Interview with a Moon Voyager

Today I’m interviewing the first man to land on the moon. I’m speaking, of course, about Hans Pfaall, who appears in my story “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall,” in the anthology Quoth the Raven. It’s my sequel to the Edgar Allan Poe story, “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.”

Poseidon’s Scribe: Greetings, Mr. Pfaall. And welcome to my blog. Thank you for consenting to this interview.

Hans Pfaall: Thank you, Mr. Southard. However, I confess I do not know what a ‘blog’ is, nor do I understand how you are able to conduct an interview under these circumstances.

P.S.: Never mind all that. Let’s focus on you. First, am I pronouncing your name correctly? Does Pfaall rhyme with ‘pail’ or ‘ball?’

H.P.: You’re pronouncing it correctly.

P.S.: Um….okay. Let’s move on. Up until five years ago, in 1830, where did you live and work?

H.P.: I was a citizen of Rotterdam. I repaired fireplace bellows.

P.S.: But then you went on a remarkable voyage. Please tell us about that.

Illustration by Yan Dargent

H.P.: I constructed a balloon of my own design and used it to travel to the Moon.

P.S.: I can’t believe that. All on your own, with meager resources, you built a balloon?

H.P.: Not on my own. That would be ridiculous. My wife and three men assisted me.

P.S.: How were you able to travel, let alone breathe, in the vacuum of space?

H.P.: You suffer from a widely held misconception. The space between the Earth and its satellite is not a vacuum. Although the air is thin, one can use a compressor apparatus to render it breathable, which I did.

P.S.: I see. Once you reached the Moon, what did you find there?

H.P.: The most significant things were the numerous hamlets and the single sizable city, in which I landed. Also of interest were the natives, who are similar to us in many ways, except for their diminutive stature and their lack of ears. I wrote about all of this in a letter; I gave it to one of the Lunarians and sent him back to Earth in a balloon for delivery to the officials of Rotterdam. Did they not receive it?

P.S.: They did. But your letter ended with some tantalizing mysteries. Please describe those.

H.P.: I presume you’re speaking of the strange connection between every human on Earth and a particular Lunarian. Not only does such twinning exist, unbeknown to us, but the lives and destinies of the linked individuals are interwoven with each other. Moreover, I believe I mentioned in the letter something about the dark and hideous mysteries that lie on the far side of the Moon, the side forever turned away from Earth.

P.S.: Right. Don’t you think those things deserved more than one paragraph?

H.P.: That letter had rambled on too long already. I will write more letters soon.

P.S.: Did you think about the effect such a letter might have on the residents of Rotterdam? I’ve heard they may send a rescue mission.

H.P.: What? I didn’t ask to be rescued. I don’t want to be rescued.

P.S.: You’re happy, staying on the Moon?

H.P.: Quite happy, sir.

P.S.: Well, this is a bit awkward. The rescuers are…um…

H.P.: What do you mean? Are you saying they’re on their way already? Tell them to turn back!

Poseidon’s Scribe: I’m just an author. I don’t have complete control over these things. But, thank you for this fascinating interview.

Hans Pfaall: No, this isn’t over. Promise me you’ll get the rescuers to return home. I don’t want to be rescued! Tell them!

 

Sheesh. That interview didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. In the anthology Quoth the Raven, you can read the story, “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 4, 2018Permalink

Who the Heck is Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk?

Edgar Allan Poe could be just as creative with character names as Charles Dickens, or Dr. Seuss, for that matter. I’ll tell you about Poe’s story first, and then introduce Von Underduk.

Among Poe’s least remembered short stories is “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.” Hmm…Pfaall. Would that be pronounced ‘fail’ or ‘fall?’ Both would be apt, and Poe probably intended the ambiguity.

Illustration by Yan Dargent

In Poe’s story, the citizens of Rotterdam were alarmed when a peculiar balloon appeared above the city. How peculiar? Its gasbag was made from newspapers, and its lone occupant was an earless dwarf. This odd aeronaut remained silent,  but dropped a sealed letter before his balloon drifted from sight.

