Red Skull, As Written By Robert E. Howard? Would That Then Be... Conan Skull...? (this Needs To Happen,

‘Earth Colony’ by Robert McCall (1973)

How many drafts should you go through before deciding your novel is ready?

There's no specific (official) number, but to create a foundation that ensures you don't burn out quickly, overwork yourself, and get tired of your work, I'll say four. It's the same number I use for my students since most of them have other engagements outside writing that take up a copious amount of their time.

1. Initial or Zero Draft:

This draft is also called the 'just write' draft. Focus on putting that idea down. As the creative juices flow, let it all out. Don't worry about perfection or coherence; the goal is to capture your raw ideas and get the story out of your head and onto the page.

2. Second Draft:

This is the plot draft. Read through what you have written to see if every detail you added was meant to be. Here, you focus on the structure of your story. Ensure that the plot makes sense, the pacing is right, and there are no major plot holes. This is where you might add, remove, or rearrange scenes to improve the overall flow of the narrative.

3. Third Draft:

Character development draft. In this stage, you look deeper into your characters. Make sure their motivations, backgrounds, and arcs are well-defined and consistent. Flesh out their personalities and relationships, ensuring they are compelling and believable. This is also a good time to refine dialogue and make sure it sounds natural and true to each character. That's for this drafting stage.

4. Fourth Draft:

Grammar and punctuation draft. This is the polishing stage. Focus on correcting grammatical errors, punctuation, and spelling mistakes. Pay attention to sentence structure, word choice, and overall readability. This draft is about making your manuscript as clean and professional as possible.

Keep in mind that the goal is to define what completion means for each draft. Once you reach the goal, take a break and return to it for the next drafting stage.

Some writers pay people to carry out some of the drafting stages for them, so if you fall into that category, you might have fewer drafting stages to handle yourself!

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Thank you all for the support 💜!

Hi, I love your blog!

Do you have any ideas for archaic words relating to sailors/ships/voyages/ocean?

Archaic Words: Nautical-Related

Avast - a sea term, meaning stop, hold, enough. It always precedes some orders or conversation. Usually used by sailors.

Banyan day - a sea term for those days on which no meat is allowed to the sailors

Bat swain - a sailor

Breechmen - sailors

Calmewe - a kind of sea bird

Cobkey - a punishment by bastinado inflicted on offenders at sea

Doutremere - from beyond the sea

Fitty - a term applied to lands left by the sea

Landfeather - a bay of the sea

Laveer - to work a ship against the wind. An old sea term.

Loom - to appear larger than in reality, as things often do when at sea

Maryn - the sea coast

Nikir - a sea monster

Osprey - the sea eagle

Reeses - waves of the sea

Shamming Abraham - phrase common among soldiers and sailors, used when they counterfeit sickness or infirmity. It was probably derived from the Abraham men of Shakespeare's time, described in King Lear.

Se-stoerre - sea star

Sea nag - a ship

Shere - to run aground, as a ship does

Ship spy - a telescope used on the coast

Slug - a ship which sails badly

Soger - a sea insect that takes the possession of the shell of another fish

Swashway - a deep swampy place in large sands in the sea

Transfret - to pass over the sea

Viage - a voyage, or journey

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, thank you so much! Hope this helps with your writing.

Eco-War One - Ch.1

Another of my serialized, field-log-style stories. This one went on for quite a while, and is slowly but surely turning into the outline for a proper novel. Alien mushrooms that take over the planet and cause an ecological crisis - what is there not to love? Welcome to the world of Eco-War One!

Diary Log: Max Denton Field Engineer 2nd Class, Eco-Corps XXXI Habitat 17 “Blue Valley” Somewhere south of Warsaw, Poland September 2nd, 2035

We got to the subterranean housing units today, finally. Three months waiting out at the Warsaw camp, and then the transports finally picked us up two days ago. Cramped beyond belief, on those fat trains with the hermetic sealing, but after Warsaw we’re all used to living ass-to-elbow by now.

