[writing] SUNSPIN takes shape, more, plus some novella WIP
Today I finished the first draft of the Sunspin novella I mentioned recently. It now has a title, “The Weight of History, the Lightness of the Future”. Draft came in at 23,100 words, just shy of the 24,000 I’d set as a target.
As I mentioned previously, this is in effect a prolog or chapter zero to the novels. I still don’t expect to actually include this in the manuscript of Calamity of So Long A Life, the first of the Sunspin trilogy, but it sure helped me set some direction. Among other things, I uncovered several more key worldbuilding issues and a couple of important aspects of the trilogy’s MacGuffins.
Interestingly, all my other Sunspin shorts seem to have tied into “The Weight of History, the Lightness of the Future”. Which is something I had not anticipated when I wrote them. Proving once again that Fred is much smarter than I am.
All of which leads me to reflect that my increasingly common practice of writing discovery fiction set in my novelistic universes is really paying off for me. Plus it’s fun!
Upcoming projects (as in, starting tomorrow, most likely) include revisions to “The Stars Do Not Lie”, the steampunk lost colony religious novella I wrote last spring; followed by revisions to “A Long Walk Home”, the Sunspin novelette I recently wrote; followed by revisions to “The Weight of History, the Lightness of the Future”; then a solid shot at finalizing the Sunspin outline so I can get started on Calamity of So Long A Life sometime in January.
And yes, because I care, just for y’all, here’s a bit of a WIP:
Her strategy was utterly obvious. Her tactics, far less so.
Still, her fingers hovered over the fire control interface. Indecision was like agony. The small noises of her starship echoed like cannon in her mind. She remembered cannon fire, on 9-Rossiter during their post-Mistake isolation. She’d even commanded artillery for a short while. The morning mist off the Polomoski River had blended with the acrid smokes of their still too-crude powder, that caused the occasional shell to cook off in the barrel. Horses tied on the picket line screamed their terror at the first of those explosions, and she’d had to send that kid, what was his name–
“Captain!”
It was Shinka. No, the kid wasn’t named Shinka. He’d died, more horribly than usual, following her orders.
“Michaela.”
Cannon blinked. She was aboard Sword and Arm. Not at the Battle of Bodny Bridge.
“Where were you?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Eight and a half centuries out of time,” Cannon muttered. “We’d better–”
Her words were snatched from her mouth by an air shock that pressed through Sword and Arm‘s interior cubage like a fist down a throat. Cannon felt her ears bleeding.
She whirled to see the damage control boards lighting up. Third Rectification had scored a hit on the Alcubierre drive, apparently with a ballistic package. The delivery method was obvious enough. Low albedo, tight-beamed comms control, so running dark and fast. Maybe even boosted by a quick snap of the mining lasers covered over by the bigger starship’s lurch into motion.
“Returning fire, ma’am?” Shinka asked urgently, though her voice was like someone talking at the bottom of a pan.
“No!” Cannon shouted, trying to hear herself. “That’s our only ride home, now.”
Tags: Books, Calamity, Process, stories, Sunspin, wip, Writing
Posted: 1:48 pm Sat December 18 2010 | Comments(4) |
[process] Writing is hard, let’s go shopping
So I’ve been working on an as-yet-untitled novella in the Sunspin continuity. As a practical matter, in terms of story action it’s the prequel to the opening of the novel cycle. Though I don’t anticipate including this wordage in the novel manuscript, I reserve the right to change my mind later on. Necessary off-stage action, as well as plot character development, comprising a story in its own right.
But the is science fiction. With, you know, actual science in the story. Or at least as much sciency-stuff as a middle aged liberal arts fart like me can swing. For example, I’ve had to read up on neutrino effects (and the lack thereof) on ordinary baryonic matter. As I write, I keep needing to stop and spot-check issues which are too important to just [handwave inside a bracket for a fix on revision]. Not to mention referencing back to dozens of pages of continuity notes from the existing short fiction in this setting, as well as the unfinished novel outline.
It’s not that the writing on this project is harder than so much else of what I do. It’s just I need to work more to get some things right. By contrast, I recently drafted Kalimpura, where as a third book in series I know the cosmology, the local area of the world, the physical and societal settings and the characters very well. As a result, the prose tended to flow very quickly. I didn’t have to think those elements through as I went along. And the demands of verisimilitude are different in fantasy than they are in science fiction.
This prose, she is not flowing so quickly. calendula_witch assures me it is reading well. But, yeah, not just a gear shift here. More like a transmission swap.
God, I love this stuff.
And, what, you want a WIP?
Read the rest of this entry »
Tags: Calendula, Kalimpura, Process, stories, Sunspin, wip, Writing
Posted: 4:49 pm Wed December 15 2010 | Comments(1) |
[writing] I love it when a story comes together
Just finished the first draft of a Sunspin story entitled “Permanent Fatal Errors”, at 5,600 words. This one was a little harder than usual for me, though I wouldn’t describe myself as blocked, exactly. Started it last week, got hung up on the 500-word stub I’d begun with, so I went and did other writerly things, then life got in the way for a couple of days. But now it’s done, with about 2,100 new words today to wrap the draft.
