IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 371

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: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Transhuman

Current Event: “While natural evolution has its limits, it has perfected its designs over millions of years while artificial, human-induced evolution would occur much quicker. Any useful augmentations without apparent drawbacks would soon be extremely commonplace, potentially creating a disastrous outcome for the entire species if a critical flaw is suddenly discovered.”

Ji-woo Changkoachai shook her head, floating away from the bulkhead of High Perth. She’d surrendered to the fashion on the space station months ago, so she no longer looked like an animated whirlwind. Instead, her hair was as short as it could be to both define her sense of femininity and stay out of her mouth. She didn’t notice at the moment. She said, “Nature made changes slowly to see if there were any hidden traps in altered genetic code…”

Praset Oh rolled his eyes. He’d oriented himself so that he was at ninety-degrees from her perceived vertical. He did it when he wanted to disconcert people.

She ignored him, saying, “By making the leap you and your crazy team is planning…”

He lifted both hands, managing to be both placating and obscene at the same time. He said, “Remember, Dr. Changkoachai, all ideas have a safe hearing in this…”

Her gesture was unambiguous. “That’s recycled trash, Engineer Oh. Your self-righteous, passive-aggressive pandering stopped working on me two months ago when I saw you visegrip the Appropriations Committee into giving you what they’d already refused, by doing an artistic job of guilting them. But I have no morality, Oh. I don’t think there’s any reason to feel guilt. I can, however level rational judgement against procedures that would lead to disaster for the entire of Humanity.”

“That is absolutely true, Doctor. That you…”

“‘…equate yourself with Humanity,’” she laughed at him. “Saw you coming from three orbits away, Oh. You hate that you’ve met your match.” His condescending demeanor cracked for an instant with an irritated crinkle of the skin between his eyes and a thinning of his lips. He reoriented himself to face her, took a breath and opened his mouth, his finger coming up in his signature lecture pose. She cut him off, “You’re not talking about tweaking the Human genome, Oh. You’re talking about making a robot then integrating Human cell structures and re-designed organs into it.” She snorted, “Besides, it’s already been done.”

“It has not…” his face was outraged embarrassment.

“In the imagination of late 20^th Century fiction writers of a television program invented the concept they called The Borg. You’ve done nothing new here, Oh. The 20^th Century primitives beat you to it!”

“They did nothing of the sort! I have developed…”

“They eventually imagined nanomachine modification of existing biological material,” she smirked, “in situ even.”

“Why you…”

She held up her hands, mimicking his previous gesture, “Now, now, Oh. Remember, colleague, all ideas have a safe hearing in this space.” She smiled as Oh opened his mouth to rant on, his face suffused in anger. “You’ll get what you want, Praset, and you’ll get your ‘borg’. But I predict they’ll turn on you before long.” She pushed herself free of his glare, and accelerated along the ring.

He didn’t think she heard, “But before they turn on me, Doctor, I’ll make sure they turn on you…” He actually laughed stereotypically.

Ji-woo muttered, “And I’ll be ready for them, idiot.”

Names: ♀ Korea, Thailand; ♂ Thailand, Korea    

Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/3,2,1_blast-off!_(15871161250).jpg/511px-3,2,1_blast-off!_(15871161250).jpg

WRITING ADVICE – Lisa Cron #3: Show Your Reader The BIG Picture!

In 2008, I discovered how little I knew about writing after hearing children’s writer, Lin Oliver speak at a convention hosted by the Minnesota Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. To learn more – and to satisfy my natural tendency to “teach stuff”, I started a series of essays taking the wisdom of published writers and then applying each “nugget of wisdom” to my own writing. During the six years that followed, I used the advice of a number of published writers (with their permission) and then applied the writing wisdom of Lin Oliver, Jack McDevitt, Nathan Bransford, Mike Duran, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, SL Veihl, Bruce Bethke, and Julie Czerneda to an analysis of my own writing. Together these people write in genres broad and deep, and have acted as agents, editors, publishers, columnists, and teachers. Today I add to that list, Lisa Cron who has worked as a literary agent, TV producer, and story consultant for Warner Brothers, the William Morris Agency, and others. She is a frequent speaker at writers’ conferences, and a story coach for writers, educators, and journalists. Again, I am using her article, “A Reader’s Manifesto: 15 Hardwired Expectations Every Reader Has for Every Story” (2/16/18 http://blog.creativelive.com/essential-storytelling-techniques/)

So we’ll continue with the third expectation a reader would have when they go to the STUPEFYING STORIES website, to read my most recent story there “Bogfather” (https://stupefyingstories.blogspot.com/2017/12/today-on-showcase.html) or dive into what I’m currently reading, ANOTHER MAN’S MOCCASINS, by Craig Johnson (https://www.amazon.com/Another-Mans-Moccasins-Longmire-Mystery/dp/0143115529):

3. “The reader expects a glimpse of the big picture…an idea where we’re going, why, and what’s at stake for the protagonist…[which] triggers the sense of urgency…allows us to make sense of what’s happening from beginning to end. John Irving [wrote]…: “Whenever possible, tell the entire story of the novel in the first sentence.”…What is the scope of my story? What journey will my reader take? Have I made it clear?...Be specific, be clear, don’t hold back…[giving them] a reason to care, a reason to be curious, and enough info to understand…the stakes...”

