Posts tagged ‘science fiction’

RANTS & RAVES: SCIENCE FICTION MOVIES WITH NO BELIEVABLE SCIENCE

This may be the rants of an old man, or the product of age and wisdom. Age and wisdom, really.

Anyway, whatever it is, it is not a commercial for Netflix. But if they want to pay me, the income would be welcome. But I doubt they would see my comments worthy of pecuniary rewards. (There goes three years of high school Latin.)

I have been, of late, watching a great deal of horror and science fiction using Netflix’s instant viewing option. Just a side comment. While watching horror, both American and international, I find that Japan, in my opinion, produces the best horror after my limited sampling. The Ring, The Grudge, both remade by U.S. studios, are Japanese movies. I have viewed other Japanese horror offerings that will scare the hell out of you, not through gore and special effects but through story and setting. Some movies had twists I did not see coming, or circumstances that make you think after the movie is over, and experience which stay with you.

Now, back to science fiction.

I’d like to discuss two recent viewings, The Ring of Fire and 500 MPH Storm, both Netflix offerings and both, I’m sure, originally from a cable channel, but I could be wrong. It has happened before.

The first, The Ring of Fire, takes place in Oregon focusing on a corrupt oil company executive and his daughter, an environmentalist, locked in combat over a drilling venture in the state. The premise has the oil company drilling a well far deeper than they were permitted, and instead of tapping a huge dome of oil, headed for magma. Puncturing the magma dome could set off an event, tied to the volcanoes surrounding the Ring of Fire, triggering an event that would destroy all life on the planet. For those who don’t know, the Ring of Fire boarders the Pacific Ocean and is the most geological active area in the world.

I must be open as to why I found this movie lacking. My published novel, New Moon Rising, involves a catastrophic event also involving the Ring of Fire. First, as I point out in my novel, scientists insist that geological events occurring in the Ring of Fire are unconnected. The movie assumes that every volcano is connected to a source which would cause them all to explode because of the drilling in Oregon. Finally, the method the characters in the movie use to solve the end of life on the planet left me chuckling. View it yourself and see if I’m wrong. Just a side note, in my novel, all is not remedied.

The second video, 500 MPH Storm, makes Plan 9 from Outer Space, a classic in its own right, worthy of Oscars, looking like well thought-out science. The science in this film is nonexistent. The scientific logic escapes me. The special effects were poor, at best. The last comment brings me to the inspiration for this article.

In my opinion, some of the science fiction movies produced today have little to do with science. I know it is fiction, but the inclusion of science fact, not just make it up to fit the story, adds enjoyment to the work. Today’s science fiction movies are ruled by special effect and lack any scientific redeeming qualities.

I enjoy including science fact in the science fiction I write. I feel that it allows the educated reader to become more involved with the story.

What do you think?

Here are some links where you may purchase my work.

Melange Books

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html

Barnes & Noble.com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/walt-trizna?store=book&keyword=walt+trizna

 

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna

May 2, 2015 at 5:25 pm Leave a comment

STRUGGLING TO GET IT WRITE: THE SCIENCE FICTION LANDSCAPE

I write from southeastern Pennsylvania, approximately ten miles from Valley Forge, 100 miles from Gettysburg and, perhaps, thousands of years into the future. I am a science fiction writer living in a land of history. In my area, people hold firmly to the past, tenaciously some might say. Preserving houses built hundreds of years ago and land once walked by soldiers in long ago wars.

Yet I, a writer of science fiction, deal in a future denied of the past, where structures gleam of metal and glass and little of the past kept sacred. Perhaps it is time for a reality check. Often, science fiction book covers depict futuristic cities gleaming in their modernism. Yet the reality does not conform to this image, the present truth. The year is 2015, yet how many of us readers of science fiction, the timeline has already past. Think of the years 1984, 2001, 2010, to name but a few of the significant dates in science fiction. Now, look around you and compare the story to the reality.

Nineteen eighty-four is one date which rings most true. In our ever-increasing need for technology and connection to the communication grid, we have given up our freedom as an individual.   Barely a day goes by without the revelation of immense security breaches, all our personal information gone. What I find frightening is that we live in a world where we don’t know who ‘big brother’ is. Is he a computer genius youth, a foreign government, or some criminal out to make a buck? In the end, except for monetary loss, what difference does it make? The difference is, our life is revealed.

Sorry, my mind wondered, back on topic, the futuristic element of science fiction and the fact that some of that future is already here.

As mentioned earlier, the area where I live is steeped in history and clings to the past. How does the need to hold onto the past meld with science fiction? I think that connection of the past and science fiction is kept alive in the relatively new genre of steampunk, a sub-genre of science fiction which I will not attempt. My mind does not twist in that direction. However, steampunk is alive and growing and I’ve included a link to further your understanding of the genre.

Interestingly, Jules Verne and H.G. Wells are referred to in this article as authors writing in the imagery of steampunk.

This piece is just my thinking of the world of science fiction, keeping the past alive, and what direction reality is taking.

 

What is Steampunk?

 

March 10, 2015 at 7:33 pm 1 comment

STRUGGLING TO GET IT WRITE: SCIENCE FICTION PREDICTING REALITY

In the future, I plan to submit a post looking at great science fiction authors and their stories which have elements of fiction that become fact.  Just consider Jules Verne and the Nautilus as an example.

