As I was logging on to the interwebs this morning I received four notifications of new posts on the ‘ol web site. Traffic here hasn’t been as heavy lately — probably because I haven’t been on the site as often — so I was pleased. Except that all the posts were from trendily mis-spelled names, replies to old posts, and each was a single line of word salad encouragement rife with typos.
In short, it was spam, all from an IP in St. Petersburg. I still am awaiting some kind of explanation about how that nonsense helps anyone. Do these people get PAID to create spam? They must. And what does anyone get out of it? The mind boggles.
Right. So here’s what I MEANT to say today. Two interesting things are happening that have nothing to do with any of the problems and dilemmas we’re currently riding out in our republic. Read More
I figured she was probably right, because there were a lot of messages by this point, so I sat down for about 45 minutes yesterday and slowly got rid of everything. And a funny thing happened. As I worked my way back in time I started realizing that there could be a message from my friend Kris there. It probably wouldn’t be anything more than “hey, sorry I missed you, call me.” But at least I’d hear his voice, something that can’t ever happen again. I don’t think I have any videos of us together.
But there was nothing. A whole lot of messages and appointments I’d long since listened to or attended, but nothing from Kris. He’s been gone for about a year now, and I suppose I should be used to the fact. But not yet. Maybe never.
With the first novel of my new series now in my editor’s hands, I started to work revising my rough draft of book 2 — only to get a brainstorm last week about how to address some lingering concerns I had.
I figured out how to fix up the smallest point of view arc, consisting of three chapters, to make them far more compelling, and then made the adjustments to the next to last chapter necessitated by changes to those three. And now I’m feeling more confident about the work in progress than I have in any book since The Bones of the Old Ones.
With my insomnia fading I’m having dreams again, and I experienced a really enjoyable one just this last night. I fell in with a group of people making a low-budget sword-and-sorcery movie and got to write the script for the thing. It was all just a lark, done in spare time rather than through a movie studio, but done with professionalism as well. I suppose it was inspired in part by the loving attention and can-do attitude with which the Star Trek Continues people craft their episodes, because me and the dream people were even talking about STC while I dreamt.
Of course, once I woke up, I realized the things in the dream were impossible to do on a small budget in spare time — the sets for the long ship alone, not to mention the filming up of it, would have been astronomical. But man, was it fun coming up with a slightly cheesy but really fun script. In the light of day I don’t even remember what the details were. Probably it didn’t make that much sense.
It was a good time, though, and it was interesting to dream about creating something. Decades ago I had a recurring dream that I’d written a science fiction series. I can still remember what some of the covers looked like…