Posts Tagged ‘author’

Singularity Utopia

Singularity Utopia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So, the time has come for the Quantum Short Contest, and I’m left with the same state of trying to think of something to write in a method that is usually so easy for me that I barely even try at all—which comes of course with memories flashing back to school when I could never write anything if it was assigned, but could always write anything on my own (hence why, even though have a degree in any form of writing would be cool, I also haven’t even bothered looking into it, ’cause I feel I would hate the classes telling me to do what I already do anyway).

Well, while I try to think of something to write, here’s what I submitted last time:

Flash of Reality

I looked at him as he clicked his pen out of a nervous habit while glancing at his notepad.

“Ok,” he began, trying his best to keep the sound of skepticism out of his voice, but failed, “You say you have the ability to teleport yourself to different worlds?”

I smiled and folded my hands while trying to formulate the right words to explain without sounding even more insane than I already did, “’Worlds’ would suggest ‘planets,’ which is wrong. And I’m not sure if ‘teleport’ is quite right either. To be more accurate, I can at will come to exist in any other reality.”

He looked at me with an expression that suggested he was waiting for the punch-line, but when it clearly wasn’t coming, he reluctantly clicked his pen out and jotted a scribble into his pad—following his pen-strokes, I’m fairly certain he wrote the word “Nuts.”

He looked back up at me while mentally sorting out which question would sound the least insulting to someone who may or may not be nuts, “And… how exactly do you do that, ‘willing yourself to other realities’?”

“I’m not much of a scientist, but I have tried my best to figure it out through library reading on the subject. But did you know, that there is actually a concept that existence only exists because it is observed by conscious observers?”

“You mean, like the tree in the woods; cat in the box—that sort’a thing?”

“Yes, those are thought exercises around the idea that these things exist because a consciousness observed it. On this idea, my existence here only exists because I’m being consciously observed.

“But, I myself am conscious, and therefore making you and all around me exist as well.”

He smiled, “I’m pretty sure I existed on the drive over here before you had the chance to observe me.”

“Yes, but not to me,” I said and let the words sink in before continuing, “Before you got here, you didn’t exist to me—and just as such, I didn’t exist to you. And the ability to fully understand this, allows me to exist anywhere else, anywhere I desire. I can be a rock singer or dragon slayer simply by willing it.”

He looked at me with a confused squint, “Do you me literally, or figuratively? I mean, are you actually talking about transporting your existence at all, or just having an active imagination, or day dreaming?”

“Oh, I mean quite literal, but you do direct us to the right questions. What is the difference between imagination and reality, or dream and wake? How do you know you’re awake right now? How do you know this isn’t a dream, and if it’s dream, which one of us is dreaming?”

“This is getting absurd, but alright. I guess if I really thought about, I really can’t tell—I could come up with logic problems like whose eye am I looking out of as opposed to who’s I’m not, but the answer could just as much be part of the dream.”

“Do you know what a waking dream is?”

He gave his pen a few unconscious clicks, “Yeah, it’s when you’re able to make yourself conscious of your dream and take control of it—are you about to tell me that’s what you do with reality?”

A smile spread across my face, “Exactly—although ‘reality’ is a bit more like a very convincing dream. We’ve all had dreams that for some reason, we believed they had to be real, until we woke-up—even if the dream was absurd, we still believed it. But even those dreams can be broken through with the right amount of convincing. And that’s all that is required here. Convince yourself that this is all just a dream—completely truly be consciously aware that this is something you control, and—poof—it’s all yours.”

He looked at me with a mix of skepticism and pity, and just shook his head, “I’m sorry, although I’m convinced you fully believe your delusion, it’s just too completely unbelievable. I don’t know if I could even write an article on this if I filed it as science-fiction.”

“That was expected,” I said with a smile, “after all, I have been in your place before.”

I look at the man as he absently smiles at me, I couldn’t tell what he possibly meant, beyond an insane rambling. So, with a final shrug, I close my notebook, click my pen and slide it in the spiral, and leave him to his lost mind.

