Had today off. A late start (around 1300) but was able to say down about 1700 words: Sylvia in her new position, recruiting allies, and with a sudden, unanticipated visitor. I think she handled herself very well.
I see one more “dream sequence,” which we know now is when she is summoned into the Machine’s world. Then she sets off to New Mexico. Things… things go to shit there, I’m afraid.
We start to learn a little more about the man who built ExComm: Clive Barrett. My mental model for him is a cross between Felicks Dzerzhinsky and James Jesus Angleton. NOT a healthy combination!
I had planned a slightly surreal soliliquy by Barrett about what-all he’s trying to accomplish with ExComm but it simply would not fit: the man is too much a monster and the words didn’t work in his mouth. I’ve already about 800 words after this scene and once I see Sylvia back to her flat I think things are going to take a turn for the surreal. That’s fine; I have never gone fully surreal and I like to push my own limits with each new book.
But for now, here’s Sylvia talking FTF with her boss. Cheerio.
In an unfortunate way. Import Third World people; get Third World problems. An excerpt from “Foes and Rivals” below the fold.
And going out with not one bangs but two! First, in Straight from the Library we’ve a kind of character interview. I wrote it as a machine recording from their future… an exchange between Nichole 5 and a human questioner. It’s a little… odd. But then machine memories will be.
The other stop is Hope, Dreams, Life… Love. Things my stories are made of! The handful of usual unimportant questions about me, but then I get to share! A link to the somewhat rough short story I now call “Factory Girl” but is linked to under “Nike 1”. I play in someone else’s sandbox to try to give two of my more tortured characters a chance at redemption.
It’s been a fun month, everyone! My wife starts a new job on the 18th! I also on the 25th! Being Lent, I’m writing at least 1,000 words per day! Knocking out the rest of “Worlds Without End” is in my grasp! I hope everyone has enjoyed finding out more about my stories… please look forward to more!
Between the cheap wine, caffeine tabs, and lisinopril, I’m keeping at it every night this week. As I was finishing this up, I was, thank God, allowed to see that a brigade of the Nation is already closing on the flimsy position the City has north of the bridge. This will allow me to avoid any prolonged battle and instead precipitate the domino-like collapse of first Portland’s armed defense followed by its civil collapse.
In the mean time, let’s wrap things up with the Mayor.
Everyone that looks at Nichole, “…a seeming poster girl for Irish Tourism!…” is often taken aback by the fact that, one, of course, she’s a three year old machine, and two, was coded and raised in Japan. Orientals and Asians are not self-loathing as Whites have been taught to be over the past 4-5 generations. Some things obvious to her are total heresy to those about her.
Dialog! At last! Lots and lots of dialog! And while everyone is talking, I set forces in motion that cannot be slowed or stopped. We’ve Teresa firmly in the picture, a glimpse of Mackenzie; I just need Nichole’s love, Gil, back in. Once I’ve everyone in hand, it’s ‘that famous final scene.’
In an absurd burst of enthusiasm, I thought I could finish the manuscript this weekend. My new doctor certainly wants me to: “you’re drinking too much; your liver numbers are shot to hell.” Great. I told her I’ll cut back in a week or so, once finished.
It has been a difficult transitional period in the story. I did NOT want to write yet another battle, swirling about Nichole, but was uncertain how to write around it. Last night, after watching a few old music videos, I saw the part of Nichole and Armando having a quiet moment – not a war moment – in the back of the MRAP. That let’s me tell the story to the point where things fall to shit and she get’s out of there, on a mad dash south, where she’ll encounter Major Muller & his 2nd Detachment of Cavalry as well as Friend Joe, serving in Militia A, holding the supply line between Portland and Longview.
After that? Into the City with the Nation on their heels. Rocks fall; everyone dies. I’m so happy to be writing this…
