Rodger E. Carty's Blog: Rod Spills, page 2
July 24, 2025
Rock Art
In the novel Falling Up, Peter carves shapes into rocks for children in a remote village.
Movement to Peter's right caught his attention. He turned to see three children standing at the edge of the crowd, each one holding a rock. Turning back to Li, he said, “Ah, our wait is over. Please ask one of the children to bring their rock to us.”
Li spoke to the children, and to their parents who he also recognized, standing behind them. “Please come forward one at a time with your rock. This man will carve your rock for you.”
After a few seconds of hesitation, one of the men holding his son relaxed his grip and let him come forward. The boy carried the rock in front of him in both hands, though the rock didn't appear to be large enough to be very heavy. To Peter, it seemed like he was holding it out in defence, ready to drop it and run back at every step. He stopped, holding out the rock to Peter.
Peter gently took the rock and examined it, both with his sight and also within the rock, looking for cracks. It would ruin the carving if the rock cracked apart from his cuts. “This rock will do nicely. It has a very interesting pattern, and it's very fine-grained, so will take detail well.” It was a fairly flat rock, more or less oval, and fairly smooth. Apparently, a river rock. If the other children brought river rocks too, it would make his job much easier.
Li and the boy watched closely as he turned the rock over, this way and that. Once he had the pattern he was going to cut set in his mind, he lifted the rock into the air. This brought an intake of breath from many in the crowd, and an 'Aah' from some. Once it was clear of his hands, he put his imagined pattern into the rock, lined it up with the lighter streaks running through it, then cut the rock. He separated the two pieces in the air, then reached for the one with his hand, examining it closely with his eyes. Yes, that turned out very well. The lighter streaks within became branches with a leaf to the side in relief. The edges of the rock were sharp, and Peter lifted the rock once more to round the edges with a few judicious cuts. Taking it again in his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the shape and along the edge, confirming it was safe to handle. It laid nicely flat in his palm. He held it out to Li.
Li was amazed at the detail, and how shiny the surface was, as if it had been highly polished. The unpolished original surface on the other side seemed so rough in comparison. “That is beautiful, Peter!” Reluctantly, he handed it to the boy, who held it close to his face, while he brushed fingers back and forth across the smooth surface.
After several seconds, the boy looked up at Peter, said what Li translated as 'Thank you' while he bowed, then turned and walked hurriedly back to his parents, holding up the rock. His father took it from him, and he and his wife examined it together. Then, carefully and visibly not letting anyone else take it from his hands, he showed it in turn to others nearby, to a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahs'.
Encouraged by this positive outcome, the next child was promptly sent over with her rock. Peter examined this rock in turn, found no cracks or flaws in it, and noting this rock was rounder as well as larger, chose to make a small group of flowers. Since this pattern was more three-dimensional, it took multiple cuts to free the flower shapes. He also cut a flat bottom on it so it would sit well wherever they chose to display it. The dark grey of the rock seemed to turn even darker with the polished surface.
It, too, was well received, as were other rocks which followed. Then there was a rock that was so large, Peter was surprised the boy could carry it. He chose to make it into a small container with a hinged lid with inlaid flowers, suitable perhaps to hold jewellery. He left the sides rather round but inlaid them with patterns of ferns and other plants, and left a small knob at each corner of the bottom for feet. There was a chorus of 'oohs' when he first lifted the hinged lid, then several 'ahs' joined when he lifted out the interior piece which made it into a container. He left the interior surface plain, the corners sharply defined. By the time he was done, there was only a little of the back that was the original surface, and the box was perhaps half the weight it was originally.
—
Many rocks later, there was a fellow who stumbled as he started forward, looking as if he would fall flat on his face. He threw his arms out in front to catch his fall — inadvertently throwing his rock into the air. Peter caught the rock, for it could have reached the crowd and hurt someone, and also caught the boy mid-fall. He brought the boy over and set him on his feet in front of Li and himself, holding him until he was sure he could stand on his own, gently ebbing the gravity holding him up until he was standing again, though a little wobbly.
This was another river rock, unremarkable in size, shape or colour. Peter chose to be a little bit adventurous by putting the now-smiling faces of his parents and the boy's face in relief into it. It seemed to come out looking ok to his eyes, and Li and the boy seemed very pleased. His parents responded with many bows to him when they saw it, so it seemed to be good for them as well.
