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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Taking Colour

Vet appt for new puppy, Yuki, this morning. All seems well but he’s a little tired and cranky from a couple of shots. Then I had to repair one of our toilets; normally not a big deal but my left hand is not very functional right now (switd?) due to a ganglion cyst, so I nearly threw my back out contorting myself.

I now think I can turn this into a novel. That means one thing which implies another: a 50,000-word count minimum (currently just over 12k) and I cannot just jettison the reason I started this; that is, Colour. There is precedent in my other works where a demi basically tells a human, “follow me,” and expects it to be done. And here it is again. I have a suspicion this mature lady is about to have her world turned upside down.

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Colourful Sunrise

Busy weekend. Nearly three hours at DayJob (Saturdays are usually only two) followed by putting the shelve together. After Mass and paying bills on Sunday, I had to haul said shelf and copies of my books to the mall… where they are having a car show. And thus no place to park. I cheat and use my wife’s cripple tag which also makes me have to walk less. Consult with the store owner about where to set up, put out books, decide that sucks, re-arrange books, re-consult with owner, and leave. I still had more to do about the house – putting the toilet overhaul off until Tuesday – so no time to write. As I anticipated that I did not feel guilty. But after nothing over the last two days, today’s installment is a little longer.

More politics. It looks like Aurie is winning and it also looks like she nearly blew it by going too far, too fast. Except for the Canadians, who have played nice with them for nearly three generations of the Change, the good folks of the Northern Federation are a socially conservative, quiet lot. Very wary of change.

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Exit Nephew of Colour

I thought of posting this as an 1100-word bloc, but it breaks nicely with the two women seeing Filk Jansen off before they take a stroll in the wood. That will be the last segment before Aurie is back to the Governing Council for a little hardball.

It’s interesting that when Aurie taunts humans it’s primarily out of fun. Faustina did it because, as one of her relatives later said, “being a jerk is who she is.”

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Colour of Morning

Apologies for yesterday. I try to stay about 1500 word ahead on these but I do not know if I was exhausted or just had some summer cold. Fortunately off from DayJob, I slept most of the day. I made a steak dinner but was too tired to eat and even didn’t drink any alcohol. Yeah: anyone who knows the slightest bit about me should re-read that: I turned down steak and alcohol.

Back to DayJob for just a little today as I also had to make a doctor’s visit about this ganglion cyst on the underside of my left wrist. Been putting up with it for two months but it started to hurt all the time. Looks like minor surgery in mid-September to excise it.

More importantly, it seems Aurie gets both playful and frisky in the early mornings. Can you imaging her doing this with a legion of 5200 men? Or her current army, four times that size? I bet all those men are in love with her and scared to death of her. Which is a good place to be for General Hartmann.

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Changing Colour

I’m going to try to accelerate this story and turn it into a book. My cover designer and her children in Germany are reduced to sneaking into the woods at night to glean firewood for the coming winter. A so-called first world country. F*cking Progs. If I can turn this into a book that’s another $300 for her and her fam.

With Filk’s arrival, Aurie turns the teasing up to “11.” A little exposition. And then a demonstration of raw power.

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