Work in progress

[Lester Curtis]

I'd like to let all of you have a look at my current project and see what you think of it so far, but I don't know how much I can post at once.

Total to date is about 11400 words, and I'm just getting started, really. I could post the first chapter, but you don't get much of what's going on from that; the first four chapters complete the set-up much better, and that's about 4700 words.

I guess what I need to know is the character limit for a post, and how much you'd like at once.

[Robert_Moriyama]

Do you have anywhere you could upload the story-in-progress (a web page with a fair bit of storage)? It might be better (and more legible) that way. Of course, that would make it easy to steal, but posting it in the Forum only means that a potential thief would have to learn how to (gasp) copy and paste...

(As long as you don't make the whole thing available, you're probably safe anyway. Despite the "Avatar stole my idea" semi-joking discussion, intentional idea theft is fairly rare, and actual manuscript copying is literally unheard of.)

[Lester Curtis]

Sorry, Robert, I don't have a web page . . . if I send it as a .pdf, could you do anything with that? Those are a bit more secure. Easier to read, too.

I'm not too worried about plagiarism; most of my larger ideas seem fairly common already, based on what I've read here.

I just wanted to post it in this sub-forum to get the quickest feedback.

[Robert_Moriyama]

I could upload a .pdf to a folder on the Aphelion server (distinct from the "live" ones where "published" materials reside. Unless, of course, the Webmaven or publisher / Editor in Chief object?

[Lester Curtis]

Sounds good; check into it and let me know. I'm thinking you could just have a link posted from this page.

I don't think the owners would have a complaint; .pdf's are actually smaller than some other kinds of text files.

[Lester Curtis]

I've made a .rtf file of the first chapter (16KB) . . . should I just dump it here? I'd like to get some commentary going on it, while I start correcting at least one glaring problem (lack of detail in the settings).

[Lester Curtis]

*NOTE TO THE EDITORS (and everyone else)*
Unlike me, I'm pretty sure you all have jobs, families, and social lives, which limit the time you can spend here, doing this out of your generosity and love of good writing. I'm very grateful and appreciative . . .
. . . but I don't have much patience (sorry) -- or maybe I'm bored or something -- and I want to get some feedback going . . . so I hope it doesn't upset anyone, but I'm going to begin unloading this story, one chapter at a time. Here's the first.

Please critique this thing any way you like.



The Flight of the Sienna
by Lester Curtis

One

It was the middle of the afternoon, and Jerry Nikas was trying to go to sleep for the third time that day. This was not a testament to laziness, nor a symptom of any illness; he was engaged in an esoteric practice which combined mild self-hypnosis and lucid dreaming with sex. He had been introduced to the custom about a year earlier by a human female he met at an off-world bar. He'd had a number of opportunities to work on the technique during his free time between piloting jobs.

His partner in this enterprise was a non-human alien, a female of the Tribe Of The Red Tails, on Earth as one of a group of scholars who were visiting the Griffin Institute. Her real name was nearly unpronounceable, so she called herself Neela. Petite and digitigrade, with long silky fur and a slightly vulpine face, she was one of the Tribe's linguists. Her soft-voiced English was perfect in pronunciation and grammar, but delivered with a disconcerting lack of inflection.

She'd been seeking a human partner to try this with, saying she was a "collector of experiences." When she located Jerry, she insisted on paying him, and he objected, but only once, telling her that their chance of satisfaction was slim. Her offer of forty credits was a decent day's wages, though, and he didn't know when another piloting assignment would become available.

Jerry had thought it a little strange that she chose to come to his place, but she'd said it was important that he feel comfortable in familiar surroundings. He was staying in a mid-scale day-rate rental apartment at The Pilot House, named for its target clientele.

He was not surprised when she arrived in a private vehicle with two bodyguards, there still being some animosity towards non-humans, mostly from religious fundamentalists. The guards were gristly-looking Tribe males, equipped with sidearms and communications headsets. One of them stayed by the car while the other checked Jerry's apartment building with a hand-scanner and then stood station just outside his door.