I’ve just run across a posting in Science Daily which I will share with you.  But first, I offer you a story first published in Aphelion, The Superior Species.  Read them both and tell me what you think.

THE SUPERIOR SPECIES

30,000 YEARS IN THE PAST

The two men sat atop a snow-covered mountain looking down on a land that would one day become Switzerland.  Their prominent brows and wide noses marked them as a distinct species, one of two inhabiting this land.  The other was an aggressive tribe that they watched.   That they feared.  With their high nasal voices, the two communicated their feelings to each other, the love for the land that lay before them.

They did not see the band of ten savages obscured by the falling snow approach the hill on which they sat.  They appreciated the beauty that surrounded them.  The area was covered in a thick blanket of snow and they were sure that there would be more to come.  Recently, the period of snow and ice had been extreme.  The lithe figures approached, preparing to attack.  With spears held high, the savages crept up on the pair.  As one of the muscular men talked to his companion, a spear pierced his breast.  His companion rose and was himself impaled by a spear.  The savages celebrated their kill in a most gruesome fashion.

THE DISCOVERY

John and Paul had hiked the Alps of Switzerland for most of their lives.  Friends in England since their youth, they both chose to seek employment in Switzerland to be near the mountains they loved.  Both enjoyed the solitude, hiking the mountains high above the point where novice hikers would stop.  As they hiked that June day, they would have an experience they would never forget, an experience that would alter mankind’s perception of his place on this planet.

While on the lower levels of the Alps, they drank in the fragrance of the sentinel pine.  And as the winter ice retreated, they had to climb higher and higher to enjoy the solitude they cherished.  This June day, they hiked into an ice-shrouded valley that was new to them.  Paul was the first to notice a dark mass protruding from the ice half way up the valley wall.  It stood out black against the pristine ice.

“Do you see that, John?”  Paul pointed.  “I’m going to check it out.”

As Paul approached, a slight wind ruffled Paul’s quarry.

“John, come up here!  It’s hair.”

The two men approached.  They could make out a shape in the ice beneath the hair.  They peered into the ice and both came to the same conclusion.  Buried in the ice was the body of a man.

* * *

The two police officers responding to the Englishmen’s call were used to this sort of thing.  Hikers were often lost in the Alps.  When egos outdistanced skill and training, along with a lack of preparation, the results were often disastrous.  And when the weather became unforgiving, they weren’t found until the first thaw.  The two officers worked to reveal more of the body by chipping away some of the ice.  The face was revealed along with other details.  The more ice they cleared from the body, the more both men knew they were not uncovering an ordinary hiker.

“We had better place guards and call the university in Zurich.”

* * *

Dr. Hans Bueler looked down on the body.  He could not hide his excitement.  As he examined the corpse he talked to the policemen protecting the site.

As his investigation proceeded, he said, “Gentlemen, I do not know if you appreciate the magnitude of this find.  This is, by far, the greatest discovery in the study of our ancient ancestors to date.  You will notice the prominent brow, wide nose and lack of chin.  Notice also the muscular shoulders.  I will require further study, but I am positive this is the body of a Neanderthal.

“I am sure you also have noticed the cause of death.  I refer to the spear point protruding from this individual’s chest.  Gentlemen, this is a crime scene, a murder.  However, you will never apprehend the murderer, for this crime took place thousands and thousands of years ago.

NEW HAVEN, CONNETICUT

It was a wild night with a howling and frigid wind buffeting the windows of the senior faculty house on the Yale campus.  Sheets of rain kept all the details of the world beyond the windows indefinite.

Four men, leaders in their fields, sat before a roaring fire, the flames reflecting off the dark wooden panels of the study walls.  Each man held a brandy stiffer and appreciated the ambiance of the room and the moment.  The men were in one of the faculty houses provided to senior members of Yale.  The residence was that of Dr. Carl Gold, an evolutionary psychologist.  Gold was in his mid sixties, and with his trim build and gray mane of hair, would not be out of place in the boardroom of a major company or arguing on the floor of the senate. He was a leader in his field with a worldwide reputation.

Gold had invited three men he knew by reputation as giants in their own fields.  He also knew them all personally, in varying degrees, and was confident that what was discussed this stormy night would not go beyond the walls of his study.

Across from Gold sat Fred Fielding.  Tall and gaunt, Fielding had a permanent tan from his many field trips as physical anthropologist.  Next to Fielding was John Sanders, a world-renowned human geneticist.  Sanders published his work in all the major journals, but most of his work was now tied up in the debate over the use of human stem cells.  Sanders, with his short thick build, was the opposite of Fielding.  With his thick black hair and swarthy complexion, he was often mistaken for a maintenance man.  The broken nose he earned during his collegiate boxing career added to the image.

The last of the three invited guests was Dr. Bill Mark, a fertility specialist and adjunct professor in Yale’s medical school.  Tall, slim and blond, with his athletic build, he appeared to be in his mid forties although he was well on the way to sixty.  As each man introduced himself and discussed their specialties, Mark wondered if he had been summoned to this meeting by mistake.  His discipline did not fit in with the others present.  He was not a researcher.  He was a physician.

