Not sure on that title

Trying to save a group of short stories from the fate that so many of their brethren experienced by putting out  a collection of them.  The problem is finding the appropriate title.  The best I've come up with so far is "Love Letters to a Fading Future".  It fits, but it doesn't pop.  Need to continue to think about it.

Introduction to Love Letters to the Future

Introduction

A single subject wide ruled notebook with a green cover.  If anyone ever finds it, I would definitely pay dearly for it because it contained magic.  Pencil and pen   filled each page fully along with scribbles, cross outs, notes in the margins; a complete mess.  But it was special to me.  Even after almost 30 years I remember something of my first story.

He was a lone explorer in deep space, a bit of Buck Rogers,  a touch of Han Solo, and more than a little bit of Johnny Rico  all rolled into one.   He fought and beat nightmarish creatures to eventually make it back to mother Earth and into to a planned but never finished sequel (with two lead  characters so it could be twice as good).  I scribbled and wrote in the car, at home in my room, even in class when I could get away with it.  That story (Starship?? I think) gave me sense of excitement that few other things could match. 

Some of the stories in this collection are about as complex as what I was doing at ten years old, some of it is cryptic and  as beaten as I was when I wrote them,  some of them aren’t even traditional genre work, but it all pieces of what I have accomplished over the years and  I really don’t want that lost. 

I’d like to thank Amy who pushed me to do this collection these stories wouldn’t join the green note book “Lost Fiction” collection and for helping me find a sense of wonder that I had lost.

Oregon Trip part 2: an idea engine

Three years ago, just after my wife discovered she was pregnant with our first child, she informed me we were taking a vacation since, in her words, it would be the last time  we could go together "for years".   Flash forward to Christmas, when I am informed that before Child 2.0 arrived we were having a "romantic getaway"  for similar reasons.  Hence  the trip to the Oregon Coast.


I could talk about the fabulous place we stayed or the sights we saw, but overall tonight I keep going back to the ideas that flowed from  being there.  Time and again  I would find myself transfixed by something I witnessed and out of it find myself inspired by  unrelated ideas.  For instance, at the Seal Lion Caves  I found myself thinking of a Pirate Story, an invasion tale,  and several others all while teasing my wife about the odds of witnessing an killer whale attack; which of course, would have been the best story of all.  Watching the Light house beams cut through the fog I found myself considering the stars, and how would an interstellar society would attract attention to dangers or even to themselves.

I guess the short form of the experience is a dream engine the likes of which  I haven't seen in a long time.  I tend to grind down in the details of work and lose my sense of wonder.  I'd like to thank the state of Oregon for shipping it back for me. 

On the TSA (Oregon Trip Part 1)

Since the inception of the TSA; on those rare occasions I have flown I have got to know a few of their officers a little more intimately than I would prefer.  Whether it was me telling an agent early on "That's as far as I go on a first date" when he asked me to roll my waist ban  down further after having me open it during a pat down or the scanner followed by the crotch grope of this past weekend; I just can't seem to go through the line without receiving a little extra "security".

Now understand I have no problem with most of these agents.  They are doing their jobs to the best of their ability, and there are going to be people in every group who are truly unsuitable to their jobs.  This isn't a bitch about either of those.  My problem, like many of you, is more fundamental:  I dislike the politics of fear that the TSA represents.  The announcements, the posters, the "threat level" for the most part  aren't designed to make us feel safe as we fly, but instead remind us how scary the world is.  I know many people have said it more eloquently than I and for that reason, I have traditionally never said anything about this.  Until now:

Until my (wonderful) trip to the Oregon Coast  (which I will be talking about  later on tonight), I hadn't flown for several years,  so this might not be new.  As I was leaving the airport upon our return to Boise, I saw a  TSA poster that I really wish I had taken a photo of since I haven't been able to find it anywhere since.   It had on the left side a black and white photo of a little girl obviously right out of the 1950s with her hand over her heart, apparently saying the Pledge of Allegiance. On the right, in color, we had two pictures: the top a mother and child,  beneath it  siblings, all wrapped up in the American Flag.  Beneath these photos was the caption: "Do you remember what it was like to feel safe".
It made my blood boil.  It was a well designed propaganda piece playing off the emotional reactions of the people walking through  the terminal.  A look at the images and their placement made it clear that the poster was designed to invoke a feeling  of unease or fear as travelers approach the security check points.

Fear is  the great thoughtless motivator.  It pulls even the most rational person in directions they wouldn't normally go in an attempt to feel "safe".  Unfortunately, in this case "safe" is an illusion.
Part of me wonders if we didn't lose something fundamental when we  allowed ourselves to traffic in fear almost a decade ago. 

If you are interested in learning more about politics and specifically propaganda  take a look at William Lutz's The New Doublespeak

The Quandary

Caught in a quandary right now; I’m  enjoying what little writing I’m getting done right now, but I’m carefully staying away from many of the topics I once wrote about.  In no great part this is because my new job.  It is an amazing job and  huge time eater and … problematically for the way I work,  99% of it is confidential killing many subjects I would love to write about.  I don’t want to put myself in  a situation where while talking hypothetically I say something that could be tracked back to something that happened on the job. 

Good plan overall considering in many ways I want to keep my writing away from education as much as I can.   I want this place to both be my relaxation and my research log.  I need to stay focused for that to happen. 

Any ideas would be appreciated.

Heroes in their own story

Have you had ever had a conversation with someone who most obviously on drugs or been around  a human being who was so desperate to be RIGHT that they were willing to go to almost any length in an argument to make everyone metaphorically bleed?
I have.
Almost Daily.
On the other hand.  I have  seen the heights of people reaching out to help others.  Often times from the same people.

I'm not offering any earth shattering insight when I say at the best of times people are complex creatures, but it is something that all too many writers and directors forget  when  developing a story.

It is too simple to just to throw a flat character out and allow your reader to see that  the so called character is nothing more than a place holder in your story.  Villain, Hero, Red shirt, Love Interest; nothing more than an interchangeable piece in what ever puzzle you are putting together.


Humans are so much more than that.   Even the worst of us are more complex than simply the word EVIL.  Most importantly in my mind:  at the end of the day everyone wants to the be the Hero in their story.

I guess the moral to my story is: one key ingredient to a great story is to create characters as complex as the people I meet daily.  I pray that is a recipe for success.

Dismantling the Future. Congress, NASA and our (out of ) Space program

So while reading the news tonight I came across an article on the fact that NASA doesn't feel that 8 billion is enough money to build a rocket with the parameters set down by Congress.
Now I'm not sure which part of the this equation disturbs me more:  Congress setting technical parameters ( and saying build it is the LAW) or that NASA doesn't feel it can meet them.  Either way it comes down to the same thing:  the United States will not have a  manned space vehicle after the Shuttle is retired later this year.

Honestly, this makes me want to cry. 

I had a vision of what  "space exploration"  should be.  It included engineers developing the technology to drive our astronauts to the red planet and (far) beyond.  It had a  brave, almost swashbuckling quality to it.  People reaching out and grabbing the   FUTURE. Making new and unintended discoveries settling colonies, growing beyond the fragile boundaries of our planet.

I know it sounds like pure romantic tripe, but there it is.

Right now though, my future is stillborn.  It lies dead in the face of bureaucratic cuts and men who lack the vision to dream.

It makes me sick to consider that soon the United States will have cut itself out of space and ceded the future.