Justin’s Comments (group member since Mar 13, 2016)

Justin’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Hello from Houston!

Cleanup work here is hot and hard but uplifting to the families we've visited.

I have a question to all of the contributors of "The Future is Short: Vol. 4"

Are you interested in having an audio version produced?

I asked Carrol about it and she said they did not have the permissions from all of the authors to produce an audio version.

I'd like to offer my services to narrate and produce an audio version for sale on Amazon at no charge. I don't know exactly how Lillicat Publishers parses out payments based on the number of stories contributed, but if it was a similar arrangement would that work?

I'd like to hear back from all the contributing authors with their opinions.

Thanks so much!

Justin

I hope everyone who contributed to "The Future Is Short" Vol. 4 is promoting the heck out of it! :)

Anyway, I'm so pleased to be published with everyone who wrote such great stories!

Best to all!

Great story Chris!

Thanks for letting us know Chris!! Exciting to see it out there...with our names attached!

G.C., your story is hilarious! Well done!

Thank you Tom for this insightful review! I really appreciate it! I had originally planned to cover four different presidents, but of course word count nixed that.

That's also why Kennedy got a shorter segment. But I tried to make it suspenseful and hopefully not too predictable. I did quote verbatim the words of the governor's wife and Kennedy's last words. I actually started stressing about the whole event as I reread the details on Wikipedia.

Anyway, it was a fun story to write and it was nice to actually have an idea earlier this month. I could see each president consulting the box through his administration. It might explain a lot...

Thanks again Tom!

Boxed In

The president read the stained, hand-copied letter accompanying the igneous black box sitting on his desk. For the moment, the glistening curiosity was merely a paperweight, keeping that day’s casualty reports from blowing onto the floor of the Oval Office. He looked over his wireframe spectacles at the somewhat disheveled figure before him.

“Well Mr. Westinghouse,” he sighed, the fatigue telling in his voice. “I appreciate your… discretion in this matter.”

“It is my honor, Mr. President, to continue the long tradition of my family as keepers of the relic.”

“Indeed.” The president’s eye caught dates, names and numbers on the closest report. Its unsecured edges fluttered gently in the breeze. So many young men dead on both sides…
Rubbing his temples, the president leaned back in his creaking desk chair that seemed utterly incapable of containing his lanky frame.

“But I must caution you Mr. President, this is no trifle – as your predecessors have warned. It has certain… Newtonian properties that cannot be escaped.”

“Yes, the letter was quite specific. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction…”

“Not necessarily equal Mr. President!” Westinghouse quickly interjected. “Sometimes better and sometimes worse. I implore you sir, do not underestimate the cost it may impose upon you. It might be more than you can bear.”

“Could it be any worse than what the poor widows of this great nation have patiently borne these long years as we’ve dragged their husbands off to war? Or the orphans who mourn fathers they will never see again in this life? No Mr. Westinghouse, it is they, not I, who have borne the burdens of this war. I shall see it ended – no matter the cost.”

The Oval Office was quiet save for the ticking of the grandfather clock and the faint sound of traffic beyond the open windows.

“You are decided then?”

“I am.”

“Then place your hands upon the box and speak thus…”

***
The president fingered the U.S. Military Telegraph once more, almost expecting it to vanish like the morning mist. Six days had passed since the end of hostilities, yet the stirrings of peace had not revived his soul. He glanced at the lustrous black box on his dresser.

“Are you ready my dear?” asked his wife. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes…yes of course,” he tucked her arm gently under his. “Let’s go to the theater.”

***
The president shifted uncomfortably in his seat, perpetually tortured by his back injuries yet often forced by the demands of office to pretend they did not exist.

“Eh, thank you for coming Mr. eh Westinghouse on such short notice.”

“It is my pleasure of course sir,” replied the sharply dressed and well-manicured guest.

“You understand Mr. Westinghouse, that eh, we cannot allow the Soviets to beat us in the space race. It is not only a matter of national pride, but of survival. Space is the new high ground and we must have it.”

