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.
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!
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.
A close follow-on to yesterday. I knew where it was going, but wanted to take great care to get the conversation right.
The Russians have a saying: any meeting that does not start with a drink* is inherently hostile.
*Of course alcohol. What about Russians didn’t you understand?
Now that the plot is finally here, it’s time to introduce our antagonist. The Fourth Law didn’t really have one. Echoes and Cursed Hearts had one’s that were also sympathetic. Friend & Ally’s was more off camera than on. This time, it’s going to be different. Yet another new way for me to write!
Anything set by firelight is amazingly atavistic. We are the descendants of all those that stayed close to their family and the fire to listen to wondrous stories. Think of it as evolution in action.
Not much… but in the captain’s comment in the end: a glimmering of plot.
Hey, it’s American adoption of the DoI Day… I need to add some kind of military engagement!
Because I needed to put the third and final piece (eavesdropping and Mackenzie) into place, first. Now the rest of Part One can begin to unfold. Things are going to be fine.
In Part One.
God was kind enough to give me two pieces of the puzzle to part 1 of my next book. Just now I saw the third piece*… right when I have to make dinner** for the family… arrgh!
*Nichole, as hybrid student/teacher in V. Bishop’s coding class, has a discussion after class with Vicki about improvements to the gain of the remote sensors used by the agriculturalists up the Columbia. If Nichole backtracks on Mackenzie, that yields her:
1. A personal agent in the dictator’s household;
2. An agent with access to financial records;
3. A means of audio eavesdropping.
YES!
**Pork medallions in mustard-cream sauce, flambed with apple brandy.
Still messing about with my characters, but, plot-wise, there’s no there-there.
Time, alcohol, caffeine, and nicotine will fix. Please bear with me.
machciv 