A Story, a Reference, and Snow

Ah snow. It is the worst. The best thing I can say about it is that it is a good excuse to set things on fire. Particularly bits of wood in an enclosed space. One of the best things to do with your bits of wood on fire in an enclosed space is to read by it. Though not too close.  It's fire.

With that in mind I have prepared a short story for you all to read. Even if you don't have a fire raging some where near by you should still read it. But where is it you say? I see no story on this post. Well (I would say back to you if we were sitting next to each other) that's because I use "Jump Breaks" now. Jump Breaks are cool.  They make the post seem smaller and more manageable than it otherwise would be. We'll see if it works. ...

Nothing Here

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Yule Tide Greetings! All of those fun phrases.

Not much to say here, but since I am trying to keep to a schedule, I will post anyway. The re-working of Rain is going smoothly. It flows much better than the earlier version. Even the characters seem more real, which is always a good thing.
I just finished my re-read of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, in order to prepare myself for A Memory of Light. So excited for that book. More excited in fact that I have been for any other book, ever. I'll talk more about that series later, cause I have a lot to say about those (soon to be) 14 books.
But again, for now, not much to say. I'll have more exciting, interesting, and entertaining words for you Thursday, but for now I have some pie that needs eating.

-Me

The Bonzi Method

     One of the best pieces of writing advice I have ever received came from someone who hadn't written anything since highschool. We were talking about art, and the conversation turned towards her current project. She had made this great piece, something she was really proud of, but she was having trouble connecting it with the others of the set. That's when her mentor told her to kill it. "Kill your darlings."
     At first, like I was when she told me this story, shocked at the suggestion. She had worked hard to make something beautiful and now she was supposed to kill it? Crazy talk. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.
     Sometimes, in order to improve in life, you have to destroy what you create. Even if you had wrote the most beautiful paragraph the world has ever read; full of vibrant imagery and colorful characterization,  if it does not fit with the story you have to be willing to kill it. Much like pruning a bonzi tree into the desired shape you have to prune your story, even if that means cutting a few leaves.
     ....And that was a very weird and slightly odd segue into me telling you that have scrapped Rain (Working Title). At least, in it's current form. There were a lot of really nice pieces there, but there was quite a bit of unnecessary structure clogging it as well. I could have tried to re-work what was there, removing parts and adding others, but it just would not have turned out well. So instead I am starting over.
     Not completely from scratch mind you. The story should still be the same (mostly) but it will be much more streamlined, and therefor hopefully much better. I put to many ideas into one story for to work, but after that trial run, now I know what parts I need to make a coherent tale.
     In other good news, due to the massive overhaul of the story, while it is extremely similar to the old story, it also is nothing like it. What that means for you, Dear Reader, is that I can show you the original short story version of Rain that I wrote. I know I just said that I scrapped Rain (Working Title)  for being over complicated and not pretty, but that was the novelization attempt. The short story version does not have those problems. It has it's own, unique, set of issues. I like to think of them as "character traits" myself.
     Either way, look to this space in the coming days for the opening of Rain- A Detective Story. It'l be a grand time.

