Happy Birthday USMC!

 I was never a Marine, but I respect the Corps. Perhaps it's time to re-read Chesty Puller's biography, "Marine!"

Bad Ass-tronaut!

I've known about astronaut and electrical engineer Christina Koch for several months, but it's only very recently that I learned more details about her life. She's currently the record holder for the longest space flight by a woman, and you can read about her at space.com:   https://www.space.com/record-breaking-astronaut-christina-koch-female-space-records.html

There's a fun interview with her, during which she does a neat microgravity trick. Much more importantly is her perspective on long term spaceflight. And this isn't her first time in extended isolation. In 2004 through 2007 she traveled the arctic and Antarctic regions, and also spent a winter season at the South Pole, where she experienced -111 degree temperature.  She's been a member of firefighting and ocean glacier search and rescue teams. She helped invent an x-ray spectrometer for NASA, among other things.

A cool video of 5 things about her can be found here:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5T37kIEXa8

Number 5 on that list is that she traveled and worked in Ghana – and so did my daughter Jamie! (I admit my wife Ellen and I were not happy about Jamie's original plans for that trip. Ebola was breaking out in nearby Nigeria and Cote d'Ivore at the time.)

Ms. Koch will be returning to Earth on 6 February, and I wish her a very safe flight home. I think I might have one of her descendants show up on Pearson Space Station or elsewhere in the solar system for my follow-up to my MG/SF novel The Other Side of Space. I already have Dr. Maggie Jemison in the first book – a fictional descendant of the real astronaut Dr. Mae C. Jemison. (Maggie saves Jason's life, by the way, and helps him to save... oops. You'll just have to read the book!)

Writer's...Flood?

I'm not a prolific writer. I have three completed novels, and many short stories, but it's taken me many years.

I know that's much more than a lot of folks who say, "I want to be a writer," but much less than others.

My day job is running my own small engineering company a) which I love, and b) at which I've been reasonably successful. That and raising a family takes time, so it's not surprising that I don't have more fiction accomplished.

But I also love writing. So much so that I currently find myself in kind of a strange position: I have too many projects that I'm interested in pursuing, and it's a bit paralyzing. What's the opposite of writer's block? Writer's flood?

The three completed novels are all meant to have at least sequels, if not be the first of series. Nevertheless, I've also started two new novels. The first is an adult mainstream story based on my time as a disc jockey in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

The second is a ghost story based on Filipino mythology of Babaylans (sort of shamans) and some really fascinating evil spirits. As I've done more research, I'm getting interested in contacting and talking to whatever relatives I might have in the Philippines. My father was one of eight kids who came from the Ilocos Sur region. Perhaps my daughter Jamie will come through with the Fulbright she wants to pursue and work there for a year.

But what about the sequels to my first three novels?

I've always maintain that I won't work on those until I sell one of the first ones, but dammit, ideas for those are now starting to push for more room in my skull. I need a contract to just simplify things and help me choose a direction!

Any takers?

You Can Always Do Better, But…

I make my living as an optical engineer. I've been doing it for many years. During the first half of my engineering career I worked for other companies before starting my own.

During the time of working for others, I observed the very common tension between engineers and salespeople at companies that develop products. The old saw goes that engineers say the product is never ready to be released, and salespeople sell it before the first drawing is done.

Obviously reality lands somewhere in between.

Writing does too. One difference is that the writer, alone, is both engineer and salesperson. The writer has to finish writing something. Sometimes you never think it's done. Sometimes you're so fed up with it that you wish it would simply go away.

I write, re-write, re-write, get critiqued in group, re-write. Then sometimes I let my writing sit for a while, maybe weeks, maybe months. When I pick it up and read with fresh eyes, I usually find a way to make it better. Sometimes I also realize that despite my lack of commercial success (so far), I can be pretty darn good, on occasion.