“Mr. President, it has been the long tradition of my family as keepers of the relic to serve in times of national need. Only you can decide what is best for the nation – and how to achieve it.”

“Putting a man on the moon in this de-cade would show the Soviets, and the world, that the United States will pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and success of liberty.”

“You’ve made up your mind then Mr. President?”

“I have.”

“Then place your hands upon the box and repeat after me…”

***
Sitting in the back of the open-topped limousine, the president took in the crowds waving to him and his wife from the side of the road.

The governor’s wife turned to him from the front and commented, “Well Mr. President, you can't say they don’t love you."

“No, you certainly can’t,” he replied.

Suddenly, two shots rang out in quick succession. Instantly the president slouched in his seat, but he watched as his wife jerked spasmodically in the seat next to him. She collapsed in a heap beside him, bleeding profusely from two head wounds.

A Secret Service agent yelling, “Go! Go!” climbed on the back of the limousine, which accelerated out of the motorcade with squealing tires towards the nearest hospital.

“Jackie, Jackie, can you hear me? I love you Jackie!”

As the panicked procession faded away, Westinghouse dug his toe into the dirt on a grassy knoll and slowly shook his head.

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2017
Reviews/critiques welcome

Jack wrote: "Chris wrote: "J.F. wrote: "Chris,
I found Createspace to be fairly straightforward. For my cover, I taught myself PaintshopPro so I could prototype for a paid artist but I ended up using what I had..."

Jack, congrats on getting on Huffpost with Agents of Hope!

Hey Chris,

I just read this quote by Churchill in this multi-part biography I've been readying for a loooong time.

"Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy, and an amusement; then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster, and fling him about to the public."

I thought you might be inspired. :)

“Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.”

― Winston Churchill

Press on, because a yes might be at attempt 151, 152 or 153.

C. wrote: "Carol Fix says she'll release the next TFIS anthology within the next two weeks.

FYI

-C"

Thanks for the update C!

Jot, any idea when the 2016 science fiction in a flash will be published?

My editor did proofreading and true editing. She really whipped my books into line. You might negotiate a fixed price for the whole thing, or a not to exceed threshold. Since my editor was a friend and colleague, I did not want to shortchange her and paid her freelance rate.

In my opinion, you have to commit yourself to spending a certain amount of money - which you might not recoup. Only you can decide what you can sacrifice. I have not recouped my costs, but I'm also not promoting them, going to writer forums, getting on Facebook (basic!!) getting reviews, etc., etc. I simply do not have the time and I would rather get the audio versions done and up. So for me it is a question of time.

Do an inexpensive cover perhaps to start. When it takes off and you're raking it in, then you can redo the cover. :)

Hugh Howey's "Wool" sat on Amazon for four years before it was discovered and took off, generating a lot of income for him. There is no silver bullet. It is hitting multiple social media outlets, doing select banner ads, making author appearances, doing a webcast or podcast, and dozens of other things repeatedly to get your name out there. You need to flesh out what dollars you can spend and decide where you want to spend them. Then execute!!

Chris, here is the website:

https://kdp.amazon.com/en_US

Hi Chris,

I self-published my two novellas through Amazon, which was a very easy and painless process. Really, go online and read about it. It can be as simple as opening an account and uploading a proofed manuscript.

Now, I had a professional editor friend edit both of them and I paid her $60 per hour for editing. That is the biggest cost, but completely worth it. My books may not be the most compelling sci-fi in the world, but they are very well edited and many comments and critiques of them have noted that.

Since they are only in e-book format I did not get or need an ISBN number for them. However, Amazon will also provide those for books you want to make in hard copy. Amazon has print-on-demand for paperbacks, which is what you'll want.

There are no upfront costs with Amazon, and they do provide several tools to help market books. My best advice is to go read about these services and decide if you want to go that route. The royalty ratio is 70/30, with 70 percent going to the author.

Since I am extremely risk averse and wanted to get my work out into the world, this was the route I took for my first two novellas. Now I'm working on audio versions of both to upload through Amazon as well.

