Yes, I know this post is long overdue, but once you slide off, it’s really easy to keep not posting. I am posting this now and not procrastinating (even longer) because once I get this up, I will return to posting. Expect some editorials on what I’ve been doing (miniatures mainly), and the promised “Geekhood in Israel” which will be interwoven with my own personal story of ascending to Geekhood Godhood, because it’s my story.
Speaking of stories (which is one of my favourite topics), you might remember my Micro-Fiction of the “Nameless man”. That was a homage, and as such, it really was a “genre” snippet.
Writing or telling in genre can be easy or hard. When your goal is to mimic and recreate a genre, it’s sometimes hard to not overdo it, to make it clear that you are drawing and referencing ye olde favourite genre while not being too hackneyed. It also keeps you very self-conscious, because genres are often less about what you tell and more about how you tell it; both the shape and form of the story, and the construction of the sentences. You really pay attention to every word.
Of course, some people just write, and since they think in this genre, whatever comes out will be of the genre, without them giving this much thought. But then, it’s not really homage, it’s just how they write.
Anime is a medium, but it also is a genre to a degree. It has tropes to itself, and certainly to its subgenres, such as “Determinator Shounen”, “Moe”, “High school”, “Dating sim romance”, etc. And part of what I’ve spoken about before regarding comedies, and how we’re all about the “insider jokes” to show and prove (even if only to ourselves) that we are “in the know”? That’s not just tidbits, it’s also the genre-trappings, the things that happen which show us we are actually watching something “of the genre”.
Anyway, here’s a small genre-entry. You guys shouldn’t have a hard time recognizing the genre; provided you like reading ;)
The God-Machines of Atria Crumbled.
The machine-tender priests could do nought but wring their spanners of gold and silver as they watched their gods grow silent, the decline of their once great civilization into the [Jungles of Forgetfulness], where the hoarse cries of the [Apes of Abbadon] echoed; as they, in turn turned their baleful beady eyes upon the verdigris and rust that had come upon the source of their great subjugators’ power and hope.
It was not until hundreds of years later than dawn had come once more, as some strangely shaped rocks had been found lying in the undergrowth by some youths near an outlying base of the now-ancient ruins of the once great Seventh South-Eastern Commerce Center of Flow (by the Powers of the Ever-Great God-Machines whose progress marches us ever forward), or as it had been known in the current time, by those that had currently lived nearby, “Those bloody ruins“, usually accompanied by a sign to ward evil spirits, and spitting.