The next boy took one step forward, stopped, then flung up his arms above his head, rock in one hand. His intent was obvious to Peter, who, chuckling and turning to Li, said, “Well, it looks like our rock-art time is over. It's time to fly!”
Carty, Rodger E. Falling Up (pp. 82-85). self. Kindle Edition.
Movement to Peter's right caught his attention. He turned to see three children standing at the edge of the crowd, each one holding a rock. Turning back to Li, he said, “Ah, our wait is over. Please ask one of the children to bring their rock to us.”
Li spoke to the children, and to their parents who he also recognized, standing behind them. “Please come forward one at a time with your rock. This man will carve your rock for you.”
After a few seconds of hesitation, one of the men holding his son relaxed his grip and let him come forward. The boy carried the rock in front of him in both hands, though the rock didn't appear to be large enough to be very heavy. To Peter, it seemed like he was holding it out in defence, ready to drop it and run back at every step. He stopped, holding out the rock to Peter.
Peter gently took the rock and examined it, both with his sight and also within the rock, looking for cracks. It would ruin the carving if the rock cracked apart from his cuts. “This rock will do nicely. It has a very interesting pattern, and it's very fine-grained, so will take detail well.” It was a fairly flat rock, more or less oval, and fairly smooth. Apparently, a river rock. If the other children brought river rocks too, it would make his job much easier.
Li and the boy watched closely as he turned the rock over, this way and that. Once he had the pattern he was going to cut set in his mind, he lifted the rock into the air. This brought an intake of breath from many in the crowd, and an 'Aah' from some. Once it was clear of his hands, he put his imagined pattern into the rock, lined it up with the lighter streaks running through it, then cut the rock. He separated the two pieces in the air, then reached for the one with his hand, examining it closely with his eyes. Yes, that turned out very well. The lighter streaks within became branches with a leaf to the side in relief. The edges of the rock were sharp, and Peter lifted the rock once more to round the edges with a few judicious cuts. Taking it again in his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the shape and along the edge, confirming it was safe to handle. It laid nicely flat in his palm. He held it out to Li.
Li was amazed at the detail, and how shiny the surface was, as if it had been highly polished. The unpolished original surface on the other side seemed so rough in comparison. “That is beautiful, Peter!” Reluctantly, he handed it to the boy, who held it close to his face, while he brushed fingers back and forth across the smooth surface.
After several seconds, the boy looked up at Peter, said what Li translated as 'Thank you' while he bowed, then turned and walked hurriedly back to his parents, holding up the rock. His father took it from him, and he and his wife examined it together. Then, carefully and visibly not letting anyone else take it from his hands, he showed it in turn to others nearby, to a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahs'.
Encouraged by this positive outcome, the next child was promptly sent over with her rock. Peter examined this rock in turn, found no cracks or flaws in it, and noting this rock was rounder as well as larger, chose to make a small group of flowers. Since this pattern was more three-dimensional, it took multiple cuts to free the flower shapes. He also cut a flat bottom on it so it would sit well wherever they chose to display it. The dark grey of the rock seemed to turn even darker with the polished surface.
It, too, was well received, as were other rocks which followed. Then there was a rock that was so large, Peter was surprised the boy could carry it. He chose to make it into a small container with a hinged lid with inlaid flowers, suitable perhaps to hold jewellery. He left the sides rather round but inlaid them with patterns of ferns and other plants, and left a small knob at each corner of the bottom for feet. There was a chorus of 'oohs' when he first lifted the hinged lid, then several 'ahs' joined when he lifted out the interior piece which made it into a container. He left the interior surface plain, the corners sharply defined. By the time he was done, there was only a little of the back that was the original surface, and the box was perhaps half the weight it was originally.
—
Many rocks later, there was a fellow who stumbled as he started forward, looking as if he would fall flat on his face. He threw his arms out in front to catch his fall — inadvertently throwing his rock into the air. Peter caught the rock, for it could have reached the crowd and hurt someone, and also caught the boy mid-fall. He brought the boy over and set him on his feet in front of Li and himself, holding him until he was sure he could stand on his own, gently ebbing the gravity holding him up until he was standing again, though a little wobbly.
This was another river rock, unremarkable in size, shape or colour. Peter chose to be a little bit adventurous by putting the now-smiling faces of his parents and the boy's face in relief into it. It seemed to come out looking ok to his eyes, and Li and the boy seemed very pleased. His parents responded with many bows to him when they saw it, so it seemed to be good for them as well.