We’re on the seventh floor, Blue Lane, number 300-something. Still busy unpacking and figuring out the housing unit – everything is either brand new, or still covered in construction dust. The shelter has something like fifteen levels in total, with around a thousand housing units per level, and four people (minimum) per unit. Do the math: sixty thousand people in one place, and there are hundreds of these new silos being dug and furnished every month. Plenty of UN and Eco-Corps guys here too, in their blue berets and vests, and we run through weapon scanners whenever we want to leave the level or visit any of the communal spaces. Makes sense, I guess, but I can’t imagine how long it will take before it becomes chaos down here. The “new paint” smell will wear off around the same time as the patience and goodwill of everyone crammed in here.

Do we have an option? The camps at Warsaw were meant to be a step up from the ruins to the south and west, and even those camps were rough. Food lines for hours every day, and decontamination teams everywhere to steam and acid-scrub everything two or even three times a day. Illness everywhere, from regular vitamin deficiencies – and those horrible flu coughs – to blue-lung and scalp-rot and that weird thing where your nails fall out and your fingertips go numb. Our one tent-neighbor had that, and cut his one finger off by accident while making dinner one night. Didn’t feel a thing until he noticed the blood everywhere.

Will the shelter here end up being any better? Million-dollar question. Government says yes, and the Eco-Corps signed off on the idea. On paper, quite simple: make a sterile environment, practice strict access control with decontamination, and then – in theory – you can maintain the clean environment indefinitely. We live below ground, we work below ground, we spend all our time below ground, and only the brave or stupid folks find a reason to go back to the surface again. Well: the brave/stupid and the Eco-Corps guys, although they are a different case. Good luck getting through the UN lines too, for that matter: they control all access here, to keep Shining Path and the pluon out, and are basically going to be the white blood cells that protect us.

Grim though, actually: what does that make us, lurking below the ground?

A seed, hiding out the winter and blight, to sprout again in springtime?

Or a cancer, in a dying body, slowly rotting away in the dark?

Time will tell.

September 5th, 2035

They switched on the big UV lamps in the communal spaces today, and people literally cried. People who have not seen clear skies or plain sunlight in months – or even years, in some cases – crying as those big lamps came on. Felt amazing, and I’m sure it was 90% psychological. Mary agreed when we discussed it over dinner: that feeling of being underground, of living in a can, becomes a lot more bearable if you can at least go out to a space that looks and feels a bit like what we grew up with. Even if it is just forty-five minutes per day in the Prime Zone (that’s what they call the big park in the middle, where you get direct light); the rest of the time, we can use the walkways around the light-spaces to at least catch some reflected light. Access to the Prime Zone is purely by your ID chip, although some people are already gambling and selling off their PZ times to fund other habits. Bound to happen eventually. We have vitamin D supplements in most of our foodstuffs now, so skipping out on PZ time won’t kill you, but still – people will abuse this, I can see it happening (is that my old analyst training speaking, or my general distrust by now?)

Makes me wonder how they are going to regulate the temperature here, now, with those big lamps going for fifteen or sixteen hours a day, but I’m guessing the smart people who built this place already thought of that. Probably some type of draft circulation system in the upper reaches of the habitat, getting pumped out to the agri-caverns, and then cold air coming from downstairs somewhere to replace it. Round and round like a good little hydraulic system, except this one keeps upwards of sixty thousand people warm/cool.

Speaking of agri-caverns: Mary and her team opened up the next set of tunnels yesterday, and she came home with bloody fingers and missing fingernails after installing UV streamers and hydroponic lines for her entire double shift. They are behind schedule on getting the food sections up and running. Nothing life-threatening, given our stockpiles of foam-bread and that algae derivatives from Sweden, but it will slow things down for sure here. They are meant to have protein reactors up there by the end of the month, and no-one is sure about that timeline currently. Plenty to worry about regardless.

