They drew up, at last, to the edge of the mine, a few hundred feet from one of the wide earth ramps that had admitted the great stone-wains to and from the depths. Hasina sat and dangled her feet from the edge, kicking her legs out once. Esker hesitated a moment. Hasina looked back with… Continue reading Words 1-14-2015
Tag: The Claim
Words 1-13-2015
It was not until they could see the strip mine’s blotchy shadow begin to creep down from the horizon that Esker began to speak, still staring straight ahead. “The five of us would take food and water and come out here for a whole day,” he said. “Not when it was too hot—we knew better—but… Continue reading Words 1-13-2015
A brief note out of sequence
Due to unforeseen circumstances, the words I meant to write last night after the kids went to sleep have been replaced with a blitzkrieg campaign by my proxy ruler, Cyrus of Persia, against the Japanese, Aztec, and Roman civilizations in quick succession. The hostilities stretched into the wee hours of the morning, but all three enemy… Continue reading A brief note out of sequence
Development diaries, 1-12-2015: None of you fuckers loved me enough to tell me
Spent most of the weekend indoors with the kids, although they got out a bit on Sunday afternoon when it was warmer. My son R. is 15 months old—old enough to get into, over, or around almost anything, young enough to have at best a schematic sense of what one does not do if one… Continue reading Development diaries, 1-12-2015: None of you fuckers loved me enough to tell me
Words 1-12-2015
“Know in your bones you will,” said Esker. “The Nine, Epseris, what have you got against the damned girl?” “She’s nothing to me,” said Epaphos, “but if I must die, I’d rather be killed by you. That’s the Tungsten Kid out there. There might be a few runes stupid enough to use achrom in their… Continue reading Words 1-12-2015
Development diaries, 1-9-2015: I chose the paint color for the room with this in mind
Today has been horribly slow. At 11:30, I’m 800 words behind, which is not so bad in light of a quota of 21,000 on the week… but I would finish them if I could keep my eyes open. I literally can’t, not for fiction. And I have nothing to say about the day’s process. Walking… Continue reading Development diaries, 1-9-2015: I chose the paint color for the room with this in mind
Words 1-9-2015
There was no edge to Souktown that Esker could discern, only a slow decay; the crumbling foundations were less and less overbuilt, the lights weaker and less dense, the bright polyglot signs fading more and more into the ruined indecipherable glyphs of the ancients. With the dark came quiet, but not a calm quiet. Coiled… Continue reading Words 1-9-2015
Development diaries, 1-8-2015: A Weird West novel of manners
Today felt really slow—4300 words between 9:00 and 3:10, with an hour break for some kettlebell swings and lunch. So, actually, about 5:10 clocked for about 800 words/hour, which I think is about where I’ve been. I think I can do better, but it probably would have involved planning more beforehand (cue chiding from @ABEhrhardt).… Continue reading Development diaries, 1-8-2015: A Weird West novel of manners
Words 1-8-2015
“Rise for the Chorister,” said the gun. “Is that you?” said Esker. “Because that woman coming toward us—well, it’s not that I’m against standing for a lady, but I find you more persuasive at this time.” Esker felt a jerk upward on his collar and stood. The gun’s hand couldn’t quite follow him all the… Continue reading Words 1-8-2015
Development diaries, 1-7-2015: The possibility that Esker’s mind is damaged
Good day. I worked more or less straight from 8:15-12:45, minus at least five pee breaks, and dialed in about 3800 words. From 12:45-1:45 I exercised and ate, and by 2:15 I’d hit my quota of 4200 words. I was afraid I’d be distracted, staying home to work, but this may be the most focused… Continue reading Development diaries, 1-7-2015: The possibility that Esker’s mind is damaged