Moe Lane's Blog, page 643
November 5, 2021
NaNoWriMo, Day 5: 1,320/23,280.
Under the circumstances, I score this as a win.
Patreon!“All right,” I groused, “so he hates you so much he doesn’t even want the pleasure of annoying you in person. But why me? I don’t know a damned thing about software piracy, and I don’t think I’ve ever run over the Adjudication Council’s dog.”
Maki checked a strap, then tightened it further. “I don’t know, Pam. Maybe because you’ve been on One-Eighteen the longest? You’re an old hand by now.”
“Yeah, but it’s only been five years — hold on, is that really the longest anybody’s been here?”
“Yeah, I looked it up. You got here fifteen months before Nur did, three years before me. And nobody stays here more than four years. Didn’t you notice the bonus on your renewal contract?”
“No.” Actually, at the time I had thought it was pretty high, but I had decided that if they wanted to give me extra easy money, well, I wasn’t their accountant. “Why is there so much turnover? This planet’s a dream to live on.”
“And that’s a good thing?” Maki asked, with a crooked grin. “I’ve had dreams I was happy to wake up from.”
Oh! Sorry. Today’s my wedding anniversary.
I was also dealing with the book signing tomorrow and trying to deal with the first day of the new marking period, so the day’s been fairly hectic. And more so, the rest of this weekend. So I’m a bit behind on stuff right now, although I have some hopes of making wordcount later tonight.
November 4, 2021
In the E-mail: Blood, Oil and Love (Combined Operations Book 2)
I thought Dorothy Grant’s Blood, Oil and Love (Combined Operations Book 2) was a direct sequel to her book Going Ballistic, but it’s just set in the same universe and on the same planet. But that’s all right; it’s a good book anyway. And the price is right, too! Check it out.
Tweet of the Day, This Piranha Story Sounds Pretty Fishy To Me edition.
Yes, I have brought shame to my ancestors.
Whenever you think you’re having a bad day, just remember, someone (somewhere) is probably having a worse one…
— Union Free Radio
Man eaten by piranhas after jumping into lake to escape bees https://t.co/lJoeiPeQVy(@WorkPlaceRpt) November 5, 2021
Two days until my book signing at Curmudgeon Books!
Reminder:
November 6, 2021, 1 to 5 PM.
Curmudgeon Books
Marley Station Mall 7900 Ritchie Highway
Glen Burnie, Maryland 21061
I will be signing copies of MORGAN BAROD and DECISIONS, so feel free to stop on by! It’s a bookstore! Those are fun!
#commissionearned
NaNoWriMo, Day 4: 2250/21960.
Powered through!
Patreon!But don’t think I wasn’t busy. Oh, no. I discovered that I was going to be meeting daily with the Redacted’s colonist liaison. I was a little shocked to discover that the Redacted even had assigned someone to that job, since it implied that they gave a damn about avoiding giving offense. But then I actually met Lt. Commander Burcu Nowak — in what I guess is kind of my office, even? — and I realized that they didn’t.
How to explain? Well, for starters she was actually of colonist descent herself. Only she was from Bolivar. Liaising with a settlement run by a Jeffersonian corporation. And — look, not every Bolivarian sneers at Jeffersonians, yes. They don’t all sniff and stage-whisper maniacal hayseeds when they see us, just like we don’t mutter butt-kissing proles under our breath when we see them. That’s stereotyping, that is. It’s unfair.
But it was also accurate, when it came to Nowak. She wore her Council uniform with ferocious severity, every stripe and medal at exactly the regulation angle. I am better than you, that uniform almost screamed at me. I am part of something bigger than you will ever be.
Am I projecting? Absolutely not: the first words out of her mouth were in the same vein. “Assisting the Council is now your biggest priority, Tanaka,” she told me. “The sooner you understand this, the easier it will be for you.”
Clearly, this required diplomacy. “Piss off, Burcu.”
‘Kiss Me.’ (Creepypasta)
Found this today on a Facebook Call of Cthulhu group, and it is indeed a very clever… oh, watch it.
November 3, 2021
NaNoWriMo 2021, Day 3: 630/19,710.
Today was a rough day. Not enough sleep and too much indulgence, the day before. There’s a reason why I’m retired.
Patreon!I understand that my ancestors had a leisurely approach to mental shock and potential trauma, not to mention an indulgent attitude towards letting people freak out in response. It sounds nice. Unfortunately, in the modern era we just don’t have time for luxuries like that; a pill for neutralizing the extra-strength funny brain chemicals now coursing through my vein, another pill to make me sleep like a log, and priority attention at my next psych session, and I would be ready to go. Which was just fine with me, at least after the two pills had done their magic. I had real work to do.
Everyone I saw were subdued the next day, because it’s never fun when a coworker goes space-happy, but at least Adam hadn’t killed anybody. Besides, he was now in cryosleep. That was the ultimate reassurance; not even the space-happy can bust out of that.
All of which meant I had to get back to work. I did at least take the morning kind of easy, which I thought was fair. Even if what had happened was just life on the Tomb Worlds, it was still an injury. And nobody would expect me to run a marathon after I had twisted an ankle.
Tweet of the Day, NOOOOOO Not The Ogre Minis! edition.
This was no doubt a deliberate attempt by Steve Jackson Games to start a financially lucrative panic.
We're having a MELTDOWN. Literally. Metal Ogre minis are on sale now until December 1, or until they sell out. After that, they are gone forever, melted into a metallic mass. Get them while you can! -HShttps://t.co/TOJkFpMSEB pic.twitter.com/EPe1umfmXK
— Steve Jackson Games (@SJGames) November 3, 2021
Needless to say, it worked.
