Archives (page 93 of 464)

November 8, 2018 / 7 Comments

Dan Koboldt: Horrifying But True Tales from Science

Earlier this year I wrote the foreword to a book called Putting the Science in Fiction, edited by Dan Koboldt — the book’s goal is to talk to scientists and help sci-fi authors write more authentically toward their subject matter. Here’s Dan to talk a little about some *cue creepy theremin music* HORRIFYING BUT TRUE TALES FROM SCIENCE.

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A few years ago, I started a blog series aimed at helping SFF writers create more realistic stories. Basically, I’d encountered so many misconceptions about human genetics that I wanted to set the record straight. People are always saying write what you know, and genetics happens to be my area of expertise. So I wrote a few articles to debunk some of the most common misconceptions. To my surprise and delight, some of my blog’s readers found them useful. They wanted more.

The problem was that science fiction encompasses a wide range of sciences and technical areas. I didn’t want to pretend to be an expert at everything (I save that for the grant applications). So I went out and recruited some other experts to contribute to my blog. Dozens of them — aeronautical engineers, neurologists, nurses, astrophysicists, and more – have written posts for my Science in Sci-fi, Fact in Fantasy blog series. Now, we’ve collected 59 of those articles into Putting the Science in Fiction, a book with Writer’s Digest.

One of the best things about hosting this series (and editing the book) is that I get to read all of the articles first. I’ve learned as much as anyone. Then again, there were a few factoids here that I almost wish I could forget. Disgusting things. Frightening things. Horrifying things.

Chuck’s blog seems like the perfect place to share some of them.

You Don’t Want These Parasites

If you want a really freaky classic sci-fi read, I recommend The Puppet Masters by Robert Heinlein (1951), in which aliens turn up on Earth as mind-controlling parasites. Gripping stuff. As it turns out, a number of real-world parasites are able to change their host’s behavior. The most famous of these is probably Ophiocordyceps, the zombie-ant fungus. After it infects a carpenter ant, the fungus releases chemicals that disrupt the ant’s neural control, causing it to wander around until it finds the perfect leaf. Then it dies, and the fungus grows out of its head.

Toxoplasma gondii is another fascinating parasite. This one infects rats and, strangely, erases their natural fear of cats. Obviously, it makes the rats much more likely to be killed and eaten by felines. Then the parasite multiplies and gets released in the cat poop. Yikes.

If you’re a fan of the Aliens movie franchise, you’ll like this one: parasitoid wasps like the giant ichneumon wasp, reproduce by laying their eggs in other insects. When the eggs hatch, the larvae eat the unwilling host from the inside out.

Sources: Zombie Microbiology 101 (chapter 13) by Mike Hays and Insects in Fiction: What Bugs Me (chapter 27) by Robinne Weiss.

This Planet Can (and Will) Kill You

The Earth is a fairly dangerous place. Humans, as a species, have discovered countless different ways to die here. Sometimes the planet itself is responsible. Tornados, hurricanes, flash flooding, mudslides… it’s almost like we’re not welcome on this rock. Earthquakes are a particularly fearsome kind of disaster. Some of the deadliest side effects occur after the quake is over. Tsunamis – caused by earthquakes that occur under the ocean – are a good example. Another one is soil liquefaction, when water-laden soil essentially turns to liquid, swallowing people, cars, and even buildings.

The ocean is also a pretty dead place, though not in the way that many people imagine. About 1,750 people in the United States die each year by drowning in natural bodies of water. Hypothermia is another danger because water wicks away body heat so efficiently. Many shipwreck victims survive the initial wreck, only to freeze to death while waiting for rescue. It’s a simple, if unexciting fact that many more people die from these causes than from shark attacks.

Even so, the ocean has plenty of inspiration for sci-fi and horror writers. There’s a parasitic barnacle that grows entirely inside the body of a crab, and compels the crab to tend its eggs. There’s also an isopod (an ocean version of a pill bug) that feeds on fish tongues and in some cases, replaces the tongue with its own body. Yech.

