Yearly Archives: 2019

Viewers GoT Angry

Admission: I’ve never watched even one episode of the ‘Game of Thrones’ TV show, nor read even one of the novels in the series by George R. R. Martin. Still, my lack of authority on that (or any) subject won’t stop me from weighing in.

As an author of short stories, I felt stunned to read about the amount of viewer backlash against the screenwriters of the show with regard to the last episode, and the entire last season. Over 1.6 million people have signed a petition challenging HBO to hire competent writers and re-write the final season.

What struck me was the intensity of the fury and the resulting call to action. As far as I know, it’s unprecedented. It seems to me most people could rattle off the names of ten or more living novelists, but how many could name even one screenwriter? Yet millions of viewers vented their ire against the GoT showrunners, whose names figure prominently in the petition.

I wondered how I’d feel if thousands of readers demanded that a more competent author rewrite one or more of my stories.

Without getting into any specifics about the GoT TV series or book series, (since I can’t), it seems to me that two factors combined to channel viewer anger into a petition:

  • The rise of a social media forum where millions of viewers and readers can discuss all aspects of books and TV shows; and
  • The fact that TV shows broadcast, and are viewed, at specific times.

The first point provides a meeting place for ideas, where emotions can feed on each other. The second point focuses the reactions within a small slice of time. Viewers all watch the TV show simultaneously, not in the staggered way readers read novels.

Are we entering a new era? Will such petitions become more common? Will the practice spread beyond anger over TV shows to books?

Some say the opposite, that GoT represents the ending of widely-shared entertainment.

I doubt that. Twitter and Facebook are a new form of water cooler, around which millions can gather at once and add their opinions. I believe we will see future instances like the GoT petition, where viewers concentrate their displeasure (or admiration) on screenwriters.

As for whether book readers will someday make similar demands of authors, I don’t know. To answer my earlier question about how I’d feel if 1.6 million readers documented their rage over one of my stories and demanded a re-write by a better author, I can’t say I’d be happy about it.

Still, it would be nice to have that many readers in the first place. Perhaps one day you’ll see, sitting uncomfortably upon a throne of pens—

                                                Poseidon’s Scribe

June 9, 2019Permalink

Celebrating Short Story Month

It’s Short Story Month, also known as May. Why they didn’t pick February—the shortest month—I’ll never know.

What is a short story? According to Wikipedia, it is a prose tale you can read in one sitting, one that evokes a single effect or mood. That ‘single effect’ idea can be difficult to understand. Edgar Allan Poe called it ‘unity of effect.”

Think of the effect as the emotional response induced in the reader by the story. The intent of a short story is to produce a single such effect, and every paragraph, sentence, and word of the story must support that goal.

There’s something ancient and primal about the short story form. It hearkens back to stories our tribal ancestors told around the fire at night. Those storytellers had to hold the attention of tired listeners as they fought fatigue, so had to keep them focused and interested.

There’s something new and trendy about the short story form. It’s well suited to our fast-paced age of commuting, smart phones, and hectic schedules. Given our brief snatches of time available for reading, it’s easier to enjoy and appreciate a short story than to maintain focus on a novel read a piece at a time.

I know what you’re thinking: Thanks for all that background, Poseidon’s Scribe, but how do I celebrate Short Story Month? Sadly, this occasion hasn’t captured the public’s imagination yet. There are no relevant songs to sing, or particular food items to prepare and eat. It’s not a traditional gift-giving month. No short story parades appear on the schedule.

