I really like this story. It’s wonderfully… comfortable. That will change, of course, in time. Akaiame is on the second-tallest building for a reason…
Tag: ideas
MCD – Abandoned Factory 2
Parts 0-2 are already at 2500 words. Let’s go ahead and call this one a light novel or novella. Anyone wanna do the b&w illustrations for me?
MachCiv Dreams 4 (Abandoned Factory 0)
Not knowing much, well, anything, about international copyrights, this could best be called fanfiction. The main character here, Nike, plays a not-insignificant role in my forthcoming novel, Defiant.
This story takes place in a world created by Yoshitoshi ABe nearly twenty years ago. It yielded an anime that – while dated – is one of the most powerful and compelling stories I’ve ever experienced. For a non-Christian, ABe had an amazingly Catholic vision.
And yes: I do know who’s in the cocoon.
MachCiv Dreams 1
Yeah, it’s not the best title, but it captures what these are: micro (micro, tanjit! no 18k light novels!) stories from my world of Machine Civilization. It keep me writing and sane, at least one of which is a good thing.
Below the fold is after “Cursed Hearts.” A friend of Cat’s begins to get her life back together, just to see that interrupted. Spoilers.
Blogging Counts as Writing…
the same way watching a Conan film counts as going to the gym. But, I wanted to talk about theology. Because Dante’s Comedy came into being – in vernacular – a generation or so before both Gutenberg and the so-called Protestant Reformation, the idea that there are three states after death became entrenched in the popular mind. To we followers of Holy Mother Church, that’s crap: there is only Heaven or Hell. Purgatory, invented by publishers to sell more books, is just Heaven’s… entryway? mudroom? foyer? It’s where you get yourself cleaned off and your shit together before coming further into the mansion for the grand party you were invited to. Walking into that covered in shit and blood would be rather rude, what?
I thank God for revealing the Tradition of Purgatory to His Church. If I really, honestly, believed that I had to be utterly perfect on this Earth to merit Heaven… suicide or Stalin seem to be the only responses to that. Given my personal unresponsiveness to the need of people about me, I pray for a long, long stay in the Foyer before I join the Party. Be rather rude if YHWH just let me in and while taking a flute of Champaign, I brushed past the Son with a muttered “…bloody wog!”
And that’s why most of my characters are finding their way there: Purgatory. Or, if you prefer, Guri (Glie). I’ve already written here, on this blog, shorts, where we see Nike, Maya, “Orloff” all having their moments. Honestly, I CANNOT wait to see the sunshine and be just a little drunk to write the book where ALL of them are there! Just tonight, I saw a little short between Emma (human) and Gordon (machine) of my most recent novel, Cursed Hearts, talking about the deaths of all their friends.
These blog posts keep me coming back to life, as it were. Hoping for greater things, very soon.
Tears, sweat, blood
To cite Arkada of Glass Reflections: ladies, gentlemen, and others, I present to you the final installment of Act 2.5 of “Defiant.” Yes, you read that right: the writing component is complete. Editing and ret-conning the four parts of this 18-month, 85.5k writing exercise into a proper novel will begin.
And therein lies your chance, you followers of this blog and those that have wandered in via my sole social media presence on Gab.ai: if you so desire, you can d/l and read the entire story between now and Saturday, for free. It’s very, very rough, but you’ll get what you pay for. Come Saturday, whenever I wake up, I’ll be pulling the entire ‘free webnovel’ down as I begin to turn it into a commercial novel. As always, I’ll do the first-pass editing myself. Second and copyediting – and a cover – are as yet an unknown; after the layabout wife and the Dog With the Golden Nose, it’s all ramen and Taco Bell salsa packets here. My sole, possible, hard-deadline, is January 26th, when I might have another Creative Writing panel at Ohayocon. If I do, I’d like to say, “since my last panel, I’ve published two books… what did you do?” Keeps the snarkers from snarking.
Anyway, there’s just over thirty five hundred fricking words below the fold! Open a bottle of wine or make a pot of coffee, the one right next to that bottle of bourbon, sit back, and, please, see what I’ve seen… and have fun!
“When in doubt…
…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!
Bloodlines
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.
Heading back Down in the Park
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….
Pirate Twins 10
Was originally going to stop this whole thing at #10. Momentum and the gathering thereof. So, maybe #15. This is a little shorter, as there’s not that much talking in it: Logres and Europa get some together-time and use their mouths for something else. If you’re below the age of twelve, this segment has icky-mushy stuff in it. You’ve been warned.
It’s the weekend, so I think I’ll get another drink and go ahead and write #11.
machciv 