Good afternoon from the East Coast of the USA. Pretty quiet here, it seems. Not much feedback all around, so let's see if we can't change that.
Work hasn't progressed much after I hacked some stuff I wrote years ago together with a fair amount of recent work and some stuff I wrote off the top of my head. Got a circa 20,000-word chapter done (at the cost of a few days of very little sleep, a few days' recovery, and feeling like crap for a week), most of another one done (see above), and have begun writing down (yes, with pen and paper -- and an obsessive amount of fountain pens at that) later scenes. Hopefully I'll have more to report soon.
Other than that I've been dealing with a slightly-dislocated hip for the last few months that finally started to go back into place with a series of "amusing" pops that tend to stop me in my tracks but are so relieving when they're done that I don't mind. Nothing too major there, though, as it has been an entire financial quarter I've been dealing with it and mostly ignoring it. I can't, however, say the same thing about the the weather. That's been screwy. Like cartoon-level screwy. Keeping in mind those of us in the USA are still using the Imperial system of measurement (and I don't intend to start an argument over the superiority of a base-10 system versus a base-12), I want to relate a few numbers. 20 inches of snow in 5 hours -- on a day we were predicted for 1-3 inches. -40 degrees the next night, -27 the night after that, and the intervening day got up to a balmy -7! But that's not all, because a few days later we got rain and the temperature never got over 30 -- in other words, freezing rain. Half an inch on top of two feet of snow. Hilarity abounds.
Currently I have no water because my pipes -- which survived the -40 without freezing other than the showers and toilets -- couldn't take a surprise -9 a couple nights ago. It was working at 3:30AM, but by 8AM and a good 20 degrees increase in temperature, it had frozen everywhere. I have hopes for a thaw tomorrow because it's been ~40 degrees today, only supposed to go down to 30 tonight, and be at least 40 tomorrow while it rains. Dealing with all of this has a pretty solid impact on productivity for the obvious reasons. For those of you in milder climates, let me tell you that melting snow and icicles to get water to give my animals and to use for cooking takes forever, especially when you have to boil it. I could go to a local artesian well to get a few gallons of water all at once, but all my gallon jugs are pretty leaky by now and my "big blue jug" for camping is missing parts after years of hard use during situations like this and leaks like mad. Really need to replace it, but can't really afford it right now, what with having to buy other things like food. Luckily I still have electricity, but I've been doing a lot of my cooking (and all of my ice-melting) on a pressurized kerosene stove. It's a lot faster than the 1500-watt induction burner/hob I've been using (my range died years ago and I don't have the $10,000 I need to rewire this place so I can replace it, and the cost to put in 1propane/lpg seemed excessive when the plan's been to replace this whole building for a few years now), and I like that I can use all of my old pots and pans on it, unlike the induction burner/hob. It also doesn't trip any of my breakers if I forget to turn off one of my electric room heaters.
Anyway, just wanted to give you an update. I am still working, I am surviving, and I'm in pretty good health at the moment. Let's hope all of the above continue for the foreseeable future! Thanks for reading and, as always, looking forward to hearing from you!
Friday, February 19, 2016
Saturday, February 6, 2016
The Tick has Tocked
Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to get right to it because I'm not feeling that great tonight and I'm hoping to get to sleep before 4AM.
Well, I can see by the lack of comments on the last post that there isn't enough interest in my next piece to warrant posting an excerpt of any size at present, so I'm not going to post one for now. I really wanted to get another post up saying basically what I'm going to say below, but I also wanted to wait for the responses. I thought I'd get the requisite number in a matter of days. Instead I waited two weeks and only got two. I apologize for those disappointed by my decision, but since the set conditions weren't met, I don't feel like it's worth the effort. Maybe there will be more interest at some point in the near future and the wait won't be too long. Guess we'll see.
Having said that, I've been making some real progress on the project I'm working on. As soon as I'm done with that I'll take a short break to recover and then I'll be back on track with other projects, including the one I'm sure the vast majority of those reading this are interested in. Unfortunately, as I've said in the past, I can only write what my brain will create at the time. Right now I have some great creative energy, but only for what my brain is willing to put it toward. If I try to force it elsewhere, the whole system breaks down, and I wind up frustrated and blocked.
Nobody wants that.
So, on that note, I'm going to go and try to get back to work. Thanks for reading!
Well, I can see by the lack of comments on the last post that there isn't enough interest in my next piece to warrant posting an excerpt of any size at present, so I'm not going to post one for now. I really wanted to get another post up saying basically what I'm going to say below, but I also wanted to wait for the responses. I thought I'd get the requisite number in a matter of days. Instead I waited two weeks and only got two. I apologize for those disappointed by my decision, but since the set conditions weren't met, I don't feel like it's worth the effort. Maybe there will be more interest at some point in the near future and the wait won't be too long. Guess we'll see.
Having said that, I've been making some real progress on the project I'm working on. As soon as I'm done with that I'll take a short break to recover and then I'll be back on track with other projects, including the one I'm sure the vast majority of those reading this are interested in. Unfortunately, as I've said in the past, I can only write what my brain will create at the time. Right now I have some great creative energy, but only for what my brain is willing to put it toward. If I try to force it elsewhere, the whole system breaks down, and I wind up frustrated and blocked.
Nobody wants that.
So, on that note, I'm going to go and try to get back to work. Thanks for reading!
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Pardon My Reach...
Mellow greetings, gentle (or not so gentle, depending on your inclinations) reader!
Wait. Sorry. If I'm going to start with the word "gentle", I should probably avoid finishing with an exclamation point. I guess if that's the only error tonight then I'm doing well.
Alright, greetings; mellow or otherwise. With the new year comes a new start and, hopefully, more feedback from yours truly and to yours truly. To translate that, I'm going to try to post more, share more, and I want to hear from you, the reader.
I apologize (which I do a lot, apparently) to anyone who feels like I ignored them and their offers to proofread for me. It wasn't personal. I wasn't really asking for help, just explaining my problem as I saw it at the time. You see, I spent most of last year really depressed (my knee re-injury, physical therapy, problems in my personal life, money issues, etc.), trying to cope with various and sundry, and the only thing I found that helped was spending as much time as possible out-of-doors, dangling sharpened bits of bent wire in water, trying to entice the local wildlife to mildly injure their mouths and have an out-of-water experience. I went places I'd never been before, saw some incredibly beautiful vistas, and spent a lot of time soaking up sunlight. All-in-all, it was very relaxing and, three months after having to give it up for the winter, I'm missing it every day.
Still, it was therapeutic no end, and I face the blank page with a renewed vigor I haven't felt in a long time. I've done some work of higher quality than I've managed in a while, and reviewed several projects I'd started and given up on due to my feelings about their quality. Interestingly enough, they were all much better re-reading them than I felt when I gave up on them. They may not go anywhere, and at least one of them is probably beyond my abilities at the moment, but I've returned to them and have been finding gold where once I saw only slag.
Progress has been made on the sequels to Triggerbreak and Subject 12. I've been bouncing ideas for another short story to possibly add to Reagent Protocol, and I've done some work on an eventual followup to The Grand Granger. That one is probably too grand a grasp for me at the moment, as I delve into the politics of the Empire and visit some of the intricacies of the Tal'Red to a depth I've never attempted before. On the other hand, I had some fun, and I love working on the weaponry and other technical details of the technologies involved.
So, here's where the title of this post may begin to make sense. You see, I fully intend to interact more with you this year, barring anything unexpected happening. That means more updates more often, announcements as they become pertinent, and the occasional surprise in the form of more excerpts. Of course, all of this is predicated on the idea that you, the reader, want any and all of the above, so I'm reaching out to you.
To begin this little experiment, if I hear from at least five people in the comments section here, I will share a snippet from the book formerly known as Rogue in a blog post. It will be a few hundred words long, but since it explores a bit of Hammer's past as well as his present, I think you'll like it. It also gives away the setting for a portion of the book that's not going to change before it gets published, but I don't want to talk about it too much before I post it.
Time to wrap up, so I'll leave you to get back to whatever activity you were occupied with before visiting my blog. Thanks for reading and for supporting me through all this, and don't forget to tell all your friends and family about my books if they'd be at all interested!
Wait. Sorry. If I'm going to start with the word "gentle", I should probably avoid finishing with an exclamation point. I guess if that's the only error tonight then I'm doing well.
Alright, greetings; mellow or otherwise. With the new year comes a new start and, hopefully, more feedback from yours truly and to yours truly. To translate that, I'm going to try to post more, share more, and I want to hear from you, the reader.
I apologize (which I do a lot, apparently) to anyone who feels like I ignored them and their offers to proofread for me. It wasn't personal. I wasn't really asking for help, just explaining my problem as I saw it at the time. You see, I spent most of last year really depressed (my knee re-injury, physical therapy, problems in my personal life, money issues, etc.), trying to cope with various and sundry, and the only thing I found that helped was spending as much time as possible out-of-doors, dangling sharpened bits of bent wire in water, trying to entice the local wildlife to mildly injure their mouths and have an out-of-water experience. I went places I'd never been before, saw some incredibly beautiful vistas, and spent a lot of time soaking up sunlight. All-in-all, it was very relaxing and, three months after having to give it up for the winter, I'm missing it every day.
