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Crazy World Burning Love

The NaNo front is sort of quiet.  I remember this time last year, with most people in a thanksgiving coma by about four PM (which, by the way, is not caused by the tryptophan in turkey meat, but by the amount of crap you pound down your gullet.  Just ask the Mythbusters), the few people who stumbled out to the NaNo group on Facebook were crying for sprinters, because they were behind.  As for me, I ended last Thanksgiving with a word count of 83,625, and finished the novel the next day–which would be, today!

Interesting thing is that I only wrote 1,476 words for last Thankgiving, meaning I didn’t make my daily total.  I sort of made up for it by writing 3,063 words on Black Friday, and putting the End on the last chapter.  I know that’s not going to happen today–I’m likely going to stick to my schedule and do my two thousand plus, and still finish up on Sunday or Monday, but it’s now a question of whether I’ll be sitting at sixty-five thousand words at the end, or hovering close to seventy thousand.  Right now the numbers tell me sixty-five, but we’ll see.

When I’m not nose-deep in the computer screen writing–and dealing with the pain in my neck-shoulder combination, which was brought on by all this writing–I’m thinking, and having strange dreams.  Last night was no different, because the sucker was all over the place.  At one point I went on stage with The Who, sometime in 1972, to sing Going Mobile with Pete–which, if you know your Who History, was never performed life.  Really, you had to be there:  it was pretty smokin’.

There was another point where I found myself reading minds, and one of the said mind readings was of a friend who apparently did a lot of his vertical fantasizing around female superheroes, and their . . . powers.  There were a lot of faces I recognized  because I do know more than a few female superheroes, but there was one that really surprised me, because when the image of the Phoenix came up, said person wasn’t Jean “I’m Always Coming Back From the Dead!” Grey; it was the image of one of my characters–

Who would probably like that comparison, were she a real person.

Audrey Dahl, from my Transporting series, is one of my favorite characters.  She’s crazy–and not always in a good way–she’s geeky, she’s bright . . . she’s got powers out the wazoo.  She and her Psychic Twin, Cytheria, are the two most powerful “Talents” in the world I created for the 32nd Century, and they are well aware of this fact.  So do a lot of other people in their government, which is why if they ever decided to go rogue and start killing shit, someone might try nuking them from orbit–it’s something I point out in one chapter of the first book, where Cytheria indicates that The Ripley Solution would likely be the only way to take them out if the government decided they needed to shuck this mortal coil as soon as possible.

Isn’t all powerful, but the list of things she can do is impressive.  She is a telekinetic, which means she can throw very large things at you with her mind.  She can also levitate, which is sort of scary, because she’s afraid of heights.  She can not only read minds, but she can get right into your mind and do some pretty crazy thing.  Oh, and she’s a pyrokinetic, which means when all else fails, she can throw fire balls at you–or big ass streams of fire, for that matter.

Sounds very Phoenixy, right?  The only difference between Audrey and Jean is that Audrey isn’t a ginger, she’s blond, so she’s really more of a non-slutty looking Emma Frost.  Good thing Emma was never the Phoenix–oh, wait . . .

And there’s an unwritten story–yeah, I have those.  The plot is Cytheria and Audrey accompany a Home Office diplomatic team to a world that isn’t associated with their empire, so they can conduct trade negotiations.  Things go considerably sideways, and in order to get their people butts out of some serious shit, the Psychic Twins need to power up and lay some hurt on the bad guys.  (Oh, and Cytheria can do many of the things Audrey can, though she can heal herself very fast because she had biokinesis, and her primary offensive power is cyrokinesis, so you may begin the Fire and Ice jokes at any time . . .)

In face, they enter the big battle by floating down into the fight, and while hovering above the streets like super-heroines without boob windows, Audrey yells at the troops she’s facing, “Have a little Phoenix Force, motherfuckers,” and rains fire upon their screaming butts.

You may ask, how does she know these things?  How is it she knows about comic book characters from the 1970’s?  Because that’s where she’s from.  And she–well, sorta she–was also a devote of comics, so when she gets to the future and discovers she can read minds, and fly, and throw fire . . .  yeah, ends up digging the hell out of it.

Just imagine her at San Diego Comic Con.  Fan boys and girls would be dying–maybe literally.

What was my dream telling me?  That I’m in love with female superheroes?  That I ripped something off and I should be ashamed?  That I need to tell more of Audrey’s tale, and have people draw fan art of Cytheria and her whipping ass?

Let me get my Indonesian horror novel out of the way–

Then we’ll see.

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