atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,

#1681: Damn it, yet another manga series idea.

What does this make, eight? Nine? I've lost count.

Somewhere I think I have a list:

American Dawn
Magical Angel Selene
Crisis Angel
Megumi's Diary

...and the new one. Yeah, eight. Jesus. (I still feel as if I'm forgetting one.) And no, I don't have a title for it yet.

Ideas are a dime a dozen. Execution of those ideas is a lot harder.

I don't think this one will be a full-blown manga series, though, which helps. Right now I am leaning towards "light novel", because I wrote out the story notes as excerpts from the main character's journal, and in fact all I really think is necessary is to illustrate certain key scenes. I can manage that, I think, and put this one to bed pretty quickly. ("Finish"? Ha. I'm too finicky. But get it to a state where I can call the idea "mature", and stop making changes, okay.)

The main character of this one is--again--a Japanese high school girl. (Only two of my series have a male main character, and one of them turns into a magical girl.) Why? I like drawing women and I don't like drawing men.

This story is strictly drama. Drama is possible with manga but I don't really care for doing it, as there is generally a lot of talking and not much action. Prose is a lot more economical for dialogue than is a pure comic format.

Argh. I need to draw more, damn it.

* * *

For the past several days I've been in the grips of a sinister illness: mild fever, gastrointestinal symptoms, fatigue. Mom had this last week, so it must be something which is going around, but whatever the hell it was, it laid me out.

The sucky part is, I had to back out of going to a family cookout with my fiancee. It would have been my first opportunity (like, ever) to meet most of her family--aunts, uncles, cousins, etc--and I could have had a lot of yummy food. She was there until after nine; she'd taken her mother with her and her mother never goes to bed later than 8:30, so they must've been having a lot of fun.

Me, I begged off, then lay in bed and slept all freaking day. After sleeping all freaking day on Friday and Thursday. I'm talking, "No World of Warcraft for you, son; you're too damned tired!"

...I did manage to play a bit of WoW here and there, but after getting up last night around 10:30--feeling enormously better but still a bit light-headed--I played WoW seriously for the first time in about a week and was on-line for four hours.

Today I feel even better, less light-headed and moderately functional. So that's good.

* * *

Meanwhile, the new parts for the Escort engine sit on the dining room table, still in their boxes. I still have to get after that little project: check the piston ring gaps, file ones that don't meet spec; start cleaning all the parts and lay them out on the card table under a cover of some kind once they're clean (got to take the card table out there); and then finally start putting parts onto or into other parts.

Heck, I've got to find some way to compress the piston rings so I can put the pistons back in. I used to have a piston ring compressor, one which might be big enough to work on Escort pistons--it's for small engines, like the Briggs and Stratton go-kart engine it was originally bought for--but I have no idea where it is. I ought to try to find it. I have no idea if I even still have the thing; and if I do, it's going to need a thorough cleaning. It might be easier to buy a new one made for car engines....

Anyway, Briggs engines average a bore size of 2-3 inches, and the Escort's 1.9 has a bore of 82 mm (about 3.25") so it should work. Assuming, of course, that I can find it. Which assumes that I still have it. I don't think I've even seen the damn thing since...1989? Twenty years? Yikes.

Three weeks ago it was supposed to be just a matter of swapping in a new clutch assembly, and then doing the engine swap. Now it's practically turned into a snipe hunt. Heh.

* * *

You got the gall!
You got the gall!
You got the gall!
To be...

...just in case I ever need a chorus for a bad death metal song. (Just imagine some guy screaming this over the sound of a 55-gallon drum being hit with a pipe wrench. It's pure gold.)

UPDATE: ...and then right after I posted this, I thought of the next several lines:

'Cause you're...

WTF, it's not like it's high art or anything. It's death metal. C'mon.

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