Still, it was therapeutic no end, and I face the blank page with a renewed vigor I haven't felt in a long time. I've done some work of higher quality than I've managed in a while, and reviewed several projects I'd started and given up on due to my feelings about their quality. Interestingly enough, they were all much better re-reading them than I felt when I gave up on them. They may not go anywhere, and at least one of them is probably beyond my abilities at the moment, but I've returned to them and have been finding gold where once I saw only slag.
Progress has been made on the sequels to Triggerbreak and Subject 12. I've been bouncing ideas for another short story to possibly add to Reagent Protocol, and I've done some work on an eventual followup to The Grand Granger. That one is probably too grand a grasp for me at the moment, as I delve into the politics of the Empire and visit some of the intricacies of the Tal'Red to a depth I've never attempted before. On the other hand, I had some fun, and I love working on the weaponry and other technical details of the technologies involved.
So, here's where the title of this post may begin to make sense. You see, I fully intend to interact more with you this year, barring anything unexpected happening. That means more updates more often, announcements as they become pertinent, and the occasional surprise in the form of more excerpts. Of course, all of this is predicated on the idea that you, the reader, want any and all of the above, so I'm reaching out to you.
To begin this little experiment, if I hear from at least five people in the comments section here, I will share a snippet from the book formerly known as Rogue in a blog post. It will be a few hundred words long, but since it explores a bit of Hammer's past as well as his present, I think you'll like it. It also gives away the setting for a portion of the book that's not going to change before it gets published, but I don't want to talk about it too much before I post it.
Time to wrap up, so I'll leave you to get back to whatever activity you were occupied with before visiting my blog. Thanks for reading and for supporting me through all this, and don't forget to tell all your friends and family about my books if they'd be at all interested!
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Still Alive and, Yes. I Have Been Writing.
I'm going to keep this quick because it's late, I'm tired, and I'm going to try to get back to writing here as soon as possible.
Alright, yes, I've been writing. Not much, but some, and the quality has been higher than I was getting before I took the summer off. Much higher. I've actually found voices for characters I'd nearly forgotten how to write entirely, so productivity should be better from here in.
On a side note, for those of you who haven't given up, I've decided that Rogue will only be the working title for the book. While this means I now have to find another title (and titles and names are two things I really struggle with), it also means I can save it for something more appropriate.
And on that note, have a safe and productive day. I'll be offering a sneak peek or two if I feel there's enough interest, so feel free to drop me a line!
Alright, yes, I've been writing. Not much, but some, and the quality has been higher than I was getting before I took the summer off. Much higher. I've actually found voices for characters I'd nearly forgotten how to write entirely, so productivity should be better from here in.
On a side note, for those of you who haven't given up, I've decided that Rogue will only be the working title for the book. While this means I now have to find another title (and titles and names are two things I really struggle with), it also means I can save it for something more appropriate.
And on that note, have a safe and productive day. I'll be offering a sneak peek or two if I feel there's enough interest, so feel free to drop me a line!
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Holiday Update
I'm as sick of writing these as you are of reading them, or would be if I were more rigorous about posting as these things happened.
So, this will be very brief. First off, happy holidays! Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Three Kings Day, St. Lucia Day, Ramadan, Yule, Winter Solstice, Hump Day, Space Movie Day, or whatever you might celebrate. I wish you good and bright tidings for the holiday of your choice and for the new year!
Next up; I'm currently dealing with my second case of bronchitis since September, which ran right on the heels of my second case of pneumonia since November. In fact, I never really recovered from the second bout of pneumonia, it just (ma)lingered, making me cough more and start to wheeze until my sinuses plugged up like a sewer with a fatburg in it and then I was coughing nigh-incessantly. I'm on my second course of antibiotics for the last six weeks and hopefully this will clear things up.
I find it nearly impossible to write when I'm so sick I can't breathe without gasping like a goldfish in a cat's mouth or coughing until I vomit in my mouth, and that's been my state of health for basically the last two months. So, not much progress to report other than I'm breathing much easier today than I was yesterday at the doctor's office.
Have a happy near year and hopefully I'll have more positive things to share come the turn of the calendar. Thanks for your support!
So, this will be very brief. First off, happy holidays! Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Three Kings Day, St. Lucia Day, Ramadan, Yule, Winter Solstice, Hump Day, Space Movie Day, or whatever you might celebrate. I wish you good and bright tidings for the holiday of your choice and for the new year!
Next up; I'm currently dealing with my second case of bronchitis since September, which ran right on the heels of my second case of pneumonia since November. In fact, I never really recovered from the second bout of pneumonia, it just (ma)lingered, making me cough more and start to wheeze until my sinuses plugged up like a sewer with a fatburg in it and then I was coughing nigh-incessantly. I'm on my second course of antibiotics for the last six weeks and hopefully this will clear things up.
I find it nearly impossible to write when I'm so sick I can't breathe without gasping like a goldfish in a cat's mouth or coughing until I vomit in my mouth, and that's been my state of health for basically the last two months. So, not much progress to report other than I'm breathing much easier today than I was yesterday at the doctor's office.
Have a happy near year and hopefully I'll have more positive things to share come the turn of the calendar. Thanks for your support!
Friday, August 21, 2015
Regarding My Knee Injury
Hi, all. Just a quick note regarding my knee -- I've begun physical therapy that will last six weeks to see if I can avoid surgery for what the MRI says is two tears in my meniscus. The pain has subsided, thanks to a few visits to my chiropractor to put my back and hips into place, but the weakness persists. I also have some low-grade neuropathy and some other nerve-related -pathy, but since I'm no longer in constant pain, I'm not that concerned at the moment. I have, after all, injured this knee repeatedly over the last twenty-five years.
Anyway, between the pain and writer's block and everything else that's been going on this summer, I've basically said screw it and gone on what I'm told is called a "staycation". Done a lot of fishing, worked on lowering my stress level, and tried to get my brain back into gear. Now, if only I had a laptop that I could stand to type on for more than a minute at a crack without cramping up or cursing Lenovo for such a shitty keyboard... I might be able to get some work done.
I've been having some good ideas, so hopefully when I knuckle down and get back to work I won't hate what I'm writing so much that I'll actually get something done.
I'll update with regards to my knee and when I can get back to work. Hammer will strike again.
Thanks for reading!
Anyway, between the pain and writer's block and everything else that's been going on this summer, I've basically said screw it and gone on what I'm told is called a "staycation". Done a lot of fishing, worked on lowering my stress level, and tried to get my brain back into gear. Now, if only I had a laptop that I could stand to type on for more than a minute at a crack without cramping up or cursing Lenovo for such a shitty keyboard... I might be able to get some work done.
I've been having some good ideas, so hopefully when I knuckle down and get back to work I won't hate what I'm writing so much that I'll actually get something done.
I'll update with regards to my knee and when I can get back to work. Hammer will strike again.
Thanks for reading!
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Warning, Brief Info Dump Ahead
Brief, not briefs. I am not going to discuss my underwear preferences or lack thereof on the internet... Well, at least not in a blog post. And I'm sure virtually all of you are sighing in relief.
You're welcome.
Okay, already distracted.
So, I went awfully quiet after posting frequently. That's something I should explain because I'm sure someone is wondering what's up.
I've been dealing with what my doctor has diagnosed as an "internal derangement". It's something that's been going on for 17.5 years (literally half my life) since Halloween, 1997. Long story short, I had a night that ended with me pushing my kneecap back into place, and the next day the doctor who "fixed" my knee is no longer legally able to practice medicine in NY.
So what does that have to do with the here and now? Simple. It's become worse. Much worse. As in, I have a hard time standing, walking, or even sitting. In fact, while being examined this past Wednesday afternoon, I became so severely dizzy while laying on my back and bending my knee that I couldn't sit upright after for several seconds. The nerve involvement is that bad. Often while bending my knee I will experience a burning/tearing sensation, and then I wind up feeling like I have a thousand fire ants crawling and biting around my kneecap. Imagining that? Sorry, I know how that must be, but that's what I get. I'm also walking with a cane again, something I haven't had to do with any frequency for years.
Needless to say, it's hard to be creative when you can't sit still for any length of time, etc. I've been transcribing the hand-written rough draft, but it's slow going thanks to the SHITTY keyboard on this laptop (Lenovo Z50-75, I do not recommend this, or any other, Lenovo product) and the pain, etc.
But I have a referral to an orthopedic surgeon, so hopefully I'll be getting my knee fixed within six weeks of my appointment, so that pushes it out to about three months before I can get surgery. Then six more weeks of healing.
Alright, I'm out. Thanks for all your support!
You're welcome.
Okay, already distracted.
So, I went awfully quiet after posting frequently. That's something I should explain because I'm sure someone is wondering what's up.
I've been dealing with what my doctor has diagnosed as an "internal derangement". It's something that's been going on for 17.5 years (literally half my life) since Halloween, 1997. Long story short, I had a night that ended with me pushing my kneecap back into place, and the next day the doctor who "fixed" my knee is no longer legally able to practice medicine in NY.