A fun thing happened in “Permanent Fatal Errors”, one of those nuggets of craft candy which makes writers so very happy. Early on, I’d put in a nearly throwaway bit of characterization regarding my protagonist. About 2/3 of the way through the story, the throwaway bit came back as important in a plot point. Then it turned out to be critical to the ending.
That sense of, “Oh, hey, I knew what I was doing all along, how about that?” is real spiffy writer cookie. I don’t get it in every story, but when I do, it’s fun. Kind of a buzz. And it renews my generally strong faith in Fred, my subconscious writing mind that makes most of the decisions and does almost all of the heavy lifting.
Since we’re talking about a new draft, some WIP:
“That’s it,” said Paimei. Her fingers closed on his shoulder. “You’re out the airlock, buddy.”
“No,” said Chillicothe. “Leave him alone.”
Another rumble from Patrice, of agreement. Maduabuchi, in sudden, sweaty fear for his life, couldn’t tell who the man was agreeing with.
The flechette pistol was back against his ear. “Why?”
“Because we like him. Because he’s one of ours.” Her voice grew very soft. “Because I said so.”
Reluctantly, Paimei let him go. Maduabuchi got to his feet, shaking. He wanted to know, damn it, his curiosity burning with a fire he couldn’t ever recall feeling in his nearly two centuries of life.
Tags: Process, stories, wip, Writing
Posted: 12:49 pm Sat October 10 2009 | Comments(0) |
[writing] Sekrit projekt progress
For reasons already discussed, very busy today, so I only put an hour into the sekrit projekt. Still, here’s some wip…
After Pai-mei had departed, Forbes belted on an old brocade robe and went in search of a highball. The woman was positively dangerous in her allure. The place smelled like her for hours after.
He was content with that.
The tiny kitchen contained no food to speak of, only bar supplies such as lemons and cherries. Forbes would have to find something to eat on the way home — oh, goodness was he tired of Chinese food. Why this country couldn’t manage a decent steakhouse was beyond him. Americans around every corner for the past thirty years, and still it was eggplant pizza and dubious fried foods.
Though he tried not to dwell on such things, Forbes had to admit that he felt guilty for having made love with his informant. Not guilty enough to quit, admittedly, but guilty enough to wish he could be a little smarter about it. She was so damned hard to turn down. A man had to be made of sterner flesh than his to resist that sparkling smile, those pneumatic breasts and that taut belly.
Tags: Rockfeller, wip, Writing
Posted: 4:43 pm Thu September 17 2009 | Comments(0) |
[writing] The Sekrit Projekt progresses
An hour and three quarters (roughly) on the Sekrit Projeckt today. Progressing apace.
WIP…
He could hardly contain his excitement as he waited for Pai-mei in his small compound on an alley off Jen Ai Road. The place appeared nondescript from the outside, surrounded by a gray brick wall topped with shards of shattered glass to discourage acrobatic thieves. The roof was kept in a careful state of disrepair as well, to reduce the attention he might draw from criminals or taxmen.
Within was another matter entirely. The place was most pleasantly luxurious, a combination of the best of American technology and Chinese ingenuity. He’d even managed some Persian rugs, and the humidor in the parlor was almost always stocked with Cuban cigars brought over from Hong Kong. Real Cuban, not “Cuban” fakes from Guangzhou.
The contrast between appearance and reality was fine with him. Precisely according to plan, in fact. It kept curious neighbors away and gave him a safe, comfortable place to work.
Tags: wip, Writing
Posted: 5:19 pm Tue September 15 2009 | Comments(2) |
[writing] Progress on the sekrit projekt
One and a half hours on the Sekrit Projekt today, plus time spent on other writing related program activities. Tomorrow is Fireside Writers’, which means I’ll get some more time plugged in. Wednesday, arrives, and Thursday, arrives, so after tomorrow my writing time will become less stable for a while. But for all the best reasons!
Meanwhile, a bit more wip…
Decision makers who’d never worked in the field had a way of assuming you were just lazy or cutting corners if you couldn’t lay it out neat, tidy and tight. If anything, the opposite was true. Any analyst or political officer who could tie off a diplomatic situation with square corners and no missing pieces was either lying or skimming.
“Neither a liar nor a skimmer be,” he muttered under his breath.
How did a man make sense of this mess here? There wasn’t even a war on, and it was still confusing. E.E.’s experience of wartime Biafra had done nothing to reassure him about the value of recognizing your enemy by his uniform. The most such things told you was who was trying to kill you in that moment, not why. Or what they might be doing an hour later. Besides no one was getting killed here. Just good old-fashioned mumblety-peg with machetes – politics, Southeast Asian style.
