Tag Archives: post-apocalyptic

I was supposed to read today

I’m a couple of books behind right now, and have some serious reading I need to get on with. I earmarked this holiday for that purpose, but it never happened.

Things were flowing so well for Lizzie and the hat, that I couldn’t help myself. The wild goose chase continues, but she accomplished some things today that should help her out with her assignment.

Joyeux had to turn Lizzie down cold. The device she wanted to borrow is still in use, and Joyeux can’t spare it right now.

Help came via Cyrus Yoder, but it was Destiny the elemental that made her new device. It’s a mallet. The old fashioned kind that looks similar to half of a rolling pin. I can’t wait to see what kind of monkey business I can concoct with that device.

Cyrus is still grouchy and reserved. Dash is still helpful when he’s allowed to be, and Noodles made his first appearance. He’s going to have a bigger role in this story, but I never got that far.

Fallout from a giant flood is part of the influence in this book. Lizzie is broke. (When isn’t she) Venues for her band are struggling, so the hat booked the band into a junior high dance. I’ll probably get to that bit on my next writing session.

It was a good four-day author stretch. I moved both Mari’s and Lizzie’s stories ahead. Mari’s word count is at 23,800. Lizzies is at 12,500.

I’d like Lizzie’s story to remain at that short novel size. So she might be 25% finished. Mari’s story is intended for a full sized novel, so perhaps 25%, but it might come in a bit shorter.

I expect things to slow down with the changes being made at my workplace. It’s okay. I have two complete novels in the can right now, add these two, and I’m in a pretty good position.

I’ll need to set aside some time to add the cartoons to The Midnight Rambler, and do a final editing pass on it before fall. I will also take time to edit book one of my space opera, which still needs a title.

I might have to use my headphones and read during the evenings. They tend to drown out whatever Old What’s Her Face has on television so I can concentrate.

I hope all of you who got a holiday found a way to enjoy it.

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Better than I’d hoped

Sundays are usually horrible days for me to write. I call my mother and spend about an hour with her. There are general chores and such that I earmark for Sundays. I might gain an hour or so, but usually don’t.

For whatever reason, probably having the house to myself, I managed some quality time. I stayed with Mari’s story, and feel kind of bad about it.

I left poor Lizzie handcuffed outside of a secure Federal agency in the grass. She didn’t do anything wrong, but she’s been there for a couple of weeks now. Next weekend I’ll get what amounts to my last flex day ever and might return to help her out.

Mari’s rescue was complete. She lost four or five days in an unconscious state. Sun, fire ants, and abuse will do that to you in my story.

Her rescuer is Kelilah, and she survived the war Mari only sees the remnants of. As Mari got her legs under her, she started checking the fish traps and figured out how they work. A neat skill for someone traveling through swamp country.

Kelilah also told her bits and pieces about the war. Not too many speak of it, so this was a rare opportunity for her to learn something about the previous world.

This conversation peppered a scene where Mari learned how to throw a box of knives Kelilah had collected from her old military unit as they were killed. These Arkansas toothpicks were a symbol of the scouts.

They also spent some quality time learning how to knife fight, and it’s more brutal than just trying to stab someone.

Bath time also came along which involved a trough and heating water on an outdoor stove Kelilah had built. This is where Mari learned one of her attackers, the same ones who killed her family, wrote his name across her ass. It will wash away eventually, but someone named “Keefe” made it to the top of her death list.

As the bruises heal, and the deep tissues start feeling better, Mari and Kelilah are heading for a distant community to forage. There are quality fruit trees and things there. I’ll have Kelilah reveal a bit more about the past as this section expands. For now, they have to wait until I get some more writing time.

With no expectations, my word count exceeded yesterdays. I always struggle with transitions, and now that I made them the story flowed better. Mari’s skill set is growing by leaps and bounds. She has two clues to work with, Keefe and someone with a yellow handled machete. Much better than the laughing silhouettes from her personal attack.

Still raining in Idaho. Now that the weekend is over, I’m sure it will return to sunny days and high temperatures. Heaven forbid we get a nice weekend. For those of you wondering, Old What’s Her Face pulled in about an hour ago and had a great time with her brother and our grandson.

Hope all of you had wonderful weekends, and have a great week ahead of you.

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Not as good as I’d hoped

It’s a bachelor weekend around here. Old What’s Her Face decided to brave the $5 gasoline and visit some family in Nevada. I had big plans for moving at least one story ahead.

I spent Friday night with a huge bottle of Old Rasputin Imperial Stout, Obi Wan Kenobi, and Crime Story. No sense getting greedy about writing, and I deserved an evening of whatever the hell I want.

