by Shelt Garner
I have to hurry up. I have to set deadlines. Absolutely no one cares about this first novel. I’ve alienated pretty much anyone who has shown any interest in it by talking about it all the time.
I have gotten a lot better about that, but the damage is done. And, honestly, I’m just not someone who has a lot — if any — friends. All my friends are the ones I make up at the moment.
Though, I need to make some of my “friends” bit more nasty at the moment. While this novel’s story is…interesting….it’s just not really as action pack and dark and scary as one might imagine a thriller to be. It’s a very, very easy read, very accusable but whenever I compare it other books in its genre…oh boy.
There is one specific book I’m thinking about which pretty much wants to do what this novel aims to be — something that if you like Stieg Larsson you will enjoy. I want this novel series to be an old brown shoe for readers of Larsson. The high concept is literally, “Stieg Larsson meets Mare of Easttown.”
At least, for the first few novels.
Then the series will become a more obvious and direct homage. I want to create a heroine of the ages. And, what’s more, if I don’t manage to drop dead of a heart attack, I’d like to think that readers will really enjoy being able to see my POC American Lisbeth Salander grow up, look exactly like Zendaya and become a crime fighter.
There is, of course, a dabble of female James Bond in my vision as well.
I like the idea of taking all the dumb tropes of Trumplandia and twisting them, turning them upside down so I can give MAGA a fuck you while using their own deranged conspiracy theories. That’s a lingering aim in this series, at least.
Anyway. Tonight I got a huge amount of work done. I keep moving things around in a very ad hoc, slipshod kind of way. But since I have no idea what I’m doing, it’s all I got.