Dream-sex was elusive at best, and usually frustrating, though her knowledge of the language helped. Their first attempt failed because, as she said, she "hadn't been dreaming in English." On the second try, he had lost control of himself in the dream. Before and between tries, they had detailed discussions on how to insure the best results.

They now lay curled together on their sides, uncovered, her head resting on his arm, his knees behind hers, her long bushy tail swept along her flank. They were concentrating on their breathing, sliding themselves toward sleep.

He was somewhere in the gray area of consciousness when the phone began signaling -- three chirps followed by one. His agent, Ralph, with a piloting job. It would only get louder if he ignored it, so he rolled over as quietly as he could and picked up the phone. His left arm was still under Neela's head.

"Yeah, Ralph."

"Jerry, I've got an opening for a Captain, crew of two, no passengers. The ship is named Sienna, she's a Dowar & Brewster Neo-Drive Mark Four -- "

"Aww, crap . . . "

"Hold on, you haven't heard the rest. It's a yacht conversion, done two years ago by Fells; new power plant and jump coils, upgraded instruments, extended range, interior mods. Fully provisioned. Um, flight certified, uh, two weeks ago, rated eighty-seven -- that's good, isn't it? Could be a nice gig."

"Eighty-seven . . . " He'd heard stories of brand-new ships that didn't rate much better than that, and recalled a saying regarding the work performed by Fells Shipyards: There are no fools in Fells. He'd certainly flown worse. "All right . . . any notes in the flight cert report?"

"Mmm, they state some minor shakes and rattles, mostly in atmo . . . jumps were clean and accurate, but felt 'billowy.'

All jumps were billowy. The lack of further comment was a good sign. "I can live with that. How long?"

"Four days out, four back, from here to Mauros, with an eight hour stop each way at Seven Star."

"That's pretty slow; I've made Mauros in three . . . odd. Payload?"

"Not on board now, you pick it up at Seven Star . . . it's a single package, weight fifty-seven kilos -- paperwork says it's all legal, classed as 'private archival documents.' Drop it at Mauros and return empty. Hand-carry; read the flight instructions."

"Wow, someone really doesn't like common carrier, huh?"

"Yeah, this is kind of a weird job; I think it's some eccentric old fart with too much money. Oh, and speaking of which, the pay is three times standard contract, with an unspecified bonus if you get home undamaged."

"Three?! As in, triple? Why hasn't this job been taken already?"

"No one else knows about it; I have exclusive agency, and I thought you'd be good for this job."

"Ah, my reputation preceded me . . ."

"Well, you have several reputations, but I ignored those and went by your experience; I know you've flown one of these before."

"Yeah, and you probably gathered I didn't like it. Neo Four freighters were solid, but they were ass-heavy, with sluggish helms . . . actually, I thought they'd all been scrapped by now. Fells conversion, though . . . what else?"

"Oh, yeah, all expenses, which means whatever you can burn through at Seven Star in two eight hour sessions. Do you want it?"

"All that; hell yeah, I want it, but -- man, this thing reeks!" Jerry chuckled.

"I thought so too, but I had it all checked out, and it's all legit. I even had my Trooper friend look into it, and she says it's all clean."

"Hm. Who've you got for a first officer?"

"Name's Raiehth. He's one of those centaur-lizard things with feathers, about five meters long; ever see one?"

"Kaitwuagh. From the planet they call Kait. They look interesting, but I've never worked with one. This'll be good."

"What is this thing you've got for aliens, anyway, Jerry? Were you bitten by a human once or something?"

"They make me think, Ralph, unlike a lot of humans, who just make me want to get drunk. And I'm not a drinker. How soon do I need to be there?"

"Today. The sooner the better. You need some time?"

"Well, I'm kind of in the middle of something -- can I get -- three hours?"

"Uhh, I don't want to know what you're in the middle of -- look, just be there by -- sixteen hundred EST, or I catch hell. And then you catch hell."

"Why the big rush for such a slow ride?"

"Hell if I know, they just want her out of here on schedule."

Jerry sighed. "All right. Where?"