The questions marched down his tablet in stark rows, like Napoleonic armies arrayed on Flanders fields.
Tags: Calendula, Process, wip, Writing
Posted: 7:04 pm Mon September 14 2009 | Comments(0) |
[writing] Onward and onward I go
Once I got a fairly horrendous amount of house cleaning done, I put a little over two hours on the Sekrit Projekt today. It’s a combination of editing, redrafting and new wordage, so word count isn’t really to the point. However, here’s a little WIP…
The Marine guard on duty nodded to E.E., though whether he recognized E.E. personally, or just the dark suit and hurried pace of a bureaucrat late for a meeting, was debatable.
In either case, E.E. was buzzed on into the secure area without any particular effort at formality. That suited him just fine, personally, though if he had been the chief of mission, he’d have been all over the Admin officer about sloppy procedures.
Better for thee than for me, he thought, smiling at recognition of the mild twinge of hypocrisy.
Up the stairs to the second floor, down the hall, walk like you mean it. He’d learned that lesson years ago from his father – never act as if you’re waiting for permission. It was a corollary of the old principle that a man with a clipboard can go anywhere. E.E. was reporting in to his new boss Martin Ennis, chief of the political section, whom he’d never actually met, and wasn’t too thrilled about the rumors that had reached his ears so far.
Tags: Personal, Rockefeller, wip, Writing
Posted: 4:41 pm Sun September 13 2009 | Comments(1) |
[writing] And we have a short story
For now, at least. I fear the rewrite. At any rate, “Torquing Vacuum” came in at 5,800 words in first draft.
A bit of wip:
Well away from the locks-and-docks sector, he finally let go of Austen. Kid would be bruised for sure. “Alright then,” Spanich said. “You’re on your own.”
“Wh-what?” Austen seemed dazed.
“Snap out of it, kid. You’re free.” Spanich swatted him on the ass. “Now time to scoot.”
“But I don’t know where to go.”
“Sure you do. You been living on Estacada Orbital for months.” Platinum-coated genetics or not, the kid had survived on his own. Hustling wasn’t the worst way to get by.
Tags: Process, stories, wip, Writing
Posted: 7:05 pm Thu September 10 2009 | Comments(0) |
[writing] Another 1,200 words
“Torquing Vacuum” progresses slowly. Sometimes that means a story will be good. Heh.
WIP:
“What are you doing, Engineering Tech Spanich?”
The words slipped out of him like bullets dropping from an open clip. “Preparing to die like a man.” Truly, he had no idea.
“Mother,” Austen said, his voice so low it was almost a squeak.
She gave Olivez Marquessa Inanometriano Parkinson sub-Ngome another significant look. Spanich took his cue and swung the toolbag hard, letting the strap pay out so fifteen kilos of metal and ballistic cloth took the bastard right in the temple. Two-dozen generations of exquisite germline engineering dropped to the floor like a stunned drunk.
“Guess you’ll have to kill me yourself, Duchess,” Spanich said, breathing hard. Austen was splayed flat on deck, hiccuping or laughing or crying or something. “Or is it Princess?”
“Is this how a man dies?” she asked, deceptively conversational.
“Yes.” Spanich tried to catch up to his adrenaline, slow himself down. “Oh his feet, fighting for his life.”
Tags: Process, stories, wip, Writing
Posted: 7:47 pm Wed September 09 2009 | Comments(0) |
[writing] Some more wordage
Almost 2,000 more words on “Torquing Vacuum”. I’m afraid it might turn into a novelette. Oh well.
Meanwhile, WIP:
When the water hit them at 0.5 celsius, Austen sputtered into some fairly creative profanity. “You gruyere-scented douchenozzle, I’m going to kick your ass from the throat down, then yank your nuts—”
Spanich slapped him. “Hush up, dearie,” he growled, dragging Austen’s face so close they might have been kissing again. Somehow, being naked and wet with the kid wasn’t doing much for him this morning. “You know how many times in all my years that flash brass has rung my bell?”
Austen found his voice. “Th-they put their jocks on one strap at a time like everybody else.”
“Maybe. And maybe they have platinum-plated jeweled nut sacks snapped on every morning by hermaphroditic dwarves. How the fuck would I know? Because never in my entire pressure-bleeding life have I had to take a call like that one.” He shook the kid hard, banging that pretty head against the scrubstall’s algaplastic lining. “And I’d bet my last gene scan you have something to do with it. You and your Mayor Eye-breye-um.”
“Mare Ibrium.” This time he got it right.
“That’s Mare Ibrium, thirteen pairs, to you, my friend. Shipminds are damned proud, and have very long arms indeed when they’re riled up.” Even talking about it here in the scrubstall made him nervous.
Tags: Process, stories, wip, Writing
Posted: 7:51 pm Tue September 08 2009 | Comments(0) |
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