On returning to a favorite genre for something old-fashioned

Science Fiction remains my all-time favorite story genre. I mostly blame that on being exposed to Star Wars at a very young age, and the choice of books in those years only confirms that.

Like any kid of the 90’s, I discovered Animorphs and became an obsessed reader. I had confirmed my weirdness in the fifth grade among my classmates for knowing these stories better than the St. Michael the Archangel prayer in Religion class (Catholic school for the win!).

Thank you, K.A. Applegate, for giving us all one hell of a story.

In that same year, I also discovered the Star Wars Expanded Universe, with a used and ratty copy of Darksaber.

I don’t care what the younger folks say, THIS is the Darksaber I know!

It was with this novel that I learned that the movies I knew and loved were being given new life, and also about how space battles were fought. I learned that I was intrigued by struggles in deep space, with giant crafts looming over each other and small fighter craft zooming around trying to get an advantage for their side. I learned that I loved the political aspect of opposing sides, and needed stories to give the POV of the antagonist. But mostly, it was giant ships hammering at each other that got my attention.

(Also, this particular story’s premise is hilarious when you think about it, and the climax makes you laugh more than get excited.)

Since then, I’ve always browsed the Science Fiction section of any bookstore I’d come across. When Fantasy was lumped into the same area as Science Fiction, I accepted it. I loved those stories too, so I saw it was an opportunity to stay in my favorite area of the store. I found Old Man’s War by John Scalzi, On Baslisk Station by David Weber, Battlestar Galactica by Glen A. Larson and Robert Thurston, and the grandfather of science fiction literature, Battlefield Earth by L. Ron Hubbard.

I went out looking for science fiction stories and read everything I could get my hands on, back in those days. It was a love, pure and simple, and it’s stayed with me over the years.

So, let’s step into more recent days. We’re on a family/work vacation in Florida, and my wife tells me that I need to have a couple hours to myself in the city. She knows I don’t like crowds and am a introverted nerd, so she tells me the thing that always excites me: “You can go into a bookstore and get whatever you want.”

Pure. Fucking. Heaven.

I did make a few purchases (been wanting to start building my manga collection) but I found out that I could not find the one thing I knew would satisfy my old addiction. I could not find a book series (starting book, at least) that was a good and old-fashioned science fiction. I wanted starship combat, I wanted explosions in the void of space, I wanted Captains and Admirals arguing strategy and having fights with their subordinates over it.

I was denied my fix and that made me twitchy.

Some days later, I was talking with my regular buddy about this situation. He’s pretty understanding about having a particular niche in preferred reading, so he’s a good shoulder to cry on when you can’t find what you want. However, he also knows I’m trying to be an author, so he hits me where it hurts.

“If you can’t find the story you want, why not write it yourself?”

I have to admit, I’m terrified of the concept. Yes, I’d love to see such a story back on the shelves, but I get that it’s not popular these days. But still, he had a point. What if the story idea still had attraction to readers? Could I make such a story worthwhile enough for them to pay for it?

I honestly do not know, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited enough to give it a try.

Time for some short stories!

I know it’s not good to hold on to ideas that don’t make the cut when it comes to publishing, but I want to make one specific argument on keeping rejected stories: they’re just damn fun to write.

I don’t honestly know how to look at a story idea and not have multiple stories attached to the one idea. When I sent out my submissions, I had planned on building them into more than one short story. In one case, I wanted to write a series of short stories that followed a single narrative. But the submissions did not make the cut with the publisher, so they’ve just been sitting in my Documents folders, gathering digital dust.

I do plan on reworking the story ideas into other ideas, but that’s a ways down the line. For now, I just want to enjoy the ideas as they are, and I’d like other people to them. So, I’m adding on to my Story Writing page!

I have one series in particular that I’ve always wanted to work on, plus a few fan-fics that are just fun story ideas to play with. When I finish a chapter or a short story, I’ll put them up here for perusal.

Short stories, novel progress, and notes for next project

It may just be an example of an ADD mind taking a creative twist, but I have been busying myself with short stories and writing notes on other novels instead of just writing the novel. Unfortunately, I had come across a major problem to the story and it forced me to remove a large chunk of the work.

Why, do you ask? Simply put, I had made a decision for the character that she would never make, and continued writing as if the decision were normal. It wasn’t until I had gone nearly two chapters ahead when I noticed that the story wasn’t progressing or fitting with the outline I had done for the book. After thinking about it, I went looking and sure enough, I had made a simple mistake that cost me 9,000 words and three weeks of work. Needless to say, I haven’t been terribly happy with this outcome.

(A polite way of saying I’ve been pissed off about it and trying to figure out how to use ANY of that work.)