Craig Johnson has a bit of an advantage here. MOCCASINS is the fourth Longmire book, so we know a bit about the main character right from the start. One of the story lines in this book continues from the previous one as he works through physical therapy and the recovery of his daughter. Another storyline is new and initiated when his daughter says she’ll do “two more” if he tells her about one of the scars on his face. He agrees, and the second line of the story is introduced painlessly – Longmire’s tour of duty as (no surprise, actually!) a Marine CID investigator in Vietnam. (Well THAT explains a few things about him!)

But Johnson still has to deliver a powerful story, and the power of story, according to Cron, is that he introduce a hint at a broader story, what she calls the “big picture”. The character doesn’t exist in a vacuum, which is true of all real Humans. Every time I sit down to read a book or a story, I bring with me all of the baggage of my life – not just my political views or religious beliefs, but also how I feel about my kids, my job, and my life in general. Not ONLY how I feel on a particular day, but what parts of my life story are in the forefront of my mind or, as I prefer to think of it, “what’s on my heart”.

In MOCCASIN, he begins the story with this: “ ‘Two more.’ Cady looked at me but didn’t say anything. It had been like this for the last week.” Even if you hadn’t read the previous book, you know that from the get-go, there’s something happening and that this story is part of a larger tapestry. It’s a clear indication that the main character is alive and that there some sort of low level conflict.

My short story “Bogfather” begins: “Ozaawindib Erdrich stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Tommy Smoke scowled, then said, ‘Why is it here?’

‘Ozaawindib, who went by Win, snorted and said, ‘As well ask the wind why it blows.’”

‘Tommy looked at her and rolled his eyes. ‘That’s supposed to sound like Ojibwe chief wisdom?’”

“‘Nah, just a limnological observation, and as likely a good explanation as any.’”

It’s clear from the beginning that Win and Tommy have a long-term relationship in which they feel comfortable needling each other. There’s a bigger story here; bigger than the story we’re watching unfold.

While I really don’t want what I read for entertainment to mirror my real life – for example, I want the story to END, whether I’m reading JONATHAN STRANGE & MR. NORRELL by Susanna Clarke or O. Henry’s “Gift of the Magi” – I want to FEEL like it shouldn’t end, I want to FEEL like I lived the life in the story.

I think what Lisa Cron is trying to get me to do is to make each story feel like a slice of a character’s life. Even a novel, like Adrian Tchaikovsky’s CHILDREN OF TIME, despite the fact that it takes place over nearly two millennia and encompasses the virtual extinction of Humanity and the rise of another intelligent civilization, it is still only a slice of life. I never once see any of the main characters use a bathroom, I only see them rarely eat, and even though they have children, I never witness anything approaching intimacy. I do see how this fantastically broad sweep of time affects them all and I certainly feel their pain, their  victory, and their wonder.

Unlike other writers, however, she gives me specific clues about how to do that; which is exactly what I need at this point in my career as a writer.

Image: http://c8.alamy.com/comp/EEFHT4/snow-and-ice-sculpture-of-the-thinker-EEFHT4.jpg

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION: CHAPTER 92 The Trial of Team One – 4

On Earth, there are three Triads intending to integrate not only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and slaughter Humans and devastate their world; but to stop the war that consumes Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. All three intelligences hover on the edge of extinction. The merger of Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society might not only save all three – but become something not even they could predict. Something entirely new...

The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest primate tribe of Humans – Oscar and Xiomara; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote – six, pack leaders Qap and Xurf; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven, Dao-hi the Herd mother. On nursery farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two, warring people to reproduce and grow far from their home worlds.

“We had nearly fallen into stagnation when we encountered the Kiiote.”

“And we into internecine war when we encountered the Yown’Hoo.”

 “Yown’Hoo and Kiiote have been defending themselves for a thousand revolutions of our Sun.”

 “Together, we might do something none of us alone might have done…a destiny that included Yown’Hoo, Kiiote, and Human.” (2/19/2015)

Qap, pack leader of the Kiiote portion of the North American Triad eased back.

The female Pack who had led the ambush on the Triad as they’d exited the old Human fuel station, was falling into the cadence of more formal speech. The female had been speaking like a near-wild animal. She squirmed uncomfortably then said in a Submission tone, “I would stand, Pack Leader.”

Qap released the female and waited until the youngster rearranged her structure for upright locomotion. She lifted her chin and said, “I, too am Pack Leader. My name is Kang.” She stretched her neck, offering her throat.

Qap reached out, took a token scratch then said, “The Lieutenant sent us here. We did not expect to find you so easily.” Kang’s neck fur bristled and Qap touched it to smooth it. “We do not come to fight, Sister, but to ask for help.”

