Okay, I'm getting depressed about writing. I just may not have it in me to write what people want to read. Not that doubts are exactly unfamiliar to the artist -- the reading I'm doing about the artists of the belle epoque certainly underlines that! -- but as they say (in another context), they laughed at Bozo the Clown, too.
But in my random search this for background noise while I try to get some work done anyhow I stumbled on a collection of the big scenic pans from the James Bond series. Many of these are tourist-brochure shots, many are in the playgrounds of the well-to-do (seriously, there are a lot of upscale ski lodges there).
But they also are lush romantic compositions from Barry, Newman, Hamlisch, showing the wonder and thrill of these striking, often exotic landscapes. And that's reminding me what I was stumbling towards in the Athena Fox series.
I am trying to get to all these amazing places, and have adventures in them with fast chases in hot cars and sword fights in unlikely places and all that fun...and still be sort of having something to do with the real world, if I can.
And at the moment I can't think of a better vehicle to write those stories.
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