While I’ve been going over those pages and comparing them to the outline, I’ve been trying my hand at different writings, if just to keep my brain working properly. On one end, I write with the clear intention of getting paid for my work. I do want to entertain but I also really want to keep putting food on my childrens’ plates. With that in mind, I’ve been coming up with short stories and submitting them. So far, I haven’t had any hits yet, but I’ve received a lot of good criticism on my submissions. Actual critiquing from the editors, not just being ignored or told ‘this doesn’t fit the market right now’.

(It might show my age when my complaint about submissions is being utterly ignored instead of being told ‘no’, but let’s move on)

Writing short stories is some hella-good writing exercise for me. While not published, I’ve mostly written novels. I’m used to thinking my stories at novel-length, so condensing a story to 10,000 words or less? That takes work. There’s so much I want to show in the worlds I create, but if it’s not relevant to the actual story, it has to either be put aside completely or told in such a way that the reader can accept it within their suspension of disbelief. If you’re a short-story professional and you’re reading this, know that I am in utter awe of your abilities.

(Sidenote: No, I will not put my old novels up anywhere for people to read. The last one I wrote was in my early 20s, and it was horrible. Please don’t ask; I can only cringe so much before my face starts hurting.)

On the other end, I’ve been putting my recent education via Deborah Chester’s “Fantasy Fiction Formula” while working on notes for the next projects. While I’d love to have a long-running series of the current project, “Post-World Postmen” could easily be a one-shot novel to be put on the shelves. The other projects could function between 5 and 10 books, if I wrote them well enough and they were picked up. One such project is my latest attempt at writing urban fantasy (one of my favorites because it is very-much-so a genre that I find difficulty writing) and another is a very basic superhero story taken with an odd angle. When Post-World Postmen is finished, I’ll be tackling these stories while begging agents to take my book to the publishers.

Shadowrun Gig 1/12/2060 (Part 2)

We returned to our crew of new shadowrunners as they figure out how to best approach the three targets, and execute their plans.

For that, our Face, James, stepped in with his strategy.

Through his contacts, James found out that Mercedes Aurelia was looking to go into a real estate deal with her cousins, possibly as a front for their own criminal purposes beyond the activities of the Krewe of Aurelia. This does mean that James owes his Fixer a rather big favor. Our Face was able to reach out to the targets and pose as a real estate agent interested in selling them potential property, which Mercedes, while skeptical, went through her own verification system to see if this elf was genuine.

Which, of course, he was. His contacts saw to planting the right markers to make him genuine within the Matrix’s Yellow Pages. She was a bit worried about introducing James to her cousins, but the Face managed to convince her to meet him for coffee at Cafe Beignet on Royal Street. Taking their patio seats on the sidewalk, the two begin negotiating a sale that only one believes is genuine.

But our other ‘runners weren’t sitting idle. WD40, in perfect rigger form, scoped out a plausible reason to have his truck in the area of the hit beforehand. Using his actual job as cover, he asked his boss if there were any vehicles near Washington Square in need of hauling off to the ‘yard. There was one, a dilapidated Civic that would be good for scrap and little else. With his observation drone nesting nearby, WD40 set out to have his truck modified in order to haul off the wreck and give passengers a quick spot to hide, just in case. In a manner of hours, he had welded a small compartment into the rear of the Ares Roadmaster that would hide his companions, so long as nobody stared too long at the sheet of metal.

Bass, our sharpshooter, sought out and purchased the items he’d need to guarantee safe and quick getaways for the crew, scouted out the area and found his perfect camp-spot, and had his sniper rifle in place for the shooting. A couple flashbangs were purchased that could, hopefully, distract their targets and observing civilians from the potential murders enough to do the deed and escape.

The night before the gig would go down, the crew went out for a socializing round of drinks. During this, James’ Fixer, Guy Walsh, made a rare appearance in public with someone in tow, an ork with reddish skin who seemed out of sorts but knew exactly where everyone around him was in relation to his position. We were introduced to Jameson “Jim” Wiley, a transplant from Alabama in need of ‘work’. Within seconds, he was given the moniker “Tide” (thanks to his prolific use of the phrase “Roll Tide” that amused and annoyed everyone in his presence) and hired for the gig.

Tide, it turns out, was a Street Samurai, and absolutely gifted in the Arts of War and Combat.

The next day, our crew with their newest addition sets out to meet their targets. WD40 and James set up the flashbang grenades into distracting traps at the corners of the park in the morning, while Bass takes his position with his rifle. Tide assigns himself to James as a public bodyguard for appearances.

The hit goes down at 9:30 PM, in Washington Square, just as the Market Day on the Frenchman St. block starts winding down. The three Aurelias meet with James, as Mercedes shows pride in finding a decent real estate agent within Crescent City. Blink seems skeptical but trusts his cousin, while Colum, the elf of the family and a mute, stares hard at Tide. Why would he be here, he wondered. Before he could sign to his cousins, Mercedes took the initiative and approached James to begin negotiations.

It happened quickly.