I woke up early and intended to make the pixels fly. No real target or agenda. There’s a scene that I’ve been dreading in Mari’s story and rather than put it off I faced it head on.

There are some scenes I don’t feel like I write particularly well, but I’ve learned a pseudo-trick. I kind of write them from the side. I don’t have to write erotica to include characters who are intimate. I just pick it up from the other end. Works for me. (I need to dwell on this and I might get a Story Empire post out of it.)

This scene involves a personal failure on Mari’s part and she paid the price. Rather than feel every broken rib, or penetrative act, I skipped ahead to her being roused by a rescuer. Fire ants found their way into the story.

The old woman who rescued her is going to become a kind of mentor. This lady was actually in the war Mari sees the remnants of. There are some new bushcraft and frontier skills headed Mari’s way, but I never made it that far.

This is also the character that’s going to bring that little bit of Voodoo to the tale that makes it one of my stories. I’ve done my research and this is a gift from an entity known as Papa Legba.

I never did a formal count, but it feels like 3000 – 3500 words. Sounds awesome, but I had about seven hours at my disposal. I got up early. It’s also likely to be my weekly word count as well as my day. I’ll see how far I get tomorrow. Right now it’s at 15,160.

Mari’s story involves a lot of moving around, and I’m trying to get into the scenery. This includes remnants from the war, like the night she spent beside the burned up hull of a Blackhawk helicopter.

I’m also touching upon some of the exotic wildlife that has made its way into the Gulf Coast area. Nothing preachy, but there are iguanas and pythons present already. A few Quaker parakeets also exist. I’ll probably step it up from there, but so far it’s been realistic. Don’t know if I’ll include a bit about global warming, but it feels like something that could work here.

Poor Mari is really going through the crucible in this one. She’s tough and well prepared, but not as well as she thought. Perhaps this mentor character can provide a bit more that she’s lacking.

This mentor will provide some things, but not everything. I have another stop far down the line that will deliver a bit more, but it’s Mari who’s going to have to make the ultimate evolution before the big showdown.

I’m probably going to go back to some television for the rest of the day. Stormy and hot here in Idaho. It’s a weird combo, but the weather all year has been weird.

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Started another one

I got Mari to a crossroads in the wilderness and it poses a small geography problem. She needs to take all three options before her. I wrote one of them that allowed me to show a bit of setting and close the book on her former life. She made it back to the crossroads, and I want to think the next part over in more depth.

This meant it’s time to start on the next hat story. For some reason this one flowed better. It’s probably because I know the characters so well.

Here’s the shtick for this one. It opens with Lizzie working her dead end jobs in the wake of a disaster that happens in The Midnight Rambler. I’m still cognizant of keeping each volume as a stand alone title in the series.

A huge flood event is part of Midnight Rambler. I’m making sure to drop enough details so those who skip MR will be able to pick it right up in the next book. Those who read in order will see the continuity across the titles.

Since Lizzie lives in a basement apartment, it’s out of commission for repairs, so she’s temporarily living with Shade, her saxophone player. It’s a return favor from Lunar Boogie.

The FBI is asking for Lizzie’s help on a matter of national security. They’re forcing her into it by exposing a file on her previous goings on, then leveraging her unpaid student loans as a kind of payoff. It’s a crappy payoff, but it’s in keeping with the events of her regular life.

I may have mentioned it here, but never between the covers of the books. I never mention where Lizzie lives, because I want to make some of it up as I go. If I need a special park or event center, I don’t want to limit myself as to what actually exists. Having said that, here in author land, it’s basically St. Louis.

I found out the National Geospacial-Intelligence Agency has an important site in St. Louis. I won’t reveal the city in my story, but it fits my plan perfectly.

The NGIA is all about satellite photos, spy planes, and other geographical data. I added they can track ships at sea and a few other tidbits. They’re part of the US Intelligence network.

Turns out the NGIA has been invaded by gremlins. All Lizzie has to do is get rid of them in a big server farm.

Lizzie is living on disaster food stamps, disaster rental assistance, FEMA monies, and whatever else she can scrape together. I had some fun with her trying to sell timeshares and working for Uber Eats. Also had fun with the hat trying to sell timeshares.

I have a nice line about insurance coming up when she finally gets to the campus.

Let’s just say, I’m having a great time. Ran into a snag in writing Mari’s story in first person, then nearly starting Lizzie’s story in first person, too. Got over that after a couple of paragraphs.

I like writing two at once so I can keep making word count. I broke 3000 words on Lizzie’s next tale while dwelling on Mari’s next moves. Tomorrow is a good writing day, and I may bounce back and forth.

Not too bad for having accomplished nothing yesterday. Don’t feel at all bad about it either. It’s nice being ahead of the game.