But I don't do this more than twice. My inner salesman yells, "It's finished. Next!" And he's right. You can always do better, but don't make one story your life's work. Polishing brings diminishing returns. Writing IS.*

*with apologies to Robert A. Heinlein.

My Father's Age

It occurred to me recently that I'm the age my father was when I was born. Most people experience this, and I have no new insights or revelations about the experience. It's just something rattling around in my noggin, and so I'll add a couple of pictures of him:

This first one is with his brother Manual (Uncle Max) on the right. As my own brother said, they look like a couple of Filipino gangsters.

The second one is with my mom. My father died when I was two, and so I only know him through stories other family members told me. Looking at this picture, and knowing of the times, I begin to appreciate more the difficulties that they both had with being a couple and raising their children. My mother never talked to me much about this. I may have been too young. Or perhaps it was just the way things were and they simply carried on without complaining loudly about it.

Lois Mc*MASTER* Bujold

Many years ago my friend Helen Kourous turned me on to Lois McMaster Bujold's truly great Vorkosigan saga. Like a lot of people, I devoured them rapidly. One of the nice things about being late to the literary party is that you get to read, read, read – picking up one wonderful book after the next. It's binge-watching before there was such a thing.

Several years later I re-read the saga. Now I'm near the end of my third reading, having just finished Diplomatic Immunity. If the epic has aged in any way, I'm certainly not sharp enough to notice. It remains a Hall of Fame-type collection and I cannot recommend it highly enough. Beyond the heart-palpitating adventure is the deep humanity, pain and love, despair and exultation, and all the places in between.

To be clear, I did not love Cryoburn, and I've yet to read Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen. Nevertheless, the saga is a wonder, and Ms. Bujold deserves all the accolades she's received for the tales.

But did she sit on her laurels? Of course not! She went on to produce the excellent Curse of Chalion series, and then the Sharing Knife series. This woman is a WRITER. She has more I-Wish-I'd-Written-That books than any other person I know.

And she's still doing it! Just within the past half year I've caught up to her Penric novellas, set in Chalion's world of the Five Gods. And by those gods am I having a great time.

If you haven't read Bujold, do yourself an enormous favor and get started—now!

Still Not Complete Failures as Parents!

My son Alex is on his high school's varsity Quiz Bowl team. He's not the Captain, although he does hold the unofficial title of Field Marshal. (He's self-commissioned, but his coach agreed.)

He seems to really enjoy the intellectual competition, but more so with himself. Nevertheless, Alex has a trait that I quite admire: Whether he wins or loses, at almost any game or challenge, he tends to have fun.

During the team's most recent tournament, they won all four of their matches, and Alex reported that he had done particularly well. "I really killed it today." He also spoke of his considering the opposing players, and how they might look at his enthusiastic play and think, Sure, it's easy to have fun when you're winning.

Then he told us of the realization that he had: It's not that he was having fun winning, it's that he was winning, in part, because he was having fun.

Some people never realize this. Fortunately, many do.

Ain't Too Old to Die

The summer wanes, which is another way of saying that it's dying. Wanes is a better word, but I needed a segue into my topic: Death. To be more accurate, my topic is the fear of death. To be exact, how good it is to share with my kids escaping falling to our deaths.

As a husband and father, I wisely seldom go out of my way to place my body and life in jeopardy. This summer has been an exception.

In Scotland, on the Isle of Skye, there's an area called The Quiraing, which should always be capitalized. According to IsleofSkye.com:

"As part of the Trotternish ridge it has been formed by a massive landslip which has created high cliffs, hidden plateaus and pinnacles of rock."

It's also one of the most beautiful natural areas I've ever seen. No matter what I wrote, I'd not do it justice. Neither do these reduced resolution pictures, but it's the best I've got.

The Quiraing

The Quiraing

The Quiraing is also considered one of the Great Walks of Scotland. My daughter Jamie, son Alex, and I took that walk this summer, while my wife wisely relaxed.