The next boy took one step forward, stopped, then flung up his arms above his head, rock in one hand. His intent was obvious to Peter, who, chuckling and turning to Li, said, “Well, it looks like our rock-art time is over. It's time to fly!”
Carty, Rodger E. Falling Up (pp. 82-85). self. Kindle Edition.
July 19, 2025
When 'no' is a good reply.
On my walk yesterday, I was handing out bookmarks as usual to let people know about my novel.
In one interaction with two women, I held up a bookmark and said, "Hi, have I given you a bookmark already?"
One smiled and said, "Yes."
The other, smiling, said, "No, thank you" — as she snatched the bookmark from my hand.
Falling Up
In one interaction with two women, I held up a bookmark and said, "Hi, have I given you a bookmark already?"
One smiled and said, "Yes."
The other, smiling, said, "No, thank you" — as she snatched the bookmark from my hand.
Falling Up
July 4, 2025
Travel
It's tourist season here in the Yukon, and we often see those who are here on an adventure. From here, they can go west into Alaska, or they can go north past the Arctic Circle, where in the summer the sun never sets, it just circles.
How fortunate to live in a time when people can make such long trips, and have the reasonable expectation of safety.
Not so in Falling Up, which is post-apocalyptic. The world's governments have fallen, most of the world is in anarchy, except for places where often nefarious people have seized power for their own gain. The world is a dangerous place to travel in. Peter and Lucy talk about this in Chapter 20:
“Well, I can shape gravity, and that's how I can fly.”
“Just with your mind?”
“Yes, I just imagine in my mind what I want gravity to do, and it happens.”
“Amazing! How I wish I could do that! I could travel the world!”
Grinning again, Peter said, “I've been just about all over the world, and it's wonderful indeed!”
“A world traveller! And all I've done is sail down the coast of half a continent! Perhaps one day.”
“Don't minimize what you've done. While I've been zooming along high in the sky, safe even when on the ground, you've sailed alone and put yourself at risk every bit of the way! I'd say you're the one with the biggest adventure!”
How fortunate to live in a time when people can make such long trips, and have the reasonable expectation of safety.
Not so in Falling Up, which is post-apocalyptic. The world's governments have fallen, most of the world is in anarchy, except for places where often nefarious people have seized power for their own gain. The world is a dangerous place to travel in. Peter and Lucy talk about this in Chapter 20:
“Well, I can shape gravity, and that's how I can fly.”
“Just with your mind?”
“Yes, I just imagine in my mind what I want gravity to do, and it happens.”
“Amazing! How I wish I could do that! I could travel the world!”
Grinning again, Peter said, “I've been just about all over the world, and it's wonderful indeed!”
“A world traveller! And all I've done is sail down the coast of half a continent! Perhaps one day.”
“Don't minimize what you've done. While I've been zooming along high in the sky, safe even when on the ground, you've sailed alone and put yourself at risk every bit of the way! I'd say you're the one with the biggest adventure!”
July 1, 2025
Still reading my novel for fun
Five months after publishing my debut novel Falling Up, and I'm still enjoying reading it for the fun of it. I'm in chapter 18: Armoury right now, one of my favourite chapters. Peter's new friend Jack is a gun lover, and it was such a pleasure writing his kid in a candy store delight.
“Do you have your shopping list ready?”
“Yes, right.” Jack's eyes moved across the shelves and stacks of crates, walking briskly up one row and down the next. “I don't see them. Ah, they must be in the back room. Care to unlock another door for me?”
Peter focused on the lock mechanism, but this time saw it was a simple spring-loaded handle on the inside. No key required to get out of the room, so he just rotated the handle, then pushed the door open from the other side. It was fully open by the time he and Jack walked up to it.
Jack looked from the now open door to Peter and grinned. “Keys to the kingdom! You're a real handy guy to have around, you know that? Yes, this is it! We need to open this crate to make sure it's not empty.”
“From here, I can already tell it has guns in it — big guns. Neatly racked, and no empty slots.”
“Oh, right. Um, I'd still like to see them with my own eyes.”
Nodding, Peter said, “It's screws, not nails, so we'll have to unscrew them if you want to keep the crate intact.” Then, half to himself, he said, “I might be able to turn them if I shape a shield to fit.”
