Andrew Moore's Blog, page 92
March 29, 2023
The Qualifications for Science Fiction
What happens if a scifi writer is a little too accurate? Is he drummed out of the fiction industry? Does he have to write for James Bond movies?
March 28, 2023
Addendum
Firewright
Icewright
Dreamwright
Rightwright (this is a paladin)
Icewright
Dreamwright
Rightwright (this is a paladin)
March 26, 2023
Suffix Huffix
I don't know what a huffix is, but when you're attaching -mancer to things, don't forget about -urgist, not to mention -er, -or, and -wright.
March 25, 2023
Science Fiction Review
Quick! Look through your scifi collection to find out which authors predicted AI would be used to make current and former presidents argue. Those are the only ones worth reading.
They Want Your Measurable Engagement
Don't click on clickbait. Don't give hits to hit pieces. Don't whine about Wired. Just ignore it. It's all a trick.
March 24, 2023
How to Liven Up Your Boring Fantasy Story
A miniboss in every chapter. If you're story isn't boring, you aren't allowed to read this, by the way. You already did? That's a fine, I'm afraid.
March 22, 2023
An Inviting Secret Club
All the cool writers are using "ensconce" these days. Tell everybody.
March 21, 2023
Spring Is Almost Here
But don't set your story then. It isn't nearly an edgy enough season. Summer and winter are the good ones. Fall is for babies and talking about your feelings.
March 20, 2023
Sequel Series Corner
Q. I want to write a sequel series to a completed stories. How many years in-universe should I let pass?
A. Two hundred thousand.
Q. I sort of thought I would be bringing back some of the old characters.
A. As spirits possessing comic relief mascots who reveal their true nature at a moment of crisis.
Q. All of them?
A. One of them. The rest will be replaced by different people who look, talk, and act the same but have different names.
Q. The one holdover will get pretty lonely.
A. "X, you remind me of someone I used to know." Done!
A. Two hundred thousand.
Q. I sort of thought I would be bringing back some of the old characters.
A. As spirits possessing comic relief mascots who reveal their true nature at a moment of crisis.
Q. All of them?
A. One of them. The rest will be replaced by different people who look, talk, and act the same but have different names.
Q. The one holdover will get pretty lonely.
A. "X, you remind me of someone I used to know." Done!
The Tube
The claims of New Paradise to be at last the perfect land mankind had yearned to reach but had never before done outside of myth had a great amount of factual support. Metro GDP, commute times, unemployment homelessness, education outcomes, homicide rate (0.2 per 100,000), reported happiness; every measurable category put it in the top five cities in the world, and when considered together none could top it.
Yet Percy had always doubted it. Starting with his name, which seemed impossible in a true utopia, but stretching to the fake-looking smiles, the endless friendly chatter on inconsequential topics, the complete lack of swearing, the looming threat of the Tube, everything about New Paradise defied the human condition. He could not believe it, he did not believe it, and at least he did something about it.
The authorities treated him kindly, of course. They seemed more upset about the situation than he was. "Come now, Percy," they said. "You don't want to go down the Tube. We're all waiting for you to smarten up." But he was resolute. He had found his path.
With sighs and even some tears, though not from him, the condemned man was escorted in front of lamenting onlookers to the Tube. Guards opened the hatch, two keys being required simultaneously, and closed it again behind Percy. The mayor pressed the button, and with a phwump, the malcontent was gone.
At last Percy would find out the secret of the Tube and what lay behind the city's glamorous facade. So he believed as he shot along miles and miles of clear plastic tubing above roads and confused cows. Finally the Tube shot him out, and after taking a moment to recover from the unusual trip, he took stock of his surroundings.
"Huh," he said. It was Crown Douglas, the second-most idyllic city in the world. He found out later it had a Tube as well.
Finis
Yet Percy had always doubted it. Starting with his name, which seemed impossible in a true utopia, but stretching to the fake-looking smiles, the endless friendly chatter on inconsequential topics, the complete lack of swearing, the looming threat of the Tube, everything about New Paradise defied the human condition. He could not believe it, he did not believe it, and at least he did something about it.
The authorities treated him kindly, of course. They seemed more upset about the situation than he was. "Come now, Percy," they said. "You don't want to go down the Tube. We're all waiting for you to smarten up." But he was resolute. He had found his path.
With sighs and even some tears, though not from him, the condemned man was escorted in front of lamenting onlookers to the Tube. Guards opened the hatch, two keys being required simultaneously, and closed it again behind Percy. The mayor pressed the button, and with a phwump, the malcontent was gone.
At last Percy would find out the secret of the Tube and what lay behind the city's glamorous facade. So he believed as he shot along miles and miles of clear plastic tubing above roads and confused cows. Finally the Tube shot him out, and after taking a moment to recover from the unusual trip, he took stock of his surroundings.
"Huh," he said. It was Crown Douglas, the second-most idyllic city in the world. He found out later it had a Tube as well.
Finis
