A note to prospective readers (on CWs)
My manuscripts are a work in progress, and only the first 9 to 12 of the currently 30 extant volumes have undergone substantial editing. They're also long, the majority of which exceed 800 pages apiece.
In them you will find depictions of:
• sex, sexuality, and intimacy
• rare instances of dubious consent
• psychiatry and mental health
• medicine and medical procedure
• death, autopsy, and mortuary services
… and other potentially objectionable topics.
For the curious, here's the aforementioned octree implementation, cleaned up and commented: https://gist.github.com/itspomf/d994a1aa7e6356e866b96f2b2a271f12
Finished in a much more reasonable time today, at 3,770 words for the day~
This scene changed rather considerably from how first it was written, but despite a few issues in getting the words quite right, I feel that it flows far better and feels a bit more coherent, as a pleasantly intimate (and lethargic) morning between Anja and Laika.
Haven't gotten a chance to detail sensuality of that sort in a while, and it's nice to just let them enjoy one another again
It's going to be very interesting to write the deserialization routine, since it, too, has to be recursive.
Maybe I'll play with that a little tomorrow. We shall see.
Today I wrote a little code for the first time in about 6 months.
It was a tiny sparse octree implementation conceived of on a walk, in ruby, which exploited metaprogramming and the object introspection methods (of object), to provide a linked list style approach.
For serialization, it produced a recursively wound byte stream, using a 1 byte "bitmap" of the octree as a key, and an unsigned short (uint16) for voxel IDs. 0x80** signified a subtree, where ** is the bitmap.
The more I think through today's scene, the better I feel about it, honestly. Glad I've had some time to do so, for once, since it can be really helpful (both for my writing and mental health) to have some quiet time to reflect on things.
3,602 words for today.
Took a good hour longer than I'd like, which isn't uncommon after a bad day, but I think I'm happy with the scene. Spent a long while trying to get one part to "feel" right, but it flows better now and actually plays into things appropriately, more or less. Well, as appropriately as ever anything with Yuun is.
Going to see about coming up with notes for tomorrow, to give myself another day before I reattempt yesterday's scene.
Which, mind, all occurred about 2.5 to 3 years *after* the novels' core premise was conceived of as "but what happens if cancerous mutations could be used to avoid cell senescence and attain effective immortality?" after reading about Henrietta Lacks.
Which, again, reflects upon some of humanity's worst attributes.
Topless, A Bug or Two
I take a gamble when stepping on the bus. Most times, it takes me straight home.
Sometimes, there's a detour. I'll feel my eyes growing heavy, and my body going slack. I'll fall asleep against the window. But I can still feel the bus turning in unusual directions.
Each time it happens, I'll wake up further and further away from my home to places I don't recognize. Places I can't even explain.
One thing's consistent.
That's who's waiting for me at my new destination.
Daily auteur of space monster boyfriends and sensual fiction in a star cluster near you.