While Jack went to a tool bench to find screwdrivers, Peter focused on the star shape in the head of a screw, filled it with a shield, then rotated it. It was tricky because not only did he have to rotate the shape, but he had to raise it as the screw backed out of the hole. He got the first screw out and started on the second by the time Jack got back with two screwdrivers.
Jack held the other screwdriver out for Peter, saw he didn't need it, and put it in his back pocket to leave his hands free for his own. Then he applied his screwdriver to the screw closest to him.
Peter found the movement of the screw was predictable enough he could speed up removing the next one. And sped up even more on the next one. He had three out by the time Jack had his first out, and his fourth screw came out so fast it made a creaking noise. Then he found repeating the pattern in the next screw was easy enough that he could start on another before it was finished. Soon there was a chorus of creaking screws.
As Jack was laboriously finishing getting his third screw out, he saw Peter had finished all the rest. With a laugh, he said, “Hey, thanks for helping me with these screws. You're so fast, you nearly kept up to me!”
Peter chuckled and smiled back.
Putting the other screwdriver in his back pocket with the first, Jack lifted the top off the crate and peered in. He stroked the closest weapon. “Barrett M107A1! I'm in heaven! Look at all those beauties!” Turning his head toward Peter, he said, “I'm going to need scopes and ammo for these! And extra mags too!”
He set the lid back down almost reverently, then he practically ran from shelf to shelf, looking for accessories for his prized guns.
“Do you have your shopping list ready?”
“Yes, right.” Jack's eyes moved across the shelves and stacks of crates, walking briskly up one row and down the next. “I don't see them. Ah, they must be in the back room. Care to unlock another door for me?”
Peter focused on the lock mechanism, but this time saw it was a simple spring-loaded handle on the inside. No key required to get out of the room, so he just rotated the handle, then pushed the door open from the other side. It was fully open by the time he and Jack walked up to it.
Jack looked from the now open door to Peter and grinned. “Keys to the kingdom! You're a real handy guy to have around, you know that? Yes, this is it! We need to open this crate to make sure it's not empty.”
“From here, I can already tell it has guns in it — big guns. Neatly racked, and no empty slots.”
“Oh, right. Um, I'd still like to see them with my own eyes.”
Nodding, Peter said, “It's screws, not nails, so we'll have to unscrew them if you want to keep the crate intact.” Then, half to himself, he said, “I might be able to turn them if I shape a shield to fit.”
While Jack went to a tool bench to find screwdrivers, Peter focused on the star shape in the head of a screw, filled it with a shield, then rotated it. It was tricky because not only did he have to rotate the shape, but he had to raise it as the screw backed out of the hole. He got the first screw out and started on the second by the time Jack got back with two screwdrivers.
Jack held the other screwdriver out for Peter, saw he didn't need it, and put it in his back pocket to leave his hands free for his own. Then he applied his screwdriver to the screw closest to him.
Peter found the movement of the screw was predictable enough he could speed up removing the next one. And sped up even more on the next one. He had three out by the time Jack had his first out, and his fourth screw came out so fast it made a creaking noise. Then he found repeating the pattern in the next screw was easy enough that he could start on another before it was finished. Soon there was a chorus of creaking screws.
As Jack was laboriously finishing getting his third screw out, he saw Peter had finished all the rest. With a laugh, he said, “Hey, thanks for helping me with these screws. You're so fast, you nearly kept up to me!”
Peter chuckled and smiled back.
Putting the other screwdriver in his back pocket with the first, Jack lifted the top off the crate and peered in. He stroked the closest weapon. “Barrett M107A1! I'm in heaven! Look at all those beauties!” Turning his head toward Peter, he said, “I'm going to need scopes and ammo for these! And extra mags too!”
He set the lid back down almost reverently, then he practically ran from shelf to shelf, looking for accessories for his prized guns.
April 28, 2025
Power
I just read news of the power outage in Spain and Portugal. Apparently it started with the interconnect between the two countries, and caused rolling outages in both. I presume that is due to remaining generators being overloaded.
It's a common problem in an interconnected grid, since none of those systems are capable of carrying the full load they're connected to.
There was a partial outage in Texas in 2021, and they intentionally didn't connect to the grid in other states. It was a close thing.
