The Lost King

I can sh*t on you all I want. Why, you ask? Because I'm the King, and you're not.

More delving into research led me to pick up two more books today while at the bookstore. Sadly, Larry Correia and Mike Kupari’s effort Dead Six was not in stock. Lame, right?

However, compulsory research has led me to G. J. Meyer’s The Tudors and Chris Skidmore’s Edward VI: The Lost King of England. Both look very promising, since both touch on the court intrigue which I need to research for both Wraithkin and Failsafe. Of course, Failsafe is just the named Lady in Red story idea that has (damn it all) been plaguing my sleep as of late. The title derives from the pirate haven from out in the middle of nowhere (screw Tortuga… Disney ruined that one for all of us… thanks, Disney) and the entire idea that everything needs to have a fail-safe device when the SHTF. So the pirate haven’s name? Failsafe, because every pirate needs one when the SHTF.

Combined with the horribly awesome Tudors show on television (which has ended, and I’ve seen every episode now ::spoiler alert:: Henry VIII dies) and a strange take on SF (I’ve been delving into strange aspects of writing that, 5 years ago, I was not nearly sophisticated enough to tackle), I’ve been focusing more on the political aspects (aka, background crap) for the worlds I’m playing in now. Wraithkin has a very deep and dangerous political climate, while Failsafe tends to have the less-is-more mentality. Both require research on traditional monarchies, dangerous liaisons between parliaments and the rulers and have a general “Well, that sucks for you… His/Her Majesty has changed His/Her mind…” attitude about it.

Yes, monarchies are both fascinating and ridiculous.

By the way, I slept for over 12 hours last night. Did you know that you can have hundreds of dreams in that time frame? I didn’t until last night. Failsafe was plotted by my dreams of a red leather woman with an eye patch who yelled “Damn it, get down to the boiler room and fix my turbines!” a lot. Seriously. This woman loves her some turbines. Her ship makes the Millennium Falcon (what’s a falcon?) seem as fast as a Mississippi ferry boat (circa 1880).

She almost reminds me of my dad. I hope she doesn’t develop the desire to create campfires with magnesium.



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