James II Stewart, King of Scotland, may be my 13th great grandfather. I'm considering returning to the old country to reclaim the throne. If the records are correct, it would explain many of the impulses I usually refrain from following:
"James broke into a fit of temper and stabbed Douglas 26 times and threw his body out of a window." 

I understand how that could be very satisfying--for James, I mean. I'm pretty sure Douglas enjoyed neither the perforations nor the defenestration--but not being the actual king and all, I'll continue to refrain. It also looks like the link to James II is based on a son I don't see in the official records; perhaps an illegitimate son, a wrong genealogical connection, or a fake person. I'll withhold my claims to the throne at this point.

***
As for writing this week, I passed 42K words, meaning I'm halfway done. I had a sudden impulse (see above) to kill off a character but decided that the death would be meaningless at this point and something short of death would be a great opportunity to add to the development of two characters. The death would have had purpose but the impact upon the reader would have been minimal.

I don't like to kill off characters. I've killed off some in Rude Eye. While those characters had an emotional connection for another character; readers would not have become very invested in them; their deaths were important for how they affected the main character's choices. I killed off a major character in Justice Resurgent because the story called for it--but it wasn't fun to write. 

The good news is that the writing is getting easier as I'm now headed downhill. If I don't have to stop to look up something, I find I'm writing the daily allotment in less than an hour. It's still far from the homestretch but now it's a matter of laying down the scenes in the proper order and leaping from one to the next until the end.  Of course, there will be complications that I have not foreseen.

One fun part of the book is the development of the two magic systems. The major system has been developing from the start. A secondary system is one that I did not foresee when I started the book but it fits in as part of an aspect of a secondary character and has been fun to think about; it's much simpler than the major system in the book but has a lot of potential.

Most of the characters have been hurt in some way at this point--the title is Power to Hurt, so that should be expected.

***
Hank and Brett might wonder:
Could Stretch Armstrong have changed the outcome of Avengers Endgame? 
Would the conclusion of Game of Thrones have been more satisfying if Apollo Creed had danced his way to the throne to the music of James Brown?

I haven't seen either of those so I'm not qualified to speculate, but it makes you wonder.

If you're looking for a reason to read Threading The Rude Eye, you need look no further than this review:

 Beyond satisfying! May 17, 2019

I loved this book! I especially love America's Revolutionary Era and the story set in this period. Characters were complex and varied in their growth, the story was thrilling and captivating. Having read other books by this author, he does not disappoint in his story telling abilities. I consider this author a master storyteller and this book a masterpiece!

It's not often that I get that kind of review - the 5 stars are not uncommon; the unconditional praise as a masterpiece is rather more rare. To be honest, I don't consider any of my books to be a masterpiece. Smoke does come the closest in my opinion - of course, your mileage may vary. I will, however, receive and bask in the sweet warming rays of such praise when I can. You can judge for yourself by clicking the link at the upper left to get your own copy of Threading The Rude Eye - or any of my other books on that side of the page. 

I'm at 36K words on the sequel which means it's nearly half complete. I sort of got lost in that fog that always drifts in on me somewhere between the 30k and 40k word mark. I lost writing time rethinking some plot points and characters, doing some outlining and attempting to get the major scenes in the proper order before I started writing them. I found it helpful to write the final scene, an exciting confrontation toward which the first two books have been building. Writing the ending and ordering the other scenes helped clear some of the fog. I'm hoping the rest will clear as I race through it at increasing speed--because the pace and action will continue to mount from this point.

***

I don't usually listen to music while I write. I prefer to get immersed in the story and characters without the danger of being pulled away by some music that I like. On the other hand, if I'm writing while other things are going on--someone else watching a television program or movie, for instance--I will put in the earbuds and either play classical music, or play one of two playlists. One is a compilation of favorite downloaded music; the other are tunes that I have selected and compiled especially for writing time. There is some overlap. The songs on the list that might be considered "classic rock" (like Stairway to Heaven, Ziggy Stardust, Black Magic Woman, and all of the Queen or Rush songs) are actually the Vitamin String Quartet versions which are quite nice with no lyrics: 

I suppose a generous characterization of the lists would be: eclectic.

You don't often see a mix of Electric Light Orchestra, Styx, some French artists, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, Nat King Cole, Little River Band, Jethro Tull, Handel, Wagner, Christopher Cross, soft instrumental versions of classic rock tunes, and Doris Day.

