‘Up Above’ would have been an interesting novel for me to have written, twenty years ago. Oh, well, I was kind of busy at the time. Besides, twenty years ago I wasn’t as good a writer.
Category: Patreon
Chapter 11, Part 3 of THE BOLD MARAUDER is up!
I put up the proof copy of DARK HISTORY on Patreon.
Dark History should be available there if you have a paid subscription. I’m going to give it another look-see tonight or tomorrow and then put it up on DriveThruRPG. Lemme know the typos I missed. I know that I missed some, because you always do. By now it doesn’t even bother me.
Patreon Microfiction: Keep Your Distance.
Alas for the hero of ‘Keep Your Distance,’ humanity can understand aliens that hate them. Humanity can understand aliens that love them. What it has difficulty grasping is the idea that there may be aliens who simply couldn’t care less.
The September Patreon stuff is up!
Huzzah. Short story is only three thousand words, because I realized I needed to work out who those guys actually were. I have a better feel for them, now.
Behold!
- Short Story: Deadlime. A Fermi Resolution story! I have thoughts on what these guys might do.
- RPG Material: Resurgence, Part Five: Problems. This may be the last one of this batch.
Snippet the Last, DEADLIME.
Actually, writing a ‘mere’ three thousand words had its points. Less BS, more getting to the action. Will contemplate. I got more stories to tell of these two if you like them.
Moving through woods that used to be an Old American ‘suburb’ was always odd. After hundreds of years, a lot of roads were inexplicably still there. The ones that weren’t left behind grassy paths that were only now starting to sprout trees. The path they were on was one of the latter, and the only thing that bothered the two men was the way it left them with slight rises on either side.
Both men instinctively knew how the way to track monsters was to follow your nose. There was just something about the way unnatural creatures smelled that couldn’t be scoured away, or covered up. And everybody knew the Universal Dominion to (and too close to) the west — easily the biggest monster-maker on the continent — didn’t even try to get rid of the smell. They liked it when people got a whiff of evil on the breeze. That made regular folks afraid, and fear was one of the Dominion’s best tools.
Which was one reason why Oxamn and Nat went after the hodag without really even thinking about it. Monster-killing was what fighters did. Besides, if the damn thing were breeding spawn it’d just make sense to kill it now, before the problem got too big for two swordsmen.
Patreon Microfiction: Rationalization.
Yeah, ‘Rationalization’ works as a title on several levels. You gotta feel at least a little bad for that entity, though. The situation is obviously not optimal, only nobody involved and making dumb decisions particularly wants it fixed. They just want somebody to blame. We’ve all been there.
Patreon Microfiction: A Stellar Aesthetic.
One of the things about makes me sad about not being physically immortal is that I’m going to miss out on what happens to interstellar spaceships once they get cheap enough for the hobbyists to play around with them. The universe of “A Stellar Aesthetic” is full of them. It’s always these incredibly old dudes with a blowtorch, a cigar, and no protective gear, too. You encounter a guy like that working on your ship, you’d be bizarrely comforted by the sight…
09/15/2024 Snippet, THE LAST DAYS OF UNHOLY TOLEDO.
It’s turning into the last night.
“Alas, the Fane is spelled against earthquakes,” the Monsignor said with some humor. “Also fire, flood, lightning, and acid. The Sea of Iniquity had few friends. It is a shame: setting this place on fire ourselves would at least deny the Dragon-Bitch the pleasure of doing it herself. But, yes, we are almost there. At least I know what we seek has not been discovered.”
“Oh?” asked Nat — then blinked as Maddox laughed. Or came as close to it as one could, in such a miserable place.
“That one I know,” he rumbled. “If it was known, there would be a line.”
The Monsignor gave him a hooded look. “You presume to guess our object?”
“Not aloud, where ears can hear,” the swordsman told him. “Of whatever kind. But what it is, is something that cannot be moved, or you would have, already. From there, yes, I guessed, M… good sir.” He stared at the priest. “Not all who lack magic are fools.”
The Monsignor stared right back. “The greatest fool is the one who brags about his cleverness.” He looked ready to say more, but gathered himself. “No matter. You have guessed correctly, o clever one. ‘Tis hidden by being easily overlooked, and from the incuriosity of those who might stumble across it. And here it is — oh, redemption.”