“Help? From us? We barely stay alive here.” In the snow, the three Human riders began to stir. “Sister, the Herd in these woods Hunt both Pack and Tribe for sport.”

Qap, Qilf, and Towt crouched into fighting stance, snarls escaping their muzzles. Qap said, “How is it that Pack and Herd hunt Humans? They are not worthy of the hunt. Kiiote and Yown’Hoo have a long-standing war, but Humans are…”

“I believe this as well, Sister…” there was a strong interrogative with a weak command in Kang’s reply.

Qap growled, then said, “Forgive, Sister. I am Pack leader Qap.”

“I am Pack Leader Qilf.”

Towt rolled onto its back and spoke upside down, “Neuter Towt.”

The Humans had recovered, as had the other Kiiote. It nodded, “Neuter Keert.”

The female Human raised her hand and said, “Cynthia Legatto.”

The male said, “Kobey Kamphasavanh.” His scent was doubt and anxiety. He didn’t trust them.

Qap addressed her remark to him, saying, “My favorite Human didn’t trust me at first, either.”

Kobey muttered a Human curse, then said, “How do you know I don’t trust you?”

“I was raised with two Human Tribe, Oscar and Xiomara. All of our Triad members are familiar with the habits and scents of each other.”

“Triad?” said the female Cynthia.

Qilf was the expert at Kiiote-Yown’Hoo-Human interaction and stepped forward at her fart of encouragement. He said, “We have been bred and raised together to be capable of building bridges between the Stupid, the mindless drones who war between themselves and continue to devastate the world that originally belonged to Humans.”

“Their fight is worthy!” Kang and Keert exclaimed. “All Yown’Hoo must die!”

“That subconscious programming has doomed out ancestors to an endless, unwinnable fight. The forces of the two balance almost perfectly and the only ones who have lost are the worlds upon which we waged out useless conflict. We must stop now. The Masters, Kiiote Leaders Pan and Zir; Ji-Hi who is Mother of All; and the Human Ally and Martyr, St. Admiral have created a plan that will bind Kiiote, Yown’Hoo, and Human together into a cord of three strands which will be unbreakable.”

The Kiiote snarled. Even the Humans crouched low to the ground, raising their crude spears. Kang said, “We would rather die than submit to the Yown’Hoo!”

Qap and Qilf bowed then. Qap said, “Then we will leave you to your suicide and wish you a better life with your next Pack.” She dropped to all fours as he Lead mate and the neuter followed suit. She crouched to spring and begin their long journey North to the rendezvous place. Her muscles bunched and she felt the adrenaline rush…

Kang howled, then barked, “What do you mean?”

Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/72/Rhll_wire_rope.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 370

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: Terracotta Army (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terracotta_Army Current Event:  https://www.chinaeducationaltours.com/guide/topic-terracotta-army-top-mysteries.htm “In the late years of the Qin Dynasty the country was in total upheaval. The legions of the capital garrison, which are the archetypes of the Terracotta Warriors, were disbanded. It is said that they joined other troops to chase and hunt General Xiang Yu, the supreme leader who led the conquest of the Qin capital. There are also rumors that the troops turned into the Terracotta Warriors. Of course, such superstitions are mentioned today just to add some mysterious charms to the terracotta figures.”

I know this is just a wiki, but this idea was inspired by a former student of mine who became a physics teacher and is currently teaching in China. He visited this site several weeks ago and has posted pictures on Facebook. His pictures of this army came up recently and though I couldn’t link directly to his Facebook, go to the Wiki article above…

It got me thinking – if there are some 8000 pieces (and about as many are still buried)…what if the mother of a teenager was working as part of an international team and uncovered something unusual (not that a standing army of 16,000 horses, soldiers, acrobats and various and sundry other “people” isn’t unusual enough!) What if she discovered a unique figure, say a woman who has been knocked down and is crying out in terror, with her arm upraised as a man draws back a spear and is obviously about to run her through…is there a curse on this piece that comes to haunt the teen and their mom? Or is it case for a forensic anthropologist (or would it be, more appropriately a forensic terracottaist) and was a MURDER involved which someone commemorated? Who did the commemorating, who was the perpetrator – and what if it had a connection to the present?

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

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 131: Stepan of Burroughs

On a well-settled Mars, the five major city Council regimes struggle to meld into a stable, working government. Embracing an official Unified Faith In Humanity, the Councils are teetering on the verge of pogrom directed against Christians, Molesters, Jews, Rapists, Buddhists, Murderers, Muslims, Thieves, Hindu, Embezzlers and Artificial Humans – anyone who threatens the official Faith and the consolidating power of the Councils. It makes good sense, right – get rid of religion and Human divisiveness on a societal level will disappear? An instrument of such a pogrom might just be a Roman holiday...To see the rest of the chapters, go to SCIENCE FICTION: Martian Holiday on the right and scroll to the bottom for the first story. If you’d like to read it from beginning to end 140,000+ words as of now), drop me a line and I’ll send you the unedited version.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” QuinnAH, the artificial boy disciple shouted from the foot of the stairs.

