IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 444

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. Regarding Fantasy, this insight was startling: “I see the fantasy genre as an ever-shifting metaphor for life in this world, an innocuous medium that allows the author to examine difficult, even controversial, subjects with impunity. Honor, religion, politics, nobility, integrity, greed—we’ve an endless list of ideals to be dissected and explored. And maybe learned from.” – Melissa McPhail.

Trope: Fantasy -- Allergic To Evil

Current Event: http://www.theregister.co.uk/2014/03/20/satan_dinosaur_chickens_hell/

Andre Xavier Xavier, a Bryshwyn of Bryshwyns, the turban on his head release more than its usual curl of very pale, very curly hair. The curls sprang out all around.

As well, a line of monks striding in loose exercise uniforms keeping cadence happened by at that moment. Andre used a vulgar word that made even Raven Zoe Jefferson, a Nobody of Nobodys blush in embarrassment. The lead monk called a different cadence and they set off at a faster pace. Zoe said, “If I’d shouted that, I’d be in the gym for the next forty hours.”

“That’s not true!” Andre exclaimed.

Fendwyri  Alyn Wader, whose family enabled music to communicate in addition to entertaining, walked by and said, “Of course it is, Bryshwyn! If it wasn’t for our kind, the Vacancy would be permanently filled with evil.”

“I thought you were allergic to evil, Wader?” Andre shot at the older boy.

Fendwyri spun around, eyes narrowing to slits as he shot back, “Aren’t you late to meditation?”

“Aren’t you?” The musician opened his mouth to snarl a reply then turned and ran.

Andre muttered the first syllables of another enablement.

Zoe kicked him in the shin, turned and sprinted after Fendwyri, snapped, “No more!” She passed the older boy who, once he thought he was out of their reach had slowed down to a jog. Now he exclaimed and tried to speak an enablement over her, so she spun, swept his feet out from under him and sprinted into the Canis Abbey proper, barely out of breath. She skipped to a halt, then strode to the front, plopped down on the bench then lifted her eyes to contemplate the slowly turning obsidian sphere hanging from the Abbey’s vaulted ceiling. No one noticed her because as she sat, Andre and Fendwyri came in.

The whispers started at the back of the nave and swept forward. Zoe ignored them until the older boy abruptly appeared next to her. She didn’t know if he enabled the floor to carry him faster than he could walk, but it didn’t matter as, glaring down at her, he whispered, “That’s the last time...”

The air around them grew cold and squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she only assumed her breath exhaled in a white cloud. A booming voice said, “All students will be seated and silent during meditations.” It was a standard warning. The University surveillance system could easily have generated it. However, it would not have added, “Masters Wader and Xavier and Mister Jefferson will please report to the commissariat following meditations.”

There was a faint rustle – though with the building now all ears no one dared actually speak – as everyone moved at the same time. Zoe kept her eyes closed as someone passed in front of her and sat down and someone dropped down next to her on her other side. She opened her eyes, but focused on the sphere instead of trying to look left or right.

The knees on either side of her gave them away as the colors were obviously Wader Green and Xavier Sable. Her own colors were Poor Girl Whatever. Instead of fear though, anger welled inside of her. What right did these two boys have placing her in between their familial feud? What right did either of them presume that she would be on “their” side in an arguments. Fendwyri was nice enough to her when they were alone. She considered Andre a good friend.

Her real enemy lived up the hall from her in the women’s dorm – Semolina Nyanchi Fieldthwaite. The girl with the amazing hair and the attitude to willingly flaunt it. The source of her control over enabling the growth of anything from snowflakes to Tower Trees, she was also a member of a family that had once shared the power of filling the Vacancy.

Now she just annoyed Raven and constantly made snide remarks. She tried focusing on the sphere again, finally and slowly calming her turbulent head games, when a cry went up from outside, “Syzhin devils!”

The assembly leaped to its feet as the land raid siren began its mournful wail, echoing even to the depths of the University; everyone rushing to defend the battlements against the scourge of the world.

Names: ♀ Popular African American name, Australian Capital Territory, Common African American last name; ♂ Popular American name, Brazil

Image: http://www.skyscrapernews.com/images/pics/6255CaernarfonCastle_pic1.jpg

POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAYS: Why STAR TREK Can No Longer Inspire the Future

NOT using the panel discussions of the most recent World Science Fiction Convention in Dublin, Ireland in August 2019 (to which I be unable to go (until I retire from education)), I would jump off, jump on, rail against, and shamelessly agree with the BRIEF DESCRIPTION given in the pdf copy of the Program Guide. But not today. This explanation is reserved for when I dash “off topic”, sometimes reviewing movies, sometimes reviewing books, and other times taking up the spirit of a blog an old friend of mine used to keep called THE RANTING ROOM…

The Reverend Martin Luther King, Junior, his wife, and children would have never watched STAR TREK in today’s world.

