The Alibi – Chapter 5

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The Alibi – Chapter 5

 
Leddy sat across from Penny Lane in the Boston Public Library’s Johnson Building. Leddy always thought they’d look like those tower salt&pepper shakers if Penny could get on her shoulders. Leddy, stocky and dark like her father, Penny thin and fair like her father if he didn’t get to his Bermuda home for a weekend.

Out the window she watched firetrucks and ambulance race towards AirCon until people crowded around her and blocked the view. She switched her tablet from screen to dVids, a gift from Penny’s father, and guided her drone with a specialized pen she designed inside MIT’s Media Lab as part of the Future Entrepreneurs Club. She couldn’t stop actionable ideas from coming to her. Her advisors wondered if she were adopted. Grad students and professors attempted to copy her designs. Penny’s father, Briggs Lane, Senior Partner at Fish, Cuomo, and Greenberg, told Penny to keep an eye on her and bring any things she came up with to him.

Briggs had Penny and Leddy to lunch at least once a week and probed Leddy about anything Penny brought to his attention, but gently, conversationally, so she wouldn’t know.

Leddy thought him a playable fool. He could get his hands on tech even her Media Lab buds knew nothing about and Leddy always let him think something profitable would come of it.

But gently, conversationally, so he wouldn’t know.

She tapped Penny’s tablet. “People will see what’s on your screen.”


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The Alibi – Chapter 4

The Alibi is presenting me with several learning opportunities. I wrote about what I’m learning about Toing and Froing in Parts 1, 2 and 3. I previously learned about plotting and today it’s reinforcing “Less is More,” something I learned (obviously not well enough) when writing Search and The Shaman(I’ll no doubt write about it later when I’ve learned enough worth sharing), and kind of a specific part of Toing and Froing.

As they say in German Rast ich, so rost ich.

Read The Alibi‘s:

As always, let me know what you think.


The Alibi – Chapter 4

 
BRIC and HSU – Boston Regional Intelligence Center and the BPD’s Home Security Unit respectively – broadcast a Red-Level alert to every federal, state, and municipal law enforcement and governance group within the 128 beltway. The T stopped in its tracks, literally. Logan, North and South Station, and all bus depots went into lockdown. MassDOT blocked all roads south of the Charles to 203 north of Mattapan and west to 9 in Brookline east and south. Other alerts went statewide, throughout New England, the northeast to Ohio, south to Virginia, and north to Atlantic Canada. Governor Hanson ordered the National Guard’s Joint Force Headquarters to patrol the streets.

Cranston’s cell flashed Leddy’s “U OK?”

“K U?”

Marete pointed at the room’s bigscreen. “Somebody’s streaming this as soon as we get the call?”

Cranston’s gaze went from his cell to the bigscreen. Leddy flashed “R U Cing this? Sold 2 NTWRKS!” His fingers clenched and his eyes closed. “That’s Leddy.”

Marete turned to Cranston. “Maybe UAS should hire her. She got there faster than our own drones did. Tell her we’ll want that video. And anything else she got.”

His boxer’s thumbs fudged a reply. “I’m on it.”

Leddy TXTed back “$$$$$?”

He tapped Leddy’s image and put the phone to his ear. “Keep filming and send it to me. And anything your friends pick up, too.” He listened. “Who? Tell her she’ll be arrested if she doesn’t.”

Marete kept his eyes on the bigscreen. “That’s AirCon headquarters. And whatever happened it looks tactical.” His deskphone rang. A moment later he came out of his office. “Bill, the big boss says your frontman on this because you already have a history with AirCon and Dunn.”

“That’s a homicide, not a bombing.”

“I said frontman, not lead. You don’t have the background to lead this. You do have the contacts and experience to front it so nobody bothers the lead.”

“Who’s lead?”

“FBI, DHS, MSP and BPD are fighting over that now. And I’m sure AirCon’s people are stomping all over everything with news crews close behind.” Marete pointed at Rhinehold. “Take Tonto with you.”


Read The Alibi – Chapter 5.

The Alibi – Chapter 3

The Alibi is presenting me with several learning opportunities. I wrote about what I’m learning about Toing and Froing in Parts 1, 2 and 3. I previously learned about plotting then came “Less is More,” something I learned (obviously not well enough) when writing Search and The Shaman(I’ll no doubt write about it later when I’ve learned enough worth sharing), and kind of a specific part of Toing and Froing, and today it’s “if you’re not sure, remove it” dealing with revision

As they say in German Rast ich, so rost ich.

Read The Alibi‘s:

As always, let me know what you think.


The Alibi – Chapter 3

 
Cisily Throne lay on her stomach on a white and black checkerboard beach towel. The Lady Eglesia‘s Volvo Penta IPS occasionally thrummed gently when Throne’s seventy-five foot power sail’s thrusters adjusted its position over its Boston Harbor anchorage. The low vibration transported Throne back home, to one or two elders clapping, others singing, and the didgeridoo.

