Quietly rewriting Sector Bomb

Sector Bomb is, under another title, at present, a big fat draft. I love big fat drafts. They’ve got lots of ideas, plenty of editing and ‘text grunt work’ – tons of stuff that needs improvement I can’t even see yet. Unfortunately I wrote it from the wrong perspective. That’s the lesson planning teaches you.

How do I know that? Technically this is a story that needs fleshing out, the conflict is concerned with the environment, and the narrative doesn’t reflect that. It’s not the worst problem to have, because switching from first person to third limited omniscient (my favorite) is not only a treat, but it’s what I need to do.

Buddy is too gentle, too narrow due to his nature, and relies heavily on others to shed light on him. He’s one of my dark skinned characters, and I’ll say it now; he’s not black. He’s got his own issues, but as Aaran says “He’s a good kid.”

The re-writing is being done ‘on the back burner’ as I like to call it, and so I do other stuff in the meantime. It means I’m delaying the chapter by chapter release until I’ve got it all started. Concept covers indicated to me that narrative changes need to happen … thankfully it’s all there. No samples, as I normally would, since this new work has to get all the attention.

What about Bold Curves: I’ve changed most of the story titles and Ahead on Machined Shoulders is in the mill. I’d like to be through the first draft of that by the end of next week, so soon after it should appear on Wattpad. It involves a character who does things no one else can, so I feel it necessary to give it the right time to percolate.

Ah, hey, before I sign off, here’s a sample from We Met Haisha:

Sonata was recovering from toxin freeze. I wasn’t happy about it, but I always got upset, even it if wasn’t my fault. Which it wasn’t. Sonata isn’t the strong type – she’s an android, like me, but not a strong one. She’s fast, agile and intelligent.
She also recovers half as quickly as I do from exposure to the toxin. I asked Father about it. He was sympathetic, but direct.
“It’s her body type. You can afford to have denser skin due to your body weight and power output.”
I grimaced at him as if that made any sense. “Just because I’m a robot doesn’t meant I get the … oh. That makes sense.”
He reached up and tousled my hair, which I immediately smoothed back into place with a frown. His words weren’t consoling. I moped around for several days until she was able to start verbally brow beating me about it again. I didn’t apologize for being so mopey, and she didn’t make me.
I guess she understood.
Lady Vanadyl was up and around, but brooding. What about, she wouldn’t say. I asked, too. It wasn’t the usual concern about Windshifter, Lady Sarle, or Grendier, Mishan, or even Ayani. Garen was off on some hunter-gatherer thing, Akai was working, and Winter was offside, visiting Esuna on Talon Colony. That left Natali.
“It’s not your business, pipsqueak,” she growled, not giving me the benefit of eye contact.
“Everything’s my business. I don’t have anything else to do.”
She looked at me as if I’d said something sarcastic, or wry, but knew better. I don’t treat Aaran like that as a matter of respect. Her right arm twitched mechanically and she sighed, letting it drop at her side.
“You need to rescue a friend of mine. I’ve not wanted to ask you because every time Sonata gets exposed you gloom and doom the place up,” she admitted finally. “Sarle’s getting more crysolen. If you go now the weather should hold.”
“Who’re we rescuing?” chimed Sonata’s voice from the corridor. I looked at her. She was already dressed for the trip.
“The only survivor of the Northumberlund Ark. I just got a message from her, so you’d better hurry.”

Read the rest at Wattpad.

hastypixels
hastypixels

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