"That's the last of the cargo, sir" Captain Lanso Malring tugged on his thin beard and eyed the wagon-sized pile of crates, barrels and sacks stacked up on the end of the stone pier, then acknowledged the bosun with a wave dismissing the lading crew. The offloading had taken far longer than anyone had expected, but at least they'd finished before the brunt of the approaching squall hit. His vessel sat on the leeward side of the stone causeway, only partially shielded from the building waves, even now spray was crashing across the pier, driven by the erratic gusts. A pair of sailors finished loading a hand cart with some of the supplies, they kept their heads hunched down on their shoulders against the icy wind-driven water as they pulled the two wheeled cart down the pier toward the weathered shack at the other end of the pier.
Captain Malring turned to the red haired man who had stood silently beside him the entire time the cargo was being unloaded. "My men will finish moving the supplies to the supply shack at the other end, won't take but a few minutes. You sure you don't need anything else?" A minute passed with no response from the passenger, and the captain wondered again why anyone would take the job offered by the coastal league to tend the lighthouse, but then revised his opinion, if anyone would take such a job, it would be someone as enigmatic as this person. He'd offered little more than the occasional grunt or nod of assent during the entire 3 day journey from Port Whiterock, the longest conversation he'd had with anyone had been with the cargomaster about his personal gear when the gruff sailor had noted that some of the supplies seemed more appropriate for delivery to a brewery than a lighthouse, to which the mysterious passenger had replied, "who says a light house can't be a brewery".
The above blurb is a writing practice I sat down to and keyed out over a pair of breaks at work. There's been no polishing, editing, or rewriting. It is a germ of an idea I've floated around relating to a tie between the the ifgs storylines of D'oril, and the literary storylines I'm working from. The lighthouse referred to is also a tie with another story concept within the d'oril world I've occasionally referenced, Lighthouse, lighthome. That story isn't well placed within the timeline yet, parts of it fit well with a precursor civilization that fell apart long before the confederacy of Imperfect Hope arose, but I haven't figured out the connection to the K'tath and their timelines. Where will it go from here?
SInce it's been 6 weeks since I last posted, I feel I should apologize. All I can say is, holiday travel can be a bear, and I've been doing this for nearly 23 years now. Guess I'm starting to wear out. On the plus side, I managed to get a 2 week vacation the last two weeks of december, first time I've ever had holiday vacation time. Irma and I didn't actually go anywhere, instead the first week was prepping for christmas eve dinner, and week two (right now) is rest, rest, and rest. We've done a couple of day trips up into the mountains, lots of snow there, and until today, none around here. But, today, it's snowing, so we're staying in, and Irma's going to make some chile verde con puerco. (green chile pork stew) Yummm.
I mentioned 23 years. Mandatory retirement is 2 1/2 years away, unless congress and the FAA change the rules, something they're threatening with the continued controller shortages. I'm betting there will be some changes, but I'm still planning on stepping out of the ATC biz then, unless they offer some really good incentives to stay. I'm not holding my breath. However, the concept of retirement doesn't seem real yet. Most people don't have the option to retire (with relative security) as early as controllers do, on the other hand, the stresses of the job make it a health risk for many controllers to continue, thus the reason for the mandatory age 56 retirement that stands right now. The talk is that medical waivers are going to be granted based on health and some expanded requirements to keep our medical clearances.
Back to writing. No progress on Imperfect Hope, some progress on background details, and a eureka moment regarding my writing habits. These last few days of unfettered rest has opened up my creative channels, with the observation that being a controller wears me out much more than I thought. I'm still thinking through the implications, and considering ways to keep the fatigue monster from chewing me up once I return to the grind next week. Any suggestons (besides more scotch?)
Anyway... More to come, (he promises) Watching the snow fall outside makes me think of D'oril...
TTFN,
JIm
Captain Malring turned to the red haired man who had stood silently beside him the entire time the cargo was being unloaded. "My men will finish moving the supplies to the supply shack at the other end, won't take but a few minutes. You sure you don't need anything else?" A minute passed with no response from the passenger, and the captain wondered again why anyone would take the job offered by the coastal league to tend the lighthouse, but then revised his opinion, if anyone would take such a job, it would be someone as enigmatic as this person. He'd offered little more than the occasional grunt or nod of assent during the entire 3 day journey from Port Whiterock, the longest conversation he'd had with anyone had been with the cargomaster about his personal gear when the gruff sailor had noted that some of the supplies seemed more appropriate for delivery to a brewery than a lighthouse, to which the mysterious passenger had replied, "who says a light house can't be a brewery".
The above blurb is a writing practice I sat down to and keyed out over a pair of breaks at work. There's been no polishing, editing, or rewriting. It is a germ of an idea I've floated around relating to a tie between the the ifgs storylines of D'oril, and the literary storylines I'm working from. The lighthouse referred to is also a tie with another story concept within the d'oril world I've occasionally referenced, Lighthouse, lighthome. That story isn't well placed within the timeline yet, parts of it fit well with a precursor civilization that fell apart long before the confederacy of Imperfect Hope arose, but I haven't figured out the connection to the K'tath and their timelines. Where will it go from here?
SInce it's been 6 weeks since I last posted, I feel I should apologize. All I can say is, holiday travel can be a bear, and I've been doing this for nearly 23 years now. Guess I'm starting to wear out. On the plus side, I managed to get a 2 week vacation the last two weeks of december, first time I've ever had holiday vacation time. Irma and I didn't actually go anywhere, instead the first week was prepping for christmas eve dinner, and week two (right now) is rest, rest, and rest. We've done a couple of day trips up into the mountains, lots of snow there, and until today, none around here. But, today, it's snowing, so we're staying in, and Irma's going to make some chile verde con puerco. (green chile pork stew) Yummm.
I mentioned 23 years. Mandatory retirement is 2 1/2 years away, unless congress and the FAA change the rules, something they're threatening with the continued controller shortages. I'm betting there will be some changes, but I'm still planning on stepping out of the ATC biz then, unless they offer some really good incentives to stay. I'm not holding my breath. However, the concept of retirement doesn't seem real yet. Most people don't have the option to retire (with relative security) as early as controllers do, on the other hand, the stresses of the job make it a health risk for many controllers to continue, thus the reason for the mandatory age 56 retirement that stands right now. The talk is that medical waivers are going to be granted based on health and some expanded requirements to keep our medical clearances.
Back to writing. No progress on Imperfect Hope, some progress on background details, and a eureka moment regarding my writing habits. These last few days of unfettered rest has opened up my creative channels, with the observation that being a controller wears me out much more than I thought. I'm still thinking through the implications, and considering ways to keep the fatigue monster from chewing me up once I return to the grind next week. Any suggestons (besides more scotch?)
Anyway... More to come, (he promises) Watching the snow fall outside makes me think of D'oril...
TTFN,
JIm
