Guy Stewart's Blog, page 112

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 271

Each Tuesday (SORRY, FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL YESTERDAY! A BIT SWAMPED!), 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: http://f.tqn.com/y/inventors/1/0/x/w/Solid_Propellant.jpg

POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY: Gateway Reading – Getting New People into Science Fiction and Fantasy

Using the panel discussions of the most recent World Science Fiction Convention in Kansas City in August 2016 (to which I was invited and had a friend pay my membership! [Thanks, Paul!] but was 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. This is event #1072. The link is provided below…
Gateway Reading: Getting New People into Science Fiction and FantasyPanel Approaches to engaging readers new to our genre are discussed, including titles that make good entry points. Michelle (Sagara) West, Don Sakers, Mrs. Jen Midkiff, Arthur Chu(M)
The panelists: Michelle (Sagara) West, author of several zillion books aimed at the YA market. Don Sakers is the current ANALOG book reviewer and has plenty of novels “out there” aimed at the YA market. Mrs. Jen Midkiff is a harpist with vast experience in both performance and teaching. Lastly, Arthur Chu writes columns for Salon.com (among others) and was a Jeopardy! Game show super champion…
So – how do we get kids to read science fiction (and to a lesser degree) fantasy? What do we use to pull them into the world of hard science fiction and fantasy “fandom”?
Good questions!
Let me start with my gateway book. In sixth grade, I checked out this book: https://bellaonbooks.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/mushroom-planet-11.jpg
I also read SPACESHIP UNDER THE APPLE TREE by Louis Slobodkin. That may have been the sum total of SF books in my elementary school’s library, but it definitely led to me reading the WHITE MOUNTAINS, CITY OF GOLD AND LEAD, and POOL OF FIRE by John Christopher (pen name of Christopher Samuel Youd) once I got to junior high. After that, I discovered Heinlein, Nourse, Norton, Bova, Madeleine L’Engle’s WRINKLE IN TIME and eventually all of the others.
But let’s talk about today.
The gateway books into fantasy are pretty clearly delineated and will likely never change: HARRY POTTER took the planet by storm and shows no real sign of letting up. The question however, is, “How many children today are being drawn into the worlds fantastic through the Potter Portal?” Are kids still reading the books, or do they skip directly to the movies? When they’re done with HP, do the head for the works of Tamora Pierce and Diana Wynne Jones, or do they wander off elsewhere into the more immediate drama of texting and Instagram? No idea.
Science Fiction is far more problematic, and I think (but may be wrong) that horror for kids is passé having been flogged to death by RL Stine’s GOOSEBUMPS series and Christopher Pike’s “next step” YA books, and the inevitable dive into the worlds of Stephen King...
Science fiction hasn’t really had anything since Heinlein. “What about THE HUNGER GAMES?????” some people may scream. The fact is that I refuse to count those books as science fiction. While THG has its literary roots in Orwell, it’s an entirely different genre I think of as “teen slaughter porn” in which…well, I’ve ranted on this in many and various venues, so I’m not going into it again.
Real science fiction, in which technology plays some role is reflected in Ernest Cline’s READY PLAYER ONE and ARMADA and might be good gateway books for high school students. Scott Westerfeld and he made inroads into the YA field with both his UGLIES books and his steampunk LEVIATHAN books.
While I’m sure the discussion was fascinating and well-done, the panel really should have been made up entirely of teenagers. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the thirty, forty, and fifty-year-olds had lots to say. But the books they were reading as THEIR gateway into speculative fiction are old now, possibly out of print.
What are teens reading today? What was the FIRST science fiction (which I’m most interested in), fantasy (I’m pretty sure what the answer will be here!), and what are they reading today? Next time the Con should staff the panel with young adults!
Program Book: https://midamericon2.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MACII-PP-Interior-Final-HiRes.pdf