Stepan Izmaylova, preacher, estranged son of a Martian revolutionary, almost dropped the remains. “Language, please.” There was silence. He relented. “I found something,” he shouted down. “Something that’s gonna scare you.” The sound of Quinn’s pounding feet as he charged up the stairs like any other teenager confronted by mystery; stopped abruptly. “What…”

Stepan tilted the helmet back, shining the light into the cavity. QuinnAH squeaked. One foot still in the air as his mouth worked, but no sound came out. Stepan said softly, “I think we’ve found ourselves another alien.” He squeaked again. Stepan couldn’t help but smile.

QuinnAH came out of his freeze and shouted, “Why would you do that to someone?”

“I didn’t do anything to you that hadn’t happened to me.”

The boy opened his mouth to argue, then sighed. “Fair enough, Preach.” He paused. “But what now? That b-born pod left and I don’t think they’re coming back.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t belong here. They be on some sorta quest. They lookin’ for something and it…”

“I’m not your friends. You can speak regular English with me,” said Stepan, smiling a bit.

QuinnAH hung his head, “Sorry. I forget you’re not a normal person.”

Stepan laughed and stood up. Gently toeing the suit, he said, “We have to move this, probably bag it up, and send it to DaneelAH and his vatmates. They have the cetacean spacesuit now, and one of them has access to a Virtual Reality unit that fits it. I have no doubt that there are other artifacts scattered over Mars.” He pursed his lips then leaned down to QuinnAH, “And I think something big is brewing on Mars. Something that will change everything on the Red Planet.”

“You mean like what your god did to Earth?”

Stepan met his defiant gaze then slowly nodded, saying, “He did change Earth. But people grabbed what he said, twisted it and used it for personal gain.” He sighed. “It’s what Humans do as easily as breathing.”

Image: https://media.recovery.org/wp-content/uploads/recovery-shutter280148666-man-watching-sunrise-over-city-640x300.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 369

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.

OK – visiting a VERY old post…pair of posts…I thought I’d weave this together…

Trope: None, I hope!

Current Event: The Top Twelve YA Fantasy books (9/11/2018) https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=sr_st_review-rank?keywords=top+ten+YA+fantasy&rh=n%3A283155%2Ck%3Atop+ten+YA+fantasy&qid=1536701445&sort=review-rank (PS – three of them are OLD and not Rowling or Pullman)

 What do you see? Creepy kids (more often associated with horror, but…), an academy, magic, “the darkness”, skeleton, uncles, murdered parents, a wizard, and “dark” something…always associated with “fantasy”. TWO of them are OLD! Nevertheless, they all rest squarely in the realm of what we think of as “traditional fantasy”.

The thing is that most of these will be seeing the bottom bins of recycling containers everywhere in a few years while the CHRONICLES OF NARNIA, HARRY POTTER, OZ and a very few others will take their places in the annals of “classic children’s literature”.

CS Lewis said, “No man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring a tuppence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.” (MERE CHRISTIANITY, Ch 11, Book 4)

TANGENT!

Some of you may know that I spent eight months in Africa as the guest of the Nigerian, Cameroonian, and Liberian Lutheran Churches. If people aren’t impressed with my time there as a tool of the Church, they’re appalled by my white supremacist intention of crushing African traditions beneath my white supremacist assumptions of African savagery that needs to be saved from savagery…

Both responses make me feel ill and neither one grants the people of the Continent any power of self-determination – and are equally white supreme-ist.

OK – rant over. (I’m sure this little essay may possibly irritate some people…) So, I recently read THE BETRAYAL OF AFRICA (for a brief review, go here:  (http://www.africafiles.org/article.asp?ID=17923) follow this with an apparent non-sequitur, a few years ago, I read and recommended for an ANDRE NORTON Award, Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu’s second book, THE SHADOW SPEAKER (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shadow_Speaker). If you’ve never read it, do. If you haven’t, read both and then build a story on this foundation: a Library to rival the one at Alexandria is nearly done in the center of the Sahara in the Erg of Bilmah – and the dark forces of America: Jersey Devils, Yuma Skeletons, Wampus Cats, Bigfeet, Headless Horsemen, Mosquitoes, Trickster Coyotes, Maids in the Mist and Pecos Bill and his legions take on the legends of the Sahara: mummies, scorpions, Desert Rattlers, raging sandstorms, desert wolves and tigers…who wins and how…Now, throw in a hay bale (one of the round ones), a city park, a lamp made of used electrical conduit, circuit boxes and insulated wire and a girl who wants nothing to do with her magical family and everything to do with the wonder of electricity...create an outline for a really TRUE young adult/teen fantasy.

Write it!

