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!

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“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!

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Pirate Twins, coda

This not the short I originally saw.  After last night’s tragic news, I wanted to a little more about the West’s current attempt at suicide.  But, there’s still hope.  Hope, much like Evil, can often be found in the most unlikely places.

Thanks, everyone, for reading this story.  I think I’ll try to make ‘Defiant’ into a proper novel, but I’m taking the rest of this weekend off.

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Pirate Twins 11

I’m beginning to think I should turn this into a sub-folder before it takes over this blog.  I’ve never done a flash-fiction series in this weblog before, and am not entire clear on the visual dynamics of how to effectively present it.  Suggestions welcome.

As I mentioned on Gab.ai, I’d paused this right before Europa came out mad.  I’d not seen that.  My family and I went to the Saturday 1700 Mass. The OT reading, from Jerimiah, was about J telling God, “You duped me!”  Sitting there in the pew, I started grinning like more of an idiot as the rest of #11 opened in my mind.

There are no such things as coincidences.

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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.

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