Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY
IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I
generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family
rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to
write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration
(quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then a thought or two that came to mind.
These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat,
irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if
anything comes of them.
F Trope: Appeal to a pastoral ideal:
Much genre fantasy, of all genres, appeals to the pastoral ideal, one reason
for the pseudo-medieval settings. Even urban fantasies will quite often depict
cities as blots on the landscape, whose denizens /are blinded to what really
matters by material ephemera. There are some fantasies, however, which either
deliberately take the opposite stance or present a more balanced worldview.
Current Event: “The Minnesota Renaissance Festival is a Renaissance
fair, an interactive outdoor event which focuses on recreating the look and
feel of a fictional 16th Century ‘England-like’ fantasy kingdom.”
Svenja Johannson
puttered around the edge of the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. She crossed her
arms over her chest, tossed her platinum blonde hair and said, “I was hoping
for a bit more authenticity.
Matias Gallagher,
strawberry blonde hair curled like a swim cap over his head, shook his head and
said, “Then you should have tried out for ‘Castle Life’.”
She snorted – a
sound worthy of a horse, Matias thought – “That’s just as fake.”
He scowled at her
and said, “Just because you Germans have all kinds of castles...”
“Not ‘all kinds of
castles’ – Wartburg Castle. That is the only castle.”
He shook his head
and said, “Speaking of Martin Luther, what makes you think you’d even like the
real Renaissance?”
“Are you kidding?
My ancestors lived then, there was no pollution, no noise, and definitely no
people!”
“What’s wrong with
people?” Matias asked as a pair of teenaged boys in basketball shorts, wearing
high-topped basketball shoes and suggestive slogans, walked past them using an
F-bomb every other word. They looked at him and Svenja. One flipped Matias the
bird, the other asked Svenja if she wanted to engage in a sexual act. After
Svenja fired a crude rejoinder back at him and Matias leaned back and folded
his arms across his chest, flashing both his six-pack and expanding his pecs,
the other boy waved him away. The two of them faded into the mob of 21st
Century Minnesotans stuffing their faces the way they did at the State Fair and
pretending they were in the 16th Century. Svenja glared at Matias.
Matias sighed,
“Point.” He paused and said, “Let’s just enjoy the RenFest for what it is.”
Svenja scowled as
a parade of knights in armor entered the Festival grounds, the earth trembling
under the pounding hooves. The steel plate, gold trim, and silver filigree
flashed in the brilliant afternoon light. There was a coolness in the air, a
tiny bite of autumn hinting at the winter not far away. There seemed to be
hundreds of knights prancing by. “There are so many...” she said.
“What?” Matias
shouted. “I can’t hear you!”
“There are so many
knights! Where did they come from?” The sun abruptly dipped behind a cloud.
There was a flash of light and clap of thunder, yet when Matias pressed his
hands over his ears, it seemed that only he and Svenja did so. Others around
them seemed oblivious to the darkness and cold. “What’s happening, Matias?” she
shouted.
“I don’t know...”
An instant later,
the sun came out again. Matias blinked in surprise and Svenja stepped closer to
him, grabbing his arm, long fingernails digging into his muscle. The first
thing he noticed was the stench of open sewer and the legless man sitting on
the ground in front of them...
Names: ♀
German, Swedish; ♂ Norwegian, Irish
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