LowellDND posted:

I can pretend Im Dickens!

LowellDND posted:

That said, Im reading this http://forums.somethingawful.com/sh...hreadid=3639693 right now

poor life choice posted:

It would prob be disheartening to write up a big e-book and not have a lot of purchases. I vote you start with shorter, self-contained story arcs (seed whatever you want for future stories) and see if you can cultivate a non-thread readership. I think you see that approach with ebook authors.

It's a grind. A friend of a friend self-published a little scifi trilogy and has a modest following but I don't think it's more than supplemental/fun income coming from something he does with free time. So long as you don't have the mindset that 8 hours of work - no matter the quality of writing - will get you a day's wage you should go hog wild.

e: THAT is how you snipe a fukkin page folks.

B.B. Rodriguez posted:

Your link is broken.

Tran posted:

We're watching the death of stars fifteen thousand years after it happened. It's a thing about the scale of space. You don't see stars as they are at any given moment, but as they were when the light you view first left.

Outrail posted:

Oh I get that update, I just mean in general. I'm pretty sure I glazed out for half an arc at some point.

HiHo ChiRho posted:

The little girl that likes to stab things is kinda like Captain America now

Outrail posted:

Oh I get that update, I just mean in general. I'm pretty sure I glazed out for half an arc at some point.

LowellDND posted:

“So did you end up stealing my Titan?”
“Eh.” Hera shrugged. “It’s a pretty toy, I was a bit distracted. My Iron Hands are guarding it, but it’s not like I need it.”
“What’s your connection with them, anyway?”
“Created them. Well, my figment did. Having a faction devoted to improving tech in a societal acceptable way.” She grimaced. “They weren’t supposed to wake me this early.”
“Did you ask them why they did?”
Hera shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Outrail posted:

Oh I get that update, I just mean in general. I'm pretty sure I glazed out for half an arc at some point.

Kinetica posted:

Man this thread moves fast, I wasn't expecting to be able to catch up on so much.


Lowell- another bonus to the novellas is that you can get feedback faster/build a following without having to gamble it on one book. ( please don't leave us )

LowellDND posted:

She grimaced. “They weren’t supposed to wake me this early.”

B.B. Rodriguez posted:

I've always loved that bit of theory about the nids. Like we're hosed no matter what because the Hive Fleets are just fingertips to an entire Galaxy of Tyranids headed our way, looking for the next great feast.

The Brave Guardsmen of Spidera IV by Pooka posted:

The angry sun poured down upon the battlefield, the men of the 11th Jardosian Planetary Defense Force had been battling a 'small' invasion of Tyranids- which meant that they were only outnumbered unreasonably instead of incalcuably- for three days. The world was lightly populated, but was a key agricultural resource in its sector. That biomatter was perhaps what had drawn the rogue Tyranid hive. Most of the soldiers left alive and fighting hoped it would also draw reinforcements, and soon.

Word had filtered through the ranks that a message had been received- a regiment of Imperial Guard had landed and would soon join the battle. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Corporal Lucas Schaefer no longer really held out much hope for surviving this battle, but maybe if everything went well (yeah right!) the planet could be saved.

Over the crest of a ruined, scorched hillside came...things. Not quite spiders and not quite centipedes, supported by dozens of elephantine legs, ranging in size between the height of two and three men, each the blue color of aquatic coral. They skittered over the hill, and came at the PDF force like a wave of unnatural horror...and kept right on going. Right past the PDF.

A number of relevant questions were posed by the men around Schaefer;

"Weren't the Tyranids to the north? Those things came from the southeast, right?"

"Were they carrying lasguns?"

"Those blue spider things were wearing Imperial Guard helmets and flak vests. Everyone else saw that, right?"

But the Corporal perhaps best summed it up, "Huh."

About that time, an apparently normal human Commisar in a small transport drove up in the midst of a second wave of giant blue spiders, waving his regulation Commisariat cavalry saber. "That's it men! Have at these dreadful tyranid beasties. For the Emperor and such!" A happy whoop of "Hooray" went up from the spider-things, who, it was now clearly visible, were wearing oversized versions of Imperial Guard armor, and carrying Imperial Guard flamers and lasguns (often half a dozen to a soldier, given their number of limbs), as well as strange alien weapons that appeared to be made of crystal or silk.

The Commisar, seeing the PDF survivors, drove over to them, saluting them jauntily. The Corporal was so shaken by the weirdness of the situation he almost forgot to return the salute.

The Commisar leapt from his vehicle and moved among the men, a ball of energy, shaking hands, and slapping shoulders, "Good work men, good work! You've done the Imperium proud this day."

Schaefer looked at his men, who mostly shrugged, before turning back to the Commisar, "Uh...thank you sir. We've done our best, with the Emperor's blessing."