The anxious citizens read the letter, written by Hans Pfaall, a repairer of fireplace bellows and former resident of Rotterdam, who hadn’t been seen for five years. Pfaall’s letter described how he’d constructed a balloon and voyaged to the Moon.

Near the end of his letter, Pfaall mentioned he had much to say about the strange inhabitants of the Moon, about an odd connection between Lunarians and Earthlings, and some “dark and hideous mysteries” which lay on the Moon’s far side. There his letter, and Poe’s story, ended.

Poe intended to write further installments of this story, but never did, since another author upstaged him with an outlandish Moon hoax story. Still, the questions posed by Hans Pfaall’s letter have gone unanswered since 1835…

Until now.

My sequel to Poe’s story is “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” and it appears in the anthology Quoth the Raven, which just launched today, exactly 169 years after the day of Poe’s death.

The good people of Rotterdam wouldn’t let Hans Pfaall remain trapped on the Moon. They’d organize a rescue, of course. They have everything they need. They have determination and grit. They have Pfaall’s letter with its detailed description of his balloon.

But most of all, they have Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk, the Burgomaster (mayor) of Rotterdam. Though a politician, Von Underduk is a man of many fine qualities:

  • He’s decisive and bold. Von Underduk takes little more than a month to consider the matter and authorize the rescue expedition.
  • He’s trusting and empowering. “Herr Pfaall, do not touch anything else unless I agree first. Understand?”
  • He humbly shares the spotlight. That miserable bellows repairman is not the only one capable of magnificent acts of lasting greatness…This time I alone will get the credit and the glory.
  • Most of all, he’s loving and tender. It should be understood that I, however, loathe him with hatred beyond all cosmic boundaries.

Now you can follow the journey of Burgomaster Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk and his fellow 19th Century astronauts as they pursue their desperate mission of rescue. Discover answers to the dark and hideous mysteries mentioned by Poe.

Buy Quoth the Raven and read “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

End of the SF Gender War

The war raged on a few years ago, and I had hoped by now it was over. I’m talking about the gender war among science fiction writers.

The old stereotype was that male authors wrote hard science fiction, plot-driven stories that were true to science; and female authors wrote soft science fiction, character-driven stories that verged into magic and fantasy without a firm backing in scientific principles. Moreover, some considered the former true science fiction and the latter not SciFi at all.

However, I suspect the vast majority of SciFi readers don’t care about the author’s gender at all. There might be, among female readers, a feeling of pride in the sisterhood at reading a book by a woman author, but for the most part, readers just crave good stories by any author. To some extent, writer Mike Brotherton backed that up with an unscientific poll on his website in 2010, where 86% of the responders said the author’s gender had no impact on whether they bought and read a book.

In 2014, K. Tempest Bradford wrote an article for NPR titled “Women Are Destroying Science Fiction! (That’s OK; They Created It).” The article reviewed the controversy and highlighted a then-new issue of Lightspeed magazine, edited by women and containing stories written by women.

But Bradford’s article came out four years ago. Surely both sides have declared a truce by now. Right?

Apparently not. I went to a literary SciFi convention in Dallas, Texas last week, a convention called FENCON. I attended an enjoyable panel titled “Ladies First! – Female Writers and How they Got Started.” Authors Patrice Sarath and Mel Tatum made it an informative and educational session. The panelists praised female SciFi authors, both past and present, and neither they nor the audience (mostly male) had any trouble rattling off the names of many famous female authors in the genre.

But someone mentioned that, although we could name such authors, they tend to receive less recognition than male authors. Specifically, women win fewer Hugo and Nebula awards than their male counterparts do. (However, that’s not true of the 2018 Hugos.)

As a not-quite-famous-yet author, I thought it seemed petty to tally up the female and male award winners to see if percentages are appropriate. Then I began to realize how unfair it must seem if your gender is the under-represented one year after year, even though writers of your sex are producing fiction of comparable quality. Even if awards aren’t as valuable as sales, a striking disparity in awards must sting. Awards are a more tangible representation of esteem and recognition.

