Birth of a Salesman.
By the time my children went with their mother it was 4pm. Got home around 4:30 and couldn’t get myself to write. It was stubbornness. I knew I had no excuse, and I also knew that writing would eventually happen before it was too late. I had to get the damn ten pages done.
I loved every minute of it.
From 7:45 to 9:45pm I pushed hard, and produced these eleven pages. I normally shoot for four pages an hour, but this all felt too real to slow down. I was there, on post-apocalypse Terra, as a spectator. There were times when my thoughts were way too fast and far ahead, and it comes through in the writing. I like it.
A block raid is a high tension event. Knowing I had two hours to write ten pages so that I could get the blog posted before midnight—this added more tension to the writing. And then the scenario started glowing full spectrum. I knew that Stragglers were going to die. Because Scrubbers don’t die, and Stragglers are stubbornly trying to use lethal force.
-W.V.Carleton