Gold surveyed his colleagues and friends.  “Gentlemen, the storm that rages beyond these walls will be dwarfed by the storm that may rage within these walls tonight.  I’m sure you are all aware of the magnificent discovery made in the Swiss Alps.  The body of a perfectly preserved Neanderthal, using carbon dating, is estimated to be thirty thousand years old.  I have spent my life in the study of these creatures.  From the time the first Neanderthal skull was found in 1848, this subset of man has remained a mystery.  We are still trying to fathom the extent of their intelligence and how they fit into the human tree of development.

“There are many facts about these distant relatives of modern man that lead to fascinating conjecture.  To begin with, their brains were ten percent larger than that of modern man, yet they are thought to be simple brutes.  We now know that Neanderthals manufactured tools and produced art.  The mask found on the banks of the Loire in France was an unexpected find.  The fact that they produced art indicates they had an appreciation of life beyond their own existence.  They apparently did lack one skill.  They were not as adept at fashioning weapons as their fellow bipeds.

“Another intriguing discovery found in the Kebara Cave in Israel was a Neanderthal bone of extreme importance.  The bone I refer to was a Neanderthal hyoid bone.  This find dispels the theory that Neanderthals could do nothing but grunt.  The presence of a hyoid bone indicates they were capable of speech.  Taking into consideration other aspects of their skulls, it is thought that Neanderthals had a high, nasal voice.

“There are many questions to be answered, and now we have the means at our disposal to journey from conjecture to fact.  I have obtained a sample of the newly discovered Neanderthal.  The reason I have called you all together this evening is to formulate a plan, that my utilizing modern genetics and in vitro fertilization, will produce a Neanderthal.  We shall be able to answer all the questions that have plagued modern man about the Neanderthal enigma.”

Fred Fielding was the first to speak.  “As a physical anthropologist, I look forward to examining the body of the recently discovered Neanderthal.  But your point is clear.  To see how the physical characteristics, whose meaning we assume to deduce, come into play in a living specimen would mean phenomenal advances in our knowledge of man’s distant relative.”

John Sanders, the geneticist, now spoke up.  “With a specimen from this newly discovered Neanderthal, modern genetics could solve, once and for all, the debate of where Neanderthals reside in man’s family tree.  However, what you propose is to produce a living individual.  To do that would require cloning, a method too dangerous to try on a human – to say nothing about it being illegal.”

Gold said, “My dear Dr. Sanders, you would not be cloning a member of the Homo sapiens species.  You would be cloning an example of Homo neanderhtalensis.”

A smile crept across Sanders’ face.  This argument would be viable, until the law caught up with the science.  “In that case, I am willing to isolate the DNA.  What we would need next is a human egg and female willing to carry the Neanderthal to term.”

All eyes were now on Dr. Mark, the fertilization specialist.  He said, “I now see where I fit in.  I see how we all fit into this project.  I will not mince words.  I feel uncomfortable about this proposition.  The mechanisms of the plan would be simple.  I have a supply of donor eggs.  We can remove the egg’s DNA and using cloning methods described in the literature, insert Neanderthal DNA and initiate mitosis.  I also have a group of women we use in my practice who are willing to carry babies as surrogate mothers, but refuse to see the baby after birth.  They want no chance to form an attachment to the child.

“I think the experiment Dr. Gold proposes can be accomplished.  My question is should it be done?  By using the scientific name of the Neanderthal as a loophole, we feel we are free to create an individual who may possess human emotions, who may possess a soul.  This is much different than cloning a sheep or a cat, no matter how much we choose to belittle the difference.  I am not sure I can proceed with this endeavor.”

Gold said, “I picked you, Bill, because I knew you would not go easily with this plan.  What we are planning to do is of profound importance, and also of profound scientific and moral complexity.  Yet, for science to advance, sometimes risks must be taken.  I appreciate your arguments.  I know there are risks, but we have the capacity to venture into the unknown and bring light to a land of mystery.  Through our expertise we can gain knowledge of the beginning of our humanity.”

The debate went on until dawn lit the study windows.  Fielding and Sanders warmed to their initial confidence.  Mark persisted in his initial skepticism.  But in the end, as a new day on Earth began, a new chapter in mankind’s knowledge was agreed upon.

THE CLONING

John Sanders received the frozen tissue samples from Gold.  As he gazed at the sample packed in dry ice, he could not believe he was peering into a box containing a tissue sample of a ‘man’ dead thirty thousand years.  Sanders’ ego did not get the better of him.  He knew he had been out of the lab for too long to attempt the important work that lay ahead.  He employed a promising PhD candidate, Michael Rose, to do the actual work.  He would tell Rose as little as possible about the nature of the experiment.  The meeting at Gold’s study had left him with the feeling that he was involved in a conspiracy rather than an experiment, the fewer people that knew about the true purpose of the experiment, the better.

Sanders’ first meeting with Rose went well.  “Michael, I would like you to help me in a special project.”

“Certainly Dr. Sanders.  I’m a little desperate for a new project now that the study I’m working on is going nowhere.”

Sanders said, “It’s a cloning experiment.”

“Fantastic,” said Rose.  “What will we be cloning?”

