Steve Stanton's Blog

Covid Diaries

I’m finding it difficult to write science fiction while living in an apocalypse. It was a lot more fun when dystopia was just some geeks exploring the future for fun and profit. But now all the hot topics have come to pass. Worldwide pandemic, check. Medical testing at border crossings, check. Climate change, check. Mistrust of government, conspiracy theories, artificial intelligence, check, check, check. What is a sci-fi author to do now?

Personally, I have been writing historical fantasy or period science fiction, and generally in the shorter form. There is just too much intimate detail in a novel to risk turning the reader off with a mistake in fact. Too many questions are still outstanding about the near future. Will face masks be required for travelers? Will vaccine passports be routine? Will old people continue to live in protected enclaves? Will social isolation and working from home be the new normal for the next generation?

Also, there is the soul-deadening weight of anxiety from a full year living in quarantine conditions. I’m not finding it conducive to creative work. I feel prompted more toward physical work. I want to see immediate change in my environment, instant gratification. My wife and I drywalled one of our houses and put on a new roof with help from our family. We painted the exterior of another house. We put in new windows and doors, along with all the detailed trim and caulking work. We have rarely been so busy.

But my two novels in progress? Nope. Not with all the time in the world.

Language of God

I took the DNA swab test last year, which I blogged about earlier, so I was excited to pick up a new book on Ancient DNA by David Reich with the title: Who We Are and How We Got Here. Apparently, there has been a “revolution” in DNA technology and an exponential growth of data in this emerging field. DNA is now being sequenced on everything that moves or is buried in the ground, including thousands of ancient bones of human origin. The author likens current reseachers to kindergartners who have mastered letters and words but don't yet understand the meaning of the story stretching back through millennia. The oldest human DNA found so far dates back 320,000 years, and more bones are being discovered every year. A data limit arises from the decay of organic material, because mineralized fossils have no DNA left to work with, but there is still a chance for older material to be found frozen in permafrost or preserved in certain types of crystalline formations. In addition to directing the genetic traits of individuals, scientists now understand that our DNA encodes the entire history of human life back to primitive origins. Although some areas of the globe have had only minimal testing to date, David Reich envisions an “atlas of humanity” that fits every genetic group into a worldwide data record that will provide a DNA timeline to studies in anthropology and archeology. His sense of anticipation reminds me of the flurry of research in cosmology years ago when scientists first realized that the cosmic background radiation in the sky had left clues from the “big bang” that allowed us to chart the first inflation of the universe!

So it now seems unlikely that God plonked two naked Jews in a garden and told them to go out and multiply, although science can't rule out that possibility definitively. The fact that God used DNA from chimpanzees and bonobos to fashion this new species would seem to indicate a more elaborate and strategic process than a simple flash in the pan. What we do know for sure from the historical DNA record is that there were at least four distinct groups of archaic humans, only one of which survived on planet Earth—now called “Modern Humans.” The present evidence shows a slow expansion out of Africa, where a group of Modern Humans crossed the Red Sea to arrive in a fertile land. That sounds familiar. At the same time, another archaic group with more robust build and prominent brow, named after bones found in Neander Valley, slowly expanded south from the European peninsula to meet with Modern Humans just east of the Mediterranean Sea. This epic moment is likely the source of legendary stories of “giants from the north” who took wives for themselves from among the daughters of men, known as the Nephilim in the Bible.

Ancient DNA evidence now proves conclusively that this is exactly what happened. Many bones of Neanderthal/Human hybrids have been analyzed and studied extensively, including one as far away as Romania. About 40,000 years ago, a volcanic eruption of ash in Naples, Italy contributed to the rapid extinction of the Neanderthals, along with climate change and other factors. However, some of their DNA lived on in the mix of Modern Humans. Today, roughly 2% of all non-African human DNA comes from Neanderthal man. Another extinct archaic group to the east, called the Denisovans, has likewise bred with humans and left DNA signatures of up to 5% on some Far Eastern islands to this day. The big discovery here is that these distinct archaic groups with wildly dissimilar characteristics must have shared a Common Ancestor in order to successfully breed.

