Category Archives: Photos

To Qomolangma, and Beyond

I mapped out my route for the Qomolangma Sentinel! Hooray!

And since I love you all so much, I’m going to share it here:

Screen Shot 2014-08-02 at 10.11.28 AM

If you click on it, it will take you to the website I made it at. I don’t know if you give that many poops, but if so, click away!

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The Qomolangma Sentinel

My dieselpunk/teslapunk story is slow-going because of a few things:

1. I have a lot of studying for work (that I really should be doing right meow),

2. I’m essentially a single mom for a while, and

3. I have writer’s block.

I also have a post prepared about what a crock of shit writer’s block is. I know, that sounds crazy. Wait for it. 😀 Continue reading

Max’s Lair: Wyoming

When Max moved to America, he wanted to build his home in a completely isolated place so he wouldn’t have to deal with things like neighbors or police or SWAT teams–just in case, you know, one of his victims escaped the dungeon. He chose Wyoming, because back then, the only people in Wyoming were Native Americans, rugged mountain men and (eventually) Mormon pioneers who were really optimistic until the winter showed up.

Max’s ranch is near Rock Springs, but how near? Pfft like I know. He keeps it hidden, and he’s been spending a lot of money buying up all the land that he can. His tiny little ranch house is just a blip on the huge tract of land that he owns.

So, where does the most monstrous creature in the history of Earth call home? Check it out.

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Connor retreated to the entrance of the camp and stood with his hands in his pockets there. Ulrich joined him as soldiers from the 89th arrived and took in the gruesome sight before them. They had been ordered to leave the bodies where they lay, so the Nazi atrocities could be documented.

Ulrich lit a cigarette. “This place stinks,” he said.

Connor didn’t respond. He stared at the pile of bodies in the middle of the parade ground.

Ulrich took a drag and blew the smoke toward his friend. “Stop, Connor. You’ve seen bodies before, in worse shape than this.”

Connor shoved Ulrich half-heartedly. Ulrich hardly swayed. “Yeah, but this… this is horrible. They didn’t just kill them. They starved them and tortured them.”

“So?” Ulrich said. In a low voice, he added, “They’re just people, Connor.”

Myakka River

“The Myakka River’s dark waters ran to Brian’s left as he walked along the bank. Watercress and weeds grew along the water’s edge, depressed every few feet by gator trails. A heron stood in the shallows and watched him walk past.”