Sanders hesitated, and then answered, “A non-human primate.”

“Has that ever been done before Dr. Sanders?”

“Not to my knowledge.  We would be making history.”

Rose could not believe his luck.  He was going from a dead-end research project to an historic experiment.

“When do we begin?”

“Immediately,” Sanders said.  “I already have a tissue sample from which you can extract the DNA for the cloning.  I also have a list of references I want you to read and extract from them the method used to fertilize the egg and develop it into an embryo.”

* * *

Two weeks later Rose had the DNA extracted and the materials he would need for the union of the egg and extracted DNA to begin their journey to a living entity.

Sanders called Mark, “Bill, we’re ready to implant the DNA into the eggs.”

“I’ll ship them out by express mail,” said Mark.  “Good luck!”

The eggs arrived in a container of liquid nitrogen.  The paperwork indicated that there were ten eggs contained in the container.  When all was ready, with Sanders at his side, Rose began the cloning experiment.

The eggs were rapidly thawed.  Once thawed, Rose removed their DNA and inserted the ‘primate DNA’ he had prepared.  Each egg was given its own petri dish of life sustaining fluids and put into an incubator.

Both Sanders and Rose periodically checked on the eggs.  Initially, all ten began to divide.  But soon four of the small balls of cells died.  The remaining six progressed to a point where they could be slowly cooled, then frozen and stored in liquid nitrogen until they could be implanted into a uterus.

Rose was excited as he entered Sanders’ office.  “Dr. Sanders, the embryos are frozen.  I’m looking forward to seeing the results of the experiment.”

Sanders said, “I’ll let you know how things progress.”

“Do we have the monkeys that will carry the embryos to term here?”

“No Michael, the implantation will be done at another institution.”

After Rose left, Sanders sat at his desk and thought; You’ll be told the embryos all died after implantation.  For you, this experiment is over.

Strangely, Sanders found himself feeling envy for Rose.  His dreams had recently been haunted by what this adventure might produce.

THE BIRTH

Bill March had three women he had used as surrogate mothers in the past who refused to see the babies for whom they had made life possible.  They were ready to perform the function again.  All were young, in their mid to late twenties and all were single.  They were all paid for their service and all three shared similar feelings about their pregnancy.  They wanted to provide a family to couples who needed help.

The three women were each implanted with two of the Neanderthal embryos.  They were all told that the fetuses belonged to a very wealthy couple, and that they would be paid well for their services and their confidentiality.  When it came time to deliver the babies, the births would take place at the couple’s country estate.  All preparations had been taken to equip a room at the estate with the criteria of a delivery room, all the latest equipment necessary to handle whatever emergency might occur.

Two of the women miscarried.

These miscarriages revived the doubts March originally felt about the project.

Pat Meyers carried the last two fetal Neanderthals to term.  She knew she was pregnant with twins, but she grew no larger than she had when she carried a single child.  This disturbed her.  She also knew she carried two boys.  Even with her doubts, it made her happy to know she was bringing joy and creating a family.  She was making it all possible.

Two weeks before her due date, she was moved to a country estate in northern Connecticut.  The house belonged to Gold and had been in his family for many years.  Mark told the two nurses who would assist in the delivery, “The babies may seem somewhat peculiar.  You will be paid to overlook anything out of the ordinary.  After all, we must be sensitive to the parent’s feelings.”

Pat went into labor and had an extremely easy delivery.  Although she had carried the babies to term, both were less than four pounds at birth.

Each nurse cared for one of the infants.  The boys were covered with a fine down of black hair.  One of the nurses whispered to the other, “Look at his head.  It’s so misshapen after such an easy delivery.”

Once the babies were settled in the nursery, the nurses left the estate.  As they walked to their cars one said to the other, “Those infants were indeed peculiar with their misshapen skulls and covered with hair like an ape.  But the one thing I will never forget about them was their eyes.  They weren’t the eyes of any baby I’ve ever seen.  They had a weird look to them, like intelligence.  I felt they were looking right through me.

The other nurse responded, “Did you also get the feeling that they feared our touch.  I’ve never seen that in a newborn before.”

REALIZATION

From the time of their births, the babies struck Gold, Fielding, Sanders and Mark as odd.  The infants appeared tense, as if they had an inherent fear of Homo sapiens.  The only time they relaxed was when they could see one another.

“Strange,” Gold noted, “it’s as if they know they are alien to us.”

The babies grew into muscular toddlers and were walking at six months.  Gold and Fielding closely followed their development.  Sanders and Mark occasionally inquired as to the progress of the children, but other projects quickly took them out of the picture.  Their major concern was when Gold would go public with the astounding accomplishment.  They were eager for the recognition their work would bring.   Gold would answer their inquires by saying, “Soon, very soon.”

Fielding spent hours observing the Neanderthal infants, monitoring how their bodies developed as they matured.  They were far more agile than he expected nothing like the lumbering brutes commonly associated with Neanderthals.  As expected, their frames indicated that they would develop into adults of short stature compared to modern man.  Their physique began to fill out, becoming more muscular than that of human babies.  Gold, however, would uncover the true mysteries of the Neanderthals when he studied their psychological development.