Another notion that new DNA research has thrown out the window is the idea of a genetic tree in the development of man. What we see from the evidence is more like an intertwining mesh, a proverbial fabric of society. Regardless of how long a tribal group is separated in a genetic bottleneck, either by forced isolation or cultural caste, humans retain the propensity to breed and migrate, blurring any quaint notions of racial purity. Even Native Americans are a mix of two groups: Eurasians from Siberia who crossed the northern land bridge, and Australasians from further south who made an earlier migration. Everywhere we travel today, we are meeting our own cousins.

The human genome is a programming code with six billion characters. It is made up of only four building blocks, which we call “letters” in the double-helix DNA chain. Mankind now has the capability to rewrite this code as easily as typing a document. We could CRISPR the heck out of the human genome and very easily change our DNA heritage. But where would we begin? The blond hair mutation arose 17000 years ago near Lake Baikal in southern Russia, and seems to be currently fashionable. Bright green eyes are somewhat rare in humans, although eye colour is controlled by more than one gene. Perhaps the best place to start will be correcting hereditary diseases where a simple knockout of a letter or two will save innocent children from certain death! For now, DNA technicians and their lawyers stand frozen in awe as they study this incredible programming code, always mutating in the short term, always evolving in the long term, and yet stable across millennia. We are afraid to change even a single letter because we don't yet understand the language of God.

Humans are standing on a promontory overlooking a wide landscape. On one side, deep roots run down the hill into dark earth below, and on the other side, our vision of the pathway leading up a gentle incline ahead is obscured by fog. Above us, a trillion galaxies swirl in an expanding universe of incomprehensible magnitude, finely tuned by strict physical laws to the exquisitely narrow parameters required to produce life in a quiet backwater of the Milky Way. As above, so below, miracles of creation.

Reconciliation of Science and Religion

Reconciliation is more an Easter theme on the Christian calendar, but The Bloodlight Chronicles paperback is currently on sale this Christmas for only $3.45 on Amazon.com! If you've ever wondered about the “Christian science-fiction” genre, this is a good place to start your journey. The book recounts the perils of a young family who are hunted because of the special rejuvenating effects of their life-enhancing blood, (a metaphor for the Blood of Christ, Light of the world.) The novel received good reviews from many facets of society, including Amazing Stories, Library Journal, and Faith Today, and the first edition has almost earned out the publisher's advance royalty, which is a sure sign of success in the marketplace. Reconciliation has also been recommended for Young Adult audiences by Canadian Review of Materials, so you can safely stuff a stocking for any young person who enjoys weird fiction. The novel explores adult themes without profanity, sex, or violence, so the book makes a great gift at Christmas or any time of year.

Eternal Virus

The Bloodlight Chronicles sci-fi trilogy postulates an “Eternal Virus” that vastly prolongs human life due to its rejuvenating effects. The intertwining tales focus on the source and control of this mysterious virus, as well as the social effects of selective medical immortality. In these three novels, the “Eternal Virus” concept serves as a double entendre relating to religious experience and the search for eternal life, based on my Superlight novella published in 1997. This was before the human genome was sequenced or gene editing became commonplace, but even in those early days, viruses were known to be crude vectors for transmitting genetic information. Viruses have the natural ability to hijack cells, insert their own DNA, and trick the cells into creating more copies of the virus. They have been around for millennia and have left a huge mark throughout the natural world. In fact, we understand now that a full 8 percent of the human genome is composed of DNA left behind by ancient retroviruses. That's 250 million letters hijacked into the human genetic code of over three billion DNA base pairs!

We can think of the human genome as a piano keyboard with three billion keys. Each key is made up of a coupled pair of only four different building blocks, and these four nucleotides provide the code for only 20 amino acids, which are used to build the variety of proteins that create and sustain life. The basic code of the keyboard is quite simple, but the play of proteins on the keyboard is a complex symphony of molecular biology. Now the new CRISPR technology has unlocked the genetic code by using a cell's natural repair mechanism to insert nucleotides made to order. The four basic building blocks of DNA can be cut and pasted as easily as editing this document. In the words of discoverer Jennifer Doudna in her new book, A Crack in Creation, “CRISPR gives us the power to radically and irreversibly alter the biosphere that we inhabit by providing a way to rewrite the very molecules of life any way we wish.” Not only can we change any living creature, but we can resurrect extinct species or even create new organisms from scratch!

