Hey! Looks like you found the projects page—good for you :). I’m hoping to keep this page as a kind of up-to-date repository for all the stuff I’m working on. As you can see here, it’s a bit sparse—that’s mostly because I only have one project going on at the moment—but in the future I’m hoping to have a multitude of works described here, both finished and not. So here goes nothing!
PS—the little roman numerals you see are to indicate draft numbers—thought I’d clear that up.
Genre: Science fiction, philosophy, satire
Started: October 2017
Length: 4500 words
Ended: Still in progress
So far, an intrepidly odd unnamed age-undetermined male character posing as a scientist has secured himself a spot on the Society of New Earth’s newest jumpship, where he intends to conduct secret studies on the very fabric of the universe. As the launch timer for the ship’s maiden voyage ticks down to zero, though, saboteurs bomb the thing right as it opens a portal to escape, and the Prime Minister is simultaneously poisoned.
But what will happen to our intrepid hero now? Has the jumpship survived? Will good triumph over the yet undefined evil villain? Will the story ever actually be finished by its author??
Tune in next time to learn the answers. Until then, folks…
DUN DUN DUUUUHHH.
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Sorry, the excerpt you’re looking for hasn’t yet been added to this post. If you need to see the piece, try contacting the host of this blog and yelling furiously at them for thirty minutes over the phone about why they’re procrastinating writing it by writing this error notice instead. Otherwise, try loading up this page again in two to six months for better results.
It’s exciting to be working on something again. The title’s new, and may change a lot before this is all over, but who knows in the end?? In my head, I see this project as an epic mashup of Doctor Strange and Fantastic Beasts, with a satirical element thrown in for fun, but odds are it will turn out nothing like that. Progress has been slow, but that’s mostly because I blog away most of my writing time
Genre: Science fiction, young adult
Started: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Circa 2010.
Length: 32 000 words, 68 pages, 10 chapters (for those who care), 180877 characters (for those who care more), 148193 characters excluding spaces (for…actually I’m not even sure)
Ended: Progress delayed as of October 2017. Not yet finished. MAY NEVER BE FINISHED.
A boy named Liam lives with a bunch of space hippies in a commune…and that’s about it.
The boy named Liam gets a reboot, lives with hippies, leaves said hippies, gets captured by the evil government; is imprisoned, electrocuted, and whiny. Special cameo made by the Tesseract from the Avengers as the McGuffin (patched in next release).
A young man by the name of Liam Troy has lived in a refugee community orbiting a far out star for thirteen years. He doesn’t know how he got there, just that him and his sister arrived alone long ago. Things start a-happening, though, and before long our hero leaves his community and hitchhikes to the stars on a government ship. Only one problem—the government doesn’t want him hitchhiking anywhere
But they do want him for something.
He’s just not sure yet what. (dramatic music)
>>> userAccess – – – success
>>> decrypting . . .
You know how when sometimes after you read a good fantasy book, you have this sort of wistful feeling? Kind of like… a vague unsettledness—because the people in the book live in such a crazy-cool world—and you find yourself wondering why you don’t get to live where people have magic powers and the laws of physics to give up and go home early?
I used to get that feeling after a lot of books. I used to read more books than I do now. When I had free time, I would read a lot. Inevitably, though, my free time wouldn’t last forever. Then, when I started to work with the refugees, that free time slowly dwindled. Like the last seconds of a candle flame, I watched my life go from bright and warm and alive to cold, wispy, meaningless smoke.
The flame went out when I was ten. That’s when the refugees decided I needed to be a part of the community—that I had to join the exodus of other ten-year-olds on their first day at work. The boy next to me on the shuttle was too shy to talk to me, and the girl on my other side was already energetically engaged in conversation with someone else. Right from the start, I knew I was in for a drab fifty years.
I wasn’t lonely—I always saw my sister at lunch break and the ride home—and after a while the faceless people I worked with suddenly had names like Susan and Robert and Xander, but there was something else nagging at me constantly. It was a sort of everpresent feeling of uselessness. The end of each new day left me feeling unaccomplished, empty, and straight-out bored.
Not altogether far out from how I am right now.
My name is Liam. I’m—well I’m technically somewhere around 15 years old, give or take a year (more on that later). I left the refugees around two months ago, and now because of it I’m slumped pathetically against a wall in a cold cell with no starview and no heater composing the Tragedy of Troy. Which, possibly even more pathetically, someone’s actually reading (or I assume someone is—or will be).
I used to wish I could have powers, and go on adventures, and face crises like a boss.
Let me tell you from firsthand experience—the me that wanted that was severely misinformed.
Look—I’m an optimist by nature. I’m hard to beat because I stubbornly hold on to whatever’s in reach. Sure, I’m in a cell, but hey, at least I’m not starving! Scratch that, my last meal was a week ago. But wait! You’re still alive! And with all four limbs (that’s a bonus)! Barely. And I don’t round up on limbs. In my opinion, the hand should have to have all five fingers for the arm to count, so I’m closer to three and three-quarters limbs, and maybe a bit more.
Point is, don’t get your hopes up to be a hero. The odds aren’t in your favor.
But of course: sit back, relax, and read on. Just don’t expect to be awestruck and inspired by a wondrous tale of a special teenage boy who makes some friends, meets a mentor, and by the end everything’s all happy-go-lucky, and-they-lived-happily-ever-after. I hate to break it to you, but a.) my name’s not Harry, and b.) I’m not a wizard.
No, my story isn’t like that.
I worked on Frontier for a long time. I got all the way to above 30 000 words. and then I shut it down, so yeah. I thought it was going to be a great story and it wasn’t as great as I thought it was, which is why I replaced it with something else.