Moe Lane's Blog, page 63
March 29, 2025
Snippet the Last, LE BETE.
And thank God. I mean, it needs to be smoothed out, but that can be another day.
…
The first sound he heard was the rattling of iron links, endlessly repeating, as the waterwheel outside turned an improvised gear train.The links were heavy, but rusted. Indeed, the smell of rust was heavy in the air, here. As were the smells of pain, fear, and despair. Joseph Fouché was not proud of the circumstances of his life and actions that had left him with such an intimate knowledge of those scents, but the Revolution sometimes required a stern hand from its servants.
As if to mock him, the second sound he heard was keening. The kind of keening that did not come from human throats.
There was enough moonlight from the holes in the roof (and enough dull red glow from the braziers, and their banked coals) to reveal three small figures, each hooded, and bound to a table at wrists, ankles, and waist. And they were small: so slight, you might at first mistake them for human children. But the arms and legs were subtly wrong, and Joseph was instantly certain that if he took off their hoods the heads would be even more inhuman. “What is this?” he hissed, in lieu of invoking a deity he thought wholly imaginary.
“They are fee, Citizen Représentant. Surely you recognize them?”
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March 28, 2025
So, I went to a Korean BBQ / Hot Pot place for my birthday.
The Irish pub looked a bit too packed, so we decided to try one of the five other restaurants in the strip mall. The BBQ place won! I was feeling adventurous.
Good stuff. Good stuff, including the 13% alcohol raspberry bokbunja. Basically, I am feeling no pain and will probably retire early for the evening.
…And God bless us, everyone.
Ben Fleuter’s got a couple of comic anthologies up at his store.
Yes, yes, I need a store. Although what I actually need is a business manager, who can make stores and other things happen. Anyway: Ben’s got some new small-print anthologies up at his store. Check ’em out before they get sold out, and so forth.
Today’s my birthday! Here’s what to get me.
This is a great list, because most of it involves you getting something, too.
Buy my books. Straightforward. You get my books. (Link here.)Buy my gaming material. Just as straightforward. You get my gaming supplements. (Link here.)Preorder my worldbook. A little less straightforward. You get my worldbook, when it’s done. (Link here.)Back my Patreon. About as straightforward as the one above. For a buck you get short stories, RPG material, and microfiction. (Link here.)Sign up for my Substack monthly newsletter. No actual goodies, but it’s a good way to keep track of what I’m doing. (Link here.)Review my books. Also no direct rewards, but the more reviews I get, the more Amazon will show me to people. (Link here.)Buy something on Amazon. It does help, but use this link.Hope this helps!
Moe Lane
PS: If you’ve already done this: thank you.
#commissionearned
March 27, 2025
‘She’s A Mystery To Me.’
She’s A Mystery To Me, Roy Orbison
#commissionearned
The SNOW WHITE Pitch Meeting.
There’s a certain amount of intrinsic contempt in this particular Pitch Meeting. It feels like Ryan George didn’t think SNOW WHITE deserved anything more than contempt. That Disney was insulting us all by actually seeing it through.
Also: while not objectively true, this comment is objectively hilarious.
Birthday weekend! Light posting!
I’m gonna watch movies and go to restaurants and ramble around with my wife at the county fairgrounds and eat an ice cream cake. It will be a lot of fun, and I will enjoy it. In the meantime, you can celebrate my birthday tomorrow by either grabbing TALES FROM THE FERMI RESOLUTION, or by pre-ordering THE FERMI RESOLUTION WORLDBOOK. Or both! Both is good.
PS: Feel free to use this Amazon Associate affiliate link, too!
#commissionearned
03/27/2025 Snippet, LE BETE.
Not a productive day today in the writing world, but a pretty good one from the perspective of doing the dry cleaning and teaching my children valuable life skills. So, a wash.
…
The way he got past the witch-hunters’ guards worried him obscurely. In Joseph’s view, if a place merited guards, it also merited serious guards. Not ones that did not even need to be glared into indifference. He had been expecting fanatics, and had been prepared to talk his way past them; instead he was confronted by two country yokels halfway between drunk, and insensate. They might not have even noticed he was there, from the way they slumped against their trees and their pikes equally.
(A part of him grated his teeth at the pikes. The enemy always seemed to have enough guns. Joseph understood the value of the guillotine — but in his considered opinion, Citizen Carnot’s murderer had died far too quickly.)
Inside was worse. The Germans clearly took the position that anyone who managed to pass their so-perfect guards must belong, so nobody gave him a second look as he navigated his way through the haphazard rows of tents. The sloppiness offended him greatly — or was he just offended by Germans generally? It was difficult to decide.
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