Editing the genetic code of sperm and egg cells or a fertilized zygote is relatively simple and inexpensive. Diseases can be eliminated from the host before they develop. Improvements can be tweaked before birth. Once this new technology gains traction, the human genetic code will be purified of error and natural conception will become archaic. Consider for a moment that every person experiences roughly one million DNA mutations per second as cells divide throughout the body, and each new baby begins life with over fifty random mutations from the parents' sperm and egg cells. Now, for the first time, humans have the technology to impose order on this roiling chaos that causes disease and premature death. Any delay in implementation will be judged unethical by future generations, when babies born with preventable diseases may well sue parents, midwives, and doctors for malpractice. As Doudna explains, “we are already supplanting the deaf, dumb, and blind system that has shaped genetic material on our planet for eons, and replacing it with a conscious, intentional system of human-directed evolution.”

But for an adult human whose genome is fixed and perhaps suffers from a debilitating illness, the chance for better health is not so simple. In this case, the CRISPR technology must be employed to change every cell in the effected system. A blood-borne illness will require every blood cell to be fixed. A hereditary vision impairment will require every cell in the eye to be corrected. In any disease caused by runaway mutation, every cancer cell must be targeted with precision. That's the forefront of medicine right now, and many public companies are undertaking this huge challenge and regularly publishing a deluge of experimental results. One of the most promising avenues of research comes from retooling viral vectors to deliver CRISPR payloads to specific areas and sneak new genetic material inside host cells. CRISPR technology can also be used to deliver protein payloads that force gene expression along the DNA keyboard without actually making any permanent changes. It doesn't take a sci-fi author to see that the “Eternal Virus” will soon be a reality. (And, curiously, the activated virus will glow green just like in my books, because of a green fluorescent jellyfish protein that is widely used worldwide to visualize components in the lab.) A whole family of viruses will be developed to cure specific diseases, and eventually one super-virus will have multitasking properties designed to repair cellular mutations and other damage related to aging in humans.

And so we come back to the questions raised in The Bloodlight Chronicles. Who will benefit from this emerging technology in an age of public healthcare scarcity? Will only the rich have disease-free babies and genetic enhancements? Will the One Percent control the genomic system as well as the financial system on planet Earth? Or perhaps only those politically connected to a secretive health community will have access to viruses individually tailored to their DNA. We can be sure that public insurance companies will not have the resources to pick up the tab. And what will happen when hackers start to tinker with the human genetic code in back-alley labs? Most of the CRISPR techniques so far are open source and widely published, and just as the advent of computer software galvanized a whole generation of coders to change our external world, we can expect human DNA to be the next big game.

The Joy of Reading

I don't recall the mechanics of learning to read, but I picked up the English language without much effort at a young age. Public school in a suburb of Toronto was tedious for me, even after being advanced an extra grade, and none of the school texts captured my early imagination. The humdrum curriculum bored me to impudence, but every summer when school closed for the season, I was fortunate enough to escape the city to a cottage up north on Sparrow Lake. We had no organized activities, so we kids made our own fun roaming the forests and climbing ridges of bedrock that rose out of the primeval landscape like ribs. Communication with the outside world was sparse. My parents had a black-and-white television with rabbit ears, but the reception was poor so far from the city. I vaguely remember watching Gilligan's Island once a week, and identifying with fellow castaways building forts in the wilderness.

There was a tourist store in the vicinity that I was reminded of recently, Martin's Tourist Supplies, where visitors could buy penny candy and souvenirs, gas for the boat, and fresh milk for breakfast. A single spinning rack of comic books stood in the corner, where I was first introduced to science fiction. Superman, the Hulk, Wonder Woman, Legion of Super-Heroes—they were all there waiting to be plucked like ripe fruit. The cost was twelve cents each, more than my weekly allowance, but in those days an empty pop bottle fetched two cents when recycled to the counter. Thankfully, there were three summer resorts on the narrow lane between our cottage and the tourist store, and a never-ending supply of empty bottles littering the road. Problem solved. When weather permitted, I would bicycle to the store in the morning, scanning the ditches for glints of clear glass. In those simple times, six empties was all it took to guarantee an afternoon of delight!