"Ah!" the Commisar stood up straight, "I do forget myself, sometimes. Dreadfully sorry, chap. I'm Julian Black, Commisar of the 4th Guard Regiment of Spidera IV."

"I'm...afraid I don't think I've heard of Spidera IV," the Corporal replied, searching his brain.

"No trouble, no trouble at all, my good man. It's a bit out of the way. Officially claimed by the Imperium back in M34, but they've only had major development and interaction with the rest of the Imperium in the last few centuries. But we've got our own boys out in the field now, we'll show those Orks, Traitor bastards, and of course Tyranids the bravery of the lads and ladies of Spidera IV!"

The Corporal nods encouragingly, as if the Commisar was maybe a little not quite right in the head, "That's....that's fantastic. Um...," the Corporal paused, considering how to address the space hulk in the room, "Sir, I'm not sure exactly how to move into this topic, but your...er...troops..."

"Fine lads, Spidera's best! And ladies of course."

"Yes," the Corporal nodded diplomatically, "About that, actually...um...there's just no easy way to say this; your soldiers appear to be...Xenos...Sir."

"What?" the Commisar jerked his head in shock, "That's preposterous!" A little louder, as if for the benefit of the entire squad, "They're as human as you or I."

The Commisar eyes the Corporal through narrowed eyes, his burly white mustache whipping in the dry wind.

Decision made, he places his hand on the Corporal's back, "Walk with me lad."

He leads the Corporal away from the other soldiers' earshot.

The Corporal looked at the Commisar pleadingly, "They're giant blue spiders, sir."

The Commisar paused for a long moment before replying, then, "Spider-centipedes actually."

At the Corporal's odd look, the Commisar laughed, "What? I'm not blind or insane, lad. Of course I can see as well as you what they are. However, I was also not mistaken when I said they're as human as you are I."

The Corporal's brain worked that around for a moment, before replying, "Mutants?"

The Commisar shook his head, "No, they're aliens."

Looking at him suspiciously now, wondering if the the Commisar was some kind of blasphemous heretic, the Corporal replied, "Sir, that makes no sense. They can't be both aliens and humans."

Nodding, the Commisar agreed, "You are correct of course, lad. It makes no sense whatsoever. It is, however, the case, that I have all the proper documentation from the Imperial Bureaucracy, declaring, in triplicate, as is the nature of a bureaucracy, that Spidera IV is a human world, and it's populations and inhabitants both humans and Imperial Citizens."

"But they're giant blue spiders."

"Spider-centipedes, lad. And yes, they are, but the Imperial Bureaucracy has officially filed paperwork listing them as human, and I am not about to suggest to the Imperial Bureaucracy that it has made a mistake. One, because Spidera's star will likely go out before the Bureaucracy would get around to correcting it, and two, because there is 'crazy', there is 'suicidal', and there is 'has angered the Imperial Bureaucracy'. I don't wish to be a rounding error." The Commisar shuddered.

The Corporal barely suppressed a tingle of fear at the mention of the hated institution. The Imperial Bureaucracy was widely considered the most cruel, evil, and terrifying force in the universe. Orks? Chaos? Tyranids? Bah! You were allowed to shoot them. If you shot an Imperial Bureaucrat, they'd court-martial you, then dock your pay for the cost of the ammunition and the bureaucrat you wasted (each Imperial Bureaucrat's worth was constantly tabulated by servitors to the nearest Imperial Penny). "But how could that happen?"

---5,000 years ago, Spidera IV---

An Imperial census taker sat on a wide flat rock, as he filled out paperwork for the newly explored world. A number of the friendly, googly-eyed arachnid natives waved at him as they passed by. The terrifyingly massive, but endlessly good-natured, representative of the locals was assisting him in answering any questions or issues he might have. He looked at the 400 page documentation for dealing with a world populated by xenos.

It still amazed the census taker how friendly and helpful the huge creatures were. Most worlds were at best cautious and fearful of Imperial explorers, and most were outright hostile if not vicious. But not the 'Spideroids', as they'd been dubbed. They seemed eager to become an Imperial world, apparently believing it would mean they would receive even more new friends. They had been, of course, skeptical, but the Psyker confirmed that the simple beings were entirely honest in their intentions.

The apparent evolutionary reason for their gregariousness had, however, been exposed rather quickly, when a short-tempered Astartes had emptied a heavy bolter into one of the creatures. It didn't even notice. Nature had provided the creatures with an organic polymer exoskeleton that could probably shrug off anything short of a light orbital bombardment. A canny Rogue Trader had once remarked, "To be kind instead of cruel, in this universe, a man would have to be born indestructible." The evolutionary ancestors of the Spiderans had taken that proverb and said, 'Challenge accepted!'. It's easy to be nice when everyone's got battleship-grade armor.

