Showing posts from August, 2016

Mongrel: Zebe's Plotting.

How Zebe's plotting plays out. 

“You’re right. SoHAB has the alien, and Beardy is right that my sister works there.” 
Joe listened with rising colour, as though he suspected her to be starting him on a wild whale chase. Zebe carried on fabricating. “Xanthe sent me some of the adulterated dust that they vacuum from the cage.”
Zebe shrugged. “We’re sisters. Twins. We play games. We send each other mysterious stuff to try and identify. We award each other points for winning and losing.”  
Joe narrowed his eyes. “I’m waiting to hear about the krill.”
Zebe turned to the curtained-off tank and switched on its internal display lights in the passing. Swept the curtaining aside. Almost said, Ta-rah! Turned back just in time to see Joe’s face as white as if his blood had drained away. Like he was the walking dead. He pointed at the display with a trembling finger. 
The water was bluish and clouded like a gassy underwater nebulae, crowded with silvery points, that, as they swam in be…

Mongrel: Zebe, one of the love interests.

In this, Snippet 7, we're back-tracking along Mongrel's timeline to pick up Zebe's story.
Zebe's apparent presence in Monster-Moored begins way back in Mortal, part 1 of the series. But her actual story begins here, just before Joe Loreno takes home a flask of the mysterious quick-gro material and spreads it over the Byron Bay hinterland with disastrous consequences for our hero. 

Zebe flitted to the wet room before dawn. And anyway, in the below-sea-level tunnel of aquaria, dawn was a foreign concept. Lights would begin to glow in the different tanks at the appropriate times for their individual days to start. Each tank had its own cycle. 
She’d stayed all day yesterday watching the mysterious new process, like a rabbit trapped in a python’s stare. By the end of the day, the mass moved of its own accord with silver specks glittering through it as if they were alive. 
She laughed nervously because this morning krill-type beings swarmed through the tank. All of them with…

Mongrel: Learning a bit more of the Stormy lingo

Still in the chapter where Tardi and his Stormy companions have arrived at the Reefarium. They're meeting Cele King, an important figure in the saga. Trinnet teaches us all a bit more of the lingo and Shad makes friends with Callum. 
Callum met them in the entry hall, having parked the chuffer near an elevator platform. 
“What about unloading?” said Shad.
The boy flashing Shad a smile with his pearlised teeth. “Later we can?” he offered. He pushed through a set of double doors ahead of them, then stood aside and, Tardi was vaguely aware, closed the doors behind them with himself on the outside. 
Cele King stood in the middle of the room, the same woman Tardi saw in his monster-generated visions, back when he still surfed for a living. 
She greeted Shad and Trinnet, elaborately getting their names. “Stormy?” she said. “Is that a cult local to where you come from? It must have been quite something to decide to travel in these difficult times.”
In other words, she was performing a to…

Mongrel: A Live-mind Freighter and an Arrival

Numerals refer to the order of posting. In the final manuscript some of these scenes will have been shifted here and there ...

These are a couple more of the areas I'm writing in. Centred around Tardi Mack, the main character and his journey toward the monster's physical abode. The Freighter is a just the description of the truck. My intention is always to describe through living the experience. Let me know if that works for you?
The second part, Across the Water, is the section where Tardi, Shad and Trinnet travel from the shore to the Reefarium. By boat, it is a new experience for the Stormies. This is the description of an activity, easier to have it be experienced. Again, all and every comment will be appreciated. 
4. The freighter looked fearsome enough to give anyone second thoughts catching a ride. Snub-nosed with no windscreen or side windows visible, a huge steel-look B-double. Articulated rather than joined and so from straight-on, it resembled a long large locomotive. 

Mongrel: A Misfit and a Pair of Mules

Still working in the connective tissue mode, in Snippet Two Tardi discovers Shad is his cousin by marriage as well as by choice, and some culture, language and en-flummoxment ....

Snippet 2:

Shad led them onto a service road beside the sugarcane fields on the flat land.  “Good place to boil a billy. Peace and quiet. Cane only half high, big enough to hide us without losing the breeze.”
Trinnet and Shad hunkered. 
“You still don’t trust the entity entirely?” Trinnet said with a glance at Tardi sitting on his blue tarp. Tardi countered. “You believe it knows what a promise is?”
“I believe he thinks promises are for little people like us.”
“How big is he, to your mind?” Tardi said. 
How would Trinnet interpret Tardi’s project of finding a road into the Stormy three-dot history?  “There I go again, believing in him no holds barred. What will you do with me?” Trinnet said without a change in tone for his question. 
That was Trinnet trying to slip something by someone? “How is it up to me to…

Monster-Moored Series: Part 2, Mongrel

There be snippets happening. The connective tissue needed to convert a bunch of scenes into the first draft of a novel. This bit was posted in Saturday Scenes two weeks ago.

Snippet One has Tardi learning to get on with various members of his new family. New, as in, him not being aware he was related to them until halfway Monster-Moored Part 1: Mortal. They are Stormies, with a culture and dialect he's having to learn as well.

Tardi lay totally enwrapped in the tarp. No concrete here to stop the tree in him growing while he slept. With his face at the fold-over to be able to breathe, he said, “What’s a trey apart from a three?”
Despite the tarp’s impermeability and instead of slop-slop, he worked his muscles. Contracting and releasing them in his feet, his lower legs, his thighs. Lower back, shoulders. The tarp’s tired old folds shifted and shirred over the ground.
“You never saw us but singly or in threes,” Trinnet said. He’d rolled himself into a smoothed old polar fleece blanket. “…