Sources: Earthquakes: Fact versus Fiction by Amy Mills (chapter 41) and How the Ocean Will Kill You (chapter 43) by Danna Staaf.

It’s Just As Easy to Die in Space

Many of my book’s contributors work in aeronautical fields. I love flying and have taken lessons on small aircraft, so I’m fascinated by this stuff. And also a little terrified. Pilot and aviation writer Sylvia Spruck Wrigley informed me that if you fly into a cloud (losing sight of the ground) and you aren’t an instrument-rated pilot, your life expectancy drops from decades to 178 seconds.

Flying in space is even more difficult, because you have no point of reference. There are no directions in space, so you have to navigate relative to a celestial body, such as a planet. The body itself may be moving. Sounds tough. Adding to the difficulty is the fact that without friction, moving objects in space is at the whim of Newtonian physics. There are no brakes and no flaps. You just move, and continue moving, until enough force is applied to stop your momentum.

Of course, it could be worse. You could get ejected from your spacecraft and die in space. Contrary to popular belief, it wouldn’t make your blood boil or your eyes pop. Instead, the oxygen in your tissues causes your entire body to bloat, kind of like a corpse. You won’t freeze to death (heat transfer works differently in a vacuum) but I’m guessing you’ll be pretty uncomfortable.

Unless you’re a Jedi, there’s not much you can do to save yourself. Holding your breath will cause your lungs to rupture. It’s best to exhale slowly. Most likely, you’ll lose consciousness and then expire from hypoxia or embolism. On the bright side, as this happens, you can rest assured that you’ve died in the best way possible: with great scientific accuracy.

Sources: Misconceptions about Space by Jamie Krakover (chapter 50), Realistic Space Flight (chapter 51) by Sylvia Spruck Wrigley

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Dan Koboldt is the author of the Gateways to Alissia trilogy (Harper Voyager) and the editor of Putting the Science in Fiction (Writers Digest, 2018). As a genetics researcher, he has co-authored more than 70 publications in Nature, Science, The New England Journal of Medicine, and other scientific journals. Dan is also an avid hunter and outdoorsman. Every October, he disappears into the woods to pursue whitetail deer with bow and arrow. He lives with his wife and children in Ohio, where the deer take their revenge by eating the flowers in his backyard.

Dan Koboldt: Website

Putting the Science in Fiction: Print | eBook

November 6, 2018 / 4 Comments

Amy Jo Cousins: Help Provide Child Advocates

And now, a note from author Amy Jo Cousins —

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At one table sits a government lawyer. At the other table sits a child.

The child could be twelve years old. Or seventeen. Or three. She’s been given a “Know Your Rights” presentation by an attorney at the shelter where she is being detained. It may or may not have been in a language she speaks. She made her way to the United States by herself, or she was taken from a parent at the border. And now she is representing herself in immigration court in front of a judge who will determine her future.

This is our immigration system.

In every state and territory in the United States, when decisions are made regarding a child’s custody and care in the child welfare system, there are statutes that require we consider the child’s best interests, that we care about their safety and well-being.

In the immigration system? Judges are not required to consider the best interests of the child before deporting her to the country she fled. When that twelve-year-old girl represents herself in immigration court against a government attorney—whether she’s asking to be sent back to her home country or to stay in the U.S.—the judge is not required to consider where she will be safe, whether or not she will thrive, or even survive.

The immigration system is incredibly complicated and adversarial and humiliating. It turns you into a number on a case file. It doesn’t know that you’re a girl whose favorite possession is the big white bow you wear in your hair, that you’re a boy with scars under his shirt, that you make bracelets for all the kids in the shelter, that people came into your house and “disappeared” your father, that you’re going to be a soccer star when you grow up, that your house was burned down because your neighbors hate your religion, that you miss your mom and want to go home.

At the Young Center for Immigrant Children’s Rights, we provide independent Child Advocates for kids in detention. Our Child Advocates take the most complicated cases. They represent the most vulnerable children. Our job is to hear their stories, to learn about their families and home countries and individual needs, to KNOW them and to ensure everyone involved in the process is prioritizing the child’s best interests at all times. And we follow up after their release from detention to make sure they continue to have access to educational, social, medical, and legal services. A Child Advocate is a lifeline for a child in detention.

