From the news, today.
From Chapter 13, page 207 of Cursed Hearts:
They walked quickly, generally to the southeast. Emma had told her new acquaintance that the Geisel Library was at the center of campus, so it was easy to find local food vendors set up around it all through the day. As Miss Barrett’s stomach continued to growl – embarrassing her for some reason – the sooner they got there, the better.
“…came here after getting my BS at Portland State.” Emma sighed. “The Breakup began just afterward. Most people left, but there was nowhere for me to go… so, like some friends of mine, we stuck it out here.”
“I do not understand how the world’s superpower could have been so stupid as to walk into that trap.”
“T… trap?” Taller, Emma worked to keep pace with the young woman. “But I thought just a coin-”
“Idiot.” Emma was learning quickly that her new acquaintance lacked manners. “Your President removed via extra-Constitutional means just as Russia, China, India roll out a new currency?” She stopped and turned so quickly, Emma almost ran into her.
“Look at you.” The scowl was there, but Emma hoped it was a spark of mirth she saw in those odd eyes. “You’re a walking cliché: blue jeans and blue eyes; blonde hair and an unnecessarily large chest! All the while knowing nothing about how this world really works! Bismarck was right!”
“Bi… Bismarck?” Maya shook her head and turned back around, looking at the Library.
“They should crucify this architect, too.”
An editor would probably tell me to lose this entire post below the fold. Yet another reason I self-publish.
What will have to be radically reassigned it the last bit of my last post, the part that is first-person Gil. There’s no way Nichole can ‘remember’ something from someone else; she’d run off at that point. Still, I was drunk and saw it, so I wrote it down. I’ll slip it in somewhere.
Which is something else I’m trying very hard to do: keeping this first-person Nichole. While my books have (few) good reviews on Amazon, there is particular criticism of how much I flick from character to character. I realize it is – hopefully becoming was – a bad habit of mine: as you all know, I ‘see’ these scene and write them down. Many are from the perspective of other characters. As in a film or animation, it would all be simple and obvious. As a book? My fault entirely. So, I’m really trying to rein that tendency in and getting into the heads of other characters as few and far between as I can.
It is tough. Especially once I’m into Part Three, when not just Nichole, but a host of other pivotal players in that Act. Rhun, Tessmer, Bakke, the Mayor, Teresa, Nike… how can I get this bloodbath done by Halloween?
Continue reading “Dead Time”
The few times I was out of cosplay as Elias Ainsworth, I tried to take pictures of the other fantastic outfits at Matsuricon. Those moments, honestly, were few and far between. About every thirty minutes I had to take the mask off – too hot! – but it got to the point others would see my clothes and the head and say, “Oh my gosh! Can I take your picture?!” and back on the head went.
If you’re curious and on Instagram, try my account, @machciv, along with #Matsuricon.
In other news, I realized as I was waking up this morning, that, so far from a power source, Nichole would need to carry some with her. The rest of this scene wrote itself.
Continue reading “Reaching Power”
Took less editing than I thought: drunk or sober, I’m a genius. More likely, I’m just really lucky. I hope to find some inspiration to take my story in unexpected ways at tomorrow’s Matsuricon. Nichole will not be invited nor privy to Adam’s & Bakke’s discussion… perhaps she’ll chat with the men, to find out more about what’s coming: the movement of tens of thousands of men, women, and children. They might be loyal Political Police, but everyone gets nervous when their neighborhood changes so dramatically and quickly.
“Everyone’s a conservative on what they think they know best,” and don’t we all think we know our own homes?
If I don’t get divorced, arrested, or dead from alcohol poisoning at the animecon, I hope to post more on Sunday night! Cheerio!
Continue reading “Closing Night; moves”
I’ve roughed out 900 words with Nichole, Bakke, and the chieftain. But it’s late and I cannot begin to even make minor edits. I’ll round it all out tomorrow evening.
I’ll be going dark for 36 hours after that as my family is off to Matsuricon, central Ohio’s 2nd largest animecon. The panels look meh, but I’ll look awesome.
Last night, right before I passed out, I heard and saw Nichole’s indignation: I don’t have a smell! Everything else flowed from that. Tomorrow, hopefully (and by ‘hopefully’ I mean ‘with caffeine tabs’) we’ve the rest of their 3-way conversation.
The priest-shaman guy worries me. Religious wars are ugly.
Continue reading “Opening Night; moves”
A bit more from the scene in my last post. I’m not sure why this contingent of the horsemen are there, either. With dinner over – my wife made stir-fried pork with fried rice – I’m going to pour and glass and try to listen in along with Nichole…
Continue reading “Blood and soil”