"According to the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT), the Texas power grid was four minutes and 37 seconds away from complete failure when partial grid shutdowns were implemented."
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2021_Te...
If they had completely lost power, they would have a big problem getting it back up. It's called a black start.
Why am I talking about that? Because my novel is post-apocalyptic: a brief nuclear exchange. Although many cities were untouched by the bombs, enough of the power grid was knocked out that most of the rest of the world couldn't maintain the grid and so it all went down. It reduced nearly the whole world to frontier-level.
Part of the novel's plot is efforts to restore power in the USA.
It's a common problem in an interconnected grid, since none of those systems are capable of carrying the full load they're connected to.
There was a partial outage in Texas in 2021, and they intentionally didn't connect to the grid in other states. It was a close thing.
"According to the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT), the Texas power grid was four minutes and 37 seconds away from complete failure when partial grid shutdowns were implemented."
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2021_Te...
If they had completely lost power, they would have a big problem getting it back up. It's called a black start.
Why am I talking about that? Because my novel is post-apocalyptic: a brief nuclear exchange. Although many cities were untouched by the bombs, enough of the power grid was knocked out that most of the rest of the world couldn't maintain the grid and so it all went down. It reduced nearly the whole world to frontier-level.
Part of the novel's plot is efforts to restore power in the USA.
April 26, 2025
character personalities
A question that has come up in discussions is about how I developed the personalities of the characters, a follow-up to the other question about Alice and Terence.
Mostly, I had these two characters planned out ahead of time. I'd been planning to write this novel for about 25 years. I also used Doc Brown in Back to the Future for some of Terence's behaviour.
Alice and Terence's characters, and their steel mill, were early additions to the novel. Terence's ability to develop electric generators powered by gravity is pivotal to the storyline of Peter's efforts to 'restart' civilization.
While Doc Brown was a bachelor, I felt it would be much better to have Terence married, and his wife be a steadying influence. It was good for Alice to handle financial matters as well, an area I thought would be unlikely for Terence to have much concern for. Likewise, advertising. Here's another piece, demonstrating their complementary personalities, and also an example of POV. The context is Peter has just brought his first stack of car wrecks for recycling.
This time, Alice and Terence had no thunderclap to announce Peter's arrival, but it was distinctive nonetheless: a shadow suddenly fell on the road in front. Seconds later, Peter walked through the door, but they were already headed for the door themselves, so he ended up holding the door open for them to go outside. He almost walked into them as they had stopped on the landing. They were staring up at the bottoms of cars, looking like a papered pattern on the ceiling of the sky. Slowly they turned, still looking up, back over the roof of the building. They could see the other edge of the stack, but it was well beyond the back of the building. The stack was larger than their whole building! They couldn't see how tall it was from here but assumed it must be many layers.
Finally, their eyes turned toward Peter. Terence said, “We're going to need a bigger yard!”
There was a long pause while Alice and Terence gathered their wits. Alice turned and started down the stairs, Terence and Peter following. “Let's go introduce you to the day guards!”
Peter smiled to himself as they walked along the road, the 'car cloud' keeping pace behind. It wasn't light glowing around him in the dark, but he expected this would still make for a very memorable first impression.
While they were walking, Terence asked, “Now, about your using gravity to run generators. How big can you go?”
Peter, thinking of the shadow following them, said, “Really big. I don't know if there's a limit to how big.”
Terence stumbled a little as he looked at Peter rather than where he was putting his feet. “But how many megawatts can you generate?”
“Well... Those headlights are about 50 watts, and they need pretty tiny gravity fields.” Pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the cars above with a small smile, he added, “How big the generator is doesn't seem to be an issue. When I was making my lights, I also changed the intensity of the gravity field to make the alternator spin fast enough. I don't know if there's a limit that way either.” Thinking of his bubbles, he said, “I know I can make it far greater than the earth's gravity, so I suspect there isn't one.” Displaying his knowledge of the terms, he concluded, “Megawatts for sure, if not gigawatts. Even terawatts!”
“Fascinating!” Terence continued walking, lost in thought, still applying about the same amount of attention to where he walked, that is, almost none.
Peter was amused to note Alice seemed used to this, as she took his hand in hers and deftly steered him along.
Mostly, I had these two characters planned out ahead of time. I'd been planning to write this novel for about 25 years. I also used Doc Brown in Back to the Future for some of Terence's behaviour.
