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ksmith*mind going like the Mac rainbow twirly-twirly...working...working*
Wrote until about 1:30am. Hit my quota, but after a few nights of managing only 700-800 words, not too psyched about the numbers.
Read Fleshmarket Alley until about 330am because I wanted to finish it, damn and blast. Rankin tends to allow his jim dandy personalities/office politics to overshadow the crimes that have been committed, imo, but I was able to keep track of this lot and in the end it all made as much sense as it could. Not up there with The Falls, which I still consider his best Rebus book, but not bad.
Woke up around 6am. Started thinking very, very hard about the climax of J5. I had thought for quite some time that I had it nailed, that it made sense even though it was a tad...different. I would have been trying something that I hadn't set up in any of the previous books, and while in synopsis form the rationale was there, as I continued to write...I started having problems with it. The feel was off. I think that in a different sort of book, a different sort of series, it would have worked quite well. But I don't think it will work in Janiland.
So I reworked the climax in my head. It's more trouble for Jani, but it's also more in keeping with the tone of previous books. It's not a major refurb, just a tweak along with a few changes to the preceding subplot. But now I know what I'm heading toward, and I'm hoping the clarity aids in the page production thing.
Still, managed to get Jani aboard the Haarin ship, along with Lucien, Dathim, and a dog. What I thought would be a simple confrontation--Feyó and Niall are due to turn up Any Minute Now--is instead blowing up into a hunt for evidence.
It's hard to define how much the tone of this book has changed over the last few weeks. Maybe not in any substantial way on paper, but in my head, it's taken on a different form. The devil is in the details, and his name is Legion. It's a restless, itchy place, but someone who writes as I do has to reach it in order to get to the heart of the thing and make it pump. Insert your fave "It's alive! It's alive!" imagery here.
And to wrap things up, a snippet. Jani and Lucien, killing time at Guernsey Station. I think the business needs a little work, but overall the scene does what it has to.
*************
"I've missed this." Lucien opened a packet of fried potatoes and dumped them on the tray next to his sandwich.
Jani eyed the grease-stained wrappers and half-empty cups that littered the surrounding tables, the dull brown flooring and garish lighting. "What, the understated elegance of it all?"
Lucien picked up his sandwich and bit into it, then looked at her over the top. "Being able to eat without wondering what I should say next. Is it time to talk about the weather, or say something risqué, or make you laugh?" He picked up a potato wedge, eyeing it skeptically before popping it in his mouth. "Is it time for me to make you feel like you're getting your money's worth?"
Jani sipped her tea, then set down her cup. Glanced at passersby, and saw that they still stared. But not at me. Not when there was a vision in white and gold to rest their weary eyes upon. You know what you look like, Captain. And he knew to the fraction of a Commonwealth dollar what that was worth. "You chose your path, Lucien."
A smile flashed, then slowly faded. "To some extent. For the most part, it was chosen for me." Lucien took another bite of his sandwich, then winced and dropped the remains onto his tray. "I was granted certain options. Military, or civilian diplomatic? University or Service academy? The trappings and trim. But the essentials, such as my augmentation. I had no choice there."
Jani reached into the pile atop the tray and freed a packet of spiced nuts. "Anais set out to build herself a personal killer."
"Would it surprise you?" Lucien's eyebrows arched. "I wouldn't think anything about her would surprise you. My very first job was for her. A colonial official who had pledged J-Loop support for her first run at the Exterior Ministry, then reneged." He tore open a packet of mayonnaise and squirted it over the potatoes. "I made some adjustments to his lakeskimmer. He left for a jaunt over a lake near his home, and never returned."
Jani watched Lucien pick up a potato wedge and bite into it. In a saner world, he'd be telling her of his latest lover or the new skimmer he had his eye on, but his world had never been the least sane. "Anais had someone killed for failing to fix an election."
"And some people think the bad old days ended twenty years ago during the post-civil war ethics sweep." Lucien smiled. "My first kill. It will be eleven years ago next month. I was just sixteen." He sat back, his head to one side. A dreamy cast softened his chill brown eyes. "Not so young, perhaps. I would bet that you and Pierce grew up with a few juvenile criminals who make me look a late bloomer."
"Oh, I don't know." Jani crunched down on a roasted almond. "I think you could hold your own against any budding sociopath we could muster."