Please feel free to ping me offline if you want to discuss, or I can send you my mobile number to talk.

Best wishes!!!

Another great story Chris! Great job!

Wish I had time to take!

Good luck with the rash. I'll be in my safe room.

Mine's up, finally! I think it meets this month's criteria. Anyway, whew!

Blackest Ennui

The Imperium had been at peace for over 15,000 years. Humanity’s heroic struggle into the stars was met by nothing but emptiness upon void. I was the Imperial Historian and responsible for maintaining a continuous link to all its laws, legends and lore for until such time as the Emperor saw fit to release me.

Oh it’s true we had minor disagreements with some of the more… provincial minded leaders of the loyal opposition. Yet the true hallmark of power was diplomatic prowess and the art of noble compromise. Common ground was sought by all, sometimes under the watchful eye of the Imperial Battle Fleet. Nevertheless, it was peace eternal, space unbounded – and boredom without surcease.

That’s when I decided to end it all. Or rather, begin again. Humanity was stagnant. We needed a push. In hindsight, perhaps I went too far.

My name was… is… I cannot remember anymore and it no longer matters.

I am guilty of genocide and here I dutifully record it within the remains of the Imperial Archives.

They will be here soon, and then there will be no one left to remember anything that Man ever did.

***
You see, despite the Imperium’s best exploration efforts, no other sentient life was found in the universe. A few molds and fungi didn’t count. Nor did the exotic creatures swimming through oceans of toxic gases in the stratosphere of gas giants. We wanted to know and be known by Another, someone unlike us.

Our brightest minds determined that if there was no life in this universe, perhaps there was in an alternate dimension. After the first successful dimensional breach there was rejoicing throughout the Imperium. At long last! The possibility of Someone different! Something different than the unending masses of Homo sapiens. But we were wrong – and then the horror began.

***
After only a few exploratory missions through the dimensional breach, the returning teams began experiencing what could only be described as waking nightmares. They became a danger to themselves and others, firing weapons at invisible terrors and engaging in self-mutilation in a desperate attempt to remove unseen parasites. Sedation barely worked and they all had to be restrained and isolated. Eventually, they all perished - painfully. Autopsies revealed nothing except extremely high levels of neurotransmitters and adrenalin.

The exploration program was shut down, no further dimensional breaches were attempted and soon the impetus to try again flagged and failed. That’s when I stepped in.

***
What was not reported, except to the Emperor and the Imperial High Command, was that there had been an incursion by Something or Someone. Symptoms similar to those experienced by the exploration teams were now occurring in an expanding radius from the breach site. People turned on their friends, families and themselves in unspeakable acts that had not been recorded in the Imperium for thousands of years. The civil authorities were soon overwhelmed with swarming, insane hordes that stunners and stingers could not stop. Imperial troops were authorized to terminate with extreme prejudice. The body count rose precipitously.

It was the most exciting thing that had happened within the Imperium for generations – and I was determined to let it drive us out of our complacency.

***
Late one evening after I was excused from my duties, I headed to the research lab where the first breach was achieved. Security was thin and I had the seal of Imperial authority to open every door and expect deference by anyone I met. The dimensional portal was a simple steel frame connected to the building’s fusion reactor. Without a second thought, I threw the switch – it was the only one - and reopened the breach. I watched and waited.

At first there was nothing but blackness, then a sickly green glow began filling the room. That is when I saw them and that is when I understood I had sealed the fate of mankind.

They were our nightmares – in every shape and form imaginable and beyond imagination. With the breach opened once again, their teeming masses poured through to prey on our darkest fears. Imperial peace and Man’s ennui had banished them here, freeing us from the terrors of our own minds yet imprisoning us within never-ending boredom.

I ran screaming from the lab and raced to the safe room in my Imperial residence.

As our nightmares feasted on the docile Imperial populace, they gained strength and form. Enough form that bullets could bite back. Soon, the entire Imperium was burning in war.

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2017
Reviews/critiques welcome

Good stories Jot and Kalifer! I liked them both.