Drinks and Drama

Everyone that looks at Nichole, “…a seeming poster girl for Irish Tourism!…” is often taken aback by the fact that, one, of course, she’s a three year old machine, and two, was coded and raised in Japan.  Orientals and Asians are not self-loathing as Whites have been taught to be over the past 4-5 generations.  Some things obvious to her are total heresy to those about her.

Dialog!  At last!  Lots and lots of dialog!  And while everyone is talking, I set forces in motion that cannot be slowed or stopped.  We’ve Teresa firmly in the picture, a glimpse of Mackenzie; I just need Nichole’s love, Gil, back in.  Once I’ve everyone in hand, it’s ‘that famous final scene.’

Continue reading “Drinks and Drama”

Grrlpower

Getting some of my main characters back together, even if only for a little while.  I need things in one direxion to be political and in the other, personal.  I wish it would be Mackenzie that somehow get’s ahold of Gil, who deserts and rides back to PSU once Nichole is finished with her talk with the Mayor, but Mac and Gil have no radios…

Or.  Did he just recently give her something that he and the other’s at Ludlum Electric put together?  Not so much a radio as a ‘panic button’?  Hmmm.  I’ll ponder that one.  I admit, it’s kinda lame, but it get’s Gil to Mac moments before Nichole comes busting in with her Iliad of Woes from the North.  N5 has talked the Mayor into trying to talk his way out of this… but what if Rhun and his people refuse to listen?

Continue reading “Grrlpower”

Going South

Nichole finds Joe.  Most importantly, that allows me to resume dialog between characters, rather than merely giving exposition as to what Nichole is up to.  I hate that; my stories live and die based upon interaction.

So.  Nichole finds Joe.  Tells everyone “rocks are falling!  y’all gonna die!” is not much of a transition, but there it is.  At least they’re talking again, minus Joe’s accidental head-butt into N5’s plug.  Yeah:  talk your way out of that one, kid.

Continue reading “Going South”

“There’s a Geoff Tate on the line…?”

I thought everything was going to Hell.  No, let me try again:  I remain convinced that everything is going to Hell.  It’s just that somehow – again! – Nichole started talking and is trying to save everyone and everything… including me.  It’s a good speech of hers, and almost convincing… but as the author, I’ve the SMOD Card in my hand, and I’ll be playing it either 1) once this clown-show is coiling back along itself toward Portland; or 2) In the next sentence I write where another rider comes in with preliminary non-com casualty figures… including Rhun’s children…

Continue reading ““There’s a Geoff Tate on the line…?””

Gotta love them lampshades!

A good weekend:  no one died, in the story or in RealLife, and I was able to lay down 4k words.  Wish my tanjed DayJob boss would get her shit straight with Madam Clio and find another job!  Not one of any of the other pharmacists I work with have issues such as hers; “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”  We’d one dog from southern Indiana; a Westie, so pre-crazy.  Everyone else I’ve known from Indiana seems deranged, just like her.

Anyway.  Show’s over and the Nation is on the move!  A few, short, snapshots to get them over the pass and into the Centralia Valley.  I did get a little sidetracked – still working on it, in fact, but the lead combat force of the horsemen, basically 17,500 dragoons with 2,500 responsible for light to medium artillery, are bearing down on Napaville as we speak.  I allow Rhun a tell about how he plans to run the op against the cannibals, as well as letting you, the pre-readers, know how the turnabout against the City’s Regulars will happen, too.

Those of you that are of the faith, pray for me that I can keep this up all week; I know I cannot do this alone.  Deus Volt!

Continue reading “Gotta love them lampshades!”

Threshold

Putting aside our visual novel, OTChi Kocchi, it was NaNoWriMo that taught me to be a novelist.  I am utterly wedded to the idea of irrational deadlines; were I not, nothing would ever get finished.  This entry of Nichole5’s second book would put me just over the 50k limit demanded by NNRM, were I playing along.

That’s all well and good, but I need the Nation across the Cascades, beating the cannibals, betrayed by the Special Police, and burning Portland.  In two weeks.  Dang.  The best I can hope for is either a mild heart attack that sidelines me from my DayJob, or a meteor hits the place, with the same affect.

Continue reading “Threshold”