Cheri's Blog


A rough-textured wall painted with many realistic human eyes. They're all looking to the right.

I’m never so productive as I am on the road. At home, I’m apt to struggle with motivation, even when the “things I need to do” equal the “things I want to do.”

Each day here contains roughly the same routine. Up early to grab a cup of coffee from a nearby cafe. Three or four intense hours of sightseeing, walking 5 or 6 miles, taking lots of photos. Eat a big, healthy lunch. Take a big nap. Wake up and write for several hours, lost in the story until it’s dark outside. Another walk, shorter this time, to grab a snack and stretch my legs. I haven’t been hungry enough for dinner. Just that big lunch, after which I crash like a hibernating bear.

Sometimes the day is reversed, with writing in the morning and sightseeing in the afternoon. Either way, I’m surprised at how much I’m getting done. Lots of exercise. Eating less junk. Getting my words in, and enjoying them. Less time for boredom, for self-doubt, for getting distracted.

I wish that I felt “like this” when I’m at home. I wish I was walking six miles a day, and eating better, and feeling so productive. Yet I’ve never found the knack of being travel-Cheri when I’m home-Cheri.

Perhaps I’ll figure it out? When I only have two or three hours to write, I certainly spend less time faffing around. And it’s good to be busy, I think, to keep the body as active as the mind. If only I could figure out how to keep it all alive when I’m back in my comfortable rut.

I’ll leave this post here as a reminder to think on it.

Photo: Lisbon Street Art, Alfama Neighborhood

#travel #lisbon #writing

Works in Progress

Good morning from //Redacted// Station. Well, that's where I'm headed in today's Hard Way Home chapters, anyway. Yesterday Patrick and I did some brainstorming about space stations, and the notion of a space station as a frontier outpost, the last stop for fuel and supplies before heading into the unknown.

Seattle was once an outpost town. Starry-eyed rubes came here by the thousands to buy prospecting gear, all on the basis of a newspaper article that claimed there was gold up in Alaska. The provisioners got rich, and the rubes went broke.

//Redacted// Station is my little Seattle, I suppose. Actually, it's nothing like Seattle at all, but some of the same pioneer spirit applies. There's a little bit of my hometown in everything I write, one way or another. I can't help it.

I've been squirreling away ideas for months, getting ready to write my first space station scene. Have you seen Eric Wernquist's short animated film, One Revolution Per Minute? It's gorgeous, and while the space station in my head isn't nearly so luxurious, art like that inspires me. Music helps too. Today's soundtrack is Atlantis from Marvel 83.

Behind every paragraph and scene, there's so much that readers never see. The music and art that inspired me, various bits of research, the conversations I've had, and the weeks or months spent dreaming. I suppose that’s one reason to be happy about this blog. It gives me a chance to share some of those influences with you.

Last night, and the night before, I fell asleep thinking of Loretta and //Redacted// walking through //Redacted// Station. Am I ready to write this chapter? I think so.

Into the book I go!

Today's post is about The Hard Way Home.

Book Cover for the Hard Way Home. It shows a ship in a purple nebula

#writing #wip #firstguardian

Note: I redact certain details from these posts to avoid spoilers.

Works in Progress

I'm working on my next space opera novel, The Hard Way Home, and I recently learned there's another name for the kind of story I'm writing. Near Future science fiction. The Martian is considered Near Future science fiction and so was Project Hail Mary. The Expanse series might fit the bill, although I guess it depends upon how “near” we're talking about.

Think Sailboat, not Starship

When I started writing this series, I wanted to tell stories about humanity's early expansion into the universe. Humans living on the moon and on Mars, but for a matter of decades, not centuries. And with no Trekian luxuries like “antigrav,” force fields, or FTL (faster than light) engines. When stories are set in the distant future, it's easier to handwave the difficulties of space travel away, but that’s harder in the near future.

I’ve been thinking a lot about gravity. How we evolved within it, and the various ways it impacts our bodies and everyday life.