September 8th, 2035

Mary did another double shift yesterday, and passed out on our couch in the living space. I haven’t mentioned our housemates yet – Red and Jenna Holton, from “somewhere to the west” originally – and that is pretty much just because we rarely see them at this point. Red is on the boring crew on level thirteen, breaking ground on more side tunnels (the type of excavations which Mary’s team then uses) and putting in more time than Mary, and Jenna is in logistics at the warehouse district. She only works single shifts, but seems to spend her down-time at some other place. I think she’s not a fan of my Eco-Corps uniform, and is actively avoiding the housing unit while I am here. You’d think someone in Planning & Allocations would have checked for that before lumping us together.

Which brings me to the real news for tonight: Rec Unit 173 is heading out tomorrow, and I’m in charge of Bravo team. Standard water reclamation run, all by the book. Nothing fancy, nothing new, just the usual routine of finding and moving the old hardware. We have a Peacekeeper squad in support, just in case, and we have half a sector grid to work through. It will be the first reclamation run for our habitat, so the expectations are low/high: low for success, high for glitches and speed bumps. If we can just get all the civie volunteers to move in the same direction and not touch the wrong things, it will already be a Win in my books. Bonus points if no-one dies.

I wonder how the habitat is going to handle deaths - I just realized I have never given it any thought. Mulch reactors, to recycle and compost? Or would that be too much of a contamination risk, especially if there was illness involved? Cremation is probably the safest. Graves are out of the question, we won’t have any type of space for that in the bedrock layers - and if we buried people higher up in the softer soil layers, the risk of contamination comes back into play. I should ask Mary when she wakes. I probably won’t like the answer.

Diary Log: Max Denton Rec Unit 173, Eastern Defense Sector 7 Somewhere south-east of Warsaw, Poland September 9th, 2035 Mission: Day 1

Reclamation run Zero One, night one. RR01_01 according to the file header.

What a fucking day.

I’m writing this on my wrist compad, from inside an old apartment building we managed to find a clear space in just before sunset. The trucks are parked in the courtyard below, with the Peacekeepers on perimeter duty. Can’t say I envy them the night ahead. This sector is hell.

We left the habitat around 07:30, with the Peacekeepers leading in their Mantis rover and our two fat-wheeled Solomon trucks bumbling along behind them. Ten bodies per vehicle, myself in charge of the second Solomon (one team per vehicle). Driver is a kid named Eckelson, from somewhere up north. Drives well, but has not yet figured out how braking distances work. We set off to the sector grid we had been allocated, and it took us almost five hours of driving to get there. In a straight line, on a normal highway, it would have been perhaps ninety minutes? Absolute madness. We’re in a part of what used to be Poland, and now falls under that nebulous, shifting “Eastern Defense Sector 7” label. The handful of still-standing traffic signs we passed were in Polish, I think, but Eckelson said some of the later ones were Ukrainian. Who knows what this place was called before - no-one lives here any longer. The Shining Path warlords in Belarus have apparently been probing this area, and we passed some fresh wrecks along the side of the one road. Old Soviet personnel carriers, and those strange organic-looking poly-plastic rovers they have been growing in the Hong Kong labs. Then a handful of Eco-Corps wrecks too, mostly smaller rovers like the Mantis. Looks like two scout elements that had smashed into each other before retreating. Dense pluon forests surrounded the contact point, with golf-heads and purple parasols dominating, and I’m guessing the electro-magnetic interference from the golf-heads blinded the two scout columns until they were right on top of each other. Imagine dying because an alien fungus blinded your battle-cams…

Lunchtime arrived just as we reached our grid point. It had been an industrial park on the edge of a river before - in the Great Before, like the new generation calls it - and now… just ruins, and chaos, and rampant fungal growth everywhere. Gorkassy Park, something. The pluon lay on everything like a fluffy blanket, softening the corners and blurring the lines and making everything look half-melted and organic. You have to really squint and look hard - and use your imagination - to see the industrial lines beneath it all, to spot the sheds and warehouses and manufacturing floors that had once crowded the space here. Now: just pluon. Light purples, yellows, and shades of corpse-white, in a thick wave, drowning everything. We dismounted and started quartering the area, following behind the Peacekeepers as they checked for anything  hostile. Well… hostile and able to be shot. A large part of what we face here, cares little for men with guns and bombs trying to deter it. Everyone was in an Hostile Environment suit - us in bulky suits from the science division, the Peacekeepers in their sleek neo-carapace kit - and after the Peacekeepers finished their perimeters we began to spread out and follow our own search pattern.