That’s because ALL TREK is now hidden behind a pay wall and no longer broadcast (note the first five letters, they’re significant here.) On BROADcast TV, anyone, anywhere – whether walking down a street and seeing a TV in a window, an airport, a bus station, even on a cell phone – can catch an episode.

Add the fact that NO TEENAGER WILL EVER BOTHER TO WATCH STAR TREK, because the “newest” series is targeted at the old men (and a Caucasian old white guy) who used to watch Star Trek, can afford to pay for CBS All Access (which primarily runs old TV shows…), and have lots of time on their hands. In addition, most teens have enough angst in their lives – watching an elderly man whine and regret his stupid decisions…where exactly is anyone “boldly going”?

Roddenberry’s dream of  a “‘Wagon Train to the Stars’…Roddenberry wanted to tell more sophisticated stories, using futuristic situations as analogies for current problems on Earth and showing how they could be rectified through humanism and optimism,” has totally died.

In Star Trek: Discovery, the Federation is embroiled in a some sort of, admittedly Modern, attitude of hands-off, the rest of the world can just go its own way. We have our OWN bipolar society to deal with...our own entitlements and privileges to protect. So I suppose its a reflection of reality in the way ST:TOS was...it's just it doesn't offer any solutions, or even serious reflection.

The “new” Star Trek, instead of “boldly going” has the stated purposed of being “…the beginning of a wider expansion of the Star Trek franchise by CBS and Kurtzman, leading to multiple other series being produced…” has become exactly what the society that produced it is -- self-centered, petty, and unable to do anything because there's no one around to inspire it any more. Partisan politics make assumptions that "the RIGHT party speaks for America", when in fact...well, you watch the news. The "new" TREK is exactly what we have -- and doesn't bother to look at what we might be...

It makes me feel old when the mission of Star Trek has morphed from “‘Wagon Train to the Stars’ [THAT series original premise: The series chronicles the adventures of a wagon train as it makes its way…across the Mid-Western plains and the Rocky Mountains…and the trials and tribulations of the series regulars who conducted the train…GR [wanted to] tell more sophisticated stories, using futuristic situations as analogies for current problems on Earth and showing how they could be rectified…” to self-flagellation and non-morality lessons, reassuring itself that the future is bleak and there's nothing anyone can do about it, so you might as well just get more TV in your life...

In other words, Star Trek was about MOVEMENT. I do not impugn Stewart’s desire to do something totally different in ST:P, he doesn’t want to disappear into a role he can’t escape from. BUT…the intent had been for ST to move into the future BOLDLY, not reflect on opportunities lost. Certainly not to lock out underrepresented populations!

Star Trek introduced “…interracial casting…the first American live-action series to do this…an African woman, a Scotsman, an Asian man [who WAS gay and later movies moved the image forward]…an alien [a half-breed…hat-tip to American-Korean babies?]…[and] a Russian…giving women jobs of respect…Black actresses at that time on television were almost always cast as servants…Whoopi Goldberg recalled that the first time she saw Uhura, she excitedly told her mother: "Mama, there's a black woman on television and she ain't no maid!’ In an interview, Nichelle Nichols…was told there was a big fan who wanted to meet her…Dr. Martin Luther King…said, ‘I am your greatest fan.’…Star Trek was the only show that [they] would allow their three little children to stay up and watch. [She told King about her plans to leave the series.]…he said, ‘You can’t. You're part of history.’”

As well: “King explained that her character signified a future of greater racial harmony and cooperation. King told Nichols, ‘You are our image of where we're going, you're 300 years from now, and that means that's where we are and it takes place now. Keep doing what you're doing, you are our inspiration.’…‘he said, “Don't you understand for the first time we're seen as we should be seen. You don't have a black role. You have an equal role.”’”