However, don’t despair. I’ve come up with six ways you can celebrate:

  • Read. Well, this one’s obvious. You can celebrate by reading one or more short stories. You can re-read a past favorite or find a new one. I could crassly suggest you read one of mine, but I’ll resist the temptation.
  • Analyze. Select your favorite short story and re-read it, but this time, jot down what you like about it, your favorite parts, and maybe some notes about the overall structure and plot. You’ll likely learn new things and come away with a deeper appreciation for the story.
  • Write. Even if you haven’t written a story since your school days, you might find it fun to write your own short story. You have a story to tell, and short stories are, by definition, short. You can do this.
  • Submit. As long as you took the time to write one, you might as well submit it for publication. You can use The Submission Grinder to search for potential markets. Pick one, follow its submission guidelines, and submit your story.
  • Promote. We’re in the age of social media, so tell the whole world how you’re celebrating this month. Whether you love a short story by another author, or had your own short story published, tell everyone about it on Facebook, or on Twitter using @shortstorymonth, or on some other platform.
  • Party! Invite some like-minded friends over to your place. Decorate using themes from your favorite short story, and serve appropriate food based on that story. The highlight of the party will be when someone does a dramatic reading (or acting) of the story.

And you thought another Short Story Month would pass you by without notice. Not so. Now you know six ways to celebrate it. Lucky for you, this is just the sort of helpful service provided free by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 19, 2019Permalink

Outsmarting Your Inner Dinosaur

You’re working hard, but not making progress toward your real writing goals. You just can’t seem to get to those tasks you know will help you write better in the long term.

The problem: your inner dinosaur is holding you back. I’ll tell you the way to outsmart the beast.

I’ll credit Al Pittampalli with the idea, though he wasn’t specifically discussing fiction writing. I’ll first summarize the content of his article, but I encourage you to read it here. It’s well worth reading, and Mr. Pittampalli writes in a compelling style using a wonderful driving simile.

Here’s the short version. True productivity isn’t getting more tasks done; it’s getting the important tasks done. You’re spending time in “Maintenance Activities,” those normal actions that seem urgent. You should work on “Growth Activities,” those tasks activities that would truly help you in the long term (education, extended projects, self-improvement) but require some effort now.

The reason you don’t get to your Growth Activities is that the dinosaur part of your brain (the primitive limbic part) sees them as a threat to your survival and overrules the prefrontal cortex (the rational part). The dinosaur takes over right at the moment of decision. Simple willpower won’t defeat it because the dinosaur is clever and relentless.  

Two ways to combat the dinosaur are (1) implementation intentions (tasks expressed as if-then statements, linked to situational cues), which outwit the dinosaur for a while, and (2) the Grit Protocol (commitment to another person that you intend to keep your implementation intentions—reinforced by brief daily meetings). These commitments give the dinosaur a greater fear than the Growth Activity—admitting failure to keep a promise.

How does this apply to writing fiction? Let’s say your long-term goal is some variant of this: to write better fiction that sells well. During your Grit Protocol meeting with your partner, you’ll state that goal aloud. You’ll then list some Growth Activities that would move you toward your goal. Examples of Growth Activities include:

  • Writing some number of words per day
  • Participating in Nanowrimo
  • Taking a course or workshop in fiction writing
  • Doing writing exercises (not necessarily stories) that focus on improving known weak points
  • Learning about marketing fiction
  • Reading one or more books about writing fiction
  • Reading some classic fiction or fiction in your genre and doing an analysis of why those books sell well.

So far, the dinosaur has prevented you from getting to tasks like these. The next step is to break your chosen growth activity into sub-tasks you could realistically accomplish in one day. Then turn those tasks into implementation intentions expressed as if-then statements with a triggering cue. Examples include:

  • If the kids are in bed, then I’ll spend an hour writing
  • If dinner is over, then I’ll write 1700 words without distraction toward my Nanowrimo goal
  • If it’s my lunch break, then I’ll research upcoming nearby writing courses and select the best one for me.
  • If I’m on my bus/subway/train commute, then I’ll write a setting description of that commute to improve my ability to set a scene.
  • If I’m drinking my morning coffee, then I’ll scan some blogs about marketing fiction and make a list of marketing actions I should take.
  • If I’ve just gotten into bed, then I’ll read another chapter of On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King.
  • If I’m just sitting down at my home computer, then I’ll make a list of the things I liked most about that novel I just finished reading, and identify techniques the author used to entice me.

When the triggering cue occurs, execute the task you’ve chosen and to which you’ve committed yourself. Then report that success to your partner at the next day’s meeting.