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Chipping away at it

Somehow, I managed today as my flex day. It hasn’t happened very often that I get a four day weekend out of the schedule, but I’m pretty stoked about it.

Tried my hand at some fiction this morning. It’s going slow. I’ve been dwelling on this story for years, but I still have to get post apocalyptic America on the page along with everything else. This involves things like transportation which is back to horse power, or in Mari’s case ox power.

It also involves a monetary system where barter is king, and salvage is a way of life. The currency exists in the form of quarters. These are more durable than old paper money, and people can sift through the rubble for them on occasion. Sometimes purchases are made by the coin count, other times by the pound. It’s +/- $20 per pound of coins. I looked it up.

I also have to work with geography and a few ideas from the fall of our modern society. For now, I’m sticking with “Once Upon a Time in the Swamp,” for a title. Something else may come to me as I write it out, but it functions for drafting purposes.

I’d like to start another Lizzie and the hat tale soon. Working on two projects at once really functions well for me. When I get in a bind on one, I can switch to the other and still earn word count out of the day.

I keep finding some pretty obscure music as part of my hat research. After so many volumes, I’ve covered a lot of tunes people are likely to recognize. I hate to use obscure stuff, but might have to start weaving some of that in.

This is something new from Samantha Fish. I think it’s a cover of an older song, but I can totally envision Lizzie and the Pythons playing it.

I’m thinking the working title for this story will be “Goodbye Old Paint.” That will probably be a line of dialog in the story. It will involve national security, and her being forced into helping. My motivator could go down in flames, though. It involves Lizzie’s unpaid student loans. If the president forgives those it might force me to change directions.

With any luck, I might start writing this one before the long weekend ends. Right now, Mari and the swamp need more of my attention.

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Fallout, by Harmony Kent

Hey everyone. One of my great pleasures is to help my fellow authors with their promotions. Harmony Kent is an old friend and she’s touring her newest book around right now. Please make her feel welcome, and consider using those sharing buttons. I know Harmony would do it for you.

***

Hi, everyone. Harmony here. Many thanks to Craig for hosting me today. I have a new book on pre-order called FALLOUT, which is a post-apocalyptic dystopia. This novel started out life by playing a little game. I sat and closed my eyes and imagined an empty room … in that room, a vial appeared. A dull orange plastic thing covered in scratches. It sloshed when I shook it. From that tiny beginning, the world of Exxon 1 and its deadly virus was born.

Why is Kaleb so eager to help Priya with the vial?

Why doesn’t he just take it from her?

Why does Priya still trust Kaleb?

 

 

Emotions grew around the visual memory like mould. Unwanted and poisonous. He had been but a boy. Young and weak and ignorant. He hadn’t known the way of the world. Not back then. And still, the old feelings held him prisoner so that he could not simply walk away from the woman bleeding out on the dirt floor.

 

Pity and remorse squashed his logic into a dark corner. He had to help her. The responsibilities of his mission—what they meant for mankind—warred with his desire, his need, to help the young victim. 

 

Duty pulled his left leg toward the exit. Pity drew his right toward the woman. If he didn’t make up his mind soon, he’d end up doing the splits. With a sigh of frustrated annoyance, he squatted by the beaten body again. Only then did he notice what the rat had been chewing on. Her left little finger was missing, gnawed down to the lowest knuckle joint in a mess of bloodied flesh and gristle.

WHEN EVERYTHING FALLS APART, WHAT CAN YOU DO?

The year is 3040.

The location is Exxon 1, part of a six-planet system in settled space.

Determined to avoid the mistakes of old Earth, the surviving humans avoided democracy and opted, instead, for a non-elective totalitarian system.

The new way worked well, until now.

A crazy, despotic president releases a nano-virus on the population.

No one was ready for the fallout. It came anyway.

In this post-apocalyptic world, can you stay safe?

 

FALLOUT Pre-order Link: mybook.to/FALLOUT

 

Author Bio

After spending around thirteen years as an ordained Buddhist monk, living in a Zen Buddhist temple, and six years after a life-changing injury following a surgical error, Harmony Kent returned to the world at the tender age of forty.

Now, she is famous for her laughter, and has made quite the name for herself … she’s also, um, a writer … and fairly well known for that too. She’s even won a few awards. Harmony lives in rural Cornwall with her ever-present sense of humour, adorable husband, and quirky neighbours.

Harmony is passionate about supporting her fellow authors.

 

Links

Website: https://harmonykent.co.uk/

Story Empire (co-authored): https://storyempirecom.wordpress.com/

Amazon Author Page: author.to/HarmonysBooks

Twitter: @harmony_kent

LinkedIn: Harmony

GoodreadsAuthor Page

FALLOUT Pre-order Link: mybook.to/FALLOUT

 

 

 

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Crossing Bedlam

I’ve already downloaded my copy, and can’t wait to read this one, Craig.

