Hero is a Four Letter Word – Background

For those with me in Write to Publish, here’s the story if you’re unable to find it amidst the deluge of messages since the writing-piece system isn’t working for me:

https://thewritepractice.com/status-update/61033/

For all those interested – a bit of the background behind Hero is a Four Letter Word.

Continue reading Hero is a Four Letter Word – Background

Advertisements

New Projects, New Hopes

Long time, no see, ye loyal few who remain subscribed to this beleaguered bulletin of frippery and faith. I have recently come into gainless employment as the senior editor of an up-and-coming tabletop role-playing game publisher, Darklore Publishing co., and thusly have been occupied with the curating of others’ work in preparation for our May 1st launch date. When our website is nice and refine, I’ll post the link both here and on its own page.

But, I still have my own projects and directives, and in collaboration with the wonderful Write Practice course, “Write to Publish,” (creation of Joe Bunting and Sarah Gribble) I have begun work on a new/old novella and short story assembly with the tentative title, “Hero is a Four Letter Word.” (Set in a certain sci-fi universe of mine for which I lack a decent name.)

I’ll cover the world-building aspects of the universe in another post, but suffice it to say that the 22nd century is no better than those that preceded it, even with faster-than-light travel, commonly-available nuclear power, and cloning (especially cloning). Our hero, Paddy, grows up in the shadow of his father’s dishonor – a deserter who abandoned his post as a system patrolman to save his family, dooming the rest of his colony to destruction at the hands of a band of alien raiders. Living in lawless Free-Space, he must come to terms with the sins of his father – and his own as he becomes intangled in deadly interspecies politics as the human nations wrestle over the fate of the aliens which have entered the political stage.

Hopefully, my pitch will improve.

For my readers of a praying inclination – I would appreciate a prayer for mindfulness. I’ve found myself distracted by petty materiality, old sins, vulgar things which I had thought I should never bother with again. I find it increasingly difficult to compel myself to heed God’s Word, to read and listen, feel, understand, obey, and pray. I know His truth, but my flesh does not obey – and I am guilty for its indiscipline.

But through God, I know all things are possible. By Him I was justified, and in Him shall I be sanctified.

giphy[1]

Amen. 🙂

 

Another Story: Kyrieleis

Sorry about sporadic posts. Exams, projects, papers, and my own lack of self-discipline (or perhaps simply normal discipline that fails to compare to the Roman standards I hold myself to) have all gotten in the way of keeping this regularly updated, as well as writing and generally enjoying life’s other pleasures besides stuffing my face with low quality confectionery.

I was bored, or more accurately, in a frenzied trance induced by Wardruna and my daily ADHD medications (and around 400 grams of sugar), and wrote this piece from start to finish, a short story from the perspective of one of the Syntar, depicted in that other post about them.

With less flapping gums and more content, here it is:

Oh, and if you’re so inclined, I appreciate feedback. It’s by no means required (not that I’d have any way to enforce it; I’m not the CCP), but giving me your thoughts 1) helps me write better stories, 2) inflates my ego that people actually care, and 3) lets me evaluate where this blog is going in terms of audience and content. And 4) makes me very, very happy. And don’t feel afraid to drop links or ask me to visit your blog, being directly impelled to read others’ content is excellent motivation to get out there and see what all everyone else has to offer.

Continue reading Another Story: Kyrieleis

Poetry! Well… Maybe?

This was something I wrote as a culture piece in a indeterminately nearish future grunge sci-fi universe for an obligate carnivore species of seven foot tall metal-scaled horned neo-fascist space viking colonists of a recently deceased empire driven to extermination by a) hubris, b) civil war, c) crapshoot unpredictable sentient robotic war machines, and d) EATING PEOPLE FOR PETTY AMUSEMENT. And their texture.

Continue reading Poetry! Well… Maybe?