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION -- Chapter 47

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. The Braiders accidentally created a resonance wave that will destroy the Milky Way and the only way to stop it is for the Yown’Hoo-Kiiote-Human Triads to build a physical wall. The merger of Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society may produce the Membrane to stop the wave.
The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest primate tribe of Humans – Oscar and Kashayla; 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)
Retired looked at him, then looked at me. He stared for a long time, then finally said, “He’s your family, ‘Car. Do you trust him?”
“Who, me?” I staggered back into ‘Shay. She shoved me forward. “Why do I have to decide?”
“Like I said.”
I looked at my great uncle, Tim. I’d known him during the first ten years of my life – well. Since being stitched into the Triad though, we hadn’t seen each other. I shrugged and said, “I trusted him when I was a kid.”
“Do you trust me now?” my great uncle said abruptly.
“Trust you ‘now’ for what?” ‘Car said out loud. He was asking himself the same question and it was deeper than the obvious one – trust him to lead our Triad, only one of three on Earth, to safety. But the deeper one had to do with the fact that he was an artificial Human. He had been built of alien technology after my flesh-and-blood great uncle had died. I said abruptly, “How did the flesh-and-blood Great Uncle Tim die?”
The plastic-and-metal Great Uncle Tim shrugged totally Human-looking shoulders and said, “He was killed in a hunting accident.”
“A what?” said Retired.
“In those days, there was an abundance of wildlife that Humans could capture and eat – it was called ‘game’ for some obscure reason. The animals were limited and Humans typically ‘hunted’ herbivores. I remember that my Template said that carnivores tasted ‘strange’.” He shrugged again. “At any rate, Humans who hunted used slug-throwing devices and scattered pellet devices. One morning, early, your great uncle was hunting. Oh, I forgot to mention that even then, Humans imbibed a great deal of alcohol to enhance their enjoyment of certain activities. Excessive use of alcohol could lead to anything from the slowing of reflexes to death.” The robot’s Human-looking eyes looked at me and for a moment, our gazes locked. He shrugged again, turning one hand palm-up. “I don’t know what they had to drink for then, nor do I understand the high incidence of alcoholism now.” He turned to look at the Herd mother, then the Pack Leaders, adding, “I also do not understand how the Yown’Hoo and the Kiiote, who both possess a cure for this malady, do not freely offer it to the Humans.”
Qap and Xurf lowered their bodies to the ground.
Dao-hi sheathed her tentacles and stamped once. The rest of the Herd backed away from the robot acting like it was my great uncle Tim.
Then I wondered what it was that had made my great uncle the man whom I remembered. It wasn’t his construction – flesh and blood or metal and plastic. It was how he spoke; what he said; even how he stood and what he thought of me. The robot whom I had thought was the flesh-and-blood great uncle of my childhood…it stood before me now. I held my breath. What I decided could help us escape or get us killed.
Either way, the alien robot in front of me acting like it was Great Uncle Tim hadn’t steered me wrong in the past; my own father had trusted him; and we were, in fact now hidden from people who obviously wanted us dead. I said, “I’ll trust you.” The group began to move and froze as I added, “I also want to know more about my Human great uncle. The truths.”
GU Tim snorted then said, “It’s not all pretty.”
I managed to keep a smirk from my face then said, “It never is with us Humans.”