Wrote until about 1:30am. Hit my quota, but after a few nights of managing only 700-800 words, not too psyched about the numbers.
Read Fleshmarket Alley until about 330am because I wanted to finish it, damn and blast. Rankin tends to allow his jim dandy personalities/office politics to overshadow the crimes that have been committed, imo, but I was able to keep track of this lot and in the end it all made as much sense as it could. Not up there with The Falls, which I still consider his best Rebus book, but not bad.
Woke up around 6am. Started thinking very, very hard about the climax of J5. I had thought for quite some time that I had it nailed, that it made sense even though it was a tad...different. I would have been trying something that I hadn't set up in any of the previous books, and while in synopsis form the rationale was there, as I continued to write...I started having problems with it. The feel was off. I think that in a different sort of book, a different sort of series, it would have worked quite well. But I don't think it will work in Janiland.
So I reworked the climax in my head. It's more trouble for Jani, but it's also more in keeping with the tone of previous books. It's not a major refurb, just a tweak along with a few changes to the preceding subplot. But now I know what I'm heading toward, and I'm hoping the clarity aids in the page production thing.
Still, managed to get Jani aboard the Haarin ship, along with Lucien, Dathim, and a dog. What I thought would be a simple confrontation--Feyó and Niall are due to turn up Any Minute Now--is instead blowing up into a hunt for evidence.
It's hard to define how much the tone of this book has changed over the last few weeks. Maybe not in any substantial way on paper, but in my head, it's taken on a different form. The devil is in the details, and his name is Legion. It's a restless, itchy place, but someone who writes as I do has to reach it in order to get to the heart of the thing and make it pump. Insert your fave "It's alive! It's alive!" imagery here.
And to wrap things up, a snippet. Jani and Lucien, killing time at Guernsey Station. I think the business needs a little work, but overall the scene does what it has to.
*************
"I've missed this." Lucien opened a packet of fried potatoes and dumped them on the tray next to his sandwich.
Jani eyed the grease-stained wrappers and half-empty cups that littered the surrounding tables, the dull brown flooring and garish lighting. "What, the understated elegance of it all?"
Lucien picked up his sandwich and bit into it, then looked at her over the top. "Being able to eat without wondering what I should say next. Is it time to talk about the weather, or say something risqué, or make you laugh?" He picked up a potato wedge, eyeing it skeptically before popping it in his mouth. "Is it time for me to make you feel like you're getting your money's worth?"
Jani sipped her tea, then set down her cup. Glanced at passersby, and saw that they still stared. But not at me. Not when there was a vision in white and gold to rest their weary eyes upon. You know what you look like, Captain. And he knew to the fraction of a Commonwealth dollar what that was worth. "You chose your path, Lucien."
A smile flashed, then slowly faded. "To some extent. For the most part, it was chosen for me." Lucien took another bite of his sandwich, then winced and dropped the remains onto his tray. "I was granted certain options. Military, or civilian diplomatic? University or Service academy? The trappings and trim. But the essentials, such as my augmentation. I had no choice there."
Jani reached into the pile atop the tray and freed a packet of spiced nuts. "Anais set out to build herself a personal killer."
"Would it surprise you?" Lucien's eyebrows arched. "I wouldn't think anything about her would surprise you. My very first job was for her. A colonial official who had pledged J-Loop support for her first run at the Exterior Ministry, then reneged." He tore open a packet of mayonnaise and squirted it over the potatoes. "I made some adjustments to his lakeskimmer. He left for a jaunt over a lake near his home, and never returned."
Jani watched Lucien pick up a potato wedge and bite into it. In a saner world, he'd be telling her of his latest lover or the new skimmer he had his eye on, but his world had never been the least sane. "Anais had someone killed for failing to fix an election."
"And some people think the bad old days ended twenty years ago during the post-civil war ethics sweep." Lucien smiled. "My first kill. It will be eleven years ago next month. I was just sixteen." He sat back, his head to one side. A dreamy cast softened his chill brown eyes. "Not so young, perhaps. I would bet that you and Pierce grew up with a few juvenile criminals who make me look a late bloomer."
"Oh, I don't know." Jani crunched down on a roasted almond. "I think you could hold your own against any budding sociopath we could muster."
