• Story Excerpts

    Overlapped ours just enough

    Of alternate realities and scenes that will never make it into my novel:

    <An experiment,I repeat, taken aback, <Based on what happened to you when you were a child. He wants you to try and make yourself disappear?

    <That’s right.

    <Is it safe?

    <He’s invented probes that should make the transition with me, allowing him to monitor me at all times.

    <Transition?

    <He thinks I phased myself into another dimension, one that overlapped ours just enough for me to see and hear everything.

    <So it’s not safe,I go back to the question he glossed over.

    <Well… There are definite risks.

    <Such as your getting stuck in whatever place you will yourself to,I state bluntly. <Why do you want to do this?

    <He thinks it may be related to what happened to the Lyril.

    I sit down, almost lurch down, into the chair. 

  • The Way of Attrition concept image
    Story Excerpts

    The Way of Attrition: Chapter Four

    Today I’m posting Chapter 4 of my novel. Other chapters are here:
    Chapter 1  
    Chapter 2
    Chapter 3


    Chapter 4

    My alarm rouses me at 0530 for food duty. Rolling out of bed, I mentally probe the household and am relieved to discover Carson, his essence a rippling pool that is at once refreshing and tinged with grief.

    <Eyan?> he questions, fatigue etched into the two syllables of my name.

    <Sorry,> I apologize, <I should have noced. I wanted to make sure you were back. Didn’t mean to bug you.>

    <No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to worry you.>

    <We have food duty today,> I inform him hesitantly. <We’re supposed to be in the kitchens at 0630.>

    A pause.

    Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. He’s new and I could go without him, say he’s mourning the loss of his amarid. No one would question it.

    <Okay,> he agrees simply.

    Zantia, the elderly woman in charge of food services, welcomes me back to Headquarters with a warm smile, shaking Carson’s hand when I introduce them. The first thing she asks of her fifty or so Tuesday helpers is that we divide ourselves into groups: chefs, assistants, and deliverers.

    I find myself explaining this to Carson proactively. <Chefs need no guidance, assistants are those who feel comfortable cooking under supervision, and deliverers, well…that’s pretty self-explanatory.>

    <I’d like to sign up for chef duty!> Carson exclaims with such exuberance that my chuckle is shared by several neighbors.

    Assistant is the role I typically

  • Random Ramblings,  Story Excerpts

    Just part of it!

    I’ve spent a chunk of this evening trying to find a scene I remembered writing in relation to my novel. It was never meant to be in the novel itself – it was an exercise in solidifying the pre-novel lives of some of my secondary characters.

    All I can find it an outline of the scene and this piece of dialogue:

    “Davonte was a rascal. She got me to make my own first present from her.”

    “Just part of it!”

    What does it say about how long you’ve been working on a novel that you may have confused planning to write a scene with actually writing it?

  • Story Excerpts

    A subdued companion

    I’ve probably mentioned four million and two times that my novel has changed a lot (I may be exaggerating, but only a little). Here’s another example, back from when Davonte was Dante and a man:

    Dante’s anger used to be explosive, a force as large as his build. Now he carries it, a subdued companion that is always present but rarely speaks by itself.

  • Random Ramblings,  Story Excerpts

    By 1035 I have a headache

    In my endeavor to show and not tell, the part of my novel that covers this is a lot longer now, even though Danielle’s been cut out entirely.

    At 0930 the jury unanimously decides to convict. At 1002, an APB is put out for Denielle’s arrest. At 1031 I learn about the WhoDidYouVoteFor project. By 1035 I have a headache.

    I’m conflicted by the idea that it’s better to “show” when, as a writer, every piece of fiction I write is a story I’m telling. I think one real mark of a talented writer is knowing what to show and what to tell.

  • Story Excerpts

    Or don’t see them as sentients at all

    This is a continuation of this First Sentence:

    “I think you underestimate the extent to which some sentients don’t care about other sentients — or don’t see them as sentients at all.”

    “But I wouldn’t do that to an animal…to any creature that can feel pain and fear.”

    In case it’s not obvious from so little context, sentients = sentient creatures/beings.