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The Rotundo World Tour


ConStellation 9
Lincoln, NE
April 20-22

WorldCon 76
San Jose, CA
August 16-20

MileHiCon 50
Denver, CO
October 19-21

Watch this space for updates!

Posts Tagged ‘progress reports’

Progress Report, in which I keep good company

Still inching along with Petra Released.  Magic Meter says so:

I could whine about this, but really, minuscule progress is certainly better than none at all.  And if it turns out that I finish this thing right around the time George R.R. Martin turns in the last installment of the Song of Ice and Fire saga . . . hey, at least I’ll be in good company.  So that’s something.

Your snippet:

Emma braced herself inwardly, said, “I have an alternate suggestion.”

The council turned to her as one.

Though seated, she felt momentary vertigo, as if a giant fissure had opened at her feet.  She pushed forward with what she had been rehearsing for the past two hours:  “Without the platforms, we might want to consider whether an armed conflict is . . . strategically worthwhile.”

Eyebrows raised around the room.  Cromberg gaped.  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

Write Club update:  A tier one bounced from Flash Fiction Online.  Response time, 14 days.


Current Music: "The Unforgiven III"--Metallica

Progress Report, in which I compare my novel to a plant, and praise the writing gods for their wisdom

One trip to WorldCon and a few baby steps later, Magic Meter has this to say about Petra Rising:

Which isn’t at all impressive.

The good news is that chapter 3 is done.  Also, right at the end of last night’s writing session, I discovered that a certain random bit of information from Petra Released is going to be a factor in this novel.  I had no idea when I wrote it, several years ago, that it was going to resolve a certain plot point in a future volume.  Just one of those random gifts from the writing gods, I guess.  I’m not sure I deserve gifts from the writing gods at this juncture, but who am I to question their wisdom?

Anyway, it’s encouraging.  This story has a lot of life in it yet, despite my neglect of it.  In that, the novel is a bit like the philodendron by my desk at my day job.  It just won’t die.  I swear, I could spray that plant with Roundup and it would still grow.  So let it be with Petra Rising.

Your snippet:

Purgatory’s admin building—a kind of town hall, she supposed—nestled near the bunker, built on the remains of command center that dated back to the settlement’s earliest days, when it had been an experimental prison camp.  It was a simple, one-story structure of wood and repurposed concrete and steel.  The paint on the walls, made from native plant pigments, was wearing thin, revealing the patchwork of building materials beneath.  A few gouges showed where shrapnel from the explosion had hit, but at least the fire hadn’t reached this far—a small comfort.

It could have been worse, Emma kept telling herself, though she had a hard time believing it.

WorldCon was a great time, by the way.  Potentially very interesting developments on the professional front, but it’s too early to go into that yet.

Write Club updates:

Tier one bounces from Betwixt and IGMS.  Response times,  24 and 55 days, respectively.

And a tier two bounce from Nameless. Response time, 407 days (!).

All praise the writing gods.  Onward.

Current Music: "Your Own Worst Enemy"--Bruce Springsteen

Progress Report, in which steps are taken

The horse and I took a few baby steps last week.  And so Petra Rising proceeds.  Really, really slowly, but it proceeds. Here’s Magic Meter:

Baby steps, man.  Baby steps.

On the plus side, I broke 10K words.  So that’s something.

Your snippet:

Allons said, “Do you know what today is?”

Ferson tensed, as if Allons had just sprung a pop quiz on him.  In the desolation of Farside, it was easy to lose track of days.  He considered a lighthearted response, decided against it.  Humor would probably not play well at the moment.  He figured simple honesty would be his best option.  “No.  Some special occasion?”

Allons snorted.  “Yeah, you could say that.”  He reached for one of the bottles, but only stroked the side of it.  “Real special occasion, Boll.  It’s ten years to the day that we attacked Mainland.”

“Oh.  Jesus.”  Ferson dropped his gaze.  At least he understood Allons’s dark mood now.  It wasn’t the kind of anniversary anyone in New Cassea was likely to celebrate.  “Ten years.”

“Yeah.  I keep track of this shit.  Someone has to.”

No updates for Write Club.

Giddy-up.  Or something like that.

Current Music: "Deify"--Disturbed