During the FENCON panel, someone also mentioned that in any listing of the top science fiction authors, there are usually few women’s names. Women science fiction authors have come a long way since the early days, but clearly, they’ve not yet attained the credit and appreciation they deserve.

I suspect this situation is much like any field of endeavor that started out predominantly male. At first, a few brave female pioneers enter the field, and endure a lot of criticism, but persevere. Later, women become more and more accepted over a long period. Eventually, no one will be able to recall a time before women had been working in the field.

If the SF gender war is not yet over, we’re at least in witnessing only its final skirmishes. In some more enlightened age (soon, I hope), we’ll realize how stupid this war was and we’ll settle into a comfortable peace.

Then we’ll probably start a gender war over something equally inane. That’s the pessimistic view of your humble observer of human nature—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 30, 2018Permalink

Medieval SciFi

Can Science Fiction trace its origins back further than Jules Verne? Further than Edgar Allan Poe? Further than Mary Shelley? Could you have read SciFi books if you lived in the Middle Ages?

Medieval scholars Carl Kears and James Paz think so. They wrote a fascinating article in The Conversation called “Science fiction was around in medieval times – here’s what it looked like.” They also co-wrote the book Medieval Science Fiction.

Their article cites some fascinating medieval examples of what we’ve come to know as science fiction. Moreover, some of these examples may be familiar to readers of stories by (ahem) me.

They reference “…the story of Eilmer the 11th-century monk, who constructed a pair of wings and flew from the top of Malmesbury Abbey.” My readers know all about Brother Eilmer from my fictionalized account of this legend in “Instability” which appears in the anthology Dark Luminous Wings.

The article’s authors also cite “…medieval romances that feature Alexander the Great…exploring the depths of the ocean in his proto-submarine.” Once again, readers will recall my story “Alexander’s Odyssey” in which the sea-god Poseidon becomes angry with Alexander for invading his realm.

Wait, some of you are thinking, Alexander the Great didn’t live in medieval times! True, but his ancient Greek contemporaries never mentioned his descent in a diving bell. Arabic writers in the Middle Ages became fascinated with Alexander and fantasized all sorts of stories about him. Among those was the submarine tale.

Here are some other examples of books one might classify as Medieval Science Fiction:

Roman de Troie, written by Benoît de Sainte-Maure in the 12th Century. It features automata.
Theologus Autodidactus, written by Ibn al-Nafis in the late 13th Century. In it, the main character is spontaneously generated, rather than born. He predicts the future, uses his reason and senses to deduce the religion of Islam, and explains bodily resurrection using cloning.
One Thousand and One Nights, compiled between the 9th and 14th Centuries. It mentions immortality, interplanetary travel, underwater breathing capability, and humanoid robots.
The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, written by Sir John Mandeville in the 14th Century. It includes automata, alternate human species, and diamonds that reproduce sexually.
• “The House of Fame” a poem written by Geoffrey Chaucer in the late 14th Century. In it, a house is constructed such that all sound flows into it. The occupants can hear all noises from everywhere.

You might think I’m stretching things to call a story “Science Fiction” if it dates from a time before the development of Science. If SciFi is concerned with potential future technological or scientific advances, then an author couldn’t possibly write in that genre before Galileo came up with the scientific method in the early 17th Century. Right?

Well, maybe, but the genre of science fiction is quite broad, and considering the modern stories that get pigeonholed there, it seems unfair not to include the examples I’ve given above and those cited by Kears and Paz.

Living in the 21st Century, most of us regard Science Fiction as a modern genre, no more than two centuries old. If we could converse with some well-read folks from the 5th through 15th Centuries, they might disagree. Of course, if you do have such a conversation somehow, please tell—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 16, 2018Permalink

Re-Launch and Dark Stories

Pole to Pole Publishing has done it again. They’ve launched another new anthology, this one called Re-Launch. It’s chock full of science fiction stories about launches and new beginnings.

