Tag: writing

Succession (1/5)

Working on my next short for my third collection. Successions and coronations should be as boring as possible. Extravagant, sure, but boring. A non-boring succession is called a civil war or revolution.

As I alluded to in the manuscript of The Fallen – now entitled Martian Wonderland – Empress Fussy is retired. A bit curious as to how that happened, I began to make some notes. Those notes are turning into this story. However, who wants to read “boring”? As an old friend gifted me: ”start killing people and blowing shit up.” Okay, I’m pretty good at that. So, this will start tamely, get some foreshadowing going in the next installment, then the blood will start raining. Works for me.

The fundamental tension shall be two-fold: Faustina built her imperium upon military force and the conquest of first the Deep South and later the northeast up to the Northern Federation. Being demi-human, her rule is hands-off (subsidiarity) yet personal. Handing her legal and extra-legal powers to another woman – another older woman in the eyes of many humans – is a provocation. You can read in Ice Inundation Intelligence where Robert talks about factions inside the imperium who want a return to a republic and chafe at being under a family sprinkled with “more human than human.” The succession is when it comes out into the open.

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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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“The Fallen” 5/8

From where I started in the summer, this story continues to surprise me. I’d planned an intergeneration novel about the colonization of Mars, followed by some catastrophe where one or some of the demi-humans went feral. Obviously, they had other ideas.

This segment was what I was shown Sunday morning, and it, too, came out of left field at me. I thought I would have some scientific convos with Kira and politics with Fussy. I never envisioned Allie leaving her home world, but here we are.

May have to do a little research for what comes next. Writing “hard” science fiction, I cannot ignore Allie’s bones and muscles being weaker from growing up in a shallower gravity well. Heck, I’m not even sure where she lands: a demi of the Hartmann family in a Jap spaceship bearing news of aliens under Rus territory. It’s a mess.

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“The Fallen” 4/22

A special Halloween post. This catches me up to where I’m currently writing but am still struggling with a few ideas. I always liked Halloween as a kid; the costumes more than the candy (which I suppose is why I still cosplay into my dotage) and the unofficial transition to winter. I prefer things cooler to warmer. That will undoubtedly be one of the flash points when my wife (who likes things warmer) and I move for the last time.

I have a suspicion that the next few scenes are going to be a bit odd as I work my way through this predicament Allie is in. It is thus very likely that the final form of what will be this “chapter” shall be quite different once I get this finished and edited. But, that’s why I do this: play with ideas, elicit input, and force myself on.

Yes, another reference to LotR; I cannot help myself.

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“The Fallen” 4/15

Another interlude back on the surface, seeing how the rescue effort is developing. And, boy, is it. Even so, there’s much careful planning for phase two, the drone. Recall at this moment Kira has no idea how deep the hole is or how does it end. As she says, she is assuming the best for Allie and Zhukov and planning accordingly. I have Kira reflect a little on the political changes to Earth and Mars over the last thirty years.

The play on words of “A-Hole,” A for Alicia Alvarez, came to me before Mass yesterday, so I’m assuming the pun is divinely inspired.

Because there is a lot for me to learn in this second interlude, I may be back to a MWF posting this week. Apologies.

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“The Fallen” 4/1

No, this will not be a recap of “Alice in Wonderland.” In fact, it is proving to be rather difficult: most of my stories are driven by character interaction. Once I focus in on Alicia Alvarez, alone, then there is much more exposition than I am used to.

That’s fine, I suppose. I often try to do something “different” when writing. That’s usually changing genres but in this case, I guess it will be my task to learn to write with only a single character.

Unless she meets something.

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“The Fallen” 3/5

A bit of a physical transition from Neo-Yokohama to Ekaterinberg. And yes, Alicia’s reaction as the pass over the marshes is what we writers call a “tell.”

The Russian functionary makes two mistakes in a row, which I find a bit surprising for a politician at that level and on another world. When I wrote what comes out in segment six, I now think it was a ruse to get Anton wondering how competent these people are. Looking further ahead, I was surprised to find someone I’d not expected to see on Mars. That will be for later.

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“The Fallen” 2/6

Well! Two reveals. One, we get back to what Fussy and Ed found in “Ice Inundation Intelligence,” and two, that Les and Min do, in fact, love one another. I’m guessing they would use the more precise term of agape. I do not even know if Min’s Model 12 body is kitted out for sexual intercourse. Guess we’ll have to find out. In a non-prurient way, of course.

Since they brought up the Device, I wonder how, if at all, it plays into the image of that feral girl by a stream? Many, many futures here and I am increasingly confused. Writing, in a sense, is like Schrodinger’s Cat: by typing the words, you collapse the wave equation from all the myriad ways, to one.

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