I'll be 30 in a little over five months and I still don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing with my life. So there's that. For the longest time, I thought I was going to grow up to become some sort of great novelist. Since I was about ten or eleven. Twelve at the most. That was the plan. Then I got older and I got drunk and I moved and I needed a job to survive and... well, life happens.
That's no excuse. I have more than a few friends who have written their own novels, life be damned. I haven't. Laziness. Lack of motivation. Fear of failure. Whatever it is, I just haven't done it. That's not to say, though, that I don't have an idea. Had one for a couple of years now. Even started on it once. Wrote about three pages. The next great American novelist.
Heh. Let's be fair, even if I published a novel, it's going to be far from some kind of great literary revelation. Don't get me wrong, I'm good at what I do. But what I do is not enlightening. It's some sad sort of nerdgasmic hellspawn of Star Wars and Schwarzenegger breeding in my brain.
Back to the point. There was a conversation I had with a friend, a few years ago now, about science fiction. The exact details are lost to me now, but there was an interesting conversation about certain sci-fi genres, particularly those attempts at the grand space opera ala Star Wars or Star Trek. In fairness, his argument was sound. What we see a lot of times is this attempt to create the next big thing. So pieces and parts of other stories are cannibalized and thrown into this blender of nonsense that has a singular function of producing "bigger." The strangest aliens, the most futuristic clothing and gear, the most technologically advanced ships and weapons. It's all about making this new thing shinier and more exciting than the last thing. It has nothing to do with creating a new intellectual product or adding something real to the conversation. It's not about making strides or furthering the genre. It's just about getting noticed. Right now. How much money can we make in the next six months? It's the Chris Jericho jacket of science fiction.
I wish I remembered more about the conversation, but it's gotten lost in what I turned it into. Most of what I wrote above is not from him, but from how I feel about it now. Looking back. I just remember that the biggest problem with these things was that he couldn't relate. You have these futuristic societies, or alternate realities, but either way there is supposed to be an anchor here to our world. To where we're at now. These are cultures and circumstances that supposedly evolved from now into wherever they are. But how did we go from assault rifles to laser swords? How do we go from a country that can barely hold together a space program to dominating the universe? And assuming that there are aliens in these fantastic new worlds, how did humans become so damn prevalent and influential in a universe with other species that have existed for who knows how long without us?
I'm sure I could go on, but this is the general idea. Of course if something has a captivating story, these details are irrelevant. We're willing to forgive more of these nuisances if we're entertained. But if there's even a single crack, one mistake or one line that brings these questions into focus... then we can't help but continue asking them, knowing that we'll never get the answer. There is no answer. It just is.
For some people, that is not an acceptable reason.
So I took it upon myself, sort of as a personal challenge, to just come up with an idea that my friend would like. To create a believable, futuristic society that colonizes other planets and explores the far reaches of space. I wanted to create a universe in which he could exist. I figured that the best way for him to relate to something, for him to understand and respond to it, he would have to be able to live there. So I thought and I thought and I come up with nothing. After all, why would a dude like him over go up into space?
Actually, why would anyone ever want to go up into space?
The answer to that question is singular and obvious. People would go into space because they want to be Han Solo. It's that simple.
This is where things take a shift because that answer does not at all apply to my friend. So we have quickly veered off from what he would like to what I would like. Things happen like that.
I've had a few other ideas for different stories that evolved along the same lines. "What would X friend do in Y scenario?" Now since these ideas have been based on people I know, I have insisted (because I am a strange, strange man) in keeping them as accurate and connected to our current timeline as possible. Of course, there has to be something that breaks us from this mundane life and thrusts us into something fantastic (alien invasion, meteors crashing to Earth, etc.). But at some point this shift happens and our lives go from what they are now to whatever the story demands.
In this case, we need to get to space. I've settled on the idea that, at least in these wondrous worlds I've created, the Mayans were sort of right. The world might not end in 2012, but it changes. The world as we know it ends. It becomes a new world. So, for this idea, a spaceship crashes in the Midwest. Somewhere it can't be ignored, like crashing into Indianapolis on a Tuesday afternoon. Big news. Big fucking deal. The world goes insane.