The new, navel-gazing, cash-cow TREK is no longer going anywhere, and the only thing it’s doing is boldly raking in cash and excluding the people it should be inspiring…

FOR A RESPONSE TO MY ESSAY, ERIC DONTIGNEY HAS SOME SHARP COMMENTARY! (Read it here: https://ericdontigney.com/blog/the-once-and-future-star-trek/)

                                                            

Resources: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_influence_of_Star_Trek, https://www.nasa.gov/topics/technology/features/star_trek.html, https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/31876/12-star-trek-gadgets-now-exist, https://qz.com/766831/star-trek-real-life-technology/, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Discovery, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wagon_Train, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Picard, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Luther_King_Jr.

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/vde-Gi-XaqY/maxresdefault.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 443

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.

SF Trope: “Neil Stephenson's The Diamond Age features a very well justified abundance of airships. With ubiquitous nano-tech it's so simple to create objects that are lighter than air but stronger than steel…As to the airships, when you can create these materials you don't have to fill the envelope with anything at all. Vacuum is lighter than everything and thanks to nanopumps cheap to create.” (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ZeppelinsFromAnotherWorld)

Current Event: http://www.cnbc.com/2016/03/10/this-airship-transports-lockheed-into-new-territory.html

Napuc Chi shook his head as he said, “You will never get me next to that window!”

Anibal Tecú sighed. “If you’re afraid of heights, why did you volunteer for the survey? You knew we’d be using the Zac Petén.”

He paused, pursed his lips. Anibal got the impression there was something else he wanted to say – maybe about his fears…but he said, “It’s the only way I could investigate the alien presence…”

Anibal sighed dramatically. “This is an ecological survey…” she began.

“I know what it is!” Napuc snapped. “But I have interests besides creating gene maps of coati migration over the past millennia!”

Anibal held up both hands and stepped back. “Hey! No biting heads off! Sorry…”

Napuc closed his eyes, pressing his thumbs into his temples, arms akimbo. Anibal was abruptly reminded of the Jaguar God of the Underworld. Napuc muttered, “Sorry. Sorry…”

“What’s wrong? It’s gotta be more than just getting a boring job.”

“It’s not the job,” he smiled weakly, “though I could think of a few other things to be looking for besides troops of coatis.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. He winced, then turned from the window. “I need to get my scanners ready.”

She watched him go, then turned back to the window. The Zac Petén swung lower over the Yucatan Peninsula. In the distance, hidden by jungle and itself little more than a large city, squatted Chicxulub, the town that had given its name to the prehistoric crater scar left by the impact of an object that had sealed the extinction of the dinosaurs. She frowned momentarily, looked over her shoulder at her departed lab partner and friend, then looked back out. The zeppelin was moving steadily, yet there was no obvious motion. As a second generation lighter-than-aircraft, it’s stability and economical operation made it the first choice of many scientific expeditions.

But there were people who’d rather walk than fly, and she’d been surprised when Napuc had volunteered to come along. They drifted over a dark blue dot of water that vanished at the bottom of a ubiquitous cenote. The sinkholes clustered in the trough formed by the crater impact rings. She straightened and went back inside. “Napuc?” His voice came faintly up a ladder access to the deck below. She slid down and dropped lightly to her feet. When he turned to look at her, the device he was holding was clearly not a bio-sign detector. Her first thought was that it was a futuristic ray gun and that he was going to disintegrate her. Then she frowned. “What are you trying to do with that thing?”

He pursed his lips, raised the flat circular muzzle, and said, “I’m looking for an alien.”

Names: ♀ Modern Maya ; ♂ Modern Maya        

Image:

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/01/Ariane5_VA221_liftoff2.jpg/220px-Ariane5_VA221_liftoff2.jpg

Slice of PIE: Creating Alien Aliens, Part 4: Speculative Biology – An Evolving Field

Using the Program Guide of the World Science Fiction Convention in Dublin, Ireland in August 2019 (to which I will be unable to go (until I retire from education)), I will jump off, jump on, rail against, and shamelessly agree with the BRIEF DESCRIPTION given in the pdf copy of the Program Guide. The link is provided below where this appeared at 7 pm on Friday the 16th…

Creating Alien Aliens:

Part 1: https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2020/01/slice-of-pie-creating-alien-aliens.html

Part 2: https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2020/02/slice-of-pie-creating-alien-aliens-part.html

Part 3:  https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2020/02/slice-of-pie-creating-alien-aliens.html

Speculative Biology: An introduction to the art and field of speculative biology (aka speculative evolution). Panelists addressed three questions, focusing on how we make the relevant plants and animals scientifically plausible:

• What is the future of life on Earth?
• How might life on Earth have turned out differently if events had occurred differently?
• What could life on other planets be like?

