Posts filed under ‘PUBLISHED WORKS’
CAT’S EYES, PART III
CAT’S EYES, PART III
Joe met Howard at their usual spot and shared small talk through the first few rounds. Howard noticed that Joe suddenly became quiet and stared at him. Finally, Howard asked, “What’s on your mind, buddy?”
“Howard, I’ve been thinking about the eye transplant procedure you told me about.”
“Stop thinking about it, Joe. You have to take the person’s eyes out while they’re still alive. Except for some kidney and liver transplants, most transplants are not done until the donor is declared dead. Even for someone brain-dead, they do not begin harvesting until they pull the plug, and by then it’s too late for an eye transplant. I can’t imagine a family consenting to a transplant of a loved one’s eyes while the patient is still alive.”
Joe hesitated, and then said, “I don’t want human eyes.”
Howard cried, “What the hell, are you nuts?”
His raised voice brought stares from the other patrons who then rapidly returned to their drinks.
Joe continued, “Listen, Howard. I’ve been doing some research on my own, along with something I’ve observed in cats.”
Howard laughed, “This has got to be good,” but his body language indicated a total lack of ease.
Joe said, “I was looking up research involving cats and ran across an article published in The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences concerning the cat’s central nervous system: how it easily repairs itself. Maybe this is true of other nerves, like the optic nerve. Maybe the optic nerve could join with that of another species and restore sight.”
Howard began to feel uncomfortable. “Where the hell are you going with this, Joe?”
“I’m going blind. That’s where I’m going. I know I won’t be totally blind, but in my profession; I might as well be.”
“Now listen, Joe. There are plenty of options you can use to continue writing. Look into them.”
“Howard, I want to continue writing as I do now, just me, a pencil and a piece of paper. I don’t want a life where I can’t sit down anywhere I want and write. I’ve also become acquainted with what is known about how cats see. There’s something else, and you’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Joe, I’ve passed that milestone some time ago.”
“I think cats can see something I can’t, that humans can’t. I want my eyes replaced with that of a cat.”
“Shit, Joe, you are nuts.”
“No, listen, Howard. A baboon heart was once implanted into a child when there was no hope of the child surviving. Pig valves are routinely used in heart surgery. Why not transplant cat’s eyes?”
They drank another beer in silence. Joe was talked out and Howard was pondering about what Joe had said. Howard broke the silence. “Damn it, Joe. I’ll talk to my friend. I also want to find out more about cat vision. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see what I can do. And Joe.”
“Yes?”
“I still think you’re nuts.”
Joe’s mood lifted, “Thanks buddy. You’ve given me some hope.”
CAT’S EYES, PART III
CAT’S EYES, PART III
Joe met Howard at their usual spot and shared small talk through the first few rounds. Howard noticed that Joe suddenly became quiet and stared at him. Finally, Howard asked, “What’s on your mind, buddy?”
“Howard, I’ve been thinking about the eye transplant procedure you told me about.”
“Stop thinking about it, Joe. You have to take the person’s eyes out while they’re still alive. Except for some kidney and liver transplants, most transplants are not done until the donor is declared dead. Even for someone brain-dead, they do not begin harvesting until they pull the plug, and by then it’s too late for an eye transplant. I can’t imagine a family consenting to a transplant of a loved one’s eyes while the patient is still alive.”
Joe hesitated, and then said, “I don’t want human eyes.”
Howard cried, “What the hell, are you nuts?”
His raised voice brought stares from the other patrons who then rapidly returned to their drinks.
Joe continued, “Listen, Howard. I’ve been doing some research on my own, along with something I’ve observed in cats.”
Howard laughed, “This has got to be good,” but his body language indicated a total lack of ease.
Joe said, “I was looking up research involving cats and ran across an article published in The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences concerning the cat’s central nervous system: how it easily repairs itself. Maybe this is true of other nerves, like the optic nerve. Maybe the optic nerve could join with that of another species and restore sight.”
Howard began to feel uncomfortable. “Where the hell are you going with this, Joe?”
“I’m going blind. That’s where I’m going. I know I won’t be totally blind, but in my profession; I might as well be.”
“Now listen, Joe. There are plenty of options you can use to continue writing. Look into them.”
“Howard, I want to continue writing as I do now, just me, a pencil and a piece of paper. I don’t want a life where I can’t sit down anywhere I want and write. I’ve also become acquainted with what is known about how cats see. There’s something else, and you’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Joe, I’ve passed that milestone some time ago.”
“I think cats can see something I can’t, that humans can’t. I want my eyes replaced with that of a cat.”
“Shit, Joe, you are nuts.”
“No, listen, Howard. A baboon heart was once implanted into a child when there was no hope of the child surviving. Pig valves are routinely used in heart surgery. Why not transplant cat’s eyes?”
They drank another beer in silence. Joe was talked out and Howard was pondering about what Joe had said. Howard broke the silence. “Damn it, Joe. I’ll talk to my friend. I also want to find out more about cat vision. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see what I can do. And Joe.”
“Yes?”
“I still think you’re nuts.”
Joe’s mood lifted, “Thanks buddy. You’ve given me some hope.”