"Detroit Memorial, lower level information desk, they'll have a packet for you."

"All right. I'll be there."

"Just be there on time, okay?"

"Ralph, I always get the job done, don't I? I do have that reputation . . ."

"Ehhh -- look -- they'll ding my commission if you're late on this one, okay? And yours, too, if that matters. Just be on time. Please."

"Okay, Ralph. Just for you, I'll be there on time."

"Liar." Ralph sounded morose.

"Thank you, Ralph. Goodbye." Nikas broke the connection before Ralph could say anything else. He turned the phone off and gently put it down, and turned back to the graceful creature huddled against his loins. He knew she'd heard the whole thing. Glancing at the wall clock, he weighed time, money, and pleasure in his head. He snuggled closer to her and whispered, "You want to try a wakey?"

She lifted her head off his arm and pointed her honey-colored eyes at him and said, "I want what I'm paying for." Then she smiled slightly, displaying sharp little white teeth. "You don't want to damage your reputation for getting the job done, do you?" She reached up and stroked his cheek with a delicate hand. "Time will wait. Let's go back to sleep."

Pleasure won. "Okay."

They did, and this time, they got their attentions and intentions just right, and everything fit together so delightfully well, and in their shared wet-dreams, their orgasms were not only simultaneous, but altogether fantastic.

Afterward, she placed a hundred-credit Solar coin in his hand. Jerry said, "Uh, that's -- more than . . . "

"I know. Call it a gratuity. You exceeded my expectations."

"Well -- mine too, actually, but, thank you -- very much." Jerry was taken aback, but thought that Terran money might have been meaningless to her anyway, perhaps issued to her as spending cash. He was pretty sure she understood what its worth was to him.

He showered quickly, then summoned an automated aircab and watched Neela licking herself clean while he put on a plain white dishdasha and open-backed cloth shoes. Since piloting-for-hire was widely considered to be blue-collar work, there wasn't much of a dress code for it, and Jerry liked to be comfortable.

Neela pointed at his dishdasha and said, "I like that." Then she pointed at his feet and said, "Remove those."

He did so, and she said, "That looks better. You have nice feet, for a plantigrade. People should see them."

"Well, thank you, but . . . I should have some kind of footwear on a flight, and I'd rather wear 'em than carry 'em." He put the shoes back on and watched longingly as she went back to cleaning herself.

She finished up shortly, and his cab arrived, and Jerry wanted to offer her a freebie -- and be another hour and a half late -- but instead picked up his flight bag. As he ushered her into her car, he said, "When I get back, would you like to, uh . . . "

"You will not see me again."

"I think I'll miss you," he blurted. He wasn't too surprised to realize that he might have actually meant it. He tended to become easily infatuated with such singular beauty.

"Don't," she said, locking him down with her eyes. "I am the package, not the contents. Forget me. Remember the experience." She retreated along the seat and the door closed, and the car left.

He wondered about packages and contents and forgetting and remembering, all the way to the port.

[Lester Curtis]

Tao,

I'd like to know if the "gratuitous exotica" is vital to the story's plot.

No, but it's fun to write. Ha ha . . . sorry, couldn't help myself . . .

Seriously, the story hasn't got a plot yet. Really, this began quite differently, with only Jerry and Raiehth having some dialog, but it was sickeningly breezy. Right at this moment, I honestly can't recall how I arrived at the present opening. I suppose I could delete the juicy stuff, but I had planned on Neela showing up later, in a different role, which would have been a surprise -- of the kind referenced on that list of things not to do . . .

On the other hand . . .

people like to know if stories are "PG" or "High-R".

. . . they'd have a pretty strong hint right up front, and the most explicit by page seven. How would you rate this, by the way?

There was a period in the 1960's that it might have worked as "fresh" as in New Wave.

I grew up in the sixties . . . can I use that as an excuse?

On another note, if it's a deep cultural practice, it appears far too fast and early.

It isn't, at least not on Earth as I envision it for this story. And you're right, deep culture requires explanation, sometimes a lot of it.