Mick Schubert: writer, editor, and science consultant for Marvel Comics; works in paleontology and evolution, genetics, biochemistry, and molecular biology

Dr Helen Pennington: Moderator, DEFRA, Plant Health Evidence and Analysis, grafts cacti together in her free time

S. Spencer Baker: (He’s dead…three years prior to this event…or he time traveled into the future or something, apparently he believes he’s clever and funny or something…) I don’t understand any of this, so we’ll just leave it at that.

Dr V Anne Smith: Computational biologist, A Code For Carolyn: A Genomic Thriller

Adrian Tchaikovsky: Author, loved his work in his novel CHILDREN OF TIME, UK author with over 20 novels. Worked in law, studied zoology, psychology

Dr Bob: A Civil Servant…

While this was a fascinating discussion and I would have loved being there, I want to look at where this subject is leading me.

My current work-in-progress (wip) and a couple I just finished deal specifically with speculative biology. The wip concerns the Milky Way if there are only two sapient people – Humans (which we know about) and the WheetAH, plantimal aliens who are described as “short, needle-less, barrel cactus-shape” and card-carrying members of the Plant Kingdom (having evolved from Euglena-like, Volvox-like, pea aphid-like, green sea slug-like, spotted salamander-like organisms). Obviously, they also have vastly different ways of viewing the universe. I call this the WheetAh-Human Universe.

A story I just finished will eventually have Humans joining (as provisional sapients, currently!) a Unity of Sapients. Some of the aliens I’ve invented: “*ting* – planet bound, crystalline lifeform that communicates by phased radio pulses.”; “Benkaithanintanis – a space-living, asteroid-sized intelligence”; “Field-of-Dreams – a semi-autonomous intelligent plant/amoeba that occupies thousands of hectares on its home world and colonies. It communicates through chemically induced dreams.”; “Kifush – they’re some sort of disconnected intelligence, ‘system non-integrated colonial arthropod’. A monstrous pill bug holding the leashes of smaller pill bugs of various sizes.”; “Leviathan – ocean-going “eel” that communicates entirely by taste.”; “Pak/Gref – primate-descended mobile, sensory/cognition invasive Gref “units” of a massive ocean-born “worm”, the Pak.”; “Ybraith – neon Nautiluses suspended from balloons”; and the “Zham Woyi – Queen mother is giant sea star with square limbs studded with crystalline prisms that refracted light and trailing a parachute, made of lead and leaded crystal.”

I haven’t worked out all of the biology yet (I have it for the Pak/Gref and the Benkaithanintanis), but I’ve got several of them sketched out.

The last is Confluence versus Empire (currently confined to exploring one planet, a puffy Jupiter called River. I sometimes refer to this as the River Universe.) Here, there are no aliens, but Humans split into to factions that coalesced into civilizations. In the Confluence of Humanity, genetic engineering is practiced to the edges of possibility. ANYTHING is legal and manipulation of the Human genome has created people capable of living anywhere.

The Empire of Man has laws that all boil down to one essential paradigm – anyone who is less than sixty-five percent Original Human DNA is “not human” and without rights. Time has eroded the sharpest edges of that law. People who are slightly less than 65% can get an education, own property, and have a few other civil rights, but in essence, they are not truly Human. The Imperial Family maintains its Original Human DNA at 95%. DNA stored from the early 21^st Century is the Imperial Standard (some modifications for health and life extension purposes are permitted.)

So, those are the three Universes I write in. All three have challenges and are fun to work in. I’ve had stories from all three published at one time or another, so my work is at least somewhat believable.

Of the participants above, the only I’ve read is Adrian Tchaikovsky. His CHILDREN OF TIME is an absolute stunning read! Otherwise, he writes fantasy (which is fine, but in most cases, not my cup of tea). The world-building in the first book is amazing and the concepts staggering!

One last thing, in creating alien aliens, I’m not sure I ONLY mean aliens who are obvious. In my reading, I’ve found that changing a single paradigm, you end up with people who are, by all appearances and most behavior, entirely Human. However, their underlying beliefs and behaviors are as alien to me as say, James Cambias’ lobster-like, intelligent Ilmatarans. Mile Vorkosigan’s world appears “normal” to us, but the underlying assumption, that children produced via something called a “uterine replicator” are totally normal…and makes for alien (and entertaining!) thinking.