The infants began talking at eighteen months, and not with the fumbling birth of knowledge of speech associated with human children.  Gold discovered them talking one day as he entered the room where they slept.  He was stunned, for he never heard them parrot sounds as children do to develop speech.  The Neanderthals did possess the high nasal voices predicted by the bone structure of their skulls.  Gold found the sound of their voices annoying.

Studying their psychological development, Gold thought, these infants are progressing far more rapidly than human toddlers of comparable age.  He began recording his conversations with the Neanderthals.  During one of his sessions with them they both seemed withdrawn.  He asked, “What do you boys think about?”

The Neanderthal born first was called Adam, the other John.  Adam answered, “Why, he asked, ” are we so different from you and the others we meet?”

* * *

It had been four years since the Neanderthals were cloned and Gold became more and more ill at ease about what the experiment had created.  Fielding and Sanders wanted the results of the experiment to be published.  Mark preferred to be left out of the picture.

One night Fielding and Sanders visited Gold in his study, site of the initial plans for the project.  Fielding asked Gold, “Carl, don’t you think it’s time to publish our Neanderthal results?”

Sanders added, “The boys have shown none of the signs of premature aging that many of the animals clone in the past have exhibited.”

Gold said, “The boys are coming along fine.  In fact, their intelligence level, given their age, is remarkable.  But I still feel we should wait to publish.  There is something strange about the boys.  I would prefer to let them develop further before we go public.”

In the end, Fielding and Sanders persevered.  A manuscript was prepared and sent to Science.

HISTORY IS REPEATED

When news of the existence of the two Neanderthal children became known to the scientific community, Gold was overwhelmed with requests to study them.  The boys were now ten, and possessed all the characteristics of the typical Neanderthal physique.  They were short and extremely muscular with prominent brows and wide nose associated with their kind.  It was their mental abilities that Gold found both interesting and disturbing.

Gold taught the boys to read.  Now they devoured books.  They were sponges for knowledge.  Fielding still visited the boys.  On one such visit he told Gold, “You know Carl, physically, the Neanderthals are developing precisely as expected.  It is their mental faculties that I find intriguing.”

“I share your amazement,” said Gold.  “They have a thirst for knowledge that far surpasses what their human contemporaries demonstrate.  It’s almost as if they are making up for thousands of years of extinction.”

* * *                           A wild storm raged as Gold drove to the Neanderthal residence.  They were fifteen now and had become something beyond human.

Gold entered the living room to find Adam and John reading.  They were always reading.  Gold stood drenched before them.  He reached into his pocket and produced a revolver.

Adam said, “I fully expected this to happen some day.  I expected history to repeat itself.  You fear us.  I have read all that has been written about Neanderthals.  I know the conjectures your fellow scientists have about our intelligence.  I knew, early on, that you realized how wrong those theories were.

“At the same time, we both realized that you would not accept us as merely different.  Because of your human egos, we appear threatening, superior.  John and I are ready to accept the only outcome this experiment could produce.”

Gold shot twice with the realization that he was the savage were and the Neanderthals were the superior species.

THE END

Now here’s the article from Science Daily.

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/01/150114101528.htm

Here are some links where you may purchase my work.

Melange Books

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html

Barnes & Noble.com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/walt-trizna?store=book&keyword=walt+trizna

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna

January 15, 2015 at 6:04 pm Leave a comment

LOVE MACHINE/STEPPING STONE by WALTER MOSLEY

As usual, I’m way behind the curve in becoming familiar with the important authors of the genres in which I’m most interested and participating in, namely science fiction and horror. The problem is, I’m interested in so many different types of works; mystery, historical fiction, literary works. Also nonfiction; biographies, military history to name a few. My stacks of to-be-read books sometimes gets quite ridiculous, as the list of my interests goes on and on.

Not long ago, I picked up my first work written by Walter Mosley and now I’m hooked on the guys writing having read a few Easy Rawlins and Leonid McGill mysteries, two compelling characters. Once you get into his mysteries it’s hard to stop, but then again, why should you?

Some time ago, while on a bookstore expedition, I notice a book my Mosley, Love Machine/Step Stone. Not even reading the blurb about the short novels, I added it to my stacks. There it sat for quite a few months until a few days ago when I decided to give it a try.

Published in 2013 by Tor, I was amazed to find that they were two short science fiction novels. I know I’m probably the last to discover that Mosley wrote science fiction, but just in case there is one more of you out there lacking in this knowledge, I thought I’d write this article. Both works are complex and well written contributions to the genre.

Love Machine is nothing you would expect from its title. Rather, it centers on a device used to merge individual psyches, and that’s just the start. I finished this book in one night and defy you to put it down once you begin turning pages.

Stepping Stone takes you on a fantastic ride, starting slow with a ‘special needs’ man. The pace quickens as you find both of these observations, ‘special needs’ and man, stand on shaky ground bringing you to a conclusion you never see coming.

If you enjoy reading science fiction with a twist, or are a Walter Mosley fan, definitely give these short works a try.

Here are some links where you may purchase my work.

