(Author's note: The past eighteen months have been Hell on Earth. The fact that I have finished this piece is a sign that some of my burdens are beginning to ease. The backstory is available in the Eighth Adventure, also posted here in my blog.)
This is a good post about writing that I found on io9.
(The Rap on what this is all about is at the end of the post.)
The batshit crazy part is that you have to believe in magic swords. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Call me Guy. Guy–Shi, if you want to be more formal. It’s what I am, and it’s what I do. I’m going to try to tell you the story, but sometimes the story might be telling me…
For purposes of this discussion I must posit the existence of the multiverse. N universes, where n is very large, perhaps even infinite. The problem is, this multiverse is unstable. Very unstable. So what to do?
Maura took a sudden and unexpected turn for the worse not quite two weeks ago. We were able to keep her from suffering too much.
I'll probably just lurk the boards for a while... don't feel too chatty.
Momma told me (after her own mastectomy), 'If there's anything you want to do, get out there and do it, because life is short'. Now I tell this to all of you.
Last night my son asked me, "Why do they call it 'Mobile Suit Gundam'?" I had to think about it...
Dr. Hidekatsu Shibata raised his eyes from the cosmoscope. There was no question about it at all. The Zeon forces had returned, and their attack on the Earth had begun. He nodded once, for this was the moment he had been preparing for nearly all his life.
(Part 5 of ?)
The next day passed uneventfully, though not swiftly. Kevin had a dreadful time paying attention to whatever he was supposed to be doing. He was most definitely not in the moment.
When night came he left his robes with Fiona and made his way down to the water again. He made a wide circle around the pool. Eventually he came to a spot where he could vault over the river, instead of flying. He ducked down and crept from one boulder to another.
Maura had a CT scan Tuesday, and the doc said it was the best he had seen since the whole mess started. The banshee will have to wait a while longer for this one.
Managed to finish an 8k word short yesterday, a mere seven weeks behind my self-imposed deadline. The next one's due in December. Yes, I am procrastinating today. Trying to remember to breathe. Scan time is always freakout time because it takes about a week from the doc asking for a scan to going over the results. *whew*
It looks like my wife's cancer could be terminal. I don't know what's going to happen next.
What I do know is that I can't write if I'm upset or depressed, so I might not be posting for... I dunno.
I've really enjoyed being a part of the community here, it's definitely helped my writing, and it's nice to be among like-minded people.
I hope nothing like this ever happens to you. Take care.
Kevin L. Corridon
(Part 4 of ?)
This was wrong. He couldn’t feel otherwise.
He knew enough about local customs to understand that this activity fell plainly in the category of ‘Angering the Gods’. Lu… water spirits… sickness. Now this. Where did the villagers draw their water? How can we analyze it? Hmm… enormous American tourist starts asking difficult questions…
Brilliant! He could hear Fiona now. And then I suppose you’ll be telling them you’re a superhero! No, she wouldn’t call that keeping a low profile. He resumed his watch.
(Part 1 of ?)
June twenty-first 2007, over the Shackleton range, Antarctica.
He looked out the window again. Still nothing. “How’s the weather?”
“Perfectly dreadful. Forty below and the wind is eighty knots below one thousand feet. Happy Solstice.”
“Back at ya, babe. I think it’s time I let Serenity take over.”
Fiona straightened her seat up and adjusted her harness. “She can see better than we can through this weather.”
Kevin scanned his panel again. “Serenity?”
“Would you take us the rest of the way, please?”