-Me

On Endings

     Endings. They are important.
     Now that I have blown your mind with that little piece of unheard wisdom, allow me to explain. When a someone experiences your work-be it a book, a movie, a play, a game, anything really- they are making an investment. They are investing the time they could have spent building a house, or saving a kitten, or making dinner, or even just reading another book. They invest in the characters, loving the heroes and hating the villains. They invest in the world that you have built for them. And at the end of that work, they are going to want a return on their investment.
     This comes in many way. That warm fuzzy feeling you get when the guy (or girl) gets the girl (or guy) after fighter for him/her the whole story. That ah! moment when you realize the killer wasn't the butler, but instead it was Colonel Mustard in the Pantry with the Hair Dryer. When the hero, just when all hope is lost, learns the True Meaning of Friendship and is able to stop the evil Wizard from destroying... whatever it is that wizards destroy.
     The reason that this pay off is so important is that your reader has been following your protagonist for who knows how long. The reader has watched him get rejected, or looked with her for clues, or one of a million other possible things. Your reader has, in essence, almost become the main character and they want some gratification before they leave them. A parting gift you could say. Give them something to thank them to coming to your party (the party in this case being your book, or movie or what-have-you), and they'll be more likely to come back over when you invite them again.
How you deliver this gift of investment is entirely up you and your genre. A few clues that seem unimportant, but once the killer is revealed, make it obvious who it was. The growth and maturation of the hero as he goes from Small Town Peasant to Hero of The World. What ever it is the important thing is that you have it there, somewhere. If you don't you can leave your readers feeling cheated or used. Which brings me to an example..... (Warning contains spoilers)
     There was a book I read, it's also a movie now, called, "My Sister's Keeper." Now, don't get me wrong, MSK was a great story about family and the cost of personal freedom and a whole slew of things, and I greatly enjoyed reading it. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't hate it as much as I do now.
     The reason I hate is because it made me care about the characters and their plight. I'm not going to summarize the story, but suffice to say that Anna was suing her parents for medical emancipation, and when she finally one her freedom I wanted to know what Anna was going to do with her new power. Was she going to give her kidney to her dying sister, or would instead hold on to it, and no longer be used as an organ farm. It was the central question to the story. She left the court room to go the hospital, and I turned the page...
     To see that she died in a car crash. (End Spoilers)
     And that's when I started hating the book. I spent all that time worrying about Anna, laughing with her, crying with her. In other words I put a huge investment in Anna and what did I get out of it? Nothing. I felt that I had been robbed of my ending. Robbed of my resolution. Robbed of my investment. If the story had been bad to begin with I would not have cared. My investment would have been small, and it would not have mattered if I did not get anything back. But the fact was, it was a good book, but the ending made it a horrible one.
     The point of that long tangent is simple. Reader's expect a return on investment. If you write a bad story, it won't matter too much if the ending doesn't have a big pay off.They won't care about your story anyway. But if you write a good one-or even an OK one-you better make sure that your ending is perfect. It is the last thing that your readers see of your story. You want to make them feel like they finished with more than when they started. I'm not saying you need to have explosions and fireworks at the end of the story, just a little sign saying "Thank You For Reading"

-Me

Restored (Part 3)

Guten Tag!
Wie geht es dir heute? Hopefully the answer is good, if not great.
Today I bring the conclusion of Restored. There's not much more to say about this tale that I have not already, so I'll just jump right to it. 

The car door opened and Richard stepped out into the cool spring air. The scent of the rain from the night before was still fresh. The memories were equally as fresh. Richard could not help the spring that came to his step as he walked to the lab. He had done what no one else in the history of the human race had done. Well except for a few debatable cases. This will be humanities greatest achievement. All of those things added to his joy, but even all of them together paled next to the true source of his happiness; his daughter was still alive.

When Richard had gotten back with Elizabeth, it was already closer to morning than midnight. He had found Margaret on the bed, tear stains on her cheeks. For a brief moment he had thought of waking her to tell his wife the news, but decided to let her sleep. Soon enough he joined her on the bed, and was lost to the world. Margret’s screams in the morning had woken him better than any alarm clock.

He had rushed out of his room, drawn to his wife’s screams before he was awake enough for his mind fully grasped what had happened. When he saw Margret staring at Elizabeth, it all came rushing back to him. Quickly, he took Margaret back into their bedroom and explained what happened to her. She was a bit shocked, to put it mildly. After he managed to calm down his hysterical wife, Richard went back to the kitchen. He had so much to tell his daughter, so much to say, but she was gone already. It was OK though; Richard now had a lifetime to talk with her.

Somehow, the lab building, normally a sterile, humorless place, now seemed to be the happiest place on earth. Richard walked past the other scientists, startling all of them with his smile as they walked past, lost in their own worlds. It was almost enough to make him laugh. They went on with their own silly projects, oblivious to the fact that the world had changed.