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

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 270

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: adoring the pests… Current Event:http://metro.co.uk/2014/02/17/cats-are-cute-but-could-we-learn-to-love-the-cockroach-4303071/
It took a while for Austin Ventura, Carmita Rodriguez Cruz, and Paulina Rodriguez Cruz to make it back to Austin’s house. Getting the candied-apple red Jeep Cherokee out of the driveway without starting it was a little tougher than Austin had been hoping.
He started out in the driver seat first, but because his driveway sloped up a little, they couldn’t get it pushed up enough to get it out into the street. Austin jumped out and whispered, “Paulina – you get behind the wheel!”
“I never drove!”
“Do it! Just hold the wheel straight while we push you backwards. I’ll come there and turn the wheel when it’s time!” All around them, was total silence; the dead of night when even burglars and rapists had gone to bed in order to hide their horrific shame from the light of day. If he’d tried to start the Cherokee...
“What are you daydreaming about?” Carmita whispered. “Push!”
Austin did. It took two rolling backs before the SUV was over the hump and into the street.
Then it started rolling backwards. “Hit the brakes!” Austin shouted in a whisper.
“She’s never driven a car, stupid! She doesn’t know what the brakes are!” The two of them chased the car across the street. But not until it hit a garbage can in front of the neighbor’s house. The family had a massively giant can because they only put it out once a month. Most everyone in the neighborhood knew exactly what day that was because the garbage stank to high heaven. And the can was jammed full.
Austin covered his eyes as the can teetered then tipped. There’d been no way to get there fast enough to stop it. No way to keep the month’s-worth of garbage from spilling into the street.
Cockroaches and all. “Ew…” said Carmita, who’d been standing next to him the whole time.
Paulina had scrambled out of the car and was coming around it when she stopped, transfixed by the pile of rot that now seethed with the bodies of the roaches, busily eating. She said abruptly, “Did you know that cockroaches are an important part of the ecology of Earth?” She took a step closer.
Austin and Carmita whispered together, “Don’t go any closer! They’re covered with diseases!”
Paulina looked up at them, laughed, “Not very often and the family appears to still be alive, so the cockroaches haven’t killed them yet.”
Austin looked at Carmita and said, “She LIKES cockroaches?”
Carmita shrugged and said, “It is our great shame.”
Austin sighed and went to the car, saying, “We don’t have any more time to waste. We have to find Carlos.” He hopped in and started it, gesturing for the girls to join him. Then with a spurt of gas, he sent them rolling and turned off the car. As they went downhill, picking up speed, none of them had noticed that they had picked up a few hitchhikers…
Names: ♂ Mexico, Mexico; ♂ Minnesota, Italy (= “baby in the woods”, “foundling”); ♀ Spanish form of French name 

Image: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OCWXw6InF70/TKigMBk87NI/AAAAAAAAAy4/tL7MhIfL9CM/s1600/2212_1025142570.jpg

WRITING ADVICE: Can This Story Be SAVED? #3 “One Million Nine Hundred Thousand” (Submitted 8 Times Since 2008, Revised once to “A Choice of Sunrise”)

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: Out of death can come reconciliation even between the most bitter enemies.
Elevator Pitch (What Did I Think I Was Trying To Say?): Nothing is going to change in space, even when we genetically engineer Humans for specific environments, insist that Human means some specific percentage of DNA…even when vast empires collide and reconcile, it will all come down to basic Human interaction – love, hate, and talking things out. Even in the clouds of a gas giant some 350 light years distant among people who live on the back of hundred-kilometer-long semi-sentient blimps…
Opening Line: “Tarand Leland Karr didn’t hear the screams right away.”
Onward: The grandson and granddaughter of the woman who forged a peace between the two sides that grew out of the Fracture oh Humanity survive their grandmother’s death and must reconcile themselves in order to plan a funeral. They must also avoid making it into a media circus which it is likely to become. The granddaughter plans to have it on the premises of her own cloudwhale. Her brother doesn’t like the idea, but swallows it. In addition to their family fracture, the architect of off the Reconciliation of Humanity to forge the Confederation of the Human Genome. In this universe, there are no aliens. At least the Milky Way is a Humans only club, not by choice but by chance. The “aliens” are the genetic constructs that were counted not Human by the Empire of Man. The Confluence of Humanity took genetic engineering to new…heights or depths. This the story of the reconciliation of the grandkids and Empire and Confluence.
What Was I Trying To Say?: Exactly what I set out to say…though I hadn’t thought through how much I was trying to deal with.
The Rest of the Story: …but again, I tried to do far too much. There is SO much going on here that once I start it, it will become a novel. The first book’s going to be IN THE SKIES OF RIVER, and I have that one already thinly plotted out. This will be the second, and most likely take the name above, A CHOICE OF SUNRISE…I tried to introduce readers of a short story to a new world, then I added a brother-sister conflict, layered on an “end of empire” story, and a reconciliation between retired “major players”. That was all rolled up in everyone joining hands, swaying and singing “Kumbaya”…Hmmm…
End Analysis: This story takes place in the same universe as “Hūmbūlance” and like that story, I tried to do far too much – read about it if you want to, here: http://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2016/07/writing-advice-can-this-story-be-saved.html
The takeaway after analyzing two stories is that my writing often lacks focus. I have a very grand idea, then add another idea, and then another, and another. The scope grows far beyond what a short story can comfortably cover. Maybe instead of lacking focus, I have focus – but it’s on too many stories and I don’t complete my thoughts. If I could pick one story then detail that story, I might be able to create powerful pieces that engage readers, and breathe real life into my characters.
Can This Story Be Saved? Simple answer: yes – by changing it into a novel. The more complex answer is that I can break this story into parts and just follow one person and do one story. In the long-run, I can START stories with focus, narrow the scope of the story, and aim at showing a single incident with a limited number of characters.

