Christopher B. Wright's Blog, page 21

The Foe Beneath: Part Two

The Final Wave

“Status report, please.”

Street Ronin is saying please, so CB figures he’s worried about something.

“My bus is about half full,” CB says.

“Same,” Jenny says.

“My four are a little less than that,” Grant says. “The other thirty four are behind me.”

“You still stuck at four?” Agent Hu sounds surprised. “I thought you were back up to five again.”

“Not if a fight’s going to break out,” Grant says. “Which I’m pretty sure is what’s going to happen. Speaking of, what’s up with the new...

The Foe Beneath: Part One

Thorpe Island

There is a moment after the storm passes when the tension eases—almost like an exhalation of breath, as if the island is relaxing into the promise of calm after weathering the winds and pounding rain. The sky still rumbles, but the sound is faint, and light no longer flickers across the sky. The only trace of the storm that remains is the wind, and it, too, is dying away. There is only the sound of surf rolling onto the sand.

And then, there is something new.

Out of the sky, a tr...

Issue 32: The Foe Beneath

Story: Christopher Wright
Cover: Jamie Robertson
Logo: Garth Graham

And Now, a Fight: Writing Combat in Fiction

Note: this article is a repost. It originally appeared, and still exists, as a post on the Pen and Cape Society Website. I'm reposting it here mostly for my own benefit.

When I was in college majoring in Theater one of my professors had a thing about musicals—he didn’t like them. He was very clear on why he didn’t like them: “the story is going along and all of a sudden everything stops, and someone sings for a while, and then the story starts again, until it stops again, because somebody sin...

This Is The Post That Goes Ping

... it lets you know that your author is still alive.

It's been a while since I've, uh... communicated? Other than posting to Twitter, which has become sort of a reflexive habit operating almost purely on muscle memory at this point. So I thought it would be a good idea to mention that I am still here.

Hi. I'm still here.

I'm working on Curveball Issue 32, it's going... slowly, I guess is the word, though it feels like an inadequate word at this point. My hope is that my Patreon subscribers g...

A Trumpet Sounds: Part Five

Robert Thorpe's Office

David is out of shape.

This isn’t a new condition—he’s been out of shape ever since his first concussion—but it’s never been quite this bad. His time on the island took more out of him than he wants to admit.

His sides are burning before he gets anywhere close to the main complex, but he doesn’t dare stop. He can feel the magic getting stronger, an invisible noose slowly tightening, and he knows that they don’t have much time to prepare. He ignores the pain, ignores...

A Trumpet Sounds: Part Four

Thorpe Island Pier

David Bernard sits at the end of the pier, conjuring orbs of darkness as he watches the ocean roll by.

Robert Thorpe’s artificial island is an impressive feat of engineering—in some places it’s indistinguishable from the real thing—but here, at the end of the pier, something is different. He’s not sure if his new connection to Artigenian’s power has altered his senses, or if his knowledge the island is fake is convincing him to doubt what he sees, but he’s half-convinced he...

A Trumpet Sounds: Part Three

Haruspex Analytics

The walls and floor of the long rectangular room are granite. The ceiling is covered in baroque plaster tiles. It is fancy, but empty: no furniture, nothing hanging from the walls. The only door leading into the room is plain, almost shabby. It’s a simple, solid wood door, painted a neutral gray color that is slightly lighter than the granite.

Few Haruspex Analytics employees know this room exists. Fewer still have been inside.

Lights embedded between the baroque tiles flick...

A Trumpet Sounds: Part Two

Haruspex Analytics Situation Room

“Article Thirteen.”

Phyllis Tanner stands in front of Jason, arms folded, her face completely, utterly blank. Simon Yin sits in front of his laptop set up at the long table running down the middle of the Situation Room, and Michelle Lawrence stands, fidgeting nervously by the door. Neither of them look at Jason or Phyllis. Simon pretends to be working, his eyes locked on his laptop screen without actually seeing anything. Michelle plays with the drawstring on...

A Trumpet Sounds: Part One

Haruspex Analytics Boardroom

The Haruspex Analytics boardroom is emptier than it was the day before. The men and women sitting in it don’t know why—not precisely—but they are painfully aware of the rumors.

Each man and woman sitting patiently for the Chairman to arrive has received an unending stream of worried calls from their own underlings about an unusual level of absenteeism all over the building. No part of the employee population has been untouched: every department was reporting that a...