Program Book: https://dublin2019.com/whats-on/programming/programme-schedule/

Image: https://overmental.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/clone-troopers.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 442

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.

H Trope: Halloween horrors

Current Event: http://www.examiner.com/article/a-halloween-real-life-horror-story-about-a-real-life-monster

It’s All Hallows Eve – or Hallowe’en – in Minneapolis, inside the city, not far from a park, though EVERY place in Minneapolis is not far from a park.

On the city’s north side, there’s a doctor’s clinic; it bears the stamp of approval of Planned Parenthood, most of the insurance companies operating in the state – and recently had a new addition put on.

Kehlanna McGee is a young graduate of the Minneapolis Community and Technical College with a new degree in nursing – she just turned ninetnne. She’s a voracious reader and takes on the night shifts at every clinic and hospital she’s ever worked in because it gives her more time to READ. She recently bought the collected works of Stephen King and has entertained the idea that now that he’s dead, she might like to take over his spot! With a couple of publications in small emagazines, she spends what time she’s not working or reading…writing.

Trayvon Dehvahn is also a nursing school graduate, but he’s got med school in him plans. In particular, he’s really interested in cloning and biotechnology. He’s a reader, too, but has been working his way through the classics like DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE, FRANKENSTEIN, DRACULA, THE TELL-TALE HEART AND OTHER WRITINGS, SOMEETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES and the host of others.

When the new addition opens, they both get a job there and taking the training, both choose the new night shift in the ER. That’s where they meet the doctor who usually works that shift, Dr. Edgar B. Stevenson. He’s quiet, efficient – but when Trayvon and Kehlanna – who’ve started talking and seeing each other after work in the morning – start to notice that virtually all of the women who come to the clinic for abortions have one at 24 weeks, they wonder about it.

One night, a woman who is obviously farther along than 24 weeks comes in. Trayvon later enters the absurdly inaccurate records and talks to Kehlanna. They return to the clinic during the regular day shift and take an elevator down to Dr. Stevenson’s office and surgery. There, they discover a room. From the room, they hear noises. Noises that sound like voices. Voices crying out, not as infants cry, but as children cry out to be set free…

                                             

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-arXKTiwzTybeiZ-IjR8P9j_aP2vqKXJulRCqqk_e42EoyXriDrQffp-dV_b96wQqLf5Y-M9XYpYkS4Lpz0PJvQcjGfHXS3M8QSPWCq9l9UURqlah0AR2TAlNeS4yX_NR2arOLIZVuY/s1600/2212_1025142570.jpg

POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY: STAR TREK and Alzheimer’s Disease

Dad’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s stayed hidden from everyone until I took over the medical administration of my parents in 2015. Once I found out, there was a deafening silence from most of the people I know even though virtually all of them would add, “My _____ had Alzheimer’s…” But there was little help, little beyond people sadly shaking heads. Or horror stories. Lots of those. Even the ones who knew about the disease seemed to have received a gag order from some Central Alzheimer’s Command and did little more than mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started this part of my blog…

On another blog I keep, I complained that while science fiction dealt with all kinds of disabilities, few I’d run across dealt with dementia, or Alzheimer’s in specific. I found some, as I reviewed here: https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2018/06/possibly-irritating-essay-no-futures.html

I was shocked then as my wife and I were re-watching the last season of STAR TREK: Deep Space Nine. Broadcast at the close of the 20^th Century, when we were just beginning to feel the effects of dementia and Alzheimer’s (Dad was diagnosed in 2014 and died in 2019 of complications stemming from Alzheimer’s.)

Alzheimer’s was identified 120 years ago and since then has moved from an obscure condition including “…memory loss, paranoia, and psychological changes. Dr. Alzheimer noted in the autopsy that there was shrinkage in and around nerve cells in her brain.”

At the turn of the century, Alzheimer’s and other dementias didn’t even make the “Top Ten” list of global causes of death. Nineteen years later, it has skyrocketed to the sixth most common cause of death among humans, though in 2017, it was the FOURTH most common cause of death on Earth. In 2019, it was the 6^th most common cause of death in the US, topped by heart disease at #1.

So, you’d think it would engender quite a bit more fiction than it does; and in the field of speculative fiction, you’d think it would be a gold mine of story ideas.

It’s not.