When we talk about working with the children in detention, it’s never easy or simple, because they’re not case numbers. They’re children, kids with fears and hopes and needs, and every last one of them deserves to be recognized. A Child Advocate makes sure everyone in the system knows who their child is as a real person. That’s the job. Child Advocates force decisionmakers to see children as children in a system that wants to process them like a number.

Here’s a thing I learned during my first week at the Young Center for Immigrant Children’s Rights: it costs $3,700 to recruit and train a single Child Advocate volunteer. The Young Center takes its responsibilities seriously when it comes to background checks and training for an adult they will introduce to a child and who will advocate for that particular child for months or years.

Right now, our amazing matching challenge sponsors have offered to match up to $50,000 in donations to the Young Center. That means we could raise $100,000 this week. You know what I see when I look at $100,000? 27 new Child Advocate volunteers, each one of whom will end up working with more than one child in time. That’s DOZENS of children getting the ally they need to make sure the system sees them.

A five-year-old girl who wakes up every night in the shelter with nightmares. A six-year-old boy who has stopped speaking. A fourteen-year-old boy who was labor trafficked from China. A sixteen-year-old girl who arrived with her toddler in tow and another baby on the way.

All of these children need Child Advocates. That ally who learns their story, who sits with them in court and helps them not be scared, who makes sure everyone in the system knows what makes that kid unique. Because we should treat children like children, like they matter.

Donate to the #YCChallenge through Wednesday (11/7) and help another kiddo in detention get a Child Advocate. Your donation will be doubled by the matching challenge, plus, you’ll be entered in the lottery to win some amazing prizes, like tickets to a live filming of Full Frontal with Samantha Bee, autographed copies of the Inkheart Trilogy, Star Wars memorabilia, or a personal tour of Intelligentsia’s Chicago Roasting Works.

You can do two amazing things today: vote and support the Young Center. Thank you for bringing your compassion to the fight in both arenas. Thank you.

November 6, 2018 / 17 Comments

Alan Baxter: The H-Word

As someone who essentially secretly writes horror novels without them being called that (ahem), I’m definitely excited to see author Alan Baxter address exactly this phenomenon.

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I often used to have conversations that went something like this:

Some person: So, what do you do?

Me: I’m a writer.

That person: Oh, cool! What do you write?

Me: Horror, mostly, usually mixed up with a lot of crime and thriller stuff.

But they already narrowed their eyes at the first word. Everything I said after “horror” was a blur to them, and I just know they’re visualizing The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Freddy Kruger, slicing knives and gouting blood. They’re checking the room for exits, wishing they hadn’t asked the question. They’re probably thinking, “Why the fuck couldn’t this guy have been a plumber or an accountant or something? Why do I always get the weirdos?”

And you know what? Fair enough. People like what they like and a lot of people hate slasher movies. I really dig them. The good ones are really good and the terrible ones are a shitload of fun, so they all have a valuable place in our culture. But that’s not what I write. And it never ceases to bug me that so many people hear the word “horror” and think immediately of those movies without ever considering that the genre could be far more vast, varied and amazing than they ever knew.

I’m a horror writer, but I don’t write the novel equivalents of slasher flicks. For that reason, the conversation I described above often doesn’t go that way any more because I hide the word “horror” in euphemisms, like Grandma talking about sex when the grandkids are around. More often than not now, that conversation will go something like this:

Some person: So, what do you do?

Me: I’m a writer.

That person: Oh, cool! What do you write?

Me: Supernatural thrillers mostly, often mixed up with a lot of crime and noir stuff.

Me: Dark fiction, thrillers with weird supernatural and crime elements.

Me: Sorta dark weird shit.