We lost two Alphas and one Bravo before the first hour was out. The two Alpha guys walked into a room filled with bulloa bulbs, and got blown sideways through a third-storey window when something in the room triggered the bulbs. The third guy, behind them, says they stopped to check something on the floor, and the Peacekeepers found what could be an old SP tripwire in the leftovers, but it could have been anything. There’s old industrial wire everywhere, even more now after the blast. I’m furious - and resigned, now, more than ever - about the fact that no-one had briefed the idiots about bulloa bulbs. They are basically the claymore landmines of the pluon world, and if Hollywood has taught us anything after years of Vietnam movies, it is that you do not mess with claymores. Especially when the damn things grew their own spiderweb triggers through every space they occupied. With their spores now released, the next time we come back to that same space, in a month or two, the entire room would be solid with the same bulloa. Then when that mass blows, it takes the walls with it, and the spores spread even further, and… before you know it, in the space of a year or two, the building itself will be only rubble.

The Bravo kid stepped on a plank with a rusty nail that went through the ankle of his boot. He panics, rips his boot and mask off when he hyperventilates - and gets a lungful of cryateen and blue honey spores before his buddy gets his mask back on. We managed to get him back to the Solomon before he went into cardiac arrest, but after that nothing helped. He’s in a body bag in one of the storage compartments now, along with what is left of the two Alphas after their accident. Just a kid who volunteered to help, with some spectacularly bad luck.

We finished our initial sweeps after that, gave everyone the safety brief again, and tried to find a place to secure for the night. There were old laborer apartments on the western perimeter of the complex, and someone had fired out the fourth and fifth floor in the one block some time ago. I’m surprised the entire place had not burned down, actually, but something must have stopped it from spreading. We’re on those fired floors now, using the clean spaces - if you consider the soot and ashes a safer alternative to a pluon landscape - for our night camp. Everyone in their environ-cocoons for the night, and two people on guard at the stairway at all times. My shift is next. I don’t think I’m sleeping tonight.

September 10th, 2035 Mission: Day 2

I haven’t been awake this long, without sleep, for a long time. Today was a blur: we finished mapping the industrial complex, identified the components worth salvaging, and started dismantling the smaller components. Two eight-hour shifts, back to back. This entire area is classed as Environmentally Compromised, Unfit for Human Occupation - ECUHO, or just Echo when you get tired of pronouncing all the letters - so we can take what we need. Well: we being the Eco-Corps, and only as long as we have the proper paperwork. With the UN legislation from 2029/’30 coming in to aid the reclamation projects, Echo labels now let us strip and salvage anything we find above-ground, as long as there are no living claimants in the same area. A bit like the old maritime laws on finding a derelict ship in international waters, I guess, except we’re not trying to lay salvage and insurance claims against abandoned fishing trawlers in the Atlantic. Now we call it Echo because we’re left looking at echoes of our past lives (not my observation, someone on the Mime-net channel shared that a couple of years ago). Morbid, but not entirely untrue either. I feel like a carrion eater every time I take apart a machine or compo-stack that used to do something else before the world went to hell here. Seeing all those things that used to mean so much to other people, in another time, as they went through their daily tasks and dreams - and now we take it apart and use it to keep our habitats running. One of the Bravos said it felt like stealing clothing from a corpse, and the squad was pretty damn quiet after that.