Now there are a lot of details to figure out and sort out, and I'll need to do some research and ask for help on certain subjects, but the basic idea is that the ship crashed in the US, so we take claim of it. We have allies in the world, though, and we're not exactly a scientific pioneer these days... so people start to take sides. Everyone wants to study this thing. To work on it. Learn from it. This spaceship becomes an unexpected catalyst for world peace, (I know the more realistic answer is that we'd all go to war over it, but that doesn't suit my purposes). The United States, unable to unlock the mysteries of this ship alone, turns to the UN for help. The greatest scientific minds of the world begin working on this ship, attempting to reverse engineer the technology that created it. With stunning success, I should add (otherwise, this story would go nowhere).
I'm not saying this all goes completely smoothly. There would be dissenters and probably some smaller wars that crop up over the scientific discoveries. But what we're dealing with is a future where, through the combined efforts and participations of the most advanced countries on the planet, the UN has become a true world power. Those who strike against it are striking against an overwhelmingly powerful force. Our grasp of science and what we can achieve is growing exponentially. Those that do not fall in line and contribute to the greater good will just be left behind as the rest of the world evolves.
OK. So we reverse engineer this thing (somehow, science geeks help me out here) and we figure out how to travel through space. We can build spaceships that will sustain us and we can begin to colonize new worlds. The spaceship crash is the catalyst for the next great scientific revolution, and we just create the future we've always dreamed of within the matter of a few short years.
Which is where I hit the first big snag. I'm thinking of this and I'm at the point where we can begin colonizing new worlds and inhabiting new solar systems and... fuck. If we can colonize a new planet, let's use Mars for the simple example... I mean, if we can shoot people into space and create these quick, life sustaining colonies with living space for families and crops for food and whatever the hell else we could need to survive on a hostile environment... why the fuck wouldn't we just do that on Earth and save the trouble?
So we did. Or do. We have to, because I thought of the snag and now I can't let it go. If we can create farms on Mars we sure as shit can do the same thing in Africa. If we can drop a habitat on the third moon of Nexus Prime, there's no reason we couldn't do that same thing in Antarctica or the Sahara or fucking wherever we want. We can create entire self-sustaining cities in the middle of the ocean if we want.
This brings us back around to that whole idea of world peace and the UN becoming this amazing world power. Because the associated countries of the world, through the UN, have developed this fantastic technology to literally build a better world. Who doesn't want that? We're talking about the (relative) end of world hunger. Homelessness is nonexistent when we can build a home in even the most inhospitable of environments.
Great. That's one problem solved. Now I created an even bigger one. Earth is the peaceful, futuristic utopia we've always wanted. So, if it's so gods damned perfect, why would anyone want to leave to go up into space?
Without a doubt we're going to have countries and private companies exploring the reaches of space. There's a market, even if a small one, for colonies in space. There are bound to be valuable resources on other planets. This is not even a new concept. All sorts of science fiction is based on the idea that space is full of blue-collar workers either digging up or hauling unobtainium from some backwater world. These people are going to need some sort of protection out there, too, right?
Private companies. Private security firms. Government employees and military personnel. It makes sense that if we're going to have a utopian society, we might as well find a planet to serve as our new Australia and ship all the criminals out there. Get them away from the good, law-abiding citizens of Earth. So add criminals to that list, too.
For the most part, we have a lot of people going to space that have no choice. You get shipped out, exiled, or assigned to the exploration of the final frontier. Not a lot of volunteers.
Which leaves me with the same damn question I started with. Why would my friend, or anyone else for that matter, volunteer to go up and explore or live in space?
Now as I stated at the beginning of this post, I'm almost 30 and haven't a fucking clue what I'm doing. I'm living life, I'm attempting to get through it and survive, but I've got no goal. I've got no end game other than the next paycheck. You take that person, you take a kid like me who grew up worshiping Star Wars, and you put him in a world where we now have the ability to go into space. You present him with that opportunity. A company that's willing to pay good wages for him to live his childhood dream of becoming Han Solo.
Sign. Me. The. Fuck. Up.