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

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 86: DaneelAH & Company

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 and I’m sorry, but a number of them got deleted from the blog – 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 (60,000+ words as of now), drop me a line and I’ll send you the unedited version.
MishAH, one fourth of Artificial Human Vat Issue 12254 nodded slowly, “I’d normally agree with you, Sister. But the Mayor’s got himself a new Consort.”
The three older vatmates snorted as one. HanAH snarked, “That’s hardly news, MishAH! He changes women as often as the rest of us change our underwear!”
She nodded, lifting a hand to concede the point adding, “The pattern is clear to me, as well. But this time he’s chosen a Consort who has his chief of security obviously upset.” The other three gave her their complete attention.
The marsbug started moving, rolling over the lip of the crater and into Burroughs proper. DaneelAH glanced through the forward window the back at the rest of them. He nodded to the Dome looming ahead of them. “What is it about this new consort that’s different than all the others?”
MishAH pursed her lips then said, “I dug into the Dome’s database a bit and found out that she’s a commoner.” HanAH shrugged. Even AzAH, usually siding with her sister against the two “boys”, looked unimpressed. “But that’s not all. Her father is someone named Abedne Halle-Theilen.”
She paused. After a moment, HanAH’s eyes grew large. He said abruptly, “The man’s high on the list of Christians under surveillance by Inter-Dome Security!”
MishAH lifted her chin. “I thought that name might catch your attention, Brother. She is not as radical as her father, but is a well-known sympathizer of his Christian beliefs. Worse yet, it’s fairly certain that the Mayor himself knows about her connection to her father.”
Her brother looked up from the marsbug’s computer screen and said, “He does, and in a public statement he made shortly after he took her to the Pylon, he mentions that while some may find her support of such radical religiosity repugnant, he does not believe that she, herself is a christian and therefore sanctions against christians, molesters, jews, rapists, buddhists, murderers, muslims, thieves, hindu, embezzlers, and…” always the drama king when he suited him, he paused for effect, then said softly, “us.”
DaneelAH scowled. “You’re trying to tell me that this Paolo has our best interests at hand – just because we happen to be on the same list of proscribed entities legally included in the term ‘non-human’?”
She shrugged, “I cannot go so far as to say that we should make common cause with the man, but he does seem to have similar goals as we do.”
DaneelAH shook his head and said, “I’ve been reading the file of holy books the Dalai Lama of Mars gave us.” AzAH raised a deep purple eyebrow. He sniffed, “They are instructive if for no other reason than to give insight into the reason Mars outlawed all forms of devotion but to Humanity…”
AzAH added, “Which notably does not include us.”
The ‘bug accelerated once it reached the floor of the crater, moving in a long curve to the center. Outlying warehouses, power plants, industrial manufacturing facilities, straight-up factories, and power generators whose sole intent was to manufacture greenhouse gases to build up the Martian atmosphere lined the road and grew thicker the closer they got to the entry airlock.
DaneelAH said, “I don’t have any sympathy for religion, per se. I do object to the exclusion of any group merely because someone has decided to exclude it.”
HanAH said, “What about Earth rules regarding genetic manipulation?”MishAH laughed, adding, “I’ve read that they’re considering legislation that declares anyone who is less than some percentage of something they call ‘Original Human DNA’ will be tossed into the category we live in.”
“They’ll be declared slaves?” AzAH said.
“They’re only rumblings of a few, sweet sister. But for now, we have a problem.”
“What?” AzAH and MishAH said together.
HanAH lifted his chin and said, “We’re here.”