Stunning, breathtaking, and a dozen other words come to mind for The Quiraing. So does the word dangerous. We veered off the main trail a bit. Okay, we veered a lot and found ourselves climbing up the side of a large mass of crags that I've come to find is called The Prison.

The Prison

While ascending, it occurred to all of us that going up was certainly going to be easier than going down, at least if we took the same steep, narrow, gravelly path. Nevertheless, we soldiered on. It was an adventure! Besides, there was bound to be a better way down on the other side, right?

About three fourths of the way to the top we noticed a second path heading down, but it looked "sketchy" to us. No, that wouldn't do. The path we were on had to go someplace better, so we followed it.

Many heaving breaths (mine) and a few bruises and scratches later, we arrived at the top. The view and the feeling was glorious.

View from the top of The Prison

We indulged ourselves for a good ten minutes, and then finally decided to find the "good" path down. My daughter noticed a gap between two rocks and crawled over to take a look. She poked her head into the gap, and then pulled back. "No way!"

It was a sheer drop of mebbe 50 to 70 feet.

We scrambled around and found another near drop. Not quite as sheer, but still un-traversable by non-goats.

That only left the "sketchy" path. And indeed it was, including a descent down a very steep rocky gully that we had to climb facing out, otherwise we couldn't see any foot or hand holds. The traverse wasn't long, just terrifying. My twenty-three year old daughter went first, then my seventeen-year old son, with me bringing up the cowardly rear.

Obviously we survived, and exuberantly congratulated ourselves. "Wait until Mom hears we almost died!"

But wait, there's more! On our way back, I made a tiny stumble along a narrow trail and fell. On a sidewalk, or woodlands trail, the consequences would at worst be a twisted ankle and scraped knee or hand. But this was The Quiraing, and by inches I missed tumbling down a hillside to die amongst the scattered Scottish sheep some 200 feet below. I felt great!

Flash forward several weeks when my kids and I celebrated Father's Day about a month late. And how did we do this? By once again subjecting ourselves to a possibly-not-death-defying fall.

The Toledo Zoo has a new and wonderful Aerial Adventure Course that includes options such as ziplining, an aerial ropes course, and a short (30 feet!) jump while you're connected to an arresting device that works kind of like a gigantic retracting tape measure. Another option is the Flight Line which is an 80 foot jump! We also voluntarily faced that bad boy. (No pictures follow because you're not allowed to carry cameras, phones, etc.)

Here's the set up for the 30 foot jump: The arresting mechanism (giant tape measure) is above your head at the edge of the platform. You look up and see the probably well-built device and obviously sturdy mounting brackets. The course attendant attaches the arresting cable to your harness. You see the cable leading up to the tape measure. Everything makes sense. Just step off the platform and fall – then immediately get slowed by the wonderful mechanical system and gently land below.

Here's the set up for the 80 foot drop of the Flight Line: Stand at the edge of the platform. The attendant connects the cable to your harness. The other end of the cable goes down, below the platform, out of sight. Even if you look down, you can't see where the cable goes. Is the cable actually connected to anything? Possibly not. In theory it is, with about 20 feet of slack. That's right, there's a 20 foot free fall to look forward to.

Once again, my daughter Jamie goes first. I think we should have given her the middle name of Intrepid. It takes her about a minute to work up to the jump, so I know that doing it isn't all beer and skittles.

My son Alex goes next. The bastard takes about five seconds on the platform before dropping out of sight. But that's good, right? It can't be that scary.

My turn arrives, and I stand at the edge, looking up at the sky and definitely not down. Dread diffuses through my body.

I imagine the hundreds of hours of engineering time that went into designing this system. Even though I'm an engineer myself, I have faith that the system was over-designed by at least a factor of four. Nobody would take a chance on the system being able to fail.

On the other hand, the engineers aren't the people who built or maintain or operate this horribly flimsy rig. Seriously, the other end of the cable might not even be attached to anything. I didn't hear Jamie or Alex after they went over. They could be dead already. My dread begins to coagulate into a solid, frozen mass.