She missed being washed in the didgeridoo’s sound, of feeling the Old Ones take semi-human shape and walk into camp.

But that was thirty-five years and half a world away.

Today she let the sun warm her back and stretched out until her fingertips and toes touched the Lady Eglesia‘s forecastle deck’s treated wood. Her left hand touched her mobile and she shoved it so hard it skidded to the fore-railing before banging to a stop.

She seldom took time off and when she did, it was understood – Nobody bothers the Big Dog.

Cisily let the sun warm her back and chuckled.

The Lady Eglesia served as her vacation while at work. A short dinghy ride from dock to boat, a stripping of her work clothes, and she could close her eyes and be back home protected by the brilliant magenta shield of Hamersley Range swimming in pools of still, clear water, listening to the birdcalls of tiny white corella and pink galahs as they flew overhead. At night she would power out into deep water where the city lights grew dim. She’d shut down the Eglesia‘s running lights, lie on her back and watch the stars, so different from her northern Australia home, and remember the stories of her Banyjima, Yinhawangka, and Kurrama ancestors.

A passing launch tooted its horn. Throne rolled sideways on the towel and waved. Boys lined the lauch’s deck and applauded. She smiled, shook her head and lay back down. Both men and women still appreciated her late forties body. Long legged, full hipped, narrow waisted, and with just enough breast to keep a partner satisfied without getting in the way. Her skin glistened without needing oils or balms or ointments, she was the best match of her biracial birth. Growing up she was desired and hated, a dark skinned lubra in a white goddess’s body, assumed the child of rape and none knowing her black father and white mother cherished her and each other, she used all that she was wisely.

And today and for the past ten years she was Chief of AirCon security. When BHP Billington’s people came to the States to evaluate AirCon’s electronic frontier solutions, they brought Cisily with them to keep them safe. AirCon CEO Leo Dunn admired her and what her Billington employers said about her.

Would she like a new job here in the States?

Sure and here are my terms.

His smile grew wide and he laughed. “You’re not one to be fucked with, are you, Ms. Throne.”

A smile creased her lips but she kept her eyes on the AirCon CEO’s. “Depends on who’s doing the fucking, doesn’t it, Mr. Dunn?”

Her mobile alarmed.

She raised her head and saw a cloud of gray smoke climb AirCon’s thirty story Innovation Square headquarters like some Wind Spirit King Kong with swirls of denser smoke pulling and pushing like the great ape’s arms and legs.


Read The Alibi – Chapter 4.

The Alibi – Chapter 2

The Alibi is presenting me with several learning opportunities. I wrote about Toing and Froing in Parts 1, 2 and 3. Today big learning is plotting (I’ll no doubt write about it later when I’ve learned enough worth sharing).

The individual chapters are short. Or at least shortish. To me, anyway, yet they seem to work fine.

Of course, I’m still in the rough draft mode. Who knows what I’ll do in the rewrites.
Read The Alibi‘s:

As always, let me know what you think.


The Alibi – Chapter 2

 
Rexall Shaul stood quietly at the top of the thirty flights of stairs from his AirCon corporate office to the garage. He waited, quietly, meditatively, listening to the pneumatic cylinder ease the door shut. The click of the latch would be the runner’s starting pistol.

He slowed his breathing and relaxed his gymnast lean body as he waited.

He hesitated. Lift his arm to check his Omega Dark Side of the Moon or not?

Lifting his arm would raise his pulse a beat, maybe two.

The hesitation alone raised his pulse a beat or two.

He feared he was losing his edge.

The sound of the pneumatic piston increased imperceptibly as it reached the last moments of its transit.

Quick glance at the Omega. The gun sounded.

Off.

He walked quickly but not hurriedly.

Steady pace. People wouldn’t think twice, let him pass. A burst of speed once in the garage if necessary and never necessary before.

Break a sweat and he revealed too much.

Keep it all inside. Maintained.

He opened the door to the garage, glanced at his watch.

Two-hundred-forty seconds. Eight seconds per flight. Not breathing hard. Didn’t break a sweat.

Good.

His best time made use of gravity and dropping down the stairwell, his hands working the railings like descending uneven bars.

He smiled and walked to his black Lotus Exige. Two parking spaces were assigned to him as part of his package. He parked over the center line of the two so the Exige had three feet on either side clear.

He walked around the Exige like a pilot inspecting his craft before takeoff and smiled, his personal mantra topmost on his mind; a risk anticipated is a risk avoided.

He retraced his steps back around the Exige.

Satisfied, he pulled out his phone and tapped a number.

The Exige rumbled to life, the driver’s door opened, the bomb went off, and Rexall Shaul was no more.


Read The Alibi – Chapter 3

Toing and Froing Again, Part 3

This is the final post in this Toing and Froing arc. The genesis of this arc came from my fouling up The Alibi chapter 3 (my current work in progress.