Image: http://img11.deviantart.net/c3c5/i/2009/067/9/3/dr__manhattan_by_theknightinhell.png

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 269

Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then a thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.
F Trope: Appeal to a pastoral ideal: Much genre fantasy, of all genres, appeals to the pastoral ideal, one reason for the pseudo-medieval settings. Even urban fantasies will quite often depict cities as blots on the landscape, whose denizens /are blinded to what really matters by material ephemera. There are some fantasies, however, which either deliberately take the opposite stance or present a more balanced worldview.Current Event: “The Minnesota Renaissance Festival is a Renaissance fair, an interactive outdoor event which focuses on recreating the look and feel of a fictional 16th Century ‘England-like’ fantasy kingdom.”
Svenja Johannson puttered around the edge of the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. She crossed her arms over her chest, tossed her platinum blonde hair and said, “I was hoping for a bit more authenticity.
Matias Gallagher, strawberry blonde hair curled like a swim cap over his head, shook his head and said, “Then you should have tried out for ‘Castle Life’.”
She snorted – a sound worthy of a horse, Matias thought – “That’s just as fake.”
He scowled at her and said, “Just because you Germans have all kinds of castles...”
“Not ‘all kinds of castles’ – Wartburg Castle. That is the only castle.”
He shook his head and said, “Speaking of Martin Luther, what makes you think you’d even like the real Renaissance?”
“Are you kidding? My ancestors lived then, there was no pollution, no noise, and definitely no people!”
“What’s wrong with people?” Matias asked as a pair of teenaged boys in basketball shorts, wearing high-topped basketball shoes and suggestive slogans, walked past them using an F-bomb every other word. They looked at him and Svenja. One flipped Matias the bird, the other asked Svenja if she wanted to engage in a sexual act. After Svenja fired a crude rejoinder back at him and Matias leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, flashing both his six-pack and expanding his pecs, the other boy waved him away. The two of them faded into the mob of 21stCentury Minnesotans stuffing their faces the way they did at the State Fair and pretending they were in the 16th Century. Svenja glared at Matias.
Matias sighed, “Point.” He paused and said, “Let’s just enjoy the RenFest for what it is.”
Svenja scowled as a parade of knights in armor entered the Festival grounds, the earth trembling under the pounding hooves. The steel plate, gold trim, and silver filigree flashed in the brilliant afternoon light. There was a coolness in the air, a tiny bite of autumn hinting at the winter not far away. There seemed to be hundreds of knights prancing by. “There are so many...” she said.
“What?” Matias shouted. “I can’t hear you!”
“There are so many knights! Where did they come from?” The sun abruptly dipped behind a cloud. There was a flash of light and clap of thunder, yet when Matias pressed his hands over his ears, it seemed that only he and Svenja did so. Others around them seemed oblivious to the darkness and cold. “What’s happening, Matias?” she shouted.
“I don’t know...”
An instant later, the sun came out again. Matias blinked in surprise and Svenja stepped closer to him, grabbing his arm, long fingernails digging into his muscle. The first thing he noticed was the stench of open sewer and the legless man sitting on the ground in front of them...
Names: ♀ German, Swedish; ♂ Norwegian, Irish
Image: http://www.skyscrapernews.com/images/pics/6255CaernarfonCastle_pic1.jpg

Slice of PIE: Does Science Fiction STILL Drive the Future?