You’re on your way to accomplishing your most important writing goals by outsmarting your inner dinosaur. Now, excuse me. I’m being reminded it’s time to eat by the dinosaur inside—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe

May 4, 2019Permalink

Your Passion for Writing

When I read the title of Stephanie Lee’s article in The New York Times, “Why ‘Find Your Passion’ is Such Terrible Advice,” I gaped in astonishment. Was she saying ‘Don’t Find Your Passion; Live a Passion-Free Life’? What kind of life is that?

Then I read her article, and I encourage you to do so as well. She’s really saying you should have the right attitude as you seek your life’s passion. Though she doesn’t provide alternative advice, I believe she would have you ‘find and develop your passion.’

The shorter version (“Find your passion”) may lead someone to believe it’s just about the search. “Ah, I’ve found something I enjoy. Now the gods will smile on me and I’ll simply display my in-born talent for the world to see.”

Lee’s article drew heavily from a study by P.A. O’Keefe, C.S. Dweck, and G.M. Walton called “Implicit Theories of Interest: Finding Your Passion or Developing It?” The study contrasted people with two views:

  • Fixed Mindset. These people are uninterested in things beyond their accustomed interests. When they do try new things, they don’t foresee difficulties and lose interest quickly when they encounter problems.
  • Growth Mindset. People with this viewpoint assume they must develop their passions over time. They know they’ll have to invest effort and overcome obstacles.

The study’s authors worried that if you tell someone with a fixed mindset to “find your passion,” that person will likely pour energy into a single interest and quit when the going gets tough. Moreover, the person may generalize that failure and conclude she or he won’t be good at anything.

Those with a fixed mindset are limiting themselves and missing an opportunity to enjoy some interest in life. The key, then, is to shake off the fixed mindset and adopt a growth mindset. But how?

First, I’d like to separate two things people often mix up. Let’s define passion as a strong interest in, even love of, some activity. Let’s define talent as a level of skill in performing some activity. This sets up the four possibilities illustrated in this table.

The key quadrants are 2 and 3. Quadrant 3 points the way out of the fixed mindset. By enjoying and celebrating the fruits of small achievements, you begin to associate favorable outcomes with effort and determination. Quadrant 2 is where all passions start. With any luck, your enjoyment of the activity will carry you through the inevitable difficulties and setbacks.

How does this apply to writing fiction? Like any other activity, some love doing it and some hate it. Some are skilled enough to produce good stories and others lack that talent. I suspect there are very few in Quadrant 3, who hate writing but somehow produce high-quality stories.

If you’re in Quadrant 2 and struggling to get to Quadrant 4, you’ll need that growth mindset to keep you plugging away, writing better stories and perfecting your craft.  

If you suffer from the fixed mindset, think about the Quadrant 3 areas of your life. You do have a talent for some things, after all. You didn’t become good at them by accident. You worked at them and persevered. Now do the same thing by writing some fiction.

In summary, find and develop your passion for writing fiction. That’s the non-terrible advice of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 28, 2019Permalink

Talkin’ ‘Bout My Generation Project

Humanity just doesn’t go in for long-term projects anymore. The fire at Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral this past Monday got me thinking about projects that extend beyond a single human lifetime.

The French are determined to repair their beloved medieval church. Estimates of the duration of repairs range from five to twenty years or more. Those timeframes would have astounded the laborers who built it. They needed 182 years to finish the cathedral.

That sort of project duration was typical for cathedrals of the period. It seems we’re no longer accustomed to ‘generation projects.’ We’re used to completing large structures (buildings, dams, tunnels, bridges, etc.) in spans of less than thirty years.

Imagine what it took to build something that required centuries. The original planners, designers, and workers knew they’d never see the completed work. The designers passed on their plans to others, and hoped the enthusiasm for the project would carry through. Laborers in the middle years worked on a project they didn’t originate and knew they’d never finish. Only the final generation of workers lived to enjoy the project’s culmination.