I turn to the Death Guide, a cheerful looking young lady. "What's your name?"

"Caroline," she replies. "What's yours?"

"Spencer."

We chat some more. She makes assuring sounds. I stare at clouds. She reminds me that although I don't have to jump, my daughter and son are waiting for me at the bottom. Yeah, likely imitating very thin pancakes.

After what feels like mere seconds, and in reality must be more like five minutes, I step out, feel my dread focus and sharpen into a terror punch to the gut…and fall.

I honestly don't remember anything about the free fall itself, but I do remember the slowing down and tilting back at about a 45 degree angle. And then landing gently on my back and feeling relief burble up and tumble all over.

The best part was the aftermath, laughing and talking with my kids. "That was terrifying!" "Can you believe it?" "Oh my god, that drop was sooo much farther than I expected!" "I'm so glad we did it!"

It's marvelous knowing that I'm not yet too old to risk death, real and imagined, to experience an adventure with my children.

World Fantasy Convention 2016, Uber Corgi, and Serendipity

This is a partial report on my doings at WFC in Columbus. I only attended Friday and part of Saturday this year.  My original intent had been for longer. Unbeknownst to me, however, cosmic forces far beyond the understanding of mere mortals intervened.  My dear Chicago Cubs made it to the World Series! That forced an adjustment to my shedule, as the Brits say.

I had a nice time driving down from Toledo to Columbus with Marc Tassin. This was the longest conversation we ever had, and we both learned things about the other and laughed a bit. I caught up briefly with Beth Vaughan, who’d already been in Columbus for a couple of days. She’s writing her fingers to nubbins working on SOMETHING NEW.

Friday night I hung out at the bar. With my daughter Jamie. We watched the Cubs and Indians play game three. We had dinner elsewhere, and then settled in to watch baseball. Jamie doesn’t really care for baseball. She doesn’t drink alcohol, except for an occasional glass of wine. The evening’s result? It was great! I couldn’t have had a better time or company.

Saturday was kind of the usual con stuff, although World Fantasy is really more of a pro convention than many others. I met Maurice Broaddus, who has been a nice addition to Marc’s GenCon Writers’ Symposia. I got knocked out in the art room by a painting titled The Sanguinary Innocent by Jarrod Erik. I was tempted to make an offer, although with a minimum bid of $1,400.00 I would have been persona non grata upon arriving back home.

“But just look at this. What stark beauty. What power.”

“What the in the ever loving HELL were you thinking?”

What I DID buy turned out to be even better, and all it cost was $15.00. While perusing the dealer room, I noticed a cheerful fellow behind a table hawking his new collection of short stories with some illustrations. As part of his pitch he offered to do a custom pen and ink drawing of any beast you could name.

“Any beast?” sez me.

“Any beast. What do you have in mind?”sez cheerful writer/artist.

“Well, years ago my son came up with the concept of Der Uber Corgi. It’s a big Corgi wearing a World War I spiked German helmet.” (The helmet is called a pickelhaube, btw, and Der Uber Corgi’s nemesis is The Iron Ostrich. But that’s a story for another day.)

“Heh. Sounds cute. Big Corgi.”

“I mean BIG, like Godzilla-sized, laying waste to the city.”

So, I pay my $15.00 for his book, and then wander the room awhile as he works. (I never liked people looking over my shoulder when I was building cabinets.)

I do hear him giggle a couple of times. When I return, he’s finished the piece, and he seems very pleased. He tells me it was a lot of fun. I take a look, and I’m seriously stunned. It’s not what I was expecting, because it’s pretty much exactly what I was hoping for, only even more so. I find it hard to tell him how pleased I am, and I know my son Alex will love it.

The writer/artist is a fellow named Jerome Stueart. (Yes, that’s the correct spelling.) His book is titled The Angels of Our Better Beasts. And his stories are TERRIFIC! I won’t go into any review here, but I can say that if his drawing was the cake, his stories are the best butter crème coconut frosting I can imagine. Alex loves coconut frosting.

