In yesterday’s post, I casually referred to Beneath the Wood, Five Talents, and Drawful the Awful as a “trilogy.” I’m calling them “The Cordy trilogy” because my dog, Cordelia, does have cameos in all three, but the unifying bond is firmer than just my adorable pooch above.
While the three books all belong to different genres, and (especially in BtWs case) vary in tone, I would like to muse a bit today on how they actually do represent a trilogy as far as an artistic statement and sensibility are concerned.
I’m a fan of the Cornetto trilogy of films by the Pegg, Frost, Wright dream team- Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End. There is no narrative continuity between the three, nor even any recurring characters (actors, yes, characters, no). However, they are very much a trilogy because all three share similar tone, and very much all share a similar approach to their stories and message.
That being said, while all three of my stories are not in any way connected by the narratives, they are all very much of the same DNA in my artistic lens:
Beneath the Wood is about a young girl grappling with trauma, learning how and when to both forgive and say goodbye.
Five Talents is about young writers, a chef and an assassin all trying to find careers and work they’re passionate about in the face of people and hurdles trying to cheat or take advtange of them.
Drawful the Awful is about a Princess who feels she’s ready to rule her father’s kingdom responsibly, and undertakes an adventure to prove it.
All three of these stories are directly concerned, at their hearts, with overcoming what the world and people tell us we are, and working- not without struggle and some setbacks- to transcend and outdo those expectations.
Again, I’m very happy with these three stories, and they have definitely been produced from the crucible of my current place in life and my own aspirations. I want to be your next favorite author. I want to be a published novelist.
However, I have a day job that isn’t at all concerned with writing. The world is telling me I’m a salesman, that I don’t have the personality to self-promote incessantly to be a writer. I worked, non-stop, for the past two years producing three books whose core message is a refute of that, and in so doing made my the case for myself:
I am a writer.
I am confident in that answer. I wear it proudly. I’ll add the adjective, published, soon enough. For now, I know what I am.
As for the sabbatical I described taking after Drawful the Awful is finished? That’s looking for the next message of what I want to write about now that I’ve said my piece on the above.
As ever, we move forward.