Hey there. Looks like the creative muse must have hit John today and I'm hoping he's busy putting words to paper, or at least hard drive. So I'm going to throw the blog open to any and all comers. You know the rules. No politics, religion or anything else likely to start a fight -- unless it's critical to writing.
Let us know what's on your mind. Is there anything you want us to discuss? Better yet, if you've got an opening couple of paragraphs -- no more than 3 -- you want input on, post in the comments.
The floor is now yours.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
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6 comments:
How about Dark Matter and Dark Energy? How about gleefully, and sans any proof whatsoever, combining it with the membrane theory?
I mean, one theory says we can't detect 92.5% of the universe except indirectly through observation of gravity effects. The other says there are a bunch of worlds parallel to ours.
Obviously there are a dozen or so membranes close enough that we experience their gravity. All we need to do is figure out how to cross over. Yoga, LHC or Dec 21 2012?
What's your best guess for how to cross over?
How parallel should a parallel world be? Do you think your evil twin will be on the other side, or a dinosaur?
Well, OK, we are probably the Evil Twins. But only one of the close parallel can have that goody-goody Pammy. On the others, I want something different. Strange. Exciting.
matapam,
I can't speculate too much on the alternate planets. I do know that there's at least one of them where nothing every happens because they're too busy trying to determine if it's opposite day.
"It's opposite day!"
"Well, if it's opposite day, doesn't that mean it's the opposite of opposite day and therefore not opposite day?"
"Yes! Which means that it is opposite day!"
"But if it *is* opposite day, then it's the opposite of opposite day/"
That conversation, ad nauseum. :)
Pam, have you been reading over my shoulder? My nearly-completed novel *is* about parallel universes. In varying degrees of parallel-ness. (Or would that be parallelity?) Actually, it's volume one of a series, and the later books delve more deeply into the ideas of the boundaries betwixt and between, and the procss(es) of crossing them.
Chris, that's the one parallel I avoid. You get trapped there. "Where's the Gate?" "Just down the street and turn left." I keep forgetting to go up the street and turn right.;)
Stephen, I love the concept. I play with it in several series. Dinosaurs, magic, vampires and werewolves, nanotech people...
For giggles, here's the intro to my current short story in progress.
A muffled shot rang from the underground shooting range. Nobody was supposed to be in there without my supervision.
“Damnit! Not now!” I said, tension flaring in my shoulders, my hands feeling the needle prick of pain as claws tried to grow their way out of my finger tips. We were in the armory examining Ellen's latest gift from her father -- a brand new Bushmaster ACR assault rifle -- when we heard the shot.
We stalked down the stairs to the underground range. The shots stopped as Ellen opened the door to the range. Rae was reloading magazines in one of the pistol stalls.
“Oh, damnit!”
I winced as she dropped the magazine and pistol rounds in her hands.
“Rae.”
Ellen’s soft almost-growl brought her sisters fumbling attempts to pick up the magazine and rounds at the same time to an abrupt halt. The tears on her face brought us all up short.
“Oh, um hi.” Rae sniffed a bit and then looked despondently at her feet.
Crap.
“Rae, what’s wrong?” Ellen was suddenly at her side and taking her little sister into her arms.
“Nothing. I’m practicing.”
Here's a beginning I haven't had time to get back to:
“I shot an arrow into the air. It fell to earth I knew not where ...”
Unfortunately, unlike my neighbor’s juvenile delinquent son, I did know where. When my TV reception went out halfway through the national anthem before the start of the Georgia-Georgia Tech game, I went outside to find the non-standard addition to my satellite dish.
I bellowed over the fence dividing our yards. “Nicholas!”
Twang-thunk! Several inches of steel-tipped fiberglass sprang into existence, protruding through the fence-picket directly in front of me. “Yeah, whaddaya want?”
I ignored the arrow. “Go get your father. Now.”
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