A new tool for world-building

 

 

Have you ever wished you could actually SEE that wonderful world you've created for your latest book?

Have I got a tool for you...

I've just discovered Midjourney. I have a number of Facebook friends who've played with the software with stunning results. It's art created by an Artificial Intelligence. It's currently still in development but the beta version is out there for people to play with. The idea is that the user writes a description of what they want to see and the AI uses algorithms to interpret what is required. To do that, the AI analyses images across the web and comes up with its own interpretation.

You type in your prompt and the AI dummies up four pictures. You can then choose one to get other ideas based on your selection until you (might) end up with one that works for you. Be warned, most of the results are dead ordinary and you'll need a number of iterations.

It's fun, addictive, and you can try for free. Then there are paid plans (of course) which you will need if you want any reasonable results. Iteration is the name of the game as you choose which of the pictures it comes up with best suit your idea and use that one for a new round. Anyone who wants to try Midjourney should take a look at some of the many Youtube videos describing what to do. The interface is a bit messy to start with.

The other thing that's messy is the issue of copyright.

The AI collects ideas and art concepts from everywhere, including copyrighted images, to feed its algorithms. Indeed, online image selling sites like Shutterstock have refused to allow AI generated work. It's not something I feel qualified to discuss. As authors looking for cover art for our books, though, it is potentially an important issue. This article from Creative Indie by Derek Murphy is informative. You'll see some stunning images and read both how to use Midjourney, the pros and cons, and the problem of copyright. That section is labeled "What about the Copyright?"

Derek Murphy is a design professional. I'm just a retired old bag having a bit of fun. For my early dabble in the Midjourney world I asked for a picture of what I'd envisioned as the opening paragraphs of my story The Thunder Egg.

THE MIST HAD THICKENED. Two minutes ago, Afra had been able to read the writing on the shop fronts. Now, she could hardly see the signs. Her pulse pounded. She shouldn't have come this way, even if it was the fastest route back to the spaceport. She walked on, the sound of her footsteps muffled in the heavy air. Just a few more blocks and she'd be out of Old Port and its narrow, winding, cobblestoned alleys. Huh. The tourists thought it was picturesque. It was a great place to get mugged. 

I used the prompt "York shambles, cobblestoned street, mist, night, spooky, medieval buildings, woman walks toward viewer."

Here's what I got.

 From there I selected the bottom left image and ended up with this.

I thought that wasn't bad at all. But I've learned a bit more since then and this is what I've come up with for this scene.

So then I wondered how Midjourney would go at creating a picture of little Neyru, who is the star of the story and an entirely fantasy character.

"The thunder egg fell off the shelf where I'd put it, which was odd. I suppose she must have rocked it. When it hit the floor, it started to split and I realized there was something inside. I recall wondering if it would turn out to be some nasty, dangerous, alien creature. Until I saw her. She was half the size she is now, a little damp bundle. I'll admit I was startled and felt useless. What did I know about little alien hatchlings? But as it happened, I'd arranged to eat in my cabin and she dived on my dinner, steak with a salad. She ate steak till she was full, then sort of looked at me with those wonderful eyes like black holes and I was lost."

Where to from here? I started with "cute baby Pern dragon, pretty, smooth, 3D, sitting on hard floor, realistic." which resulted in this.

After a couple of iterations on image 1 (top left) I ended up with this,

I think she's utterly adorable.

If you're at all artistically inclined or would like to create an image of what you're seeing in your head as you write, take a look at Midjourney. It's one of the most fun venues for serious procrastination I've come across.

Oh, by the way, click on the link if you'd like to know more about Neyru and The Thunder Egg.

Cheers,

Greta

What about cockies?

It has been a somewhat tumultuous week in the Indie publishing world. Faleena Hopkins has dominated Facebook and Twitter with her copyright claim to the word "Cocky" - to the extent that reviews containing that word have been pulled by Amazon. That goes to prove what we already knew - these tasks are performed by bots, not humans. We've all talked about this for days, so I won't add much to the mess. Cocky is a word in the dictionary. It has been around for as long as Indie publishing  - maybe longer - as a word in a book title. And apart from that, we Australians use the word as an abbreviation for a cokatoo, and also for a farmer. The first of those would rarely be found in a romance - but the second might. Just think... "Jennifer's Cocky". The cover could have a semi-naked male with a boot up on a fence rail, hat on his head, wheat stalk in his mouth. Then again... what about a romance where a REALLY SMART cocky ((bird) who's really an alien in disguise) brings two people together in outback Australia? There's a thought.

