Well, I got my 2000+ words in this morning before 9 AM. (I just hope I didn't open myself up to too many trolls.) #writing #IAmWriting #blogging
Now I can do what I really NEED to get done today: packing my truck for 10 days working on the boat, mostly in dry dock. There is so much to do by month-end. #boating
I looked across at my partner as the latest ad for some soapy ran on the TV.
"How do they really expect people to buy into those stories? I mean the whole skeeviness of that thing with that guy and the woman he was dating being his adopted out daughter? And his son running the local chip shop as a front for a drug ring? Beth, why are you looking at me like that?"
Beth sighed. "Dearest, you really don't get out much do you? The house next door? You remember those sirens last week?"
"Sort of. I was working on the new server deployment."
"That was the police arresting Joe from Joe's Fish and Chips. For trafficking. And then the arresting sargent recognised Emma - or rather Chloe as it turned out - and Joe's father, Harry - from old family photos."
I stared at her.
"You know I write, don't you?"
"Well, yes, I mean we did meet at a book signing."
"Books don't bring in the money. TV scripts, on the other hand... And this street has always got some sort of drama."
""What about the aliens?"
"Oh, number 8. They do make a lovely fruit salad, don't they?"
3,500 words so far today. That was in less than 3 hours. Again, a lot of what I "wrote" had already been written in my blog. I edited yesterday's new content and inserted more. #writing #IAmWriting
The last thing I wrote about was our day trip to St Louis, MO. I managed to include both of these photos from Gateway Arch. #travel #tourism
Returning to the present, and Tannis.
After Londry left, Tannis reflected on what she'd just been told. It had been less than 24 hours since she was what? Captured? That describes things best. In that time the Varans had uncovered a planet-wide conspiracy, and lost a brave young man - probably the first ground military to have died in this conflict if everything matched up.
So what about the Varan Intelligence? Who were they. She looked at the console. "Well, they said I had free use of it..."
Turning it back on, and locating the search facility, her fingers tapped in 'Military Intelligence History'. Her eyes widened when an extensive article came up, and then started to read.
After a couple of hours, Tannis sat back. So Intel had originally been ship-board security. That was interesting. They morphed into Intel after a separate group took on the job on-planet after the plagues. Reading between the lines, the group had tried to become the main military force, but were knocked back for being too valuable as they were.
Unfortunately the records had little about the history of ShipSec prior to departure from the failed colony. Which was also interesting. Clearly their history had been carefully managed.
The Cerian Intel group was very tight-knit as well. And - when had they been established? Thinking back, Tannis was certain that had never come up. She could say when the Biological Survey was set up, or the Space Command, or any one of a dozen other bodies, but not Intel. And somehow everyone just overlooked it.
"If they followed the same path as the Varan group, they had been shipboard security, with access to all areas of the ship." Saying it out loud somehow made it all the more real. "And that would include engineering." One more step. "So it is likely that they caused the ship to crash!"
She picked up the communicator. "Madam Londry?"
"Speaking."
"It is Tannis. I was looking at some history, and I think Intel caused both our ships to crash."
"Ah. How did you do that?"
"Looking at the history of Intel. There are some gaps that fit the theory."
"We came to the same conclusion shortly after you left us. A family history was our guide."
"It goes further."
"Indeed?"
"I think they were behind the failure of the original colony."
"That also seemed likely to us."
"Madam, who are these people?"
"I don't know. Yet. But it is likely the group originated on Old Earth."
"I wonder what became of the other colonies. We can't have been the only one, were we?"
"No, I don't think we were. As for what became of the others, I suppose we'll have to come up with a way to find out. And for that to happen, we need this ridiculous war to end."
#CerianAndVaranWar #Milsf #SF #SciFi #IAmWriting
The full work in progress: https://rdmasters.lympago.com/p/cerian-and-varan-war-story-in.html
It had been sixteen long years since Joyful Finder had been home. Given the changes she'd seen even while growing up, she imagined it would have changed even more in the time she'd been away.
Dives Swiftly watched her hands move over the controls as her little ship emerged back into normal space about a day out from her home, and then pecked the radio scanner speaker control.
There was a burst of static, and then words - in her own language! A weather report for the jungle regions of the north-west. They must have succeeded in building satellite launchers. That at least would give raiders a little bit of pause.