Melange Books

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html

 

 

Barnes & Noble.com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/walt-trizna?store=book&keyword=walt+trizna

 

 

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna

December 10, 2014 at 12:47 am Leave a comment

THE STRAIN by GUILLERMO DEL TORO AND CHUCK HOGAN

In the past I wrote about the FX series, The Strain, and indicated that I intended to read the novel. Well, I kept that promise and am now well into, The Fall, the second of the three book series.

The TV series closely follows the novel, with a few alterations and new characters that have little or no impact on the storyline. What I enjoyed about FX series, which will continue in the future, I found reinforced in my reading of the book, i.e. the science. We’ve all grown up with Bram Stoker’s classic novel, Dracula, and watched film presentations beginning with Nosferatu and on to movies starring Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee. Vampire movies still popup, usually during the summer movies season focusing more on the scantily clad, or more commonly unclad, maidens, and less on the traditional legend. What makes The Strain unique is, for the first time, there is a detailed scientific explanation for the vampire condition. Low and behold, and I don’t think I’m giving too much away, the condition is the result of a virus, a virus that has been around for hundreds or more years. Other vampire characteristics are also explained scientifically; I love it. There are also hints as to the origin of the malady and I’m looking forward to that revelation.

As a former scientist, I enjoy playing with scientific fact in my writing to make the storyline plausible and to pack a little punch. For instance, my as yet unpublished novel, The Beast Awaits, has a terrifying beast produced from mishandling stem cells, and I rely heavily on my tissue culture experience to make the story believable.

In this day and age of daily scientific breakthroughs, I feel the reading public wants and demands substance behind the terror.

Here are some links where you may purchase my work.

Melange Books

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html

Barnes & Noble. Com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/walt-trizna?store=book&keyword=walt+trizna

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna

November 28, 2014 at 8:53 pm Leave a comment

FICTION USING FACT

When writing science fiction, I enjoy including knowledge gained during my former career in science in my stories to give them an air of realism and draw the reader into a world where the borders between fact and fiction blur.

I have had the pleasure, of late, to view that approach adopted, to some extent, by some recent TV shows. I also appreciate the new approach these outlets are using in presenting their programs. More on that appreciation will follow in another post.

One program I have been following, and I hope you fans of horror have also, is The Strain, based on the novel of the same name written by Guillermo del Toro seen on Sunday nights on FX. Vampires are the beasts in question and for the first time, to my knowledge, an explanation is given for the condition and its spread. Also detailed is a reason for the monster’s primary weakness – sunlight.

Ever since Bram Stoker penned his classic novel, Dracula in 1897, horror fans have been fascinated by this lustful amoral sucker of blood. Beginning with the classic film, Nosferatu, seen in 1922 followed by vampire movies starring Bela Lugosi and on to Christopher Lee we have witnessed countless young maidens come under the spell of these heartless fiends through their bite. But how is this evil trait passed from one victim to the next? The Strain has answered that question.

A virus is the culprit.

More and more we are becoming aware of the horror viruses can weak. From polio to the appearance in the western world of AIDS in the early 1980s to the recent Ebola outbreak in Africa, viruses have left their mark on mankind. I find it fascinating that a virus is now being used in the formation of vampires. Granted, the vampires in The Strain do not follow the classic manner in neck bites seen in days of old. These current vampires have a much more dramatic method. Also cleverly explained is their weakness to the sun, nicely tied into their propagation by a virus.

Those who have worked with tissue culture I’m sure have do so in a biological safety hood. When the hoods are not in use a UV lamp is illuminated to destroy any bacteria or viruses lurking within. In The Strain scientist fighting the disease are caught in a convenience store which, in addition to selling the usual fare of magazines, soda and beef jerky, has a well-stocked supply of UV lamps. And vampires are susceptible to UV rays such as those found in sunlight.

I love it!

The scientist use the UV lamps the combat the vampires when leaving the building. They also mention that the lamps are useless while they are inside for the rays do not penetrate glass, which is true.

I find this show entertaining not only because of the horror but also for the use of correct science. I also now know the answer to another burning question I have pondered: Why are nubile bikini-clad women never attacked by vampires in the dead of night while using tanning beds? It’s the UV rays.

Another program I’ve been following is Falling Skies broadcast also on Sunday nights by TNT. Aliens have attacked earth and are powering their ships using electricity beamed from the moon. One of the characters says, “Just like Tesla predicted.” He’s right.

Back when the use of electricity was in its infancy, a debate began between Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla as to what form of electricity should be provided to customers. Edison was for direct current (DC) and Tesla for alternating current (AC). Fortunately Tesla won, AC being a safer product. Tesla also wanted to transmit electricity without the use of wires, solely through the atmosphere just as the aliens are doing in Falling Skies.

Finding science fact in science fiction and horror makes the genre all that more interesting.

September 13, 2014 at 9:40 pm 1 comment

REFDESK.COM, AN AWESOME WEBSITE FOR WRITERS AND NEWS JUNKIES

,’Refdesk,com is a website I check on a daily basis.  It overflows with connection to other sites of varying interests and links to newspapers to name of few of the rewards it offers.

Here’s the link.

http://www.refdesk.com/

As a science fiction writer and also a reading addict, I thought I’d share three sites I always check.

The first is ‘Today In Literature’ which serves to provide a wealth of literary background.

http://www.todayinliterature.com/

The same can be said for ‘Writer’s Almanac’ hosted by Garrison Keillor.