In fact, just like in the real world, it seems like no one wants to talk about it at all. Of course, I did – twenty years ago in ANALOG Science Fiction and Fact. The June 2000 issue carried my story “A Pig Tale” in which a researcher illicitly used a drug designed to treat Alzheimer’s to “rewrite” her father’s memory, erasing his suicide attempt. You can read it here: http://theworkandworksheetsofguystewart.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-pig-tale-june-2000-analog-science.html

At any rate, in the ST:DS9 episode, “Once More Unto the Breach”, a Klingon with dementia – and a glorious reputation from the past – wants to die in glory. Commander Worf, an old friend of his, arranges a place for him on a dangerous mission. “Klingon Kor is growing old and senile, and asks Worf for one last chance to die in battle. Worf uses his sway to get him on a ship, and though he initially he is humiliated, he eventually gets his warrior's death.”

While the cause of his loss of memory is laid on “senility”, it’s more than that. Just watch the episode – Kor is not only forgetting things, he’s paranoid as well as reliving the past as if it’s the present. It’s this aspect of his Alzheimer’s that nearly kills everyone.

Dad’s retreat into the past never endangered anyone’s lives, though his denial that he was starting to get confused when driving – and a harrowing turn across five lanes of traffic – might easily have killed people besides himself. That retreat caused constant problems for us and led to embarrassing revelations of his past. This manifested itself several times for me when he became convinced that my mom had left him because of imagined (recalled?) marital indiscretions. That happened far more often than I wanted to count.

How WOULD a disease like Alzheimer’s manifests itself in sapient beings other than Human? How might they be treated? Would a cure for one be a cure for another? What if other sapient civilizations practiced “senicide”? STAR TREK: The Next Generation dealt with this issue in the episode “Half A Life” in which a man in his “prime” is culturally required to end his life. The troubled Lwaxana Troi tries to convince him to live; an offer he eventually and regretfully refuses.

I’m always on the look out for stories that deal with senescence, Alzheimer’s, and dementia. If you know of any others, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll continue my search to cross post here and on my regular blog!

Resource: https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Once_More_Unto_the_Breach_(episode), https://www.alzheimers.net/history-of-alzheimers/, https://ourworldindata.org/causes-of-death, https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/the-top-10-causes-of-death, https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/lists/star-trek-deep-space-nine-930878/item/once-more-breach-star-trek-926160, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senicide

Image:  https://static.tvmaze.com/uploads/images/large_landscape/188/470693.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 441

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. Regarding Fantasy, this insight was startling: “I see the fantasy genre as an ever-shifting metaphor for life in this world, an innocuous medium that allows the author to examine difficult, even controversial, subjects with impunity. Honor, religion, politics, nobility, integrity, greed—we’ve an endless list of ideals to be dissected and explored. And maybe learned from.” – Melissa McPhail.

F Trope: “When wizards are immortal, they don’t need to train successors, and my not be able to…”

Current Event: http://www.rsc.org/chemistryworld/2013/07/pipeline-knowledge-lost-time-gained

Sidaji the Immortal pursed his lips, glaring down at the bucket of swamp water, tapping the edge. His fingers strayed to the runic marks inscribed on the sides. He stared for some time before looking up and saying, “You are Luca Růžička.”

Luca sighed and tugged on his soaking wet jeans. His black Converses squelched on his feet and he scratched at a mosquito bite on his forehead.

Ranghild Peeters, the beautiful and incredibly annoying second apprentice said, “You’re not supposed to pick at pimples. I’ve got a skin cleanser...” She stepped a bit away from him as the smell of Okefenokee swamp drifted up from the water leaking from Luca’s tennis shoes and dribbling on the Persian rug.

Luca snapped, “It’s a mosquito bite.”

“Yeah, right,” said Ranghild.

“You try sloshing around in a swamp to get a bucket of ‘water clear of duckweed, water clear of waste’ and see how long you can keep the mosquitoes from eating you alive!”

Sidaji looked at her and said, “You are Ranghild Peeters.”

She blew her startlingly raven black bangs up her forehead and said, “Yes, Immortal One. Now, can we get on with the transformation. I’ve got things I have to do today.”

Luca muttered, “Like flirt with every guy in Minneapolis?”

Ranghild shook her head, “We’re broken up. Get over it.”

“I didn’t break anything up. You dumped me.”

“Only because you’re being such a...”

Sidaji the Immortal straightened up, lifted his arms and thundered, “Silence!” The thunder was literal as the windows of the mansion they were living in on Mt. Curve Avenue overlooking Lowry Park shook in their frames. Only Luca and Ranghild’s unity spells kept them from shattering. Across the street in the park, an autumn flock of common egrets took wing, rising up in a cloud of white stark against the golds, reds, oranges, and browns of the pond.

