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nillcord.bsky.social
HMH Murray
@nillcord.bsky.social
2.1K followers 1.8K following 2.6K posts
Writer of space opera and fanfiction
NYC Midnight Finalist SS 2024
Futurescapes 2022
Codexian SFWA

http://hmhmurray.substack.com

https://books2read.com/u/47LkkR
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nillcord.bsky.social
HMH Murray @nillcord.bsky.social · 10h
books2read.com/u/47LkkR

Navvy is free on the zon this week!

If you've ever experienced that age-old struggle of taking a job, falling in love, and trying not to blow up any suns, you may relate to Polla's tribulations.

The struggle is real!

Well, some of it is. Probably

#booksky 🪐📚💙
#sff
Cover of navvy dreams. A woman has a stone dagger and is standing on a ship in front of a castle.
nillcord.bsky.social
books2read.com/u/47LkkR

Navvy is free on the zon this week!

If you've ever experienced that age-old struggle of taking a job, falling in love, and trying not to blow up any suns, you may relate to Polla's tribulations.

The struggle is real!

Well, some of it is. Probably

#booksky 🪐📚💙
#sff
Cover of navvy dreams. A woman has a stone dagger and is standing on a ship in front of a castle.
November 26, 2025 at 12:57 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Sorry, I swear, this last snippet I share.
“Bedalia will fly for you,” he said, although the ship had just not. “If you avoid the chair and command her—” “I was! She grabbed me in! And I saw things, things in her—” I shuddered. “I think they were memories.” “What?” I swallowed. “You lot worked for Kaygaz, but then you didn’t. You turned on him. Why?” His eyes had locked on my face. “My sister discovered he was manufacturing biological weapons. And worse.” I realized I’d collected all of my limbs into a ball, so that none of me touched anything but the metal deckplates. “What’s worse?” “Why do you want to know?” His brow creased. “That’s where she got Starfire, isn’t it? From starflier. That boy meant a lot to her. Did you know him too?” His mouth went white. “What boy?” “Oeri,” I said. “Or Oerin? I think I saw him—” But Davad didn’t know about our Aemercy expedition. “It doesn’t matter. There was a kid she knew—Oeri. Kaygaz’s son?” “Yes.” That expression was undefinable. “You remember his son—” “Did you know her memories were in the ship?” “No.” He barely breathed the word. “What else did you see?” “I don’t like her,” I said. He laughed sharply. “Oh, but she’d like you.” “What?” Rathe butted in, crouching beside me. “Let me handle this, Arkan. Sexy says you’re upsetting her.” “Rathe, please—” Mureen began. “What?” My copilot's voice flattened. “You keep pushing us, Mureen, and it keeps going wrong. This should be my call.” “I didn’t know.” Davad’s throat bobbed when he swallowed, and I had the alien thought that Dee looked so vulnerable, that I’d knocked him completely off guard—that in this state, I could ask for a moon and he’d bring it out of orbit. “What else did you see?” “I think Nate has hooves,” I muttered. “Saw 'em yesterday morning when I was brushing my teeth. Or else I’m losing my mind.”
November 26, 2025 at 12:02 AM
nillcord.bsky.social
My other big project of the day... This experiment with formatting flashbacks. I think it works.

I'm not sure if keeping them in talics is overkill.
“—NewLaramie’s where they’re hiding their command base!” My voice rang across the command board. “If we cut off the head, their entire expansion into this sector should collapse—Kaygaz will have no recourse but retreat.” Xao hesitated, but the rest were won. Even Vadim gave the nod— “—used to go to NewLaramie with Therion.” I finished, weakly. In truth, I’d spent most of my time on Neskey with Hana Stubblefield. Scratching an itch that Therion couldn’t slake and I— —I drew back from the water while Nate splashed ahead. Life screamed in my senses. Perhaps he was still deaf to the danger of this place. Or perhaps he really was the true revolutionary—the one willing to sacrifice everything— “Polla?” Rathe leveled an arm beneath my shoulders. I didn’t want to seem weak. “Just ghosts,” I said, rubbing my temples. (You think I was blind? You’re right. But we humans tell ourselves stories when faced with the black. We make up tales about “Pilot Heaven” and gods. We call for the saints and say the blessed aliens descended to save humankind—but the truth is worse. The truth is, we were always alone. All we’ve ever had of gods are bones, the skins of their forgotten children.) It took a while to work the kinks from my limbs. I hadn’t been wearing a flightsuit, and soft parts of me had been pressed into hard places. My teeth chattered,
November 25, 2025 at 11:40 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Not quite landed, as per highlights, but close.

Welcome to the cult, Virmarr. I do love him.
November 25, 2025 at 11:30 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
kyesc.bsky.social
Working on the second in a trilogy. First episode published at
www.amazon.com/dp/B0CN6B1HMH/

Our alien friends have the concept of politics in their culture! Is this one of the universal aspects of sentient societies?

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #indiauthors
November 25, 2025 at 4:24 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Some of the stuff I do, or try to do, in the #Navvyverse is explore the way people handle impossible choices and imperfect solutions.