Her little ship would not count for much in a fight, but what Joy carried was far more important. Twelve of those sixteen years away had been spent doing postal runs. Living almost constantly in a ship that had, really, only two components - a FTL engine, and massive computer stores. Such a life featured many long periods of doing nothing. And so she'd filled it with study - learning everything she could about kickstarting industry.
Her people had made great strides in the years since her ancestors had made a family, but there were two things that would allow them to fight effectively. The first was fusion power. Small, portable, and powerful fusion power. The second was gravitic control. With those two it was possible to build defence ships that could fight on equal terms with most raiders.
This was what she was bringing home.
Dives Swiftly pecked another control and whistled. That sounded like air traffic control. She'd call in soon.
As a teenager, Joy had looked back at her ancestor's journals. Lorn had been surprised at the depth of scientific knowledge that her adopted world had, given its largely agrarian appearance. In the two hundred years since the elders had decided to implement much of that knowledge. Now Joy would be adding to it.
Picking up the mic, she transmitted "Shaman's Home ATC, this is Scout Ship Lorndottire, Joyful Finder commanding. I am on approach to the planet, ETA to low orbit is twenty three hours."
It would be a good five to ten minutes before a reply came in.
"We'll be home soon. And you'll have a chance to hunt proper food!"
She got a whistle, and a strong sense of focus formed in her mind.
The radio crackled to life. "Shaman's Home ATC, this is Scout Ship Chorus, Charlie Fischer commanding. I am on approach to the planet, ETA to low orbit 24 hours." There was a pause. "Hello there, Lorndottire! Fancy meeting you here."
There was a sudden sense of humour coming from Dives Swiftly.
Glaring at her companion "Charlie? What are you doing here?"
"Did you think I was going to let you disappear off without me? I've been chasing you for the last fifteen systems!"
Joy smiled, and then looked back at the bird busily preening. "You knew, didn't you?" Dives looked up as if to say "Who me?", and went back to preening.
Back at work on my book this morning. I managed to get 4,200 words into the manuscript, but a lot of that was edited text I'd taken from existing blog posts. I suspect that the manuscript is going very long and I'll have to go back and edit some of the darlings out. But for now, the main thing is filling in the outline to get the first draft done.
#IAmWriting #writing… (1/2)
I got another 1700 words written this evening. I'm now finished with the first pass of the Prologue. The boat is in Chicago, my companion is on board, and we're ready to start. I'll get started on Chapter 1 tomorrow.
Photo shows my boat being lowered into the Calumet River in south Chicago on October 11, 2022.
Coming up for air. I feel a little burned out from today's #writing session and think I should take a break. I might get back to it later. I was shooting for 3,000 words and only managed 2,766. Close enough? Maybe.
Today I wrote about my shakedown cruises in Sept 2022 and the arrangements to get the boat shipped to Chicago with a marine hauler in Oct. I think 1500 words will cover the last part part of this prologue and get my readers to Chicago with us. #IAmWriting… (1/2)
Got a ton of small chores done, got the cat off the deck, got my water glass full. I'm ready to get some work done. If I can work uninterrupted until noon, I will probably get as much written as I did the other day, which was over 6,000 words.
Tuning out for a while. See you at lunchtime!
If you plan on selling your books for $2.99 each, you can't afford better quality work. But if that's the case, you also don't have the right to complain about the quality you're getting. You get what you pay for.
My books will cost more than that just to print. But I think the level of professionalism I put into my work should also be reflected in the level of professionalism put into the printing. I don't expect to hear any complaints about print quality. #IAmWriting #writing (2/2)
I just knocked out another 1500 words. I'm really enjoying the #writing, especially the challenge of shortening up a story that spans more than two years. I think I'm doing a decent job, too. It'll be interesting to see what the reviewers have to say. #IAmWriting
I think 5300 words is a respectible amount progress for a half day of #writing. The Introduction is done and I'm about 2/3 done with the Prelude, which covers everything before I start my trip. I'm enjoying this a lot more than I thought I would. In a way, it's like writing a really, really long blog post. #IAmWriting
The new two-monitor setup is working out well for writing. I put my manuscript on one screen and windows for my research materials on the other. Those materials include blog posts that will be partially incorporated in the book, a list of my stops along the way, a web browser window for looking things up, and my photo library for pulling out photos I may include. As long as I can stay focused, I can be productive.
#IAmWriting… (2/3)
In the matter of customs. There are few that affect outsiders. But should you be within the city when it moves, you will be considered a local, and will be expected to adhere to the customs. If you do not, you will be given a chance, at which time the custom you have breached will be explained to you "as you are new". Repeated failure to follow the same custom once it is explained, will see you politely, if firmly escorted to the edge of the city, and told never to return.