Finally, Richard came to his own lab and threw open the doors saying, “Good morning Jason! Why so glum looking? Sad that you won’t have a goal now that the Nobel is ours?” Richard had expected his partner to be almost more excited about their project than even he was. Instead though Jason seemed extremely worried and sweaty, two things that Jason almost never was.

“Richard, there, there may be a slight problem.”

“What, did you forget the password to the console again?”

“Ha. No, something a bit more important than that,” he scrubbed his hands through his short hair, which, while normally as manicured as a model’s, now seemed to be in serious disarray. Richard’s good mood evaporated like mist in the sun. “I think you should see this.”

Jason walked through their lab and into his second lab, with Richard following close behind. Whereas the two of them ran the lab he shared with Richard almost alone, this one was full of undergrads and graduate students, every last one of them looking sheepish as they stood around, trying their best not to be noticed. Richard was now deeply worried.  They stopped in front of the rat containers as Ben rushed up, wringing his hands.

“I didn't do anything professor, I swear! When I came in today they were like that, you have to believe me. Please don’t fire me, please, please…”

Jason rounded on the undergrad, “Ben get out of here now!” Jason turned to Richard and continued in a calmer, if not calm voice as Ben ran out of the lab, “Ben was right though. We found them like this when we walked in today. All of them were like that, everyone from yesterday.”

“What was like what? Jason you’re not making any sense. What happened?”

In response, his partner pointed to the cages of rats. “There, in the center left cage.”

Fear rising in his throat, Richard peered into the cage, expecting to find the rats that Ben had dropped into the machine dead. A breath that he had not known he was holding left him when he saw the cages inhabitants. The rats were dead true, but that was not surprising considering that these rats looked to be about five years old, a lifetime for a test animal. He took one out and examined it, and then another, and another. Each one displayed the characteristic signs of death by old age.

“These are just some dead old rats Jason. Where are the rats from yesterday, the ones that went into the machine?”

“Richard, those are the rats from yesterday.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and then all at once the tide came surging in. Richard nearly collapsed and would have too if not for the fast hands of Jason. Thoughts sped through his mind faster than Richard could focus on them. Fighting the flood of information, he managed to force out, “Are you sure?”

“You know I am Richard. Don’t you think I checked this as best I could? It’s them, they’re the same ones. Sometime last night they just started to rapidly age. Something is wrong with the machine. It does restore whatever is put inside it, but then it seems to make up for the lost time by the accelerated ageing. It even affected the rest of the fruits that we tried. They are all shriveled and rotten to the core. I am so sorry Richard.”

The torrent of thoughts continued to flood Richard’s mind, Jason’s words merely added to the deluge. Something was changing though. The torrent remained but now it was focused, all flooding into one channel. Regaining his footing, Richard began to run out of the lab.

“Where are you going?” Jason called, worry still painting his face.

Richard ran, not even slowing as he responded, “To find my daughter.”

#

In fifteen minutes, Richard made the half hour drive to Elizabeth’s school. Even that speed was not fast enough however. The squeal of his tires as he pulled into the school parking lot was not enough to mask the sound of the sirens already there. The building was painted in blue and red lights as Richard rushed out of his car, unheeding to the eyes that followed his mad dash up the steps.

Arms grabbed him, trying to restrain him, trying to keep him from his daughter. Those arms were nothing compared to his need to find Elizabeth. Like dry twigs, he broke free of their grasp and continued deeper into the school. Voices called to him, but they might have been the wind. He saw something in the corner of his eye. Turning, Richard saw a sea of white coming towards him, white coated bodies surrounding a white bed. They were rushing out nearly as fast as he was rushing in but the instant they passed time stopped. There, surrounded by the sea of white lay his Elizabeth.

Except, it was not her. Where once her face had been young and beautiful, like something out of the movies, now wrinkles and lines covered it. Her golden silk hair had been replaced by some brittle, pale substitute. Richard reached down to hold her hand, to let his baby know that her father was there, but before he could grab the winkled, liver spotted hand, the white sea moved on, hurrying out of the school.

