Sci-Fi Brain runs amok writes a story

Below out from brain cells denuded of some ergs of energy dissipated of finally having finished the first draft of my third novel. A trilogy where the first book ending in Afghanistan with the Soviets in possession of an alien artefact. The second novel - up a level of magnitude to the galactic has an ending not that of Hollywood. That is an imperative. Redemption is expected by producers/publishers who seem to have learnt nothing from history. Which means us as humans. Reality is simply not nice and neat and proper. Has no respect for morals or good inclinations. This does not mean the opposite is valid either. As Stanislaw Lem wrote: Evolution is opportunist. It is not perfectionist. And there readers is where it starts to go all wrong. That is the foundation ethos [!] of my novels. If in doubt read history. It will not disappoint. Humans do this quite adequately of themselves

30 cms of piled up files.This is the scribbled results of my third sci fi novel's first draft. Most of it I typed. Because by computer I tend to over write. It all flows out of my head too easily. Letters of extravagance. Effusions of profusion. Typing slows things down a little. Changing paper helps collect thoughts. Get back on track. Stop bifurcating into plots left for later. Then it finally died. Not my brain, the typewriter. Trusty machine for over many years. The metal alignment for the ribbon to meet the upraised letter went all to pieces. Like some of my plots. Beyond repair I discovered writing by hand. How radical is that! It actually worked. As long as I print write. Because writing as taught by school ended up an unrecogniseable scrawl. Like my for ever forged signature. Never the same! BIC birows ended up leaking. Parker Pens when over 30C went all blotchy. I live DownUnder. So discovered these Japanese ones called Pilot. 0.38mm needle like delivery. Nice coloured ink to go with them. Blue, green real fire engine red. Use them depending on type of character and their evocations. So there, finally done. It's the last of a trilogy with a real final ending.

The first one was the ingress of alien noise totally turning Earth's history into one endless calamity. It ends in 1979 with the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan. An alien artefact is to be reclaimed. What the novel is not is a Raiders type copy clone. Here some heroes get blown away. #2 goes galactic to Earth’s once localized location. A mental manic religious theocratic global power is taking on the galaxy. Which introduces a new weapon that can destroy whole worlds and does so. Then the third the finale where the struggle now is intergalactic. Plus a rogue machineMind intelligence intent on causing maximum havoc to bio-sentient life forms regardless. But that is merely at first an inconvenience.

It will end this trilogy. One not thought of by anyone. Won and lost with weapons not as yet even conceived of. Though I have come across one sci fi author who has was close to this conceptualization. Has not run with it though I'm glad to say. So that is that. For now.

It takes me years to write a novel. The research. The writing! The plots are more than what some sci fi franchises manage to get away with. Repeat repeat repeat. Not here. No way. Multi mental sentients, multiple plots. Nothing is sacred. Being good does not protect. Fate is fickle. Destiny denied. Doomed are those who try too hard. Then again being perfidious might get an alien an advantage.

Until then readers and writers of exceptional talent. If interested the first two are free at this site: