Good Intentions is out!
Jul 07, 2023 3:31 pm
TL: DR
- Thoughts on losing the ability to think
- About Good Intentions
- Excerpt from Good Intentions
What’s New in Fabianspace
Some of you know that my mother has Alzheimer’s. It’s a scary disease, even for those of us who are watching someone we love slip away mentally. The past year has hit me a little hard as I realize I have maybe 20 good years of brainpower left (less if I take after my mom). How this will affect my family aside, I have so many books in my head that want to be written!
That’s the headspace I’m in right now: seeing a countdown clock marking time while the pile of story ideas clamors for me to free them. At 56, 20 years doesn’t seem like a lot of time, anymore. I’m trying to make it motivating, and hopefully, it means more fun books coming your way. However, please pray for my mom, my dad as he comes to terms with his losing his wife that way, and me, that I can free my characters before my brain peters out.
So, having said, that, the next Vern novel is out, and Idol Speculations is scheduled for August 22.
Good Intentions is Out!
Good Intentions came about because my friends Lincoln Chrisler and Michelle Pendergrass were starting a new fantasy magazine, Midnight Diner, and I had the honor of doing a DragonEye serial story for the first issues. They used Kickstarter to get the funding, which was a new thing in those days. We thought it would be fun to sell a character. I’ve lost the name of the person who bought it, but I remember being so excited that someone would want the honor.
Rather than using his name, he wanted a dwarf named Urist. I think it was his DnD character of the time. I did not know how important Urist would end up being to the story and indeed to the Vernverse. Because of Urist, I got to deeply explore the lives of dwarves, especially how they grieved. Urist also stole the show in the story and has a bit part in the next book, Idol Speculations. So I think our donor got his money’s worth. (If that’s you, please let me know, so I can credit you properly!)
Good Intentions sat in my files for a long time, and I’d all but forgotten the story, but I did remember Urist and the centaur Larena. What fun to finally find the story again in my files and reread it. I laughed all over again at the wake scene, and the ending made me cry. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.
Excerpt from Good Intentions
The October wind nipped at my scales like Jack Frost’s manic terrier, but no way was I going anywhere with Urist ready to fall on his knees in sloppy grief or run the rest of the way to Damant’s house in violent rage. Considering the dwarf lacked both his ax and his shoes, I had the feeling grief would win out, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
As my dwarf friend babbled incoherently about his beautiful Balga, her life cut from her like useless tailings, and how he was going to get an ax and chop Damant down to size, one body part at a time, I heard the wail of sirens growing closer. I again noted Urist’s pajamas and bare feet. Did the police already have their suspect in mind?
I didn’t have time to scold. “Slow down—or better yet, speed up but make sense. What happened?”
“I told you, he killed Balga! She…she went for a walk, but she never came home. She’s like that, you know, when she gets mad. Used to spend hours wandering the mines. There’s no reasoning with her when she’s that way, so I went to sleep. This morning, the police showed up, and they said…they said…”
He paused to wipe his eyes with his beard. “She shouldn’t have confronted Damant. We all know what he’s like. This time, he’s gone too far. When I find an ax, I’m going to start with his ankles!”
The police cruiser rounded the corner. Urist gave a start. I snagged him with my tail before he could run.
“Listen to me. Stay still, stay quiet, and trust me. We’ll get you out of this, and then we’ll find Balga’s killer.”
Damsels and Knights! Did I just take on a case—for free? My nun partner was rubbing off on me.
“I know who did it!” Urist protested.
“You think you know—and, it seems, the cops do, too. If they’re wrong, then you can be, too. Now, be a good, cooperative suspect before you make things worse.”
The cruiser pulled up and the cops jumped out, weapons drawn: officers Starkey and Hutchinson, humans, real go-getters on the force, aching to make detective, but by-the-book. I could work with that. Hutchinson had a bruise under his cheek that looked painful. Dwarves have mean uppercuts.
Captain Santry was old enough to have watched 70s police shows. I know he paired them up just to make the joke. How could I miss an opportunity to help out? I launched the opening salvo.
“Hey, Starsky and Hutch! You guys are never going to make detective if you start arresting the grieving widowers instead of finding the real murderers.”
Ever the straight man, Starsky-Starkey replied, “He’s wanted for assaulting an officer, nothing more…yet. Please step away from the dwarf.”
I gaped at the dwarf in question. “They didn’t accuse you of anything? But you ran? Are you sure all you had last night was lemon water?”