Writing out my characters' reactions takes a while to get right. Sometimes, anyway. Sometimes I have to kind of workshop it to understand what they'd do.
November 25, 2025 at 8:21 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Editing tip of the day:

(I feel laughable sometimes presenting myself as ant expert, and this is all somewhat tongue in cheek.)

BUT!

Sometimes when you're just doing copyedits it is really good to have something on in the background--like a holiday movie or a murder show--so you don't rewrite.
November 25, 2025 at 4:43 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
I don't know if it's me, or the watching the show while filling in copyedits, but Season Three of "The Fall..." So... They've captured a serial killer. They have him in an unguarded hospital room, and they've assigned him a nurse that looks exactly like all of his victims... And not a trap.
November 24, 2025 at 9:29 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Have reached halfway point in copyedits, jeez this book is long.

There are points where, if I can toot my own horn, I blow myself away. There are other points that do not... Trying to deal with them.

There is a complicated thing I am trying to do in chapter 15 that is causing me fits.
November 24, 2025 at 5:29 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Aside from misallocating my commas, this is my most common kind of typo.

I call it: the edit without the delete.

My brain just stutters and doesn't finish the process.
November 23, 2025 at 9:07 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
woodenvelt.bsky.social
Spencer and Wren summon a ghost.

From my romantasy wip about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #Wrencer
“Let’s get on with it then.” Spencer drained the remains of his port in one long gulp and set the glass on the table with a soft clink. “What’s the departed’s name?” “The Honorable Duke Shelton Bryce Cormier Var Dunnis, Shelly to his friends.” “Bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?” Spencer hoisted two wooden chairs lining the wall and carted them to the reading table. Wren picked up the ring and set it neatly on the black cloth-covered surface beside a folded scrap of paper. “Oh, you know how it is with nobles,” she smirked, taking a seat at the table. “The length of your name is directly proportional to your level of swank.” With a chuckle, Spencer took the chair opposite her and tugged at the corner of the silk square covering the summoning crystal. It slid free in a pale waterfall of fabric. Spreading his hands across the table, he cleared his throat and looked at Wren. She gave a nod, signaling that she was ready. Spencer laid his left hand over the ring and touched the base of the crystal with his right. Wren had seen mediums and card readers with polished crystal balls before, but Spencer used a solid chunk of six-sided quartz with spires jutting out of a rocky base. Darkening from clear at the tips to smokey gray near the bottom, the thing was nearly as large as her head. I’d need a mule and a pulley if I wanted to nick it.
November 22, 2025 at 1:19 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
5feetofredfury.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #writingprompt

Somewhere between book 3 and book 4. I'm not sure yet, but
🥰🥰🤭
Though in the privacy of their room with the guqin playing softly from afar, when Daisuke looped a necklace with a shard of rose quartz around Obito’s neck with trembling hands, then dipped his head so his partner could do the same, it only seemed right to trade at least one of the three ceremonial bows—the one meant for each other. No blessing that would never come was needed from their families, no promise that they’d never keep made to the heavens; only the truth about how they felt for one another mattered. A union, but without the baggage of marriage.
November 22, 2025 at 1:26 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
My other editing tip of the day: sex scenes.

Less is usually more. You can go wild in those early drafts... But 9/10, you probably want to cut phrases like "swollen areola" from the published version.

We will never speak of it again.
November 21, 2025 at 7:51 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
Another part of editing: noticing the "first drafty" sentences that you just kind of let fly with their many many things saying the same thing in an overly ornate way.

And trimming them on accord with the slightly less flowery of the character pov.

Or in a few cases, making them more.
November 21, 2025 at 5:41 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
chantal-agapiti.bsky.social
A Variety of
Indie Books for Mood readers.

Let's see where your mood takes you today.
thedreamersbookshop.myshopify.com

Thank you for supporting indie books 💙📚

#indieauthor #bookrecommendations #booklover #booknerd #bookaddict #romancebooks #fantasybooks #books #scifibooks #shopindie #booksky
November 21, 2025 at 7:51 AM
Reposted by HMH Murray
mcburnellauthor.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 'special'

I really liked writing this friendship. They started out enemies.
The special people cleared off the instant Dyafer set about cleaning up the mess, although everyone had had a hand in making it. She felt a stir of resentfulness and went over to her friend. Rested an arm across the shorter woman’s shoulders while Mercuria issued orders to their mages. Dyafer wasn’t the only one who didn’t have miraculous powers from the ancient world; she wasn’t the only one who felt responsible for dealing with the damage; she wasn’t the only one still here, doing the unglamorous.
November 20, 2025 at 8:24 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
mollyjongfast.bsky.social
Live your life so you’re not the only living president and vice president not to be invited to a former vice president’s funeral
November 20, 2025 at 9:50 PM
nillcord.bsky.social
#Novmember 20
November 20, 2025 at 5:45 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
zohrankmamdani.bsky.social
On this Trans Day of Remembrance, we remember the bright and courageous trans people whose lives were stolen by hatred. Their absence is felt across our city.

