Now What, Deprived of All Reprieve…

… is to Be Done by the Likes of Me Us?

Yeah, crazy title. One of the short-story anthologies I’ve been dipping into is Tiptree’s, and I like her titling.

New short story on the go, while I remain daunted of finishing Burma (for the energy, not the ideas, I suppose). Mid-rant about banking service charges and the desire for revenge, I began thinking of the very scary [to me, since now I know so little about it] subject of “peak oil” (and possible solutions we haven’t necessarily not imagined yet, but which aren’t set up yet anyway). The two things came together with the idea of a personal apocalypse set in the middle of a global Oh Thank F*ck We’re Not Doomed moment. The story is less about the science and tech, and much more about how it feels to be there when it’s working.

I might even finish a draft before I leave for Japan, but it’s so clear in my head, up to a point, anyway, that I needn’t necessarily do so.

UPDATE 5 August:  It looks like a step back that I go from 700 words to 684, but I’ve redrafted the opening and it’s much stronger now. I’ve got the vague plot all there, though I am not sure of the solution my character shall fall upon for his particular dilemmas. I have some inkling, though, of course. Anyway, this story begins harsh and nasty, and I think it shall possible end thusly as well, though, in a different way. Hard not to feel compassion for this poor, messed up guy, even if there is definitely something wrong with him.

N ow shooting for 5000 words, or maybe less. (Hell, maybe even 4000 words. We all know what that means.)

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