Back to brass tacks, though, what I see as the most important part of this first chapter is the phone call -- and the missing parts, which are setting details, and more information about Jerry. I'm not sure I really like Jerry all that well as I've written him so far, but he is at least a complex character.
As to plot, I'm serious, I really haven't got one solidified yet. I'm working on something about the bad guys being ruthless slavers. I want some action in the story, but I'm wondering how that will square with my main characters flying around in a small luxury yacht, as opposed to something like a mining ship or a light freighter. It's a daunting challenge, and I may have to rethink that part of the story as well.

[Lester Curtis]

I've written stories in Quads before.

Explain further, please; I'm unfamiliar with this practice.

per Seanan's notes on markets, people like to know if stories are "PG" or "High-R".

I went looking for this, but couldn't find it on her website . . . maybe in her journals, but I didn't read all of those. Could you point me to it? Maybe someone has put together a list of what constitutes a given rating for print publication -- and yes, I know that changes.

About liking characters, I think I already dislike him, because it's hard to do an anti-hero.

I don't think of him as an anti-hero, just a guy wasting his time until he finds something more important to expend his energy on. He'll get more likeable after that happens. Actually, I was thinking of just dropping the whole story, but I like the notion of working with Jerry as a character. Really, though, I have to find a way to get my process more organized -- finalizing a plot would really make a difference.

As to the exotica -- in Neela's own words, "You will not see me again." Too bad; she's such a fox. Actually, though, I have the idea that such stuff can be a distraction from the more important aspects of the story.

[Lester Curtis]

I'm not sure the quad thing would work for me, unless I figure out how to magnify at least one of them. I'll check; my Mac has a feature called "Spaces," allowing multiple pages on the screen.

I've been in the practice of occasionally snipping a chunk of text out and putting it into an 'out-takes' file, but I seldom look at those.

Thanks.

[Lester Curtis]

Just read this, I likes and would like to read more.

Sorry, you won't. I thought this thing had been safely forgotten . . . it's been three months, and I've only just now recovered from the embarrassment sufficiently to begin revisiting this awful mess . . . (shudders) . . .

This story has been scrapped, although I am going to reuse a couple of the characters -- as soon as I can figure out a plot, or something that passes for one enough to start over with. At my current rate of progress, though, I may not live long enough. What seems to be helping me in that effort is charting a time-line of significant events as they relate to the characters.

I'm great at starting stories . . . it's the middle and ending that stop me. The rewrite of this one does have a specific ending, though, which will tie it in to another story. Now I need to figure out how to get from A to Z.

As to the erotica . . . let me put this in perspective. Back when "Glory Road" came out, I was a little disgusted at Heinlein's apparent obsession with sex . . . and here I've gone and done ten times worse. I hope to avoid that in the future.

[Lester Curtis]

Iskoday, I hope my response didn't come across as too harsh . . . part of me wants to say that I'm glad you enjoyed it, but another part of me wants to say that we should both get our minds out of the gutter . . .

Truthfully, I've just looked back at the whole seven chapters I had of this thing, and it really is junk . . . the story line has more holes and loose ends than a colander full of spaghetti, and about two thirds of the rest is excruciating detail of the ship.

I've tried to start over on it, but I'm starting to think that what I really need is a vacation instead . . .

[Lester Curtis]

let me be the one to apologize for bringing something up you wished to be forgotten.

Well, I hadn't said so, so you're not at fault.

I've heard of Martin but haven't read any of his work . . . maybe I'll look for it.

[Robert_Moriyama]

Martin is one of the authors and series creator for the "Wild Cards" "mosaic novels" (describing a world in which an alien tetrovirus grants some people superpowers (aces), causes others to mutate in various ways (jokers, some of whom have enhanced powers associated with their deformities), but kills most who contracted it).

Aside from that, he is best known for "The Armageddon Rag" (science fiction -- I haven't read it, but it is highly regarded) and "Fevre Dream" (steamboats in the post-Civil War U.S. -- but instead of steampunk technology, the fantastic element is vampires), which I highly recommend for its evocation of life on the river(s) and darkly compelling take on the vampire mythos.

RM