ARTHUR C. CLARK AND I: WE THINK THE SAME BUT HE IS THE BETTER WRITER
I’m sure you’ve read multiple blogs and messages wishing you ‘Happy New Year’. Well of course I wish you that, but I also wish you a ‘Productive New Year’. Whatever you do, do more of it and do it well. Make this a year you’re proud of and can look back on with happiness. I’m going to try to accomplish those goal. We’ll see what happens.
He is the better writer by about 100 orders of magnitude, but I’m trying to catch up.
But seriously, I am in the process of reading his novel, The Songs of Distant Earth. I was lucky enough to be able to search a mass of science fiction novels donated to a small local library. Books for which no room existed. When I saw this novel in the boxes of donations, I immediately acquired the book to bring home. I’m happy I did for now a novel I planned to write, formally on the back burner, is now going into the incinerator.
Let me explain.
I had written a short story, December Omen, as yet unpublished. I will try to find this work a home in the coming year. The work dealt with the end of the world, not a unique subject, but I thought I had a lock on a new scenario. Turns out, Clark beat me to it. We both end the world, but by different means. We both send mankind into the cosmos in order to survive. I through frozen embryos; Clark through genetic material and robotic factories to manufacture mankind on some remote Earth-like planet.
At this point, let me include a fact I know I read somewhere. Whether it is reality or conjecture I do not remember. Chalk that up to maturity (senility). The article dealt with DNA, a very stable molecule, and the possibility to incorporate information using its structure. What a concept! How much information could reside in a gram of DNA?
However, what inspired this piece was a common scenario in both our stories. In the new planet was created no religions would exist. For reasons look at today’s newspaper or read a little history. I could not believe Arthur C. Clark and I had the same thoughts. The commonality, unfortunately, ends in that single instant.
HOPE
I don’t like to get too personal in my blog, but here it goes.
On this Christmas Eve, I’m reviewing the year and it hasn’t been very good. First a divorce, and now my best friend is dying. I’m trying to stay positive but it’s hard. Then I watched once again this video. The little girl is my great niece and the death they mention was my sister.
I wanted to share this video to show that there is still good in the world. Hope and kindness still exist.shttp://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/lady-antebellum-surprises-9-year-old-new-jersey-fan-today-for-third-7for7-installment-277805761.html
.
THE FUTURE
My input has been lacking of late.
This is the month of contemplating the coming year, the future. Also, the time of remembrances, both mellow and hurtful, but they exist and their call must be met.
I have so many thoughts I want to offer you, both about writing and life. Next year I will do my best to meet this goal.
Finally, no matter what holiday you celebrate this month may it be full of joy and laughter.
SUICIDE BOMBERS: WHY DO THEY EXIST?
As predicted, here I go off subject, but current events force me to speak.
I’ve been considering this piece for some time. The recent outrage in Paris has spurred me on to put pencil to paper and fingers to keyboard.
My thinking on this article began by considering the Japanese kamikaze pilot, of course, the current wave of suicide bombers followed. The Japanese were also known for their fanatical charges with little hope of success. I’m a World War II nut and am fairly certain I relate facts. The Japanese culture, at that time, was that suicide was preferred rather than accept defeat. That is why, with the dropping of the atomic bombs, lives on both sides were saved.
On a side note, I once read an article about the birth of the Japanese kamikaze idea. The concept was suggested by a Japanese soldier. I don’t remember if he was a pilot, but probably was. Then, during the 1990’s, someone recognized this same individual sitting on a park bench. Apparently the suggestion of self-sacrifice was not followed by action. I mention this, for I feel the idea of self-destruction is instilled in the weak with no future, and through manipulation, no choice.
I remember learning that during World War II, the American public could not understand or relate to the concept of an organized approach to suicide. In war, heroics cost the soldier his life when their backs are against the wall. But the concept of voluntarily committing suicide, to make a point is not present in our thinking. However, that attitude, in some societies and political groups exists today. We have become numbed by the almost daily report of suicide bombers doing their deed somewhere in the world.
We are now confronted with a world where men, women and even children are sent to their deaths. Manipulated to take their lives by those with an agenda of hate masked by religion.
I thought about this topic a great deal, as I’m sure many of us have. How could an individual’s world, with no threat immediately present, be hopeless enough to choose to leave it? How cheap is the value of a human life to those who have an agenda requiring the spread of terror?
STRUGGLING TO GET IT WRITE: CRITICISM AND CRITIQUE
Lately, I have strayed from the purpose of this blog, writing. I beg your forgiveness, although I promise it will happen again. For I live in a world which I understand less and less, and however much off the mark, I have opinions.
For now, however, I am back on course and thoughts of writing flow from my pen. The subject of this piece, as you can see from above, is criticism and critique.
In the early stages of your career, and it never ceases, criticism is its life’s blood, for with other’s help and guidance, that is how your work grows and matures. Although, always remember you are the creator of the work and the final ‘say’ is yours. As a writer it is essential that you believe in yourself and your work, but be able to take criticism and judge it for what it is worth. It is your task to sort through other’s opinions and select which are valid and which are not. It is important to share your work with other, and people you know and respect. But consider their credentials.