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

WRITING ADVICE: What Went RIGHT #43…With “Fairy Bones” (Submitted 5 times with one revision, sold to CAST OF WONDERS, November 2015)

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, Lin Oliver speak at a convention hosted by the Minnesota Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Since then, I have shared (with their permission) and applied the writing wisdom of Lin Oliver, Jack McDevitt, Nathan Bransford, Mike Duran, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, SL Veihl, Bruce Bethke, and Julie Czerneda. Together they write in genres broad and deep, and have acted as agents, editors, publishers, columnists, and teachers. Since then, I figured I’ve got enough publications now that I can share some of the things I did “right” and I’m busy sharing that with you.

While I don’t write full-time, nor do I make enough money with my writing to live off of it...neither do all of the professional writers above...someone pays for and publishes ten percent of what I write. When I started this blog, that was NOT true, so I may have reached a point where my own advice is reasonably good. We shall see! Hemingway’s quote above will now remain unchanged as I work to increase my writing output and sales! As always, your comments are welcome!

This story started out as a story about me and where I live. So the first thing I did right was start with something familiar; to use the proper writer’s vernacular, I “wrote what I knew”.

Of course, I’d also been told never to write a story claiming “it’s true! I only changed the names!”…well, that doesn’t cut the cheese.

“…simply jotting down a transcript of a real event and inserting it into a novel may not work particularly well; all too often, a purely factual account will not provide the reader accustomed to fiction’s standards of world-depiction with sufficient information to be able to picture what the writer experienced…There’s a reason that perennial cry of the realistic writer — ‘But it really happened that way!’ — doesn’t particularly impress agents, editors, or contest judges, you know. With apologies to Aunt Virginia, no matter how true the facts, it’s the writer’s responsibility to make them seem true to the reader.” (Anne Mini)

Besides, there are no fairies in the marsh near my house. Cranes, fox, coyote, wood ducks, pheasant, bald eagles, red-tailed hawks – absolutely yes! Also, there’s no retirement community right next to the park reserve. At least not yet. But the rest of it? The weather, the owls and their pellets, the grandson (mine is only eight years old right now), and the science of checking meals of owls to ascertain the health of the populations of  both the predator and prey – though there are no stick pads to reconstruct skeletons on (who would bother?) – those are all real.

Combined, they created something I wrote about last week. They made a story that communicated a sense of wonder. There are LOTS of definitions of what constitutes a sense of wonder. Distilled down from a FEW sources I found:

“While science or fantasy or horror can be the vehicle, this is entirely a FEELING that comes from inside a READER [from stories that]…have something unreal about them…a feeling of awakening or awe triggered by an expansion of one’s awareness of what is possible or by confrontation with the vastness of space and time…‘conceptual breakthrough’ or ‘paradigm shift’…achieved through the recasting of…previous narrative experiences in a larger context…speculation rooted in reality…Any[0ne] who has looked up at the stars at night and thought about how far away they are, how there is no end or outer edge to this place, this universe—any[one] who has felt the thrill of fear and excitement at such thoughts…some widening of the mind’s horizons, not matter what direction…any new sensory experience, impossible to the reader in his own person, is…what the activity of science fiction is writing about…a position from which they can glimpse for themselves, with no further auctorial aid, a scheme of things where mankind is seen in a new perspective…”

Given this as a starting ground, both of my stories unconsciously did this. In the first, I had a group of Human teenagers spend several days with a group of WheeAh teenagers isolated on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean. Something bad happens and the group pulls together and “saves the day”.

In “Fairy Bones”, a cranky teenager shuffled between divorced parents ends up cooling his jets with grandmaw: a sentence to boredom, without a doubt. She isn’t any more thrilled about spending time with a moody adolescent, but just figures she’s got a job to do. He’s the one then who discovers what appears to be the skeleton that is NOT a mouse or anything else, but a HUMANOID. Together, grandmother and grandson begin to unravel what appears to be something the government even knows about! They draw together and end up appreciating each other – expanding both their knowledge of the UNIVERSE and of each other.

It may not have impressed editors whose usual markets diminish the importance of anyone younger than (say) 35 or 60…but COW bought it after suggesting a few things that sharpened both the focus of the story and the interaction between the boy and his grandmother. After incorporating the editor’s suggestions, the story was much stronger and they published it.

Takeaway: the sense of wonder is something I need to incorporate not only for COW stories, but also for all of my work. It is, after all, what science fiction is supposed to be about. I aimed it at this market and the wrote to editorial request.

This was a fun story and I have an idea for a sort of “sequel”. Working title is “Fairy Tones” about communicating with the fairies…

Resources: http://www.annemini.com/2013/01/25/capturing-the-distinctive-buzz-of-reality-22/

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

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION: CHAPTER 91 The Trial of Team Four - 3

On Earth, there are three Triads intending to integrate not only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and slaughter Humans and devastate their world; but to stop the war that consumes Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. All three intelligences hover on the edge of extinction. The merger of Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society might not only save all three – but become something not even they could predict. Something entirely new...

The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest primate tribe of Humans – Oscar and Xiomara; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote – six, pack leaders Qap and Xurf; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven, Dao-hi the Herd mother. On nursery farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two, warring people to reproduce and grow far from their home worlds.