Bass waited for the three to line up and took his shot. Mercedes received a high-powered round to her temple and dropped like a stone. Colum took the same round in the lung, and started to draw his own pistol. Tide stepped forward and drew his sword, making one strike upon escaping the sheath. In true samurai fashion, Colum fell beneath the blade. Bass adjusted his aim and struck Blink, while James drew and fired at the same time. During this attack, WD40 triggered the flashbangs at the corners, blocking lines of sight and distracting civilians and targets alike.

Within ten seconds, three people were dead and three other people were running for Elysian Fields Ave. James and Tide planted the evidence they were instructed to do so and made to leave, while Bass broke down his rifle and descended from his rooftop onto Dauphine St.

The crew almost did not make it to the extraction point, a back-alley parking lot across the double-lane street. A pair of NOPD patrolmen were walking their beats nearby and rushed to investigate, spotting the three ‘runners as they attempted to escape. WD40, in his truck, observed from his drone and triggered the last flashbang, which was closest to the police. As the light and sound distracted the two patrolmen, our three ‘runners made it to WD40’s truck, and our crew escaped, flashing through back streets and making for one of Bass’ safehouses in the nearby neighborhood (913 St. Roche) and laid low for the rest of the night.

The following day, after reaching out to the Johnson that hired them, the group was given the other half of the money promised to them. Tide was given a portion of the money, as a welcome member of the party.

By Wednesday, January 14, 2060, our shadowrunners are back at their homes and reading the Times-Picayune that details the murder that occured at Washington Square and how the investigation is ongoing with little leads as to who committed the crime, but talks about the items left at the scene.

Shadowun Gig 1/12/2060

Beginning the campaign with a tutorial session so as to let the players grow comfortable with the game mechanics, we’re at January 12, 2060 in New Orleans.
The Crescent City has continued to grow and thrive, despite the setbacks brought on by politics and weather. The Levy Breaking of 2019 is distant memory but remains as a point of pride within the culture. The Troll and Ork populations were pushed into the Lower Ninth Ward as humanity continues its policies of prejudice, and have turned the district into a hub for the two peoples. Elves flaunt their beauty in the French Quarter while Dwarves and Humans mingle throughout Garden and Middle City.
The 3 players who begin the campaign are:
-Donnie “WD40” Bordelon is a Human with a penchant for all things mechanical, working with one of the major scrapyards just outside the city. His VCR (Vehicle Control Rig) was installed in order for him to better manage the large vehicles necessary in the scrap yard, but he’s tinkered with his own vehicles and drones to accept his mental commands.
-Maynard Ulysses “Bass” Basse, a Dwarf with a talent for finding good hiding spots and exploiting them with a rifle, he is the one who can look at a map and tell you precisely where the sniper is going to be or should be.
-“James”, an Elf who plays his cards close to his chest and keeps several up his sleeve, is one of those folks who knows practically everybody but nobody can ever place him. A skilled wordsmith who knows precisely who to call if you need a cache of bullets, an invitation to a Mardi Gras Ball, or a body disappeared.

The gig (the NOLA term for a shadowrun) starts as all three are contacted by their Fixers, each believing them to be suited for a job that is floating about. The three meet the Johnson (the person who is negotiating the terms of the gig) and each other at the second story of a bar down in the French Quarter. The Johnson is flanked by two bodyguards who are stark contrasts to their boss: a Human dressed in an all-white suit to their traditional black. The Johnson speaks hautily in his Russian-accented English, which spikes the interests of James and Bass.

The gig is simple: He wants three people dead. What complicates the gig is that he wants the hit to go down in broad daylight, made as public as possible, and for items of evidence to be planted around the area. The hit is supposed to go down in Washington Square Park in two days’ time, when all three targets will be at the park. There is a market day happening along Frenchman St., just a block away from the park, and the streets will be crowded with foot traffic.

The team begins their planning. They ask around for info on who the three targets are, why they’d be at the park, and why their deaths would be important for the Johnson. They’ve pieced together the facts over several hours. The targets are all young people with status in the Krewe of Aurelius, who controls the Lower Ninth Ward district and oversees the local gangs in the area for the benefit of the Lamigo Family. Rumors were uncovered about the rival Koronev Family, who had established themselves within the northern districts, wanting to establish footholds outside their territory. The evidence meant to be left behind all point to a rival Krewe of Aurelius known as the Krewe of Mait’rede, who has bad blood with Aurelius.

The three plan out the hit, while still investigating. James find out that the targets are all cousins who frequently visit each other, named Blink, Mercedes, and Colum. Bass learns that the only person within Koronev who has been pushing for the territory expansion is a young upstart named Markev “Maestro” Koronev. WD40 figures out the kind of security the targets are employing for the meet and uses his drones as countermeasures while planning the getaway.