I almost didn’t go to World Fantasy this year at all because of the Cubbies. Alex and I had watched every game of their playoff run together, and the World Series, of course, is the epitome. How could I miss one of those games with him? Now I’m so glad I did. Even with no other consideration, spending the evening with Jamie, and then discovering Jerome Stueart and bringing Uber Corgi home was so, so worth it!

Saving the World

My daughter Jamie graduated from The Ohio State University this month with her degree in Public Health. Yep, she’s a Buckeye! While she loves the school, in truth I honestly think it wouldn’t have made a large difference where she attended. Jamie would have taken what she needed and wanted from any institution.

Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s not demanding or pushy; far from it. Her faults might include not being sufficiently assertive sometimes. It’s a minor issue that many people have. Some don’t think it’s a fault. They’re probably right.

My point, however, is that while she’s not demanding or pushy, she is determined and persistent.  As Calvin Coolidge said, “Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.”*

She usually won’t go through an obstacle, but she will arrive at her destination, however long the road.  In almost every case that place is where she intended, but if not, she’ll still find good things about it. Next highway? Graduate school for Epidemiology.

One of her goals is to save the world. She never stated this to me, but it’s quite evident. It’s also naïve in the way that young twenty-somethings often are. Still, she has a very good head, and she continues to better understand the reality about a lot of the world’s problems.  During a recent trip to Ghana, she learned a lesson in helping people in a way that’s sustainable. Teaching fishing versus giving fish.

She and I disagree politically on many things. Yet at our hearts, we both know how important it is to help others, keep a clean sandbox, and build for the future.

Jamie will help save the world. We all can.


*"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent." -- Calvin Coolidge

10 Cloverfield Lane!

My wife, my son and I just got back from seeing this movie and I had to tell someone. The centers of our theater seats are prolly still puckered from how much and how tightly we clenched. I won't give anything away except that I can't recall seeing a movie with more cold-sweat tension than this one. It beats out Alien by a considerable margin, with just three people in a bunker.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead is brilliant, and her character Michelle might be my new hero since Ellen Ripley retired. John Goodman is the personification of the biggest roller coaster that you can just bear to ride.

The ending...will no doubt lead to much discussion. It's not a perfect movie, but certainly one of my new favorites. I highly recommend it, although see it with someone you can hold hands with.

Answered: Why do I have to learn this?

I just ran across an amazing essay by physicist Ethan Siegel titled, Why do I have to learn this? It's a wonderful piece of persuasive writing that must be shared.

Ethan has a very good blog called Starts with a Bang in which he answers mostly science questions in an informative and entertaining way. I like his breezy style, which usually never shorts the reader on facts, but still keeps the eyeballs moving quickly. With rare exceptions his posts are uniformly excellent.

As a parent, former student, and former physics instructor, I find his latest piece to be a true marvel. It's easily the best answer to the age-old student question that I've ever read, and I wish I'd written it. I think every 5th or 6th grader should read it, and then read it again in high school. No doubt some kids wouldn't be moved, but they should all be given the chance.

His full essay of the subject can be found here. Enjoy!

GenCon 2015

GenCon 2015 has come and gone, and I have a few observations or comments.

First of all, Marc Tassin did a truly amazing job organizing and running the Writers Symposium. It gets better every year, and I'm proud to call him my friend and fellow writing group member. Terry Brooks was the Big Kahuna Guest of Honor this year, but there were so many other talented and pleasant guests.

I didn't attend many panels this time (more on that below), but I do want to mention how much I enjoyed Geoffery Girard's presentation on "Query Letters, Pitches and Synopses." This was aimed at writers who have a novel ready or nearly ready to start pushing on an unsuspecting world of agents and editors. As Geoffery himself admits, the information and advice in his talk isn't new, and you can find it in many places. His presentation, however, was energetic, well-organized, joyful, and most importantly useful! The best part for me was the exercise of writing the infamous "elevator pitch", and then practicing it with all the other people in the room. We did this many, many times, including repetitions during which the listener purposefully interrupted your pitch with questions. Speaking for myself (and prolly most of the other students), it got easier every time. By the end of the pitch session I was very comfortable, and happy to field the interrupting questions. Great job, Geoffery! If he repeats this talk at GenCon or anywhere else, I highly recommend it.