Using the panel discussions of the most recent World Science Fiction Convention in Kansas City this past August 2016 (to which I was invited and had a friend pay my membership! [Thanks, Paul!] but was 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. This is event #1066. The link is provided below…
Does SF Still Affect How We Think About the Future? Does SF continue to inspire young scientists and technologists today? Who is writing the SF that will shape the future? Patrick Nielsen Hayden, Michael Swanwick, Cynthia Ward, Adam-Troy Castro(M)
Michael Swanwick: Famous, etc., etc., but no technology or science background.Patrick Nielsen Hayden: Famous as well, etc., etc., but no technology or science background.Cynthia Ward: Famous, etc., etc., but no technology or science background. (She writes biotechnology, so she must have at least a layperson’s database…)Adam-Troy Castro: Famous, etc., etc., but no technology or science background.
All of these people write about the impact of science on individuals and society, but none of them has had direct experience with education (except as recipients of diplomas, degrees, and certificates delineating the levels of education each has achieved.) None of them are classroom teachers of young people (at least not according to the online information I have seen), and all of them are writers or editors more-or-less full time.
I can only assume then, that their knowledge of the affect science fiction is having on the future is anecdotal.
Nothing wrong with that…however…with the plethora of SF writers available at the MidAmeriCon, it would seem that finding individuals who could comment from direct experience would have been relatively easy. David Brin was there, as well as Gregory Benford, James Cambias (whose degree would have made him an excellent panelist on this subject), Jeffrey Carver taught SF writing to middle school students and might have given him insight as well…
*sigh* Perhaps it was simple logistics.
However, as a science teacher, I might be able to answer this question fairly simply by saying: “No, science fiction doesn’t inspire young scientists and technologists today.”
The reason I say that is that despite the fact that young adults READ more than us old folks do ( http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2014/09/millennials-are-out-reading-older-generations/379934/), what they read may NOT be science fiction that INSPIRES. More often than not, it's SF of a dystopian future bereft of hope...or a future.

This is happening just as scientific research is moving away from massive companies like Bell Labs and Microsoft. For us oldsters, the day of the "workshop inventor" is coming back --- with a decidedly 21st Century twist. According to Richard A. Lovett in the July/August 2016 issue, “Part of the ‘new-skunk-works’ [an experimental laboratory or department of a company or institution, typically smaller than, and independent of, its main research division] mindset is the ability to work on things with smaller teams and smaller budgets than would ever have been possible in the past…it also realizes that brilliant minds are at their most brilliant when motivated…[and] challenged enough [for] people who just might be capable of pulling them off…It’s a startlingly inexpensive way to push the frontier of science and engineering…Instead of arguing if there’s a problem, it’s based on pooling our brains to find solutions, maybe even before there’s another X Prize to encourage it.” (ANALOG SCIENCE FICTION AND FACT)
A few books that are fairly recent whose fundamental basis is either science or technology: MORTAL ENGINES (Philip Reeve); THE WHITE MOUNTAINS (John Christopher); THE SUMMER PRINCE (Alaya Dawn Johnson); CINDER (Marissa Meyer); A WRINKLE IN TIME (Madeleine L’Engle); LIFE AS WE KNEW IT (Susan Beth Pfeffer); and even SHIP BREAKER (Paolo Bacigalupi). Too many of the others wallow in teen-slaughtering dystopias to inspire any teen to a life of science and technology.
I’ve attempted to “right the wrong” in my book EMERALD OF EARTH, but the publisher is so small, and the fact that it is only an electronic book (flying in the face of the fact that teenagers prefer to “really” read paper books (http://www.thepassivevoice.com/2016/05/why-do-teens-prefer-printed-books-to-e-books-we-just-do/-- my theory on this is that they prefer paper books to ebooks because a book is pretty much the only thing a person under the age of eighteen can outright own. Ownership is a powerful motivator and nothing is more powerful than owning the gateway to another world.) has kept it from having any kind of appreciable effect on the world of adolescent literature.

