Switching the Form of an Artifact

I’ve been hashing through my “shitty” draft of Run, which started out as a post-apocalyptic novel. What if a community can train for war to find peace? After all, it hasn’t worked IRL pre-collapse, why should it post-collapse?

I don’t know if I’m running out of steam or if I no longer want to go in the same direction the story and characters were for the first 200 plus pages. The technology monkey-wrench for the story always seemed a little “off”—I usually research and find a tech to mess around with before I write a story and this time I seem to have gone the wrong way. So two things are working against the momentum and motives for finishing. I need and want to finish the manuscript. I care about the people.

But as I sat back spending two weeks too many figuring out the problems and solutionizing I realized, hey, this might be a much better graphic novel. Then I was going to re-write the same thing just switching the format. But today I realized, now, cross-formatting would do the story some good. Writing visually affects the way an artifact sees and feels, not only the way it “looks” as a graphic novel script. A novel has its own distinctive vision and feel. They are two different artifacts and need to be treated accordingly.

Which brings me to the present exciting thing-to-be-mulled-over-more-coffee: If I write the same tale, having fixed the tech monkey wrench to something with more umph given the post-petrocollapsed northeastern Pacific Rim world I imagined onto paper, well, digital paper in any case, shouldn’t I also allow the variation in style, story and outcomes that are bound to come along with a format change? It seems like a good idea.

Like I said, coffee and mulling. That’s where Run is headed. Maybe it’ll give the ending some distinction-by-artifact.