How the city folk tell that a Banished One has returned has never been clear, but know they do. And they will be less polite with each attempt to return.
Of the customs a new citizen is expected to take part in, the most important takes place over the course of the week following a move. In this, all citizens are expected to pay a visit to the Temple, and to seek direction for their lives in the new place. For many, life will be unchanged, but some will be called to a new profession, and sometimes even to the Council, the Guard, or the Keepers. If someone is a part of one of these bodies, many will return to either their old lives, to turn to a new one after a single shift. A few will remain for several shifts.
And what are these three bodies?
The Council decides upon court cases, and upon the nature of civic works and similar matters that affect the City as a whole.
The Guard are just that - the people charged with maintaining the peace and dealing with criminal investigations.
The Keepers are the most revered of the three. They are the ones who implement the plans of the Council, and keep the City presentable. Some will be architects, some labourers, and some arborists. Whatever their role, they maintain the City, and it is the most common place for former members of the Council to be directed to.
At this point, dear readers, I am certain that you are asking yourself "What of the author of this? Were they Banished?" Nothing could be further from the truth! I was a visitor, that is true, as a young and ambitious student I came to Earnston. I did not leave for forty years. But my calling as a scholar demanded that I write for the wider world. To do so I would have to leave the City. Hence, I said my goodbyes and left all my friends to write this record. If I were to return, I would be welcomed with open arms.
Thus also it is often the way of the traders, who come, stay a while, and then travel again. But they almost always return, as I suspect I myself will, once this is complete.
Two blog posts in two days. I'm getting my word counts in, but not on the right projects. 
So why would one choose to visit such a place? Knowing that you might awaken in some distant part of the world, far removed from your own people, and perhaps changed beyond recognition by them?
There are many reasons one might choose this path. Fugitives might seek a new life, explorers wishing to seek new lands - both of these might hope to arrive when the city moves.
And yet there are others - the city continues, and persists, and as such has many records and a grand library - so many scholars might be tempted to risk their careers to visit. Traders, seeking the output of the city's manufacturies might visit, for the profit may be worth the risk. Or even to bring goods that they would trade after a move - that too might be a motive.
And three times in recent history there are those who sought to bring it under their dominion. In each case to their eternal, if brief, regret. For it is an easy city to bring under siege. The outer wall offers no defence. But the inner wall is mighty, and will withstand many months of battle. Not that they have needed to.
And why not? Because the gods of Earnston love their city, at least that is the way it seems. For once the besieging army is settled in their ranks, and their war machines deployed, that night the city will move. The handful that were wise enough to shelter for the night in a farmer's cottage survive, the rest are destroyed, for the city will have moved somewhere fatally inhospitable that night.
So again, I say, beware of the Great City of Earnston. Beware of it as one would be wary of a cliff edge. Not as something that seeks your doom, but as a natural hazard, no different to a risky ford. The potential rewards are great, as are the risks.
Within the City the greatest building the is The Temple of The Great Goddess and All the Gods. Within the many gods of the City are portrayed as parts of the Great Goddess - and all are worshipped there. No one god is regarded as more or less than another, any more than you could call your left or right hand greater. Each has a role, and is worshipped for it. And just because I write "gods", do not think for a moment that the Great Goddess is the only female in the pantheon. There are many goddesses, gods, and others besides. The Great Goddess simply contains them all. Worship of her is considerably more abstract as a result. But do not think that these gods are like those of other places. When you worship in the Temple, the god you are giving glory to will be there in person. Death, Fertility, Wisdom, Learning, and all the others, will appear if they are celebrated. They may choose to bestow a gift or curse, or may simply observe. But the gifts and curses may not be what you think, so be sincere, but try not to attract too much attention to yourself.
As for the laws of the city, they are less rigid than in most places - they must be to allow for the changes that occur. Raising a hand against another (unless agreed to or in defence), not gaining permission from another when interacting with them, failing to keep to the intent of a contract - all these are overseen by the judges and courts of the city, who are themselves overseen by the god of Justice. But things like opening times, or the colour of one's roof? They will change naturally according to the place the city is in. However, if you are judged to be guilty of a crime, you will not be punished by the city's judges. Instead, you will be taken to the Temple, and presented to Justice, who will then curse or bless you as is appropriate to your crime. And yes, I did say 'bless' as well as 'curse', for the courts are not infallible, and if an innocent is brought before Justice, they will be rewarded in accordance to the harm bestowed upon them.
