Tag: Maine

Colour of Maine (3/3)

First short of the next collection complete (barring copyediting, of course). I’m rather please for how I wrapped it up, keeping with the religious and life-affirming themes of my works (barring all those people Fussy and Aurie have killed, of course; that’s war, not murder – a critical distinction).

My future history is called Machine Civilization, but there are times where it’s all humans, or sometimes humans and demis. I’m glad I was able to get tribe Toshsaka back into the fray. Many no longer have any relationship with physicals at all. Nice to see Thaad, eldest Thinking Machine on Earth, is still about.

I don’t think it’s prurient to mention Colour’s post-coital response. I recall a million years ago, BC (before children), when my wife was overseas on assignment in the Far East for a mere six months. I made sure she couldn’t walk much the next day; funny thing was, with those muscles out of use, I couldn’t much either.

Trying to piece my way through a second story. Having people talk to themselves, by themselves, is not really engaging to the reader, so, like an orb, I am pondering things.

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Colour of Maine (2/3)

We start with more politics with the NorFed Executive Council before Colour pokes the wrong bear and gets her orders from Aurie. Part of this is fun for me: only by being middle-aged myself could I imagine “old folks” striking up a romance. What I would have considered creepy in my 20s is perfectly normal, now.

When Colour walks out of the meeting, I had to remind myself just how do you get ahold of someone in a tech environment equivalent to the 1970s? We all take our phones for granted. Fortunately, Loup must have realized that, too, so I had him hanging out in the area. We find out why he’s there.

Conclusion tomorrow. With the Henge-talk at the end of this part, I’m now thinking she should get a short story, too.

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Colour of Maine (1/3)

Happy New Year. Yeah, sure. Buy precious metals: silver and lead. In the meantime, I am beginning book #19: my third short story collection. Especially after my last three novels, there are many, many threads which need to be tied off. One of which is Miss Colour Jansen of Maine, Northern Federation, who Aurie made off with in Regent and we see now and again in Ice Inundation Intelligence. I threw some words at the wall between Christmas and New Years to give her closure, and that’s what we’ll see this week.

After that, I really need to find out what the hell happened in Broken Child, a story in Imperial Entanglements. I’ve seen resentment about Aurie being Fussy’s successor, and I’ve a few other things buzzing in the back of my mind, as well.

My objective is to have all the shorts done by Ash Wednesday. As I’m sure my copyeditor is giving up booze for Lent, he can bill me after Easter. That leaves me the task of one more novel, to be written, edited, cover, published, by June, just in time for Ximaginarium. I can do that.

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Regent

Now loose in the wild.

“With Canada now on the Ohio River, the imperium needs allies.

Aurelia, the 25-year-old niece of the Empress, leads an army through the deserted ruins of the northeast US to establish contact with the Northern Federation.

An illegal side trip has her talk politics with the Archbishop of Montreal followed by a jaunt to see the tiny spaceport of Canso, Nova Scotia. There, she falls in love with a rocketry tech before being forced to defend it and him against thirty pirates, who she kills with rifle, pistol, knife, hands, teeth.

With the Empress called first to Japan and later to Mars, Aurelia hurries home to act as Regent in her place. But that leaves her lover arrested and the imperium teetering on the brink of a war it cannot afford.”

Paperback. Kindle.

Smashwords ebooks to follow once I get my blood pressure down for using their shit interface.

Deus vult!

Colour’s Nephew, Again

Sometimes I reference other books. Sometimes, such as here, I call back to what I wrote a few chapters before. Sometimes it is completely off-the-wall; I mean, seriously: did NO ONE get the “Broadsword to Danny Boy” reference? I worry about y’all sometimes.

This segment accomplishes two things: we now have the beginnings of a diplomatic buffer between the imperium and Canada. They are small but I do not think either power wants to rile up the Northern Federation. Second, Robert puts Jimmy on notice: just what the effing hell do you think you are to Aurie now? What will you be in a month? A year? We know from waaaay back at the start of this story that Aurie’s had a couple of guys prior. No matter what she may think of Jimmy at this moment, he needs to step up.

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Colour’s Plea

Something a recapitulation of the last few installments but once this is book, I want those scenes clear in the reader’s minds as I’m going to gloss nearly their entire 600-mile ride and go immediately into imperium politics, internal, external, familial. There will suddenly be a lot of names thrown at the screen. In the book you will be able to flip to the front to the family tree and go, “oh, that’s who this is.” Not really bothering with that here.

Colour’s letter is in blockquotes but formatting WordPress is not worth the bother.

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Cross Colour

I’ve had some readers express surprise how, to use my word, fatalistic, the demis and machines seem to be. Perhaps “accepting” is a les pejorative word? I hold it is a factor of how much faster they think than humans do. They can make up then change their minds while we’re still forming our thoughts. So, Aurie goes from “go home!” to “come along” in a blink. It can look like poor writing but is in fact me trying to convey non-human thinking.

The general will have a mound of paperwork to prepare her army before the morning and her meeting with her legates. Then there’s the ride: 600 miles in five days (it should be longer but I’ve seen that part). Even for a good rider, that is very aggressive; pony express aggressive. May have to take a day to look into the logistics of this.

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Family Colour

Where Miss Jansen once again brushes up against the determination of the imperium to protect itself. In “A Texas Naval Affair,” I have Ryland Rigo tell her boyfriend about the empress, “never challenge her specialness. It won’t end well.” That seems true for Aurie, as well.

A quick march back and the army is ordered to move out at first light.

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Horsing Around with Colour

One hundred miles on horseback is a hard ride. I don’t recall the miles but my time record is about four hours. And that was back when I was young and fit. Colour, at fifty-two, must be made of sterner stuff.

Another relatively quiet installment as we transition away from NorFed politics to legionary life. I’m playing with ideas and making notes as to what happens their morning-after-next.

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