No fatalities today, and only one casualty: an Alpha kid broke his arm when a container stack shifted and pinned him to a wall. No suit breach, thank the Pope. Kid’s doped to the gills on a stretcher in the Alpha Solomon now, with a tough tomorrow ahead of him.

We also had an afternoon light show, just after the clouds pulled in. Something detonated high up in the atmosphere to the north, and we had greens and purples dancing inside the clouds for a couple of minutes before it faded again. Almost like the Northern Lights, but definitely not something as harmless as solar radiation striking the atmosphere. The Peacekeepers shared a report from their battle-net, about a strike at Halverdt Station - but Halverdt is way over to the north-west, by my reckoning, so whatever we saw was something else. Shining Path testing new cloud-seeders? Fuck knows. Black rain rolled in after that, and we kept our work indoors for the handful of minutes that it pissed down with soot and black mold and kimpani blisters outside. The blisters look like little plastic eggs stuck inside a wet envelope - an orb with flat wings curling out in four directions - and they pop the moment you touch them. They can travel for hundreds of kilometers when airborne, according to the studies, so there is no way of knowing where they actually came from. Could be the next valley, could be Lithuania for all we know. Contains a mix of spores and a mild acid, and is an absolute bitch to clean once it gets into anything mechanical. I sent two of the Bravos to hose down our Solomon immediately after the downpour stopped.

I still don’t understand Shining Path. I mean, I’ve read their manifestos and notes and e-pamphlets that they flood into the public net, and I’ve read the psych reports and analysis shows from the com-net and the late-night forum pools on CNN and NBC and MegaNexus, and I just… I don’t get them. Who in their right mind can look at this unholy mess that we are in right now, and then think to himself “Hmm this is great, I want more of this”? We - and I use the Royal We here, as in ‘we the human race’ - are facing a tangible and substantial risk of complete and utter extinction, and SP wants us to embrace that. They want us to engage with the pluon, treat it as some type of savior or benign spiritual influence, and let it “change us for a better future” as they love to say. Commune with the spirits, feel the union of Gaia and Olmaya or whatever they call this supposed consciousness-gestalt that is in the pluon.

Where is the better future? We are corpse thieves right now, stripping the dead to keep the living going for another day - and SP wants us to stop fighting? Where is this Promised Land that they keep going on and on about? China? China is a hellscape, by all accounts: the rad zones on the Russian border from the Sunshine War, massed rabies in the south, and the industrial heartland overrun by fossil-eating pluon strands like white-vein and cracker mold. Beijing bombs everything that resists CCP authority, and still - SP moves where they will, takes over towns where they will, runs openly SP-aligned settlements along the Mongolian and Vietnamese borders, and nothing can stop them. They have even started building floating settlements on the river dams now, according to the satellite views.

I don’t understand them. Pluon - this plague of xeno-fungus - is not here to save us. It feels like Judgement Day, and Shining Path has become the fifth horseman of the Apocalypse.

I need sleep. We have two more days on-site before we can head back. The wind is up tonight, and my environ-cocoon moves and shudders around me like the intestines of some giant beast that has swallowed me whole. At least the apartment floors here are still dry after the black rain.

What could’ve been. Classic speculative space art by Robert McCall

Hello World

Time to expand the footprint a bit! My name is James Kenwood, and I am looking for a place to experiment with self-publishing: flash fiction, novellas, novels, and whatever else tickles my creative fancy. I will be using this blog Grim Acres to share and promote some of my writing. What do I focus on? Very simple: Lovecraftian dread set during World War Two - and sci-fi. Perhaps some sci-fi with tentacles too, since the intersection is already there. Or maybe sci-fi Nazis, although that trope is wearing a bit thin by now (says the one who just made a tentacle joke). Regardless! The Grim Acres will be the place where all this dread and darkness is shared. Feel free to send me a PM if you like what you read here, or have any thoughts to share. PS: you can also find me on Substack, under the same names. I'll post a URL for that once I'm sure tumblr won't shadow-ban me for linking to a "rival"...!