Books for TODAY'S young adults that inspire the same kind of techno-awe as Heinlein's ROCKET SHIP GALILEO are few and far between...At any rate, I hope the discussion was deep, and I hope it inspired writers to write work that will ultimately inspire young people to consider the sciences and technology as careers.
Program Book: https://midamericon2.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MACII-PP-Interior-Final-HiRes.pdf
Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/ed/Amazing_stories_192809.jpg

JOURNEY TO THE PORTRAIT’S SECRET #90: August 1, 1946

This series is a little bit biographical and a little bit imaginary about my dad and a road trip he took in the summer of 1946, when he turned fifteen. He and a friend hitchhiked from Loring Park to Duluth, into Canada and back again. He was gone from home for a month. I was astonished and fascinated by the tale. So, I added some speculation about things I've always wondered about and this series is the result. To read earlier SHORT LONG JOURNEY NORTH clips, click on the label to the right, scroll down to and click OLDER ENTRIES seven or eight times. The FIRST entry is on the bottom of the last page.
An hour later, after screaming through Anoka, they arrived in downtown Minneapolis after rumbling down West River Road, past the power plant, and along old, deserted streets, through the warehouse district, and finally along Hennepin Avenue. Their first stop was at Fifteenth, where she got stuck behind a taxi and laid on the horn while the boys scrambled out of the barely open door, down to the street, and disappeared into the clogged up traffic.
Tommy said, “Now you gotta follow close behind.”
“I’m like your shadow,” the other boy said as they cut across Hennepin and disappeared down Fifteenth, taking alleys, short cuts, scrambling up and down ladders, and startled three old women who’d just pulled on their hats to do some shopping downtown.
“Hooligans!”
“Ruffians!”
“Scoundrels!”
The boys ran, laughing, then ducked down another alley. Tommy skidded to a halt, grabbing Freddie’s shirt. “Hey!” Freddie said, then slapped a hand over his mouth as they leaned around the corner and peered down the street.
Hennepin was now backed up, men in the street shaking their fists and cursing! Tommy looked both ways then dragged Freddie after him. Shortly, they were in the alley behind then apartments. “Nobody can see us. We gotta be totally sneaky.” Freddie nodded as they ran to the back of Tommy’s house. “I gotta check stuff out.”
Freddie grabbed his shoulder and whispered, “Watch out for them! They’ll kill you if they catch you.”
“They’re not here.”
“You don’t know that. They’re Socialists! You don’t know anything about them.”
“I know they scare me to death,” Tommy said.
Freddie’s eyes bulged, “They do?”
“‘course. But it’s my ma I’m scared about. I gotta make sure she’s safe.”
Freddie nodded, awkwardly patted Tommy on the shoulder and shoved him forward.
Tommy took a deep breath, then ran silently down the sidewalk between his house and the next. He stopped at the street, pressing his back against the wall, sooty from the stacks of the factories on the Mississippi. He stuck his head around the corner just as a flatbed truck carrying men in the back of it drove by in a cloud of blue smoke.
Tommy’s heart seemed to stop – then he realized it was just highway workers coming back into the city after getting out of a traffic jam. His knees went weak and he slid down the wall a little. He looked the other way up the street but didn’t see any sign of the Socialists. He ran back to Freddie and said, “Let’s go in. I’ll grab the picture and we’ll take it and hide it in the park.”
“That’s your plan?” Freddie said, “Hide it in the park?”
Tommy straightened up, “What’s wrong with it?”
“I thought you were gonna like, give it to the Tribune or the Star-Journal and then tell the Socialists that it’ll stay there…”
“But then what’s to stop ‘em from killing me and Mom and Dad and sis?”
Freddie started to say something out loud. Tommy shushed him as a truck rumbled slowly past the street end of the sidewalk. The boys cringed, backing around the corner. “I think it was them! Stay here!”
“What…”
Tommy ran to the back door, up the stairs, then stopped, slowly opened the door, then slipped in. While he was gone, Freddie stared at the door, jumping every time a truck or car drove past the end of the sidewalk. He waited so long, he knew he had to go to the bathroom – just like he did when they used to play hide-and-seek as kids. He crossed his legs. He held his breath. He counted to five hundred…
Suddenly the back door opened and Tommy came out.
Followed by his sister, who was holding him by the ear!