Toing and Froing occurs when the writer/author has their characters move around or do things for no real story purpose; there’s no character development, no character revelation, the atmosphere doesn’t change, no plot elements are furthered or revealed, the movement is irrelevant to any established or impending plot points, the movement is unnecessary to the dialogue, et cetera.

I ended Toing and Froing Again, Part 2 talking about writing and reading rhythms (and I’ll return to those at some point). This post talks about recognizing the problem and coming up with a solution.

The Problem and a Solution
Here’s what I wrote:

The Boston Incident Center’s operations operator routed the call to every city service in a twenty block radius of AirCon’s building. Every mobile in the station went off simultaneously.
Marete came out of his office. “Who’s in the field?”
Senior Ops put a feed on the office’s main. “Looks like some kid’s streaming from his drone.”
Cranston plopped into his seat. “Yeah, I guess this is me.”
Marete pointed to the door. “Take Rhinehold with you.”
Rhinehold, seated next to Cranston’s desk to finish setting up the atricial, spun his chair to face Marete. “What did I do?”
Cranston gathered his notebook and pen. “You wanted fun. You got fun.”
Rhinehold frowned “You don’t use a tablet?”
Cranston paid no attention.
Rhinehold lifted his backpack over his shoulder. “No worries. I have mine.”

What follows would be my comments if the above material came to me in a critique group:

  • The Boston Incident Center’s operations operator routed the call to every city service in a twenty block radius of AirCon’s building. – acceptable but wordy. “operations operator” doesn’t need to be in that sentence. Unless there’s a need for this character to appear in the story again, it doesn’t even count as stage direction and you can get rid of it.
  • Every mobile in the station went off simultaneously. – again acceptable and weak. The chapter opening deals with a police station’s response to a bomb blast. You want the reader caught in the action and moving forward. The characters are pumping adrenaline so the reader should be, too. This sentence has no real action hence no forward momentum as written.
  • Marete came out of his office. – obvious Toing and Froing and necessary as it tells the reader who’s doing what, as in attribution via action. And yet with all that going for it, it’s static. It doesn’t move the reader forward.
  • “Who’s in the field?” – Nice, short dialogue and fitting with the action of the scene, and ditto.
  • Senior Ops put a feed on the office’s main. – Way over the top Toing and Froing. What’s the purpose of this sentence? What does it provide the reader? All it does it take the reader off the main and primary characters by introducing an irrelevant stage direction character. Get rid of it.
  • “Looks like some kid’s streaming from his drone.” – Expected and doesn’t move the reader forward.
  • Cranston plopped into his seat. – You can almost feel the oars moving in their locks as the boat to’s and fro’s, can’t you?
  • “Yeah, I guess this is me.” – ditto.
  • Marete pointed to the door. – ditto and, at this point, who friggen cares?
  • “Take Rhinehold with you.” – static and di-di-di-ditto.
  • Rhinehold, seated next to Cranston’s desk to finish setting up the atricial, spun his chair to face Marete. – does nothing except (literally) place him in the scene.
  • “What did I do?” – I think I was so bored writing at this point I attempted humor.
    I failed.
    PS) Another personal clue to me I’m Toing and Froing is when I attempt to put humor into an otherwise humorless scene or have it come out of the mouths of previously humorless characters.
  • Cranston gathered his notebook and pen. – Pure toing and froing because he gathers them. So what?
  • “You wanted fun. You got fun.” – more botched humor.
  • Rhinehold frowned. – Exactly what I talked about in the Attribution via Action post.
  • “You don’t use a tablet?” – Basically okay as exposition and character development via dialogue, and there’s no real need to bash the reader over the head with it.
  • Cranston paid no attention. – the reader’s not paying attention, why should Cranston?
  • Rhinehold lifted his backpack over his shoulder. – As with Cranston gathering his notebook and pen, so what?
  • “No worries. I have mine.” – Wasted unless it points to something coming later in the story (as in foreshadowing).

At this point remember that criticism without solution is worthless. Anybody can spot problems, not everybody can come up with workable solutions.

Here’s what I came up with as an alternative followed by the reasons this rewrite removes Toing and Froing, strengthens the story, and keeps the reader moving forward (and note, I offer this is better, not brilliant):

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Final thoughts
This kind of critique is what a good critique group will give you. If your critique group isn’t constantly working to improve your writing, find another. Does it need to be this thorough?

I’ll say yes, it does, and also appreciate not a lot of critique groups will go to this level. I also appreciate not everyone wants this level of analysis, and recognize this level of analysis can be devastating if not offered well. I wouldn’t offer this to a newbie unless it’s obvious they can separate themselves from their work and recognize I’m commenting on their work, not them (watch my interview for more on this).

Should you need it or want it, I do offer this level of critique and also writer/author mentoring.