So what does that have to do with the here and now? Simple. It's become worse. Much worse. As in, I have a hard time standing, walking, or even sitting. In fact, while being examined this past Wednesday afternoon, I became so severely dizzy while laying on my back and bending my knee that I couldn't sit upright after for several seconds. The nerve involvement is that bad. Often while bending my knee I will experience a burning/tearing sensation, and then I wind up feeling like I have a thousand fire ants crawling and biting around my kneecap. Imagining that? Sorry, I know how that must be, but that's what I get. I'm also walking with a cane again, something I haven't had to do with any frequency for years.
Needless to say, it's hard to be creative when you can't sit still for any length of time, etc. I've been transcribing the hand-written rough draft, but it's slow going thanks to the SHITTY keyboard on this laptop (Lenovo Z50-75, I do not recommend this, or any other, Lenovo product) and the pain, etc.
But I have a referral to an orthopedic surgeon, so hopefully I'll be getting my knee fixed within six weeks of my appointment, so that pushes it out to about three months before I can get surgery. Then six more weeks of healing.
Alright, I'm out. Thanks for all your support!
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
There's ALWAYS a Downside.
Apparently a lot of the traffic reaching my site is from Turkey these days. I'm really thinking someone's using a VPN or TOR to look at my site. I'm not sure if I should flattered or afraid. Since the advice I've always received is "Be afraid!", I'm going to go with the latter.
Anyway, for anyone who got the reference in this post's title, way to go! You just won an internet.
No sexism intended, that was just the picture that came up in a Google search.
Ahem. Moving on.
So, to reference my title yet again, there's always a downside when it comes to a writer's choice of writing methods. Mine makes me feel connected to the words, allows me to write virtually anywhere, and gives me near-stream-of-consciousness access to my inspiration/muse/etc. That means my rough drafts are often rough, but in transcribing it to my computer's word processor I get the chance to edit on the fly. So my first draft is significantly better, smoother, and often more inspired.
So... The downside. I'm basically writing things twice. Writing longhand whenever the inspiration strikes me and continuing while the mood is upon me means I end up with a lot of pages needing typing.
A lot.
That's a lot of typing. So much so that it's a little daunting, and I'm only talking about a single chapter. I have a little over twenty-five pages to type up. I realize that some of that will fall by the wayside (I knew it as I was writing it, but I refused to let that stop me from going with the flow.) as I'm editing it, but it's still a lot of work to do. With that in mind, I'd best get back to it.
Thanks for reading!
Friday, April 3, 2015
What's the opposite of an update?
Sorry, but that just occurred to me. And what would constitute said opposite, anyway? Lying in an update? Deflecting every question with noninformation?
Wait, the latter would make me a politician or CEO apologizing for, well, anything.
Okay, it was just a thought. My brain does some odd things at weird times.
So, since this is the opposite of the opposite of an update, that makes this an update and someone might think at this point I'm just stalling.
STALLING! Of course! The opposite of an update is a stall, and not the cow/horse/engine kind. In a sense, it's a shame pigs live in sties/pens, because then the comparison to politicians ends, though it's really not fair to domestic pigs because given a chance they live cleanly and take care of their young.
Well, I feel better.
Okay, update time. Writing continues apace. I'm doing a couple thousand words a day on average, though that's an estimation because I'm not counting what I'm writing longhand. My word processor takes care of the actual word count when I'm typing, so I have a decent metric for said estimation...
Anyway. Let's see how the editing goes once I get everything lined up. I'm seriously not censoring myself when I'm writing because rough drafts are like that, but once I get into the first draft I may blood my axe until it needs some major sharpening. We shall see, my friends. Indeed we shall.
Oh, before I go, I have to say hello to the Aussie fan(s) who keep hitting my page from Google.com.au. Hello! I hope you have a pleasant winter. It's still awesome to me that people a world away can see what I'm writing as soon as I'm done writing it, and have done so on more than one occasion!
Thanks for reading and, as always, thank you for your continued support!
Wait, the latter would make me a politician or CEO apologizing for, well, anything.
Okay, it was just a thought. My brain does some odd things at weird times.
So, since this is the opposite of the opposite of an update, that makes this an update and someone might think at this point I'm just stalling.
STALLING! Of course! The opposite of an update is a stall, and not the cow/horse/engine kind. In a sense, it's a shame pigs live in sties/pens, because then the comparison to politicians ends, though it's really not fair to domestic pigs because given a chance they live cleanly and take care of their young.
Well, I feel better.
Okay, update time. Writing continues apace. I'm doing a couple thousand words a day on average, though that's an estimation because I'm not counting what I'm writing longhand. My word processor takes care of the actual word count when I'm typing, so I have a decent metric for said estimation...
Anyway. Let's see how the editing goes once I get everything lined up. I'm seriously not censoring myself when I'm writing because rough drafts are like that, but once I get into the first draft I may blood my axe until it needs some major sharpening. We shall see, my friends. Indeed we shall.
Oh, before I go, I have to say hello to the Aussie fan(s) who keep hitting my page from Google.com.au. Hello! I hope you have a pleasant winter. It's still awesome to me that people a world away can see what I'm writing as soon as I'm done writing it, and have done so on more than one occasion!
Thanks for reading and, as always, thank you for your continued support!
Monday, March 30, 2015
Hello... Is this thing on? Oh, right, I forgot to flip the switch over here...
Well hello out there in the internet... World? Tubes? Networks? Something, in any case. Greetings from this tiny corner of the internet-thing.
To be honest, I'm sick of being formal -- it doesn't seem to net me any extra readers, garner me any ad revenue (because I'm not making any ads pop up on your computer if I can help it), or do anything for me except make me sound stiff. My knee? That's stiff, but that's a whole other story. My writing, as any of you who have read it will probably agree, isn't. My characters, fights, worlds, etc, are rough, yes. But it's not stiff.
Anyway, I appreciate the support and kind words I've received via Twitter (which I will respond to as soon as I can) and elsewhere. Life has been hell; crazy health issues, crazy relationship issues, crazy friendship issues, crazy weather, writer's block... But I've gone over most of these before. No point in rehashing the issues.
So I figured I'd give you guys, gals, and everything in between a quick update on what was going on.
Regarding my health: I've had some severe medication issues. When I say severe, I mean severe. It's next to impossible to get anything done with the medication you're trying to take puts you in the bathroom for upwards of four hours a day. I'm not going to go into details, you haven't done anything to deserve them that I'm aware of. But I'm better now that I'm no longer taking said medication, though I'm sure my doctor will try to put me on the third member of the family when I see him in a couple weeks.
Regarding my relationship issues: Crazy, crazy, stressful, crazy, stressful, stressful, stressful, crazy. Now that I'm done with last week, I can talk about this week... Only a mild exaggeration, purely for comedic effect. Seriously, only a mild exaggeration. Last winter I lost thirty pounds before February and gained them back by year's end. This year instead of losing weight I lost hair. To be honest, I preferred the weight loss, even if it meant everything from getting an ultrasound of my liver to genetic testing that came back with interesting results.
The weather may finally be settling down, so let's see how that goes.
And now for the one most of you are probably at all concerned about, the writer's block. I've been writing a lot lately. I gave in and went back to my old method of creating -- long-hand writing with a fountain pen (or two or four or... Okay, I need to go through and count my pens again) for the rough draft, then typing it up and smoothing/editing while doing so, then going back and polishing it, etc. I did roughly five thousand words in less than twenty-four hours a few days ago. It's mostly been scrawling things out since, but I figure I did a couple thousand words yesterday. That's a lot of writing, at least long-hand. Going to be a lot of typing later, and I'm excited at the prospect.
So what am I writing? I can only write what my muse lets me. In this case, it's not Rogue. Sorry, folks, but I'll get back to that soon. I'm working on the sequel to Triggerbreak. Some of you might question why I'm writing the sequel to a book that's sold somewhere around forty to sixty copies, especially when there's still demand for the Subject 12 sequel, and you'd be right to do so. My answer has already been given, though. I can only write what my muse lets me.
Speaking of Rogue, I do have some good news on that front. I've decided to go ahead and write what I'd originally planned. That means serious tie-ins to both books that came before, but mostly it'll just be more Hammer-y goodness for those of you who like that kind of thing. The bad news to go with the good is I'm going to finish this project, which I'll reveal more about when I get closer to the end of it, before I get back into Hammer's head.
Speaking of heads, any of you remember the short-lived Fox sitcom Herman's Head? I liked that show, but in retrospect it was pretty-well doomed from the get-go. Still, it was better than CBS's utter waste of time, Partners. Holy crap, if there was ever a poster child for bad chemistry, bad writing, and banal directing, this show was in the running. There was zero chemistry between anyone on the show except the gay partner and the girlfriend, and that was for about two minutes in one scene of one show. None of the characters had any depth, it was just badly-written joke after unfunny joke after insultingly-bad or outright insulting joke, and nobody was believable as anybody in the show. Hell, half the time it seemed like they never even rehearsed together, it was just a couple minutes in front of a mirror before they went to the soundstage to film.
Ah, should have been a TV/movie/restaurant critic. Anyone know of any openings in the northern part of New York for any of the above? Drop me a line in the comments. Heck, drop me a line in the comments over anything. I swear I'll do better about responding in the future.