As an engineer with some program management experience, I marvel at such long-term projects. As a fiction writer, I try to understand the motivation behind them. How did builders sustain the guiding vision generation after generation? Let’s explore some historical generation projects, proceeding from most recent to oldest.

Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família. When finished, this will be a Roman Catholic Church in Barcelona, Spain. Begun in 1882, the project encountered difficulties including war and fire that delayed it, though it’s due to complete in 2026, fully 144 years after its start.

Saint Basil’s Cathedral. Begun in 1555 in Moscow, this church took about 123 years to complete in 1678.

St. Peter’s Basilica. This Italian Renaissance church stands in Vatican City. Construction began in 1506 and ended in 1626, 120 years later. Construction delays included difficulties with its immense dome and a succession of architects redesigning it, among them Michelangelo and Raphael.

Leaning Tower of Pisa. This cathedral bell tower in Pisa, Italy was doomed from the start of its construction in 1173, as it stood on unstable subsoil and started to lean. The difficulty of compensating for that lean was only one of the factors delaying its construction. War with other Italian city-states was another. Despite these setbacks, builders completed the project after 199 years, in 1372.

Notre-Dame de Paris. The fire on April 15 reminded us all that all of humanity’s creations are subject to damage, and fire is perhaps the biggest threat to wooden structures. Construction of this medieval Catholic Cathedral began in 1163, and was mostly done by 1260, but modifications continued until 1345, a total of 182 years.

Angkor Wat. According to one source, the building of Angkor Wat (in what is now Cambodia) began in 802 in the Khmer Empire and completed in 1220, taking 418 years. It started as a Hindu temple and later became a Buddhist one.

Temple of Kukulcan. Also called El Castillo, this Mayan step pyramid, built as a temple to the god Kukulcan, stands in the ancient city of Chichen Itza in what is now Mexico. Construction started in the year 600 and continued in phases to 1000, a duration of 400 years.

Great Wall of China . On my list of generation projects, the Great Wall boasts the longest duration. One site dates its start as 400 B.C. and its completion as 1600 A.D., or two millennia. Ordered by the emperors of various dynasties including the Qin, Han, Qi, Sui, and Ming, the guiding vision seems to have been protection against raiders from the northern steppes.

Stonehenge. Now we come to the oldest generation project on my list, a Neolithic structure in England begun around 3100 B.C. and completed around 1600 B.C. The builders left no records, and the structure’s purpose is unknown. Theories include a burial site, an astronomical observatory, ancestral worship, a symbol of peace and unity, and a place of healing.

From the above list, we can see that, with the exception of the Great Wall and possibly Stonehenge, religion provides a strong motivation for embarking on and sustaining a long-term project. Also, it’s generally true that these projects took a lot longer than originally planned, encountering various disruptions and delays along the way.

If we graph the timeline of these generation projects, it’s clear the timeframes are shortening, likely a result of advancing construction techniques and laborsaving machinery.

Given the faster pace of modern construction, have we lost the ability to plan and accomplish long-term projects? Could we sustain the enthusiasm of a building project over centuries, as our ancestors did?

If we desire to build megastructures on a planetary or stellar scale someday, things such as terraformed planets, Shellworlds, Niven Rings, Dyson Spheres, and others, it’s likely we’ll have to reacquire the multi-generational mindset of those who came before us.

To sustain a project of that type we’d need a motivating spirit, a shared vision as powerful as the ones (like religion or protection) that inspired our predecessors.

Alternatively, we could work on extending the human lifespan. A career length of two thousand years, sufficient to oversee the entirety of the Great Wall, seems like a fine notion to—

  Poseidon’s Scribe

April 21, 2019Permalink

Twistery History

When writing fiction, do you set your tales in historical times? If so, you must resolve the inevitable conflict between The Facts and The Story. In other words, you’ll have to twist some history.

Author Colin Falconer expresses the problem well in a post titled “How to Mix Historical Fact and Fiction.” He says real life is chaotic. It doesn’t obey the rules of fiction. It’s filled with aspects that interfere with a good story.

