Between the cheap wine, caffeine tabs, and lisinopril, I’m keeping at it every night this week. As I was finishing this up, I was, thank God, allowed to see that a brigade of the Nation is already closing on the flimsy position the City has north of the bridge. This will allow me to avoid any prolonged battle and instead precipitate the domino-like collapse of first Portland’s armed defense followed by its civil collapse.
In the mean time, let’s wrap things up with the Mayor.
Continue reading “Trifecta”
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”
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”
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”
Between men and women are bad enough. Alliances? Blood, everywhere. I’ve written a bit more, but will try to add to it and post it, tomorrow. Must make an end…
Continue reading “Break Up”
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…?””
In an absurd burst of enthusiasm, I thought I could finish the manuscript this weekend. My new doctor certainly wants me to: “you’re drinking too much; your liver numbers are shot to hell.” Great. I told her I’ll cut back in a week or so, once finished.
It has been a difficult transitional period in the story. I did NOT want to write yet another battle, swirling about Nichole, but was uncertain how to write around it. Last night, after watching a few old music videos, I saw the part of Nichole and Armando having a quiet moment – not a war moment – in the back of the MRAP. That let’s me tell the story to the point where things fall to shit and she get’s out of there, on a mad dash south, where she’ll encounter Major Muller & his 2nd Detachment of Cavalry as well as Friend Joe, serving in Militia A, holding the supply line between Portland and Longview.
After that? Into the City with the Nation on their heels. Rocks fall; everyone dies. I’m so happy to be writing this…
Continue reading “Rejects”