I still remember the intense feeling of anticipation as I bicycled home with a comic book rolled in my back pocket. Now, as a sophisticated reader of modern science fiction, I get a flashback of that feeling when a familiar author publishes a new novel, or I stumble upon a promising title at the library. For me, the joy of reading begins with that anticipation. The neurons are firing with a touch of nostalgia mingled with a sense of wonder. Science fiction is good at producing that feeling. The genre follows the ground rules of science and mathematics, but always takes a turn toward the impossible. Sometimes there's a puzzle to be solved, or a future to explore, but science fiction doesn't need to resort to magic or supernatural antics, not without some basis in hard reality. That's a pure sub-genre in itself, “hard” science fiction, but I digress.

My grandfather owned a cottage on an island that was joined to the mainland by a corduroy lane through the swamp. Behind the cottage, there was a granite lookout on a towering hill where I could view Sparrow Lake from a vantage above the tops of the pine trees that grew along the shore. That was one of my favourite spots. There was a steep bike trail up from the back that allowed private access to the lookout. I could spend the whole afternoon by myself, whiling away the time until my mother rang a bell for dinner. Down the cliff, there was a spot where the granite had split apart, but the boulders hadn't fallen into the lake below. The narrow rock cleft was filled with a carpet of brown pine needles as thick as a mattress, and I would crawl in there and unroll my new comic book, and later, my first paperback novels. I can remember the smell of paper and ink mingled with the scent of pine. Those were the days.

Do kids get that experience now? Does a digital download give that same sense of anticipation? We have the internet now and video phones. We are continuously surrounded by a sea of data much deeper than Sparrow Lake. The science-fiction world hinted at by early pulp paperbacks has already come to life, and we have a lifetime of media at our fingertips. But, as a culture, we never seem to have enough time for simple enjoyment, and the notion of isolation has become a quaint oddity. I hope we are gaining much more than we've lost. I trust there are still many dreams to be fulfilled, and I hope there is a sense of wonder for the future among young people today. I still love to read.

Literary Diversity

I decided to take the DNA test—swiped a swab, paid the money, took my chances rolling the old bones. With all the recent talk about cultural appropriation in the arts, I thought I should check it out, just to see where I stand in my chosen career as an author. My mother was adopted, so I was hoping for something exotic in my background that might expand my cultural parameters, (or at least qualify me for federal grant money, wink, nudge.) You never know. But, unfortunately, I turned out white. 99% in fact, which is as close as they can measure. 33% British, 33% Central European, 20% Scandinavian, 12% South European. My ancient origins are clearly present in my DNA record. I have a specific haplogroup mutation from 8000 years ago that was discovered in the remains of seven individuals in a European Mesolithic Hunter-Gatherer burial site east of Lake Vättern in Sweden. Another early origin from that time is the Stone Age European farming culture known as the Linearbandkeramik, that migrated from the Mediterranean Near East into the European continent. A later European haplogroup mutation dates back to the nomadic Yamnaya culture of the Eurasian Steppe, who travelled in wagons across lower Siberia as they migrated to Western Europe about 6000 years ago. They left evidence of an advanced understanding of metals (primarily copper) that transformed the indigenous farming community. They mined the metals they used to construct daggers, axes, and jewelry, and they used domesticated horses to guide the movement of their herds.

