Progress Update

Since it’s been a week: A quick update.

The writing is going very well. I’m writing a lot and I’m very happy with what I’m writing and I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s not an oncoming train. Barring the implosion of a frontal lobe or two, I’ll be done in the next two or three days. I’ve told Patrick that if I don’t have it to him on Monday, I’ll probably shoot myself. So that’s where things are at the moment.

That’s all I’m going to say at the moment; I’ll have more to say about the book and the writing in the traditional postmortem entry.

Back into it —

28 Comments on “Progress Update”

  1. That is, I want you posting your traditional post-mortem entry, and not another member of your family. Though your cat’s view could be interesting.

  2. “…if I don’t have it to him on Monday, I’ll probably shoot myself.”

    Seems like a waste of a golden opportunity. Why not auction off — for charity, of course — chances to publicly Taser you*? Something to think about!

    * Bro.

  3. Carol Elaine – Spend my days being creative with acting stuff & cleaning up after animals for money. Spend my evenings cleaning cat puke for free. 'Tis a glamorous life.
    Carol Elaine

    I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s not an oncoming train.

    I used this exact phrase a couple of days ago – it’s a good one, I must admit.

    Good luck with the rest of the book!

  4. Blather Limiter ON.

    Blather Limiter ON.

    Blather Limiter ON!

    Dammit, this button doesn’t seem to be working.

  5. Shooting yourself would, of course, void the massive insurance policy that Tor likely has taken out on you. It would be much more fair to Patrick and the folks at Tor to arrange for an “accident” (like, say, Ghlaghghee falling on your head) that would allow them to recoup their investment (although I’m assuming they’d still fall back on their contingency plan of having Laurell K. Hamilton churn out the remainder of the book based on your notes).

    Then again, finishing the book would probably be even simpler for everyone involved. Ghlaghghee included.

  6. I’m seeing a great prank w/ a blank gun, a couple of liters of Karo syrup w/ red dye #5, and a web cam. *

    *Safety Notice: Do Not Try This At Home. Even blanks can kill you! Just ask Brandon Lee.

  7. coo1b1ue – Vermont – I'm a software engineer within the aerospace industry as well as a father of four (mostly) grown children, one of which served in Iraq (OIF2) as a combat medic.
    Frank

    You have two frontal lobes?

  8. What Shawn said. Now!

    Of course, you know, you just jinxed yourself. Try the salt over the shoulders, spin widdershins thrice and spit solution.

  9. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, on Safari

    Can’t wait!

    Hey, what about the –

    Oh, dang! He got away!

  10. So why can’t you tell the editor that John Scalvi has almost completed the book, and it would be submitted post hoc. Didn’t that work for Mark Twain, George Eliot, and others who had nom de plumes?

  11. I’ve told Patrick that if I don’t have it to him on Monday, I’ll probably shoot myself.

    I don’t remember you telling me that. I can probably wait for an ARC though.

  12. Unfocused raises a very good point. It’s not much of a threat if you end up shooting yourself with a squirt gun or a bottle of mustard.

    Uh, not that I’m advocating that you take any drastic actions. You do realize the chances of you becoming famous after your death are slim, right?

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