I also attended the "What Editors Want" panel with Jim Minz of Baen Books, and Marco Palmieri of Tor, among others. I won't delve into the details, but I must repeat a quote that Jim read out loud near the end of the session. It's from Calvin Coolidge:

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."

This is so flippin' true that it should always be included when printing The Law of Conservation of Matter and Energy. My life is a testimonial to this. Take it to heart!

One more little note about the Symposium. I got to meet Kameron Hurley again, and deliver my apology in person! (See my previous blog entry with her name in the title.)

Okay, the reason I didn't attend many panels was because I wanted to spend more time with Alex, and simply have fun together playing games and gawking. On that account, the trip was a complete success! I look forward to next year, but we gotta get a room closer to the con.

Toadless in Toledo

I like playing Scrabble. The intellectual challenge, while narrowly focused, is almost always enjoyable. Sure, there are times when you're staring itchy-eyed at a rack full of i's and u's, cursing the gods of distribution, and wondering what's new on Netflix. But mostly I look at such circumstances as an opportunity to be creative and clever. From such desperate times words like VUG and TUI are discovered.

I really like playing Scrabble with my friends George and Tom. The mental challenge remains strong, but the geeky fun of discussing words and etymologies, real and fanciful—especially fanciful!— can be as much fun as a drunken game of spoons.

And then there are the weird discoveries. According to The Official Scrabble Players Dictionary (OSPD), Fifth Edition, there is a remarkably small number of objects or feelings you can be without. For example the word TOADLESS exists, meaning "Having no toads," but there is no entry for FROGLESS. Apparently one can never be without frogs. There is an entry for FISHLESS, but not FOWLESS. Nor can you be CATLESS, DOGLESS, COWLESS, PIGLESS, or CLAMLESS. Somehow each of us always possesses at least one of these animals, and myriad others.

You can also be LOVELESS, but not HATELESS. It seems we must retain at least a dab of hate at all times. That would explain a lot.

You can be SUCKLESS, although inexplicably that is defined as "Having no juice." Let your mind wander.

There are far too many other examples to count. (The OSPD usually doesn't have words longer than 8 letters, so we may never know if one can be GIRAFFELESS.

What's the point of all this? Not much except whiling away a few spare minutes. I do wonder about the circumstances that led to the need for creating the word TOADLESS. "Excuse me, but I'm lookin' for a load of toads? You got any?"

Maybe some things are meant to stay a mystery. I guess I'll turn my mind to other fascinations, like the word REBOZO. Yeah, that's real.

The Other Side of Space: 2nd Draft

I finished the second draft of my MG/YA science fiction novel a couple weeks ago. Alas, it was too late in the year to follow Dave Farland's example. He says that he'll go to a grade school or middle school and work with teachers who will ask their students if they want to read the book. Dave will pay each student to read and simply mark any words that he/she doesn't understand. Once all the participants have done this, he'll meet with them, and it usually leads to an active discussion about all aspects of the book. He says it works very well.

Unfortunately the school year is over. Still, my number one target audience (my son!) now has the book in his hands. I've never been more anxious about someone reading my work. I'm trying to keep myself from pestering him about what he thinks so far, but it's tough. I've been keeping busy with other projects, as well as getting back on the agent-research train.

Part of that research has included reading more MG/YA/SF (runnin' out of letters here!), with my most recent being Marissa Meyer's Cinder. I'm about two-thirds through the book, and it's been a terrific read. The story is a creative twist on Cinderella, with the heroine being a cyborg in a world where they are property. I won't give away plot points, but Ms. Meyer has so far very nicely succeeded in 1) making me care about Cinder and 2) cranking up the tension with multiple instances of jeopardy and emotional suffering for her. Good job!