The blue and red lights slowly faded into the distance while Richard stood there, unmoving. People had gathered around him, speaking at him, touching him. He didn't notice them though. Richard’s mind was already worlds away, back in his lab. He could fix the machine, make the process better, perfect it. He had already brought his daughter back to life once, how hard could it be to do it again?

And that, was Restored. Thanks for bearing with me and reading this drawn out story. Hopefully you enjoyed it. Either way feel free to let me know.
Not all of the stories I write end on such a bleak note. In fact, originally, the story ended with Richard thinking about how he had killed his daughter for a second time. This ending brings to light a bit more of the theme I was going for-which is stated perfectly (like most things) by Micheal Creighton in Jurassic Park.
"...Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."
That idea that the march of progress may be going too fast I find very fascinating. It's something that becomes more and more relevant as technology gets closer and closer to science fiction. It's a strange and amazing world we live in.

-Me

Restored (Part 2)

So, that was a lot of wordage last time. Kind of a huge wall o' text. Which, is never really fun to read. So Instead of putting the second half of the story in one post, I'm dividing it into two. Easier on the eyes, and your mouse wheel.
There's not much more to say in this post... oh that's right. I said I would talk about the Light themes... or Light saga, or whatever it is that call them. Well, those really should have their own posting so you're going to have to wait just a biiiiiit longer on that front. And not the normal six months between posts from before. Maybe a wait until Thursday would be in order for that. Enough on that topic though, today is for part two of Restored.
A little more about the story- Restored is actually the early form of another story, called Clinical Trials. Both carry themes of the march of progress and the toll that can take, but in different forms.
Side note, Clinical Trials is also related to Rain, so in away you could say that this story is the grand father of the Light Themes. Or you could say that this is just a story and to stop putting words on top of it cause you want to read it. Both are reasonable responses.
So here you go- Restored, part 2

The rain buffeted the window, making it nearly impossible to see through. Trevor drove on, eager to show off his driving skills. He turned out of the parking lot at full speed. He tried to go straight, but the car continued to spin. Suddenly to white orbs appeared, growing larger and larger by the second until…

With a gasp Elizabeth Blake opened her eyes, quivering with fright. It took her several long minutes to realize she was not in Trevor’s car, but in her own bed in her own room. “It was just a dream,” she whispered as she lay there. Just a dream, but a very vivid dream. She could still feel the fear that had gripped her as she watched the other car approach. It was just a dream. She rolled over, planning on going back to sleep when she saw the clock on her bed stand.

“Shit, it’s already 7:30! I’m going to be late for school.” Hurriedly she jumped out of bed, putting on a fresh set of clothes before heading downstairs for a quick breakfast.

She walked down, hearing clearly her mother in the kitchen below. Her mom was always up early, usually both of her parents were. Maybe her dad was sick. He had been under a lot of stress recently, trying to finish up whatever project it was that he did in his lab. Something about rotting fruit Elizabeth thought. He was very secretive about his work, though it was hard to hide how worried he was about it. Mrs. Henderson said the surest way to get sick was to stress out, which was probably way everyone seemed to get sick around finals.

As she neared the bottom of the stairs she started to notice a new sound, mixed with the usual sounds of morning preparedness, crying. Elizabeth hurried down the last few steps, and ran into the kitchen to see her mother sobbing over her bowl of cereal.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Thoughts of her father raced through Elizabeth’s head, was he sick? Was there an accident at the lab? Was he dead?

Her mother gave a start, when Elizabeth’s voice. She turned her head, eyes wide as she stared at her, as if Elizabeth was a stranger in her house. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to speak but no words came out. Jerkily, she stood up from her chair, eyes locked on Elizabeth until her voice managed to produce one whispered word, “You.” Then she screamed.

Elizabeth was terrified. She had never seen anyone react that way, the fact that it was her own mother only made it worse. What was happening?