Which brings us to the gimmick. This is the schtick that either makes or breaks the story. I've created this future with a perfect world. Man is exploring space for the simple sake of great exploration (and great amounts of greed, but history teaches us this is the basis for most of human exploration). Space, the final frontier, is populated with people who have either been forced up there or volunteered because they wanted to explore the Final Frontier. Because some kid wanted to sit in a chair on the bridge of a spaceship and do his terrible James Kirk impression. Now he can. And he does.
This is the kicker. This is where things get a little muddled and some, who have heard this proposition before, tell me I'll be sued. I don't think I will, as it's not a direct form of theft but more of an homage, if anything (there are plenty of TV shows and movies that reference other TV shows and movies, and that's all I'll be doing). But this is it. I've created a future and I intend to fill it with people who are more than aware that they're in the future. (Imagine a space version of, uh, Spaced.)
This is something that's always bugged me. As of the past five or so years, entertainment has become much better about acknowledging other vessels of entertainment. I've seen horror movies that reference other horror movies and I've seen sitcoms that are nothing more but interpretations and regurgitations of beloved or not so beloved science fiction. However, I cannot think of (I assume it must exist, I just don't know of it) a science fiction that so lovingly embraces the fact that it's science fiction in the same fashion that horror movies will gleefully throw down a reference to Freddy or Jason as they run from whatever this year's new cool monster is. (I'm sure it'll take three seconds for people to make a long list of sci fi that does just this and ruin my whole idea and make me cry. Assholes.)
That's what I want. I want a space fiction extravaganza that lovingly embraces it's a space fiction extravaganza. I want Character A to remind Character B that jumping into hyperspace isn't like dusting crops, right before he pushes the button that will launch them into lightspeed. I want a platoon leader that commands his troops to set their phasers to stun before entering the Cave of Alien Monstrosities That Will Likely Suck Out Our Brains. I want someone on the bridge of a ship to point out this rather dire space battle is just like that one episode of BSG where Starbuck ignored orders and did that stupid thing that shouldn't have worked but did and saved the fleet. Or... whatever.
You get the point. I want a world that grew up too fast, and knows it grew up too fast. I want to see what would happen if I took my friends and put them in space. So that's the general basis for the story. That's the hook.
Funny enough, my friend will probably hate it.
(PS: For those curious, the novel itself deals with a crew of such nerds and scoundrels returning to the one planet that was, allegedly, invaded by aliens to discover the truth of what happened there.)
That's no excuse. I have more than a few friends who have written their own novels, life be damned. I haven't. Laziness. Lack of motivation. Fear of failure. Whatever it is, I just haven't done it. That's not to say, though, that I don't have an idea. Had one for a couple of years now. Even started on it once. Wrote about three pages. The next great American novelist.
Heh. Let's be fair, even if I published a novel, it's going to be far from some kind of great literary revelation. Don't get me wrong, I'm good at what I do. But what I do is not enlightening. It's some sad sort of nerdgasmic hellspawn of Star Wars and Schwarzenegger breeding in my brain.
Back to the point. There was a conversation I had with a friend, a few years ago now, about science fiction. The exact details are lost to me now, but there was an interesting conversation about certain sci-fi genres, particularly those attempts at the grand space opera ala Star Wars or Star Trek. In fairness, his argument was sound. What we see a lot of times is this attempt to create the next big thing. So pieces and parts of other stories are cannibalized and thrown into this blender of nonsense that has a singular function of producing "bigger." The strangest aliens, the most futuristic clothing and gear, the most technologically advanced ships and weapons. It's all about making this new thing shinier and more exciting than the last thing. It has nothing to do with creating a new intellectual product or adding something real to the conversation. It's not about making strides or furthering the genre. It's just about getting noticed. Right now. How much money can we make in the next six months? It's the Chris Jericho jacket of science fiction.
I wish I remembered more about the conversation, but it's gotten lost in what I turned it into. Most of what I wrote above is not from him, but from how I feel about it now. Looking back. I just remember that the biggest problem with these things was that he couldn't relate. You have these futuristic societies, or alternate realities, but either way there is supposed to be an anchor here to our world. To where we're at now. These are cultures and circumstances that supposedly evolved from now into wherever they are. But how did we go from assault rifles to laser swords? How do we go from a country that can barely hold together a space program to dominating the universe? And assuming that there are aliens in these fantastic new worlds, how did humans become so damn prevalent and influential in a universe with other species that have existed for who knows how long without us?