Alice and Terence's characters, and their steel mill, were early additions to the novel. Terence's ability to develop electric generators powered by gravity is pivotal to the storyline of Peter's efforts to 'restart' civilization.
While Doc Brown was a bachelor, I felt it would be much better to have Terence married, and his wife be a steadying influence. It was good for Alice to handle financial matters as well, an area I thought would be unlikely for Terence to have much concern for. Likewise, advertising. Here's another piece, demonstrating their complementary personalities, and also an example of POV. The context is Peter has just brought his first stack of car wrecks for recycling.
This time, Alice and Terence had no thunderclap to announce Peter's arrival, but it was distinctive nonetheless: a shadow suddenly fell on the road in front. Seconds later, Peter walked through the door, but they were already headed for the door themselves, so he ended up holding the door open for them to go outside. He almost walked into them as they had stopped on the landing. They were staring up at the bottoms of cars, looking like a papered pattern on the ceiling of the sky. Slowly they turned, still looking up, back over the roof of the building. They could see the other edge of the stack, but it was well beyond the back of the building. The stack was larger than their whole building! They couldn't see how tall it was from here but assumed it must be many layers.
Finally, their eyes turned toward Peter. Terence said, “We're going to need a bigger yard!”
There was a long pause while Alice and Terence gathered their wits. Alice turned and started down the stairs, Terence and Peter following. “Let's go introduce you to the day guards!”
Peter smiled to himself as they walked along the road, the 'car cloud' keeping pace behind. It wasn't light glowing around him in the dark, but he expected this would still make for a very memorable first impression.
While they were walking, Terence asked, “Now, about your using gravity to run generators. How big can you go?”
Peter, thinking of the shadow following them, said, “Really big. I don't know if there's a limit to how big.”
Terence stumbled a little as he looked at Peter rather than where he was putting his feet. “But how many megawatts can you generate?”
“Well... Those headlights are about 50 watts, and they need pretty tiny gravity fields.” Pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the cars above with a small smile, he added, “How big the generator is doesn't seem to be an issue. When I was making my lights, I also changed the intensity of the gravity field to make the alternator spin fast enough. I don't know if there's a limit that way either.” Thinking of his bubbles, he said, “I know I can make it far greater than the earth's gravity, so I suspect there isn't one.” Displaying his knowledge of the terms, he concluded, “Megawatts for sure, if not gigawatts. Even terawatts!”
“Fascinating!” Terence continued walking, lost in thought, still applying about the same amount of attention to where he walked, that is, almost none.
Peter was amused to note Alice seemed used to this, as she took his hand in hers and deftly steered him along.
Character voicing
A question that has come up in discussions is about voicing. For my novel, this mostly came from the personalities of the characters, which were mostly archetypical. One of them, his name is Terence, is an engineering-type, very logical and brilliant. Pleasant, but fairly oblivious to social conventions. He's rather abrupt and intense. I even had characters intentionally imitate distinctive phrases of other characters, like Jack the military type repeating "We're gonna need more ..." and Terence's use of "Ah, yes!" Here's part of the scene where Peter, the main character, first meets Terence and his wife.
“Could I see your lights? I love to build things too!”
Peter grinned, walked to the door, and opened it. It was a round knob, so it was difficult for him to turn it with gravity. A few seconds later, his lights streamed through the door in a line. Peter dissolved the bubbles around the lights so they could hear the alternators, then spun them up to turn on the lights. Encouraged by their lack of fear, he let go of the door, and closed it with a bit of gravity as he walked back to them. He was almost disappointed when they didn't seem to notice.
Excitedly, the man asked, “What makes the alternators spin?”
Peter and he answered almost in unison, “Gravity!”
“Do you have to push more gravity into them or something to keep them spinning?”
“Nope. I only stop the spin when I don't need the lights on because they will burn out after a while.”
“So, the gravity doesn't run out after a while?”
Peter thought he'd already answered this question. “No. I set the gravity inside to spin it, and then dissolve the gravity when I want the spin to stop. I've used these for hours at a time and there's no change.”
The man looked stunned. He just started pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. Peter heard some words that were spoken slightly louder. “No change!” “Ever!” “Limitless!” “Revolution!”
After several minutes of this, he slumped into a chair, holding his head in his hands, still muttering.
