Frustration, Distraction, and the End of the Snippets*

*For now, anyway — they will come again for Act One of The Flicker of Ghosts

Ever shop for bar-height tables and chairs?  Sure you have; anyone who has thought even remotely about redoing their kitchen or dining room has looked into various options.  Usually, for most of us, the price tag of new furniture ends those dreams of a “new living space” pretty darned quickly.

So, take that (expensive) furniture shopping/fantasizing and multiply it to 15-20 tables, and 100 or so seats…

*sigh*

I wish I had paid a lot more attention when I took wood shop all those years ago; at least then I could have pretended that I could make my own stuff!  At this point, I have no choice but to go with what others want to charge for their stuff.

Err, never mind.  Time to stop distracting myself with that stuff.

If there is one firm commitment I have made to myself, it is to not let my work and efforts to open the brewery overflow into my writing.  Oh, it will undoubtedly flow into the content of my writing, but (hopefully) not into how I go about things.  For very good reason I am doing my best to keep both this blog and my personal writing completely separate from my real world business efforts.  That is, of course, also why this blog has been so sporadic lately…

I can’t tell you how much I look forward to sitting in the corner of my own taproom, with my earbuds firmly in place to keep the customers at bay, and writing the words and emotions that I have allowed to build up behind my own personal dam of worry, stress and hope.  Hell, half (at least) of the reason I want to run my own place is so I always have the perfect to go and write!

At any rate, I thought about doing a quick snippet on Connor, but then I realized just how much of The Silence That Never Comes I have already put up on this blog.  The entire first act, in fact.  Oh, in terms of word-count that is only something like 20% of the story, but it is still an awful lot to put up for, well…for free.  So, I am going to stop posting snippets.

Err…umm…I’m going to stop after I (re)post this last one!  The final scene of that book, as a matter of fact.  Now, just how Connor goes from a 50th floor office to this last scene is, well…it’s the other 75% of the damned story!  Oh, and yes, this really was in fact the very first scene I wrote for this entire story!

“Hi, Mom”

The room was dark, but Connor didn’t need the light.  Hell, he didn’t want the light.  Not for this.  This was private.  This was his.  Maybe the only thing in the miserable fucking universe that fit that description.

The screen snapped open, still crisp and new, and the icons displayed there glittered in a bright cheerfulness that annoyed the shit out of him.  Connor still couldn’t bring himself to use his new implant, however.  Not when he had other options.  He knew that implant was safe — that he had made sure of himself — but it still was something far too new, and far too dangerous, to ever really trust.

Several taps of his fingers and the screen scrambled in a wave of colors.  Less than a second later a logo appeared.  He had come to know that logo…and to fear everything it represented.  He punched in a code — a very specific, very special code — and waited while the network routed his call.

There was a hint of static on the screen, and a buzzing through the speaker newly implanted in his inner ear.  The jamming and security measures he had set up were fighting the taps and tracers he knew were seeking him.  He hoped he had done his work well; if that security failed, a lot more people than just he were going to die.

Another wave of colors, in answer to his code, then a face appeared.  It was old, that face.  Older than he would have thought.  The light hair was turning distinctly grey and there were lines around the mouth and eyes.  Those eyes still held life, however, and a lightness that he had never really seen before.  Certainly no Docksider had ever had eyes with that much humor and hope in them.

A puzzled expression and the woman opened her mouth, about to speak.

Connor cut her off — he had thought through this moment a million times over the past days, had envisioned how it would turn out.  The fact that every single one of those dreams ended in misery and pain was just a fact of life.  How could it ever be any different for him?  Shou ga nai.

A choke for a moment, a second to find his breath past the block in his throat, then he spoke, “Hi, Mom…”

{Musical Note — I’ve mentioned these guys more than once as a major influence on me, but I wanted to go with them again. This song, especially, has as much to say to me personally as it does to Connor. And, yes, to ”get it” you really do have to listen to the lyrics! I post the live version because, well I absolutely love live music…and because I was actually at this particular show (at Denver’s Red Rocks amphitheater), so it has a huge place in my heart.}

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