Between men and women are bad enough. Alliances? Blood, everywhere. I’ve written a bit more, but will try to add to it and post it, tomorrow. Must make an end…
Category: writing
“There’s a Geoff Tate on the line…?”
I thought everything was going to Hell. No, let me try again: I remain convinced that everything is going to Hell. It’s just that somehow – again! – Nichole started talking and is trying to save everyone and everything… including me. It’s a good speech of hers, and almost convincing… but as the author, I’ve the SMOD Card in my hand, and I’ll be playing it either 1) once this clown-show is coiling back along itself toward Portland; or 2) In the next sentence I write where another rider comes in with preliminary non-com casualty figures… including Rhun’s children…
Rejects
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…
Descent
Things are going to get rather unpleasant from here on out, That’s what’s it like to destroy a world.
Chessboard
Just about everyone is where they need to be. Some shuttle diplomacy by Nichole, getting Brunelli, Reilly, and Jenkins back into the fray, and then I can let everything go to hell. How nice, for me.
Did I mention I’m taking the rest of the year off after this?
“Lights go down; stage is set”
A good time write; move things outside. Weather clear. Forecast: genocide.
Getting the Point
As can be seen in the image, all my notes are complete. It’s merely a matter of me hearing their dialog that tells the story. Tired, of course, today, but was able to hear enough to share. When all this is finished and shoved off to my copyeditor I may take 48 hours completely off. And drink less; my liver hurts all the time, now.
Crossing the divide
After being so far into Nichole’s world over the weekend, my boss asked me about ten minutes into work, “Are you okay?” At least I was able to confuse her with my reply…
“I am only a little in your world.”
Fortunately I never really crossed back, so was able to rush home and toss out what’s below. Starts off playful, but once over the pass, goes dark quickly. Not sure what, beyond notes, I’ll manage the rest of the week, but I’ll do my best.
Gotta love them lampshades!
A good weekend: no one died, in the story or in RealLife, and I was able to lay down 4k words. Wish my tanjed DayJob boss would get her shit straight with Madam Clio and find another job! Not one of any of the other pharmacists I work with have issues such as hers; “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” We’d one dog from southern Indiana; a Westie, so pre-crazy. Everyone else I’ve known from Indiana seems deranged, just like her.
Anyway. Show’s over and the Nation is on the move! A few, short, snapshots to get them over the pass and into the Centralia Valley. I did get a little sidetracked – still working on it, in fact, but the lead combat force of the horsemen, basically 17,500 dragoons with 2,500 responsible for light to medium artillery, are bearing down on Napaville as we speak. I allow Rhun a tell about how he plans to run the op against the cannibals, as well as letting you, the pre-readers, know how the turnabout against the City’s Regulars will happen, too.
Those of you that are of the faith, pray for me that I can keep this up all week; I know I cannot do this alone. Deus Volt!
Lake Missoula
Wrote about 500 words in the early afternoon and quickly realized I was going B-F-B-F again; it happens when you’re a Pantser: you’re getting along on a storyline and suddenly realized, crap! I didn’t give that any exposition! So, I spent an hour polishing the 500 words and inserting them retroactively while making several other editing changes, all the while imaging what it was like in the 20th Century where writers quite literally cut and pasted their manuscripts.
Having said all that to say this: the first part is what I wrote about Jenkins then spent time retconning it into what you’ve already read. The rest is getting the Nation moving north and west, ending with Nichole putting on her new Bard hat! One more gloss to see the military units of the Nation over the Cascades, meeting the City’s Regular Army, then turning north against the cannibal’s main horde, as the civilians on the horse-drawn wagons make their way into the area around Napavine… and then…
machciv 