Taking Colour

Vet appt for new puppy, Yuki, this morning. All seems well but he’s a little tired and cranky from a couple of shots. Then I had to repair one of our toilets; normally not a big deal but my left hand is not very functional right now (switd?) due to a ganglion cyst, so I nearly threw my back out contorting myself.

I now think I can turn this into a novel. That means one thing which implies another: a 50,000-word count minimum (currently just over 12k) and I cannot just jettison the reason I started this; that is, Colour. There is precedent in my other works where a demi basically tells a human, “follow me,” and expects it to be done. And here it is again. I have a suspicion this mature lady is about to have her world turned upside down.

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Colourful Sunrise

Busy weekend. Nearly three hours at DayJob (Saturdays are usually only two) followed by putting the shelve together. After Mass and paying bills on Sunday, I had to haul said shelf and copies of my books to the mall… where they are having a car show. And thus no place to park. I cheat and use my wife’s cripple tag which also makes me have to walk less. Consult with the store owner about where to set up, put out books, decide that sucks, re-arrange books, re-consult with owner, and leave. I still had more to do about the house – putting the toilet overhaul off until Tuesday – so no time to write. As I anticipated that I did not feel guilty. But after nothing over the last two days, today’s installment is a little longer.

More politics. It looks like Aurie is winning and it also looks like she nearly blew it by going too far, too fast. Except for the Canadians, who have played nice with them for nearly three generations of the Change, the good folks of the Northern Federation are a socially conservative, quiet lot. Very wary of change.

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A Data Dump of Colour

Wherein I mine three? Four? Different books of Machine Civilization for Aurie to thoroughly confuse her friend with a real-world demonstration that when, some posts ago, the princess said, “we demis think fast!” she meant it. To each other and humans.

I like how when Colour probes some of Aurie’s defenses, she gets the polite equivalent of “not telling” right back at her. Like y’all, I’m beginning to understand that there are things Machines know demis won’t get and things demis know humans won’t. A future both simpler and vastly more complicated.

Side note: lots of about-the-house projects this weekend so we’ll be back on Monday.

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Exit Nephew of Colour

I thought of posting this as an 1100-word bloc, but it breaks nicely with the two women seeing Filk Jansen off before they take a stroll in the wood. That will be the last segment before Aurie is back to the Governing Council for a little hardball.

It’s interesting that when Aurie taunts humans it’s primarily out of fun. Faustina did it because, as one of her relatives later said, “being a jerk is who she is.”

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Colour of Morning

Apologies for yesterday. I try to stay about 1500 word ahead on these but I do not know if I was exhausted or just had some summer cold. Fortunately off from DayJob, I slept most of the day. I made a steak dinner but was too tired to eat and even didn’t drink any alcohol. Yeah: anyone who knows the slightest bit about me should re-read that: I turned down steak and alcohol.

Back to DayJob for just a little today as I also had to make a doctor’s visit about this ganglion cyst on the underside of my left wrist. Been putting up with it for two months but it started to hurt all the time. Looks like minor surgery in mid-September to excise it.

More importantly, it seems Aurie gets both playful and frisky in the early mornings. Can you imaging her doing this with a legion of 5200 men? Or her current army, four times that size? I bet all those men are in love with her and scared to death of her. Which is a good place to be for General Hartmann.

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Changing Colour

I’m going to try to accelerate this story and turn it into a book. My cover designer and her children in Germany are reduced to sneaking into the woods at night to glean firewood for the coming winter. A so-called first world country. F*cking Progs. If I can turn this into a book that’s another $300 for her and her fam.

With Filk’s arrival, Aurie turns the teasing up to “11.” A little exposition. And then a demonstration of raw power.

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Questions of Colour

This is a cheap and dirty way of exposition for an author to tell his readers something: Q&A between characters. Those of y’all who have been following MacCiv for years know all of this but if I turn this into a novella or novel, it is my responsibility to make sure the future reader knows what is going on.

There have been elective monarchies in human history. They tended to fail quickly. Elective within a family is an idea Dr. Jerry Pournelle mooted in his CoDominium future history. Empress Faustina allows many local forms of government, including democracies and republics, but tolerates none of that at a national level. When she is good and ready, she’ll designate an heir.

What if she is hit by lightning or a truck? I do not know. I don’t think there would be a civil war (and if there was, it would be between Laszlo and Aurie; the rest of the family just doesn’t care or want the awful responsibility of running an empire) but I cannot say for certain.

I’m going to write a little more this evening. Three whiskies in hot-head Filk vs. perfectly sober demi-human Aurelia? This will be a hoot. I hope Colour can keep the peace under her roof. See everyone on Monday!

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Coloured Photos

Aurie is welcomed into her new friend’s home and learns a little more about her family. That will be reversed in the next installment when Aurelia invites Colour to get to know her better.

Where in the hell did Filk go? He was told to come to his aunt’s place and it just isn’t that far. I’ll look into that.

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The Colour of Darkness

We get the titular character’s nephew sorted out but it appears he’ll be back shortly. The pace of this story once again slows down with two new friends content to simply be with one another.

And, yes, Aurie’s line below was cribbed from “Blade Runner.” Authors steal from each other all the time; it’s the nature of the calling.

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