Andrew Moore's Blog, page 105

A Fun Calendar to Try

Instead of having your story take place in 937 After the Dark God's Descent, why not do it like the Romans and name it after whoever's consul that year? You'l only need to come up with 937*2 consuls to fill in the backstory!

The Difficulties Are Perhaps Insuperable

A pebble bounced down the hillside and straight off the island. Doanu watched its progress while Ferdin stared at the ships entering and leaving port. "You know, Doanu."
"Doubt it." He kicked another pebble.
"I bet we could apply some of the construction principles of our ships to build ships suitable for other environments. Obviously we'd have to make all kinds of adjustments, but I really think it could be done."
"'Other environments?' Come on. What are you talking about? I shouldn't ask. I know you have no idea either."
"I'm talking about seaships, lakeships, riverships. All kinds of ships. Waterships!"
"Uh huh. Why would we want those?" Doanu swept his hand as if to mark all the sky surrounding the island with gold paint. "What are we missing here?"
"You never know."
"Hey! I'm not going up there after you clowns!" They looked to the foot of the hill and saw Ranoal waving for their attention. "Chief Lanneoru wants us! The order came down! We gotta reduce the oil usage!"
"Geh. Stupid oil." Doanu began to tromp down the slope. "What a pain. Where do you think those 'whale' things come from, anyway?" "I don't know. Maybe we can find them someday. With waterships!"
Doanu snorted.
Finis

Addendum

Which is to say, E+, E-, and !E.

The Three Science Fiction Subgenres

1) Earth is doing great.
2) Earth isn't doing too hot.
3) Earth?

A Better Bet

Write scifi stories about a future where people love reading old scifi stories. Nobody will ever know if you're wrong.

The Problem With Post-Nuclear Apocalyptic Fiction

Suppose you're writing in, say, 1959, to pick a random year. If a nuclear exchange between the US and USSR fails to occur, your understanding of politics and indeed humanity looks pretty poor. If it does happen, nobody will read your book after it. What a terrible bet.

Protagonist Power Level

Many people will tell you your protagonist needs to slapped around for 80% of the story, if not 100%. Those people don't want you to succeed. One to three times is sufficient. Just look at James Bond. Or Cobra. Or Indiana Jones. Or any kung fu hero who has to train after getting beat up.

Astronomy Chat

I'm not telling anyone how to name things, but blood moons should be in October, idiots. Morons. Dummies.

The Size of Apples

How far had the colonists of the hundreds of settled planets diverged? Discussion of that started before the first ship landed. Public intellectuals and college freshmen debated the issue in terms of genetics, language, culture, and politics at every hour of every day somewhere within humanity's habitational sphere. Out of those, only genetics was susceptible to evidence. When the science reporter had space to fill, nothing was more usual than to grab the latest statement about haplogroup concentrations.
Little by little, a less vital but absolutely crucial concern arose about something not so profound, but ineffably deep. Food. Did a tomato grown on Earth taste the same as one from the engineered soil of Saint Georges? Was cheddar cultivated on Montjoie even cheddar? An article here and there prompted idle speculation everywhere.
Sharmazem Zujenne loathed the idle. He applied his considerable resources to gather samples and invite guests known for their discerning palates to the banquet to end all controversies, the Interstellar Judgment. At last, experts would determine whether potatoes from settled planets ought to be given a different name, and whether the outrageous size of that famous watermelon was a trick of photography.
An occasion of that sort inevitably became the occasion. The wealthy and people who liked to be near the wealthy requested, demanded, begged for, or wangled invitations. Entire industries sprung up to supply their excessive wants. The tasting of tastings became the party of parties. For all that, Zujenne maintained strict security to ensure the samples from various worlds remained separated. On the first official day of the event, though celebrations had gone on for three, he ordered the vault opened, only to discover . . . nothing. Nothing but a note from Phantom Thief Sirius thanking him for all the produce.
"I don't know much about food, but I'm sure about one thing. Crime is the same everywhere." The detective-inspector got on the case.
Finis

Dream Sequences

The thing with dreams is, they aren't real. OR ARE THEY? They'd better be if the author bothers putting them in the story.