Good afternoon from the silver city, where we anticipate the arrival of summer. Rain misted our skin as we journeyed around the neighborhood in search of stamps and sandwiches. The Seattle NFT museum is open, and I took a photo of the sign.
Presumably my photograph is worth roughly twenty million dollars by now, which is nice, because apparently my retirement accounts are melting down like sticks of butter at a summer barbecue. Oye!
I’m reading The Seraph Engine by I. O. Adler 📚
There were three things Miles Adler didn’t like about the bandits who had stopped the atomic grav train bound for Seraph. First, one of the robbers, a rangey puke wearing a tattered duster and a paisley bandana around his mouth, had punched the porter, who had unlocked the passenget car to let the two men in. The porter’s nose gushed blood as he cowered with the riders at the frontmost seats.
Second, both the little girls across from Miles who had been crying and fussing during the first half of their five-hour journey but had finally been distracted by their dad playing travel bingo and singing Tagalong lullabies were crying again. Their parents had them huddled and were attempting to calm them down.
And third, Miles was doing to miss his appointment with the man who was scheduled to kill him.
And I’m reading Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia 📚
On one otherwise normal Tuesday evening I had the chance to live the American dream. I was able to throw my incompetent jackass of a boss from a fourteenth-story window.
Now, I didn’t just wake up that morning and decide that I was going to kill my boss with my bare hands. It really was much more complicated than that. In my life up to that point I would never have even considered something that sounded so crazy. I was just a normal guy, a working stiff. Heck, I was an accountant. It doesn’t get much more mundane than that.
That one screwed-up event changed my life. Little did I realize that turning my boss into sidewalk pizza would have so many bizarre consequences. Well, technically, he did not actually hit the sidewalk. He landed on the roof of a double-parked Lincoln Navigator, but I digress.
My name is Owen Zastava Pitt and this is my story.
I’m not ready to join a full-on writing group, but I’ve signed back up for Critters. Submitting a weekly critique and reading lots of shorts is how I’ll be working on my skills for the next few months. I should probably get back to copying out 1000 words of fiction per day too. Ack! I never have enough time to do all the things I want to do.
This is a good problem to have.
Stranger Things & Strange New Worlds
Minor discussion of plot points ahead, but no major spoilers.
The two television shows tickling my fancy lately are Stranger Things and Strange New Worlds.
I loved how Stranger Things (season four episode one) contrasted “jocks and nerds” in with beautiful emotional synchronicity. Also, there was such a satisfying snap when the overarching connection tying the seasons together was revealed.
We watched episode six of Strange New Worlds last night, and what I loved most about it was that the story was pure science fiction. I love science fiction short stories, especially those that explore an ethical quandry, so those types of episodes are pure sci-fi catnip to me. Also, I kind of love that the Captain is (respectfully) banging his way through the universe. It’s old-school. I like Spock and I like Uhura and I dig that the characters are well-rounded people.
A New Week
I’m getting a super late start today. My to-do list awaits! May as well get going.
Have a good one.