Here’s a table that contrasts historical fact and historical fiction:

Historical Fact Historical Fiction
Chaotic, messy Planned, ordered
Mostly boring Mostly interesting or exciting
Has real people, with infinite complexities Has a protagonist, antagonist, and supporting characters
Events occur as they will, often by chance or coincidence Events occur in a believable order, in a way that supports the plot
How people lived is as interesting to us as what people did What characters do is more important than details of how they live
Historian’s aim is to get the facts right Fiction writer’s aim is to entertain and engage the reader

I should also mention an important distinction between historical fiction and alternate history. Colin Falconer writes historical fiction, where he takes a set of historical events and fictionalizes them. I write alternate history, set in another universe whose history matched ours until some Point of Divergence (PoD), after which things proceeded quite differently.

Even in alternate history, though, readers want to know the author took the trouble to study history and get some details right. If the story takes place in the past, readers expect the author to transport them there, and not jar them with anachronisms like the clock striking three in the second act of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. (I know, I know—Shakespeare might well have deliberately used a not-yet-invented clock as a dramatic and metaphorical device.)

Here’s how I twisted history in my most recently published alternate history tales:

In “Ripper’s Ring,” set in 1888, the PoD occurs the moment a troubled mortuary worker comes across the legendary Ring of Gyges, the invisibility ring mentioned by Plato. Other than that, I tried to remain true to the facts about Jack the Ripper. I did invent a fictional Scotland Yard detective, but the rest of history didn’t get much twisting.

Regarding my story, “Ancient Spin, (in the Hides the Dark Tower anthology) I hesitate to categorize it as alternate history, since it’s about the Biblical Tower of Babel. Still, I gave my characters Babylonian names and tried to depict the mood and scene after the collapse of a large ziggurat in that time period.

“After the Martians” takes place during our World War I, but the PoD happened sixteen years earlier, in 1901, when the Martians of H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds invaded. Since the combatants in my story use Martian technology, that changes the very nature of the war, so my story doesn’t bear much resemblance to the actual conflict. Even so, my photographer character uses an actual camera from that period, and the old woman treats the soldier’s injuries using techniques of that time.

My story “Instability” (in the Dark Luminous Wings anthology) derives from a legend about a medieval monk in a British monastery around 1000 A.D. I tried hard to get details right about life in a Benedictine monastery including daily schedules and the layout of the abbey. I used one of the actual abbots of Malmesbury Abbey as a character. Aside from the improbable legend itself, I didn’t do much twisting of history in this one.

“The Steam Elephant” (in The Gallery of Curiosities, Issue #3) takes place during the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879. The PoD is my assumption that the events and characters of Jules Verne’s novel The Steam House were true. Again, I strove to keep details of the Battle of Isandlwana accurate, including the names of British commanders and the Zulu king. However, since my story occurs twenty-two years after the setting of Verne’s novel, I stretched things by assuming his characters remained nearly unchanged despite the passage of years.

As you write your historical fiction, try to strike a good balance between getting facts right and telling an interesting story. If you have to twist some history to do that, well, you’re in good company along with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 14, 2019Permalink

Writing Sideways

You have a problem. Perhaps you’ve written your main character into a plot trap. Or you’re trying to create an irresistibly likable character. Or you need a good motivation for the antagonist. Or you don’t even know what to write about. I don’t know what your problem is. Still, let me help you solve it.

By writing sideways.

No, that’s not what I mean by writing sideways

Well, it’s really called ‘lateral thinking’ but I like to think of it as writing sideways. I’m indebted to Shane Snow for the ideas in this post. He discussed problem solving in general, but my post is about solving problems while writing fiction.

His article starts with a clever problem to illustrate his method, but I’ll choose a different one. Your character is in a new house wired by a crazy electrician. The character sees three switches in the basement and knows each switch controls a different incandescent lamp on the first floor, but doesn’t know which switch controls which lamp. How can she find out, by making only one trip upstairs?