Thanks for reading! Back to work for me!
P. S. In case anyone thought I was being something other than attempting to engage a little with my last two blog posts... Shame on you! (Just kidding.)
To be honest, I'm sick of being formal -- it doesn't seem to net me any extra readers, garner me any ad revenue (because I'm not making any ads pop up on your computer if I can help it), or do anything for me except make me sound stiff. My knee? That's stiff, but that's a whole other story. My writing, as any of you who have read it will probably agree, isn't. My characters, fights, worlds, etc, are rough, yes. But it's not stiff.
Anyway, I appreciate the support and kind words I've received via Twitter (which I will respond to as soon as I can) and elsewhere. Life has been hell; crazy health issues, crazy relationship issues, crazy friendship issues, crazy weather, writer's block... But I've gone over most of these before. No point in rehashing the issues.
So I figured I'd give you guys, gals, and everything in between a quick update on what was going on.
Regarding my health: I've had some severe medication issues. When I say severe, I mean severe. It's next to impossible to get anything done with the medication you're trying to take puts you in the bathroom for upwards of four hours a day. I'm not going to go into details, you haven't done anything to deserve them that I'm aware of. But I'm better now that I'm no longer taking said medication, though I'm sure my doctor will try to put me on the third member of the family when I see him in a couple weeks.
Regarding my relationship issues: Crazy, crazy, stressful, crazy, stressful, stressful, stressful, crazy. Now that I'm done with last week, I can talk about this week... Only a mild exaggeration, purely for comedic effect. Seriously, only a mild exaggeration. Last winter I lost thirty pounds before February and gained them back by year's end. This year instead of losing weight I lost hair. To be honest, I preferred the weight loss, even if it meant everything from getting an ultrasound of my liver to genetic testing that came back with interesting results.
The weather may finally be settling down, so let's see how that goes.
And now for the one most of you are probably at all concerned about, the writer's block. I've been writing a lot lately. I gave in and went back to my old method of creating -- long-hand writing with a fountain pen (or two or four or... Okay, I need to go through and count my pens again) for the rough draft, then typing it up and smoothing/editing while doing so, then going back and polishing it, etc. I did roughly five thousand words in less than twenty-four hours a few days ago. It's mostly been scrawling things out since, but I figure I did a couple thousand words yesterday. That's a lot of writing, at least long-hand. Going to be a lot of typing later, and I'm excited at the prospect.
So what am I writing? I can only write what my muse lets me. In this case, it's not Rogue. Sorry, folks, but I'll get back to that soon. I'm working on the sequel to Triggerbreak. Some of you might question why I'm writing the sequel to a book that's sold somewhere around forty to sixty copies, especially when there's still demand for the Subject 12 sequel, and you'd be right to do so. My answer has already been given, though. I can only write what my muse lets me.
Speaking of Rogue, I do have some good news on that front. I've decided to go ahead and write what I'd originally planned. That means serious tie-ins to both books that came before, but mostly it'll just be more Hammer-y goodness for those of you who like that kind of thing. The bad news to go with the good is I'm going to finish this project, which I'll reveal more about when I get closer to the end of it, before I get back into Hammer's head.
Speaking of heads, any of you remember the short-lived Fox sitcom Herman's Head? I liked that show, but in retrospect it was pretty-well doomed from the get-go. Still, it was better than CBS's utter waste of time, Partners. Holy crap, if there was ever a poster child for bad chemistry, bad writing, and banal directing, this show was in the running. There was zero chemistry between anyone on the show except the gay partner and the girlfriend, and that was for about two minutes in one scene of one show. None of the characters had any depth, it was just badly-written joke after unfunny joke after insultingly-bad or outright insulting joke, and nobody was believable as anybody in the show. Hell, half the time it seemed like they never even rehearsed together, it was just a couple minutes in front of a mirror before they went to the soundstage to film.
Ah, should have been a TV/movie/restaurant critic. Anyone know of any openings in the northern part of New York for any of the above? Drop me a line in the comments. Heck, drop me a line in the comments over anything. I swear I'll do better about responding in the future.
Thanks for reading! Back to work for me!
P. S. In case anyone thought I was being something other than attempting to engage a little with my last two blog posts... Shame on you! (Just kidding.)
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Well, Back to Work.
Okay, nobody wants to talk. That's fine. Guess I'll get back to work, then.
Have a nice day, everyone!
Have a nice day, everyone!
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Let's Talk
There are things we don't talk like to admit to that we all do. Then there are the things few of us have done: Stolen to feed ourselves or our family. Killed in self-defense. Washed the blood of our enemies off our faces while staring at ourselves in the cracked bathroom mirror of a closed gas station, trying to ignore the disgraced doctor stitches up a knife wound in our thighs with nothing to dull the pain except a light dusting of some unknown powder said doctor had been stuffing up his nose ten minutes before. Stab a needle into our legs to inject farm store penicillin every day for a week while delirious from fever, the only saving grace the burning pain from the injection lost in the agony of the infection slowly eating away at our wound. The nightmares so lovingly called "fever dreams" claiming us every time we pass out, only to snap awake and stare at the water-stained ceiling of a condemned motel that was far too close to the hunters, the police, to allow any rest while awake.
But maybe we need to talk about these things, lest we forget they ever happen; lest we doom ourselves to repeat them.
But maybe we need to talk about these things, lest we forget they ever happen; lest we doom ourselves to repeat them.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Catharsis or just confession? I'm not sure.
With my apologies for, in my own mind at least, letting everyone down again, I want to share a little of my life lately.
For starters, I am now single. My girlfriend of approximately four years (discounting the three months she was seeing someone else before agreeing to a serious relationship with me) dumped me last Sunday. Via text message. I won't go into detail beyond that little gem, nor will I expound on her cheating on me on Valentine's Day with the guy she'd been seeing.
So, as you can imagine, my life's been a mess for, if I want to be honest, a year now. With that in mind it's a small miracle that I got Reagent Protocol finished and published this year. Now, that particular book hasn't been well-received, and I have some ideas on that, even though I still think the story and characters are in some ways superior to previous works. One of these ideas, simply put, is a lack of feedback while I was writing it.
Not so simply put, I have a method for writing that probably is a little less self-reliant than it should be. When I struggle with a sentence, or if I wonder about a passage, I like to ask people to read the parts in question and give me some feedback. Frequently, the simple act of posting the questionable content in a chat window, e-mail, or what-have-you, gives me insight. This insight usually leads to small changes, but the feedback I get from the friend(s) I shared with is frequently invaluable to me.
The fact that I don't have a professional editor to help me is also a reason why I find this particular exchange so useful and valuable.
I won't lie and say that the feeling I get when my friends ask me for more of the story to read (especially when it's unsolicited) is unwelcome. It's very encouraging, actually.
I've had none of that for a very long time.
The net result is that I wrote the last half (or more, I can't remember) Shawn Doolish part of Reagent Protocol without any appreciable amount of feedback and an unbelievable amount of personal stress from an unhappy relationship. Actually, I wrote the whole think with no real feedback. The reasons for this are several-fold. Many of my friends are no longer in my life in any way. Most of those have moved on, or at least moved away from the only ways I had to contact them. Of those remaining, none of them have the free time they used to, so I can't ask them to do more than peek at a line or two once in a great while.
Some of you would ask, why not ask the girlfriend for her help? Well, um, that's a good question, actually. It warrants a good answer. I'll give one, just not quite yet.
During the last two years I haven't been exceptionally productive, writing-wise. Actually, that's incorrect. Since I published Subject 12, I haven't been very productive. I wrote The Grand Granger and Reagent Protocol in these intervening years, but neither is especially long, nor particularly successful. Oh well, as teenagers say all the time. But I haven't been very productive, it's really that simple.
So, why? I've been distracted, depressed, busy, and in a relationship that appears to have been far more one-sided than I'd ever thought. My girlfriend was rarely supportive of my writing. Or of me, for that matter. When the chips were down and I really, truly needed support because my world was collapsing around me and it wasn't entirely internal, she was there for me. That's something that I respect her for, but as for the rest of the relationship it just didn't work. I threw everything I could into it; I changed behaviors and goals, spent money I couldn't afford to spend and barely had, sacrificed friends and damaged relationships with other people I cared about, drove an hour to visit her two and three times a week, and found myself including her in every decision I made whenever she was around (other than the food I ordered at restaurants), all just to be with and try to make happy a woman who felt that she was making me miserable. At least, that's the story she tells. To be honest, I believe she was unhappy with herself and her medical problems, and her refusal to compromise on virtually anything drove me batty. I wont go into more details, but I will say that her cheating on me wasn't the worst thing that happened, even if it felt like it at the time. The things she's accused me of indicate such a negative opinion of me that I honestly don't know why she wanted me around at all, and to be honest with myself, it really hurts to think someone I care about thinks so badly of me.
It was, in short, a bad relationship. It ate up my life, leaving me little else to subsist on. That little else did not include much writing; I did get some done on various projects, but not enough to say I did enough, and the quality has, no doubt, suffered from my distraction and stress. We fought constantly. Due to this relationship I've gained and lost over sixty pounds in the last year. If that doesn't tell you what my life has been like, I don't know how better to explain it.
