So, why can’t I finish one of these stories? Is it because of a curse, or the cat threatening my keyboard? (down, down!) No, I don’t think so. It’s all about discipline.

I like to explore and take a character, usually a form of me, to places and see what I’d do. I put him or her into a situation and let him go. Damned if I know why he does the things he does. Along the way he discovers things about himself and through him, me.

But that doesn’t explain why I can’t end a story. Like I said, it’s about discipline. Darkside took five years to write his 2.6meg monster by outlining the whole thing first, then sticking to his outline. I tried, but I just keep finding new paths. Every scene has a plan, but I never know how, precisely, I’m going to do it until I start actually writing it. Sometimes, to stay true to my character, he or she has other ideas.

The story becomes a juggernaut, rolling a way I sometimes don’t want, towards a conclusion I don’t desire. So, I throw obstacles in its path to divert it towards my planned-for ending. That usually works. But it’s a learning experience. It tells me I need discipline.

Anyway, for anybody who is reading this, I have three stories outstanding — all of which I will complete.

The Warrior from Batuk: A Zhor novel about a warrior who is injected with Ruk’s serum and becomes a serum girl, a beautiful woman with the longings of a natural slave. But she won’t give up her freedom without a fight, battling herself and her enemies in a war to save her city. — 90% complete. (really) About 230K words so far, but the end is clearly in sight.

Sample:

“Now you die,” smiled the guard toothily and moved forward.

I shuffled backwards and the King, still on his back, somehow managed to trip me. I fell painfully and lost the spear with a flick of the guard’s sword. From my elbows, I looked up to a blade hovering above my breasts, and beyond, to a cool confident smile. It seemed that it was not my day. And then, from behind me, a well-thrown long spear flashed, penetrating his breastplate and mail with a metallic ‘snick!’ sinking deep into the center of his chest. The spear’s power compelled him backwards to fall across the shrieking woman on the bed, where he passed from the world with a shuddering groan.

His sword, an instant earlier aligned to invade my heart, merely dropped, cutting a deep gash in the valley between softness. I caught the sharp sword between palms before it could fall further. I reveled in my pain, and paid tribute to the fickle God of Luck with the breath I didn’t think I’d have. I rolled over slowly and crawled to the King on my knees. Yanking the spear from his stomach had done him further injury; it was all he could do now to hold his insides in place, but still, his wound, although very serious, wasn’t necessarily fatal with prompt attention, and I couldn’t allow him to survive. Grabbing the King’s jewel-incrusted sword, I held it under his chin, poised for a thrust into his brain. He was too weak to protest, but he was aware, and I bent to his ear.

“You are a brave man,” I whispered. “You deserve to know why you are going to die.”

He glared at me through eyes glazed in pain. “You Gods-cursed Giovannis came early,” he rasped. “I expected you after the Borodins left.”

I shook my head. Grinning, I met his glare. “I’m from Batuk.” I waited a few inches from his face until I saw the light of understanding, and then thrust the sword upwards. The sharply pointed end, capable of penetrating plate armor, had no problem with soft tissue. He collapsed and voided in death, fouling the air around me.

I stood slowly and leaned against the bloody blade, watching the terrified woman on the bed, a pretty girl with auburn hair and blue eyes. She appeared to regret throwing those pillows at me. I smiled. She cringed.

Sappho: The Lesbian Planet: A scout from the far future lands on a lesbian world where there are no men and men have been written into history as vile animals. Rescued by ‘throwbacks’ (hetero women), he tries to get back to Earth, but he won’t leave unchanged. — 80% complete 55K words so far.

Unity: Houston: A VR world where the brain patterns of people can be preserved in a cube and placed in a VR environment, essentially living forever in worlds both mundane and magical. But are they alive, and who protects them? — 80% finished about 150K words so far.