Moe Lane's Blog, page 474
October 27, 2022
Looks like I need to push back GHOSTS ON AN ALIEN WIND’s publishing by a month.
It’s not a financial thing, fortunately (the money pools should be refilled by then, no worries). It’s a “this book needs about 10K more words than I expected” thing. I’m going to aim for a new target of 90K, which isn’t really hard but I’ll need time to get in draft shape. So I’ll be integrating what I have for the rest of the month, ‘take time off’ to write the new Tom Vargas novel for NaNoWriMo*, then probably spend December getting the rest of GHOSTS ON AN ALIEN WIND ready for my first reader.
A book a year ain’t bad, anyway.
*New working title: BANSHEE BEACH.
#commissionearned
Tweet of the Day, Scenes From The Class Struggle In A McRib Assembly Video edition.
This video approaches the Line: yes, I admit it. But I’m letting it slide because McRib. Besides, the video also demonstrates just how much effort and planning goes into getting you your fast food sandwich. The Scotsman has had his stopwatch and time-motion analyses out for decades, folks; and by now you can really see the results. The tasty, tasty results.
Can this even be considered food? A McDonald’s worker decides to reveal how a McRib is made. pic.twitter.com/yFraU7JGhp
— Mike Sington (@MikeSington) October 25, 2022
Fun fact: the guy who made the video likely has more valuable life skills than the guy who put it on YouTube.
Via @JoePCunningham.
October 26, 2022
‘The Irish Ballad.’
#commissionearned
Just had to scrap the entire last third of UNHOLY ANGLES.
It just wasn’t flowing right. The story’s fine, but just not for this thing. Alas. Alack. Back to the drawing board…
10/26/2022 Revisions, GHOST ON AN ALIEN WIND: 75100/80000
Gotta start tinkering with what’s left, make it all fit. This book might end up being a little longer after all.
Patreon!I waited until the two had left, before turning to Gina. She put up her hands. “Not a chance, Pam. I’m a doctor, not a witch. And I’m not a witch doctor, either.”
She’d used that line before, usually at parties, and despite the fact that technically she was a nurse (and thus not a witch nurse). This time, I didn’t laugh along. “I can’t believe there’s nothing vibro-medtech can’t do for him.”
Technically, Gina laughed at that. “Oh, I’m sure that there is. I just don’t know how to do it. None of us do.” She gave another one of those bitter laughs. “All this gear of ours? The salvaged stuff, and the monkey copies? We can turn them on, we can point them at our patients, and we can push the buttons and make the healing come out. Can we do ‘how?’ Sure. I can do tons of ‘how.’ But it’s been decades of work, and we’re still trying to make our way to ‘why.’ I’d call myself a witch after all, except that a witch would at least understand the underlying theory. There’s nothing we can do for him, except put him on ice.”
Jerry Lee Lewis: still alive.
I know that’s maybe mildly ghoulish, but Jerry Lee Lewis had been reported as having died earlier today. It seemed relevant to note that he has not. Although I suspect the man’s not generally well.
The LOCKWOOD & CO. Teaser Trailer.
Huh. LOCKWOOD & CO doesn’t look half bad. Although it’s apparently for teens…
So, a Bad Thing was announced today.
It’s such a Bad Thing that I don’t even want to write about it, because it’s gonna be a sequel to another Bad Thing. A Bad Thing that I don’t want people to know that I even know about. But it’s better if you know that it’s co… going to show up, so that you’re not surprised. Saddened at the Fall of Mankind, perhaps, but not surprised.
Here’s the link. Click through, if you dare. And may God have mercy on your soul… WAIT! WAIT! If you don’t know anything about what that Bad Thing is a sequel to, I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ: do not look it up.
October 25, 2022
‘Spooky Scary Skeletons.’
#commissionearned
10/25/2022 Snippet, UNHOLY ANGLES.
Getting back to finishing this up. Not quite there yet, but I will be.
Patreon!“So we should take the house with us!” said Jack (or Jill). “Your dad left us that RV in his will, and it was all fixed up before the plague. Our apartment is small, and the rent is too high. We should end our lease, and drive wherever we like and still be under isolation.”
“We would have to get rid of things,” Jill (or Jack) pointed out. “We have too many things for a RV.”
“The Internet says we already have too many things, Jill (or Jack). We should get rid of some of them anyway.”
Did they have too many things? Perhaps. But Jack and Jill also did not have some things that might have held them back. They had no home-place of their own to hold and protect; even before the plague, they only knew their neighbors as friendly nods and doors held open. Their comrades were scattered across the wide world, with the easy bonds of past adventures and old, shared troubles. Their parents had all passed, and both Jack and Jill had had the private, shameful thought that at least none of them had lived to see the plague.
And, of course, they had no children. No sane man or woman would go wandering in an RV with children in tow.