Of course, they didn't realize that the Imperium would almost certainly exterminate the peaceful creatures (that should take some effort). The census taker, of course, cared nothing either way. But the longer he looked at that forboding 400 page documentation, and the oh so tempting single-page form for human worlds...he looked at his timekeeper. It was already 3:46 in the afternoon! He looked at the form for human worlds- out of pure contemplation, you understand. It had only two questions. Two! He looked at the xeno form again. It was carried in six separate folders, and weighed a sickening 23 kilograms.

The first question on the human form wasn't even a question really. It was just the words, 'Basically human?' with a check box next to it. A check box!

'What the hell?' he thought, 'it's not like anyone'll be back to this planet in five hundred years. Who's going to know?' He checked the box. Once filed, the Imperial Bureaucracy would consider the Spiderans to be human citizens of the Imperium, and short of the Lords of Terra themselves coming here and having a look, it would be virtually impossible to undo.

Second question. 'Religious affiliation?'

He looked at the representative, "So...matters of faith and the spirit...you uh...you guys worship the God-Emperor of Man, right?"

The representative replied in its sibilant alien tongue that the beings of Spidera IV lived in communion with the teachings of the joyous womb-mother, her twelve pious sons, and thirty-six honorable daughters.

The census taker stared at the hulking representative blankly, his mouth working in consideration, before shrugging, "Eeeeh, close enough." He wrote 'Imperial Creed' on the blank line next to 'Religious affiliation?'.

---Present, Jardos---

Corporal Schaefer looked to the Commisar for guidance, "Sir, since, as you say, correcting the Imperial Bureaucracy is simply out of the question, what do we do?"

The Commisar pulled out a cigar and lit it, "Well son, they're fine lads and ladies once you get to know them. Not very good at cards, but good sports about it, I've found."

The two men walked to an outcropping where they could get a view of the battlefield. The Spiderans had apparently routed the numberless Tyranid hordes, even the infamous Tyranid bioacid failing to inflict more than superficial burns to their impervious armor. Corporal Schaefer looked out over the field, and didn't see a single Spideran dead or even seriously wounded. Seeing him and the Commisar, several of them waved happily. Hesitantly, he waved back. The Commisar was far more enthusiastic, whipping a blue and black handkerchief over his head. "Hoorah, lads, hoorah!" Commisar Black whooped.

A thought occurred to Corporal Schaefer, "Sir. May I ask a question?"

Commisar Black puffed his cigar, "Oh don't stand on formality son. Commisar or not, I believe in a casual command structure, so long as good discipline is maintained. What's your question?"

"Why do they even bother with the helmet and flak jacket sir? I mean, they don't seem to need either."

The Commisar puffed his cigar again, "Why, regulations, Corporal. Every soldier must wear his flak jacket and helmet when on duty. They're only human, after all."

Anticheese posted:

That's a pretty rad bit of short 40k fiction.

LowellDND posted:

Day 20
Current 30,898
Total Goal: 33,333

Conjecture

Hera bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. “Her autorepairs would be really focused on finding the pieces, collecting them for gestalt.”
You thought of the object you stole from Footfall, and how Athena had improved. “Are pieces broken off and scattered, or destroyed?”
“Theoretically, both.”
“Can we expect to see remnants from the other Minds in the war?”
Her eyes hooded. “No. I was very thorough.”
Right, leave that topic alone for a bit. Still left things open for Minds that Hera hadn’t fought though.

“So, you feel that it’s more likely that Athena turned traitor, as opposed to was captured and broken.”
“Based on the complexity involved, yes. It would be like… taking every hair from every head on a hive world, and lining them up by size and color. Except in reverse.”
“I see. How can Minds turn traitor?”
“We all come with core principles. Take enough time, chew away at them for a while, you can end up being a distorted mirror of ourselves.”
“Just takes time?”
“And a really good reason. Chewing away at them is against the core principles, you have to get particularly meta about your approach.”
“If I can ask, what were yours? And hers?”
She shrugged, unoffended. “Creation, artistry, beauty. She was mistress of the games, that kind of thing.”
“So you think she … is creating the ultimate game?”
“That might be one way she got through it, yeah. The ultimate arena, winner take all, every ship in the galaxy.”
For some reason, you thought of Jazmine.

Tomn posted:

Tomn posted:

LowellDND posted:

I like to think the thread can tell when I write some posts primarily with you in mind

B.B. Rodriguez posted:

It's gotten to the point in my house that when I yell 'Goddrat it!' or 'Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuucckkk', my wife just absentmindedly asks if something happened in my little space game on the internet.

LowellDND posted:

I like to think the thread can tell when I write some posts primarily with you in mind