I'm going to take a crack at the iterative/interactive writing model. I'm working on several stories for the Machine of Death project, which is my first actual attempt at writing fiction for publication. I've had the occasional technical article show up in some places like NewsForge. As you might imagine, I'm have some trepidation about it. Since I'm already concerned about that particular experiment, I see no reason to not expand this to incorporating this into another experiment- namely, Oort-Cloud.
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God
The Church of Logitech was an enormous building, built of huge stone blocks with buttresses plunging great depths into the water on all sides. Antony stood in his dirty suit at the end of the bridge, with his hand on the door. The huge dark oak doors were closed, but there was a smaller entrance cut out of the right hand door that was open. Even knowing that it'd been built with some of his money, it was hard not to be intimidated. He breathed deeply, summoned up his outrage, and pushed on the door.
So my first real attempt at a Science Fiction story. If nothing else, I had a lot of fun writing it!
The ending is flat-out terrible. One of these days I'll give the story a proper finish, maybe something with zombies. That said, I love the rest of the story, so give it a read and lemme know what you think.
MS. GALAHAN AND HER CARDBOARD SHACK
By J. Alexander Jerusalem
Mary Galahan lived in a rickety shack by the ocean.
[picture of shack with ocean]
The shack was built from pieces of cardboard, plastic bags, and other things that Mary found in the City. The City was LA and Mary Galahan was one of LA's people.
'For the Love of a Woman' is pretty close to final draft. I am opening it up for commentary here before doing the final polish rewrite.
. . .
He barged into my office without even knocking, the door bouncing off a bookcase and rebounding hard enough to send him staggering for a second. Startled, I jumped out of my seat and spun to face skinny, balding little Michael Swanson, as angry as I have ever seen a man get.
“You did it to Joseph! Didn’t you?”
'The Seed' is a short story I wrote a long time ago and published on the web last year, basically to serve as commentary in a blog discussion of God and the Singularity.
. . .
April showers bring May flowers; sometimes they bring darker things as well...