Well finally back into the grind, and found out that

[nadinbrzezinski]

I was having trouble telling a simple short story. For the last three months I have not done much writing, and I feel like a blind man groping to get it right. Anyhow, that got me thinking about craft. (And yes I finally got a couple books on craft I have been eyeing for a while) One of them is Alice Laplante's The Making of a Story, which is also used in creative writing courses. And I started going through the chapter on the short story, and what is the short form. To put it mildly, at times it is good to go back to the basics and read a book on this... or even a chapter. In some ways it helps to focus me on why the short story I started writing today was WRONG... can you all say morality play? We all hate to read those... and getting over preachy can be a serious problem, Hell, later today I may just put this on, as an example of a really bad short story... if you can call it that way. Nor is it finished. Then again I may just put it in the trash and start again

It is not bad to go back to the basics from time to time folks. In fact, it is necessary. And yes, we all need to do that, At the very least it will help to center you into the work.

Oh and yes, started taking notes on my trusty word processor, which I can later review at my leisure.

[The Backlash Cometh]

1. Well, don't tell that to J.K. Rowling.

She said that her next works will involve social messages, which her Harry Potter stories were chock full of.

Then there's the Narnia story which is now on its second series. Very big on morality.

Maybe there's a difference between social messages and morality plays? A fine line? And I'm guessing that that thing might be an entertaining story? I'm just guessing. I don't really know.

[nadinbrzezinski]

2. Let me post it and you can judge

because there is a fine line, and this short story overdoes it.