We will honor them by building a New York where every trans person can live safely, fully and freely.
November 20, 2025 at 4:57 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
laurajohansen.bsky.social
That's the same rate for piecework my great-grandmother got at the Maidenform factory in Bayonne, NJ almost a century ago - that's not a current, livable wage in any place
November 20, 2025 at 12:13 AM
Reposted by HMH Murray
simonguy.bsky.social
The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies as Discovered by the Reverend Robert Kirk in his Various Sojourns in the Fabled Realms of Open Source.
A photo of a copy the 2007 NYRB edition of The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies by Robert Kirk. The cover art is a detail of The Fairy Feller's Master Stroke by Richard Dadd.
November 20, 2025 at 12:39 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
acturek.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #special

Cerel sits with Drisal and the unconscious Rushak. “ Beyerfind Rose” is wine. First speaker is Drisal.

- Brother’s Keeper, book one of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
"How did this happen?" His tone was beseeching. "You've withheld so much." Cerel sat beside them, eyes averted. "I've told you all I understand. Anything more will have to come from him." Drisal nodded, arms folded, clearly unsatisfied with his answer but said nothing more. He shuddered, nearly beyond comfort. Cerel had to give him something. "We celebrated his Naming day," he offered. The day that should have been, but wasn't. Drisal looked up, interested, even smiled a little while Cerel told him the story. "Where did you get Beyerfind Rose?" "From Jer. I was saving it for a SPECIAL occasion. I judged that qualified." "Imaärta," Drisal said. "You carried it all that way! It's more than he would have received at home." Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
November 20, 2025 at 1:02 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
professoremily.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

More worldbuilding today! They're talking about the Growing Rooms, which are special rooms with built in grow lights. Weird but useful!

From #Tenement, my dystopian mystery about people living in an infinite building.
“That’s right, Jonathan. And how many in Exeter Neighborhood, specifically?” “Two hundred fifty-eight.” Jon took a big chomp out of a bell pepper. “We ha’ the mosh ekshept for Levish Neighborhoog. They go’ three-hungred for’y-sheven.” “Swallow before you talk please.” Mrs. Schultz grimaced. “But, yes, that’s correct. Now, who remembers what makes the Growing Rooms so different from other rooms?” “It’s becaush they—” “Someone other than Mr. Neal?” Jon sulked. The rest of us glanced awkwardly at each other. “Uh...?” Greg Bielski spoke up, bravely but foolishly. “Could you repeat the question?” She sighed. “I asked what makes the Growing Rooms so special. Anyone? Mr. Enokido?” “Why’d you pick me, Mrs. Schultz?” Kazuo asked. “Because you looked like you really wanted to be picked.” Kazuo scratched his head, mussing his black hair. “Uh, let’s see. Because, um...?” His eyes wandered toward Jon, who was trying to mouth the answer to him. Unfortunately, Jon was terrible at mouthing answers. “Because of—the lights?” he guessed blindly. “Lucky guess, Kazuo,” she said. “But that’s correct.”
November 20, 2025 at 1:20 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
sayaashrah.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 20. "Special"

Datusha is a very special sword :)

And Happy Trans Day of Remembrance to all my trans siblings out there: don't ever let the clowns smother our light, no matter how hard they try!

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“But how does it know you? Have you fought before?” “You could say that.” There was a hint of amusement in the sword’s reply. “You told me you’re valuable to Ulorzz because you’re its eyes in the Astral Plane, right? A plane it cannot access by itself.” “Correct.” “That wasn’t always the case. Once upon a time, Ulorzz could walk among the spirits, like all of Death’s children. Take a guess at who severed its connection.” Ashrah came to a sudden stop, her eyes wide when she looked down at the sword. “You?!” “Oh, yes! One of the most satisfying moments in my long, loooong existence! How it despises me for that! Drowned me in one of its volcanoes, too.” “And you survived?” Obviously, it had, but Ashrah could not help but be once again amazed at Datusha’s resistance to everything that would have decimated any other creature. Or sapient artefact. “Survived? Hah! I absorbed as much of the Nether energy in its Eternal Flame as I could, then sent it off with a special coat of psychic force. Exploded half of its layer and gave the bastard a headache it didn’t forget for millions of Pulses!”
November 20, 2025 at 12:38 PM
Reposted by HMH Murray
brandyo71.bsky.social
#wipsnips
#writingcommunity
#writersofbluesky
#writesky
#booksky
#amediting
#litfic
There’s something else, Rosie says to her. I’m not sure how to say this, because I do understand your feelings about the bench. And I know you are protecting the family and, she pauses, perhaps yourself. No one wants to be constantly reminded of a tragedy like this. I get it. It’s just that something like this bench isn’t just for the Davies family, or for you. It’s for the community. When something like this happens, it doesn’t just happen to one. It happens to all. Everyone sees themselves in the family; they see their child. There needs to be an outlet for those feelings to emerge as a group. We all belong to each other. That’s what makes it so special on the hill.
November 20, 2025 at 9:57 AM