“We had nearly fallen into stagnation when we encountered the Kiiote.”

“And we into internecine war when we encountered the Yown’Hoo.”

 “Yown’Hoo and Kiiote have been defending themselves for a thousand revolutions of our Sun.”

 “Together, we might do something none of us alone might have done…a destiny that included Yown’Hoo, Kiiote, and Human.” (2/19/2015)

“Yes. Our mission, which I thought was a Human trick, or an elaborate Yown’Hoo prank…has now been confirmed as truth in a most startling way,” said Dao-hi.

“What mission?” said Lan-mai-ti.

“We seek the Primeval.” Por-go-el shuddered alongside her, and the immature Por-go-el dug its claws into Dao-hi’s side. She continued, “The Primeval chose this world for all of the Herd. It chose it because it was perfect. At the same time, Kiiote discovered that it was perfect for them. And Humans have bred here for tens of thousands of year.” She paused, “It does not strike you as strange?”

Lan-mai-ti, “It is a strange, perhaps important event, Herd Mother.”

Por-go-el said, “This world is more than it appears, Herd Mother. It must have been both chosen and ideal for a reason deeper than we can see.”

The Herd Mother curled her neck to look down at the potential male. If it continued to grow in such deep thought, she would have to make sure she bore at least one litter with it. She said, “Indeed, Por-gel. Indeed. The Primeval is on this world; and we go to meet her.”

“How will we find her?” said Por-go-el.

“Follow, small Herd, we must distance ourselves from the tunnel. There may be eyes on this world other than those of the Herd, the Pack, and the Naked Apes.” She usually didn’t refer to Humans in the derogative her people used in private, but one of their own had bestowed the name, and reading the text of the manuscript in a few days, she had to agree. Particularly with the Hoonish observation that “If something bites you, it’s most likely to be female.” Such was reality in the Herd. Males might have claws and speed, but females sharp teeth, sharp hooves, and powerful minds.

Such was reality among other species the Yown’Hoo had met face-to-face in their millennial past. “The Primeval is here; there are two Humans who have pledged to help us, the first is the Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh.” She wondered again at the Hoonish sound of his name.

“We know that one. There is another?” Por-go-el asked from her back.

“There is another Human who has acted with honor on our behalf and it is from her that I received a message before we were forced from our home in the City. The last time I spoke with her face-to-face was before you broke free of your chrysalis.”

“There was a time before I came from the chrysalis?” said Lan-mai-ti, stretching his long legs to barely keep up with her though she was only cantering.

Dao-hi swung her heavy head on its long, supple neck, knocking the potential male from his feet. “Mother Kan Yuen, Triad Query Marker Guru and Specialist. You have learned of her; and yes, of course there was a world before you broke free! You think yourself as one so special as to be the first of us?”

He dropped back, the physical manifestation of his stupidity denaturing the adrenaline he needed to keep up with her. On the Homeworld, Dao-hi had discovered, such stupidity was quickly culled to feed the Hunters who were still allowed to exist there. But since Dao-hi had never been there and she knew nothing but legends, it made no sense that she should sentence one of her Herd – not as one of the true Herd Mothers did. She slowed, whistling encouragement to the potential male.

Shortly, he caught up again, saying, “I will endeavor to use my brain for more than a batter ram, Herd Mother.”

“Well said, potential. But we now have greater concerns. We must find the Primeval. You are the only one who can do that.”

Per-go-el stumbled but didn’t fall. A moment later, he caught up with her and Lan-mai-ti again and called up to her, “How may I serve, Herd Mother?”

She shuddered. It was a good response; precisely the response a potential male should have given. He didn’t apologize. She suddenly realized that there would be more to being a Herd Mother than simply punishing stupidity. If she had acted first, then thought second, Por-go-el might have died back in the snowbank. Instead, he was running with her, willing to help. She would have to reflect on this. He had no need to know how close he’d come to death, so she said, “You are potentially male, so your nose is the only one among us who can detect the microscopically small amounts of Ji-hi, Mother of All. I cannot as I am female; Lan-mai-ti cannot, for it is simple potential. This is the reason the Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh sent you with us. This is your destiny.” She surged ahead and was gratified when the smaller Por-go-el followed the surge and kept up with her.

Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/72/Rhll_wire_rope.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 368

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: body transformations/cyber implants/the Borg…

Current Event: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2qPWc32LS8&feature=related, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIqAnrjqb0Y, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWTE97GteZA

[NOTE: STAR TREK’s Borg still creep me out and while they ended up defeated, compromised and hardly implacable by the end of all the series, I wonder if the writers did that to make themselves feel safer. When they first appeared in ST:TNG, they were anything BUT beatable…and they still creep me out…]

Hajnal Nagy stared at her lab partner. “What do you mean, they ‘creep you out’?”

Voytek Jankowski shook his head. “It doesn’t bother you that Ms. Hawkinson’s substitute is more machine than human?”