Here’s the blurb:

Beginnings are always messy. ~ John Galsworthy

Spacecrafts hurtling toward alien worlds. Second chances for civilizations. First contact. Rebirth. Non-humans looking for a new life. Opportunities for fresh starts and do-overs far from Earth. These stories and more explore the theme of Re-Launch.

Send your imagination into orbit with 18 science fiction tales from an international roster of authors.

Featuring fiction from Douglas Smith, James Dorr, Kris Austen Radcliffe, Eando Bender, Wendy Nikel, Stewart C. Baker, Meriah Crawford, Gregory L. Norris, Jennifer Rachel Baumer, Jonathan Shipley, Vonnie Winslow Crist, Lawrence Dagstine, CB Droege, Jude-Marie Green, Steven R. Southard, Calie Voorhis, Anthony Cardno, and Andrew Gudgel.

Re-Launch reminds readers that new beginnings rarely go as planned and danger waits for the unwary on all worlds.

Yes, that’s my name listed along with those great authors. My story “Target Practice” is in this anthology. In that tale, inmate number 806739 lives in an underwater prison of the future that forces convicts to operate unarmed mini-subs in cat-and-mouse chases against men in armed subs training for battle.

Re-Launch is the science fiction part of the Pole to Pole’s planned Re-Imagined series, along with Re-Quest (fantasy quests and searches), Re-Terrify (monsters) and Re-Enchant (magic and fae).

It’s available for purchase at Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, 24 Symbols, and Scribd.

Also, for those who haven’t yet bought some of Pole to Pole’s previous anthologies, like Hides the Dark Tower, In a Cat’s Eye, and Dark Luminous Wings, you can now purchase all three in a boxed set called Dark Stories. I’m fortunate to have a story in each one of those anthologies.

You’re going to enjoy Re-Launch and Dark Stories. That’s a promise from—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 9, 2018Permalink

Happy Bicentennial, Frankenstein

Two hundred years ago, author Mary Shelley wrote a remarkable novel— Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus—which endures in popularity and bears an increasingly meaningful warning for us today.

Title page from the original 1818 edition

(Yes, I know I’m a few months late. Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor, & Jones published the novel on January 1, 1818. Amazing that a publisher was working on New Years Day!)

Today, we know Shelley’s novel mainly from its numerous movie incarnations and from the term “Frankenstein monster” itself, which has become shorthand for creating something with unintended negative consequences. I’ll be commenting on the original story, though, not its later derivative works.

Boris Karloff depiction of the monster, from the 1931 movie

In my own stories, I explore the relationships between people and new technology. That is a key aspect of Frankenstein. In fact, that novel is one of the first ever to consider that theme.

Inventors typically create new technology to improve human life, to meet a need. However, the introduction of new technology can also bring about undesirable changes, including fear, active opposition, unforeseen faults in the tech (bugs), and inventor’s regret.

Not only does Shelley show us all of these aspects in Frankenstein, she turns the table on the whole technology impact concept; her sentient technology reacts to its own existence in a world of people.

To us, her novel seems well ahead of its time. Two hundred years ago, the Industrial Revolution had just begun. Electricity was a new and exciting phenomenon, not yet harnessed for effective use. Scientists were discovering elements and chemicals at a rapid pace.

Up to that time, fiction authors had written of golems and homunculi, humanoids created from magic. No stories yet existed of creating human-like life through science.

Perhaps, to readers of Frankenstein in 1818, then witnessing an explosion of scientific discovery, it might have seemed as if the animation of dead human tissue might well be next week’s news. Two centuries later, we have a better idea of how difficult the feat is. We can manipulate DNA to some extent. We’ve achieved remarkable results in extending human lifespans. We can revive the recently dead through mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and other techniques.

Mary W. Shelley

Still, we can’t do what Dr. Frankenstein did…yet. Nonetheless, when I said Shelley’s novel contains a particularly relevant warning for us today, I was referring to science’s quest to create artificially intelligent, sentient, self-aware “life.” This achievement may be decades, or only years, away. The ability for humans to create thinking, human-like life by means other than reproduction will be a breakthrough of far greater impact than any previous scientific development in human history.

