Paula’s Comments (group member since Oct 28, 2015)

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

Fine stories, Jot, Gene.
Got mine up now.

Encompassing Meditation

Copyright 2022 by Paula Friedman

It all has seemed so clear. So done—done and dried. Because, you see, I had already borne and begun raising my kids, despite the hardships (or what we who had rarely, in those days, gone out beyond a few A.U.s, called hardships). And my kids would, I knew, despite the bitter, realer hardships like inter-worlds struggles, Dark Hungers, the Clauses—all those fears and near-endgames—survive the latter eras' hazard time.

That was before, of course. Before what soon came to pass—the inter-worlds/inter-species visitations, the “new" interstellar travel, the many many new fears --and then the wide-opened wonder in our widened lives, poor creatures of Earth as we’d thought ourselves. Perhaps most especially--as I soon agreed with my sons (the two who now remain)—perhaps especially in our interspecies Opening and Accord with our Inter-Species Twins, the Meditatants.

Truly what a wonder they were for us, these Meditatants! Silky of fur they were, eyes black and full-pupilled, soft paw-like hands, a grace as of panthers and—what, beyond all else, reached to us and implacably drew us in, holding us close-embraced (as if, as we’ve latterly tended to say, “our outer and their inner lives were one”/“our inner and their outer lives reflect each other"). Indeed, what most has melded our two species so inseparably together has been this clear lucidity between their minds (or “souls”) and our own. For, looking at (looking into, viewing through) the orbs of any close-known Meditatant (“Medie,” as we mostly say), we deep-perceive . . . OUR selves, OUR souls, and souls of our fathers, mothers, children, our beloveds reflected as if seen by Medies through our eyes, reflected by a Mediethrough our mind, . . . as if in some infinite hall of mirrored Eye-Thou human-Medie inner/outer orbs.

Deep-perceiving, that is, All as One.

So there it is—with no outside, of course. As my third son, Rufous, harshly laughed, "What'd you think would happen, 'merging with those hippie-dippie-medie critters? Oy, what schmucks!"--laughing laughing laughing somewhere, in the messaged words of a woman survivor on his last trip outbound (“ship lost far en route to Aldebaran,” as the expression goes, since at first most such losses indeed occurred en route to Aldebaran).

Well, and how we miss our Rufous, I and my surviving sons Rob and Jason, seated around his empty chair. Seated beside the sputtering campfire, hungry as a gopher or cicada on this crowded, desperate, emptying Earth, to which we now are locked—for every time we would think to step toward somewhere else, toward someplace new and fresh, our caring, echoing Meditatants reflect back on us our every intent, our every memory lost and unforgotten, and every recollection-crowded world we’ve known and re-re-mirrored and can, thus, no longer regain—as well as every person we have loved: reflect back, that is, we who are they, their “here” our “there,” with nothing beyond, no way Outside, no means to reach through our/their species' mirror to escape.

[approx.. 498 words]

Pretty cool, Jeremy. I sort of loved this story, actually.

Thanks, J.F.--great theme. and element.

Paula wrote: "How about, for a theme, the word "schmucks" and species with an-every-60-years suicide-compulsion cycle?"

How about, for a theme, the word "schmucks" and species with a 60-year-suicide-compulsion cycle?

Beautifully structured story, J.F. And wonderful twists toward the end. Superb!

Jeremy wrote: "Posted one. Bit of a shaggy dog story. Sorry!"

An excellent piece!

Justin wrote: "Outstanding as always Paula! :)"
Thank you so much, Justin!!!
By the way, I agree with J.F.--your voice is superb. What wonderful work to be so fine at!

Tom, I am honored. Thank you.

Got one in an hour ago--just under the wire. Enjoy, I hope.
Some fine stories in, this time.