I'm not sure where this will point my career as an author during this period of literary diversity. In the early nineties, we just took it for granted that authors were born liars, (or had learned it after intense and careful study.) We just wanted to tell good stories and publish them. Dreams of making a living in the arts were quickly dashed twenty-five years ago, but the creative urge seemed impossible to squelch. My most successful narrative, in terms of sales, reprints, and translations, was a love story about a black man trying to escape poverty by selling his body parts in order that he and his wife might afford to keep one of their babies. I've also used first-person female narratives, which once caused a magazine editor to use a female pronoun in the contributor notes, bless her heart. I wrote another love story about an Ojibway welder painting archetypal graffiti on a spaceship launching from the moon. Now it appears that I may have been politically incorrect. Sorry about that. But perhaps my worst sin was the time I used a Haitian shamanic character as a matchmaker for a widower protagonist and his new associate. I studied the culture intensely and fell in love with the character. The story was incorporated into my second novel, Retribution, and also sold as a standalone excerpt, which is a good measure of success. I certainly did not intend to take potential profits from an unpublished Haitian author or usurp her identity. At the time, I was trying to promote the area in the aftermath of a terrible earthquake.

I guess it's up to the publishers to decide what is appropriate in bookstores and libraries. Readers have always made choices for themselves, regardless of the politics of literature. As for me, I would hate to be stuck writing stories about white guys with comfortable lifestyles. Part of the magic of being an author is the excitement of putting on a new persona and walking in a different pair of shoes. The creative imagination seems to produce all the best neurotransmitters for me, so all I can do is get back to work on the next novel and keep my fingers crossed.

The Problem of Tribal Genocide

I am currently reading Early Life in Upper Canada (1933), by Edwin C. Guillet, commissioned by the Department of Education of Ontario with a foreword by the Minister of Education, a book that explores the early social and economic history of Ontario. I may add this book to my review list, but I was struck early on by the problem of tribal warfare among humans.

Because the native populace had no written language, the first recorded account of life in Upper Canada comes from the French explorer, Samuel de Champlain. During his second expedition in 1613, he famously visited the capital of the Huron nation, Cahiaqué, near where I live in present-day Orillia on Lake Couchiching, part of the Trent-Severn waterway. As Guillet relates, “The Hurons lived in huts, of which Cahiaqué contained about two hundred. They grew a considerable quantity of corn, beans, pumpkins and sunflowers, the seeds of the last-named plant providing them with oil. Champlain took careful note of the manners and customs of the Huron nation, who are said to have numbered thirty thousand at that time. They built the white chief a bark lodge similar to those they used, and in it raised for him a simple altar, before which, on August 12th, was said the first mass among the Hurons. At Cahiaqué, Champlain met with Huron chiefs, and as a result of the meeting an expedition was planned against the Iroquois south of Lake Ontario. Feasts and war dances enlivened the period of waiting, until finally the tardiest bands of Indians arrived to join the war party,” which set out on September 8th.

That’s right: the first religious and diplomatic contact with the native Hurons was a war alliance! Perhaps I am reading into the text here, but the Hurons seem to have expected that the new power of Christianity would give them success in war against their fur-trade rivals, (perhaps an early version of the “prosperity gospel” that modern pastors denigrate today.) The Iroquois confederacy was not just down the river and across the street, but far southeast in the New York area near present-day Syracuse. And the Hurons had to paddle and portage their canoes the entire way! It took weeks of hard journey just to get to the fortified stronghold of Oneida, where “the village was well protected by four concentric rows of palisades formed of trunks of trees thirty feet high.” The Hurons were repulsed after a mere three-hour attack. Champlain was wounded in the knee, and carried away in a basket on the back of a Huron warrior. The disheartened war party re-crossed Lake Ontario, made temporary camp awaiting freeze-up, and finally set out for Cahiaqué on December 4th, arriving three weeks later after travelling on foot across frozen lakes and rivers.

To make matters worse, the Iroquois now considered the Hurons to be mortal enemies! In 1649, using recently purchased Dutch guns, they attacked the Hurons, burned their villages, killed the Jesuit missionaries, and dispersed the Huron nation to the wilderness. About ten thousand refugees starved to death on Christian Island that winter, but a remnant survived in Quebec, where they became Huron-Wendat, now known as Wyandot First Nation. And still worse, the early Hurons had a loose alliance with the Neutral nation south of Lake Erie, so in 1650, in the continuing Beaver Wars, the Iroquois declared war on the Neutrals, and by 1653 had exterminated them.