I just nudge the genre description a little to the left, saying essentially the same thing without the H-word. And it bothers me that I have to do that. It seems like such a strange dichotomy anyway. You go into any bookstore and you’ll see Stephen King shelved in the general fiction section among all the serious literary books, and he’s the biggest horror writer of all time. I sometimes say that I write “Stephen King type stuff”, just to see what the reaction will be, when my stuff isn’t actually all that much like King’s. But everyone knows who he is, right? He’s one of my favourite writers, certainly a big influence on me, but by far the biggest influence on my work is Clive Barker. My stuff is way more The Great And Secret Show or Weaveworld than it is It or Carrie, and therein lies a perfect example of the breadth of horror fiction. Then take those two authors and compare them to H P Lovecraft, Shirley Jackson, and Edgar Allan Poe. Then add in Caitlin R Kiernan and Kaaron Warren, mix in a dash of Laird Barron and John Langan, a pinch of Gemma Files and Nadia Bulkin, a dose of Victor LaValle and Paul Tremblay, garnish with Cassandra Khaw and Angela Slatter. I could go on and on, but it already sounds delicious. Just that list of names above is a massive cross-section of what horror can be. And incidentally, if there are any names up there you don’t know or haven’t read, unfuck that situation forthwith, as there’s a world of delights awaiting you there. And none of them are anything like slasher flicks. Of course, there are plenty of writers making fantastic novels that are a lot like slasher flicks, and those books are great too.

Those of us into horror know the intricacies and variety to be found in the genre. The sheer scope of supernatural elements, from the most subtle to the brutally face-consuming, is vast. And beyond that, often the most visceral, disturbing, thought-provoking stuff is completely secular. One of the most affecting and distressing horror stories I’ve ever read is the section in Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell, where the old man is committed to a care home against his will. His loss of agency and the indignities visited upon him are utterly the stuff of horror, and there’s nothing supernatural or fantastical anywhere near it. Another truly gut-wrenching horror is Margo Lanagan’s short story, “Singing My Sister Down.” It’s set in a fantastical world, but there’s no magic, no supernatural element, yet it is among the most beautiful horror you’ll ever read. And yes, horror can be gorgeous even as it tears your nerves out at the roots.

Often, when discussing these kinds of stories, people will still use the H-word, but they’ll qualify it. They’ll say a book is powerful quiet horror, or literary horror. These descriptors can be useful, but they’re usually there to soften the blow as people don’t want to alienate readers by calling it what it really is – a horror novel. And I think we need to work on claiming that back.

There certainly seems to be a horror renaissance happening. Get Out winning Oscars, horror novels hitting mainstream bestseller lists, TV shows like Stranger Things and The Haunting of Hill House catching widespread audiences, stuff like that. There’s been the suggestion that the trash fire in a bowl of shit that is the world right now might be at least partly responsible. When things are awful, we look to horror to show us how much worse it could be, and perhaps more importantly, to show us the monsters can be beaten. We can slay the beast, cure the infection, lance the fetid boil of hateful pus (yes, I’m most definitely talking about Donald Trump, but it all applies in the broader spectrum too.) I say we need to use the momentum that’s building right now to reclaim horror as an acceptable and respected genre to write, not one that has people looking for the nearest exit when you proudly announce, “I write horror!” And for my part, I have a new horror novel out on November 6^th called Devouring Dark.

Alan Baxter is a multi-award-winning British-Australian author who writes horror, dark fantasy, and supernatural thrillers, rides a motorcycle and loves his dogs. He also teaches Kung Fu. He lives among dairy paddocks on the beautiful south coast of NSW, Australia, with his wife, son, and two crazy dogs. His latest book is the horror novel, DEVOURING DARK, which explores death, guilt, and redemption, set against a backdrop of crime and corruption in modern-day London. Read extracts from Alan’s novels and novellas, and find free short stories at his website – www.warriorscribe.com – or find him on Twitter @AlanBaxter and Facebook, and feel free to tell him what you think. About anything.

Find DEVOURING DARK in paperback or ebook wherever you usually buy books, or order it at your local bookstore or library. Here are a few direct links:

Amazon B&N iBooks Kobo

November 5, 2018 / 4 Comments

Macro Monday Exhorts You To Participate In Your Democracy

HELLO, FRANDOS.