Since the man appeared to be otherwise occupied, Peter walked the rest of the way to the counter, held out his hand to the woman, and said, “Hi, I'm Richard Piles, but people call me Peter!”
Laughing at the joke, she shook his hand and responded, “Alice Greasley! Pleased to meet you, Peter!” Nodding at the man, “That's my husband, Terence! He's extremely pleased to meet you too, and when he comes out of that coma, I'm sure he'll tell you so himself!”
“Could I see your lights? I love to build things too!”
Peter grinned, walked to the door, and opened it. It was a round knob, so it was difficult for him to turn it with gravity. A few seconds later, his lights streamed through the door in a line. Peter dissolved the bubbles around the lights so they could hear the alternators, then spun them up to turn on the lights. Encouraged by their lack of fear, he let go of the door, and closed it with a bit of gravity as he walked back to them. He was almost disappointed when they didn't seem to notice.
Excitedly, the man asked, “What makes the alternators spin?”
Peter and he answered almost in unison, “Gravity!”
“Do you have to push more gravity into them or something to keep them spinning?”
“Nope. I only stop the spin when I don't need the lights on because they will burn out after a while.”
“So, the gravity doesn't run out after a while?”
Peter thought he'd already answered this question. “No. I set the gravity inside to spin it, and then dissolve the gravity when I want the spin to stop. I've used these for hours at a time and there's no change.”
The man looked stunned. He just started pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. Peter heard some words that were spoken slightly louder. “No change!” “Ever!” “Limitless!” “Revolution!”
After several minutes of this, he slumped into a chair, holding his head in his hands, still muttering.
Since the man appeared to be otherwise occupied, Peter walked the rest of the way to the counter, held out his hand to the woman, and said, “Hi, I'm Richard Piles, but people call me Peter!”
Laughing at the joke, she shook his hand and responded, “Alice Greasley! Pleased to meet you, Peter!” Nodding at the man, “That's my husband, Terence! He's extremely pleased to meet you too, and when he comes out of that coma, I'm sure he'll tell you so himself!”
POV
A question that comes up in discussions is what POV to use in writing. Here is a recent answer of mine on this:
I enjoyed using multiple POVs in my novel. Since the abilities of the main character were so unusual, it made for some humorous situations with people's expectations.
One example is when Peter, the main character, goes out hunting with his new friend. They bring back an elk to the mountain town, Peter carrying the elk, himself and Sam, his friend, much faster than one could walk:
“Harvey, this is Peter.” As they shook hands, Sam continued. “Where do you want us to put the elk?”
Harvey had seen Peter demonstrate his abilities at the meeting last night, but it still took him aback. Holding an elk in the air seemingly effortlessly was so much more than playing with a pitcher of water! “Uh, put it on this table, and I'll take it from here.” Recovering a little of his wits, he added, “Shouldn't you have field dressed this?”
Sam replied, “Fresh kill. Maybe 15 minutes ago.”
“Really? I didn't hear the shot.”
Grinning, Sam replied, “You wouldn't have, this far away.”
Harvey stood there, trying to reconcile what Sam said with previous experience. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, then just got on with the business of butchering.
I enjoyed using multiple POVs in my novel. Since the abilities of the main character were so unusual, it made for some humorous situations with people's expectations.
One example is when Peter, the main character, goes out hunting with his new friend. They bring back an elk to the mountain town, Peter carrying the elk, himself and Sam, his friend, much faster than one could walk:
“Harvey, this is Peter.” As they shook hands, Sam continued. “Where do you want us to put the elk?”
Harvey had seen Peter demonstrate his abilities at the meeting last night, but it still took him aback. Holding an elk in the air seemingly effortlessly was so much more than playing with a pitcher of water! “Uh, put it on this table, and I'll take it from here.” Recovering a little of his wits, he added, “Shouldn't you have field dressed this?”
Sam replied, “Fresh kill. Maybe 15 minutes ago.”
“Really? I didn't hear the shot.”
Grinning, Sam replied, “You wouldn't have, this far away.”
Harvey stood there, trying to reconcile what Sam said with previous experience. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, then just got on with the business of butchering.
March 5, 2025
Falling Up, why post-apocalyptic
There appears to be numerous apocalyptic stories being written in the last few years, coming out in novels as well as movies. While the action is impressive, it seems rather negative to me, having millions of people die in disasters.
