Andrew Moore's Blog, page 62

We Need Dramatic Fantasy

I don't know what that means, but I don't know what it meant when Super Robot Wars was advertised as a Dramatic Simulation either. I think it's that characters talk during the stage sometimes.

Restraint Is Overrated

Right now you're probably thinking, "I can't call something in my story a dragodrake. That's just silly." In two years, somebody's going to do just that and sell six million copies. Restraint is cowardice dressed up real nice.

The Future's Sole Preoccupation

There it was, the lamentable routine. The distant curve forbade anyone from forgetting he lived inside a space colony, the dream of generations, but closer up, everything was as it ever was. Roger marched toward his designated external trash receptacle, rake in hand, ready to repel the scavengers the engineers back on Earth insisted were necessary for sustainable life beyond the planet."They spent trillions to make, get out of here, space rats and space raccoons! Get out of here! Get!"
It was the indignity he hated most, Roger thought during the indignity of leaning over to poke the trash cart with the rake at maximum distance. He hated whichever part of the routine he was in the most. Regardless, the raccoon made that weird hissing noise, jumped out, and skittered away. Roger sighed and began composing mentally another request to let colonists put lids on the carts.

That scene was captured by recording equipment miles away. The operative checked the setup, confirmed, and activated his communicator. "I have the combat data," he reported.
"Good. Return immediately to the secondary . . . what's that sound?"
Helicopters deactivated their optical camouflage, eight of them. Through a loudspeaker on the lead, someone demanded, "Leave the combat data there. This is your warning."
By the end of the warning, the operative was hanging from the building's side, about to crash through a top-floor window, when bullets going the other way shattered the glass. "That combat data is ours," the lead power armor declared.
The battle soon became general the way it did every day. As new as life in space was, the routine was already old.
Finis

Addendum

Or squash. Those people have money also. Don't bother with skating, though. In the first place, Bionic Lester covered that ages ago.

So why was he called Bionic Lester? Does anyone know? I just don't get it.

The Future of AI

We must make robots convincingly just good enough at golf not to low down traffic but bad enough that our rich people and celebrities can beat them. Then we'll be rolling in dough.

Addendum

Who else has trouble describing how things smell? I can tell you it's good or bad, but past that, nothing. It's time for us all to take sommelier courses.

The Fundamentals of Worldbuilding

If you don't describe the taste, smell, texture, and viscosity of every single sauce used in your setting, your readers might as well be reading a dictionary. I know most fantasy authors understand that, but you science fiction guys need to get your various acts together.

Metaphor Versus Simile

Similes are better because they use more words. Get up that word count, fellas. For the reader? The audience's happiness is your happiness, my friends.

Apollo Justice Collection

Have you ever seen someone call the Ace Attorney games visual novels but also admit to using walkthroughs to get through them? I have. Those people are allowed to vote.

The Three Bridges

"They say the three bridges over the Basawa river were made by fairies. Three different fairies, in fact, and so you be careful if you ever go that once you use one of the bridges, that's the only one you ever use. You know how fairies are."
On hearing that, three men conceived a desire to test the patience of the fairies. The first believed in fairies as much as he believed in honest judges. The second had purchased at a great price a blade promised to be effective against fairies and wanted to try it out. The third no longer had much use for the world.
The three traveled together to the Basawa and agreed that each would take one bridge, then shuffle themselves and go back over, and then move on to the third, one at a time. There was no particular reason for it except a whim, and since that was behind the whole trip, well.
They arrived at the three bridges. One was made of wood that came from those ever-growing trees that men aren't allowed to see. One was made from that metal that's harder than iron and redder than blood that men can't mine. The giants take care of that. One was made from pearl, the entire thing. They made quite a spectacle, all in all.
The three travelers carried out their plan, and at the end of it, the fairies appeared. "Who are these mortals who try to tease us when they have no ability? They can't pretend they don't know how to act."
The fairies came closer, three at first and then three hundred and three thousand after that. The three men were unafraid, and then the fairies realized.
"Oh yes, it's the gods of the ocean, the earth below, and the verdant surface who told us to build these bridges to remind them who they are when they finished their terms of incarnation. Well, never mind then, never mind."
The gods returned to their thrones, and the new era began.
Finis