Hey, guess what? Tomorrow is most likely the most important election you have yet met. A great many things are at stake, and further, we have an excellent chance to provide some vital balance to countermand the current power bloc dominating policy and discourse in this country. Which means it is essential to vote blue, across the board, in every election. (Don’t believe me? Believe nearly-life-long Republican, Sully Sullenberger.) If you have not voted early or absentee, tomorrow is your day (as it is for me here in PA). It also means helping others get to the voting booths, and means asking your friends and family about them getting out to vote — sometimes that gentle nudge makes it likelier they’ll go, either as an act of social camaraderie, or, if necessary, an act of social pressure. We need to return to this country the idea that it is normal and expected to vote — part of a tradition of participating in our democracy rather than simply letting it float down the river, out of our control, like a little paper boat.

So, that’s my sales pitch.

Go vote.

It won’t automagically fix everything. But it might just turn this boat off its current course, which is presently headed right for an iceberg.

Here, listen to this weird little birb, who is yelling at you to go vote.

(It is, I believe, a Carolina Wren.)

Let’s see, onto some quick news blips.

As I noted, Zer0es is $2.99 right now on e-book. And Invasive has dropped in price, too, for e-book, to $4.99. (Note: Invasive is not a sequel to Zer0es, but is set in the same world. Mostly a new cast of characters, with a few crossing over. You do not need to read one to understand the other.)

If you require good NaNoWriMo story counsel, Damn Fine Story is your friend.

It’s nothing I had any part of, but the gorgeous special edition of D&D: Art and Arcana is like, 50% off now at Amazon.

New Ragnatalk.

I just finished page proofs for Wanderers, so that goes out soon to potential blurbers and review places — though the book doesn’t arrive until July! It’s nice though that the publisher is really pushing the book early to build some momentum.

And that’s it.

Here is a photo of an Eastern Phoebe, and then some Halloween pumpkins, and then a frozen-ass American flag, which is hopefully not a metaphor for anything.

November 2, 2018 / 6 Comments

A Nibbling Of Numptious News Nuggets

IT’S FRIDAY so apparently that means I have more cool news to share. Which is nice! It’s nice to have things to talk about sometimes. So gird your loins, buckle your belts, and don’t forget to wash your hands with soap and water. Oh and get your damn flu shot.

Here are the quicky news bits —

• Zer0es is totally Sword and Laser’s book club book this month, so feel free to go and get in on that action — it’s got hackers and trolls and self-aware surveillance programs and body horror and other fun stuff. And if you haven’t read it yet, Harper Voyager did a wonderful thing and dropped the e-book price to $2.99 if you wanna grab it.

• Wanderers gets a shout-out at The Mary Sue, “A Unique Look At A Potential Armageddon.” I’m glad the excerpt at EW seemed to resonate with people. I’m very excited for you to read this book. As some have asked, yes, this book is in past tense, not present, and no, it’s not my first to do so — Double Dead, in fact, is in past tense. (Point of trivia: I get no royalties if you buy Double Dead and Unclean Spirits, by the way, as some have also asked that question.)

• And finally, it’s Episode 5 of Chuck & Anthony: Ragnatalk, in one of our favorite eps, this one titled: IT’S KORG O’CLOCK. Okay, the episode isn’t all about Korg — it’s also about Jeff Goldblum and Betty Crocker and Kite Man and Greg Pak and so on and so forth. GO LISTEN TO IT. Otherwise, PISS OFF, GHOST.

Don’t forget this weekend is Daylight Savings Time, where at 2AM we open the Time Jar and release the hour we’ve been keeping hostage for the last several months.

And also, come Tuesday —

Don’t forget to vote.

Your country, your democracy, and maybe the world literally counts on it.

November 1, 2018 / 26 Comments

Here Is How You NaNoWriMo, You Ruinous Monster, You

First, you get your coffee.

You sip it. You listen to it for ideas. It has no ideas, because it’s just coffee, and coffee is idea fuel. So you drink the coffee. Or tea. Or gin, I dunno. Hell, drink some water. Just drink something. YOU NEED TO HYDRATE that is just NaNoWriMo Law right there. You let the idea ghosts enter you. And percolate. And whisper their ways.