To me, a post-apocalyptic setting is better. The story can be about rebuilding, a much more positive choice. It still leaves room for drama, conflict and action, since there will be a lot of lawlessness and tyranny.
In the early days of thinking about my novel, I realized that modern civilization would be a problem for someone who could fly.
- Someone who lands on someone else's property is a trespasser.
- Someone who travels to another country, not through regular methods, without going through customs, is there illegally.
- Someone who carries goods across borders without going through customs is a smuggler.
It would mean my main character would be considered a criminal in many places. That would make it implausible to then write him as a hero, or even a good person.
To me, a post-apocalyptic setting is better. The story can be about rebuilding, a much more positive choice. It still leaves room for drama, conflict and action, since there will be a lot of lawlessness and tyranny.
In the early days of thinking about my novel, I realized that modern civilization would be a problem for someone who could fly.
- Someone who lands on someone else's property is a trespasser.
- Someone who travels to another country, not through regular methods, without going through customs, is there illegally.
- Someone who carries goods across borders without going through customs is a smuggler.
It would mean my main character would be considered a criminal in many places. That would make it implausible to then write him as a hero, or even a good person.
March 1, 2025
My first novel, Falling Up
I thought a good beginning for my blog would be to give some background about my novel.
In the 90s when I was first thinking about writing, I took a distance-learning course for writing for children. I thought that would be a good place to start. At the end of that course, they let me know about their Canada-wide 1999 Writing for Children's Competition.
I submitted a short story based on an idea I had. The requirements were to submit a 500 word short story. I felt like I was sweating blood to get it down to that number. I was one of 66 entries out of 800 to make it to the second round. My story was not one of the 12 which went to the final round.
They did offer some encouraging comments. One was that my story was a "worthy addition to the post-holocaust genre". Another was that "This is an intriguing piece by a skilful writer and I think that this could easily be expanded into a novel." Fast-forward to last year, when I sat down and finally wrote the first draft of my first novel, Falling Up. That short story became chapter one — in a longer form. Those 500 words turned into more than 150,000 words. The 500 words became a more than 500 page novel. The 6X9 paperback is thick!
Here's the introduction from the novel:
The bombs fell, and so did civilization. Anarchy reigned for a while, but strong-willed individuals rose to power among scattered people groups. Some did so for the betterment of everyone. Most did so only for themselves. Add to that, the remnants of drug rings which now have no borders, no one limiting their distribution. It's a very serious situation. Somebody ought to do something about it.
The story idea came from thinking about what it would be like to be able to control gravity with one's mind. Being able to fly is the most obvious result, but there are more things than that, and I explore those and the physics surrounding gravity in the novel.
That short story was for children, so I wrote it as a child. The story then follows the main character through the years of him growing up in a largely frontier-level technology world. Being able to fly means many scenes are in various places in the world.
In the 90s when I was first thinking about writing, I took a distance-learning course for writing for children. I thought that would be a good place to start. At the end of that course, they let me know about their Canada-wide 1999 Writing for Children's Competition.
I submitted a short story based on an idea I had. The requirements were to submit a 500 word short story. I felt like I was sweating blood to get it down to that number. I was one of 66 entries out of 800 to make it to the second round. My story was not one of the 12 which went to the final round.
They did offer some encouraging comments. One was that my story was a "worthy addition to the post-holocaust genre". Another was that "This is an intriguing piece by a skilful writer and I think that this could easily be expanded into a novel." Fast-forward to last year, when I sat down and finally wrote the first draft of my first novel, Falling Up. That short story became chapter one — in a longer form. Those 500 words turned into more than 150,000 words. The 500 words became a more than 500 page novel. The 6X9 paperback is thick!
Here's the introduction from the novel:
The bombs fell, and so did civilization. Anarchy reigned for a while, but strong-willed individuals rose to power among scattered people groups. Some did so for the betterment of everyone. Most did so only for themselves. Add to that, the remnants of drug rings which now have no borders, no one limiting their distribution. It's a very serious situation. Somebody ought to do something about it.
The story idea came from thinking about what it would be like to be able to control gravity with one's mind. Being able to fly is the most obvious result, but there are more things than that, and I explore those and the physics surrounding gravity in the novel.
That short story was for children, so I wrote it as a child. The story then follows the main character through the years of him growing up in a largely frontier-level technology world. Being able to fly means many scenes are in various places in the world.