“Honey, are you OK?” Her father rushed into the kitchen, drawn to his wife’s screams. He was running to her, but when his eyes found Elizabeth, he stopped dead in his tracks. Elizabeth was scared he would start screaming too, but instead he smiled at her, one of his big, warm smiles that could always make her feel better. However, right now, with her mother still screaming, it did little to sooth her feelings.

“It’s OK Margaret. Shush, it’s alright.” Her father wrapped his arms around his wife as he led the still wild-eyed woman back to their room. While he was walking out, he turned to his daughter and mouthed, “We’ll talk later,” before closing the bedroom door behind him.

“Well, that was messed up.” Though her heart was still beating slightly fast, Elizabeth went about preparing her lunch. She would have been more worried, but her dad seemed to have everything under control. If he was not worried, she wouldn't be either. It seems that her father was not the only one under a lot of stress lately. Hopefully her mom was alright.

“Alright, I’m heading to school!” Elizabeth went to pick up her keys but winced as grabbing them caused a sharp pain in her fingers. She reached for her keys again, but the pain and stiffness remained. She must have slept on them funny. Grabbing her keys with her other hand, Elizabeth looked back towards her parent’s room before heading off to school.

Well, that was a heart warming re-union wasn't it? How will this (not quite so) happy family go on? Well come back on Tuesday to figure out the answer to that question in the grand finale.

-Me

Restored (Part 1)

I know I said I would tell you about Rain in the next post but I lied. Also, it's not tomorrow yet (for me at least) so think of this more as an extra post.
I figure in a show of good faith, and to keep any potential readers interested, I'd post one of my stories. This is from a story called "Restored." Like most of my work, it's set in the near future, where things are mostly the same, but just different enough to be worthy of reading about.
"Restored" is an earlier work, and it shows. But, seeing as most  magazines do not like you posting submitted stories to blogs, this is the one I am posting. Periodically I hope to post other stories, but for now I give you "Restored"

“This is amazing Richard! It’s ground breaking, revolutionary even! Think of the prizes, the money! Richard, this could, no, this will get us a Nobel!”

            Richard could only stare in awe as his partner danced around the lab, his high laugh over powering even the noise of the machine. They had been working for years on this project, written countless grants and proposals and what they had to show for it was one perfectly ripe strawberry. Richard hesitantly stepped towards the fruit, sitting there with it’s perfectly red surface reflected on the silver plate beneath it. Staring at the strawberry through the window, he noted its characteristics, jotting down all aspects of it in his notebook, concluding that it was a wholly normal and average berry. It was a miracle, not five minute prior it had been completely rotten.

            “We’ve done it Richard,” panted Jason as he leaned over a table, catching his breath. “We could end hunger with this machine. Just think, with one of these in every home, there would be no need for expiration dates! Nothing would ever go bad again!”

            “We have to do a lot more research before we reach that point!” Richard said, but it was struggle to keep from dancing as Jason had. Ever since his high school senior trip to the Dominican Republic, Richard Blake had dreamed of finding a way end hunger in the world. It had consumed him. It was his driving force through years of medical school and beyond, but now, now, that dream was nearly reality. “Come on Jason, let’s go and see our little berry in there.”

            Jason picked himself off the table and hurried over to the control console, ending the program and unlocking the door to the chamber where the strawberry sat. The door swung inward automatically while Richard walked towards it. As he neared the pedestal, his pace quickened, it was a struggle to keep from running to the berry. It looked normal, but there were many tests that needed to be done to prove that point. Only one test that matters though he thought, picking up the strawberry and biting into it.

            “Richard! What did you do? Our experiment, our strawberry! It’s, it’s…”

            “Delicious. We’ve done it Jason, we’ve done it! We have taken a disgusting, rotten fruit and returned it to a pristine state. You have just witnessed the death of world hunger.” Richard could not contain himself anymore, as laughter escaped his lips. His dream had been realized. “Anyway,” he continued once he could speak again, “we will need to run so many of these experiments to prove what we have done, what’s one more trial? We have cartons of rotten food to go through. Here I’ll grab another piece so we can run it again.”

