Still Reading: Eternal

Nothing ever starts well. Never, ever ever. Ever. Unless, it's like, a professional book where somebody has gone over the beginning a billion million times and knows exactly where things are supposed to be, where they're supposed to be.

I think, a major problem I had with Eternal when it first came out, is that, at times, it was just so damn vauge and dreamlike, a level removed from reality. Where it was going and what it was trying to say was somewhere in this fog, and all the reader could do is wonder what the ever loving hell the setup is trying to set up.

But when the story became about actual dreams and mindscapes, that writing style stopped becoming a hindrance. It actually bolstered the mood of the world, the flow of it. You are reading a particularly coherent, yet still inherently removed from reality, dream. You wander through the images presented, unable to see the path, but press on anyway.

So, I think Eternal gets a revised score. The score is now: A Vat of Choco-Carmel (Minus The Innuendo)

Also: How do you write 30k words in five days?!