How will this group of Shadowrunners execute their plans and the targets? We will find out on Saturday night (October 3, 2020) at 9PM CST.

Being Non-Political in a Partisan Society

                Throughout the day, I am bombarded with political biases, be they right or left, Democrat or Republican, or occasionally a third-party. I will be asked questions and expected to give an opinion. For the most part, these questions come from family or friends, and I feel perfectly fine with answering those questions. Sometimes, I will see something on the social media platforms I visit that are politically motivated, and I will share my opinion on the subject.

                There are moments, however, when I must be careful about having a public opinion about something political. In those times, I must be ‘non-political’ during a time that my country is heavily partisan and vocal about its politics.

                I should note here, thanks to a friends’ observations: this does not mean I am apolitical or do not care about issues. I don’t believe you can be apolitical in our current climate and still be a functioning human being. I care very strongly about my politics. I am also under heavy restrictions where they are concerned.

                I must explain, every time I must refrain from giving an opinion: I must follow the rules of the Hatch Act.

                To provide context: The Hatch Act of 1939 prevents federal officials from endorsing or voicing politically biased opinions when performing their duties as a federal official. Specifically, it applies to members of the executive branch, but broadly, it applies to people who work for an organization with government backing. If you’re in uniform, you cannot give your opinion on political matters, because you’d be giving an endorsement of a bias. This, in turn, would mean that the organization you represent (through your uniform) also endorses your bias.

                Sounds a bit crazy but trust me: litigation can get that in-depth. I was a Union Steward for two years; I’ve used this exact kind of legal language in my grievance negotiations.

                Now, when I am not on-duty and not in uniform, I can speak freely. I usually do and gleefully dive into the discussions that grow from such moments. I am very vocal about my politics, so long as I do not represent my organization.

                (You’ll notice how careful I am about naming my workplace. It doesn’t take much effort to know who I work for but refraining from naming them in this essay gives me the loophole I need to talk about these things.)

                I have to be very patient with customers during working hours to provide facts without seeming politically biased. This is harder than it sounds, since giving such information can, to the customers, put me within a particular camp without me saying anything that is actually biased to one side or another.

                To give you more context, let’s look at the COVID-19 pandemic. As a federal official, I explain to customers approaching me that we must, as per CDC regulations, maintain social distance and wear masks. I have mine at-the-ready for such an occasion. One of my customers told me that I was an idiot for following such regulations, and that I had to be a “dirty liberal nutcase” for doing so.

                I’m used to getting yelled at during my job. People aren’t happy about a lot of things that have to do with my job, and I’m generally quiet and passive about these outbursts. It’s generally best to just let the customer air their grievance so I can thoroughly and logically address their problems. But when this happens, my nerves go on ‘high-alert’ and I make sure to phrase my responses accordingly. As a member of the executive branch, I’m held to a higher standard and all the bullshit that comes with such. It’d be all too easy for me to begin explaining something, have it sound biased, and that customer to have their phone out, recording.

                If that were to happen, I’d be up for discipline at the least, or fired outright. There was a moment when, in a public setting after work, I was in uniform and talking politics with a close friend, and a bystander took out their phone as if to record when I told them, bluntly, to not do so. It is the sort of situation that can make someone a bit paranoid.

                Now, as my organization is drawn further into the media spotlight, I am asked more often to give my opinion on political matters. These questions are earnest. My opinion is honestly sought after, so I don’t fault the person asking. But it puts me in a precarious situation, or as I’ve said to friends, I’m dealing with the existential crisis that is my job becoming political while I am restricted from being so.

                I want to talk about the issues that surround my day-job, folks. I have concerns and worries. Unfortunately, I am held to a higher standard than others and must follow the rules of the Hatch Act. I always tell people “ask me when I’m out of uniform or not representing my organization”. I would gladly dive into the discussions at those times, but only then.

                Until this extremely partisan time is beyond us, I must maintain a non-political stance. I can only ask for understanding during this time.

Adding Content and Figuring out How This Works

The more I delve into building this thing, the more I’m reminded that I was never given an education in basic tech work. One day I’ll finally have the skills I need, but for the moment it’s trial-and-error and a lot of “BUTWHYDON’TYOUDOTHAT?”

I’ve been wanting to start putting up a few of my stories and campaign ideas up here for a while. Occasionally I have essays or concepts that I want to explore, but after so many years of adding to the files, I’ve been wanting to share some of these ideas.

The fun part to figuring out how to share these ideas? I’m a organization freak and I like knowing that if I put a story up as a page, it’s visible and easy to find. So far, that’s proving problematic.

But as I continue to learn how to build this website, I’ll invite you to read the first chapter of a Shadowrun story I’ve always wanted to pursue.

https://wp.me/PbJpCI-4N

If I finally figure out what I’m doing, I’ll put up more stories, but for the moment this is my “I’ve been writing in one world too much, I need a good distraction” project.