That's not to say it was all bad. We did share some good laughs, some good times, and some good food. If I hadn't been trying to show her that I was changing, I wouldn't now own a fedora that I wear a lot (though it's borderline amazing that I found a hat that fits me). Yes, I said a fedora, not a damn trilby. If you don't know the difference you should look it up, because pimps, hipsters, and neckbeards wear the trilby, Indiana Jones and Humphrey Bogart wore a fedora.
But I seem to be getting a little off-topic, don't I? Sorry, I do tend to ramble.
At this point I should answer the question I asked earlier. Why couldn't I ask my girlfriend to read what I wrote? Because she didn't like it. Any of it. She says she enjoyed The Grand Granger, and I believe her, but there was nothing else she found entertaining, amusing, or at all interesting. She constantly got after me about my writing -- that I was complaining about being blocked (I didn't do it that often, but, yes, I admit I said I was blocked and it was bothering me.), or that I needed a "real job". She said I was waiting around for something good to happen, hinting that I needed to give up on my dream. She'd moan about how she lost the manuscript for her book, a poem collection, and never let me forget that at some point I apparently compared her work (which I've never read, I want to add, because she never shared) to someone else's (which I never did, having never read hers) whose work I described as being in an archaic style. Okay. So, I should give up on my dream because she lost her manuscript and gave up on hers. That was my takeaway.
Why would I get support for something important to me when she secretly hates that I'm trying to do what she couldn't bring herself to do? So, no matter what, I couldn't ask her for the support I needed, and having lost (and driven away) friends that used to do it for me (and would make her jealous that they were doing something she patently refused to do), I had nobody to do it for me.
This situation hasn't improved, but I'm going to try and work around it.
As for how I'm doing, I have to answer with a simple, "I'm okay, thank you." and not expound too much. I really am okay. I'm a little depressed, I'm pretty lonely, and I have two nights that I have to work between ten and fourteen hours apiece without any real break. It's decent money, but it's a couple of long nights, and this is the first year that I won't have any visitors to help break up the monotony. On top of this, I've watched almost everything I care to on Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, etc. Did I mention it's not a hard job? Well, it's not. My duties include staying awake, walking around, and making sure the drunks don't go through the area. Actually, I'm responsible for making sure people don't come in and steal or break stuff. But what it amounts to is keeping the drunks (Friday and Saturday night at a hotel with a bar, in a college town. Need I say more?) out and telling people to come back in the morning.
Those nights, though, are going to be very difficult for me if my brain decides to take a trip down memory lane. Or if it decides that it's time to go over every failed relationship I've had, and remind me of every mistake I made in the last one. You know, typical post-breakup stuff we all go through.
Anyway, I apologize for spending so much time talking about something other than what I've been writing. I just wanted you guys and gals to know why I haven't been talking much, doing much, or writing much. I also guess I just wanted to show everyone that yes, I'm a human being too, with all that entails.
Thanks for reading and for your continued support!
For starters, I am now single. My girlfriend of approximately four years (discounting the three months she was seeing someone else before agreeing to a serious relationship with me) dumped me last Sunday. Via text message. I won't go into detail beyond that little gem, nor will I expound on her cheating on me on Valentine's Day with the guy she'd been seeing.
So, as you can imagine, my life's been a mess for, if I want to be honest, a year now. With that in mind it's a small miracle that I got Reagent Protocol finished and published this year. Now, that particular book hasn't been well-received, and I have some ideas on that, even though I still think the story and characters are in some ways superior to previous works. One of these ideas, simply put, is a lack of feedback while I was writing it.
Not so simply put, I have a method for writing that probably is a little less self-reliant than it should be. When I struggle with a sentence, or if I wonder about a passage, I like to ask people to read the parts in question and give me some feedback. Frequently, the simple act of posting the questionable content in a chat window, e-mail, or what-have-you, gives me insight. This insight usually leads to small changes, but the feedback I get from the friend(s) I shared with is frequently invaluable to me.
The fact that I don't have a professional editor to help me is also a reason why I find this particular exchange so useful and valuable.
I won't lie and say that the feeling I get when my friends ask me for more of the story to read (especially when it's unsolicited) is unwelcome. It's very encouraging, actually.
I've had none of that for a very long time.
The net result is that I wrote the last half (or more, I can't remember) Shawn Doolish part of Reagent Protocol without any appreciable amount of feedback and an unbelievable amount of personal stress from an unhappy relationship. Actually, I wrote the whole think with no real feedback. The reasons for this are several-fold. Many of my friends are no longer in my life in any way. Most of those have moved on, or at least moved away from the only ways I had to contact them. Of those remaining, none of them have the free time they used to, so I can't ask them to do more than peek at a line or two once in a great while.
Some of you would ask, why not ask the girlfriend for her help? Well, um, that's a good question, actually. It warrants a good answer. I'll give one, just not quite yet.
During the last two years I haven't been exceptionally productive, writing-wise. Actually, that's incorrect. Since I published Subject 12, I haven't been very productive. I wrote The Grand Granger and Reagent Protocol in these intervening years, but neither is especially long, nor particularly successful. Oh well, as teenagers say all the time. But I haven't been very productive, it's really that simple.
So, why? I've been distracted, depressed, busy, and in a relationship that appears to have been far more one-sided than I'd ever thought. My girlfriend was rarely supportive of my writing. Or of me, for that matter. When the chips were down and I really, truly needed support because my world was collapsing around me and it wasn't entirely internal, she was there for me. That's something that I respect her for, but as for the rest of the relationship it just didn't work. I threw everything I could into it; I changed behaviors and goals, spent money I couldn't afford to spend and barely had, sacrificed friends and damaged relationships with other people I cared about, drove an hour to visit her two and three times a week, and found myself including her in every decision I made whenever she was around (other than the food I ordered at restaurants), all just to be with and try to make happy a woman who felt that she was making me miserable. At least, that's the story she tells. To be honest, I believe she was unhappy with herself and her medical problems, and her refusal to compromise on virtually anything drove me batty. I wont go into more details, but I will say that her cheating on me wasn't the worst thing that happened, even if it felt like it at the time. The things she's accused me of indicate such a negative opinion of me that I honestly don't know why she wanted me around at all, and to be honest with myself, it really hurts to think someone I care about thinks so badly of me.
It was, in short, a bad relationship. It ate up my life, leaving me little else to subsist on. That little else did not include much writing; I did get some done on various projects, but not enough to say I did enough, and the quality has, no doubt, suffered from my distraction and stress. We fought constantly. Due to this relationship I've gained and lost over sixty pounds in the last year. If that doesn't tell you what my life has been like, I don't know how better to explain it.
That's not to say it was all bad. We did share some good laughs, some good times, and some good food. If I hadn't been trying to show her that I was changing, I wouldn't now own a fedora that I wear a lot (though it's borderline amazing that I found a hat that fits me). Yes, I said a fedora, not a damn trilby. If you don't know the difference you should look it up, because pimps, hipsters, and neckbeards wear the trilby, Indiana Jones and Humphrey Bogart wore a fedora.
But I seem to be getting a little off-topic, don't I? Sorry, I do tend to ramble.
At this point I should answer the question I asked earlier. Why couldn't I ask my girlfriend to read what I wrote? Because she didn't like it. Any of it. She says she enjoyed The Grand Granger, and I believe her, but there was nothing else she found entertaining, amusing, or at all interesting. She constantly got after me about my writing -- that I was complaining about being blocked (I didn't do it that often, but, yes, I admit I said I was blocked and it was bothering me.), or that I needed a "real job". She said I was waiting around for something good to happen, hinting that I needed to give up on my dream. She'd moan about how she lost the manuscript for her book, a poem collection, and never let me forget that at some point I apparently compared her work (which I've never read, I want to add, because she never shared) to someone else's (which I never did, having never read hers) whose work I described as being in an archaic style. Okay. So, I should give up on my dream because she lost her manuscript and gave up on hers. That was my takeaway.
Why would I get support for something important to me when she secretly hates that I'm trying to do what she couldn't bring herself to do? So, no matter what, I couldn't ask her for the support I needed, and having lost (and driven away) friends that used to do it for me (and would make her jealous that they were doing something she patently refused to do), I had nobody to do it for me.
This situation hasn't improved, but I'm going to try and work around it.
As for how I'm doing, I have to answer with a simple, "I'm okay, thank you." and not expound too much. I really am okay. I'm a little depressed, I'm pretty lonely, and I have two nights that I have to work between ten and fourteen hours apiece without any real break. It's decent money, but it's a couple of long nights, and this is the first year that I won't have any visitors to help break up the monotony. On top of this, I've watched almost everything I care to on Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, etc. Did I mention it's not a hard job? Well, it's not. My duties include staying awake, walking around, and making sure the drunks don't go through the area. Actually, I'm responsible for making sure people don't come in and steal or break stuff. But what it amounts to is keeping the drunks (Friday and Saturday night at a hotel with a bar, in a college town. Need I say more?) out and telling people to come back in the morning.