For those who have been around here for a bit, you know what ‘Natural Selection’ is (the rest of you should look at the list over there, and catch up). I have mentioned that I wanted to do another one, but slightly different. While I have been trying not to put too much thought into it while I”m presently working on finishing a novel, I did try doing at least one story for it that I was going to try to put together for a mag submission. But, I never really got anywhere with it. I started it, but then just completely lost the direction to get it where I wanted it to go. What I have I think is at least somewhat interesting, but not what it’s supposed to be at all. It doesn’t tie in right with the universe I created so far for ‘Natural Selection.’ Although the character concept I have in this will probably be what I’m keeping, except for a slight timeline change, everything else would most likely get changed. And yes, I started writing this back during last year’s seemingly unending ‘Snowmageddon.’

Fallen Snow

English: Fallen leaves in snow.

 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Another snowfall—at least “snow” is what we called it. I’m of the last generation who would remember when snow reflected memories of child play and laughter—but now the word “snow” was simply what we called it hoping we didn’t think of what it really was. Hoping that memories of the sweet smell of frozen rain would replace the bitter stench so thick that you had no choice but to taste it—and always know what it really was.

The ashes of the fallen lay thick in gathered piles.

The snow came less frequent than it used to, but that only meant there were fewer of us left.

They have been hunting us throughout this world since I was a child. I remember when they first came—the ground was covered with real snow then, from a real snow fall the night before. I was excited to see it, as any child would have been—no school, snowmen and snow forts fully armed with snowballs to build—but I barely left my front door when the ground shook casting the loose snow through the air. The sky opened up as if a gaping hole was being torn open, and the whole of what was the sky became filled with a mass so large that it appeared to have no edges.

I had no idea what I was seeing; I had no idea how I was supposed to react to it. I stared in wonder, like one the many science fiction novels I’ve read just came to life before me. Everyone was outside, staring upward, as uncertain as I was—my mother was there holding my little sister, but I barely registered their presence as I was enthralled by the mass that just replaced the sky.

I don’t know how long after its arrival it was ‘til it made its first move, for when it was first seen, time didn’t seem to move in a normal fluctuation anymore, but eventually, its mass began to slide apart miles across, and revealed a cavern as dark as its own mass. And from the darkness of that cavern they dropped down like a disturbed swarm from a hornet’s nest.

We ran as those who didn’t run fast enough became scorched bones and ash. Eventually we gathered and mass a means to fight back, but the strategies constantly failed against their forces only to eventually evolve only in learning to hide as they tore this whole world apart. Fear became the normal state of being.

After they cut through the masses of us, rumors started that they were capturing some of us. No one knew why, but many had their own ideas, from past stories of creatures from the beyond collecting us to experiment on. The stories were always seen as only stories, until now when so much of them were already beginning to look so true.

The years went by, and the fighting slowed, but mostly because there we so few of us now that it was easier for them to take their time, and simply pluck out the stragglers for sport.

And so the snow falls. I survived it all long enough to reach an age where my grandparents used to predict the weather through the pain in their bones—my pain is constant and sharp.

Playground Temporarily Closed :-(

Playground Temporarily Closed 😦 (Photo credit: Adam Arroyo)

Well, it would seem that it is coming close to the time for me to take my traditional annual hiatus from the internet that I just started last year (it’s a tradition now). Though, last year it was for NaNoWriMo, this year I am not participating with NaNo (this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t—unless you’re also too busy with paying projects), and I’m taking off a month early. I mentioned a list of things that I’m trying to get done, ‘the Dark Crystal’ submission, a couple contest submissions, etc, and I’m really trying to squeeze all that in, and so to make that more doable, I must temporarily remove the land of the internet for a bit.

So, much like last time, I’ll be popping in to check mail and such, then popping right back out to never see it again until the next day to check mail, all the while writing ‘til my fingers cramp and arthritis themselves into permanently awkward positions.

But, being as how leaving this place unsupervised for a month last year allowed some of you to wander off and completely forget your way back here altogether, I will at least try to bombard you with reasons for why you hover here to begin with before I go. I have two ‘How I Write’ posts that I will be posting (the POV thing that I promised forever ago, and one about openings), I have at least one flash that I’m going to throw in, plus I have a review that I plan to do for ‘Agents of SHIELD’ (I’m waiting on the second ep before I do a review—plus, since I normally do two reviews for TV stuff, I need to find something else to review… open to suggestions). And, I haven’t done a food post in awhile, I’ll see about throwing something in… not sure what right now, since I haven’t really done anything new lately (though there are a few things I would like to do).

