F3 The Spy

            Flynn studied the man in the closet, who had metal bindings on his wrists. Eltie had also taken advantage of the servos in her armor to hang him from a hook in the closet. The binders cut into the man's wrists with his entire weight on them. Despite the injury, the man looked nonplused. He had a few years on Flynn, looking to be in his early fifties with iron grey hair and eyes that matched. He had a shaggy beard peppered with the black of his original hair color. In the small hole in his beard, he had on a casual, easy smile. As if we were old friends.

NaNo Lifespan

            I think it’s because NaNo is over after the thirty days. A large number of people finish out their time at NaNo and never look back, never move forward. Those of us serious about writing know that manuscript not only has to be drafted (which is never done in 50,000 words), but then revised, proofed, revised again, etc.

            It’s a much bigger commitment than 30 days, and those of us who spend time writing all year long don’t’ have time for the games and artifice of NaNo’s structure.

            I remember reading on NaNo forums people who spent months in preparation, creating profiles of their characters, of detailing their settings and plot points, all so that they could begin writing on the stroke of midnight, and all I can think of now is that instead of doing nothing but preparing to write, you should write.

           

NaNo Over

            Another NaNo is over. Every year I think to myself that I’m not going to do it, and every year I end up making at least the attempt. The last couple of years have been less formal, and I haven’t interacted with anyone in my local rea with the event. I simply quietly plug along with my own progress, unconcerned about anyone else.

            I guess this is because, at least in my mind, it’s changed. It’s no longer a community event to see if I can do it. I already know I can do it. It’s a question of whether or not I will do it. And I don’t need the cheerleading aspect of NaNo in order to write. I don’t need word drills and hanging out in coffee shops with a crowd of people that are, at best, only semi-serious about writing.

            In a highly informal poll of writer friends, most of them end up moving away from Nano as well. Oh, they still write. In fact they outpace NaNo writers. The last four years I’ve done NaNo I’ve haven’t felt any real pressure that I was behind and couldn’t get it done. Even with attending Crime Bake, which eats up a good three days of writing I could still get it done without difficulty. Yes, some of it was down to the wire, but it still got done.

            But it is interesting to see the more serious, and especially the professionally paid, writers move away from NaNo.

           

F3 Among the Stars

            Thanksgiving in deep space and on a ship is always different from being on a planet, especially a core planet. On board Fleet ships, Flynn always had to endure what Suppo—the ship’s Supply Officer—could get, and while it almost always included some form of turkey, it was barely edible and not recognizable as belonging to fowl.

Giving Thanks

            I could list all the many great things I’ve been blessed with, but I won’t. Instead, I’m actually thankful for the challenges and hardships. They push me to make more of myself, and I certainly don’t enjoy going through them at the time, I know that I become a better me by facing the challenges and hardship, and those bring opportunities. And I’m thankful for the help of family, friends, and—most of all—God, to help me get through it all.

           

Lull

            It’s the semester lull. All major class projects are in, and we’re largely on autopilot, which is good for me. I can get back to other projects. I’m glad I always plan for these parts of the semester. The semesters are easier on me and easier on the students when these lulls come.

            Now, back to other, more pressing work.

F3 The Pilot

            Flynn eased Calypso into the asteroid mining facility feeling more than a little uneasy. Small mining vessels flitted about cutting into the rock with lasers. They would slice off a section, grapple it, then haul it to a collection ship, which used a gravnet siphon to put the pieces in a holding area. While the flight path Flynn was on was supposed to be reserved for traffic into and out of the mine, miners zipped around Flynn’s ship from all sides. They had to in order to make their quotas.

Release

            Stress does funny things. The mental/emotional pressure from stress should qualify as a force like electromagnetic or gravitational, but physicists are hung up on things that affect the physical world. Still, stress is something that we can’t measure, can only gauge by feel, and it affects everyone differently. There have been times in my life where I’ve succumbed to illness because of stress. When I was younger I found myself regularly ill whenever the stress was too high.

            As I’ve gotten older, that’s happened less and less. Either I’ve gotten better at coping with the stress, or I’ve built up a tolerance to it. Probably a little bit of both. I do know that I’m consciously trying to reduce stress in my life, and a big part of that is simply releasing it.

            I’m not talking about letting go, though that can be part of it. I’m talking about not keeping it bottled in. It’s amazing what talking about stress can do, but that’s not the only avenue. Hobbies and other activities take stress away from us, and I find myself using a variety of means to make sure I keep my stress under control.

            And as odd as it sounds, learning and research relieves some of my stress—if the subjects are ones I choose. So in that regard my writing ends up doing double duty so I can research climate patterns, bizarre weather phenomenon (like volcanic smoke rings), dark matter nebulae, sailing vessels, Central Asian mythology, and more to get rid of stress. I get to indulge my curiosity and wonder at how awesome the world, the universe, is.

            And it’s a heck of a lot cheaper than doctors.

           

The Hill

            Well, it’s official, now. I’m middle-aged. The big four zero. And I’ve endured some merciless messages from friends, to which I’ve reminded most of them that they passed this barrier years before me. But I am older.

            Thing is, while I do feel older in some respects, I’m still very much a kid at heart. And I don’t intend to let a number related to how long I’ve been on the planet change that. I won’t talk about young kids being whipper snappers or how it used to be back in the good old days.

            And of course comes the rumination and self-evaluation of where I’m at in my life. Am I where I thought I’d be? No. Am I where I’d like to be? That’s more complicated. Yes and no. I think, though, the big step is to just keep moving forward, to make sure I am truly living life instead of being along for the ride.

           

F3 The Engineer

            For three months, Flynn and Eltie did short runs from Pallas Station to Genoa, a new agricultural colony near Vela. The colony constantly needed parts, equipment, and medicine, while Flynn brought back textiles. Unfortunately, Flynn noticed an increasing tendency for Calypso to need repairs.