Physic…phycisy…aw nuts!

Science fiction is responsible, in one way or another, for much of our world today. It is because of Asimov that discussions about robotics become more of a discussion about the ethics of robotics. I could go on for days dishing out other examples but the point is made; science fiction is ground zero for ideas that shape our future. It’s also one of the only ways I know to put completely ludicrous cartoon physics in the same scenario with hard science fact and emerge with plausible solutions to difficult plot traps.

A plot trap is where a character winds up in a no-win scenario. For the writer, it’s a scary predicament. Now you may think that something like ‘shooting J.R.’ is the way out of the plot trap, but that’s not even close. Shooting J.R. is purely intentional, as are things like the Red Wedding scene in Game of Thrones. What I’m talking about is like this: Superman just swallowed the kryptonite key that disables the nuke that’s been surgically built into his body and it going off in one…never mind, it went off.

The only way to get ‘Supe’ out of the soup is to employ something I call ‘quantum hogwash’, yeah, really. Check it out: In the instant that Superman is blown to bits his atoms are free of the kryptonite and return to their indestructible state. When a person dies his consciousness lives on (perfectly plausible and measurable by modern medicine mind you) for at least a minute, some say up to five. In that five minutes it is Superman’s will that drives his atoms to do what our human atoms cannot - fly. He flies himself back together and emerges from the explosion just in time to jail the mad doctor and plant one on Lois. But quantum hogwash is not done yet. The job of quantum hogwash isn’t to make the story work out the way the author wants, it’s to land in the brain of someone who needs a mission.

A lot of physicists are science fiction fans. A lot of them will tell you that the reason they are in their field of endeavor is because they knew that, given enough time, they could make a transporter or a lightsaber a reality and that’s great news. We need a transporter and I don’t know too many people who wouldn’t love having a lightsaber (even a small one that makes toast when you slice bread). It’s even better news because there’s no way that I’m even close to being smart enough to be a physicist. I had to use my spellchecker to even spell it right. So that really smart scientist who understands all of that math-y stuff is my go-to guy.

The title ‘science fiction author’ allows me to create new ways to travel through time and space or even remove the consciousness of a human being and put into an appliance without any reprisals from the scientific community. But I’m not like that. No, I convince myself that I’m am a step farther away from the cheese wheel by employing the mathematical formula of quantum hogwash: C=P (conceivable = plausible).

Is it plausible that an advanced civilization could write computer code onto the surface of molecules? Yeah, it’s conceivable. Oh, then that must mean that it’s plausible. I just read a scientist’s statement that said we could (in the future some time) conceivably convert a person’s whole consciousness into computer code. Hmm, so then what if we put that code on a collection of molecules that happen to be a refrigerator? Granted, it’s not as cool as a lightsaber but it is cool to think that someday, some real physic…phycisy… smart guy might read about it in my story and decide to make it a reality.  

File it under: Why I love being a sci-fi author.

Many ways to rock

I used to rock.

I started when I was eight years old and by the time I was fifteen I was busking in the streets of towns around Colorado with an impressive repertoire. Later came bands and tours, songwriting and recording. Venues grew larger and shows got more complex. One band even made to LA to showcase for record companies. We were pretty good (he said with a satisfied nod). As a vocalist I have received glowing reviews from major labels A&R guys, music magazines and newspapers.

In 2005 we opened for Smash Mouth at the Fiesta Bowl in Tempe, AZ. I remember getting off the stage after playing this show for thousands of people. I had given it my all. I had ‘left it all on the stage’ as they say, and I felt fantastic. It was a feeling I remember so well that I compare all other accomplishments to it. I considered myself lucky to have experienced such a thing and I doubted it would ever happen again. I was wrong.

Understand that at that time of my life all of my expression went into writing music. I had a writing partner that handled all of the lyrics. He was an award-winning poet with a degree in English and a very talented man, still is. I wrote the music, he wrote the lyrics. I never thought I could write, especially when faced with the challenge of being compared to such an educated and talented writer. So, I put all of my efforts into the music. Tha band of course contributed heavily as a band should. It’s a collaborative effort after all and we were all proud of what we did, but there was something missing. I didn’t even know it. In fact, it has taken me years to figure out.

Bear with me, there is a reason for all of this back story.

After many years of trying to make it in the music business and achieving only moderate success I left the band. My life up to that point was the band so this was a big change for me. After taking some time to chill out and take a breath (some call it a sabbatical) I found myself once again bursting with creative energy. I began writing music again but these songs needed words. Once I started rummaging around I found that I had a lot of them.. Soon the blank pages started to fill, first with lyrics, then with poems. It was around this time that my dad called me and told me that he’d written a book. I was stunned. I had never known the man to be a writer. My day job for all those years had been as a graphic designer so I helped him layout his book. Then it occurred to me: if my dad can do it, so can I.

I started thinking about what I wanted to say and eventually the story started to form. Soon I was typing away furiously, learning and researching not only my story but the ‘how to’ of writing. There were many stumbles along the way and many, many times I did not think I was good enough. I didn’t have an English degree and even though we had parted ways I would always be compared to my old writing partner; the genius, published poet. Still, I kept on. Winston Churchill’s words became a mantra. “Never surrender.” I continued submitting works, taking harsh and hurtful but oh so helpful criticism, and learning, learning and learning some more. Finally, I got a small piece published.

Ironically it was a poem. It was the universe saying, “You are good enough.” Dreams. Those dreams may not come true in the way you thought. They will most likely break your heart several if not many times. But if you never give up on them, they will put it back together better than you ever could have imagined. Dreams grow with you and as you grow and change, so do they.

There are many elements of this story that are crucial to the outcome. The first and most important to me is my partner. Without her I would never had the peace of mind, and contented heart to put the world on pause and kindle the creative fires again. Some people create better when life is blackest, I’m just the opposite, I need peace and pause.

I still play, write and record music and enjoy it very much, but my art is expressed as a writer. In music, a recording is a carefully crafted snapshot. The performance personalizes that recording. Unlike a song, stories and poems don’t need a single moment in which to come alive. They are always on fire, right under the cover of that book.

Never. Give. Up.