These epic events echo the Old Testament period three thousand years ago! Samuel 2:11 introduces the story of David and Bathsheba with this quote: “In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the whole Israelite army. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained in Jerusalem.” That’s right: every spring the best men go off to kill and rampage! This has been going on worldwide for all of recorded history, as detailed in the comprehensive book, Fields of Blood, by Karen Armstrong, which I reviewed early last year. https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

There must be a better way to live.

True Life of a Novelist

This interview by Virginia Carraway Stark first appeared online at Starklight Press on March 21, 2016:

Steve Stanton’s post-graduate training in accounting led him to volunteer as the financial administrator of SF Canada. He served on the Board of Directors for seven years, including three years as President from 2011-2014. SF Canada was started in 1989 in the pre-internet era to sponsor a sense of community among Canadian Authors.

Steve Stanton is the author of The Bloodlight Chronicles Sci-fi trilogy. His stories have been published in sixteen countries in a dozen languages.

His latest book is FREENET, a novel of interplanetary intrigue: A pretty girl falls from the sky, a handsome boy rises from the underground, and a popular newscaster dares to tell the real story.

Coming April 2016, available for pre-order today!

Hi Steve! Thanks so much for agreeing to be interviewed for StarkLight Press! We tend to get a little informal in our questions, so please have fun with them.

When did you first begin to suspect that you were a writer?

Hi Virginia! Thanks for your interest at StarkLight Press. I love the idea of grassroots publishing!

I think creative people are just born that way. When I was a teenager in the ’60s, I wrote poetry and song lyrics inspired by Bob Dylan and the folk-rock music of that era. After graduating from university, my wife and I had three daughters, and raising a family became our primary concern. It wasn’t until I was thirty that I began to write seriously. I re-enrolled at U. of Toronto to take a course in Creative Writing and was influenced by the postmodernism of the ’80s. I was thirty-three when my first stories began to appear in magazines and literary journals.

Did you find your background in accounting was helpful to you when you "left your day job" to become a full-time writer?

Not really. Novelists usually don’t make enough money to need an accountant. I suppose I developed great respect for money along the way, seeing the ups and down of various clients and dealing with death and bankruptcy. I had my house paid off, which is the biggest thing for most people. I learned how to live frugally on the financial fringe. I use free phone, free TV, free internet, free website. I borrow books and movies from local libraries for free. I hardly ever go to restaurants or bars, or buy clothes in an actual store. I live a bohemian lifestyle.

What first drew your interest to the sci-fi genre? Was it always important to you or something you developed as you grew in your interests?

I was always into sci-fi. I used to think I was from the future. When I was a kid, comic books cost 12 cents, and all you had to do to buy one was find six empty pop bottles and bring them to the counter. So while my brother was reading Archie and watching Hogan’s Heroes, I was going from Legion of Super Heroes to paperbacks by Isaac Asimov.

When you sit down to write, how do you get into "the zone"? Do you have a ritual, set times, or do you just sit down and do it?

I generally prefer to write first thing in the morning, especially if I have been awake in the night rehearsing scenes. If I am left alone with no wife or grandchildren, I usually fall naturally into writing mode. Sometimes I screw off work completely, especially between rewrites, because I know my subconscious keeps working in the background. The rare times that I find myself in a breathless panic writing a vivid and meaningful scene are the rewards that keep me going year after year, because writing a novel is a slogging task.

What is the funniest question that anyone has ever asked you about being a writer? How did you respond?

Someone once asked me about kitchen utensils. :)

How do disruptions affect your writing? Even though you have some buffering from "real life" interfering in your work with the power of writing being your full-time pursuit, how do you deal with the intrusion of life? What is your advice to authors juggling day jobs and writing?

I hate disruptions when I’m trying to work. I find it difficult to get back inside my imaginary world if I get pulled out to answer the phone or stop to eat. Real life sucks. The best thing I ever did as an artist was to drop out of society. All the novels I wrote while I was working in the real world were crap, but some of my short stories from that time are still being published and translated. Based on that limited experience, I would advise young authors to concentrate on short stories, which often arise “full blown” in the imagination and can be worked out quickly with great personal satisfaction. Novels take a huge investment of time and energy. In some of the top short-fiction markets, you can make just as much money as you will get for a royalty advance on a novel these days.

