C.M. Selbrede's Blog, page 13

Preview: Makeshift

Makeshift is a short story I wrote freshman year which recently received a National Gold Medal in Science Fiction/Fantasy writing from the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. I am currently developing an extended version of the story as a novella, and I’m providing a short preview here for your enjoyment.

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The first thing that struck Ally about the room was that it was big. It was filled with long lab benches with complicated machinery Ally couldn’t begin to understand, where scientists worked diligently doing tasks she couldn’t begin to comprehend. But most surprisingly, metal humanoids strode robotically through the room, performing tasks which ranged from pouring coffee to offering insight on the scientists’ current projects. Ally had heard the rumors, that the NQQ had nearly perfected the first true AI, but seeing it was another thing.

“What do you think?” The voice made Ally jump. She turned cautiously towards the voice to see Dr. Argus, peering at her through the rectangular glasses which rested on his wrinkled face. Out of place on this vision of age and kindness was a thin scar running above his right eye. Ally tried not to stare, or to automatically pull back her lab coat sleeve and glance at her wrist, which seemed to burn in the awkwardness of this moment.

“Yes- yes, sir…” Ally stumbled over herself. “It’s incredible.”

“That it is,” Dr. Argus extended a hand, which she shook. “I am Dr. Argus, as I’m sure you’re aware. I am very happy to work with you on this project.”

Ally frowned. “Likewise, Doctor. But I’m afraid I don’t understand why I was chosen to work with you. My field of study isn’t robotics nor artificial intelligence.”

“I am aware of your qualifications, Ms. Fallows,” Dr. Argus smiled again, gesturing towards the rest of the room. “Walk with me.” She complied nervously. Her heartbeat was so loud, she could’ve sworn that everyone in the room could hear it. Dr. Argus continued, his voice warm and friendly as he explained to Ally. “We’re now producing individual robots with their own unique intelligence at a rate of about one every three months. However, there’s a kink in the process that none of my people have been able to work out.” They stopped in front of a thick door, that looked like the door of a bank vault. Ally tried not to think about what might be behind it. “When our robots are first created they go through a phase…. a sort of artificial puberty, if you will. They question their existence, our existence, the purpose of life. Now, what happens to them during this time is crucial. It determines whether or not they will accept their designated purpose and perform the job they were born for.”

“I see,” Ally mulled this over. “What happens if they don’t accept it?”

“They try to exterminate all humans and claim the world for robots,” Dr. Argus replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “We put them down, and we start again. However, those actions are both financially taxing and morally deplorable. We want another option. And that’s where you come in.” Ally swallowed. “My people have built a robot to test various tools for other robots, and he’s going through the phase right now. I need a fresh pair of eyes to observe the situation and offer ways to solve it, psychologically, biologically, and robotically speaking. In your file it said that you began majoring in Psychiatry before transferring to Engineering. That makes you the only talented engineer on staff with the necessary qualifications to take on this task. Are you interested?”

Ally’s gut instinct was to get far, far away from this extremely sketchy project. Dealing with possibly homicidal robots sounded unpleasant, not to mention unsafe. Not to mention the fact that she’d left the psychiatry field for a reason. But she knew that if she wanted to move up, she’d need to get on Dr. Argus’ good side. And what better way was there than this? “I certainly am,” Ally agreed, putting on her best fake smile. “How do I begin?”

Dr. Argus handed her a large manila folder. “This has all the specs on the R-Mark II in there, and all the models before that. This one is built from discarded pieces of earlier models for the explicit purpose of testing this adolescent stage, so he has aspects of several of our bot programs. He’s down the hall, good luck.” As the Doctor walked away, the door  opened, revealing a long, white hallway.

“Wait,” Ally frowned. “So do I just–?” Dr. Argus vanished into the sea of technicians, and Ally’s stomach turned. “Okay, I guess…”

Ally took a deep breath and started down this frighteningly monotonous path. She passed a sleek, silverish android, and Ally drew in a sharp breath as, for a moment, the two of them made eye contact. His eyes, glowing bluish dots on a smooth black facade, stared at her with a hollowness she had only seen in the mirror.

Poem: Human

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(h)yo͞omən

 

Noun:

Fragile, precious object,

Capable of beauty

Yet chooses darkness.

Weak and worn.

Once in a lifetime occurrence.

Never surrenders.

 

Adjective:

Not forever.

Poem: You Are Not

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Guess what?

You are not EVERYWHERE.

you probably shouldn’t leave the house.

 

Every violent event

all my days

best I could

all the while

life is risky

every moment with

no

     Change.

 

Why not? You know no one .

It is silly,

Meaningless.

Poem: Worn Out

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I stand, uncertain, swaying on unsteady feet

My hair is frenzied and frenetic,

Yet not nearly as scattered as my disparate face,

Worn by the countless years of water stains and rough hands,

It is an old book,

Perhaps useful for nostalgia,

But nevermore shall it be appreciated,

For the life and fire which burned brightly within.

 

My blouse, in contrast, is a sheet of white glass-

Cool and crisp, yet not hiding

The fragility of my fading heartbeat.

 

My arms are too long, stiff

They are like a pair of headphones used perhaps a month too long,

They can seldom perform the tasks intended with finesse

They fall, loose and limp,

To an unfortunate conclusion everyone knew to be inevitable

 

My footsteps are short, and imprecise

Like a curious infant learning the balance of itself,

And how to best combat cruel gravity

Yet I am no child.