Those nights, though, are going to be very difficult for me if my brain decides to take a trip down memory lane. Or if it decides that it's time to go over every failed relationship I've had, and remind me of every mistake I made in the last one. You know, typical post-breakup stuff we all go through.
Anyway, I apologize for spending so much time talking about something other than what I've been writing. I just wanted you guys and gals to know why I haven't been talking much, doing much, or writing much. I also guess I just wanted to show everyone that yes, I'm a human being too, with all that entails.
Thanks for reading and for your continued support!
Friday, September 12, 2014
I found this gem while digging through old compositions on my desktop. I really need to spend more time on my desktop.
I found this little gem on my desktop, which I don't spend nearly enough time on lately. It's from at least ten years ago, but I still like it. There's a whole story in here somewhere, but I don't know if I'll ever dig it out.
In any case, enjoy! Posted as-found, corrected only for formatting. I call it "Butcher Bullet" for reasons that will become obvious.
In any case, enjoy! Posted as-found, corrected only for formatting. I call it "Butcher Bullet" for reasons that will become obvious.
The young recruits sat
in a row, their new uniforms chafing their still-soft, as yet unused
to such harsh clothing but toughening fast, skin. The day was
overcast but still hot; sweat was starting to half-moon under their
arms. The dark cloth was unsuitable to such conditions as the
recruits had experienced so far; the long
sleeves were the only symbol of rank, earned by surviving their third
week.
The instructor only had
one arm, the other ending just above the elbow – the rest had been
replaced with a cybernetic prosthesis that whined quietly as it
moved. He strode around the scarred wooden table with a purpose, the
quiet whines of the cybernetics almost drowned by the sounds of his
mirror-bright boots hitting the wind-hardened earth. The crease in
his trousers was sharp enough to shave with and one recruit snickered
quietly at the thought of this two-meter-tall instructor staring into
his shoes to shave with his pants.
“Recruit Thompson,”
the DI said as he came to a stop in front of the assembly, “do you
find something funny about today?”
“N-n-n-n-no, Sir!”
“Then, if I have your
permission, I'd like to begin.” The air chilled slightly.
Strangely, the recruits started to sweat even more.
“Yes, Sir!”
The DI placed two rifle
magazines on the table and stepped forward.
“My name is Gunnery
Sergeant Smith. Some of you may have seen
me talking to Colonel Park so you know what weight I pull around
here. You will shut up, you
will listen
and you will not repeat
a word that I say to you today. I have you for an hour and a half
and I do not intend to use half of that time. The rest of the time
you will spend talking amongst yourselves like the plebes you are and
you will, no doubt, discount everything I say to you. That would be
a mistake, but it's what almost every single one of you little pukes
has done for the past fifteen years so I don't expect anything
different this time. What I'm about to tell you may save your life
or may get you killed, it all depends on how good or how goddamn
lucky you are. In case any of you doubt it, I have seen combat and I
have lived through it. I have over two hundred CK's, that's
Confirmed Kills for those of you still not up on military speak, as a
sniper. They don't count the ones you get with an assault rifle in a
general melee. I have been wounded sixteen times, earning a citation
each time for bravery above and beyond the call of duty, been awarded
two medals of honor, five bronze stars, three silver stars, and given
the highest award for soldiers by six foreign governments. The last
time I was wounded I lost my arm and my combat fitness rating,
and have been pulling this REMF duty ever since. I have refused
promotion more times then I can count or remember and turned down at
least twelve cushy civvie jobs. Civvie jobs that all I'd need to do
was smile and pose for photos at seventy times the pay I'm getting
now. Why do I stay? Because maybe, just maybe, I can save one
of your sorry butts a year. Some of you will be soldiers – the
best job, finest title, and highest honor, a man can have. If I can
keep one of you alive to come home to your mother or wife and kids,
then I have been paid in some currency far more valuable than money.
“No
doubt some of you are asking yourselves, 'I've never heard of this
pompous windbag. If he's half as decorated as he's claiming to be I
should have, right?' I have an answer for you; no, you shouldn't
have. Every single medal they've pinned to me has been kept so
hush-hush you couldn't even breathe where the people with the
security clearance to know about it live. And if any of you have any
bright ideas, you're the last group I have before I leave for another
camp. As of eighteen hundred hours today, I'm a ghost.
“The
more observant of you no doubt noticed that I put two things on this
table here. The ones with a functioning brain probably figured out
that these are thirty round magazines for the RAKS assault carbine,
with which you are becoming familiar. What many of you do not
and up till now have had no reason
to know about is that there is a custom-made, semi-automatic-only
variant of it called the RAKASHA. Whereas RAKS stands for, as your
instructors no doubt beat into your heads till you can see it when
you close your eyes, 'Rifle, Automatic, Kalashnikov, Short-barrel',
the RAKASHA stands for 'Rifle, Automatic, Kalashnikov, Specialty,
High Accuracy' and is so damn expensive a civvie could buy a family
sedan for less. The object I have in my right hand is the magazine
for the RAKS. You will note the how the translucent plastic allows
you to count how many unfired rounds remain. This is a nice feature
on the range but is damn near useless in a firefight because anyone
who takes his eyes off the enemy long enough to count shells instead
of shooting them usually earns a large hole that spurts blood. There
is a reason you've heard the phrase 'when in doubt, empty the
magazine' and I can assure it doesn't mean with your thumb.
“Recruit
Thompson, would you please tell me how many rounds are left in
this magazine?” He held the translucent green plastic rectangle
over his head, accompanied by the whine of servomotors.
Thompson stood up,
sweating and looking nervous. “I can't see from here, Sir.”
“Recruit Thompson,
that's the smartest thing you've said today. This should illustrate
my point perfectly. First, it's damn near impossible to see how many
rounds are in the magazine in low light, so don't bother to look.
Try to count your rounds as you fire, if you can and need to; it's
more reliable. Thirty rounds mean ten trigger pulls, after that
you'll just be making your rifle go click. Recruit Thompson, have
you seen a RAKS yet?”
“Yessir.”
“About how much of the
magazine was inside the rifle?”
“About half, Sir.”
“Thank you. You may
sit down now. 'About half of the magazine.' That's twenty rounds,
my dear recruits, that you can't see. That's my other point. Making
the magazines translucent was, as I said, a fine idea for the range.
In combat, if you take the time to look at your magazine without damn
good cause, you'll be coming home in either a large box or several
small ones. This is a fine magazine; very rugged and far cheaper to
produce then an all-metal one, which was their alternative. However,
it can be distracting, and distractions mean death for the men in a
hot zone. This is now you my
dear recruits.” He stabbed his cybernetic finger at them to
punctuate his point and put the magazine back on the table. The
servos whined as he pushed his wide-brimmed cap back to expose the
faint scar on his forehead. “The RAKS is general issue and so is
the ammo for it. Some instructors will tell you to load twenty-eight
rounds into the mag to ease pressure on the magazine spring. This,
in theory, causes easier feeding so it doesn't jam.” He paused, a
twitch at the corner of his mouth the only giveaway to his emotional
state. “Some instructors have not only not
seen combat but haven't left this camp, other then to go to the
cathouse in the village, in twenty years and the only med call
they've seen is for VD. I'm not going to say these are the same
instructors, but I will say that I have eaten more dirt then they've
seen on a two day training maneuver and I always load thirty rounds.
I have had one jam and that was because a cartridge blew up in the
chamber. That's how I got this. There's a reason the RAKS is
general issue – after I picked myself up and could see straight
again I stumbled away with the rifle in tow. By the next day I had
it unjammed and was back on the line.”
The recruits whispered
amongst themselves at that point, hushed arguments over believing him
or not.
“Some instructors
here, probably the same ones who say not to load those last two
rounds in the magazine, seem to think that the equipment our enemy
uses is nothing but cheap junk. My arm came off to a single round
from some of that 'cheap junk', fired from far enough away I was down
and hadn't found my arm yet when I heard the report. That 'cheap
junk' has mowed down more soldiers in my vision than I care to think
about. That 'cheap junk' is being held by dedicated, well trained,
men and women who seem to show up at the worst possible time and
always seem to have more then enough ammunition. Their weapons are
not as reliable or as powerful as ours on average, true, but power is
a relative term. Does it really matter if the slug that just tore
through your left lung was traveling at twice the speed of sound or
only half that speed?
“Speaking of power, I
wish for you to look at this next magazine. Please note, those of
you that can see, the notch on the left hand side. This is the
slider for the locking pin on the RAKASHA's bolt. The pin engages
this notch and holds the magazine perfectly stable during the feeding
cycle – the round fed into the chamber suffers no deformation or
vibration from the loading, especially on follow-up shots. The
action of the RAKASHA is a gas-tap, delayed buffer system that only
unlocks the bolt and ejects the shell only after the fired round has
left the barrel. The special magazine locking system I just
explained is for added accuracy and, I assure you, works damn well.
For this reason, the standard magazine will not
function in the RAKASHA, which is fine because the standard magazine
has been found deficient in both primary and followup shots at ranges
over three hundred meters. However, since there is no locking pin on
the bolt of the RAKS, a RAKASHA magazine will function perfectly fine
in the other weapon. There is no improvement to accuracy, however,
from such a substitution.”