Encompassing Meditation

Copyright 2022 by Paula Friedman

It all has seemed so clear. So done—done and dried. Because, you see, I had already borne and begun raising my second kid, despite the hardships (or what we, who had rarely, then, gone out beyond a fewl A.U.s in those days, called hardships). My second kid, too, would, despite the bitter, realer hardships—inter-worlds struggles, species-doubt, Dark Hungers, spared regards, the Clauses, all the fears and would-be endgames—of these latter eras, survive and hazard time for us.

That was before, of course. Before what soon came to pass, all of it--the visitations, the “newness" of interstellar pre-participatory travel, and yes, the new fear yet also the wide-opened wonder in our lives, poor creatures of Earth that we'd thought ourselves. Perhaps most especially, as I used to agree with my sons (the two who now remain), perhaps especially in our interspecies opening—and accord—with our species-twins, the Meditatants.

Truly they were a wonder for us, these Meditatants—silky of fur, eyes full-pupilled black, soft paw-like hands, a grace as of panthers, and what, beyond all else, spoke to, called to, reached to us and implacably drew us in, holding us close-embraced (as if, as we’ve tended, over time, to say, “our outer and their inner lives were one”—or perhaps “our inner and their outer lives reflected each the other"): what most amalgamated us inseparably together was this utter, transparent lucidity between their minds (or “souls”) and ours. For, looking at (looking into, viewing through) the orbs of any close-known Meditatant (“Medie,” as we mostly say), we perceive . . . our selves, our souls, and souls of our fathers, mothers, children, our beloveds reflected as if being seen by Medies through our eyes, reflected through our minds, . . . as if in some infinite hall of mirrored Eye-Thou human-Medie inner (or outer) orbs. Seeing all as One.

So there it is--with no outside, of course. As my third son, Rufous, harshly laughed--somewhere, in the messaged words of a woman survivor, on his last trip outbound (“ship lost deep en route to Aldebaran,” as the expression goes—for at first most losses would occur en route to Aldebaran or Vega systems).

Well, and how we miss him, Rob and Jason and I, seated 'round his empty chair. Seated near the sputtering campfire, hungry as a gopher or cicada on this crowded, desperate, emptying Earth, from which—for every place we'd step toward, our thoughtful, echoing, caring Meditatants reflect back on us our intent, our every care, our memories lost and unforgotten—and those worlds we knew and no more shall regain, and the people we’ve loved: we who are they, their "here" our "there", no more beyond, and no escape.

[approx.. 430 words]

Great use of language and great pacing, as always, Jeremy! It is a story I've read 3 times and can enjoy rereading again. Good work and congratulations to you!

JF and others here--I had heard, around a year ago, of Andy Gurcak's death some time before. My apologies to not have told you before. I only heard of his death through Andy Lake and Elizabeth (EJ) Eyles, two authors who were members of this group in the group's first years. Andy Gurcak was an enormously well-read critiquer and editor, as well as an excellent writer and warm, brilliant person--from the little one can know of someone through their online presence. He had lost his wife but is I believe, survived by his children and grandchildren.

Yes, you've had so very many losses, Thaddeus. My condolences to you and your family.
Very good that you've a pro writing job! And *definitely* send out to pro journals and get yourself an agent, etc.
Good to hear that your wife's recovering.

Some good ideas, Jot and Carrie. I think a zoom round table could be very stimulating, though seriously we shall need to contact and bring in the many fine writers and committed group members from the first few years (2012 to (2016 or so?) when about half of the incredibly creative original group dropped off.

Fine tale, Thaddeus, and powerful writing. I couldn't get back to the Microstories site until this evening, really like the stories from February; yours is terrific. Nice work.

Another excellent story, Thaddeus. Only suggestion I'd make, and it's a mild one, is that you may want to show more (or more quickly clear, perhaps) shift/movement, other than shifts in time or in the readers' comprehension of whose point of view, between the segments,

Well, I agree, Jot, the matter needs far more discussion before any decision.

Powerfully pointed story, J.F.--nice work!