Made some revision to the end of my last post, when I was blindingly drunk. I’m now, of course – it’s Saturday night – but at least I’m older not to write!
Local politics. I’ve no stomach for it, but Nichole has to have this out with the Mayor. Fret not: like all of Defiant, I cannot keep myself from killing people. This overlaps a tiny bit, to my last post, because I saw the wrong things.
As Churchill noted, jaw-jaw is better than war-war. But, there are some people that just need killin.’ Cannibals, for instance. I know way back in Defiant Act I, wrote that how they were dressed and cut their heads, “it was hard to tell the men from women.” So, I could be really edgy and call them tranny-cannies; that should trigger a few thousand hate-hits to my little blog.
Meh. I’m just here to tell the stories they show me; as Nichole discovers, sitting across from Mayor Johnson, in his study, politics is work.
Said Prince John to his brothers and Queen Eleanor, around 1185 in Chinon Castle.
I feel the same way. From my last post, I knew I’d seen enough to move things forward; not all in one day: my notes point toward about 11k words of story. But, time to get going!
So why do I have Teresa kissing Nichole outside the Miller Library? WTF does this have to do with the Cannibal Army storming the Lewis & Clark Bridge? Where’s the killing? Where’s the nerve gas? SRSLY?
If nothing else, I’ve SEEN when the breathless messenger comes rushing into the room where N and the Mayor are having their very guarded conversation, announcing the loss of the bridge to the Enemy. That’ll get things rolling! N has some funny, but pointed, things to say about how/why Japan lost the Pacific War, starting with Guadalcanal, and how that impacts His Honor’s response.
Bleeding Jesus, but I need an Editor!
Continue reading ““Oh my God! We’re Supposed to Start a War!””
…start blowing stuff up.” I realized Wednesday, after a small psychotic incident (when you wake up wondering if you’ve had a stroke, the rest of your day will not unfold well), that cutting myself off from creative works was turning into a very bad idea. After scaring the hell out of my boss with my borderline behavior, I excused myself at 1300 and went home to stare off my deck into my backyard.
After an hour of that, I got a notepad & pen and began. Nothing detailed, just trying to SEE. Made about a page and a half while my aggregates slowly coalesced into normalcy. In downtime on Friday, did some checking and realized the nuke plant NNW of Portland, from my childhood memory, was out: the progs have obliterated all trace of it. But, there is a bridge, about a mile north… about 3/4 page of notes.
Today, half of #fam was at swim meet, so more waiting to SEE. Finally got it: a wrap to the Cannibal Army from Act I, as well as exposition of local politics, more friend Mackenzie, and how Joe actually falls for Nichole. Literally: from an exploding bridge blanketed by nerve gas.
No story below the fold, but I did want to share my notes; they’re 1;4 and 2;3 in the pics, so don’t get confused. I’ve made a gallon of my super-concentrated tea for tomorrow and am going to bed early. Hoping for much friendship, politics, and mayhem, tomorrow!
For Act 2.5 of Defiant, I’ve dealt a little with Mackenzie and now with Teresa. They both have more to say, and I was planning on wrapping everything up about (two, three?) months hence with Joe’s diagnosis, say, two months before Nichole & Gil play out Act 3.
But… it seems too episodic: here’s side character #1, here’s side character #2…. That may work in a seasonal show, but not so much in a novel.
I need a theme for this arc, and I’ve got nothing. I thought it might be family & loss (suggestive of a book title) what with Mac’s dead brother and Teresa’s missing, presumed dead, mother (and I know some of Nichole’s siblings were ‘failures’). I might even find out more about Gil and Joe. I did have one of them say or think, “everyone has lost someone in the Breakup.”
Episodic’s fine for blog posts; not a coherent novel. I guess this is one of those retro times when I wish I had a traditional editor to tell me to get my shit together! I am not writing one more word until I understand what they want me to say.
***
Suggestions welcome.
When I began writing what I’d seen, the last little section about what Nichole just proposed to Teresa was nowhere there. Princess? Really? I’m worried that if I follow that, it would turn Defiant into an 120,000 word book. Perhaps I should consider making yet another MachCiv novel? Sheesh. Coming home from the food store today, I was thinking of taking a break from it all and turning the script of a proposed graphic novel – an over-the-top rated X graphic novel – into a little writing exercise. You know: just how Pirate Twins was an 5000 word writing exercise… at over 20k…
Anyway, following on Nichole’s and Teresa’s meeting at the PSU Miller Library, they start talking.
There’s much more I’ve seen that what opens below the fold, but having left work at 1730 to go home and change and get the right credit card, followed by a drive to Columbus to get sick Dog #1, back home, dinner (thanks to Daughter #1 for making curry!), a brief discussion of racial socio-economics with my girls – red-pilling them, in other words – I finally sit down at my laptop…
God, I’m tired. The rest of the cat-and-mouse conversation between Nichole and Teresa soon; tomorrow, I hope. It’s fun.
This took a turn for the somber I didn’t anticipate. Fallout from RealLife, I guess. There was more Nichole was going to say, but it was obvious I had to let Teresa have her say.
What a day.
It always make my dogs feel better. Me, too.
A long, dry spell of not-writing. Day Job has blown and several family issues. Getting back on track. This was a productive weekend, even if I’m another US$3000 in the hole.
“Defiant” – VERY likely under another name, my free webnovel, shall be published by Christmas. Read about how I’m completing it, below the fold.
With Pirate Twins, my 4000, er, 17,000 word writing exercise complete, I am now returning to my free webnovel, Defiant, to flesh it out into a proper novel.
. . .
I had nothing. For about two days. As usual, at Mass this evening, reflecting on the Gospel reading from Mathew (so you know ‘gnashing of teeth’ will be involved…) about forgiveness. I don’t know why, but I was led to think about the last paragraph of Act II, when Mackenzie accidently finds out what Nichole is.
In an instant, I ‘saw’ their conversation and reconciliation. Later that morning, they stand along the west bank of the Willamette River, watching the slow departure of HMIJS Kongo. That’s 3k words, right there. I was going to roll that over into going to class later that day or the next morning, but instead realized, with a smile, they’d be stopping in a Zom’s for a parfait or something. Add a heaping of Nike and there’s 2k more words.
It’s only when I try do I eff everything up. Shut up, Clayton, and write down what they show you….
machciv 