What song best describes your work ethic when it comes to writing?

“Taking Care of Business” by Bachman Turner Overdrive, because I love to work at nothing all day.

If you had to be a kitchen utensil, what utensil would you be? Why?

I would be a butcher’s knife, capable of trimming fat, cutting to the bone, and plunging deep into the heart of a metaphor.

If you could switch bodies with anyone on the planet for the day, who would you pick and what would you do?

I would pick an attractive woman, probably middle-aged, someone with a vast life experience for me to cannibalize for my next novel. That way I would “know” both sides of the interpersonal coin and could represent the genders equally. I would have sex, eat fatty food, drink fine champagne, go dancing, and spend all her money.

What frustrates you? In writing, in love or in life in general?

I find humanity frustrating. I can’t understand on a visceral level why someone would deliberately do evil to another person or racial group, or why a culture would distribute resources in an inefficient or wasteful manner. Watching the news is painful for me, and reading a horror novel is out of the question. I can barely sleep as it is.

Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.

I’ve never told anyone any of this stuff.

What do you wish that other writers could understand or know?

Well, I’ve never had commercial success as an author, so I’m probably not the best person to dole out advice, but I think writers have a great privilege and responsibility. Many people in the world cannot read, and many choose not to learn how to spell, even in so-called civilized societies. Literature can elevate both authors and readers. Writers have a duty to educate the future, and an obligation to represent the truth in their fiction. Your words will be the only thing you leave behind.

Thanks for taking time out to talk to us, Steve!

You can find Mr. Stanton at his webpage http://stevestanton.ca/

Literary Funding for Science Fiction!

The author gratefully acknowledges full-time funding from Canada Council for the Arts in support of a proposed science fiction novel, “Going Green.” The province of Ontario also provided token funding for this innovative project through the OAC Writers’ Reserve program. This interview by Christel Bodenbender first appeared online at Reality Skimming Press in November 2015.

You have recently received funding from Canada Council for the Arts to work on a new novel. How do you feel about the grant and how is the development of the novel progressing?

First of all, thank you, Christel, for your interest. Winning a grant from Canada Council really felt like an absolution to me after twenty-five years in the business and seven years working as a full-time author. I had applied unsuccessfully to the program for five straight years since qualifying as a “professional” according to their mandate. Just to put things in perspective, the total government funding of 25.5k for this project is ten times what I usually receive as a royalty advance. The new novel is developing nicely. No pressure.

Can you tell us something about the novel?

Going Green will examine the transformational impact of future science on Canadian culture using metaphor and allegory. I don’t want to jinx anything by talking about a work in progress, but there will be green aliens. 

What is your timeline for writing/publishing the book? Is this typical for your work?

Publishing is a glacial business, but writing can progress very quickly. My funding is for a full year, and I usually take that long for a first draft and first rewrite. After that, I’ll have to try to sell the manuscript, and then the editing and prep work will be on the publisher’s timetable. My upcoming novel, Freenet, has been four years in the making.

I found it refreshing to read in a different interview that you look at yourself as a reader when you develop the first draft, whereas many authors recommend to lay everything out before starting to write. Can you tell us more about your writing process?

I write for the pure fun of it, and I prefer an open-ended approach. I don’t write to a plot guideline because that makes it seem too much like work, too rigid and tedious. That being said, I take great care in developing characters and sometimes search for pictures that match my internal visualizations. Once characters become real, their actions tend to flow naturally, and I can depend on my subconscious mind to carry the story forward day by day.

Reality Skimming Press brands itself as 'optimistic SF.' Tell us what the phrase 'optimistic SF' means to you.

Science is making the world better for humans every day, and being optimistic about the future is the natural way of thinking. I avoid horror or apocalyptic fiction because I’m an overly sensitive person, so “optimistic SF” must be what I’m looking for and working towards. I don’t mind reading warnings of possible doom as long as an element of hope is offered by the writer or a challenge issued to the reader.

What are your favorite kinds of stories to write?