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

Finally, there’s ‘Science Daily’ chock-full of articles on up-to-the-minute scientific findings.  I use this site as a source of ideas for stories. If the lead story in Top Science News generate a story idea for someone I’ll eat all my Arthur C. Clarke novels.

http://www.sciencedaily.com/

August 10, 2014 at 7:39 pm 2 comments

NEED A BEACH READ?

Need that book for the beach you won’t be able to put down?

Give New Moon Rising a try!

Here’s a taste.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pasadena

A phone ringing in the early morning hours is seldom a harbinger of good news. When Wade’s phone rang at two thirty-five in the morning, he came out of a peaceful sleep and with dread, reached for the receiver.

“Wade, this is Jeff at the lab.” The excitement in the young graduate student’s voice spoke of disaster before he revealed the reason for his early morning call. “It may have started. We have seismic activity along the whole Hawaiian chain. We have earthquake activity measuring 8.6 on the Richter scale. It’s the strangest earthquake, associated with the islands, anyone here has seen. The earthquake occurred at 4:20PM Hawaiian time. We cannot pinpoint the origin. It’s a series of earthquakes occurring simultaneously beneath the whole island chain. There have already been reports of tsunamis from Midway Island, the Marshall Islands, and the Samoan Islands. New Zealand, Australia, Central America, and China are all bracing for a giant wave. No one knows if the tsunami will be as bad as 2004.”

Jeff responded, “This is amazing! Earthquakes like this have never been described before. No one will know what to expect.”

“Jeff, try to calm down. Juliet and I will be at the lab as soon as we can.

Have the proper authorities been notified?”

“Are you kidding? Every lab in the world recorded this event. Damage reports are already coming in from Hawaii and the damage is widespread.”

“We are also getting signs of volcanic activity around the dormant volcano you instrumented on the island of Hawaii. There have been reports of ash spewing from several volcanoes on some of the islands that haven’t had activity for hundreds, or in some cases, thousands of years.

Wade’s thoughts instantly went to Foster on Oahu. “Is there any report of activity of Oahu?”

“Koolau volcano on Oahu is reported to be putting out ash and smoke.” Wade finished by saying, “We’re on our way, Jeff.”

Wade tried to control his own emotions as he turned toward Juliet. She had propped up her pillow and was listening to the conversation. Just from hearing Wade’s end, she knew that the news was not good.

With fear in his voice, he said, “It looks like it’s begun.” He went on to tell her all that he knew from Jeff as they hurriedly dressed and set out for the lab.

As they approached the Geology Building, every window was illuminated. Wade noticed that the parking lot was already half full as they pulled into his

organized and assigned specific tasks.

A group was told to keep track of earthquake damage and aftershocks. Another was told to track tsunamis, and a third group was told to monitor the Hawaiian Islands for volcanic activity. Constant contact was established with labs in Australia, New Zealand and their colleagues in Japan. There was an attempt made to contact the lab in Hilo at the University of Hawaii—but the lines were out.

With all the phones and computers manned, order began to emerge from the chaos. Wade had a chance to inspect the seismic tracings from the earthquake beneath the Hawaiian Islands. They represented not a single quake, but a long series of overlapping quakes. The location was difficult to determine. The earthquakes occurred at a series of points beneath the Pacific Ocean surrounding the Hawaiian Islands. The character of these quakes fit into the scenario along with the other events that occurred, supporting Professor Humphries’ theory. They were unprecedented in modern time.

Wade stood in the lab, holding the tracings, and wondered about his brother and all the rest of the population of Hawaii, people in love with their paradise. So in love were the residents, that it may have cost countless lives to enjoy heaven on Earth just a little longer.

* * * *

Oahu

Foster continued to work at the surf shop and Heather at the bed and breakfast although each had little to do. Heather took her baby to work with her and found time to feed and care for him while she accomplished her tasks. The working conditions were ideal for caring for the baby. In fact, Lulu gave him so much attention, that if it weren’t for the fact Heather was breast-feeding; he would need no care at all.

Although life went on, there was a pall hanging over the islands knowing that its days might be numbered. Foster had become close friends with most of the surfers who congregated on the beach and shopped at the store. A few that were originally from the mainland returned home but all the native surfers chose to stay. For the most part, they were young men who loved the surf and sun and little else. When asked about their future, almost to a man, they talked about quality of life—not quantity.

Foster was working behind the counter one day while Joe was grabbing some lunch when his friend Rich Loana entered the shop.

“What can I do for you, Rich?”

“Just wanted to see if you’d be interested in doing some surfing later this afternoon. The waves are supposed to be great today.”

“I should be able to get away around four. I’ll meet you on the beach in back of the shop.”

“Sounds like a plan, Foster. I’ll see you then.”

After Rich left, Foster thought about a conversation he had with Rich months earlier, when the news of what might happen to Hawaii was released.

He had had similar conversations with a lot of the surfers he had gotten to know. One conversation with Rich stuck in his mind.

He’d asked Rich, “What will you do now, Rich?” “What do you mean—I’m going to surf.”

“No, you know what I’m talking about. When are you leaving?” “I’m not.”

“You can’t stay here, it’s not safe.”