We now find ourselves in the role of Dr. Frankenstein before he created the monster. We can consider the ethics of our actions in advance. We can ask if we’re insane even to pursue the enterprise. We can examine and plan for as many possible consequences as we can imagine.

Mary Shelley gave us a novel full of these consequences to consider. From twenty decades in the past, her visage warns us to be careful. She’s cautioning us with a worst-case scenario. If we fail to prepare for these consequences, we’ll have only ourselves to blame.

Thank you, Mary, for your wise counsel. On Frankenstein’s bicentennial, we’re still recklessly curious beings who discover how to do things before thinking whether we should, and before taking appropriate precautions. Maybe things will turn out fine, and much credit will go to you, for your prescient advance notice. Conveying my belated gratitude back through two centuries to you, I’m—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Your Own Steam Elephant

The Gallery of Curiosities, issue #3, Summer 2018

I’m delighted The Gallery of Curiosities has chosen to reprint my story, “The Steam Elephant” in their Summer 2018 Issue (#3). It gave me a chance to re-read the story, and recall the fun I had writing it.

Verne’s steam elephant on its way through India

“The Steam Elephant” is my sequel to Jules Verne’s novel The Steam House. In Verne’s tale,  a British inventor constructed a steam-powered mechanical elephant (and two wheeled carriages towed behind it) on commission from an Indian rajah. This rajah died before taking possession, so ownership remained with the inventor. He took a group of British friends, a Frenchman, and several servants, on a series of adventures in the wilds of India.

My steampunk sequel picks up eleven years later. Although the original steam elephant met its end in Verne’s novel, the engineer constructed a second one in my tale. He modeled this new elephant after the African species. The group of friends gathered again, this time to go lion hunting in Africa, but found themselves drawn into the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879.

Verne’s story predated automobiles and appeared long before Recreational Vehicle motorhomes, when people only knew about steam locomotives on rails. I’m sure it fascinated his readers to imagine taking their home with them while travelling. Today, millions of people do just that…but they’re restricted to travelling on roads. Verne’s elephant walked anywhere, even through shallow rivers.

Star Wars’ All Terrain Armored Transport (AT-AT)

As an engineer, I loved the idea of a quadrapod, animatronic, bio-inspired walking vehicle powered by steam. This lay well beyond the technology of the Nineteenth Century, and we’re only at the early stages of such mechanisms today. That’s why the AT-AT ground assault combat vehicles of Star Wars seem so cool. By the way, the AT-AT designers also drew inspiration from a pachyderm.

Verne described the elephant as being a ‘traction engine,’ a steam engine that pulls loads on roads or smooth ground. This term doesn’t find much use today, since internal combustion gasoline engines supplanted steam for tractors and other off-road vehicles.

Still, imagine owning such an elephant. Within its iron flanks, there’d be the water reservoir, fuel storage, firebox, boiler, and cylinders common to locomotives. Also, you’d find the massive gears and linkages necessary to move the four giant legs in a stable pattern.

Seated in your well insulated howdah on top, you’d rotate the trunk down to pump in water from a river. Then you’d swivel the trunk up, start the engine, sound a blast from its trumpeting whistle, and watch steam and smoke belch from the trunk. When you pushed a lever, your elephant would plod forward on its ponderous legs over any type of flat ground or shallow water. Roads? Where we’re clomping, we don’t need roads.

Perhaps after ten minutes of sweating through that, you’d retreat to one of the towed carriages and let someone else drive the elephant while you sipped wine and played whist.

I’ll take two of those, please. In a way, I did. I wrote about one in another story, Rallying Cry.”

Too bad you can’t buy your own steam-powered, mechanical elephant vehicle. You could try to build one for several thousand dollars. Or, the next best thing, you could lay down just $3.00 and get a copy of The Gallery of Curiosities magazine, issue #3, and read “The Steam Elephant” by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

What? My Books are Half Price?

The folks at Smashwords are nice, but they’ve gone too far now. They’ve priced my entire What Man Hath Wrought series at half price for the entire month of July.