So, yea, next week, I’ll throw all that at you, then you will no longer see me until… dun-dun-dun! December! Assuming that I have the Dark Crystal thing done and ready to submit by then… which I should, but still, that’s my key goal with all this, but finishing my novel for submission on top of everything. So… yep.

Lightspeed

Lightspeed (Photo credit: i be GINZ)

I push the throttle to full and plunge through the void as existence blazes past me as no more than a perpetual glowing wall.

I have no idea how much of a lead I have on them, I’m mostly running on hope that I have any legitimate gain at all. The more I think about it, the more I get the sickly paranoid feeling that they’ve already caught-up, and if I went back to the cargo hold, I’d see them slithering through the shadows.

I don’t even know for certain where I’m going, and moving at these speeds without a destination isn’t normally considered safe—the navigation computer has been blaring its warning alarms at me since I entered into the jump.

I need time to think—I need to find somewhere to stop and hide, and come up with a plan. But nowhere is safe—not even for a minute’s rest.

I swear I can feel their miasmic breath across the back of my neck. I look despite sense, and see nothing but the empty cabin and my own reflection across the panels—staring back at me—mocking me with my repeating questions of fight-or-flight.

They killed her—she’s dead—and all I can do is run for my own life—running into oblivion fueled with cowardice.

I look down at the navigation, and see the Return Home on its menu—it would take me headlong back to them. Chances of getting out alive pretty much don’t exist, but I could sure as hell make them feel my pain.

I hit the return, and the warning alarm finally calms. I flip open the red panel, smash the glass below, and flip the switches that begin the count-down.

I sit back in my chair, and wait.

Samurai Duel

Samurai Duel (Photo credit: warpafx)

I unsheathed my sword with a fluid movement and presented its sheen as a warning towards my opponent, “Come for me!”

With my taunt fueling him, he shot from his spot, and I charged from mine. Our blades struck and found flesh, drawing lines of blood.

I fingered at the wound that stretched up my right bicep, and he, wondering if I just removed his appendix for him.

“Draw!” We heard in slurred voice from the side-line, our only available witness to the duel.

“Draw?” my challenger questioned, “Well, what the hell are we supposed to do with that? Who hit who first, you drunk old fool?”

The witness narrowed his eyes at the assigned label, “I told you, boy, it was a draw. You both drew your bloods at the exact same time. Now if ya want, you can both hack at each other all night, but I imagine we’ll all be sober before that gets us anywhere and completely forget what the point was.”

My opponent threw his arms out and looked more defeated by the witness than me, “Well… what…” He looked at me with increasing exasperation, “What the hell are we doing, then? Are we gonna go again, or what?”

I just looked at him, and with barely a thought, I drew my dagger, and draped the blade across my opposite bicep, creating a sting of red.

“There,” I said sheathing my blades, “My blood is drawn, now let us go back in and drink before the feeling sets in.”

My opponent stared, stunned and at a continued loss, “But… you insulted… my wife, wasn’t it? That can’t go… you-know-what, screw it…” He finally said and sheathed his blade while walking back towards the pub, “You’re buying the rounds—I did win after all…”

2001: A Space Odyssey Moon Shuttle

2001: A Space Odyssey Moon Shuttle (Photo credit: Dallas1200am)

Floating in the infinite nothing as time ticks away, waiting for its moment to take me—to drown me in the great blackness.

The stars stare at me, winking as I gasp for breath. No longer do they cast a blanket of comfort, as my existence chokes away.

Bobbing in a motion with illusion of stillness, there is no escape. The needle throbs, bouncing like a final dance. Giving up on waiting for the inevitable, I close my eyes, suck in a gasp of air, and cast back my guard, and let it all go.

Sensation of a cold burn fills my lungs, and everything is numb as the blackness embraces me.

Thor and his power

Thor and his power (Photo credit: .: Piper :.)

He walked in with an arrogant stride.

Without thought beyond action, I took up the gun from the table beside me and with a death-grip, directed it like an accusing finger, “I won’t go without a fight.”

My finger hugged the trigger tighter, pulling back the hammer with the weight of casting back Mjollnir. Through the milliseconds of wait for the thunder to strike, he rose his palm to me with fingers splayed like claws.

Lightning streaks—burning fills my vision. They’re screaming—all of them—screaming and crying for me to save them. Why have I abandoned them—why did I let them die?

Disconnected from my existence, I lay writhing, crying and laughing in hysteria, “They’re all dead—I’ve failed them all—they’re all dead!”