Image: http://www.lakesnwoods.com/images/1940s.84.jpg

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 268

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: The Good Guys travel through time to stop a historical Bad Guy, usually HitlerCurrent Event: “The Academy of Fine Arts Vienna rejected [Hitler] twice, in 1907 and 1908, because of his ‘unfitness for painting’.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adolf_Hitler)
Johannes Klingle and Shoshanna Barbivai glared at each other across the room. She said, “Why do I have to go with him?”
The technician looked at both of them, then shrugged, “I just run the time machine. I don’t make policy.” He tweaked a control, then turned away to make adjustments to a touchscreen on the wall behind the console.
Johannes said, “Feeling’s mutual, lady.”
She snorted and said, “I’m surprised you’d even talk to me.”
Johannes – Joe – shook his head, “I’m a American Democrat. We’re trained to be inclusivist to the exclusion of all else.”
“An American and a Jew...”
He cut in, “...walked into a bar…”
She cut him back, “I don’t drink, so the rest of the story would go, ‘and she watched as the stupid American teenager got sloshed and pissed away the opportunity to do whatever it was he was supposed to be doing.”
“I’m not a teenager.”
“That only changed last night,” she said.
“Yeah? Well I read your dossier, too. You’re here as a last resort to save the military career of ‘Daddy’s little girl’ – oh, and I wouldn’t toss around the part about Americans getting sloshed. From what I read, apparently you didn’t need a bar to get wasted...”
They were standing face-t0-face when someone in a white lab coat walked into the room, took one look at them, pointed a wand and depressed a button.
Both Johannes and Shoshanna gasped and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The woman in the lab coat released the button and said, “You’re a matched pair of fools. That’s why you’re here. This is the first in a series of time travel experiments and you’re both under arrest by the governments that shipped you here. Johannes – you’re here because not only did you do a DUI, you ran over a Republican Senator’s daughter. She’s still in ICU and the murder charges are pending. Shoshanna, your father said this will be the last time you embarrass him if you fail. I have in my possession papers that will remove you to,” she glanced down at a tablet computer she held in one hand, “Ravensbrück – if you don’t ‘get your act together’. You also both have a pain enhancing device clamped on to your brain stem. You’ve seen a demonstration of what it can do. While it may not work in the past, no one is entirely sure of that. So we’ll have to see.” She smiled a Reaper’s smile at both and said, “Your mission is to convince the Director of the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna to admit Adolf. The Director’s name is Gustav Wessely. You’ll be brother and sister visiting your great-grandfather on his deathbed. Adolf is your mother’s sister’s brother-in-law’s son. He’s been in trouble, but he’s a good kid. A little lazy, but he had problems with father.”
Shoshanna stood up slowly, shook herself and glanced down at Johannes. “Who the hell are you and what am I supposed to do to make that happen? From what history says, Hitler was a mediocre artist. Even I could have painted circles around him.”
He nodded and said, “That is exactly what you are going to do. And Joe there on the floor is going to help you.”
“How’s that?”
“The future possible Führer of all of Germany is deathly afraid of beautiful women. He’d never talk to you. But he loves drinking – especially when other people are paying. Between the two of you, you’re not only going to give him watercolor lessons,” he said looking at Shoshanna. “You,” he pointed at Joe on the floor, “Get up. You look like a fool. You’re going to get him drunk and them teach him how to talk to women.”
“Him?” Shoshanna exclaimed.
“Me?” Johannes exclaimed.
“Yep. The dynamic duo.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Johannes shouted.
The man in the lab coat smiled and said, “My name is Frank Adolph Hitler.”
“Who the hell would name their kid that?” said Shoshanna.
“Famous artists often name their children after themselves. Often times the next generation passes the name of an important ancestor on as well.” He bowed, sweeping on hand dramatically backward then stood up, adding, “I am one such descendant of one such ancestor – in a very, very different timeline than the one you two came from.”
Names: ♀ (Modern) Israeli; ♂ German/Austrian
Image: http://f.tqn.com/y/inventors/1/0/x/w/Solid_Propellant.jpg