Shane Snow’s method has five steps, but you might not need all five for every problem. I’ll rephrase his steps in my own words:

  1. Examine the assumptions. All problems have assumptions, but some are so obvious most people ignore them. List all the assumptions you can think of, and examine each one. Is it really true? Are there other options? For our Switch-and-Lamp problem, the assumptions might include:
    • You need to know which switch controls which lamp.
    • Each switch controls a different lamp.
    • You can only make one trip up the stairs.
    • You can’t see the lamps from the basement.
    • You can determine a switch-to-lamp connection by flipping the switch on and looking at the lamp.
  2. Question the direct approach. Think about the way most people would solve the problem. Then ask, “what if I couldn’t do it that way?” For the Switch-and-Lamp problem, most people would flip a switch or two, then go upstairs and find they’ve only identified one of the three connections. They’re stymied by the limitation of being allowed only one trip upstairs.
  3. Re-write the Question. Often by examining the question, ingenious new answers emerge. Why is it so vital to know which switch controls which lamp? Why am I only allowed one trip upstairs? Does it matter that they’re ‘incandescent’ light bulbs?
  4. Approach the Problem Backwards. This is a common method used with mathematical problems. Imagine you’ve already solved the problem and think about what form that solution took and what route you must have taken to get there. In our character’s case, her solved problem consists of going upstairs and finding the three lamps in three different states, so she can know which switch controlled which lamp. That seems impossible, since lamps have only two states—on or off, right?
  5. Get a fresh perspective. Look at the problem from different angles and sides. In a problem involving fictional characters, think about how each of them see it. In our switch-and-lamp problem, look back and notice how we’ve constrained our thought by thinking of lamps as binary—either on or off, but we need some third state of a light bulb to know, in one trip, which switch controls each lamp. Is there a third state of a light bulb other than on or off?

Readers love books that break molds, defy conventions, and explore new ideas. They enjoy characters that are out of the ordinary, or who solve bedeviling problems in ingenious ways. Perhaps these techniques of writing sideways will help you.

Oh, yeah. I forgot about the lamps. By now, you know one answer: your character must turn the first switch on and wait a few minutes, then turn that one off, turn the second switch on, and go upstairs. Your character will find one light bulb off but warm (switch 1), one lamp on (switch 2), and one lamp off but just room temperature (switch 3).

That’s the problem’s classic solution, but what if the problem permitted no trips up the stairs? Then our character could drill a hole in the basement ceiling and construct a periscope so she could see at a glance which lamp comes on as she operates each switch.

If you apply the sideways writing techniques, you’ll come up with even more solutions to this problem and many others, solutions far beyond the imagination of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 7, 2019Permalink

Fixing Science Fiction

In a Slate Magazine article, Lee Konstantinou argued that “Something is Broken in Our Science Fiction.” Is that true? If so, what can SciFi writers do about it?

Fixing some broken SciFi

Konstantinou’s thought-provoking piece declares that SciFi remains stuck in the cyberpunk era of the 1980s, seemingly unable to break free. He contends that cyberpunk and its many offshoot ‘-punks’ were products of the Reagan-Thatcher era.

To Kontantinou, the various punks share common attributes, such as (1) a setting not too different from our own, (2) an individual struggling alone against a flaw-ridden society, and (3) an absence of collective action by a group or groups. Even recent trends like dystopian SciFi and its positive counterpart (hope-punk?) typified by Hieroglyph: Stories and Visions for a Better Future are just cyberpunk derivatives.

Is he right? Is Science Fiction broken? Are the punks to blame?

As a writer of steampunk and clockpunk, I experienced an initially sour reaction to Konstantinou’s article before I thought more deeply about it. I agree with him that something seems wrong.

Whatever you say about the punks, give them due credit; they’ve had a good, long run. Konstantinou’s common attributes of punks are general enough to cover a lot of territory and appeal to a broad range of tastes. Moreover, the various ‘time period’ punks such as steampunk, dieselpunk, atompunk, etc. cater to readers’ nostalgic longings.