The wizard looked down on them, having swelled to twice his usual height. The floor beneath him creaked as he stepped toward them, saying, “þearf sy  forþsetennes héafodcwide manian gescaep lifiendee!”*

They looked at each other, shrugged, and Ranghild said, “Your Immortal Greatness, we are currently in the early part of the 21^st Century. I’m not sure shouting in Old English will accomplish anything. Especially as neither one of us can understand it. You enchanted us with this century’s English vocabulary.”

Sidaji stared at her, blinked, then said, “I seem to be having some trouble remembering things today.” The wizard’s apprentices both stepped back in unison, finding that the grand piano behind them blocked their retreat. Sidaji laughed, rattling the chandelier in the entryway.

“You’re immortal!” Luca exclaimed.

“What do you mean you’re having trouble remembering?” Ranghild exclaimed.

Sidaji pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing heavily tattooed forearms. His hands were blunt – the hands of a farmhand rather than a dandified city boy – and his nails, while clean and trimmed, the nails of a man who had worked for his livelihood. He looked at his hands, studying them for a moment. Then he looked at his apprentices. He smiled and said, “My body is immortal, child. There was never any guarantee that my memories would be immortal as well.”

They looked at each other and Sidaji laughed again. “What are you laughing at?” Luca said.

“The two of you are acting like you’re in a movie. Are you really that much in love that you can’t think independently?”

Both of them, temporarily frozen in age as teenagers and prone to forget that they had actually been born in 11^th Century Denmark and the Kingdom of Bohemia, were neither teenagers nor Americans and effectively his slaves – blushed furiously. Sidaji waved them away, remembering at the last moment to disempower the gesture, said, “That doesn’t seem to help me remember how to turn this swamp water into botulism infected water.” He looked at them and added, “Why are we going to poison the water supply of Minneapolis?”

Names: ♀ Denmark, Belgium ; ♂ Austria, Czechoslovakian

Translation: (From Old English – http://www.oldenglishtranslator.co.uk/) “There is far more of import here than your mortal sex lives!”

Image: http://www.skyscrapernews.com/images/pics/6255CaernarfonCastle_pic1.jpg

WRITING ADVICE: Can This Story Be SAVED? #25 “Lovely To Behold” (Submitted 4 Times Since 2017, Revised So Many Times It’s Become A HUGE Muddle!)

In September of 2007, I started this blog with a bit of writing advice. A little over a year later, I discovered how little I knew about writing after hearing children’s writer, In April of 2014, I figured I’d gotten enough publications that I could share some of the things I did “right”. I’ll keep that up, but I’m running out of pro-published stories. I don’t write full-time, nor do I make enough money with my writing to live off of it, but someone pays for and publishes ten percent of what I write. Hemingway’s quote above will remain unchanged as I work to increase my writing output and sales, but I’m adding this new series of posts because I want to carefully look at what I’ve done WRONG and see if I can fix it. As always, your comments are welcome!

ANALOG Tag Line:

First Contact is usually something you expect, but when it sneaks up behind you, the only person who can deal with it is the person who is RIGHT THERE…no matter how inexperienced they are.

Elevator Pitch (What Did I Think I Was Trying To Say?)

[I originally wrote this story that Julie Czerneda put a call out for after giving permission to write in the world she’d created. The Trade Pact universe held PLEXIS SUPERMARKET, a freewheeling, capitalistic market that was buried in an asteroid traveling through space. On Plexis, anything could happen…] Truth be told, I’m absolutely certain I had no idea what I wanted to say…it was just supposed to be fun playing there!

Opening Line:

[I wrote two versions of this story, one took place on Plexis. When the story didn’t pass muster, I repurposed it to fit my River universe.]

PLEXIS:

“I find it highly suspect that a new information merchant should set up shop and that a Sakissishee starship should dock at Plexis Supermarket in the same week,” said Inspector Krrsen.

RIVER:

“I am dying here.”

Onward:

PLEXIS:

He looked up at the two young beings standing at rigid attention before him. Constables Human Russell Terk and Tolian P’tr wit’Whix did not look well. He managed to keep a smirk from his eyes. “What do you think, Constable wit’Whix?”

The usually groomed plumage of the avioid being was clumped unattractively. He said,

“We have just returned from the restaurant stakeout, Inspector, Sir.”

