Enough politics. The second section of this book is supposed to highlight Mac, so let’s get the camera back where it belongs. Hopefully my RealLife family is back in two days, so I might be busy cleaning up tomorrow. It’s good to be writing again; we’ll see.
Category: creative writing
Questioning Civic Orthodoxy
Taking to Americans, especially White Americans, about any form of government different than what we have now is a huge exercise in futility. Europeans at least have a couple of thousand years playing about with nations and states. Northeast Asia has had some clever mixes of despotism. But here, it’s always “1776!” and “muh Constitution!”
It’s not just because I know history so well. There are plenty of folks who know history better than I do but flinch as if shot when I suggest that our federal republic has outlived its usefulness. I really think it has to do with family: that fact that mine is so old and predates the Republic helps, but is not the only factor. Still, having ancestors is a tremendous psychological cushion, as it were, when looking at our day to day crises.
Witch
Trying to keep some momentum up. After Mass this morning came home to at least mow the front yard. Haven’t done that in two years – what are kids for? – and managed to not have a heart attack. Did some cleaning about he house for fam’s return this week. While I miss them all, I’m really missing my wife, if you receive my meaning. Still, have managed to lay down some more words about what leads up to Nichole’s mission to the Nation: the Huns living in the badlands far east of Portland. Sneakers gotta sneak.
Buttercup
Typed a little during the week. Spent most of my off-work time drunk. Beginning to wonder is that pain under my right ribcage is at all related to that? Dog still dead, fam still gone… one of those two should be back Wednesday or Thursday. Three weeks to Matsuricon.
WTF is going on in Nichole’s Part Two?
Pulling my pants down
It’s been an awful week: dog dead, family off on vacation, my boss back… an Iliad of woes. Very difficult to write in such an environment.
Thus, even a pantser such as I must break down and make some outlines, becoming a plotter, lest nothing be written at all. Below the fold is a pic of the notes I made this afternoon; I was able to lay down about 700 words in the evening, but things are in flux.
What were I an OCD such as Acire: able to plan an entire month! Two partial days on the heels of tragedy is the best I can do. Content tomorrow… what else is left to me?
N2 P2
After an awful time last week, I try to crawl back into the cockpit and see where in the hell this flight is going. Oh, yes: time to get started on Part Two. Let’s start with a little exposition. After that, I’ll – as I do – fill in the backstory, then come back to “realtime.”
I’ve looked down from the Blue Mountains toward Pendleton over a dozen times. It’s breathtaking.
001
At 19,074 words, the raw manuscript of Part 1/3 of Nichole5’s second book is complete. While trying to keep it light-hearted and romantic, I had no choice but to lay some groundwork for what’s coming: Nichole & John Brunelli personally reconning what’s going on across the Columbia River, to the far northeast of the City. Teresa both a passive informant as well as secretly excited at the possibility of succeeding her father in power*. And finally the simple girl, Mackenzie: who just wants to make beautiful art, about to become a double-agent.
Nearly 20k words, and not one battle! I must be thinking back to my roots as an author! Wonder what that bodes for Part 2/3? Will it open in the middle of combat, or will things continue to progress slow by slow? The world wonders. And for Nike and Zom’s? I’m not remotely close to looking past that curtain.
*I recalled the scene from Robert Graves “I, Claudius,” where, some days after being picked to be Emperor by the Praetorian Guard, Claudius meets with a select few of the Senate leadership:
A senator: “You are not fit for this job!”
Claudius: “I agree. I am old; some say I am without my wits. But I am alive while dozens of my family went to the grave with theirs fully intact! You say I have no experience… do you have more? I’ve been in the Imperial Household since my birth, watching how it works. Do you know more?”
Expect Teresa (via Nichole) to have a similar speech in Part 3/3… if she’s still alive. Also, I hope in this installment I’ve captured Nichole’s recognition of the moral grey zone she’s stepped out into, by asking what she does of her friend. I realized, just now, that she’s created a box of safety around her boyfriend. Good Lord, but that’s going to backfire.
Friend for dinner
Work sucked less; dog still not well. After work had to walk to my car in the rain. I’m writing books set in Portland, so I regarded it as theater training. Still maneuvering my way to the conclusion of Part 1 while at the same time laying the groundwork for Part 2
I want to show that Gil and Nichole love one another, but at the same time I want to show that they both know there’s something very odd about their relationship. In other words, it’s a pretty typical guy-gal thing.
Prednisone & Gabapentin
For the dog, not me. I’m for the cheap wine, with some occasional gin in the warmer months. See, for example, my recent post on Instagram (@machciv). The story below follows immediately on that from my last blog post; I’d seen all of it, but was just too tired. Bad news at work, bad news at home… it piles up. Instead, let’s have three friends drink tea and nibble cookies on a rainy, Portland, Sunday afternoon!
Silverfeet
As long-time readers know, if I “go dark” right in the middle of a narrative, it’s a bad attack of RealLife. This was; again. And, it was onto someone who does not deserve it: God, the Fates… someone resents tf out of our naming our eldest dog Lucky Star. At eight years old diagnosed with sarcoma; two nasal surgeries followed by radiation.
Now, less than six months later, his breathing becomes labored. A week later, he is weak on his front legs. Monday, he cannot walk. Vet consult to consult to consult: I shan’t bore you with details. It might be a slipped cervical disc in his neck. Anesthesia for an MRI/surgery has a good chance of killing him due to his congestive heart disease. For now, we’re throwing prednisone at the wall and hoping it sticks.
After eight hours in the vet ER Tuesday, I’m not really in the creative mode. Fortunately, after my Lenten Exercises, it’s difficult to stop. I was able to put together what’s below the fold over two days. I’ve a quarter-page of hand-written notes about how to wrap up Part One. My wife and girls are off to a major, but local, swim meet this weekend; we three old, dying, dogs shall sit about the house and eye one another. I’ll type, too. I appreciate everyone for putting up with me. I’ll do better, soon.
machciv 