After the two friends parted, Joe went home to write. Howard went home to research cat’s eyes and how their vision differed from that of humans.
CAT’S EYES, PART II
CAT’S EYES, PART II
Joe thought constantly about what his friend had told him about the chance for a transplant and of his condition. Macular degeneration was a slow process, for some not so slow, but the endpoint was certain.
Joe was writing in his study Sammy walked in. Sammy was short for Samantha, and she was hell on wheels, or rather, paws. His older cat, Sally’s life was drastically disrupted by this new member of the family. When Sammy wasn’t running around like a maniac or sleeping, she was stalking Sally. Poor meek Sally was leading a tormented life. As Sammy entered the study, she was her usual hyperactive self. She paused to be petted, then ran about madly bouncing off the piles of books scattered around the house. In the middle of her insane race, she did something that Joe had seen both Sammy and Sally do. She stopped in her tracks, sat down, and gazed at the ceiling. She was watching something, something that Joe could not see, yet it took up her full attention. Sammy turned her head from side to side as if following a vision. After a few moments she returned to her manic activity.
What is she seeing? Joe thought. His writer’s mind began to work in overdrive. Among other genres, he wrote horror. Maybe she’s seeing ghosts, he thought. Imagine if I could see what she is seeing. Joe anticipated his next drinking session with Howard.
RETURNING TO SHORT STORIES
CAT’S EYES
Cat’s Eyes was published Books To Go Now in 2011.
The story involves a writer going blind and, as a last resort, comes up with a bizarre solution.
CAT’S EYES, PART I
Joe Flannelly sat with his good friend, Howard Long, at their standard table in their favorite pub. The first few rounds of beer went down easy and fast. When Joe lifted his glass and said, “Here’s looking at you, Howard.” But Joe offered his toast without his usual cheerfulness. In reality, he had offered the toast out of habit putting little thought into it.
Howard shook his head and mumbled, “Shit, Joe, can’t you come up with another toast? You say the same damn thing every time we get together for some beers. Okay for shit’s sake, I’m an ophthalmologist. I got it the first time you said it years ago.”
Joe’s expression suddenly grew serious, and he yelled, “Fuck you!” This was unlike Joe who had always appeared mellow, happy.
Taken by surprise, Howard asked, “Are you okay, buddy?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m not. I thought I might need glasses, so I had my eyes checked the other day. I have the wet form of macular degeneration, the worst type. I’ll lose the central part of my vision to the disease. I’m a writer, damn it. How the hell can I write like that? I’m only fifty-five, and my career is just beginning to come together. How do I finish the work I want to do? I might as well be dead.”
You could cut the silence with a knife.
Finally, Howard said, “Shit, man, I can’t imagine a tougher break.”
“I know, Howard, I guess my career will soon come to an end.”
Howard asked, “Can’t you dictate to the computer? I hear the programs have improved.”
Joe answered, “I guess I could, but that’s not my style. I need to see my words on a sheet of paper and think about where the story is going.”
Howard looked intently at his friend. Joe sipped his beer. He could tell Howard was struggling with a thought. Joe asked, “What’s on your mind?”
Howard took a long drag on his beer.
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone this.” His tone became hushed. “I have a friend, went to school with him. He’s an eye surgeon. He’s been experimenting with eye transplants and told me he just recently had a breakthrough.”
Excited, Joe said, “That’s great, Howard. That means there’s hope for me.”
“Not so fast, Joe. So far my friend has only experimented on animals. And the breakthrough has a major drawback. The donor eyes, to be useful, must be harvested functioning not just functional before the time of death. And the recipient must still possess some vision so that the sensory apparatus is intact. It’s not like any other transplant. The donor and recipient must be in the same room for a rapid transplant to ensure a chance of success. If the method was ever used, it would raise a host of moral questions. Taking the eyes of a living subject would leave the patient blind. That is if that I had any more life to live. I can’t imagine anyone volunteering offering their eyesight unless death is certain. Just around the corner like conditions such as euthanasia.
MY PREDICTIONS
MY PREDICTIONS
I want to take a moment to point out how, purely by accident, I managed to predict the past and possibly the future.
In my short story, The Superior Species, I predicted the past. In that story the plot centered around the cloning of two Neanderthals with the use of tissue harvested from a frozen Neanderthal body discovered after an unusual snow melt.
With the birth and development of the two Neanderthals it rapidly becomes clear that they are the superior species and that knowledge spell disaster for the clones.
Since that story, which was written in early 2006, surprisingly new facts have been determined concerning our distant relative. These facts were covered in the New York Times magazine section published on January 15, 2007. Among the details described were that the Neanderthals created jewelry and specialized tools. They painted their bodies with the pigments they made. They buried their dead. And the anatomy of their trachea suggests that they may have been capable of speech. All this indicates that the Neanderthals were much more intelligent than first thought and that they were a more superior species than we give them credit for being.
Here is a link to my posts made in February 2024. You will find The Superior Species among them.
February | 2024 | Walttriznastories’s Blog
In another one of my short stories, Martian Rebirth, I describe a Martian culture existing in the core of the planet. They began living there after their atmosphere began to thin. To support their population there was an underground ocean providing water. I have not posted this story yet but soon will.
