Empire’s Agent, pt.(7)

Back on track.  I re-re-read what I’d re-read yesterday.  I’m just a middle-aged hack, but FFS, that was awful!  Was I really drunk enough to write that?

I didn’t even bother editing it:  deleted.  Let’s try again.  Sure:  dashing Arpad is something of a player; nothing at all wrong with that.  Has he a history?  Well, lookie here…!

[Personal aside:  thought about this all morning.  Left phone upstairs in pharmacy while I went to eat lunch in ground floor cafeteria.  Rather than troll news sites, I spent the next forty-ish minutes thinking about this story.  Bits.  Pieces.  Glimpses.  Pic…

What?  Oh:  “picnic.”  My imagination opened like a carpet.  Arpad owes Lily a lunch at her hospital, but after that… they’re going to go on a little date… how, why, where… don’t bother me:  I’m writing!]

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The Second Bridge, pt.8

Much better now.  My wife made the astute observation:  “this is going to kill you.”

Of course it will!  But I rather die in a weltering of my stories than a drugged plant in front of the teevee, shoveling cheesy-puffs into my mouth.

Below, originally from my second novel, Echoes of Family Lost, are two now very old friends talking shop.

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The Second Bridge, pt.2

At 1800, my wife was at the far end of the dining table looking at dishwashers on her phone.  She thinks we need a new one; I think she needs to do a better job rinsing dishes before she puts them in.

Anyway.

At that time, I was staring off, wondering what to write.  I kinda/sorta knew Gary was due for an appearance, but I really didn’t –

And then, in an instant, I did.  Everything below the fold was there in my eyes.  Creative writing is so… strange!

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The Second Bridge, pt.1

After last night I knew I had to get back to writing or I’d die.  Considered various ideas throughout the workday.  Just after 1700, when I was cleaning the isolation hood, the roar of its motor must have mixed with the chemicals in the Cavicide wipes to let me see something.  Not a lot of detail but certainly a week’s or more worth of story.  I’d been thinking about Faustina, however by lunch I’d come to know I didn’t know her well enough to tell her story.

For Gary and Henge, though, I’d already laid down two big markers:  one in “Echoes of Family Lost” and another in ‘Worlds Without End.’  I’ll be picking them up now.  This is, I think, going to be a great deal of fun!

This may seem shorter than usual, but when you only need to write dialog, as in a play, it tends to keep your word count down.

PS  I came up with the title after writing all this.  It derives from something Ai said late in “The Fourth Law.”  In doing so, I may have been given a glimpse of Faustina’s story.  Apologies to Cornelius Ryan in advance.

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MachCiv Dreams – Empire’s Agent (end?)

Yes!  Right where I wanted this one to go!  Sometimes they show me what I’m hoping to see and this was one of those times!

A summary of my Lenten writing exercise tomorrow and likely a short stream of consciousness rant on wither next.

For those putting up with this and all the other shorts from my future history of Machine Civilization, thank you!  Let’s do it more!

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MCD – Worlds Without End (end)*

*See what I did there?

Yesterday’s impression – and I don’t do impressions – was correct:  the eighth installment was a good place to stop.  However, I’d already written most of this last, and did not want it to go to waste.  I’ve even seen a little beyond it, one of the dangers of writing, but Gary & Henge’s micro-story is at a close.  For now.  The coda, below, features Faustina, who, sooner than later, will have her own book.

What’s – or rather – who’s next in my Machine Civilization Dreams series…?

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