God's War by Kameron Hurley

I owe Kameron Hurley an apology. She doesn't know me, doesn't know about this debt, and likely wouldn't recall if I told her. Still, I do.

I met her, briefly, at WorldCon in Chicago almost three years ago. She was a panelist on something—a promo for Nightshade Books if I recall—and at the end she had a copy of her debut novel God's War to give away. I turned out to be the lucky recipient, but before she handed it to me she asked, "Are you really going to read this?" To which I replied something quick and positive like, "Absolutely!"

I read the first page or two that evening in my hotel room, but then I put the book aside. It hadn't grabbed me by the throat immediately.

About three weeks ago I finally picked her novel up again. I gave it a second chance, and I'm happy to report that it was well worth it.

This isn't really a review, and I don't want to spoil anything for the odd person who might actually be reading this, so I won't give much detail. I will say that Kameron paints a truly fascinating world on a planet inhabited by the spiritual descendants of Muslims, who use bug-based biotech for much of their needs, and who are engaged in a very long war.

Having just written that, I realize that it would be easy to think the book was primarily a milieu-type novel.* This is when the special world of the story is dominant.

What I read, however, is an action-y book about characters and relationships, with some complexity and mystery to the plot. In fact, I would have to say a bit too complex, or at least too mysterious. A fault I find with the story is that some characters and events are shaded too much, with insufficient explanation. I found myself wondering on a few occasions, "Why did that just happen? Who the heck is she?"

I get what Kameron was doing. The technique of showing events as they happen, without explaining everything at the time, makes for a more realistic story. She used this very effectively with significant portions of the back story of the main character named Nyx, and at least one other. Yet she over did it in several other places. (Whether or not she meant to is another question.) This didn’t stop me from reading once I got momentum, but the road could have been just a bit smoother.

What more than makes up for the road bumps, however, is the depth of characterization of Nyx, and some of her team. She is a tough, driven, sometimes-bounty hunter, yet very far from a stereotype. She's drawn gradually and completely, with multiple blended aspects of her personality. Just like a real person. She's admirable and detestable. She's intimidating and pitiable. She's the best friend to have at your back, and the worst. She's strong, and vulnerable, and wise, and stupid.

There's one scene in which the ruthless killer Nyx is comforting her friend and teammate while he goes through a particularly humiliating full body search. That may not sound like much, but for his situation and culture, the process is agony, and Nyx knows it. She can't truly help him, but she stays by his side, softly doing what she can.

I read that scene three times when I hit it, and thought to myself, "Wow. I wish I had written that."

Then I finished the book. As I already said, it has some flaws that didn't need to be there. But it is powerful, and compelling, and it makes me wish that I had written the character of Nyx.

So, I apologize to you Kameron Hurley, for taking almost three years before reading the novel that you gave to me. And I thank you, sincerely, for providing an experience that I expect will stay with me for a very long time.


*See Orson Scott Card's M.I.C.E. quotient. http://triton.towson.edu/~schmitt/311/pages/tsld004.htm And if you're a writer, I highly recommend his books Characters and Viewpoint, and How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy.

Terry Pratchett walked the black sand

He made death less scary, and life much happier.

The Other Side of Space Completed!

Okay, so it's only the first draft, but it feels fantastic. The final fourteen to fifteen chapters (out of forty-one) went pretty quickly. More importantly, I enjoyed writing them more so than any other large chunk of text I ever produced. I'm not saying it's my best work, but I had such fun writing it, even the more challenging bits.

I'm feeling a strange mixture of pride, relief, and to a certain extent a little bit of loss. I'm reminded of what Churchill said about his History of the English Speaking Peoples.

"Writing a long and substantial book is like having a friend and companion at your side, to whom you can always turn for comfort and amusement, and whose society becomes more attractive as a new and widening field of interest is lighted in the mind." --  From Churchill's The Gathering Storm.