Outlaw Justice took place in a domed city on Mars called Epiphany, but The Hard Way Home takes place mostly in space, thus I'm spending more time in zero gee with my characters, thinking about how that kind of environment affects what happens in the story. It helps that I've spent a lot of my free time watching NASA videos! But other influences that are just as helpful. I've been reading first-hand accounts of sailors at sea, and about some of their customs and how they’ve developed, and I'm trying to grasp the psychological toll of being adrift in a small craft, dependent upon your crew, luck, and the strength of your preparations.

Space opera isn't “hard sci-fi,” but what matters to me is that it feels real. And one thing I'm fairly certain of at this point is that space wants us dead. Space makes the untamed oceans of our world seem like meek little kittens in comparison.

As much as I dream of traveling through the stars, there are so many reasons why we are unlikely to have humans living our their lives off-planet anytime soon. Societies are complicated and require a lot of resources that we take for granted. NASA grew and lost one tiny tomato recently. That's where we're at right now! We are explorers, yes, but it is so so early.

Writing Believable Stories in Space

So, I've got a fat list of practicalities to manage in this story. Sweat doesn't roll down your back without gravity. Can a body heal from major trauma in zero gee? How is radiation handled? Does space have the radiological equivalent of bad weather? How does it manifest? And what about combat? If a ship fires a weapon, how do the engines compensate for the ship's “equal and opposite” reaction? And – oh my gosh – what else am I forgetting? 😂

It’s a lot.

These aren't problems you need to worry about. Instead, you can relax in the knowledge that behind most every science fiction story there's an author in full-on research mode, doing her best to add some salt of verisimilitude to her story. And it’s all background, anyway. The Hard Way Home isn't about the difficulties of space travel so much as it's about adventure in the interstellar frontier. It's about pirates and colonists and friends trying to keep one another alive...

The technical stuff? Well, that's just work. It’s part of the worldbuilding, and how it influences the story is both interesting and fun.

Writing about space has a way of making me grateful for life on Earth. I'm really happy to have gravity. And a magnetosphere. Dirt!

Space is hard. I doubt we'll settle permanently there until long after I'm gone. But damn is it fun to dream. And that’s what a good story is, I think. A dream I can share with you.

Speaking of which... back to work.

Do you like space opera? You can get an early bird discount by pre-ordering your digital copy of The Hard Way Home from my bookstore.

Book Cover for the Hard Way Home. It shows a ship in a purple nebula #writing #wip #firstguardian

For me, the writing process begins long before I start drafting the novel. Usually, it starts with a new voice in my head, one too powerful to ignore. In the case of my upcoming book, Outlaw Justice, the first voice I ever heard was Loretta Ryder's.

A pretty woman looks to the left. She has long, reddish brown hair and strong yet femine features.

Loretta's “casting photo” from my writing journal. We all imagine fictional characters differently, but this is how I see her.

I remember it was November 2020, and this 'new voice' in my head wouldn't let me sleep. She was writing a letter to someone, thinking the words out loud. After a bit of grumbling, I crawled out of bed at 2am to write her words down.


A paperback copy of The Assistant rests on a table next to a dark black hat and a gun.

The first book in my Emerald City Spies series begins with a short prologue written from the perspective of the city itself.

Let’s get one thing straight: Seattle doesn’t care about you.

Oh, we’ve got a reputation for being nice. A lie so old even the locals believe it. But our history speaks a sweeter truth. Seattle’s spirit was forged during the Klondike gold rush. We grew wealthy selling tents and food and sex to starry-eyed prospectors. And today? Different century, same game. Seattle’s always been a company town. We take someone with a vision —  the profitable kind — and line up enough idealists to do the heavy lifting. They work cheap, and we’ve always had a knack for attracting them. Our city thrived on that system, and we’ll always thrive. We pushed gold, then wood, then airplanes, then software, then coffee, then websites that everyone laughed at. But who’s laughing now? Not us! Retail is dead, and houses here start at half a mil.