I’ve checked, and it’s true. You can get After the Martians, Ripper’s Ring, Time’s Deformèd Hand, The Cometeers, To Be First and Wheels of Heaven, Rallying Cry and Last Vessel of Atlantis, A Tale More True, Against All Gods, Leonardo’s Lion, and Alexander’s Odyssey for a measly $2 each.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, there’s more. You can grab The Six Hundred Dollar Man, A Steampunk Carol, Within Victorian Mists, and The Wind-Sphere Ship for just $1.50 each.

 

 

 

 

Wait a minute [grabs calculator], that means you can get the entire collection (all 14 books—that’s 16 stories) for $26. I guess my financial misfortune is your summer reading opportunity.

This time, there’s no need for coupon numbers or passwords or promo codes. None of that. Just go to Smashwords and you’ll see the slashed-in-half prices are already marked. Simply click on my books and load ‘em in your shopping cart.

The What Man Hath Wrought series features relatable characters grappling with new technology in a historical setting. These alternate history stories explore what might have been. They’ll make you think about how you struggle with new gadgets today.

The Smashwords ½-price sale runs through July 31, but you know what a procrastinator you are. You’d better buy the books now before you’re caught up in summer’s many distractions.

What an inexpensive way to immerse yourself in the remarkable and adventurous world of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

What’s Silkpunk?

You thought this blog-post was the last word on the various ‘punk’ subgenres? Wrong. Meet the new member of the punk family: Silkpunk.

Author Ken Liu invented the term Silkpunk to describe the genre of his latest novel, The Grace of Kings. In this post, he defined silkpunk as “…a blend of science fiction and fantasy…[drawing] inspiration from classical East Asian antiquity. My novel is filled with technologies like soaring battle kites that lift duelists into the air, bamboo-and-silk airships propelled by giant feathered oars, underwater boats that swim like whales driven by primitive steam engines, and tunnel-digging machines enhanced with herbal lore.”

This newest member of the Punk Family is unlike the others in that it’s not represented by a power source or engine type. Perhaps, though, in a metaphorical way, it is. The Silk Road was a trade network from China to Europe that empowered China.

Congratulations to Mr. Liu for coming up with the term Silkpunk. However, with all due modesty, I must say, stories of that type are not new. My own story, “The Sea-Wagon of Yantai” belongs in that genre as well.

In my tale, it’s 206 B.C. and China is torn by warring dynasties. A young warrior, Lau, receives orders to verify the legend of a magic wagon that can cross rivers while remaining unseen. He encounters Ning, the wagon-maker in the seaside village of Yantai. Ning has constructed an unusual wagon that can submerge, travel along the bottom of the Bay of Bohai, and surface in safety—the world’s first practical submarine. Ning enjoys the peace and beauty of his undersea excursions; he won’t allow the military to seize his wagon or learn its secrets. Lau must bring the valuable weapon back to his superior. In the hands of these two men rest the future of the submarine, as an instrument of war or exploration.

My story was inspired by vague references I’d read about someone inventing a submarine in China around 200 B.C. A second inspiration for my story was Ray Bradbury’s tale, “The Flying Machine.” One of his lesser-known works, it’s a wonderful short story, and would certainly qualify as silkpunk, with its kite-like bamboo flying machine with paper wings.

Another silkpunk story that predates the invention of the subgenre’s name is “On the Path,” by fellow author Kelly A. Harmon. Within it, Tan is a farmer, following the path, when the seal on his soul-powered plow bursts, releasing all ghosts from its reincarnation engine. The ghosts flee to Tan’s tangerine groves, reveling in their freedom. One of the souls is Tan’s deceased uncle, Lau Weng, and Tan must offer hospitality. Souls laboring in the reincarnation engines grow more solid as they work off their past lives’ debts and prepare to be born again. Freed from the engine, Lau Weng and his ghostly compatriots rely on Tan and his wife Heng to support them. Caught between death and re-birth, Lau Weng will do anything to remain alive. Tan is honor-bound to provide hospitality, but must feed his family, too, and he can do nothing to stop Lau Weng. Everything changes once Lau Weng takes over Heng’s body.