            It took only a few minutes for the second test subject, this time an apple, to be set up. Once it was in place, the two scientists retreated to the console room and began the automated sequence that would restore the apple.

            “Hello? Dr. Blake? Dr. Argenon? The rats from the cancer trials are all, ah, dead. Do we have anymore?”

            The two doctors looked as Ben Tabit, one of Jason’s Undergrad Assistances in the neighboring lab, walked into the room, carrying several cages of what Richard could only assume were dead rats. “I swear to God, that kid is an idiot. The clumsiest and laziest assistant I have ever had” Jason muttered before he turned on the microphone. “Just put the rats back Ben, I’ll talk with you in a moment.”

            “Well, if there is nothing to do, I could just leave. I kind of have this thing later with…”

            Richard never heard who it was that Ben had a thing with later for as he was speaking, several things happened at once. The automated start sequence had begun, and warning lights flashed signaling ALL PERSONAL STAND BACK. The noise and lights caused Ben to stumble, only just managing to catch himself, but sending the cages of dead rats sliding into the experiment room as the automatic doors closed and locked.

            Richard and Jason rushed out of the control room as the machines in the room started up, sending loud whirring and whining noises throughout the lab, drowning out Ben’s perfuse apologies. After an eternity that lasted precisely three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, the lights flashed on again signaling the all clear. Richard stood anxiously, hardly breathing as the doors slowly opened. Almost as one, the three men rushed into the room to see what had happened, and as one all stopped, and stared at the collection of mice scurrying about the room. 

#

            The light rain from earlier in the evening had started to pick up by the time the movie ended. Large wet droplets hit the Blakes as they left the theater, making their way towards their waiting car. “So what did you think of it Richard? I know those types of movies are not your cup of tea, but the scene with the shoe? That was hilarious!”

            His wife Margret’s voice broke Richard out of his reverie. “Oh sure honey, it was great.” To tell the truth, Richard had not been able to focus on the movie, the events from earlier in the day still playing on a continuous loop in his mind.

            “You’re just saying that Dad! Knowing you, you were probably sleeping for the whole show.” A smile grew on Richard’s face at his daughters words. She had always had that effect on him. Ever since the first time he held her, Richard had to fight to keep from smiling when he was around Elizabeth, and it was always a battle he gladly lost.

            “I was watching the whole time, thank you very much. I’m surprised you even had time to look at me, what with all the staring you were doing at, uh, that one actor’s name: the tall blonde guy.”

            “Kyle Evens?” Elizabeth and Margret sighed in unison. “That guy has the body of a Greek god,” Margret continued. “If I had him alone why I would… bake him a cake.” She finished, noticing the look Richard was giving her.

            “He is so gorgeous dad, you just wouldn’t understand. When Carly went to Hollywood last summer she said that…” A buzzing sound interrupted Elizabeth. She whipped out her phone, and letting out a squeal, began to feverishly click away at the keyboard as she continued speaking. “Hey Mom; Carly, Jake and Trevor just got out of watching another movie and they want to know if I can hang out afterword.”

            “I don’t know Liz, it’s getting pretty late and the rain his picking up some more.” Richard could not argue with his wife on that one, the rain had been steadily increasing since they started walking through the parking lot. Now it seemed like they were in the monsoon season instead of mid-May. “Honey, what do you think?”

            “Well, I don’t know. Your mother’s right; it’s pretty late and wet out and you guys have only had licenses for a couple of months.”

            “Trevor’s had his for a year! Please Dad, I haven’t seen Carly in forever. I’ll be back before you have time to miss me, I promise!”

            Richard stared into the big brown eyes of his daughter. He knew it was not a good idea having those kids drive around so late together, but how could he resist those eyes? “Alright, you can go.”

            “Oh thank you Dad, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She said as she ran off into the parking lot.

