take notes and evolve the story, despite once again not knowing how to effectively deliver them.
At some point -- I cannot remember exactly how, when, or why -- the appropriate format finally hit me. It was still very much in the same spirit but far superior for telling this story -- not to mention considerably more manageable. It was a massive upgrade all the way around.
Years before Edward Snowden made himself a household name, I imaged a story told directly to you, the reader, in the form of a series of emails sent to you by a well-placed whistleblower.
This inside source just happens to be a former Delta recce sniper and OGA contractor named Jared Baxter, who approaches you with shocking revelations regarding a shadow war of near unimaginable scale and importance. And he comes armed with proof.
Baxter serves as the story's (first-person) narrator, and the body of each 'email' (six in all) will deliver the primary narrative. That is, if you were only to read each email body, you would get a complete story… That's the quicker-paced thriller aspect of EoE I referred to in an earlier blog.
However, to prove the veracity of his extraordinary claims, Baxter also includes a variety of attachments with each email -- which is where we can get really dense and technical with the material if we so choose. These attachments can range from stolen classified documents, newspaper articles, internal unit histories, conversation and email transcripts, images, etc.
In particular, the images could be 'photos' depicting the bleeding-edge tech in action, screen grabs of surveillance footage, and so on. (And trust me, the imagery will be a very compelling part of the overall package.)
With the format finally in place, Engines of Extinction was not just back among the living but destined for an inevitable release. However, to pull this off properly, I was going to need an artist capable of seriously delivering the goods. My amateur scribblings would not suffice -- I needed someone world class.
And so began my hunt for not a collaborator, but the collaborator. I'll talk about that next time.
Well, I'm here to change that now.
In short, Engines of Extinction is an episodic epistolary novel. Wait, wait… don't click away yet. That makes it sound a whole lot more complicated than it truly it. In fact, it's actually a very natural way to deliver this particular story. And if you bear with me for just a bit, I'll explain what that means and how we eventually hit upon that particular format.
As I wrote in a previous installment, the earliest ideas that eventually took shape as EoE hit me a decade or so back. I spent a considerable time evolving the concept and adding to the mythology. My notes started to pile up with no real plan for how to ultimately express them.
At some point, I decided I really did need to figure out a way in which to transform the non-stop barrage of ideas and accumulating pages of notes into something more concrete. I really believed in the base material as it effectively taps into so much of what I'm interested in, and does so in a way I think will appeal to people of varying tastes.
However, I simply wasn't interested in writing a 'standard' third-person POV novel. That may change at some point down the line, but I frequently find myself overly aware of the narrator, and, if not properly crafted, novels of the sort can feel contrived to me. That format wasn't something I felt comfortable tackling and, perhaps, a bit too far removed the sort of realistic vibe I was searching for.
Initially, I actually considered creating EoE as a sort of hybrid graphic/illustrated novel. (So a prose novel wasn't 'real' enough for me but a comic book was? Again, please bear with me…). At that point, I pictured a story told through both images and text -- told in the form of art, documents, tables, transcripts, etc. -- and stripped of a lot of standard comic book trappings such as word bubbles.
I guess what I imagined was something along the lines of an even more extreme early-era Jonathan Hickman comic, although I was completely unaware of Hickman or his work at the time.
As it took shape in my head, I even envisioned every image as being 'sourced' in reality -- depicted as screen captures from drone footage, photographs, surveillance cameras, and so on.
I optimistically intended to do everything myself, including the art. You see, at one point, way back when, I was a fine arts major and aspiring comic book artist. However, at the time I was rather ignorant of what opportunities existed for artists and the comic book industry was in full-on crash-mode. So I decided to opt a safer route (yeah, dropping out of law school to chase a career in motorcycle racing journalism was my 'safe' choice).
Anyway, just to prove I'm not making all this up, here are a couple samples of my drawings from high school… and if it looks very '90s-ish to you, well, keep in mind it was the '90s:
I'm very thankful I ultimately chose another path. To this day, I have enormous respect for artists and a rapidly growing collection of art books to prove it. However, while I personally found creating art rewarding, I also found the process mentally exhausting and flat-out painful, particularly if I wasn't appropriately inspired. The thought of having to draw every day on cue is actually pretty horrifying to me.
In 2009, after 15 years of not using a pen or pencil for anything more involved than signing my name at the bottom of a rent check, I decided to see if I still had any skills remaining. I dipped a toe back in by ripping off (I mean paying homage to) a Jim Lee Batman drawing as a Christmas present for my nephew. After that, I drew a comic-style pic of Superbike champ Josh Hayes for a Road Racer X cover story I also wrote (colors by Jason Embury):
Surprise, surprise… I found the process rewarding… and mentally exhausting.
The thought of doing everything necessary to complete EoE in the manner I was envisioning was simply overwhelming, not to mention impossible. Even though I was relatively satisfied with how those drawings turned out, I was very rusty. And even if I was fully back in the groove and put in the requisite hard work to start to develop my own style rather than simply aping artists I liked, I just didn't have the right skill set necessary to generate the sort of hyper-realistic images I had in mind.
And even if that alone wasn't posing an impassable obstacle, the format itself would have proven less-than-ideal for relaying the vast amounts of detail and nuance I hoped to communicate.
As a result, Engines of Extinction was unofficially placed on the back burner for some time… even if I continued to take notes and evolve the story, despite once again not knowing how to effectively deliver them.
At some point -- I cannot remember exactly how, when, or why -- the appropriate format finally hit me. It was still very much in the same spirit but far superior for telling this story -- not to mention considerably more manageable. It was a massive upgrade all the way around.
Years before Edward Snowden made himself a household name, I imaged a story told directly to you, the reader, in the form of a series of emails sent to you by a well-placed whistleblower.
This inside source just happens to be a former Delta recce sniper and OGA contractor named Jared Baxter, who approaches you with shocking revelations regarding a shadow war of near unimaginable scale and importance. And he comes armed with proof.
Baxter serves as the story's (first-person) narrator, and the body of each 'email' (six in all) will deliver the primary narrative. That is, if you were only to read each email body, you would get a complete story… That's the quicker-paced thriller aspect of EoE I referred to in an earlier blog.
However, to prove the veracity of his extraordinary claims, Baxter also includes a variety of attachments with each email -- which is where we can get really dense and technical with the material if we so choose. These attachments can range from stolen classified documents, newspaper articles, internal unit histories, conversation and email transcripts, images, etc.
In particular, the images could be 'photos' depicting the bleeding-edge tech in action, screen grabs of surveillance footage, and so on. (And trust me, the imagery will be a very compelling part of the overall package.)
With the format finally in place, Engines of Extinction was not just back among the living but destined for an inevitable release. However, to pull this off properly, I was going to need an artist capable of seriously delivering the goods. My amateur scribblings would not suffice -- I needed someone world class.
And so began my hunt for not a collaborator, but the collaborator. I'll talk about that next time.
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