Hajnal shook her head. “Why should the ratio of Mr. Yakovlev’s flesh to metal and plastic bother you?”

“Didn’t you ever see the old movie, ‘Terminator’?”

“Duh. I like old movies as much as you do, so yeah, I saw it. But what does a time-traveling robot have to do with our substitute? He looks Human.” She glanced at the man where he was working with another student at the front of the chemistry room. While he certainly did look Human, the left side of his face was augmented by non-flesh implants. He’d told them he’d been in a car accident and they’d rebuilt his eye, ear and replaced the left side of his jaw with plastic bone and teeth. His hand was also partially prosthetic and, he’d added, even though they couldn’t see it, he carried a pacemaker to keep his partially damaged heart beating and had an implanted TENS unit to take care of his pain. He’d finally added that TENS was an acronym for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation unit.

He’d written that on the white board, smiling and saying, “Isn’t this one of those ‘teachable moments’?”

“You didn’t think him talking about ‘teachable moments’  was sort of creepy?”

“Why would that be creepy?” Hajnal asked.

“I want to know what he thought he was teaching us.”

Hajnal rolled her eyes and got back to the work on the page of problems. Voytek said, “But...” Hajnal waved him off half a dozen times before he left in a huff. Once he was gone, she found herself looking up at Mr. Yakovlev. He was leaning on one elbow, pointing to a worksheet and trying to explain something to a student.

She muttered, “Stupid Voytek!” and got back to work. But she couldn’t help it. Her eyes were drawn back to his face. The plastic skin was identical in color to his real skin. The eye had a white sclera, but the iris was silver and the pupil wasn’t exactly round but a vertical oval, almost lizard-like. The fake skin on his hand was also a perfect color match and – she noticed with interest from where she sat – there were hairs on both of his arms. “Stupid Voytek!” she muttered. She turned in her stool so her back was to the front of the room.

She was sitting like that, hunched over the worksheet, when a voice said, “Do you understand orbital notation…” the voice paused, rustled paper, then said, “Ms. Nagy?”

Knowing that she was blushing crimson, she didn’t turn or look up, but hunched farther as she said, “Uh, yes, sir. It seems pretty straight-forward.”

He hummed, “Perhaps you’d like to come up to the front of the room and demonstrate your methodology for the rest of the class. Few of them seem to understand why you do not fill in the 5s1 orbital until after you’ve filled in the 3d5 and 4p3 orbitals.”

Someone from the class called out, “Hajnal gets it!”

Someone else started pounding on the table, “Let Hajnal teach us! Let Hajnal teach us!”

She finally turned around. Now that she was thoroughly embarrassed, she looked up at Mr. Yakovlev as he said, “This is a teachable moment, Ms. Nagy.” He smiled and she noticed then that his teeth, instead of being white, were silver. And as she looked, a tiny red light lit up on each one, while at the same moment, the vertical oval glowed blood red…

Name Origins: Hungary, Poland

Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/3,2,1_blast-off!_(15871161250).jpg/511px-3,2,1_blast-off!_(15871161250).jpg

POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY: Science Has NOTHING To Do With The “Sense of Wonder” We So Crave!

Using the Program Guide of the World Science Fiction Convention in San Jose, California in August 2018 (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…

Science: The Core of SF's Sense of Wonder

Many readers come to science fiction for the jolt of wonder at imagining the clouds of Venus, the chromosphere of the sun, or the frigid surface of Pluto. They want their breath taken away by the long scope of time of evolution and geology and the stars. What is that sense of wonder experience and how do people feel it differently? What science in science fiction most succeeds at getting to those feelings? Our panel of writers and readers of scifi wax rhapsodic about science in science fiction.

Bridget McKinney: fantasy and science fiction writer (film and television).

Stanley Schmidt: author, professor, editor of Analog Science Fiction and Fact; musician, photographer, traveler, naturalist, outdoorsman, pilot, and linguist; Guest of Honor at the 1998 World Science Fiction Convention, Nebula and Hugo nominee for his fiction, Robert A. Heinlein Award, SFWA’s Solstice Award, retired

Becky Chambers: author, nominated for the Hugo Award, Arthur C. Clarke Award, Bailey's Women's Prize for Fiction, won Prix Julia Verlanger in 2017.

Suzanne Palmer: writer and artist, won Asimov's and Analog reader awards, finalist for 2018 Hugo

Vincent Docherty: fan, con-runner, researched in Quantum Chemistry, works in the energy industry.

Annalee Newitz: journalist, editor, author of both fiction and nonfiction: Popular Science, Wired, Techsploitation, San Francisco Bay Guardian, io9, Gizmodo, Tech Culture Editor at Ars Technica.

This is a heavy group of individuals!

The question that vexes me (and has helped me!) is the answer to the question: What is a sense of wonder?

Here’s some definitions from the internet.

