I wanted to dedicate a post to a specific aspect of writing science fiction: writing aliens. Or, as the title more accurately asserts, failing to write aliens.
August has ended, it's Labor Day weekend, and autumn will be upon us before we know it, which means that I am starting to feel some urgency to finish Blood Magic.
Sandra Day O’Connor’s life is a thought-provoking story in its own right, and takes place in the context of fascinating decisions and occurrences that have shaped and continue to shape the world in which we live. I’m glad that I made an exception to my twenty five year rule for First.
Surprisingly, this was a challenging episode to write. Going into it, I thought it would be an easy one: the plot is straightforward, there’s plenty to write about it, and we get to see our new Guardcaptain in action.
Considering my general temperament and proclivities in other aspects of my life, you might expect me to be an outliner. Except…I’m not. Not at all.
Compared to the past two weeks, my word count this week was minimal, but I would not call it a poor writing week. Rather, my attentions were turned more towards revisions than new content.
I took a course for which this book served as a kind of textbook, which I loved in theory, but found very difficult in practice.
His specific claim, “this finding led to the idea that ACSS2 could be involved in unwanted memory formation,” was what set off my internal alarm bells.
This week doesn't quite compare to last week in sheer word count, but that doesn't mean I failed to be productive.
It starts and ends with an utterly outlandish premise, that a chunk of the Earth should be scooped up by a comet without anyone hardly noticing, and then that it should be returned, again without anyone hardly noticing.