Someone has said that being a mother means being more concerned with someone else's welfare than your own. That really seems like all one needs to say about the subject, except of course for: Thanks, mom.

Some women are ill-prepared to be moms at first--that's probably why the first child must be naturally resilient and able to take a fall--or a ride under the bench in a jeep without disturbing the four-wheeling revelers. Most moms get the hang of it before any permanent damage is inflicted. Then the second child comes along and totally wrecks the paradigm.

Life without moms be like:

In fact, I guess we would have no life without moms.

***
In writing this week, Power to Hurt has passed the 32K word mark. If I were using a three-act formula, I would be starting the second act. That formula actually fits this particular novel quite well. One character has suffered a debilitating injury; another has crossed an important threshold and continues to develop the power that has been passed on; one pair have overcome some stiff opposition; another pair have made a choice that will be crucial to the final outcome (but of course, they don't know that). Decisions all around will have serious repercussions as the hurt factor will soon ramp up significantly. Some new and important characters have appeared and an enemy has received a temporary set back that is sure to whet the appetite for vengeance. Some of the strands will come together in the climax while others will not fully develop until the third book (as of yet untitled). All this will mean nothing if you don't read Threading the Rude Eye, the exciting opener of this series  of Tomahawks and Dragon Fire. It is currently available on for Kindle or in paperback.

"A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other works of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself."
--Thoreau

I suspect that some might disagree with Thoreau's statement above, but I won't. Steling W. Sill referred in a talk to Nicolas Appert and likened his development of food preservation, or canning, to the written word and books as the method for preserving ideas.

The following shaded text is an excerpt from that talk:

Someone has said that “books are among life’s most precious possessions. They are the most remarkable creation of man. Nothing else that man builds ever lasts. Monuments fall, civilizations perish, but books continue. The perusal of a great book is, as it were, an interview with the noblest men of past ages who have written it.”

Charles Kingsley said,

Except a living man there is nothing more wonderful than a book! A message to us from the dead, from human souls we never saw, who lived perhaps thousands of miles away. And yet these [little sheets of paper speak to us,] arouse us, . . . teach us, . . . open their hearts to us as brothers.

Without books, God is silent, justice dormant, philosophy lame.

John Milton said,

Books are not . . . dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy . . . of that living intellect that bred them [Areopagitica]

Speaking of great books, I'm at 27K words on Power to Hurt--that's roughly a third of the way done. I finished the writing of an interesting aerial duel and a crucial attempt at purloining a powerful pebble. There are still problems for a couple characters at sea and Cartier's cache is still the main Macguffin for the rest of the cast--which continues to grow. 

***

*

I helped with dinner tonight. Admittedly, "helped" is a subjective term. I didn't go into the kitchen to help; I was merely curious. I had heard a new sound coming from that part of the house. It was the air fryer or air cooker or something like that (why we need to cook or fry air is beyond me) that I've been trying to persuade my wife is the perfect mother's day gift from me--even though I had nothing to do with getting it. The heretofore-unused-machine was making a noise like a blow dryer caught in the garbage disposal. I wanted to see how she worked the new gadget. Before I knew, it she had me putting chicken wings into the thing. The contraption looks like the love child of R2-D2 and Nomad in gray and chrome with a drawer that cooks (or sterilizes). The experience ended like the picture** below.

Everything went well until my wife had me administer a dose of olive oil to the viands. The administering (or is it administration?) went fine; the aftermath went otherwise. While putting away the large (and mostly full) plastic bottle, it wriggled from my fingers. I had already opened the door to the lower cabinet when the bottle made its escape. The bottle fell tilted at an angle as I tried in vain to maintain my grip upon it. It struck the base of the open cabinet at about 60 degrees, taking the impact in the side. The plastic compressed enough to blow the lid from the bottle. Behind the lid came a great splorting warhead of oil which burst at the altitude for best possible dispersal to include me, the cabinet, the cabinet door, the contents of the cabinet, and the floor in its kill-zone. I may not be invited back; so I got that going for me. No, really. It slipped.

The wings were excellent. I approve of the R2-D2/Nomad heated atmospheric food prep apparatus.

*The picture (I think) comes from Lileks.com.

**This picture comes from the bleat comments of Lileks.com by a commentor whose handle is Flangepart.