Redux Redux

I’ve been looking for old projects that I needed to finish, and The Lair of the White Worm has never been far from my mind. On reviewing my notes and the existent prose, there seems to be something worth salvaging here. This could actually be quite a fun read for an admittedly limited audience.

The ending I wrote was particularly interesting, containing a few surprises and some compelling action. So I’m at the point where my ideas for the story are much stronger in my head than the actual ideas Stoker put down. The mongooses…mongeese…mongi…remain, but I’m feeling like there’s less room for Oolanga than I felt at previous points. We’ll see if that particular magic comes back.

Also, re-reading the book to see if I’ve left anything compelling out—most of the effort has gone into filling in the blanks and re-organizing things to make sense—and realizing I didn’t spend a full page detailing the roads one would take to get from Mercia to Liverpool, like some kind of chump. Seriously, though, Liverpool-Manchester train is one of the oldest in England; it makes sense that they’d take it.