He
walked around the table and picked up the other magazine. He pushed
the top cartridge from each, set them on their primer end, set the
magazines behind the cartridge that came from them, then walked back.
“From
a distance, these two cartridges appear to be identical. They are
not. The one on my left, standard issue; full metal jacket, lead
core, standard primer, non-expanding, explosive muzzle velocity.
This is called the surgeon bullet, so called because early versions
used to have an insufficient jacket and distinctly higher muzzle
velocity – this caused them to explode inside a soft target, such
as your body, making lots of hard work for the cutters. Now it's
called that because it leaves a nice, clean hole all the way through.
This is what you are issued, this is what you will use. This is the
only ammunition you can legally possess
in a war zone.” He picked up the other cartridge. “This one is
not standard issue.
As those of you in the front row can see, it has a hollow tip. This
makes it a hollow-point bullet. This shifts the weight to the rear
making it more accurate, but it also means that it does
expand. It is, therefore,
illegal in a war zone
and carries a penalty of death to anyone caught with it. It is
issued only to snipers, and only on soft-target, single-kill
missions. I did not just say that, you did not see it, this bullet
does not exist, it never did, it never will. I doubt any of you will
see it after today, but if you do, remember this; load it last so
it's fired first. We call this one the butcher bullet because anyone
who's hit with it might as well go to the butcher because they're
just so much wasted meat.”
He
slipped the second cartridge into a pocket and buttoned it closed.
“Another weapon of
note today is the Crow. The Crow is our standard-issue submachine
gun. Actually, it's called the CAW, Close Assault Weapon, but since
a crow goes 'caw' the name is pretty obvious to figure out. I, for
one, felt like a fool asking someone to pass me one of the CAWs
before de-assing an APC. The Crow fires our standard pistol
cartridge at six hundred rounds per minute in single shot, three
round bursts, and full auto, and thereby compares favorably to our
enemy's five hundred and fifty with both single shot and full auto
capabilities. Our pistol cartridge, however, is not as powerful as
our enemy's standard submachine gun loading, nor as accurate, but it
suffices.
“Only a fool keeps his
weapon on full auto all the time. It's wasteful of ammo and it's
hard on the weapon, particularly the silenced variants some of you
may one day live to use. The Crow should be set, as a general rule,
on three round burst mode unless special circumstances arise. These
are suppression fire when you cannot see
your enemy, extractions, executions and when employing a silencer
device. Anyone who tries to fire their Crow on full auto with a
silencer deserves to lose their fingers, like they will, when the gas
pressure ruptures the cheap metal housing. This is something you
should damn well remember because your regular instructors don't
mention it for some reason. The Crow is a fine weapon to about half
the range you'd use the RAKS. Beyond that and the bullet has lost
enough velocity to be nearly worthless except to kick up some dirt,
which, while it may make someone keep their hear down, isn't very
useful. If you train with it you'll notice how much closer the
targets are, though smaller, then the ones for the RAKS. Now you
know why. The difficulty is the same, but it's all an illusion.
“The last two things
I'm here to speak about, if any of you are actually listening, are
the pistol and radio discipline. One is a poorly designed but
cheap-to-manufacture device that might save your life, the other is a
well designed, rugged, useful tool that will save you. Anyone
wish to guess which is which?”
A tentative
hand went up in the back row. Though the owner of the hand's face
was obscured, the instructor addressed him by name. “Put your hand
down, Recruit Brownfeather, you're wrong. The radio is not cheap to
manufacture because the chemicals in the power cell are exotics.
Before any of you start to think that I'm pulling your leg, I'm going
to ask you all a question. How much do each of you make in a year
serving here? Double that. That's what a combat radio costs.
That's why there's only one per squad that you're all linked into via
that headset you've all been grumbling about over chow. Your
radioman is your lifeline; keep him alive or you're all worm food.
As for radio discipline, I only have three things to say. One, keep
your messages brief, to the point and as full of details as you can.
That way there are fewer questions, less air time, less chance of
getting traced and less lag before the air support or artillery hits.
Two, never keep a channel open, especially if you're scouting. Send
short, coded messages when you have to and shut up the rest of the
time. Third, when the crap explodes, and it will, the first thing
you do is hit the panic button before you return fire. I take that
back. First you duck.
“The issue pistol has
several major issues. First off, it's inconsistent
when it comes to feeding. While this has been addressed by a stiffer
magazine spring, the angle of the loading ramp remains the same. It
doesn't like the truncated cone shape of
the issue ammunition and will jam on average once every fifteen
rounds because of it. Issue magazines are twelve rounds. Do the
math. Another glaring problem with the pistol is the sights.
Whatever genius decided to put a graduated ramp at the rear of a
pistol's slide obviously never fired one in combat. It comes loose
at the slightest provocation and blocks your view of the blade,
making sighting impossible. Don't trust it. The power of the issue
ammunition has already been addressed, but remember what I said when
you have to use some. In the pistol it's even worse because of the
shorter barrel, and the muzzle flash and blast are tremendous.
Finally, we have to consider the fact that everything is made by the
lowest bidder the government can find. Since the standard issue
pistol is considered a secondary or even tertiary arm, the standards
applied are about as loose as a bride's thighs on her honeymoon.
Don't trust it. Use it if you have to, but don't trust it.
“I could lecture you
for the next week for eight hours a day and still not give you half
of what I learned the hard way. I could spend the next month
running you through drills and giving you proper hands-on training
with these weapons and their counterparts and you still wouldn't be
ready for combat. Nothing we can do here will prepare you mentally
for the blood and terror you're going to have to deal with without
destroying you as human beings. The best we can do is train your
bodies to react properly, your minds to make the right decisions and
give you the most important pearls of wisdom we have found and hope
to hell you adapt enough to come back alive and sane. The
instructors here are full of crap, but they're well trained, and so
will you be when you graduate. Common sense says that an
individual's chances of survival in a battle are better if he runs
away, yet, statistically, more people die during the 'mopping up'
phase, after the line has broken. Therefore, mathematically,
your chances of surviving as a whole
are significantly
higher if you stand and fight. Remember that
when things get hot and you'll do well for yourself, your squad and
your army.
“I
wish you all the best of luck and I hope there's a single smart one
among you who'll remember what I've said here. I hope I kept
someone's mother from getting a folded flag to show the neighbors
what she sacrificed. I am leaving now but you have just over an hour
to wait here and relax before your next instructor arrives. Use that
time well.”
He
saluted them. Then, rather then wait for them to return the salute,
he turned on his heel and marched off, the faint whine of servos
disappearing when into the hot, still, summer air.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Research, Reagent Protocol, and The Future
Hello, everyone. This is going to be a quickie, but I felt like I owed you all something to prove I was still alive.
First off, I want to touch on what I do for research. I frequently do hours of research (though to be fair, it's done online and some of it comes from Wikipedia, so you can give me as much credit for accuracy as you wish) for small details, just to make sure they're right. For example, the Sanskrit I used for Skorpion's gloves in Reagent Protocol and the mythology associated with the word I chose for poison took me over two hours. That doesn't seem like much, when you consider the years some people spend researching certain subjects, but most of these people are doing research for entire books, or series, etc, not just a small aspect of one. I could have picked almost anything, but I wanted something different, perhaps unique, to make the book stand out. Besides, I do pride myself a little bit on accuracy, even if it is fictional.
Let me give you another, specific, example of the research I do. When attempting to find some way for Shawn to forge the one ring (couldn't resist) he made in Reagent Protocol, I watched a demonstration of something called crucible steel. When I say demonstration of it, I mean a demonstration of everything from the forging of a sword from the steel to the actual refining of the ore. That's where I got the idea for the oven he melted the ore in, actually. Okay, that's where I ripped the idea from. I just added a little magical pizzazz to make it fit better. If you have any interest in seeing this demonstration, I can highly recommend an episode of Nova where they make a Viking sword roughly a millennium ahead of its time. For those of you with Amazon Prime video streaming, you can watch it through that service in high definition. You'll want Nova Season 8, episode 11. If you're anything like me, just watching the sword getting forged is very entertaining, but in the finest traditions of the Nova show, it's also very informative and moves along at an excellent pace. If you're not a Prime subscriber but you are a Netflix subscriber, you can watch it there, too, if you'd like. Just do a search for "Secrets of the Viking Sword" and it'll come up fine. If you don't subscribe to either, you can watch on PBS's website for free (assuming you're a resident of the USA or have a proxy set up properly to view content). I found it fascinating.
So, if you've ever wondered why I'm so specific about certain details in my writing, it's because I have reason to be.
Anyway, speaking of Reagent Protocol, I have plans to eventually add another short story to it. After all, I've only showed what, arguably, are success stories for those seeking redemption. Not every story has such a happy ending.
Moving on to the future (don't want to disappoint people by not coming through on that), my plans seem to fluctuate with whatever I can create at the time. At the moment I'm working on a (hopefully much more successful and, outlined, much longer) followup to The Grand Granger. I'm in very early stages of the rough draft, but we'll see where the tides take us. That's not to say I'm not also pecking away at Guild Files: Rogue, but it's definitely taken a back seat. Why? Sociopaths are easy to create but hard to write.
