It’s a bittersweet thing, putting the finishing touches on a novel.
Sweet, in that you’ve achieved a significant, hard-won victory over your own procrastinations, distractions, and the inertia of life. Sweet, in that you can look back and remember fondly crafting the intricate puzzles of your plot, the subtle painting of your scenes, and the gentle creation of your characters, watching over them like a benevolent parent.
Bitter, in that you are rapidly running out of opportunities to ruin those little bastards’ lives and murder them in interesting ways.
Mine and Chris Kennedy’s new book (and first installment of a new potential series?) is getting wrapped up. I’m putting the finishing touches on the ultimate chapter / epilog / teaser (for installment numero dos). Then we go into heavy editing, beta-reading, cover design, layout, packaging, printing, & publishing, followed by marketing, pre-selling, early reviews, and eventual actual sales.
Very soon, The Mutineer’s Daughter will be out, and you’ll have the opportunity and privilege to gladly fork over your beer money. You can let it thrill you, surprise you, and intrigue you far better than your latest Hollywood factory offering (except maybe John Wick, that shit RULES).
All your fun lies in the future. All mine very nearly lies in the past. No more fictional death and dismemberment*. No more eye-popping destruction (literally) as you get sucked into space and roasted by your own exhaust plume. No more thermonuclear explosion-derived, radiation-pumped x-ray laser beam warhead driven immolation. No more being flayed by thousands of tungsten BB’s. No more falling to your deaths down alien mineshafts. No more getting stabbed through the heart with jagged hull metal. No more decapitation via relativistic railgun rounds. No more demises by excessive ragdolling.
(Note: THIS ALL HAPPENS IN THE BOOK.)
There’s also a ton of folks that get shot.
Some folks get shot from orbit.
Aaaaahhhhh. Fun stuff.
But, the important point here is that technically I’m still writing. And editing. And more than capable of doing a global search and replace to put your name in place of Hapless Casualty #3 … to “redshirt” you in other words, to make you forever immortalized as Dead Crewperson Number 7 in The Mutineer’s Daughter.
If you would like to suffer such a(n) (ig)noble fate, comment below, or tweet, or Facebook myself or Chris. I’ve already gotten a bunch of names, but I do kill a whole lotta folks in this, so don’t be shy.
Chris and I are happy to have our baby kill you. (Nope. No way that sentence sounds bad out of context….)
And, I’m interested: what’s the best/worst death you’ve ever encountered in fiction, movies, books, or otherwise?
See? I’ll go first. For me it’s a toss-up between the Nazi face-melting scene in Raiders and the snow-cutter scene in Larry Corriea’s Monster Hunter Alpha (so many undead sliced and diced….).
What’s yours?! Whether you’re in as a redshirt or not, I want to see your comments!
* (until the sequel)
5 thoughts on “We Who Are About To Die Salute You (middle fingers only)”
I’m 84, so I have a vested interest in knowing what my death, fictional or not, would be. Been read ing SF since the early 1940s…helped keep me sane (don’t ask the misses about that).
So many to choose from:
“I would like to have seen Montana.”
“I have been… and always shall be… your friend. Live long and prosper!”
“Arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! A sword day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now! Ride now! Ride to ruin and the world’s end! Death! Death! DEATH!”
It’s so close!
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”
– Roy Batty
Oh, you poor, poor bastard. You die the worst . . . .