 

I am a broken music box

It was my own hands which slipped

Yet it was gravity which broke me.

Poem: Recollection

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Yellow wheat waves softly in the calm midmorning wind

The black shadows of the distant forest rear their two-dimensional heads

The teal hat of the sleeping centaur threatens to fly away in the breeze

The newly painted orange walls seem to call out for attention

The pages of the traveler’s magazine smell of purple ink

Grey water ripples as a boat cuts through it

A red barn stands out clearly, outlined against the dimming sky

The statue stares at me, lonely, in the magenta light.

Poem: A River Song

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The river sings against the wind

It sings a song against the wind

It sings a song of valleys bridged

And tumultuous torrents of other haunts.

 

The forest sings against the wind

It sings a song against the wind

It sings a song of dotted hills

And baby birds of higher trees.

 

The river flows between the trees

It flows so deep into the trees

It flows within the forest green

And the two shall sing until morning light.

Poem: America

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Tired eyes raise to the golden walls

Their grey tears mirrored by the savior’s eyes

The hard brown pews bring infinite comfort

To the lost innocents who preside here in the red city.

 

Here, in the dense black rooms

Death awaits in shades of black brighter than yesterday’s fire

Yet a blue flame, in contrast, burns bright in their hearts

Its embers crackling with a song of freedom.

Poem: Half-Baked

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Black and blue, brown and white,

The bundles I carry are fluffy and light;

My eyes are heavy, my garment blood red,

It is scarlet for my dreams, which are regrettably now dead.

 

I chose not this path, I chose not this name

My efforts to change have flickered in vain;

If only there was some way for me to be,

So much more than I’ve come to see.

 

This verse is unwieldy, its rhymes unfair

I see myself, and I,

I despair.

Poem: Hourglass

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Let me be forgotten.

Let my smile be stricken from memory;

My laughter, erased from the air.

 

Let time erode my sorrows,

Let age rust over my victory.

Let me struggle and scream

And stand against the tide of the hourglass,

And let me fall.

Let me drown in the sand.

Let me be forgotten.

 

I was not born to be remembered.

I was born to remember the universe,

Even once the universe has forgotten me.

Spring Cleaning & Updates!

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Activity on this blog has slowed to a crawl as of late, which has a lot to do with a) finals b) the hellish production of two‘s pilot and c) the fact that I’m graduating in maybe like 48 hours? Crazy.

So, yeah, things have been hectic, and things are changing, and I felt it was a good time to let everyone know where I stand.

I’ve been ambitious these past few months and have promised a lot of things. Here’s a brief statement of where most of these things are:

The Valley Chronicles: Tempest

Tempest isn’t as far along as I’d like to be, but it is coming. The third and final book in The Valley Chronicles Trilogy, Tempest is a unique challenge due to its heavy subject matter, dizzying array of plot twists, and extensive cast. For a while, I considered splitting Tempest into two books, but that didn’t end up feeling appropriate. Though it is a long story, it is still clearly a single story. So I found a compromise.

If you guys remember, Quest was split into 3 parts (What You Know, What You Don’t, and What You Are). Tempest, on the other hand, will be divided into two acts, each with 3-4 parts contained. For example, Act One of Tempest will contain parts entitled “Homecoming”, “Hope Against Hope”, and “Darker Days” among others.

Since Tempest is turning out to be so gosh-darned long, I think I might end up releasing Act One alone as an eBook when it is available in, maybe, September? And follow it up with an eBook of Act Two and the paperback/hardcover editions of the entire thing in January or February. Hopefully that’s cool.

two

My most ambitious project, two has taken a heckton of time and even more effort. My webseries suffered due to an insanely difficult time mobilizing actors as several quit, pulled us around for a few months and quit, or had to delay production due to extracurriculars. In the end, however, a satisfying cast fell into place and we were able to produce a 48.5 minute pilot episode, comprising parts 1 and 2 of our 10 part story.

And honestly? It was awesome. Good effects, music, and a great cast. I’m really proud of what we accomplished.

Though I remain skeptical that we’ll be able to finish this out, the cast and crew want to give it a shot and I’ve greenlit the filming of the other 8 episodes. We’ll see if it pans out.

Electric/Eccentric

That brings us to this blog, which has been underproducing lately. I’ve been releasing poems as promised but the short stories/serial stories I’ve promised just haven’t been coming. Sorry about that. I’ll let y’all know if I plan to bring them back or just drop them soon. Either way I need to improve the blog’s traffic.

The Outsiders Club

Still happening. Still behind Tempest. Stay tuned.

Deluxe Editions

As you all hopefully saw, the library edition for The Valley Chronicles was released a bit ago and it looks great! Although I’ve yet to get it into any actual libraries. Woops. Deluxe Editions are also coming, hopefully with more shiny new covers and special features, but, again, I’ve been behind.

Squirrel Academy

I haven’t posted Carnage Island in a while because in the past few months I’ve only done two more strips. I’m honestly anticipating dropping the webcomic, as much as I enjoy it I am not an artist and it is definitely beyond me.

AC3

ACC Cinematic has been tied up by two, since if I’ve had time to make videos I’ve been using it for the pilot. That might change, it might not. Stay tuned.

Thanks for reading. Sorry for being such a mess right now. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to consume my stuff.

-Craig