“Listen Foster, I was born on this island, it’s my home, the only place I’ve ever lived. And surfing is the only thing I know how to do. I don’t have an education. I don’t have a skill. If I moved to the mainland, what would I do? I’d be a bum the rest of my life. I’m a bum here, but at least I have a chance to do what I love. If this theory is wrong – no harm done. If its right, I’ll be doing what I love doing right to the end.”

Foster found that most of the native-born Hawaiian surfers he talked to had a similar attitude. They were determined to embrace their ‘hang loose’ attitude of life right to the end.

* * * *

Traffic through the shop was light, had been for months. Three-thirty arrived and Foster told Joe he was thinking of riding some waves until Heather came home. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle this crowd all alone,” Joe said as he looked around the empty store. “Go ahead; get your butt on the beach.”

Foster got a couple good rides before Rich showed up. They rode together for a while until Rich caught a wave that Foster missed. Foster paddled back out to deeper water turned toward the beach and was preparing to get up on his board

It was 4:20.

He could see Rich on the beach taking a breather, when his friend suddenly fell to the sand. Foster thought to himself, “What the hell is he doing now?” Then he noticed branches falling from the palm trees. In quick succession, the roof of the shop caved in leaving a pile of rubble where the shop and apartment had been. He quickly paddled to shore, and as soon as his feet made contact with the sand, he fell to his knees in the shallow water. He looked up and down the beach and the few people still standing were holding onto a tree or other stabilizing object with looks of shock and disbelief on their faces.

The trembling lasted minutes, but it seemed like hours. Time slowed as the Earth shook. The violent shaking subsided, settling down to series of lesser and lesser ripples of movement. Foster ran around front and found Joe sitting on the grass clutching a blood-soaked towel to his head.

“Is this what we’ve been waiting for?” asked Joe. Foster pointed to the south. “What’s that Joe, a fire?” “If it is, it’s one hell of a fire.”

Then they noticed pillars of smoke dotting the horizon.

“I think some of our dead volcanoes have come to life. Come on, we need to get to the B&B. Although the trembling had ceased, the trembling of both

men had not. A mixture of adrenaline, fear, and awe fed emotions waiting for months to be released. Both men knew in their hearts THIS WAS IT.

They hopped into Joe’s jeep and began the short drive to the bed and breakfast. A drive that should have taken minutes, took nearly an hour. The narrow road was littered with tree branches and debris from collapsed buildings and clogged with people walking, stumbling in a state of shock, and not knowing where to go or what to do. Screams could be heard from some of the partially collapsed structures, but for now, aid was nonexistent.

Joe could see the column of smoke issuing to the sky before his business came into view. As they turned the last bend in the road, there stood the B&B, or at least what was left of it, engulfed in flames. The men felt relief when they saw Lulu and Heather standing in the parking lot holding the baby. Their clothes were torn and they were both covered in soot, but they were safe.

They parked the jeep a safe distance from the fire and approached the women. Lulu was in hysterics, sobbing and could not be consoled.

“Thank God you’re all safe. It’s only a building,” Joe said as he embraced his frantic wife.

All Lulu could say over and over was, “Oh no, no, no.”

Foster noticed Heather was also crying. He hugged her and his son. Through choked-back tears, she explained what had happened. “Lulu and I were in the kitchen. Thank God we had the baby with us. We were preparing tomorrow’s breakfast when everything began to shake. Things fell off the shelves and the ceiling started coming down. We made it out just in time before the whole place came crashing down and began to burn.”

Lulu stood listening, clutching herself and moaning.

“A few hours ago we had the first guests we’ve had in a long time check in, a young couple from California, along with their five year old son. They went upstairs to get some rest before they began their tour of the island. They never came out.”

They all watched the burning structure as it caved in further. As the flames singed the nearby palms, they knew it was also a funeral pyre. Both women sobbed as the men stood helpless. Oahu and the rest of the Hawaiian Islands were also helpless, caught in the grasp of a power that was no longer a theory.

Here’s where you can buy it.

Thanks.

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/triznanewmoonrising.html

July 4, 2014 at 8:36 pm Leave a comment

A NEW GENRE

While reading the May, 19 issue of Time over breakfast this morning, I came across an article which proved quite exciting for me.  The article discussed  movies released or soon to be  such as Godzilla, Into the Storm and Snowpiercer.

In discussing these movies, a new genre was mentioned, at least new to me, cli-fi.  This is a story of science fiction or fantasy dealing with a climate or environmental factor.

My novel, The Beast Awaits, which I sure you are all getting sick of hearing about, is about stem cell research gone bad leading to global warming.  Is that a fit or what?

I plan to start working on a new query letter and will share it with you soon to see what you think.

 

May 19, 2014 at 6:56 pm 2 comments

THE BEAST AWAITS, AN UPDATE, SORT OF

Still sucking up library WiFi.

 

In reference to the last piece, The Beast Awaits, a novel I often refer to is written and already made the rounds to agents with a 100% rate of rejection, so far.

I had one publisher show interest in publishing the novel but, upon doing my homework, found they did not have a good reputation, so I declined.

You have to watch your ass, no one else will.

 

May 5, 2014 at 6:05 pm Leave a comment

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