Jack of Harts

I have created many characters that walk through the stories that I write. And in many ways they are real people in my mind. Sometimes they feel more real than the physical world around me. I often find myself asking “What would <character name> do?” when I see something happening. They all have different answers. I keep them straight by having a cheat sheet of major characters, giving their basic statistics, where they were born, where they grew up, and stuff like that. I also have character portraits of them. I’ve hired artists to make them. I use 3D software to make my own. The key is that whenever I am writing a character into a story, I pull up their picture and put it on the screen next to my writing window. I pull up my cheat sheet and place that next to their picture. And then I write. The characters I put to page feel real to me because I see them in my mind and with my eyes. And it is my great hope that I convey that reality with the words that flow through my fingers.

I grew up listening to music. Michael Jackson. David Bowie. Prince. They were all part of the music of my youth. Music has always helped soothe my mind so I can concentrate on things. Without music in the background I feel…like something is missing. I always have. Music makes me better. And music brings memories of the books I was reading or writing while I listened to it. Music is a window to my past. Michael Jackson. David Bowie. Prince. They changed music. They helped me grow up. They will always stand strong in the soundtrack of my youth. And I will always remember what it is like to party like it is 1999…

In 2205, we learned the answer to one of the oldest questions of all time. Are we alone? They brought medicines with them that nearly wiped out diseases, and extended the human lifespan into the centuries. They helped us study advanced technologies, and expand our colonies hundreds of lightyears from Earth. It was a golden age that many thought would never end.

Then their enemies brought War to us all. We gave them a belly full of it. We drove them out of Alpha Centauri and assembled the largest, most powerful fleet that had ever flown under Terran banners. Third Fleet was our best hope to defeat them and bring a quick end to The War. It failed.

Now the last survivor of that doomed expedition sails for Alpha Centauri. Returning home is always the greatest wish of a soldier, but home does not always welcome their return. The heavy cruiser Los Angeles and her crew have made enemies, both foreign and domestic, and they have plans for her. But she is not without friends, and they have plans as well. Can she survive when all of those plans crash into each other?

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