“I understand, your partner attempted to pass you off as an entrée?”

The Human’s face and ears darkened to an attractive red as he said, “We felt it was the only way for us to get into the hideout, Inspector!”

“It was your idea,” ‘Whix clicked his beak in irritation. The feathers at his neck fluttered as he said, “I wish to transfer off of Plexis.”

Krrsen nodded, rumbling with a Turrned giggle. The two youngsters had no idea he was struggling not to laugh out loud. He let their wide-eyed terror at the sound stew a moment then fixed them with a hard gaze from large, fist-sized, warm brown eyes, and said, “I’ll take your request under consideration, constable ‘Whix. Until then, the two of you will take the Education Market beat.”

RIVER:

No matter how hard I try, I will never understand math, if I don’t math, I don’t go to university, and if I don’t go to university, I’ll never get out of here and I’ll die,” Iggie whispered into his headphone. “I need help.”

“You won’t die. I can help you…” Agnew said.

“I need real help, Sausage-Butt. I have to change my brain,” he spoke slowly, like Agnew was an idiot. Agnew was his brother and pretty much his only friend, he was also an employee, technically his property, and a giant pain-in-the-ass.

Keeping with the last, Agnew said, “Don’t. Do. Nootropics.”

“I’ve decided on an electronic memory stimulator. That’s all I need to pass the stupid test.”

Agnew made a noise garbled by the earphone as he said, “How long can you lie about yourself until you start to believe it, Ignoramus?” He hung up.

What Was I Trying To Say?

In the PLEXIS story, I was having fun exploring some characters I really liked who didn’t get a lot of story time. As for a message? Hmmm. If pressed, I’d say that it was a mystery about how we always try to find an easy way to get what we want. In this story, it was about a shop that supplied illegal enhancements to allow for a pilot’s implant to be placed. It was usually an expensive, lengthy procedure. This supplier also found out that there was an unforeseen consequence when meddling with a novel alien people.

For RIVER, I have no aliens, just genetically modified Humans. The modifications run the gamut from simple to bizarre. Here, as above, I have a character who’s trying to cheat the system to get into a top-rank college (does this story sound familiar? https://boston.cbslocal.com/2020/04/02/lori-loughlin-college-admissions-scam-dismiss-charges/?fbclid=IwAR3A6oAab7lm6oBRurd-PLBRr9i_whExRoFLuok-0OmYO4N0-COOURCdei4 At the time it WASN’T!) His best friend urges him to just do the work and don’t do drugs.

The Rest of the Story:

PLEXIS: Using unorthodox methods, the main characters trace novel DNA to a new alien species. They discover that it is unlike anything they’d ever encountered – two genders; one mammalian, one reptilian; each carried half the DNA needed to procreate, but they also carried two halves of one brain that would become part of an adult. Alien antagonists interfere, causing one of the genders to become sexually mature. This creates a biologically mature individual who had only “half of a brain” without the balanced DNA a normal union would create. The “cops” of the story kill it and they meet the being the union of two halves SHOULD produce, a being named Lovely To Behold.

RIVER: Similar to the story above, but the “alien” is simply Human who was so profoundly manipulated, it’s effectively another species. The brain-joining and the rest also happen. The main character is remanded into the care of one of the Completed Humans and promises to teach him how to use his real brain and quit trying to cheat.

End Analysis:

Both end the same way, but the RIVER story is more personal…except that instead of making it about my own personal struggles, it’s so nebulous as conclude without having any effect on the reader. Even me…in rewriting the story, “May They Rest”, I suddenly found its heart and ended up tearing up a couple of times because the story had become personal.

This one got so muddled in both iterations that it was meaningless. I hate meaningless stories.

Can This Story Be Saved?

PLEXIS was written for a particular anthology that has since been published.

RIVER…I think the biggest problem is that the story has virtually no focus. I wrote both before I read Lisa Cron’s book WIRED FOR STORY, so it’s more in keeping with my writing skills before I started to work at changing them.

That being said, I like the characters and the story, but it’s so rambling and jargon heavy, I can’t seem to get my ideas across. Again, I can’t even tell you CLEARLY what I was trying to say. “Don’t do drugs!” is certainly one of the messages, but that’s so prosaic as to be meaningless. What DO I want to say? Until I figure it out, the story can’t be saved. Once I do? That’s a different story!

Image: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9f/22/3b/9f223b1e57a36e14db3eb13715fbe3f9.jpg