CAST OF WONDERS: “…we don’t rigidly define the genre…stories that evoke a sense of wonder, that have something unreal about them…non-condescending stories with wide appeal…without explicit sex, violence or strong language. Think Harry Potter or The Hunger Games…makes us think…thrilling entertainment and adventure…high fantasy, elves, dragons, secondary worlds, and magic…all forms of sci-fi: far-future, near future, space opera, hard SF — but accessible…”

Brave New Words: The Oxford Dictionary of Science Fiction: “…a feeling of awakening or awe triggered by an expansion of one’s awareness of what is possible or by confrontation with the vastness of space and time…”

“On the Grotesque in Science Fiction”, Istvan Csicsery-Ronay Jr., Professor of English, DePauw University: “…the primary attributes of sf at least since the pulp era. The titles of the most popular sf magazines of that period—Astounding, Amazing, Wonder Stories, Thrilling, Startling, etc.—clearly indicate that the putative cognitive value of sf stories is more than counter-balanced by an affective power, to which, in fact, the scientific content is expected to submit.”

John Clute and Peter Nicholls (Clute & Nicholls 1993): “…‘conceptual breakthrough’ or ‘paradigm shift’…achieved through the recasting…previous narrative experiences in a larger context. It can be found in short scenes (…‘That's no moon; it's a space station.’) and it can require entire novels to set up (as in the final line to Iain Banks's Feersum Endjinn. [Tried desperately to find it; couldn’t…)

George Mann, English author and editor: “…the sense of inspired awe that is aroused in a reader when the full implications of an event or action become realized, or when the immensity of a plot or idea first becomes known…” and “It is this insistence on fundamental realism that has caused Verne’s novels to be retrospectively seen as of key importance in the development of SF. …—people in droves came to the books looking for adventure and got it, but with an edge of scientific inquiry that left them with a new, very different sense of wonder. The magic of the realms of fantasy had been superseded by the fascination of speculation rooted in reality…”

Isaac Asimov: “…because today’s real life so resembles day-before-yesterday’s fantasy, the old-time fans are restless. Deep within, whether they admit it or not, is a feeling of disappointment and even outrage that the outer world has invaded their private domain. They feel the loss of a ‘sense of wonder’ because what was once truly confined to ‘wonder’ has now become prosaic and mundane.”

David Hartwell, editor and critic: “Any child who has looked up at the stars at night and thought about how far away they are, how there is no end or outer edge to this place, this universe—any child who has felt the thrill of fear and excitement at such thoughts…”

Damon Knight: (In Search of Wonder: Essays on Modern Science Fiction, referencing Samuel Moskowitz): “…some widening of the mind’s horizons, not matter what direction – the landscape of another planet, or a corpuscle’s eye view of an artery, or what it feels like to be in rapport with a cat…any new sensory experience, impossible to the reader in his own person, is grist for the mill, and what the activity of science fiction is writing about.”

Finally, from Clute, Langford, Nicholls, and Sleight’s ENCYCLODEDIA OF SCIENCE FICTION (the entire article here – http://www.sf-encyclopedia.com/entry/sense_of_wonder -- is very instructive, but I distill from it this diamond): “…‘sense of wonder’ may not necessarily be something generated in the text by a writer…it is created by the writer putting the readers in a position from which they can glimpse for themselves, with no further auctorial aid, a scheme of things where mankind is seen in a new perspective.”

I said earlier that this concept has both vexed me and helped me. I’ve been twice published in the online podcast called CAST OF WONDERS. It’s too bad that no one from that marvelous production wasn’t included in the discussion. I was rejected most recently with their standard note: “ Unfortunately, the piece is not for us. Our readers felt the story was missing the developed sense of wonder or fantastic element that we consider the hallmark of Cast of Wonders stories.”

It’s helped because I’ve had two stories published and cast with them (see the sidebar if you’d like to listen. The first one is “Peanut Butter and Jellyfish”, the second “Fairy Bones”. I haven’t cracked the market since they went to a professional pay scale, and every tom-dina-and-hawra have sent them their hot little pieces of fiction. Overwhelmed, they now regularly close their submission gates. They have a contest up now for a 500 word SF/F/H piece that oozes “sense of wonder”…I’ll try, but I wonder – is it that the competition is better or that they have more non-sense-of-wonder to wade through and they are grabbing things that meet their needs but may not be the “biggest” or “best”. No idea, just wondering.

At any rate, to summarize “sense of wonder”: While science or fantasy or horror can be the vehicle, this is entirely a FEELING that comes from inside a READER. It has little to do with the writer or editor. It has to do with the ability of a piece to force a reader to feel a certain way. It is, at its core, cognitive manipulation!

Now excuse me while I get my teacher’s hat on; very few people are as good at cognitive manipulation as the very best of teachers!

Program Book: https://www.worldcon76.org/images/publications/WC76_PocketProgram_2018_Final_WEB08152018.pdf, Who’s Who: https://www.worldcon76.org/guests/program-panelists

Image:

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/qghficsimjkaeibhfztnpjrqiezhzuadzsjxwpnxusefbthfes/images/c/c7/Lupin-class.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/180?cb=20130401201343