Still, I get a sense that SciFi is in a transition period, waiting for the next movement to explode on the scene. Likely the seeds of that next era are already here in some form, just starting to sprout into public awareness.

Maybe the next big thing in SciFi will spring from one or a combination of the current observable trends:

  • LBGTQ main characters, and explorations of alternate sexualities
  • Climate change extrapolations; humanity as a spoiler of environments
  • Artificial intelligence, the entire spectrum from the weak (narrow) kind, through the strong kind, to the super-intelligent kind
  • 3D Printing and nanotechnology implications
  • Cross-genre mashups
  • Biological and genetic science
  • Extended human lifespans, Trans-human possibilities, cyborgs
  • Mundane SciFi

More likely, the next SciFi movement will grow from something I haven’t anticipated or noted yet.

To paraphrase P!nk in her song “Just Give Me a Reason,” Science Fiction is not broken, just bent, and SciFi writers can learn to entertain readers again. One author who will make the effort is—

                                  Poseidon’s Scribe

March 31, 2019Permalink

A Long Weekend in Arizona, and Beyond

On occasion, I’ve included posts about my travels in this blog. However, since I’m a fiction writer, not every word of these posts is true. Last weekend, I traveled to Phoenix to attend a wedding.

Morning at Camelback Mountain

While in town, my wife and I went sightseeing. On Friday morning, we drove to Camelback Mountain, named for its resemblance to an animal that has never set foot in the Sonoran Desert. It’s a mountain for serious hikers, and I’d like to say we hiked up and down in record time, but I can’t. We snapped a few pictures and left.

Scene from Saguaro Lake

That afternoon, we took a delightful cruise on windy Saguaro Lake aboard the boat Desert Belle. Narrated by Captain Gino, the cruise took about ninety minutes and we enjoyed seeing the desert mountain scenery and hearing facts and stories about the area.

View from South Mountain

On Saturday morning, we drove to South Mountain Park. Though you can hike up the mountain, we found it much easier to drive to the summit. If you do likewise, take it easy on the roads; they’re full of hairpin turns and blind bends.

The wedding took place Saturday afternoon, with perfect weather, and I’ll simply say the bride looked beautiful and the couple is now well and truly joined in matrimony.

On Sunday, we met a college friend of mine and ate lunch at the quirky Buffalo Chip Saloon in Cave Creek. I couldn’t resist ordering the Buffalo Stew and thoroughly enjoyed it.

The author, blocking a view of the Grand Canyon

My wife and I got up early Monday morning and drove to the Grand Canyon. Although I took pictures, I’m now convinced you can’t appreciate that place through other people’s photos or videos. You must go there.

Two people had recommended we see the red cliffs in the town of Sedona, situated between the Canyon and Phoenix, so we drove back that way. Driving along State Road 89A, which winds its way down Oak Creek Canyon, we took in the majestic mountain terrain on a road the mostly followed the serpentine path carved by the creek.

Red Cliffs of Sedona. Beware of vortexes.

I’d grown tired of driving, so my wife and I switched places. She drove along the touristy main road of Sedona with its slow speed limits and frequent lights. We stopped twice to take pictures of the towering, rust-colored rock formations. You really get a sense of geological time and the slow power of water in such a place.

Then a strange thing happened.

Just past Airport Road, I felt something odd while sitting in the passenger seat. While still belted in, I experienced an upward whirling sensation, as if being twirled in a spiral manner. I saw the car spinning below me, then the town, then the entire desert.

Panicking, I tried to see what was lifting my body, only to discover I had no body. My senses had somehow separated from it, and I could see the turning sphere of our Earth below me without having to breathe or suffer any discomfort.

Of my galactic voyage through our own and many alternate universes—some where the void is light and the stars dark, others where magic outweighs science, and still others where living stars and planets converse and philosophize—I can’t say much. Mainly this is because our Earthly vocabulary is too limited, too constrained by our provincial understandings.

After a wondrous, crystalline eternity spent wandering various dimensions and astral planes, I felt myself drawn back to our tiny orb. Down I spiraled, toward North America, toward Arizona, toward Sedona, but this time not to the mesa near the local airfield, but rather toward a reddish rock formation southwest of there.