Future Shock
By
Pseudonym

Those who refuse to learn from the past, are condemned to repeat it...
Unknown source.
Dirt, wires, pieces of a former life. This was like cleaning up the home of an old person after they passed. Yet, this was about the world, and humanity. There was not much left to do, but clean up. There was not much left but hope that the Ark would work. It was sad, but a necessary process. Technology, we told ourselves, may still save humans from themselves. When they told me to leave my PDA I balked. It had all my contacts, and my life was in there. The guards pointed to the monitor, It showed the rising waters swallowing a large city, my former home of New York. I felt a tear forming as I put the PDA in the trash, with the snippets of many other lives. The Ark was in front of me, or rather one of three ships. I was selected, lord knows why, to board number three. To this day I wonder why? I wasn't anything special. I did not win a Nobel price, nor did I know technical information that may help us survive.
The first ship took off, and we saw in horror as it broke up in upper atmosphere. We knew that ten thousand souls died at that moment. We were all taken, under heavy guard, to the barracks. I had a bad feeling about this. Who was doing this? There were billions of poor souls who were stuck in areas of the world where there was barely enough food and water, when available, was heavily polluted. We were led into the barracks as the monitors were turned on. The leaders of the Ark Project believed we selected few had a right to see what was going on.
"We claim responsibility." a voice droned. There was no face, as if it mattered. Whoever blew this, was responsible for the murder of ten thousand souls.
"Well, there they go again." I turned and saw the origin of the voice. She was a young lady, like the rest of us. The age limit for the Ark was thirty-five, expect for ship's officers.
"I don't know if I can blame them."
"You can't. They're terrorists, pure and simple."
"Name's Jack, Jack Connor." I extended my hand, she smiled, and pushed her glasses up. Like me, all she wore was the light-blue jumpsuit. We were expected to be put in stasis, which was quite experimental.
"I know, I can read your name tag you silly. Name's Lucy. I was selected because I am a doctor in developmental genetics, and I was not previously committed."
"I know, they didn't want any married couples. They said that once we reach our new home, we'd pair up and work to get a New Earth going."
"I know the history, what amazes me is that the Gaia Front is still as this. Like they can stop this."
"Can't say I blame them." I knew that my words may get me taken out of the barracks, to the main gate, and out into the world out there.
"Well, they just killed ten thousand. It might have been us." I nodded. I knew that this was making me nervous. I knew who were some of the members of the Front. Some of my class mates. I didn't know if they were the radicals behind this spectacular explosion, but they started soon after the Ark was announced. Volunteers were to be selected by lottery from around the world, to take the best humanity could offer to the new world. That was a noble idea, except that this room was quite white, with almost nobody who spoke a different language than English, or a different skin color. Racism was not gone, and in my view this looked like a blatant effort at eugenics.
"So you have no problem with them killing ten thousand souls in cold blood?"
"Lucy I don't need preaching, but remember what this project was supposed to do?" She felt silent, as if she did not want to discuss the obvious.
"Many millions are dying from thirst, from hunger, and from environmental depredation. We, yes we, did this to the planet. So ten thousand died in an explosion as the first ark blew up. What about the millions that have died, and the five billion who are expected to die?" Angry faces turned at me. They were not happy to be reminded why many were forced into this program. Nor where they happy to hear standard neo colonial criticism of the system.
"If you think this way, what in God's name are you doing here?" I heard an angry voice from the rear of the barracks.
"Lottery, just like you I presume." I left it unsaid that we were both white, and well connected. The doors to the barracks opened and two stern-faced Military Police walked in. One of them pointed to the door, and I obeyed. I made quite the scene already. They marched me down the walkway, towards the heavily guarded gate. When I reached the end of the path there were some clothes on the ground. They were my old clothes. They didn't have to tell me what to do. I took off the light blue jumpsuit, and donned my old clothes. They felt familiar in a way that my old clothes did not.
One of the guards walked towards me a long wand in her hand. She activated the thing, a sharp whine coming from the machine.
"When you leave the gate, you will not remember the main briefs." The MP was a young officer, and she passed the wand and I felt extremely nauseous. As I was led out the gate, she undressed completely and donned my blue jumpsuit. I guess she was next in the lottery and probably was glad that I said what I said.
***
I walked all day away from the Space Complex, and towards the distant city. The wand did not quite work, and I knew just how bad things were. I also realized that there was still hope, and that the Gaia league had a point. I knew that the complex was the last place that had any kind of modern technology, and as I walked down the road I saw abandoned car after abandoned car. I looked into a couple, looking for water. A few had batteries and battery operated radios. I also saw bodies on the side of the road. Viruses escaped from army facilities at the beginning of the end. The Gaia League claimed that this was not coincidence and were the dreaded genetic bombs. I laughed back then.
I turned one of the radios on, looking for a signal. It is then that I heard the news, the second and third Ark Ships were destroyed on the pads, right after they loaded their passengers. There were a few survivors, but they were mostly dead. I suppressed a tear. Lucy, and that officer, were probably dead. So was any hope for humanity's survival. Then again, the Gaia League claimed they had the way to survive, on this world. The city I saw in the distance, my former home, might be a place to find my friends. I swallowed though. They were directly responsible for the deaths of thirty thousand people. As much as they were selected, and felt they were better than anybody else, they didn't deserve to die.
I turned hearing hoofs hitting the ground. It was a horse drawn cart. The driver stopped the cart and turned towards me. "Need a ride?"
"I could use one friend."
"Hop on." He was a memonite, and I knew they rejected modern technology. In some ways, they were about to be proven right. Their ways were closer to god and sustainabitly.
"Tell me son, you came from that place?" He pointed in the general direction of the space port, while getting the horse to move.
"Yes Sir."
"Heard what happened. Those who put pride before god, will die in the fire of the sky."
"It wasn't god."
"God works in mysterious ways. He gave us this land to work and love. We failed."
"Why are you preaching?" I felt threatened by him, the same way that the Gaia Brotherhood threatened me. They were radicals and fundamentalists.
"Take it anyway you want. But now we have only one world." I smiled and decided against arguing with this man. He was my ride to town, or as close as we could get there.
We rode in silence until the sun was low in the sky. He reached a fork in the road and pointed to the city. "You can come with me, or you can go you're own way. We have seeds that will flower and give us seed for next year. You'll have trouble finding good seed like that in many places."
"Why you telling me this?" I realized he was telling me a great secret.
"We are the people of the Lord, those of us who have staid close to the land." I stepped off the cart and saw him move on. I had still a couple hours to reach the city. As he moved on I finally realized that I had yet to hear a bird, or any other wild life. Perhaps Earth was sterilized.

[The Backlash Cometh]

3. Disclaimer, don't change anything because of me.

(1) Anglo-Caucasian sounds more futuristic than "white."
(2) Name the "connection." We were both "white and well connected," sounds like a cliche. It is something we would say today. What would they say in their time? Anglo-Caucasian and both lived in Lunesta Village where everyone could buy out of their rations.
(3) I was left wondering more about why he didn't catch on earlier that eugenics was taking place. If he had known, then that moment when he gives up his spot on the next ship out would be more of a revelation/turning point, and might give us an idea of what he plans to do next.

(4) I still don't know who his friends were, or who the terrorists were.

(5) It's not too preachy, unless you think that Logan's Run is preachy.

[nadinbrzezinski]

4. I think it has some serious problems, that could be fixed on a rewrite

but the future for this is tops forty years from now


Was inspired by one particular story

And Logan's Run (the book) is far better than the movie... but they have kept their preachiness to a less obvious, or maybe I cannot get my head into this writing thingy and I need to kick myself until I do.

:-)

Three months away from my daily grind was too long