I know your mother most likely meets these two requirements, and wants to read your earliest draft. But when she raves, understand that she has a bit of a bias. Then there is your close friend who dropped out of high school and has read nothing but comic books since. Need I say more?
What I suggest as a source of criticism and support is a writers group, for in addition of reviewing your work they can empathize with your journey to becoming and author. But most important, find a group that offers constructive criticism and able to provide suggestions which improve your work.
Research the local writing groups. You will be amazed at how many writers live in your community. If you are unsuccessful in locating other writers, do not give up hope. There exists a host of online sites serving the same purpose. What follows is a sample of what is available.
The first is Critters Workshop.
Next, Absolute Write, less than critique, more and essential for writers.
My Writers Circle
The Young Writers Society
I’m not sure about this site, but obviously never used it. Be careful! https://www.youngwriterssociety.com/?forums
Critique Circle
http://www.critiquecircle.com/
Marketing to writers sometimes feeds as an ‘ego centric’ scam, promising but never delivering. As in all things in life, be careful. If it is too good to be true, walk away. I say this for the sites here appeared in Writers Digest. Some years ago, I checked Preditors & Editors for a list of agents appearing in their classified section. Preditors & Editors suggested you stay away from all of them.
RANTS & RAVES: THE PRICE OF OIL
Okay, I may be slightly paranoid. Perhaps beyond slightly, but here is another example of how I think we are being manipulated, by having ‘experts’ telling us that the sky is falling.
Someone out there please help me understand this. It wasn’t long ago when the price of oil was about to exceed 50$/barrel and ‘experts’ predicted a catastrophe for that would be a first. Economic distress would surely follow. Now, years later, the price of oil has fallen below 50$/barrel and ‘experts’ are predicting economic distress sure to follow. Are we being manipulated, do ‘experts’ not know what the hell is going on or am I just getting too old to take everything I’m told as ‘the truth’.
Is there anyone out there that can offer guidance?
I know this blog is dedicated to writing, but our writing, in some way or another – even if it be horror, is based on the world around us.
Let me know what you think.
MY FARMER DAUGHTER, A PROUD DAD
I know this is not about writing, but I can’t help myself.
In the past, I’ve posted pieces about my daughter, Lynn, who has chosen farming as a career. I’m proud of her for putting a work of love above the almighty dollar.
She’s been working at the Rodale farm, supporting St. Luke’s hospitals for a while now producing organically grown produce. In the beginning, she provided 12 crops for three hospitals. Now she is growing 30 crops for six facilities. I recently visited her farm, directly across from one of the hospitals, and was impressed by the operation and the knowledge she has gained. I walked among the fields, originally five acres but has grown by nine, not all used for farming. She told me of things I never considered when it came to organic farming. Like the fact that her fields required a buffer zone from nearby commercial fields to eliminate chemical applications, and how these zones depended on what the adjacent farm was growing. Buffer zones near farms using tractors to spread chemicals require less of a buffer than crops that spread agents with airplanes.
My girl really loves her work and I see a productive future for her. I hope you read at this article.
A PERSONAL LOSS
Just recently I learned that my baby is beyond repair, rust of the underside is the culprit. This was the second car I ever owned, purchased in 1975, a 1973 Super Beetle. The reason for the purchase was the theft of my first car, a 1970 Beetle while I was working in the Bronx. I drove my 1973 Beetle in New Jersey. Next was a trip to Florida. After driving to Florida I drove my love to California, and finally it was transported to Pennsylvania in 1985. Residing in Pennsylvania became its death knell. What has ceased to exist is not so much a car, but the representation of a fountain of memories.
Here is a brief history.
I learned to drive while in the air force during pilot training, stationed in Selma, Alabama, in a Beetle. I knew how to fly, but not how to drive. I recall driving the backroads and, when another Beetle passed, honking at each other. I purchased my first Beetle in 1970 while stationed at Sheppard AFB, in Wichita Falls, Texas. I loved it; my first car. When released from the service, (I washed-out of pilot training and became a missile crew commander) I drove my car home to Newark, New Jersey. As previously mentioned, while working in the Bronx my car was stolen. The sense of loss I experienced was extreme. My first car was gone.
Now the memories associated with my 1975 Super Beetle.
My mother who died in 1981 at the age of 59, rode in that car. The car transported me and my mother on shopping trips and excursions to buy Christmas trees. I drove the car from Newark to Miami to continue my career in nephrology research. When the location of my job changed, I drove my Super Beetle from Miami to Los Angeles, my brother as my companion.
My Beetle and I spent seven years in Los Angeles where one time my next door neighbor needed a ride and got to meet Peggy Lee, quite unexpectedly.
So many memories caught up in a vehicle. Now I have only memories for my Super Beetle is dead.
Walttriznastories's Blog 