Since I wrote that story space probes have found the suggestion that water exists beneath the surface of the planet. Perhaps future probes which land on the surface of the planet will confirm this possibility.
I am a writer of science fiction and horror. I feel I have joined a long line of science fiction writers whose imagination proved to reveal reality.
Let’s hope that my horror stories remain fiction.
THE GHOST OF E. A. POE
THE GHOST OF E. A. POE
My latest published short story, The Price of Success, was published this month by Yellow Mama. Accompanying the story was a drawing by April Lafleur which capture the essence of the story.
The Price of Success reveals the unexpected results a writer of horror has when collaborating with the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe. Accepting help from the ghost the struggling writer realizes, only too late, the consequences of his decision.
The primary location of this story is Baldwin’s Book Barn one of my favorite bookstores located in West Chester, PA. Home of one of the finest used bookstores in the country.
ANNOTHER STORY ACCEPTED
A break from my The War of the Worlds posts.
I just recently learned that YELLOW MAMA has accepted my short story, The Price of Success, for publication. It will appear in issue #106 on October 15, 2024. This is a first for me for this story has been previously published.
I want to share with writers who follow my blog of some trends I have notice concerning publishers.
More and more publishers are considering and accepting previously published work from writers. If you own the rights. Also, many publishers now accept simultaneous submissions. In the past you would submit a work and sometimes wait nearly a year to be told whether it was accepted or rejected. From some publishers, you would never hear from them. Of course, this means rejection. But in the meantime, you sat on the work waiting for an answer. Now you can submit your work to multiple publishers at the same time which increases the odds of getting published and can serve to reduce the waiting time.
Finally, another recent trend is the existence of podcasts looking for stories.
I hope this discussion helps writers to find a home for their work.
I must mention that the setting for The Price of Success is Baldwin’s Book Barn. This was my second published short story which took place at this location. My next post will discuss this fantastic store of used books.
HAWAIIAN DISASTERS IN PRINT
HAWAIIAN DISASTERS IN PRINT
There is a new novel recently published by Michael Crichton, posthumously entitled, Eruption, involving the threat of a volcanic eruption on The Big Island of the Hawaiian islands. The novel also involves the revelation of a secret of the military. Currently this novel is on the New York Times bestseller list for hardcover fiction.
I mention this for there is another novel, published in the recent past, which also involves the eruption of volcanos along the entire chain of the Hawaiian islands. What follows is a disaster of unbelievable proportions which will change the world forever.
For those interested, contact me and I will give further information about this novel.
MY LATEST PUBLICATION: REVENGE AND REDEMPTION
I’m taking a break today from posting parts of my short story, Doomed By Progress, in order to share a link to my just published short story, Revenge and Redemption. For those familiar with my work, you will see that this is a departure from my usual fare.
WARNING
The website, YELLOW MAMA, is a mature website.
Also, my story contains some rather strong language. But this is necessary to make the character who he is.
I hope you enjoy the story.
DOOMED BY PROGRESS: A SCIENCE FICTION SHORT STORY, PART V
DOOMED BY PROGRESS
Due to technical difficulties, I will need to postpone my posting of The Ultimate Experiment. So, for now, I will begin posting my short story, Doomed by Progress. This story was published by Aphelion in May 2010.
It began slowly, then snowballed. It is difficult to use that term for there was little snow or ice left on the planet. Cities, once told of the possibility of flooding, were either flooded or completely underwater. The increase in use of air conditioners throughout newly emerging economies, with the requisite demand for greater amounts of electricity led to stronger economies.
However, none of the countries, with this new wealth, spent any money on infrastructure. The problem being that this new fortune was lining the pockets of politicians and others in power.
As a result, electric grids in these counties with new wealth began to fail. And after a few years, because of the dramatic increase in temperature due to the vast amount of heat from air conditioners, in conjunction with the pollution contributed by the coal burned power plants to produce the demand for electricity, areas once appreciating the benefit of cool air, became too hot for human habitation.
Initially, people living in these areas of ever-growing heat sought out any place providing comfort. Malls, stores and movie theaters were crowded beyond belief. But as electricity became more expensive and unreliable, these “oases slowly disappeared.
It began slowly, then snowballed. It is difficult to use that term for there was little snow or ice left on the planet. Cities, once told of the possibility of flooding, were either flooded or completely underwater. The increase in use of air conditioners throughout newly emerging economies, with the requisite demand for greater amounts of electricity led to stronger economies.
However, none of the countries, with this new wealth, spent any money on infrastructure. The problem being that this new fortune was lining the pockets of politicians and others in power.
As a result, electric grids in these counties with new wealth began to fail. And after a few years, because of the dramatic increase in temperature due to the vast amount of heat from air conditioners, in conjunction with the pollution contributed by the coal burned power plants to produce the demand for electricity, areas once appreciating the benefit of cool air, became too hot for human habitation.
Initially, people living in these areas of ever-growing heat sought out any place providing comfort. Malls, stores and movie theaters were crowded beyond belief. But as electricity became more expensive and unreliable, these “oases slowly disappeared.
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