JOHN HARRIS

Robert McCall The Black Hole (1979)

Something I had to look into when researching possible ground combat on Mars: how do you fight - and survive - on a world where the atmosphere is 1/1000 Earth standard, and the temperature averages around -60 Celsius? How do you survive a suit breach and/or gunshot wound in that? Do you even have a chance to survive?

Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries (pt. 3)

Hostile Environments

It’s not uncommon for your characters to find themselves stranded somewhere with less than ideal conditions.

Cold

There are the obvious risks of hypothermia and frostbite.

The time for these to set in can vary drastically with temperature and windchill.

In both cases, warming should be done slowly or risk blistering of the skin and other complications such as shock.

Like burns, frostbite is classified into degrees of severity:

First degree frostbite – Numbness and whitening of skin.

Second degree – Outer layer of skin frozen, blistering likely when warmed.

Third degree – Skin is white or blue and blotchy. Skin and the tissue beneath it is hard and cold.

Heat

Risk of heat exhaustion or heat stroke.

Heat exhaustion is caused by insufficient water and salt intake. It is easy to develop without realising it.

Heat stroke is more severe and often follows untreated heat exhaustion. It is extremely dangerous and can be fatal.

Symptoms of Heat Exhaustion

Headache

Dizziness, faintness

Confusion and irritability

Thirst

Fast and weak pulse and breathing

Clammy skin and cramps

Additional Symptoms of Heatstroke

Hot, dry, flushed skin

Sweating stops altogether

Nausea

Disorientation up to and including hallucinations

Abnormal blood pressure

Elevated temperature

Unconsciousness

Treatment focuses on lowering the body temperature and rehydrating the person as quickly as possible.

Oxygen Deprivation

Apart from the obvious – lack of oxygen is rather bad for you (6-8 minutes for permanent brain damage) – the reason for the lack can have side effects of its own.

For example smoke, chemical or water inhalation can do physical damage to the lungs making breathing difficult even when the person is removed to a safe place.

Exposure to Vacuum

In short, your major problems would be…

Oxygen deprivation

Exposure to extreme cold

Expansion of gases within the body – meaning that holding your breath would be a Big Mistake, but not one you’d live to regret for very long

In a sudden decompression there would also be the risk of decompression sickness (the bends) and of getting hit by flying debris during the decompression itself.

Assuming you survived the initial decompression you’d have about 10 seconds of consciousness to do something about it and about one and a half minutes to live.

Parts of the body exposed would suffer from swelling, frostbite, and interrupted circulation.

Leaky spaceships

50% atmospheric pressure is enough to have people suffering from hypoxia (oxygen deprivation).

15% and you more or less, may as well be in vacuum.

Source: Leia Fee (with additions by Susannah Shepherd) More: Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Word Lists (Sick) (Pain) ⚜ Drunkenness ⚜ Autopsy

Writing Notes: Outline your Plot

THREE ACT STRUCTURE

Act 1: The first act establishes the world and rules of the world in which your story is set, starts the central conflict, and ends with a turning point that leads to the next act.

Act 2: Act two is the middle of your story and includes the rising action that sends the story and characters into crisis. This act raises the stakes of your story, fully immerses your characters into their journey, and ends with a turning point that leaves readers wondering if the characters will succeed.

Act 3: The third act leads to the climax and main confrontation of your story, sees them through this conflict, then de-escalates into resolution.

FREYTAG’S PYRAMID

Exposition: Exposition provides background information and presents the audience with the who, where, and when.

Inciting incident: The inciting incident is the first conflict your characters encounter.

Rising action: Rising action begins with the inciting incident and is when the conflict starts to escalate.

Climax: This is the height of tension in your story. Here the main character is usually forced to face a difficult truth or make an important decision.

Falling action: Falling action occurs due to the character’s reaction or decision during the climax. This section starts the process of tying up loose ends, dissolving the conflict, and leads to the resolution.

Resolution: The resolution finishes tying up loose ends and shows how events have unfolded and characters and their world has changed.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs