Category: Novels

700th Post!

fireworks1Yes, I know its a bit of an odd number. But I was still pleased and kind of blown away to find out that I was nearing this landmark recently. And I thought, what better excuse for a little retrospective and a chance to say thanks for the support? My my, where to begin? Well, how about the beginning? Since just the other day I was looking back at the first posts I’d made with this site, I think I’ll start there. Seems as good a place as any…

The very first thing I ever wrote on this site was a simple Hello World message. Nothing too flamboyant or special about that one, just the obligatory “how do you do?” It was my second post where I said the things that I wanted to say and really took the time to state what my mission was:

sci_fi“I love science fiction, always have, always will.  But it’s the kind of science fiction that I love which I think is an important distinction. I’ve always subscribed to the idea that sci-fi comes in two varieties: classic and commercial.  The classical kind is the traditional variety that people take seriously… Commercial sci-fi, by contrast, is your basic stuff that owes much to the original masters but really didn’t follow in their footsteps.”

That’s still true of me. I still subscribe to the idea that the real science fiction is the kind that really makes you think and chooses to appeal to the highest possible standard. Might sound elitist, but given the sheer amount of pulp out there that does little more than entertain, I’d say I’m more of a hopeful optimist. I think people are capable of great genius when you give them a chance, and would like nothing better than to create something myself that appeals to the best in us – be it intellectual, moral, or metaphysical.

My first few reviews were really quite simple. I spoke of Frank Herbert – arguably my biggest inspiration – William Gibson, 1984 and Brave New World. I spoke of my own writing and posted some podcasts of Source’s earliest chapters (no longer available), and pasted some reviews my work had received. However, I was nowhere near as prolific as I am today. It was actually quite surprising to see that the first year of my site being operational could be summed up in just over a dozen posts. Especially when I am now at 700 and just over two and a half years into it!

In any case, I began doing movie reviews shortly thereafter, tackling such sci-fi greats as Blade Runner and the Alien franchise, and such guilty pleasures like Independence Day and Starship Troopers. This went on for some time, with me going back and forth between reviewing movies and great books, and once in a while dropping something in about a favorite miniseries, TV show, or something I happened to find inspiring.

brazil53And then something happened. Something which, I gotta admit, I didn’t even know was possible until it happened to me. I got freshly pressed. At the time, I was minding my own business, doing a post about Dystopian Literature, in honor of the fact that I just joined Writer’s Worth and our first project was an anthology of original, dystopian narratives. Feeling inspired by the fact that I was getting a chance to write within my favorite genre, I compiled a list of the most historically relevant and renowned examples I could think of.

That opened the floodgates! Having never exceeded a few dozen views in one day, you can imagine my surprised when I came home for lunch that day and discovered my views numbered in the high hundreds! I checked back as the afternoon progressed, only to see that it had reached into the thousands. By afternoon the following day, the torrent stopped and I was able to take stock of all that had happened. Roughly half my subscribership began following me in that one twenty-four hour period. I got more comments than I knew what to do with and more likes in that one day than the previous year! It felt nice, and I certainly learned something about how this thing called WordPress works!

Since that time, I won’t lie, I’ve been hoping to snag a second FP! No luck yet, but what can you do? Once was nice enough, and since it’s led to my current circulation amongst my fellow bloggers and the general internet-surfing public, I really can’t complain! Besides, several milestones have happened since then, so I shall not linger on this one event. Suffice it to say, as the days and weeks continued to pass, I found my traffic had increased exponentially from my pre-FP days. Not to the point of thousands, but higher than a hundred. That too was nice…

After finishing up the series of Dystopian posts, mainly to address examples other people poitned out and to cover examples of dystopic movies, I began to move onto other ideas. For instance, I had decided it was time to tackle themed-posts, like Cool Guns, Cool Ships, Giant Robots, and the like. These were mighty fun to do and provided endless suggestions from people who knew and liked the same franchises I did, and also saw these lists as an opportunity to stroll down memory lane.

apocalypse-04I also got into serial novel work, as attested to by Crashlands over at Story Time, and posts dealing with futuristic concepts and news. I guess I’d grown a bit tired just talking concepts, books and movies at this point and really wanted to delve into the everday stuff that drives science fiction and the creative imagination that guides people’s writing. At the same time, I continued to pimp any and all work that I was doing with Writer’s Worth, which at this point had morphed into its current group name of Grim5Next, in honor of our first project!

Then came two significant developments, back to back. In June of 2012, I began working with a select group of members from Grim5Next on a new project idea. With the passing of Ray Bradbury and Venus’ transit in front of the sun, it seemed that some of us were bit by the inspiration bug. I can still remember how it all began, in the form of a conversation between my friend and fellow writer, Khaalidah, and myself:

Khaalidah: Four nerds verging on geeks live in my house, of which I am one. One of our nerdiest but fun conversations centered around the question “Would you rather go to space or the bottom of the ocean?” Hands down the answer was space.
I once dreamed that my son, now 21, would one day go to space and walk on Mars. He is no longer a child who dreams of space, although it still intrigues, and space seems a distant childhood dream of his. But even for myself, at the ripe old age of 41, the idea of going to space is a bright hope, even though I know it is unattainable and unrealistic. But, given the chance, I would go.
This post reminds me of the awesomeness of our great universe, of the chaotic randomness, of the beauty of this world and the things we have to be grateful for, and of how utterly minuscule we people really are in the grand scheme of things

Me: Okay, you need to write this down. I foresee you doing a story where a family does go into space. Ho boy, I smell another anthology here!

Khaalidah: An anthology about space, going to space or anything related sounds awesome. I vote for you to be the editor. What do we need to do to get started?”

Yuva_coverThat was the beginning of Yuva. In the days that followed, we two enlisted the help of many people: Goran, Jenna, William, and Melanie. Through much conversation, back and forth and debate, we determined the location of our story (Gliese 581g), the tone, the structure, and even began producing the first few installments. As time progressed, we were joined by more writers – Charles, Danielle and Cara – who wanted to contribute and began scooping up the later installments in the series.

The second development was the rash of face-eating and zombie-like behavior which seemed to break out throughout that summer. Feeling compelled to comment on the sort of hysteria which had set in, I wrote a post called “Bath Salts and the Zombie Apocalypse”. Much like my post on Dystopia, that one earned me quite a few views, thought it was not Freshly Pressed. I am thankful it wasn’t, as I began to feel a bit iffy about getting lots of traffic over a series of rather sick and tragic events. But I knew I had to comment since it was a relevant issue and I had something to say about it. I also swore I’d never publicize the names of the psychos responsible ever again, since I didn’t want to contribute to the buzz that so often surrounds twisted criminals.

Since that times, its been more of the same. Every day, I do my best to maintain the pace I’ve now set for myself, and am happy when plenty of people come by to see what I’ve written and tell me they are thankful that I post what I do. Naturally, I often complain that I should be getting paid to do this, but that’s just talk. No, this is something I’d gladly do for free, though ideally I would love it if it was a source of income so I could write indefinitely and not have to worry about money. My hope is one day that all of this culminates and I can write something truly meaninful and influential. That way, this site will represent a beginning to something truly big, and I’ll be able to share that with everyone who’s been here from the beginning.

Okay, that got a little mushy there towards the end. Suffice it to say, I’m very thankful for all that I’ve been able to do with this site thus far, and for being able to connect with all the people that I have. I hope very much to be able to write as many or more posts before I use up my allotted memory and either have to pay for an upgrade or move to another web address. Hopefully, the whole “getting paid to do this” thing will work itself out before then so I have the option of throwing money at the problem 😉

Rest assured, I aint going nowhere anytime soon. So expect to see plenty of me around these parts. Peace out, and thanks to everyone for stopping by, then and now. Bless you all!

fireworks

NaNoWriMo 2012: A Requiem

tome-of-undeadNovember is finally coming to an end and December is now upon us, which means the following things. It’s time to get the snow gear out, people who have grown mustaches for Movember can finally shave, and NaNoWriMo is officially over. For those who took part in it this year, my congratulations. For those who finished on time, my profound congratulations and respect. As for me, I started, stopped, and then started again. It seems this November I had a bout of temperamental inspiration which led to a weird outcome.

Originally, I wasn’t going to participate, seeing as how I had just finished work on my zombie apocalypse story known as Whiskey Delta. That took me at least a week into the month of November and I kind of felt burnt. Yet at the same time, I was rearing to go on production of the sequel and even got some encouragement to do so. Didn’t seem like a good time to take on another writing assignment. But then I was struck by an idea about the lives of future people who lived in an Arcology, a concept I’d been wanting to tackle for some time.

After coming up with a name – Etemenanki, the name of the Ziggarut that is believed to have inspired the Babel myth – I set to work. However, my passion soon faltered as I realized the idea was not well thought out, and the burden of having to write 2000 words a day sapped my inspiration further. I realized what I wanted to be writing was the sequel to Whiskey Delta – aka. Pappa Zulu – so I shut down Etemenanki and got to work on that instead.

But then I noticed that at NaNo website, you can easily change which story you’re working on by simply changing the title on your entry and resubmitting its basic data. Nowhere, except on the word count feature, does it keep track of the story itself. So I figured, what the hey? I changed the entry name to Pappa Zulu, and began submitting my chapter for it instead of chapters for Etemenanki, and the month of November proceeded. Granted, I lost a lot of time thanks to my starting and stopping, but at least I enjoyed it this way.

As of today, my final word count on Pappa Zulu is 27265 words in length, roughly half of what it needed to be to complete the challenge in time. Ah well, so sad. Better luck next year. By that time, I hope to have my act together on what I plan to write, to start on time, and not change my mind partway through. This is why they say not to change paddles in midstream, you know 😉

The End of HIV?

Since it was first observed clinically in 1981, HIV and AIDS have come to be viewed as one of the most deadly and infectious diseases in history, exceeded only by the Bubonic Plague and Smallpox. As of 2010, it was estimated that roughly 34 million people were living with HIV/AIDS, an increase of close to three million from the previous year. And although accurate statistics are sometimes difficult to come by, due to the fact that motrality rates are especially high in underdeveloped regions of sub-Saharan Africa, it is widely believed that anywhere from 1.5 to 2 million people die every year as a result of the disease.

However, researchers at Caltech have been working on a potential solution which may eventually lead to the development of an HIV vaccine. In recent years, biologists have identified a strain of antibodies that are capable of neutralizing most strains of HIV. Led by Nobel Laureate David Baltimore, the Caltech research team is experimenting with introducing these antibodies into test subjects (lab mice) to see if it would act as an effective barrier to infection.

The approach, known as Vectored ImmunoProphylaxis (VIP), is essentially an inversion of the traditional vaccination method. Previously, researchers would focus on designing substances that activate the immune system so as to block infection via antibodies or attack infected cells via T cells. The VIP approach differs in that it provides protective antibodies from the start, thereby ensuring that the HIV virus is killed before it can develop into AIDS, and providing a respite for the immune system which is usually called on to do the work.

And so far, the results have been encouraging. After introducing the antibodies into a series of lab mice, the researchers found that the mice were then able to generate a high concentration of the antibodies throughout their circulatory systems. When they then proceeded to introduce the HIV virus intravenously to the mice, the antibodies protected them from infection.

Naturally, there were concerns going in that human bodies might not react in the same way as the mices’, either in terms of their production of the antibodies or their resistance to infection. However, Baltimore and his team were sure to use mice which have been known to be more susceptible to the HIV virus than others, and administered doses of the virus that were well in excess of what would be needed to lead to infection. In the end, they introduced the mice to 125 nanograms of the virus, 100 times what would be required to cause infection, and yet still the mice were protected.

For those living with HIV, this is exciting news! Though it does not represent a cure for those already carrying the infection, it does mean that future generations can live without fear of the contracting the terrible disease. What’s more, those who have it will no longer have to fear passing it on, either through sexual intercourse to their partner, or through pregnancy to their children. Yes, with continued testing and some eventual human trials, HIV may very well come to share the same fate as Polio, Tetanus amd Typhoid, diseases which were once considered terribly infectious, fatal, and untreatable.

Source: news.cnet.com

Anthology Sample: The Torch, Part III

Hello again, fellow readers and writers! It’s been a long time since I produced any samples of writing from my group’s anthology, but rest assured we’ve all been busy creating, editing, and illuminating. I myself have been rather derelict in this pursuit recently, having left my prologe story (The Torch) to sit idle for some time. However, I’m back on it now that I’m back in town and have finished work on the latest segment.

I plan to fashion just a few more to finish the piece, which will introduce the larger story, and then get back to recruiting and editing. As it stands, more than two-thirds of the stories have been claimed, one third have been completed, and the rest are still up for grabs. If you’ve been proffered an invitation, consider this your reminder notice. We still need you! I urge you, be the ones to help this vision of the future reach completion before it is too late…

Anyhoo, here is the third segment of Torch, fresh off the press and straight to your laptops, tablets, ereaders or PDAs. Enjoy!

*                    *                    *

The aged mirror’s appraisal of him was less than flattering. It’s ornate brass frame was a thing of beauty, but the tainted glass looked very much as he felt. He finished with his tie, turned to face the room, and moved back in to face the music. Hours of speeches, public addresses, and his own presentation; and yet, he felt that this portion of the evening was the true test of mettle. Walking through the crowd of entrepreneurs, states people and representatives felt like walking a particularly malicious gauntlet. At least when he was on stage he could pretend to be addressing an empty room. The bright lighting made it almost seem as such.

All part of the job description, he told himself. His first stop was to the couple immediately to his left. The Russian Minister of the Environment, Kirill Minksi. Muktari didn’t recognize the woman on his arm; presumably she was someone he was sleeping with, if not his wife.

“Doctor Muktari, quite the lovely lecture,” he said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “It was like being in school all over again.”

“Really?” Muktari said. “Do you mean enlightening or stifling and subject to the idiosyncrasies of a single man?”

Both Minski and the woman on his arm laughed. He quickly turned to her and made the introduction. “Where are my manners? Doctor Magid Muktari, this is Klavdiya Chauchat.”

 “Ah yes, the ballerina?” he said, looking at her with a forced smile. Chauchat made a demure little gesture, something akin to a curtsey. “A pleasure, I assure you.”

“Enchanté,” she replied. She placed her fingers in his hand. Muktari chuckled and planted a gentle kiss on them. How little things had changed. Leading ladies still being escorted by men of power and influence, though now it was to summits rather than balls. At least the décor was still just as elegant, and the refreshments just as expensive.

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk, Doctor,” Minsky said next. “You’re reputation in government circles precedes you.”

“Is that so?”

“Why yes,” Minsky said with a look of surprise. “I attended the symposium in Luxembourg back in thirty-eight. You lectured there alongside Pracha and Suzuki. You were very good.”

“I remember,” he said. That was in the days of the Luxemburg Agreement, where he had been arguing for governments to include water usage and forestation as basic protocols. He had been but a mere player in those days, taking his cue from more senior experts. He supposed that Minsky saw it as a compliment to be mentioning him in conjunction with the others.

“I was discouraged that it did not have the desired effect.”

Minski chuckled sheepishly. He knew exactly what Muktari meant by that. As soon as the talks in Luxemburg ended, Minsky and his fellow Senators went home to vote the Agreement down in the Federation Council. Many of Muktari’s own colleagues spent years in the East trying to clean things up as a result.

 “Well,” Minski said, raising his glass. “Here’s hoping you and your colleagues have greater success this time around.”

Muktari stifled the urge to say something even more impertinent. He had learned some time ago that certain minds could not be swayed, and reminding of them of that fact was an even less worthy enterprise. He issued a courteous farewell to Muktari and even more cordiale one to Chauchat.

One down, he thought. So, so many to go.

That prospect immediately became cheerier when he spotted a familiar figure standing at the bar. A glass of single malt with ice in his hand and a Tamaki in his mouth. And of course, he looked about as uncomfortable as Muktari felt.

Grigore Mazzini, a fellow company man he had seen since their work in Tunisia. He remembered those days fondly, or more importantly, the nights when he and Mazzini would steal away from the array they had been working on to sample the night life in the capitol. Naturally, Zimmerman had decided to send people from other sectors in to represent their company. He was hoping he might find it at some point during the evening, as he was about the only face he both knew and could expect genuine kindness from.

“Dining on ashes, old friend?” he said as he approached. Mazzini looked at him curiously and then laughed when he saw who it was.

“Magid, you old provocateur, you!”

They embraced in front of the bar and gave each other a hearty kiss on the cheek, as was Muktari’s native custom. When they pulled apart, they were sure to complement each other on their choice of wear.

“I see you’ve updated your old vice?” he asked, nodding to the companion in his hand. Mazzini looked at it as well and scoffed.

“Only way I could smoke in here was to ensure the gentlemen at the door that they were vaporizers.” He took a long haul and let out a tiny vapor trail, watched as it disappeared a short distance from his lips. “Ah! And it’s just not the same.”

Muktari laughed and leaned against the bar with him. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for one?”

Mazzini reached into his jacket and produced a case. He raised his glass just as soon as Muktari took one and activated it between his lips.

“Shall I tempt you with a spot of devil’s nectar as well?”

Muktari shook his head. “You know me, one vice at a time. Besides, I need some clarity if I want to make it through the night.”

“Trust me, friend. The only way either of us is making it through the night is with a proper numbing.”

“Hmm, I’d prefer a little morphine, in that case.”

Mazzini let out a great big belly laugh. A few heads turned, but otherwise the festivities were undisturbed. And more importantly, Muktari felt like he was actually beginning to enjoy himself a little. Alas, they both knew they couldn’t hide at the bar forever. As company men, they were here at the behest of someone else, and that required them to network and dialogue as much as possible between presentations. The after-parties were as important as the proceedings themselves when it came to fostering goodwill and securing the cooperation of vested interests. Hell, some would say they were even more important.

After a few minutes of idle conversation, Mazzini changed the course of their conversation. The way he introduced it let Magid know it was a matter of some delicacy.

“I, uh, heard an office rumor shortly before I left,” he said, taking a bit of a pause. “It seems they are looking for someone new to head up reclamation in the Arctic Circle. Out of our offices in Oslo.”

“Really?” Magid said. Not exactly a choice position, as it involved a considerable time on board ice trawlers and visiting monitoring stations in the high Arctic, such as Iceland and Baffin Island. Magid’s heart sank when he realized why the topic would be considered delicate…

“Oh no, you don’t mean –”

“I’m afraid so,” Mazzini said. “Word around the offices was that you were considered the top contender, given your background and rumors that you were kicking up some dirt.”

Magid buried his hands in his face. “Oh dear God, no.”

He felt Mazzini’s hand on his shoulder, heard on the onset of comforting words.

“I’m sorry, friend. I tried to warn you that your predilection for taking the long view and saying what you really thought might get you into trouble someday. Though this is considered a promotion, of sorts, everyone felt that you would surely not fail to get the message.”

“They can’t just fire me,” he said decisively. “They’re hoping I quit.”

Mazzini cleared his throat. “Seeing as how I’m letting you in on things, I should also point out that your last assignment was intended to have the same effect. Who knew you would actually find working in the Maghreb to be fulfilling. After you came back with that your presentation in your docket, I’m guessing they figured a transfer to the opposite extreme might… dampen you’re enthusiasm.”

“You mean chill it,” Magid corrected. “Well… message received.”

Mazzini patted him on the shoulder again. “As I said, my friend. I am truly sorry. If there was anything I could do…”

“I know,” Magid replied with a nod. Alas, they were just a bunch of company men, doing as they were told and going where they had to. Little more could be expected of them. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

Mazzini looked genuinely surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Why not? Seems piety is a little wasted on me right now. Besides, I hear the whiskey is quite good.”

Mazzini laughed, though it sounded tempered. Though he was happy his friend would be joining him in a round, he was a bit hesitant to be involved in his corruption as well. Mazzini needed few excuses to tilt a glass, but anger and depression were good reasons not to in his mind. Still, he called the barman over and ordered two more glasses of what he was drinking.

“Two more Bruichladdich’s please, with ice.”

The barman nodded and went off to fetch their drinks. Many long seconds passed before any words passed between them again. When they did, they sounded about as delicate as before, though arguably more conspiratorial.

“Magid, please don’t look in her direction, but I must inform you that a pretty young thing is looking at you from the far corner.”

Magid sipped from his glass and nodded casually. Adjusting his head ever so slightly to employ his peripherals, be caught little more than blobs of color. For this, he would need more accurate coordinates.

“Which corner would that be?”

“Uh, north-east by my reckoning. Please don’t look at her, she’s still watching.”

“Well…” Magid said, confounded. “Could you describe her to me?”

“Long dark hair, lovely tan complexion, dark dress with a string of precious stones and just enough leg showing to give this old man an injection of frisk.” He swirled the ice cubes in his glass fervently. “I do so hope she’s looking at myself, though I imagine she’s more of what you could use right now.”

Magid chuckled, but shook his head. “Using ladies is not my speed, friend. Besides, I think I’m a little too depressed to be good company to anyone right now.”

“You sure? You’ll change your mind when you see her…”

Finally, and as casually as possible, she looked back in her direction and did a quick spot check. Mazzini was right, in all respects. He caught barely a wisp of her, but she was every bit as beautiful as his friend had let on. Far too comely to be gazing at the likes of them with anything approaching visceral interest.

“I don’t think so. Probably an industrial spy, or our competition, looking to eek some information out of us.”

“At the moment, I don’t care,” Mazzini said, quickly downing his second glass. “And if you’re sure you’re not up to the task, I’m definitely going to approach her. Let us just pray she’s not a professional, working the room.”

Magid frowned and chuckled, more deeply and sinisterly this time. Leave it to good ol’ Grigore to out a dirty spin on things. Leave it to him to leave him high and dry with his depression and the breaking of moral strictures as well. He eyed the glass in front of him and considered sending it back, but at the moment, he needed something to drown his feelings. Taking the glass in hand, he made a quick go of it, and quickly regretted the transaction.

“Whoa…” the barman said, a thick Russian accent discernible. “Another for you, sir?”

“No thank you,” he said, casting a look in Mazzini’s direction. His large frame now completely blocked the image of the stunning young woman. He cast a look around the room, and saw nothing but a night of pointless interaction as well.

Producing a fifty Euro note, he paid for his and Mazzini’s drinks and headed for the coat room. It was going to be a long night, and with nothing more to gained from doing his job, he would spend it doing something arguably less… productive.

*                    *                    *

And that’s section III down, and just three or so more to go! Hoping to avoid stretching those out, as I’m already 6,544 words in and only half-way done, by my reckoning. As you can imagine, I’d like to avoid what I did with Winston Agonistes, which was to break the word count limit by a factor of 2 to 3, depending on which limit I choose to go by. Originally, my group and I had agreed on a 5000 word limit, but we were willing to up it to 8000 in case of necessity. At 15,961 words, you might say I abused that limit just a little. Man, I must like to write ;)!

Game of Thrones Manga?

It’s a valid question, isn’t it? What if the seminal novels of George RR Martin were adapted into a manga-style graphic novel? That’s the idea behind this concept artwork by deviantArtist joscomie, who packed 49 characters from the series into a single, massive scroll.

As you can see, the infographic is plainly labelled, features characters that are up-to-date (as of the release of A Dance with Dragons), and even features such characters as Aerys, the Others, the Direwolves and the Dragons. Pretty cool huh?

For a look at the original print and more examples of joscomie’s art, follow the infographic to the bottom and click on the link provided:

Source: joscomie.deviantArt

Whiskey Delta Complete!

It’s finally finished. After 14 weeks, forty-nine chapters, and 93,741 words (give or take a few), my tale of the zombie apocalypse is finally complete! And now I begin the process of editing the manuscript, doing some promos, and publishing it indie style! And when it’s ready, it will be available on Amazon-Kindle and Createspace, both in paperback and ebook formats.

And just to be a nice guy, I will be making it available for a limited time for free! So stay tuned, I will be making the link and coupon code available for all those who want a free promotional copy. Tell your friends! And while you’re here, maybe you can help me with the cover design and writeup. How’s this look:

“No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow.”
-Euripides

“Ambulans mortuus: noun. Lit. “moving dead” (lat.). A viral strain that appeared in the Western Hemisphere in the early 21st century. Origin unknown. Characterized by high fever and death in infected subjects, followed by reanimation and extremely violent behavior. No known cure.”

New Mexico, the domain of the Rattlesnake, and the Whiskey Delta. For years, the undead have been roaming the countryside, feeding on the living and spreading their disease. But within a small compound outside of Espanola, the men and women of the 200th Infantry are fighting to take back the country. Under the command of Major General Thur, aka. “The Mage”,  they hold the line against the armies of the undead. However, things soon escalate as the Mage discovers an opportunity to end the war sooner than expected. All that’s needed is a desperate mission into the ruins if Los Angeles, ground zero in the war against the Whiskeys, and a land heavily contested by human foes… What could go wrong?

Whiskey Delta Now a Double Novel!

Hmm, I think that title might be a bit misleading. What I mean to say is that my serial novel – Whiskey Delta – which I’ve been posting for the last few months, is now officially twice the prescribed length of a novel. Yes, according to the Science Fiction and Fantasy Novel Writers of America, a novel is any work that is 40,000 words or higher in length. And, as of my last count, Whiskey Delta weighed in at a hefty 82,675 words.

I was really kinda hoping this novel might be the exception that proved the rule. Instead, it’s just reinforced the rule! The rule being that I love to go on and on and can always find a reason to say more, write more, and keep going until they turn the lights off. But some people seem to like what I’m doing with it – you know who you are! – so I plan to finish it forthwith, and word counts be damned!

Speaking of which, it is only a few chapters short of completion. And once it is finished, I will be placing all chapters into a single compendium, tidying it up a bit, and of course, adding more chapters! Yes, after reviewing much of what I wrote I felt some pacing chapters and background might be needed for the sake of turning it into a true novel, and not the sort of thing people read in installments. Brevity, thy name is not Matthew, Williams, or any combination thereof!

I hope people will look for it once it’s complete, and will stay tuned for more on the Whiskey Delta front. Once the first novel is finished, I plan to begin work on the sequel: Pappa Zulu! Yep, I figure whereas the first book was all about the war on the zombies and the mission to find Patient Zero, book two will deal with the race to find a cure, and answer some mysteries that were laid out in the first. For one, it will become clear that the “Mage” is not all that he appears, and that he may have an agenda which goes far beyond fighting the dreaded undead. And of course, the main characters will be back for more action, once they heal from all the wounds I gave them.

Onto more writing and more zombie fiction! Stay tuned, and thanks to all those who have made a point of following my first serial novel on this site. Can’t imagine I could have done it without your support, encouragement and constructive criticism, and I don’t care to either 😉

More News From Gliese 581 g

And here we go again with another news story that comes to us from beyond our world, but curiously (no pun!), not from the Red Planet. It seems that the Earth-like exoplanet known as Gliese 581 g, aka. Zarmina (or Yuva to me and my writer’s group!) has been the subject of some interest as of late. In fact, two stories have emerged about this world, which ranks as number one on NASA’s list of Earth-like worlds beyond our system. And I think you’ll agree, these two stories couldn’t be farther apart.

The first sounds like something out of a novel by Carl Sagan: two years ago, while doing research for SETI, an Australian astrophysicist claimed  he picked up a “suspicious signal” from the vicinity of the Gliese 581 system. Since that time, a number have websites have come forward that claim to have traced the signal back to the Earth-like exoplanet itself. The second story comes from the International Astronomical Union, which chaired a meeting this week and raised doubts about the actual existence of Gliese 581 g.

For those who may not recall, the existence of Gliese 581 g has been featured in the news quite a bit of late, and not just on my site 😉 Discovered in 2010 astronomer Steven Vogt and a team of scientists working out of the Keck I facility in Hawaii. After locating the rocky world, they made two determinations based on their findings which set the astronomical community aflame.

On the one hand, the planet was roughly three time the mass of Earth but was believed to possess the same overall gravity. On the other, it was located within the system’s “habitable zone”, meaning it was warm enough to support life but cool enough to maintain water in a liquid state. Combined with its proximity to Earth, 20 light-years, this made Gliese 581 g the most likely candidate for eventual colonization.

To be clear, the astronomical panel did not dismiss the existence of Gliese 581 g out of hand, but did say that its existence cannot be confirmed as a scientific certainty. According to Francesco Pepe, an astronomer who works on HARPS data at the Geneva Observatory, “The reason for that is that, despite the extreme accuracy of the instrument and the many data points, the signal amplitude of this potential fifth planet is very low and basically at the level of the measurement noise.” So basically, the evidence put forth by Vogt and his team may have been nothing more than echoed signals. Bummer!

So what then are to we make of this news? Either Gliese 581 g does not exist, or it is home to an extra-terrestrial civilization that is sending out signals. In all likelihood, the doubts raised by the IAU are merely a setback, and it will be a few years before we are certain of the exoplanet’s existence. But then again, anything is possible. However unlikely it may be, we might be meeting “Zarminans” in a few generations time. Who knows? Maybe they’ll come find us, flying in tiny saucers and demanding we take them to our leader.

Personally, I hope it happens the way my group and I envisioned it, with colony ships going there within a century’s time and discovering alien life that does not resemble our own by any measure. Any other way is just plain crazy 😉

Word Counts and Serial Novels

Good news everybody! Well, it’s kind of a moot point, but I was pleased to see it happen. After a few months of writing and posting Whiskey Delta on this site, I am pleased to note that it has officially reached the requisite length where it can safely be considered a novel!

As of my most recent publication, Chapter 26, Whiskey Delta has reached a whopping 51,181 words! And based on the guidelines provided by Wikepedia, which were in turn provided from novelist Jane Smiley, anything over 40,000 words is considered a novel-length work. Check it out:

  Classification          Word Count

Novel                 over 40,000 words
Novella              17,500 to 40,000 words
Novellette          7,500 to 17,500
Short Story        under 7,500

Yes, as of the latest posted chapter, Whiskey Delta has reached 51,181 words. And it’s still several chapters away from completion. Don’t know why, but that feels kinda cool. Perhaps it’s something left over from my school days, a time when meeting the mandated word count was important. Not that that’s every been a problem for me. If anything, I’ve been known to go way too long. I really gotta learn to be more concise!

Stay tuned for more Whiskey Delta and a slew of other writing projects!

New Anthology Sample: The Torch (Redux)!

Morning all! Welcome back for another Anthology sample, this time, a revised second installment from the short story “The Torch”. Last time, the story involved a tired and forelorn main character – Magid Muktari, environmental engineer and exoplanet enthusiast – coming home and meeting with his wife. My group seemed to agree that it was well written and faithful to Khaalidah’s original characters, unfortunately it contained details which did not fit with the story’s timeline. In essence, Muktari was not supposed to be married at this point in time.

After gritting my teeth and cursing my jumping of the gun, I erased the whole section and began writing it anew. The resulting section is the result, a homestead in which an overworked, forlorn visionary comes home to a slew of bad news and burdensome responsibilities. In the midst of it all, he contemplates his future and the future of his word. Take a look and let me know what you think:

The lights were already on when he came home. The nighttime creatures were about, singing their evening songs and tending to their nocturnal rituals. He felt the reassuring calm spread over him as soon as the wheels stopped in his driveway, the engine quieting down from its long run. The door raised itself for him and he put his tired feet to the ground, letting out a deep sigh.

“Home again, home again…” It took some effort to get him the rest of the way out. The steps were even harder to manage. It confounded him, how travelling could still be such a draining experience when machines generated all the motion. Perhaps their minds had not kept pace, still interpreting distance in terms of physical expenditure.

He paused on the front stoop and waited for Empathy to scan him. A quick flash hit his eye, discerning his retinal pattern, then projecting a kind greeting in his visual field.

Iyi geceler, Magid! it said. He waved at the sensor, and the door opened.

He made his way to the living room and tossed his jacket and satchel on the couch. His rear end met the cushions a moment later, and he felt himself begin to melt. He was halfway into a blissful fugue state when Empathy activated her living room interface and woke him up.

“Good evening, Magid. I have a number of messages for you.”

Muktari groaned and leaned up. He brushed the fatigue from his eyes and looked at the holographics that were forming in the center of his room. Green, blue and yellow, small dancing alpha-numerics. The words 13 Messages (2 Urgent) hanging in the middle.

“Give me the urgent ones,” he ordered. Empathy blinked and the display changed. He rubbed his head to dispel the headache and missed the appearance of his friends face in the center. It didn’t matter though, since the voice was one he would recognize anywhere.

“Magid, we got a problem over here,” said the face of Serge. “Word is the Memphis City Council is thinking of pulling the plug on the whole MFC concept. They’re claiming budgets, but the higher ups got it in their heads that this is a negotiation tactic. Me? I’m thinking the negotiation team tried to fleece them on land usage rights or something. In any case, someone needs to go out there and allay their concerns. They figure a senior engineer and manager ought to be just the person to do this.”