The copyright this woman has claimed is being challenged on several fronts. I'll leave it at that.


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In the writing world, like many Indie authors, my sales have slumped. I feel like a surfer who almost caught the wave - but didn't paddle hard enough. However, writing is a challenge to me. It keeps my brain fit, so I'll keep on doing it. I think my next one will be another Morgan's Misfits adventure. It's another story I started, then stalled. That means I've been mulling it over for quite a while and yes, I think it'll work. Here's a snippet from the beginning. Marisa is about to meet the Misfits.

Marisa loitered around the corner from the glittering façade of the Celestial Palace Hotel, avoiding the liveried security guards who patrolled the street for undesirables daring to sully the entrance to Shar Burk's finest hotel. If Soldar didn't appear soon, she'd have to move on. She'd already turned down a prospective client but if she did that too often, even the bone headed security guards would start to wonder.

A punter strolled past, his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes all over her. His steps slowed. She took in the cut of his clothes, the way he approached. A wet-behind-the-ears kid off a freighter somewhere, on his first visit to the fleshpots of Shar Burk. His gaze probed the deep cleavage between her breasts, lingered on her nipples pushing against the light material. She could swear he was sweating already. It would be quick work. If she was interested. "Don't bother, son. You can't afford me."

He straightened, scowling. "How do you know? I might be rolling in dosh."

She waved him away. "Around here, we're expecting captains, not junior officers. Take yourself down to Minka. They'll be falling all over you." She pointed manicured nails. "Down there and turn right."

She hardly registered him walking away. A big, expensive skimmer drifted down onto the apron outside the Celestial Palace. She'd been in that limo more than once. The back door of the vehicle slid up. Marisa's hand crept to the pistol in the bag hung over her right shoulder, her fingers sliding around the butt. A figure alighted from the vehicle. A bodyguard, all muscle and no neck. A second man followed. Her pulse pounded. Soldar. At last. You're going to die, bastard. She'd practiced the shot a hundred times, leaning against a wall, firing without taking the pistol out of her bag. Then she would walk away, just another houri on her way to work in Minka.

A red-coated security guard lumbered between her and Soldar, who was running up the shallow steps beside the bodyguard. Damn it, move your great, hulking carcass. But the woman was walking toward her, coming here.

Marisa backed away, rage boiling in her gut. Damn her. Damn her to all the hells in the black abyss. She'd have to wait, try another day, another way. The towering security guard began to run. Marisa turned, ready to kick off her high heeled shoes. A hand gripped her arm, hard. She twisted her arm, snapped it up sharply to break the hold and lunged with her foot tilted, the high heel a spur.

Her assailant stepped aside and slipped a pistol out of her pocket. Emerald green eyes regarded her steadily.

Marisa swallowed. This woman knew what she was doing. "What do you want?"

 "I want to stop you from making a terrible mistake." The woman put the pistol back in her pocket, but there was no doubt it could reappear in a moment.

If you enjoyed that, and you haven't come across the Misfits before, you might like Kuralon Rescue.

Follow your dreams. You never know where they might lead you.
Jirra’s on the run, Siena’s rescuing her lover, Toreni wants Master Chef status and Chet wants her reputation back. Four women, four goals, and one very small ship. Add a fleet request to free a rebel, the promise of little to no help and a caste-defined society simmering with discontent on the edge of explosion.

Now, on their own, they’re staging an escape from a backwater prison planet and navigating the murky terrain of dreams forbidden by the rigid caste system underpinning their culture. Success demands more than team work. They’ll have to jettison their own prejudices and forge relationships free of the rules and caste lines.

There’s more than just lives at stake. There’s dreams and a possible tomorrow more fragile than gossamer.

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