The Rated-R Post-Apocalyptic Action Comedy Adventure is finally here!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

The United States of America has been crippled. Violently contained by a global military force and left without its leaders, the country has become shattered and chaotic. A decade has passed since the first strike and a new landscape has emerged where survival is more important than anything else. Who will uncover the truth behind the attack and revive this once great nation?

It certainly won’t be Cassidy and Lloyd since they couldn’t care less about that stuff. She is a young woman on a mission to honor her mother’s dying wish, which is to toss her ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge. He is an infamous serial killer she broke out of Rikers Island since hiring a bodyguard wasn’t working out. Not the perfect plan, but having an insane, oddly charming murder-junkie on your side is a plus in the Shattered States.

Bullets and swear words are going to fly as Cassidy and Lloyd travel coast to coast, facing one challenge after another . . . including Nebraska.

Curious about this broken world & these two ‘not even close to being heroes’?

Then grab a copy for $2.99 on Amazon
&
Mark it as ‘To Read’ on Goodreads

Excerpt: A Relaxing Drive on the Parkway (Foul Language Warning)

The jeep hurtles through a large hole in the parkway divider, the threat of incoming traffic nothing more than a faded memory. Only three of their pursuers manage to follow with a fourth smashing into the gap and blocking the path. Not wanting to be an easy target, Cassidy keeps their vehicle swerving from one lane to another. She can hear bullets pinging off the asphalt and the abandoned cars that have been moved to the side of the road. There is another hole in the divider right before an overpass, so she drives through at the last second. Sliding into the tunnel, Cassidy watches the other vehicles pass the gap before making a tire-screeching U-turn to go in the opposite direction. Five motorcycles are heading toward them, but the heavy jeep and its driver’s refusal to get out of the way makes them an easily scattered threat. One of the bikers is unable to swerve to the side and he crashes onto the hood while his ride is sent spinning into an abandoned van.

“Get off my car!” Cassidy shouts as she reaches out the window. Grabbing the man by the ankle, she yanks him off the hood and lets him tumble into the concrete divider. “This is really going to cost me. Do you know what the penalty for your idiocy is? They kill you unless you escape to the mainland. Then you’re exiled until you find something that the Trade Barons want more than revenge. I don’t have time to go on a treasure hunt. Would you take off those sunglasses and stop humming car chase music?”

“I was only trying to complete the scene,” Lloyd argues as he calmly fires a pellet at a sedan driver. Having mixed the three types of ammo, he is happy to see a yellow orb burst on the woman’s mouth. “There’s the scratching. Now the nausea. We have a spinning and flipping car, folks. Oh, and there goes either the guy in the passenger seat or a really big ragdoll. You know, I’m starting to like what all of you have done with the place.”

“Stop killing people!” the blonde shouts, veering away from a large truck. She narrowly avoids slamming into a small car, the jeep moving off the road to complete the turn. “The more bodies we leave, the harder it will be to regain the Trade Barons’ favor. At least Neddy will send us what we need and . . . this is not the fucking time to change clothes!”

Lloyd stops with his head peeking out of his blood-covered shirt, which is high enough to reveal his scarred stomach. Figuring that he has come too far to stop, he yanks off the garment and hurls it out the window. He pouts when it flies over a car instead of covering the driver’s side of the windshield and causing a crash. Blindly reaching back, he takes a random shirt out of his bags and examines the black top in the side view mirror. The red and black mask of an old comic book character stares back at him, the face giving the illusion of grinning beneath the fabric.

“I remember reading this guy’s series before the Internet made him so popular and he turned up everywhere. Ugh, that sounded so pretentious that I’m tempted to stab myself. Hey, can we still see movies because I want to see his?” Lloyd asks while tying the laces of the black sneakers he hastily put on before making a mess at the Coliseum. “I really like t-shirts with pictures on them. They bring attention to what I’m wearing instead of my face. You can start a conversation about them too. Nice way to meet people and find out if they’re worth leaving alive or not. For example, I have a shirt with another hero and if somebody tells me that the bastard can defeat every other character then I know they have to die. I mean, he’s nothing more than a child-endangering bill-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!”

“Don’t be angry, kid. You’re doing great.”

“I can’t even figure out if we’re going in the right direction.”

“Turn around and start shooting at their tires.”

“I can’t because I need to save bullets.”

“For what?”

“Nebraska!”

Charles E YallowitzAbout the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Want the same level of action with a lot of magic & no cursing?

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen 3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Click here for the $4.99 Bundle to start your journey into Windemere!

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