            “Just as long as you’re back before I miss you!” Richard called out to the receding shape of his daughter. “Now, you’ve seen the body of a Greek god,” he said to his wife as his daughter faded from sight, “how about an American one?”

            “Oh Richard, you’re horrible.” His wife laughed as they got into the waiting car.

            While he was starting the car, a car horn caused him to look up as a green SUV drove past with Elizabeth waving from the passenger seat. Richard watched as the SUV sped out of the parking lot, it’s large frame barely slowing as it came to the intersection. He watched as the SUV spun, it’s tires unable to find purchase on the soaking pavement. He watched as a second car came barreling into the SUV. He watched as the SUV containing his daughter went spinning, rolling down the road.

            How he got there, he could never remember. One instant he was watching the SUV turn and flip, the next Richard was running past the onlookers, blind to everything but the fate of his daughter. He found her, lying on the street; she had been thrown out of the windshield during one of the rolls. As he neared her, his legs lost all their muscles and he crumpled to the ground next to her. With trembling hands, Richard cradled up her head, seemingly lying on a red pillow, as her eyes, so beautiful and large, starred into the raining night.

            The rain from above mixed with Richard’s tears as he knelt next to the body of Elizabeth. Emotions and thoughts flooded him, overwhelmed him. How could this have happened? He should have been firmer with her! If he had said no to her, Elizabeth would still be alive right now. His daughter was dead, and he was the one to say “yes.” What had he done to deserve this fate? The day had begun so well. His experiment was a success; even the rats could be restored. Now Elizabeth, his baby girl was, was… Just like that, the pieces fell together, and with a clarity born of desperation Richard Blake knew what he had to do.

            Long after Richard had left the lab, Jason Argenon continued to work furiously, forgetting food, drink, and time as he gathered data on this new development. He had ordered Ben not to tell anyone about what happened, but that fool would probably end up getting drunk and telling the whole world, and Jason had to be ready to prove it.

            “Nobel, ha!” he said, watching the rats as they squirmed about in the cages. “They will have to invent a new prize to give me once they see what this machine can do. You my pretties will change the world, and it’ll be my name that will be remembered as the man who stopped death.”

            He continued to stare at the rats, his gateway to immortality in more ways than one, when he heard the doors to the lab crash open. “Ben, I thought I told you to go home,” he yelled, swiveling to face the entrant. “I have half a mind too… Richard? What are you doing here?” It was not Ben that had entered, but Jason’s colleague, soaking wet and carrying something wrapped in a blanket. “Richard, what’s going on? What is that?”

            Richard did not seem to have heard him, or if he had, he paid Jason no mind as he strode through the lab, carrying his strange burden as he made for the door to the test chamber.

            “What are you doing Richard? Answer me dammit! What is going… oh sweet Lord what happened?” When Richard reached the center of the testing room, he placed the cloaked object down before throwing off the cover. It was all Jason could do to keep from collapsing on the ground as the broken and bloodied body of Elizabeth Blake was revealed to him. Seeing the girl like that was a shock Jason had never expected to experience. It was a long moment before he realized that Richard had joined him in the control room. Jason stared as his colleague began to press buttons on the consoles, causing a slight humming sound to begin. “Richard what are you doing?” His voice came out as a quite whisper.

            For the first time since entering the lab, Richard turned and stared at Jason. There was a look of such anguish and pain on his friend’s face Jason had never seen before. There was something else there as well; determination.

“My daughter,” Richard stopped for a moment, seemingly gathering his composure before starting again. “My daughter, is dead. We, we have a way to fix that now. I can save my Elizabeth.”

As he listened, Jason stared into the face of his friend, a face that he had never seen before. A feverish light seemed to shine from Richard’s eyes that Jason did not like. “Richard, I’m sorry for your loss, Liz was like a daughter to me too, but she’s gone Richard. You can’t bring her back.”

“We brought back the mice, why not my girl?”

“We can’t test on a human! We don’t know anything about the long term effects of this. Richard please, stop this madness.”