Take from that what you will.
On that note I'm going to wrap things up. Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I have reasons, and reasons aplenty, why I haven't been more talkative or creative lately. No, I'm not going to share them. They're personal and this isn't a blog about my personal life.
Thanks for reading and be sure to tell all your friends about how awesome at least some of my writing is!
S.
First off, I want to touch on what I do for research. I frequently do hours of research (though to be fair, it's done online and some of it comes from Wikipedia, so you can give me as much credit for accuracy as you wish) for small details, just to make sure they're right. For example, the Sanskrit I used for Skorpion's gloves in Reagent Protocol and the mythology associated with the word I chose for poison took me over two hours. That doesn't seem like much, when you consider the years some people spend researching certain subjects, but most of these people are doing research for entire books, or series, etc, not just a small aspect of one. I could have picked almost anything, but I wanted something different, perhaps unique, to make the book stand out. Besides, I do pride myself a little bit on accuracy, even if it is fictional.
Let me give you another, specific, example of the research I do. When attempting to find some way for Shawn to forge the one ring (couldn't resist) he made in Reagent Protocol, I watched a demonstration of something called crucible steel. When I say demonstration of it, I mean a demonstration of everything from the forging of a sword from the steel to the actual refining of the ore. That's where I got the idea for the oven he melted the ore in, actually. Okay, that's where I ripped the idea from. I just added a little magical pizzazz to make it fit better. If you have any interest in seeing this demonstration, I can highly recommend an episode of Nova where they make a Viking sword roughly a millennium ahead of its time. For those of you with Amazon Prime video streaming, you can watch it through that service in high definition. You'll want Nova Season 8, episode 11. If you're anything like me, just watching the sword getting forged is very entertaining, but in the finest traditions of the Nova show, it's also very informative and moves along at an excellent pace. If you're not a Prime subscriber but you are a Netflix subscriber, you can watch it there, too, if you'd like. Just do a search for "Secrets of the Viking Sword" and it'll come up fine. If you don't subscribe to either, you can watch on PBS's website for free (assuming you're a resident of the USA or have a proxy set up properly to view content). I found it fascinating.
So, if you've ever wondered why I'm so specific about certain details in my writing, it's because I have reason to be.
Anyway, speaking of Reagent Protocol, I have plans to eventually add another short story to it. After all, I've only showed what, arguably, are success stories for those seeking redemption. Not every story has such a happy ending.
Moving on to the future (don't want to disappoint people by not coming through on that), my plans seem to fluctuate with whatever I can create at the time. At the moment I'm working on a (hopefully much more successful and, outlined, much longer) followup to The Grand Granger. I'm in very early stages of the rough draft, but we'll see where the tides take us. That's not to say I'm not also pecking away at Guild Files: Rogue, but it's definitely taken a back seat. Why? Sociopaths are easy to create but hard to write.
Take from that what you will.
On that note I'm going to wrap things up. Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I have reasons, and reasons aplenty, why I haven't been more talkative or creative lately. No, I'm not going to share them. They're personal and this isn't a blog about my personal life.
Thanks for reading and be sure to tell all your friends about how awesome at least some of my writing is!
S.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Number Five, Still Alive!
Other than the clever-ish title, I don't have too much to say other than I'm still alive and I'm currently doing the early-stage work on a new Confederation universe story. Everyone likes pirates, right?
And some more information about the Tal'Red will be revealed. Maybe. After all, a little mystery is a good thing, right?
Thanks for reading!
(Oh, and if you haven't checked out Reagent Protocol or Triggerbreak yet, now would be a good time. If you have, thanks! Also, please tell your friends!)
Friday, March 21, 2014
The Writer's Curse
I did laundry tonight. For various reasons I'm not going to go into I'm not working on Rogue at the moment, but the urge to write is still strong. How strong?
Well, there you have it. By the way, if you're not following me over on Google + you're missing out on a few things.
If you want updates on Rogue or Reagent Protocol then follow me there or on Twitter, because I post there more than I do here.
I wrote this tonight. It's rough, but it's what I wrote. This is what my brain does to me frequently.
The first thing I noticed about him was his hat. I supposed this was intentional. Everything else about his clothing was hard-wearing, worn, and possibly even a little shabby. From his almost-olive-drab t-shirt, blue jeans that had holes in one leg, shoes that looked like they'd seen better months, unzipped jacket that looked tough enough to stand by itself when taken off, three-day stubble, and single ring gracing the middle finger of his right hand, I'd have been forced to say he was halfway to vagrancy.But there was more. His beard was growing out from a neat trim but was still well-maintained. It was a fussy style, too. His sideburns grew down his jawline, along his jaw, and into a goatee. His neck, which looked like his razor needed replacing, was shaven – aside from the stubble. His hair was long, but he'd pulled it back in a loose tail so it wasn't in the way, and just starting to gray a little at the temples.His middle was thick, like he was used to eating big, or at least heavy, meals, but not so thick as to make someone think he was fat. His legs were well-hidden by the jeans, but the thighs looked ever-so-slightly strained over the muscle moving when he walked. Actually, when he paced.He kept his hands in his pockets, but he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops just above them, like he was used to resting his hands on something hanging off his belt. His eyes darted from door to door and looked out each window. He never looked over his shoulder when he changed direction, but you could tell his awareness was keyed up.He didn't pace like a caged animal as he waited for his clothing to finish getting mauled by the industrial washing machine. No, he moved too slowly and deliberately for that. His pace was measured and cautious, like he'd grown used to watching where every footfall went. He never moved in one direction too long, either. He didn't turn his head, he turned his whole body to check behind him. And there was more. Whenever he didn't have his hands in his pockets, his thumbs locked in his belt loops, he moved his arms in a curious way. They swung like coiled springs, ready to loose their tension in less than a heartbeat on anyone incautious enough to come too closely.I felt the corner of my mouth curl ever-so-slightly in a half-smile.The hat, though. His jacket was faded and starting to fray around the cuffs, his shirt had bleach spots from a hurried hand putting the cap back on the bottle, his jeans were torn in several places on his left thigh, and his shoes sported soles that were obviously more than half worn and the bodies were starting to deteriorate, but he had that damn hat. Everything else he was wearing was obviously hard-used and designed to take it, but the hat was new and, aside from a few stray cat hairs, well-cared for.It looked good on him, don't get me wrong. It just stood out like a sore thumb, and nobody could say it was laundry day and that's why he was dressed down. He was far too comfortable wearing the shabby clothes to be that image-conscious.The hat was a fedora. Not a damn trilby, a fedora. There's a big difference, just so you know. Anyway, it was black, with a smaller brim than I would have expected, but nothing too obvious. It rode his head comfortably, and he was patently used to wearing it because he didn't hit it on anything he could have.It just seemed, well, odd.His right leg was minutely stiff and he had a barely-discernible limp from it, but nothing that would disqualify him from a ten-kay march.No, the more I watched him the more I came to the conclusion that the deliberate movement was to conserve energy, that the thickening middle was from eating habits from long periods of privation and heavy exercise rather than laziness, his hat was a peacock tail, and that this man had spent some serious time first in the suck and then in the shit. And, like so many other veterans, still spent part of his time there. At least he did in his own head.He didn't engage anyone. The only time I caught his eye I could see a stare that went beyond the horizon. I didn't try to hold it. He wanted to be left alone and it was the least I could do for someone who still hadn't come home. I left him alone to continue his solitary march through hell.
Well, there you have it. By the way, if you're not following me over on Google + you're missing out on a few things.
If you want updates on Rogue or Reagent Protocol then follow me there or on Twitter, because I post there more than I do here.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Reagent Protocol and a Pricing Change
Reagent Protocol is live in the Kindle store and for sale at the very-reasonable price of $2.99 US. For those of you not in the know, Reagent Protocol is the followup to the successful Subject 12, or Volume 2 in the Guild Files series (for those of you who keep track). Sales are off to a modest start, so why don't we see if we can't boost those?
With the release of Reagent Protocol, I'm lowering the price of Subject 12 to $2.99 to match. Sorry for the one person who bought it at $3.99 earlier in the month, but I'm keeping those extra few cents. The price change should be reflected in the Amazon store shortly.
So, pick up a copy of Reagent Protocol for yourself. It's DRM-free, for those of you who pay attention to such things. Actually, why not buy a copy for your friends as well as one for yourself?
Thanks for reading and thank you for your continued support!
P.S. I will get back to work on Rogue after I get some things in my life settled and myself back on a good track. My physical health has to be a priority for a while. I'll update people on what's going on if anyone's interested, otherwise I'll just go back to blogging about my books.
P.P.S. Did I forget to mention Triggerbreak? It's not a bad book, in my opinion, and it's a great way to support your favorite, starving author.
S. W. Douglas
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Reagent Protocol is LIVE
I don't know if you can buy it yet, but the link is live. Have fun, boys and girls! So, without further ado, a link.
And by the way, it's DRM-free, for those that care about that kind of thing.
Reagent Protocol Countdown
Reagent Protocol has been pushed to the Kindle store. I'll post linkage as soon as I have one that works.
Thank you for your patience and support!
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