I like to write funny stories, although occasionally I do cry on my keyboard. I write science fiction as opposed to fantasy, because I don’t like to invoke magical thinking in my work. Fantastic elements must have some aspect of science to make them work for me, or be purely psychological outcomes of a character’s belief system. I like writing stories that are multi-layered and can be looked at from different vantages.

What other projects are you currently working on?

I’ve spent most of the past year working through a gauntlet of editors for an upcoming sci-fi novel, Freenet, which comes out in April 2016, almost two and a half years after the contract was signed with ECW Press in Toronto. I have two short stories and another novel currently under submission, as well as eleven grant applications under review, but for now I am devoting all of my attention to Going Green.

In Memoriam: Captain David E. Stanton (1931-2015)

A man’s father is his greatest inspiration in life, and I have decided to dedicate my new novel, Freenet, to the memory of David Stanton. This eulogy, written in haste at the time, was delivered at his funeral on June 30, 2015 to a modest crowd at Carson Funeral Homes in Orillia, Ontario, and I’m posting it here to provide a public record of the event.

My father was a commercial airline pilot and always a hero to me. He was an adventurer and a pioneer on the frontier of technology as Air Canada advanced from propeller aircraft to the modern jets we now take for granted. I grew up in a far different world from today, almost a magical world. For one thing, during the period from 1962 to 1967, the Toronto Maple Leafs won the Stanley Cup four times, if you can believe that. And we sure cheered them on from our home in the Toronto suburbs. Then, during the period from 1969-1972, twelve humans set foot on the moon in six separate manned landings, and I still remember watching the first one on TV with my dad at our cottage on Sparrow Lake. In later years, Dave made the local papers when he jury-rigged a special antenna and contacted the Columbia space shuttle on his Ham radio to give them private greetings.

My father was always building things in the basement. Even when he was working in a stressful and glamorous vocation, he built a hydroplane sea flea in his spare time and raced it in regattas at local lakes with his family cheering him on. He built radio-controlled airplanes and flew them with local aviation club members while we kids made forts in the hay fields and watched the planes sail overhead. I can still hear the engines whine and smell the high-octane fuel. Occasionally radio contact would be lost, and the chase would be on to track down the wounded bird when it crashed. Good times.

Dave built his own retirement home on the shore of Sparrow Lake and lived in it for thirty-five years after leaving Air Canada. He built his own biplane from plans and flew it successfully for many years, crashing only once. And even then, he rebuilt the plane and flew it again before selling it. In the winter he raced radio-controlled sailboats with a local gang of hobbyists near his home in Florida, and built computers for the family from salvaged parts. Looking back, I remember when he bought one of the first retail computers from Radio Shack with 16k memory, and I double-upped him a few months later when the next model came out with 32k. Wow. Now a common cell phone today has more computer power than all of NASA had when it put two men on the moon in 1969.

My father had the privilege of dying peacefully in his own home, thanks to the heroic efforts of his three sons and especially their wives, Angie, Karen and Wendy. We watched the Stanley Cup finals together during his last days and cheered for Florida because we both own property down there, but Chicago took the cup this year well deserved. On Father’s Day we wheeled Dave’s hospital bed out on the deck in the sun so he could view the Wildwood dance hall across the bay where he first met my mother. We celebrated their 62nd wedding anniversay just prior to his passing, and life doesn’t get any better than that.

Dave was fond of saying that his father built the Wildwood Inn with nothing but a wheelbarrow and a bank loan, and some of you will remember my grandfather’s funeral here many years ago, when Poppa Walter’s voice came out of the speakers from a prepared tape. That was a bit spooky for me at the time, but Dave didn’t arrange anything specific for this occasion, although he did leave behind many stories and videos for us to enjoy long into the future. In going through his paperwork over the weekend looking for various codicils and life-insurance documents, I stumbled across some rough notes he made a few years ago about possible eulogies, so I’ll just give him this last legacy in his own words.

“I am at peace. Be happy and love one another always. I am proud to have been a part of your lives in our earthly journeys. I have had a rich and full life with many adventures and friends. My Spirit now soars with God. Farewell. Goodbye, till we meet again. I love you all. David Stanton.”