Writer, Your Baby is Ugly: Twitter is Better Than Chores

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Twitter is Better Than Chores

Watching the feed go by this morning, and I see

@Toccata_in_D I'm sure everything is fi- *gets sucked into alternate universe*" It's that kind of Sunday. I knew it.

With no other point of reference, I laugh. I love this. Then I look to see who @Toccata_in_D might be, because I happen to love Bach's Toccata in D Minor (that's the piece the Phantom of the Opera plays.)

@Toccata_in_D is Tacarra Williams, whose lovely photo includes awesome architecture in the background, and whose website is http://vworpvworpvworpthud.tumblr.com .

Before I even looked at the rather cool bit of humor on the site, I almost fell out of my chair over the name.

These are the people with whom I hope to associate, to cheer my mornings and inspire my evening writing.

Thank you all for sharing your wit. I hope to someday be worthy of it. :)

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Bubbler

Science Fiction (Space)
~98k words, Completed
Seeking representation.

Tam is a Hydran who can’t breathe water.

He’s smart, handsome, and noble born. He just wants to make friends and maybe get the girl, but he’s a bubbler. He thinks his father is ashamed of his handicap and he’s stuck in an interstellar fishtank rooming with a standard human who panics over a little drowning.

He hasn’t settled in at Dad’s new assignment before an invasion has him sabotaging a merchanter, suffering prolonged vacuum, saving thousands more than once, and trying to prevent a suicidal rebellion via sign language from the confines of a regeneration tank. He’s killed his dad and lost his bride to be, been separated from his only friend, and if he can’t talk sense into a room full of panicked diplomats, a hundred worlds will be pulled out of orbit to die.

Being almost seventeen is hard.

Hush

Science Fiction (Post-Apocalytpic)
~100k words, Completed
Seeking representation.

Premise: Society has reverted to small forts and homesteaders; corporations have replaced both government and the Balkanized warlords that appear in the anarchy after a cataclysm.
Corp-trained guards protect forts against rabid ghouls and provide armed daycare for the children while adults farm. While protecting one child, one guard discovers a secret that will wreck the civil order.

Lauren Perez protects children from savagery and contagion. Dealing with old fashioned depravity was never in the job description.

Despite martial armature and training, Lauren feels like antiquated furniture kept only to maintain tradition. She’s stationed at a fort no longer plagued by draugs, ghoulish wrecks scorched by light and drawn by sound. Caulfields like Lauren are far from obsolete, yet she’s somehow reduced to day nanny and peacekeeper.

That’s about to change.

High on prosperity and safety, Lauren’s fort requests decreased tithes to the corporate patron that provides trade trains and Caulfields. Draugs assault the fort, dropped nearby as a covert corporate reminder of the need for their vital services. Complacency shattered, Fort Hogan receives a new commander fighting his own demons.

Draug contagion invades the fort and Lauren faces panicked homesteaders, a rising death toll and odd behavior from her lover, the new commander. Children vanish but his orders block investigation. For the first time, Lauren’s instincts disagree with training and protocol.

She disobeys orders and discovers not only one missing child, but the harsh truth of corporate duplicity. Draugs harry her through dark woods and she doesn’t have bullets enough to defend them both. Lauren must choose: survive to bring the explosive secret home, or follow her calling to save the child.

Lauren’s accepted draugs as a part of life; now she must deal with the real monsters.

Cadagar's Justice

Science Fiction (Space)
Work in Progress.

Advocate Lexa hates that Tradition could absolve a nobleman of a witnessed and confessed massacre. Worse is being assigned to his defense.

She cringed when her client, heir apparent to the greatest house on Pellis, testified he’d slaughtered the family of a rival noble house in cold blood, then insisted on summary sentence. This case she couldn’t win has passed up to the highest court because of its explosive nature, yet he remains a hostile witness in his own defense.

She’d anticipated belligerence, not a charming but sad Gallant.

She never expected pity for the murderer, or to believe he should be acquitted. She never thought here, in the Temple of Law, she’d be tangled in interstellar politics and witness assassinations. She didn't expect a finger in the mail.

Pellans had been designed as troops for a war that ended before they were deployed. Twice human size, with teeth, claws, fur and a deadly rage, they’d been assigned en masse to terraform this world, and had developed rigid customs to curtail their warlike natures. The Traditions were not pointless, and he had followed that code to the letter.

Lexa must discover what would drive the ideal noble son to commit the most heinous of all sins, then convince the High Council to spare him against his will, and make the true culprits pay for their crimes.

Writer, Your Baby is Ugly

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Sunday, February 19, 2012

Twitter is Better Than Chores

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