So beware, travellers, if you should visit Earnston. Do not stay the night unless you wish to risk awakening in a new form, do not walk the streets at night, and obey the handful of laws that the city demands.
Histories should be recorded by those who have experienced them. To that end, I write of the Great City Earnston, lest some traveller visit that wonder without proper precautions.
"Why write of a place that all know of?", I hear you ask. The reason is that while all have heard of the place, few know the details of of it, and this I seek to correct. As such, I beg of you, my readers, to pay attention to my words, so that you are not caught unawares.
The Great City is not known as such by its inhabitants. To them it is "Town" or "Earnston" if they are being formal. It is a city defined by its walls. There is the central wall, and the outer wall. The central wall encompasses the city proper, while the outer surrounds the farmlands. The outer wall is such that even a small child could step over it - but it is unbroken and made of a single stone. The inner wall is made of blocks of granite and basalt and stands six men high, and is four men laying down deep at the base.
Within the outer walls are the city's farm lands, divided by groves of trees. These are tended by contract, with the contracts being renewed on every shift. As such no farmer has but one career, they all have had - and will again - other callings.
The reason for this peculiar arrangement is the same as the reason for Earnston's fame - and the reason to beware of it. For the city moves. Not through the labours of the peoples, but through some great magic that to this day remains unknown.
Every so often - as little as three months, or as much as five years apart - the city will, overnight, vanish and reappear elsewhere. The layout of the city will be unchanged, but the topography will alter to fit the place it arrives at. So that which once was uphill, might now be downhill. And it is not just the city that changes - the inhabitants are likewise subtly changed to be comfortable in their new environment. Atop a mountain range, their lungs increase; in a desert, their skin darkens; the bottom of the sea, they awaken with gills.
But! And this is one of the greatest warnings I can give - such changes only affect those asleep in their beds, or in the employ of the city! If you are walking the streets at night, you will not partake of the changes, and this can be fatal to you.
Joyful Finder was not feeling a lot of joy at what she had found. Neither was Dives Swiftly, her hunting bird companion.
The Scout training base had been OK. She'd even made some friends amongst the many peoples that made up the service. But now she'd been given her first assignment. And it was not one that impressed her.
Postal service.
Yes, it was an essential service, and one that the highly independent Scouts were well prepared to provide, but bouncing back and forth between two systems for the next few years was not going to help her get anywhere near home.
And for Dives Swiftly it was going to be horrible. Even knowing that, the fierce bird was not going to leave Joy to her own devices. Who knew what sort of trouble she could get into without Dives' beak and claws? Dives knew that she had been a major factor in Joy's academic success. Even the other students had noticed the stern mothering the bird directed at her human.
But, for now, they were being shipped like cargo to their home for the next few years. Every three months they'd get a few days break, but it was going to be a long time before they got to move to another assignment.
--------
Their little postal courier was surprisingly roomy - not enough space for Dives to hunt in, but at least she'd be able to fly some. And it was relatively new - only a few years old. But there was only her cabin and the bridge really. Oh, there were access ways and such in the engineering area, but not somewhere someone could live for a week or more. They were going to be on their own.
Joy shook herself, and got settled. The data banks would be filling already with transmissions from the world below - and from other ships in the area. Very few of these would be for the world she was going to, most would be sent to the courier waiting for her arrival, and then to another, and another, until the messages reached their destinations.
Meantime, when she was not piloting, Joy would be studying, learning more to take back to her people. And saving funds to purchase equipment.
The radio came to life "Courier Gamma Whiskey Echo Three Seven Niner, confirm receipt."
She checked the logs, and replied "Tender Charlie Gamma Echo Five One One, I confirm receipt."
"Very good, you are clear for departure."
"Thank you Charlie Gamma, see you in a fortnight."
Joy checked the navigation instruments, the star drive status, and the rest of the checklist. Then she hit a button and the world turned inside out and back again.
There, they were on their way. In a week they'd appear at their destination, and a tender would come out to them with fuel and fresh supplies, and then she'd make the same journey backwards.
The exciting life of the postie.
@lislegaard @andypiper @jennybm I was just thinking that you could replace the word "musician" with "writer", and the word "music" with "text." same questions. 
#IAmWriting #writing