Muktari groaned again. He had just exhausted himself, skipping over time zones, heading from west to east. Going back west was the last thing he wanted right now. But at least Serge hadn’t given a date on when this was to expected. And he could certainly get away with not calling until the morning. Perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to send someone else in his stead, or maybe Serge himself could be trusted with the task. No one knew the Memphis Floating Concept better than he, and he was sure to be able to put a positive spin on anything the negotiation team was asking for. At worst, he could tell them they were full of shit and to drop the demands, otherwise they would lose the contract.

The second message came up. This one he was ready and watching when the bronzed complexion of Aurelia came on. The summer sun was agreeing with her apparently, though the desert wind must have been a bother.

“Magid,” she said pleasantly. “Sorry to disturb you, but I thought you might like to know. A special presentation is being held in St. Petersburg this Tuesday, hosted by the Arctic Recovery foundation. The board has asked that we send a senior representative to present on behalf of the company and specifically asked for you. It’s not until Tuesday, so you’d have time to prepare.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I know, last minute, but I just heard myself. I hope this doesn’t interfere with your plans. I know you must be exhausted.”

“You don’t know the half,” he said to the image.

“Anyway, please contact me at your earliest convenience. We’re making progress on the Kebili array. Would love your input. Bye!”

The image disappeared. Empathy’s voice returned. “Shall I show the other messages?”

“Summarize,” he said curtly. A short list appeared in the display reticule. There were several messages regarding his choice of homeowner insurance, sat coverage, and offers for cheap aerofare to Mumbai, Atlantic City, Cancun and Topside. Only two were from names he recognized, and only one of immediate interest. Bill, to tell him when he’d be in town next and when they could meet up. And Myrana, no doubt to let him know what she had in mind for their next soiree together.

“Select Myrana, please” he said with some enthusiasm. The message moved to the center of the screen and enlarged. “Play.”

The image of Myrana’s face resolved in front of him, and his heart immediately sank. He knew that look, the look of disquiet, guilt and the burden of coming clean. He leaned back in his seat and waited for it.

“Magid, I’m sorry to do this over the link, but you’re a hard man to get to. I thought it better that I do it here than bother you on your mobile too. Basically…” she took a deep breath, “I think we need a break. I know we both said we were looking for different things when we started this… whatever this is, but I’m at the point where I think I need someone who can make themselves available. I’m sorry, but I can’t be waiting around for someone to decide they’re finally ready for a relationship, not at my age. Feel free to call me when you get this, but if you don’t, I understand. It was lovely, Magid, it really was but… these things can’t last. Bye.”

She kissed her fingers and put them to the monitor. The image disappeared a second later. Empathy’s cluelessly cheery voice came on a second later. “Would you like to review any of the other messages?”

“No.” he said flatly. “Delete all.”

He didn’t need to hear Bill’s message. He was sure his impending trip to St. Petersburg would conflict with it anyway. And in any case, they weren’t that close. Alone, he let out a particularly long sigh and reflected on the timeless truth of the matter. There was situation so bad that you couldn’t make it worse with a dose of personal disappointment. He was learning that for the umpteenth time now.

But at least he had a good’s night sleep to look forward to. He knew Serge and the others wouldn’t fault him for arriving late tomorrow morning. Perhaps some food and a nip of whiskey while he was at it. Pushing himself to his feet, he made his way to the kitchen and began producing the particulars for his impromptu meal.

Rome is burning, he thought as he fetched small tubs of chicken, Cacik sauce and greens from the cooler. Yes, that seemed to be the shape of things. The world was spinning, faster and faster, and no one seemed to be too worried about it. It was like riding a wild beast that just kept getting angrier the longer the rider held on. On the one hand, they were afraid to let go; on the other, they knew they had to at some point.

And yet, here he was, enjoying a meal and a drink and trying to forget about all that. Was that the natural order of things? Was it the case that the Senators of old, he wondered. After looking out upon the decadence that had befallen their once great city, and espying the barbarians who weren’t far from their gates, did they all simply go home, break their bread and drink their wine, and tell themselves that they had done all they could? He had to imagine they did, because when it came right down to it, there wasn’t much else to do. The fight could only happen during business hours, the rest of the time was earmarked for rest and creature comforts.

Yes, the doors must have been crashing down before they realized they were doomed. He was sure it was the same way with the people of Uxmal and Chichen Itza. It wasn’t until all the heads had stopped rolling and the crops had failed that they knew it was time to flee for the wilderness and hope for the best.

He looked down into the tub of Cacik he held and spooned some into his mouth. He had been gone for days and he couldn’t even remember when he had bought this latest bin of sauce. And yet, it still tasted fresh and clean. He checked the chicken and noted the same.

Yes, the gates are coming down and the city is ablaze, he thought. But at least the food is still good. One had to be thankful for small mercies.