Mr. Grinspoon’s Girls — Synopsis
Yesterday I announced my upcoming podcast, Mr. Grinspoon’s Girls—which will debut on March 18th! So…what’s it about?
It’s synopsis time, people. But before that…
(Click to embiggen!)
This is the (gorgeous, amazing, glorious) official Grinspoon banner and logo, created for me by the (amazing, glorious, talented) artist Bernardo Garcia. You should go check out his work.* It was such a pleasure to work with him!
From now on, whenever this banner fronts a blog post, that means the post is about Grinspoon. Fewer zombies, more clockwork people.
With that said:
Where the Sea of Aevum meets the Sea of Sidera, there exists an island-kingdom known as Cantamen.
(To be updated as, you know, places are invented.)
The people of this isle are, to use a popular word, wizards. Magic is commonplace, and always has been. The history of the island-kingdom is seeped in magic, its wars fought with magic, its cities built with magic.
Well, until the advent of the machines.
Until the rise of Nicholas Grinspoon.
Grinspoon’s mechanical genius gives birth to a new era—one in which machines enter into popular use. But he soon tires of creating calculators and pocket watches, steam-powered conveyances and automated forklifts.
And he circumvents the highest law in the nation—commits the darkest of sins.
He grants his machines souls.
The result is years of strife, tragedy, and bloody conflict. What follows are the stories of his creations—biological and mechanical. The story of Allan Grinspoon, Nicholas’s son, who bears the burden of his father’s crimes. Of Anastasia Grinspoon, bright toy of the King of Cantamen, who dares to fall in love. Of Martha Grinspoon, a ticking assassin who burns with hatred for humanity. Of little Dinah Grinspoon, a wretched waif who desires nothing more than to be cherished by her creator. Of Vessa Marchand, a young countess “abducted” by a living statue. Of the Curators, fascists to some and saviors to others. Of ensouled robots fighting for their freedom. Of sentient beasts and elegant insect people, of ghosts and orphans, of magic and mechanics.
But above all, what follows is a story of the self.
What does it mean to have a soul?
What does it mean to lose it?
Thoughts? Preliminary criticisms? Share them below! Meanwhile, tomorrow we’ll meet a few of Cantamen’s denizens…flesh and metal alike.
*Some of Bernardo’s work edges on the risque. You’ve been warned. Visit at your own risk!