Not that I'm suggesting my little fiction story is worthy of even cleaning up Mr. Churchill's cigar ashes. It's simply the idea of a long piece of writing being a friendly comfort that resonates. Of course my friend and companion is still there, patiently waiting to have his face mashed and his limbs twisted as I begin the second draft, but it's not the same thing as fresh creation.

I hope to finish the re-write in short order, and then present it to my son Alex. I wrote this one for him.

Forbidden Island, Universe Sandbox, and Falling Pianos

George, Alex and I played a game of Forbidden Island last Saturday night. This is a very good game in which all the players must work together to a) retrieve four treasures from the island, and b) escape the island together. Meanwhile, the island is trying to kill you by flooding!

The cooperation aspect is unusual and a nice change of pace from most games. As in real life, however, even well-meaning teammates can occasionally grind each other's gears, especially under the pressure of imminent death. It can be remarkably intense -- but very fun! -- for a cooperative game that lasts maybe a half hour.

One thing we've learned in about ten different sessions: We always discover a new rule or detail of the game. I'll admit that the rules aren't super simple, but neither are they a complex web. Nevertheless, we've never failed to be surprised by some little feature. For example, we just realized that each treasure can be picked up at either of its two possible locations in any given game, even though there is only one treasure figurine of each type. We've dubbed this "quantum entanglement of treasures." We didn't exploit this feature, and Alex hates it, but it's there and we'd always missed it before. Maybe we're just dense.


A couple of years ago I bought the Universe Sandbox astrophysical simulator. I also purchased Newton's Aquarium, and another program whose name I can't recall at the moment. U-Sandbox is my favorite. I'm a physics geek so I'd have wanted them anyway, but I specifically went looking for easy software to help me work some problems in The Other Side of Space. I did so when I was first outlining the book, and it gave me a good jump start with the plot. Now that I'm closing in on completing the first draft of the novel, I've had to dive into the sandbox again. (Things change during writing.) I won't spoil anything of the book here, but I just crashed a 500 kiloton teapot onto the Moon, multiple times! If you have clear skies, you might see the impact craters next time you look.

One interesting observation I made is that your initial velocity doesn't have as much affect on your impact velocity as one might think. For example, suppose you start from the radius of the Moon's orbit and you drop a tungsten piano onto the Earth, maybe with the Coyote as your target. When it hits his head, it will be traveling about 11.1 kilometers per second. This is almost enough to kill him. (By the way, this is just slightly less than escape velocity for Earth.) On the other hand, suppose you throw the piano down really hard, at 5 kilometers per second? The Coyote is done for, right? It must hit him at 16.1 kilometers per second. Except it doesn't! It brains the poor slob only doing about 12.2 kilometers per second.

I leave it to the student to think about why this should be the case. Don't worry about details, unless you're really interested, just the general concept. I'll offer this hint: A constant acceleration (or an accelerating force) operates on an object to change its velocity. Near the Earth's surface this acceleration is 9.8 meters per second per second toward the Earth's center. What that means is (ignoring air resistance) that  for every second that an object falls near the Earth's surface, it goes 9.8 meters per second faster. You drop a hamster hammer and it starts falling. At the end of the first second it's falling at 9.8 meters per second. At the end of the second second it's falling at 19.6 meters per second, and so on. The same basic idea is true even if the acceleration isn't constant, such as starting far away from the Earth's surface and falling for a long time.

No animals were harmed in the writing of this blog entry. All coyotes and hamsters were simulated. Teapots and Tungsten pianos were real.

Happy Birthday to the United States Marine Corps!

Maybe it's time for me to re-read Chesty's biography, Marine!

"We’ve been looking for the enemy for several days now. We’ve finally found them. We are surrounded. That simplifies the problem of getting to these people and killing them.”
—Col Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller, Chosin Reservoir, Korea 1950