Thanks to Ken Liu (and others), silkpunk may well catch on in popularity in North America and Europe. Here are four reasons why:

  1. Like steampunk, silkpunk comes ready made with its own aesthetic, with fascinating clothing for costumes, and a characteristic look for gadgets, etc.
  2. Silkpunk is a completely new world, ripe and wide open for writers and readers to explore.
  3. To Western readers, silkpunk will seem exotic and enthralling.
  4. For Western readers, silkpunk represents a chance to learn about new cultures and different philosophies.

Will Silkpunk someday rival Steampunk in popularity? I don’t know. I’m a writer. If you want a psychic, don’t call—

Poseidon’s Scribe

22 Ways to Celebrate Science Fiction Day

Today is National Science Fiction Day. Wait…National SF Day? Since no nation officially recognizes it, I suggest we rename it Galactic Science Fiction Day. After all, the Milky Way Galaxy has officially recognized it. Don’t believe me? Prove me wrong.

Dr. Isaac Asimov

January 2 is an apt date for SF Day. It’s Isaac Asimov’s birthday. Maybe. I seem to recall reading that Isaac wasn’t 100% sure of his birthdate. That ambiguity makes the date even more fitting.

Also, January 2 is so close to the beginning of the year that it seems to retain a connection to the recent past while also causing us to think about the promise of the year ahead. Rather a nice metaphor for SF.

If you’re wondering just how to celebrate SF Day, well, fellow Earthling, you’ve beamed to the right blog post. Here’s a list of 22 ways to celebrate. I hoped to list all 42 ways, but Heinlein’s Star Beast ate 20 of them.

  1. Read a SF short story or novel. If you need a suggestion for which to read, may I (ahem) recommend any of my stories? Click the Stories tab. Or you could read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, a classic that’s 200 years old this year.
  2. Watch a SF movie or TV show. Luckily, there are plenty of quality choices these days.

That takes care of the two obvious ways to celebrate. Now on to the more unconventional ways:

  1. Prepare and serve some SF-themed food and drink. You can get some great ideas for this in posts by Mike Brotherton, Meg Shields, Meredith Woerner and at a site called aliencuisine.com. There are, by the way, at least two mixed drink recipes called the Captain Nemo—this one, and this one.
  2. Listen to some SF-inspired music. You have plenty from which to choose, including movie and TV show sound tracks and various SF-inspired rock songs.
  3. Dress as your favorite SF character.
  4. Play a SF-themed video game.
  5. Write a fan email or letter to your favorite (living) SF author. (The Poseidon’s Scribe blog accepts comments. Just saying.)
  6. Write a review of a favorite SF story or novel.
  7. Build a model of your favorite SF vehicle.
  8. Grab a partner and play a game of 3-dimensional chess.

If your celebratory mood takes a creative twist, consider the following:

  1. Compose, or just hum, your very own SF song.
  2. Draw a picture of a musical instrument of the future.
  3. Write a SF-inspired poem.
  4. Imagine how life could be different for someone like you living 100 or 1000 years from now.
  5. Pick a current trend you’ve observed (social, governmental, or any type of trend), and extrapolate it in your mind, imagining the future implications.
  6. Make a list of possible future sports, or ways science may influence current sports.
  7. Draw or write a description of the most bizarre alien you can think of.
  8. Draw or write a description of your own SF vehicle. It can be any type of vehicle, traveling through (or within or athwart, or whateverwhichway) any medium.
  9. Draw or write a description of the house (or other building) of the future.
  10. Imagine what your current job will be like for workers 100 or 1000 years from now.
  11. Imagine your favorite super-power. What is it? What problems might occur if you had it? What scientific advances might have to happen for you to get that super-power?
  12. Write an outline for your own SF story or novel or screenplay. Or write the whole tale.

Happy Natio—er, I mean Galactic Science Fiction Day. Perhaps you can think of ways to celebrate that are beyond the imagination of—

Poseidon’s Scribe