Then —

You open a Word document, or a Scrivener page, or a plain notebook.

You regard the open expanse.

The empty white.

It is perfect as-is.

It is pure and untouched like a newborn baby. (I mean, okay, that metaphor only works if you’ve never seen a newborn baby, who look like a bag of prunes that just crawled its way out of a burlap sack full of ambrosia salad. Those things are like Toilet Ghoulies.)

You have a choice —

You can leave the page as is, open, unscathed, unmarked, a snowy expanse after a fresh winter storm.

Or you can ruin it.

You can start putting crass LANGUAGE MARKS across it: clumsy, dirty scrawl denoting the gabble-gibber of humantongue. You can write words into sentences into paragraphs. You can stomp your muddy boots all over the damn thing. You can shit it all up. What once was an innocent tract of unbroken order is now a landfill of chaos.

So, that’s your choice.

Keep it perfect and pure.

Or ruin it.

My money’s on: ruin that motherfucker.

That, I think, is the guiding principle of National Novel Writing Month: you are here not for purity, not for innocence, not for perfection. You are here to ruin a perfectly good empty page. And that isn’t just the purview of this month — but it’s writing any story, on any day.

You do this.

And then you do it again.

And then again.

And again and again and again until you have something finished. And even then that finished thing isn’t finished, because you’ve got to rip it apart once more and stitch it back together again. Repair through destruction. A near-constant act of ruination.

Now, a word on ruination:

It sounds bad.

Ruin.

A mouse turd ruins an apple pie. Cockroach eggs ruin a perfectly good ear canal. A Trump supporter ruins any party. (Sorry, it’s not Halloween anymore, sorry for the scaaaaary stooooories.)

But ruination has value, too.

Think of how ruination contributes to the act of making a beautiful balsamic vinegar, or soy sauce, or whiskey. Cooking any meal is an act of ruining the thing again and again — chopping it, skinning it, cooking it, reducing it down and breaking it apart with knife and fork and later, teeth. Communication is the act of ruining silence. Having children is the act of ruining your ability to binge watch Netflix. You gotta ruin an acorn to make an oak tree. Gotta ruin a caterpillar to make a butterfly, who in turn must one day be ruined to make more caterpillars.

The act of creation is always paired with the act of ruination.

And so, in this National Novel Writing Month, you’re gonna do exactly that. You will make a story by destroying the space of the page and your own peace. It’s easier not to do it. It’s simpler to simply let your time and your world be unperturbed by the pyroclastic act of making cool shit, but I suspect you are not the kind to go comfortably unperturbed.

Today, you’re going to ruin one page. You’re going to fill it with words. Some will be amazing words. Some will be brutally inefficient. You will string them together and when read aloud, they will make music just as often as they make the sound of a tuba kicked down a set of steps. And you’re not going to care, because that is what it takes: the willingness to do a thing poorly, the eagerness to ruin an uninterrupted space, the sheer bloody-minded delight of carving your ideas down into rock even though the only desire of the rock is to be left the hell alone.

You’ll do this day in and day out until you have a finished thing.

Maybe it fits neatly into the box marked “November.”

Maybe it takes you into December and January.

Maybe it takes you twelve months instead of one, or three weeks instead of four.

Doesn’t matter.

The perfect is the enemy of the good.

Ruination is the best friend to creation.

So get to ruining.

Your month begins now.

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DAMN FINE STORY: Mastering the Tools of a Powerful Narrative

What do Luke Skywalker, John McClane, and a lonely dog on Ho’okipa Beach have in common? Simply put, we care about them.

Great storytelling is making readers care about your characters, the choices they make, and what happens to them. It’s making your audience feel the tension and emotion of a situation right alongside your protagonist. And to tell a damn fine story, you need to understand why and how that caring happens.

Whether you’re writing a novel, screenplay, video game, or comic, this funny and informative guide is chock-full of examples about the art and craft of storytelling–and how to write a damn fine story of your own.

Indiebound / Amazon / B&N