Without warning, I was back in the car, awash in a sensation of spiritual renewal and psychic vitality. “Did you feel that?” I asked my wife. She looked puzzled. “Feel what?”

Only later did I learn Airport Mesa is a so-called “masculine vortex” of outward energy, and nearby Cathedral Rock is a “feminine vortex” of inward energy.

Someone should have forewarned—

  Poseidon’s Scribe

March 23, 2019Permalink

Technoethics and the Curious Ape

In the movie Jurassic Park, the character Ian Malcolm says, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” Today, I’m focusing on another technology topic, namely ethics in technology, or Technoethics.

Wikipedia article “Ape”

Our species is innately curious and inventive. We possess large brains and opposable thumbs, but lack claws, shells, great speed, camouflaged skin and other attributes employed by animals to attack prey or to avoid becoming prey. These circumstances make us natural toolmakers.

From the beginning, we found we could use our tools for good or evil. The same stick, spear, bow and arrow, or rifle we used to kill a rabbit for dinner could also kill a fellow human. The different outcome is not inherent in the tool, but in the heart of the person employing it.

For each new technology in our history, there was at least one inventor. This person took an idea, created a design, and often used available materials to assemble the new item. Were these inventors responsible for, in Malcolm’s words, stopping to think if they should?

With some technologies, like the plow, the printing press, the light bulb, and the automobile, it’s certain their creators intended only positive, beneficial outcomes. The inventor of the automobile could not have foreseen people using cars as weapons, or that one day there’d be so many cars they’d pollute the atmosphere.

With other technologies such as the spear, the warship, the canon, and the nuclear bomb, the inventor’s intent was to kill other people. Why? The usual rationale is twofold: (1) My side needs this technology so our wartime enemy does not kill us, or (2) If I do not invent this technology first, my enemy will, and will use it against my side. Given such reasoning, an inventor of a weapon can claim it would be immoral not to develop the technology.

I’m sure there are unsung examples of would-be inventors refusing, on ethical grounds, to develop a new technology because they feared the consequences. The only example I can think of, though, is Leonardo da Vinci. Although he had no qualms about designing giant crossbows and battle tanks, he drew the line at submarines. Though at first excited about giving a submarine design to the Venetians for use against the Turks, da Vinci reconsidered and destroyed his own plans, after imagining how horrible war could become.

That example aside, the history of humanity gives me no reason to suspect future inventors will hesitate to develop even the most potent and powerful technologies. It’s our curious ape nature; if we can, we will. Only afterward will we ask if we should have.

As a writer of technological fiction, I’ve explored technoethics in many of my stories:

  • In “The Sea-Wagon of Yantai,” a Chinese submarine inventor intends his craft as a tool of exploration, but an army officer envisions military uses.
  • In “The Steam Elephant,” a British inventor sees his creation as a mobile home for safari hunters, but then imagines the British Army employing it on the battlefield. Only the narrator character fears what war will become when both sides have such weapons.
  • In “Leonardo’s Lion,” da Vinci actually builds his inventions, but hides them away and gives clues to the King of France about where to find them. The King never sees the clues, but decades later a ten-year-old boy does, and must decide whether the world is ready for these amazing devices.
  • In “The Six Hundred Dollar Man,” a doctor imagines how steam-powered prosthetic limbs would have saved crippled Civil War soldiers, but fails to foresee how super-strength and super-speed could turn a good person bad.
  • In “Ripper’s Ring,” a troubled Londoner in 1888 comes across the Ring of Gyges that Plato wrote about, an invisibility ring. Possession of that ring changes him into history’s most famous mass murderer.
  • In “After the Martians,” the survivors of an alien attack in 1901 take the Martian technology (tripods, heat rays, flying machines) and fight World War I.

As we smart apes start playing with bigger and more deadly sticks, maybe one day we will stop and think if we should before we think about whether we can. Hoping that day comes soon, I’m—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 10, 2019Permalink