“Is it really madness to want your daughter to live?” whispered Richard. With eyes locked on the body of Elizabeth, Richard pressed the button that initiated the machine. The warning lights flashed but neither man moved a muscle. Two sets of eyes were riveted to the body of the girl lying in the test chamber. The humming grew into a buzzing as the machine began to work. The test chamber was flooded with light, causing even Richard to avert his gaze for the three minutes and twenty-seven seconds it took for the machine to run its processes.

Eventually, after the longest three minutes of Jason’s life, the light began to abate. Jason stood staring into the test chamber as Richard ran over to the opening door. The light had faded enough for Jason to see into the room clearly now and when he saw what was in there he nearly fainted. Elizabeth was still there, but where before she had been broken and bloody, now she lay there, body mended, life restored. Jason’s vision blurred as he watched the girl’s chest slowly rise and fall with the deep, easy breaths of sleep.

Oh man that was exciting wasn't it? What will happen next? Will the pair of scientists win the Nobel Prize? What of Elizabeth, how will she cope with this ordeal? Will Margret bake Kyle Evens a cake? Will I massacre the English language even more???? Tune in, next time, for the stunning conclusion of "Restored"

-Me

Celestia Incognita

After weeks of work (not all of it writing), it is finished!
At least the outline that is.
Celestia Incognita has a fully fleshed out and realized outline for the first time really ever. And you know what that mean, it has a full story! Hooray! Also, exclamation marks are fun apparently. Though that could just be the caffeine...
For those of you who don't know (Which should be just about all of you), CI is my premier work, trying together all of the other Light stories into one full tale. What are these Light stories you ask? Good question, one of which I shall answer at a later date. I know, I know, I very rarely actually post anytime near the another post but I swear this time will be different. It's all part of the new campaign, all leading up to the release of Rain (Working Title).
Wait wait wait (you say). I thought you said you just finished the outline for Celestia Incognita? What is this Rain (Working Title) nonsense of which you speak.
Well, Dear Reader, wait a moment and I shall tell you.
Are you waiting?

Ok, wait no more! Rain is the first story in the Light saga... or Light themes I guess. It is really only tangentially related to the others. But, as it is the only story that is self contained in one book, I figure it is the best one to start with. It's also my second most complete story, behind The Price of Ruling, which is the only complete story (so far).
Why not just release The Price of Ruling?
Well, cause I'm still editing it. Also, TPoR is only one half a complete tale, and so is probably not the best story to lead with. Also also, stop asking questions! This isn't an interview.
But why did you write an outline to CI if Rain is going to be the first story.
I said no more questions! But to answer it, it's because I really like the world of CI and the story. I wanted to get it all written down before I forgot about it, so that when I get to it, it'l be ready and waiting for me.
So what is Rain?
..... You're going to keep asking questions aren't you? I guess it can't be helped. Rain is... oh look at that, I'm out of time for the day. I leave you now, having told you nothing of substance. But that just means you'll come back tomorrow for the real deal right? Ok fine, I'll leave you with a hint- near future detective story, filled with intrigue, suspense, and human augmentation.  What does that even mean? Just wait and find out ... Oh now you go silent.

-Me

A New Start

After a long... long... long hiatus, I am back, working on The Price of Ruling (Version 2.0!)! It all started after my friend in his 1/4 house told he that he loves editing. I told him that I have a lot of editing for him to love! Everybody wins. With Mr. Quarter about to look over my work, it has spurred me to re-write and fix up the book as I never did it after the first round of read-throughs. Now I have complete redone the beginning of the novel, patching up all those silly plot holes that I used to have. I probably made more in the process, but for now it seems like a solid, not sinking story. Maybe I'll post a bit of it. And maybe someone will actually read this now that I am writing again. Only one of those seems likely.  I'll let you, nonexistent reader, guess which one. That is all for now.

-Me

For You, The Readers

Wow.... so last time I was here, was a year ago. So much has happened in a year. So much to tell. Don't know where to begin, so instead, I think I'll find a muffin while I plan this out. Cheers.