Well, yes and no.
Hello everybody, Dave Campbell here, the guy who has been chronicling The Velvet Marauder's adventures for the past year or so. Forgive me for breaking the "fourth wall" and all that, but this seems the appropriate time to break character and speak directly to the big handful of people who regularly read my little narrative blog.
Sadly, I'm putting The Velvet Marauder on hiatus. I know: bummer.
Lately I haven't been able to devote the time and energy into The Velvet Marauder that he/it deserves. There are a number of different forces competing for my attention these days, and it seems that VM always comes up short. I've got a job, a family, baby #2 on the way (Jan 1st!), another blog, and a number of writing projects in various stages of development. It sucks, but I just can't put the time into writing VM like I used to, and I'd rather not do it half-assed. So for now, I have to put the adventures of Connor Mackenzie aside.
Will The Velvet Marauder return? I think so, although perhaps not in blog form, if that makes sense. There are still a number of plot threads that I want to explore. Interbionics, The Malefactors, Margo... there's still a lot of story left and I hope to get to the point where I can continue where I left off.
I want to thank everybody for reading and for commenting - I really appreciate everyone's support and interest. I started The Velvet Marauder back in the summer of 2004 as a writing exercise, a way to get the creative juices flowing and to motivate me to write on a daily basis. I never wrote notes or plotted the story out ahead of time, which was a departure and challenge for me. I just wrote the damn thing and let VM and his world sort of unfold as I went along. The trick (and I'm not sure I was successful all the time) was to make it seem like VM was a natural part of a bigger universe that slowly revealed itself as time went on, and to make seemingly disconnected episodes tie in to a grander plot. At the risk of sounding corny, I learned a lot about the craft of writing and grew as a writer while writing the blog, so I suppose I accomplished what I set out to do.
But now I must set aside The Velvet Marauder and Wombat and Yiff and Dr Quark and Margo and all these characters that I've grown sort of attached to and focus on other stuff. I invite those of you who may not have visited my blog Dave's Long Box to stop by - I'll announce any future projects on DLB, including any VM-related stuff.
Again, I want to thank everybody who has read VM over the past year -- it means a lot to me that people actually dug something that I wrote, and I hope to "see" you all in cyberspace soon.
Do not fear - there is a decent chance that The Velvet Marauder will return, in one form or another...
Thanks and good luck!
-David Campbell
It's like Bridget Jones' Diary, but with a super-powered vigilante.
November 23, 2005
November 05, 2005
A series of awkward but heartfelt metaphors
It feels great to go out on patrol again.
I suit up early and hit the town around sunset, when the streets are clogged with buses and cars abandoning the city for the night. The salty November sky is full of the river-rush white noise of traffic.
Sharing the top of a midtown condo with some seagulls, I watch the sun set on Evergreen City. The skyscrapers glow orange in the last rays of daylight. Across The Bay, the twin towers of the half-completed suspension bridge shimmer against the burning Pacific horizon. Behind me, huge pink thunderheads rise above a foundation of smeared grey clouds that cling to the darkening earth. Gulls whirl above the city like white leaves in a fall storm.
And then, the sun slips below the distant sea, and the rich warm colors fade. The city, The Bay, and everything before me turns a steely palette of blues and greys. The towering cumulus clouds glow for a few minutes, and then they too cool and turn blue.
A crescent moon rises in the south as the lights of the city twinkle to life. I turn around on the roof, letting the salty breeze tug at my topcoat. The pulsing red beacons of the radio towers throb like metronomes or lighthouses or something over South Bend.
The gulls scream and cry, then wheel away to wherever seagulls go when it’s dark.
Ahh, my city. Evergreen City.
I feel like beating up some muggers or something.
I suit up early and hit the town around sunset, when the streets are clogged with buses and cars abandoning the city for the night. The salty November sky is full of the river-rush white noise of traffic.
Sharing the top of a midtown condo with some seagulls, I watch the sun set on Evergreen City. The skyscrapers glow orange in the last rays of daylight. Across The Bay, the twin towers of the half-completed suspension bridge shimmer against the burning Pacific horizon. Behind me, huge pink thunderheads rise above a foundation of smeared grey clouds that cling to the darkening earth. Gulls whirl above the city like white leaves in a fall storm.
And then, the sun slips below the distant sea, and the rich warm colors fade. The city, The Bay, and everything before me turns a steely palette of blues and greys. The towering cumulus clouds glow for a few minutes, and then they too cool and turn blue.
A crescent moon rises in the south as the lights of the city twinkle to life. I turn around on the roof, letting the salty breeze tug at my topcoat. The pulsing red beacons of the radio towers throb like metronomes or lighthouses or something over South Bend.
The gulls scream and cry, then wheel away to wherever seagulls go when it’s dark.
Ahh, my city. Evergreen City.
I feel like beating up some muggers or something.
November 04, 2005
Back in the E.C.
Well, that was interesting.
Maybe I’ll get around to chronicling my cross-country adventures and my stay in New Avalon someday – sort of a “Velvet Marauder: The Lost Adventures” type of thing. Suffice to say I had a number of interesting and dangerous misadventures traveling this Great Land of Ours. I learned a few things about myself along the way, as well as crushing cultists, having sex with a mysterious female hitcher, nearly getting turned into a werewolf, battling mutant bikers, and enjoying roadside cafĂ© food. You know, the usual road trip stuff. It was like one big long episode of BJ and The Bear, only with no chimpanzee.
Now I’m back, and my house smells dusty and stale. Evergreen City looks a little different; the corner store down the street is gone and they’re putting up townhouses in its place, monorail construction is coming along, and they’ve begun building that suspension bridge across the mouth of The Bay. Looks like there’s been a spike in gang activity in Chinatown – Judo Boys versus a new gang. Paracrime bagged another superfreak last month.
So, I’m back, but I have one question:
Who the hell is Paleowolf and what is he doing in my city?
Maybe I’ll get around to chronicling my cross-country adventures and my stay in New Avalon someday – sort of a “Velvet Marauder: The Lost Adventures” type of thing. Suffice to say I had a number of interesting and dangerous misadventures traveling this Great Land of Ours. I learned a few things about myself along the way, as well as crushing cultists, having sex with a mysterious female hitcher, nearly getting turned into a werewolf, battling mutant bikers, and enjoying roadside cafĂ© food. You know, the usual road trip stuff. It was like one big long episode of BJ and The Bear, only with no chimpanzee.
Now I’m back, and my house smells dusty and stale. Evergreen City looks a little different; the corner store down the street is gone and they’re putting up townhouses in its place, monorail construction is coming along, and they’ve begun building that suspension bridge across the mouth of The Bay. Looks like there’s been a spike in gang activity in Chinatown – Judo Boys versus a new gang. Paracrime bagged another superfreak last month.
So, I’m back, but I have one question:
Who the hell is Paleowolf and what is he doing in my city?
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