Steam....cont.

From the journal of J.K. Sart

May 18, 1901

Close to the afternoon and we still haven’t departed.  Upon speaking with the Captain I was informed more supplies needed to be loaded upon the ship before making the voyage to France.  I wish I had been given the funds to make a proper trip.  I knew Mr. Sutton was tight, but this is more than one can bear.  The cabin is filled with dust and grime, and I can hardly be expected to sleep on the mattress on the floor they called a bed.  I now know why no other associate of mine would make this trip.  I can only imagine what kind of position I would be in if my employer had paid less.  Most likely I’d have been up in cargo netting. 

Steam.....continued.

Letter to Master Edward Sart from Jonathan Kenneth Sart

May 18, 1901

Dear Edward,

            I hope that this letter finds you in good spirits and that your studies are progressing well.  As promised, I am writing you from the ship.  She is still moored and on solid ground but as you might imagine we shall be aloft soon.  I know you are eager to hear of my amazing adventures on the streets of New York, but I must confess that my work as kept me in doors for most of my days.  The life of law clerk is I’m afraid not very exciting, I would hope that upon my passage of the test that I would have more time to visit my adopted city. 

            I must admit that I am a bit out of sorts to be on one of these ships, don’t tell mother I am nervous as I’m sure the stress will do no good for her heart.  The craft is wooden, but otherwise unremarkable.  I believe one of the smaller of her kind, from stem to stern she is about 25 yards and across past ten.  She is decked with the finest brass and teak, or so I’m told and can travel many knots by either boiler or sail.  The smoke stack is quite pronounced and glistens in the noon day sun and the main mast is easily ten stories tall.  I wonder what kind of man could put himself up that pole without losing his wits?

The quarters are more than adequate as I have spent many months in the cubbyhole of an office.  I have a bed, a writing desk, and porthole to call my own, far more I’m sure than the crew receives. I have not had the chance to meet Captain or crew in earnest but from what I have glimpsed they are sound good men able to make this journey with no qualms. 

What adventure awaits me I know not, but I am truly happy that Mr. Sutton charged me with the responsibility of finding the heir to the estate.  I did not know what to think when I was picked for the assignment only that some mistake must have been made, but to my good fortune it appears that no other clerk in Mr. Sutton’s employ readily accepted the task or appreciated the chances it might bring.  If I do well, the Maker willing, upon my return I am sure to reap great rewards. 

I will write again when we have lifted away,

                                                     With much love, your brother

                                                                               J.K. Sart.

Steam... continued.

Clipping of the New York Times posted to the journal of Edward Sart

June 1897 

           America’s greatest scientists converge upon a small Texas town. As previously reported, the airship that crashed upon the tiny town of Aurora, finds itself under the microscope of much scientific speculation. Judge Proctor, on whose land the ship exploded, claimed salvage rights of the craft soon after on-lookers began to surround his farm. The judge, an amateur astronomer of some local note, instantly recognized the potential of such an incident and sought the town’s help in gathering as much of the debris as possible. “I knew the skyship was a value to any man of science and thusly wanted to preserve as much as I could.” The judge said.

          Thanks to the good judge’s reasoning, great men of science now pour into the town to examine and take away portions of the craft. Among those of note just arriving at the site are the famous Mr. Edison with his protégée Mr. Tesla in tow. With so many great minds examining the craft who knows what the future may bring!

Steam

Clipping of the Dallas-Time Herald posted to the journal of Edward Sart April 1897

         At about 6 o'clock this morning the early risers of Aurora were astonished at the sudden appearance of the airship which has been sailing around the country. It was traveling due north and much nearer the earth than before. Evidently some of the machinery was out of order, for it was making a speed of only ten or twelve miles an hour, and gradually settling toward the earth. It sailed over the public square and when it reached the north part of town it collided with the tower of Judge Proctor's windmill and went into pieces with a ghastly explosion, scattering debris over several acres of ground, wrecking the windmill and water tank and destroying the judge's flower garden. The pilot of the ship is supposed to have been the only one aboard and, while his remains were badly disfigured, enough of the original has been picked up to show that he was most likely a Martian.

I'm going to try and write a steampunk story.

Wish me luck!!

When I was a child I tried my hand at writing stories. I enjoyed it. I never went to school to write and I wonder what my life would have been like if I had. I think I have this notion that writers are artists and I have no idea what artists are all about. My wife was once married to a painter and she tells me stories of his adventures.

I don't have adventures...I just like to write, maybe that makes me an impostor in this art thing. I listen to other writers and I wonder how they came up with their ideas and sparkling prose. I'm writing a book, although right now I'm stuck at 40,000 words.

I wanted to become a lawyer before I died because it sounded neat. It was hard work and a lot of money and time. In the end the law has caused me a lot of pain. I charged too little and did too much. As I sit here and write this I wonder if it was all worth it. I think I did a lot of good, but I wish I enjoyed it more.

The law is more like verbal math than writing prose. You have your issue, your law, your facts, and then the analysis. Logic was never my strong point in school but I guess I got good at it. The whole legal process so formulaic that for a while I couldn't figure out how the "real" world worked anymore. I don't need all that to write. I just need a pen and paper.

I enjoy writing, which makes it feel like I'm cheating somehow.

So

What the hell am I doing in Charleston, S.C? Family issues and burn out mostly. I'm not practicing law right now. Honestly, I was losing my mind at the violence and the work load so taking a break was something I needed to do. Will I practice again? I'm not sure of anything, but I am happy with the break.

What's life like down here? Its hot....its very very hot.
What am I doing? A little bit of everything but a lot of writing mostly.