I'm sure I could go on, but this is the general idea. Of course if something has a captivating story, these details are irrelevant. We're willing to forgive more of these nuisances if we're entertained. But if there's even a single crack, one mistake or one line that brings these questions into focus... then we can't help but continue asking them, knowing that we'll never get the answer. There is no answer. It just is.
For some people, that is not an acceptable reason.
So I took it upon myself, sort of as a personal challenge, to just come up with an idea that my friend would like. To create a believable, futuristic society that colonizes other planets and explores the far reaches of space. I wanted to create a universe in which he could exist. I figured that the best way for him to relate to something, for him to understand and respond to it, he would have to be able to live there. So I thought and I thought and I come up with nothing. After all, why would a dude like him over go up into space?
Actually, why would anyone ever want to go up into space?
The answer to that question is singular and obvious. People would go into space because they want to be Han Solo. It's that simple.
This is where things take a shift because that answer does not at all apply to my friend. So we have quickly veered off from what he would like to what I would like. Things happen like that.
I've had a few other ideas for different stories that evolved along the same lines. "What would X friend do in Y scenario?" Now since these ideas have been based on people I know, I have insisted (because I am a strange, strange man) in keeping them as accurate and connected to our current timeline as possible. Of course, there has to be something that breaks us from this mundane life and thrusts us into something fantastic (alien invasion, meteors crashing to Earth, etc.). But at some point this shift happens and our lives go from what they are now to whatever the story demands.
In this case, we need to get to space. I've settled on the idea that, at least in these wondrous worlds I've created, the Mayans were sort of right. The world might not end in 2012, but it changes. The world as we know it ends. It becomes a new world. So, for this idea, a spaceship crashes in the Midwest. Somewhere it can't be ignored, like crashing into Indianapolis on a Tuesday afternoon. Big news. Big fucking deal. The world goes insane.
Now there are a lot of details to figure out and sort out, and I'll need to do some research and ask for help on certain subjects, but the basic idea is that the ship crashed in the US, so we take claim of it. We have allies in the world, though, and we're not exactly a scientific pioneer these days... so people start to take sides. Everyone wants to study this thing. To work on it. Learn from it. This spaceship becomes an unexpected catalyst for world peace, (I know the more realistic answer is that we'd all go to war over it, but that doesn't suit my purposes). The United States, unable to unlock the mysteries of this ship alone, turns to the UN for help. The greatest scientific minds of the world begin working on this ship, attempting to reverse engineer the technology that created it. With stunning success, I should add (otherwise, this story would go nowhere).
I'm not saying this all goes completely smoothly. There would be dissenters and probably some smaller wars that crop up over the scientific discoveries. But what we're dealing with is a future where, through the combined efforts and participations of the most advanced countries on the planet, the UN has become a true world power. Those who strike against it are striking against an overwhelmingly powerful force. Our grasp of science and what we can achieve is growing exponentially. Those that do not fall in line and contribute to the greater good will just be left behind as the rest of the world evolves.
OK. So we reverse engineer this thing (somehow, science geeks help me out here) and we figure out how to travel through space. We can build spaceships that will sustain us and we can begin to colonize new worlds. The spaceship crash is the catalyst for the next great scientific revolution, and we just create the future we've always dreamed of within the matter of a few short years.
Which is where I hit the first big snag. I'm thinking of this and I'm at the point where we can begin colonizing new worlds and inhabiting new solar systems and... fuck. If we can colonize a new planet, let's use Mars for the simple example... I mean, if we can shoot people into space and create these quick, life sustaining colonies with living space for families and crops for food and whatever the hell else we could need to survive on a hostile environment... why the fuck wouldn't we just do that on Earth and save the trouble?
So we did. Or do. We have to, because I thought of the snag and now I can't let it go. If we can create farms on Mars we sure as shit can do the same thing in Africa. If we can drop a habitat on the third moon of Nexus Prime, there's no reason we couldn't do that same thing in Antarctica or the Sahara or fucking wherever we want. We can create entire self-sustaining cities in the middle of the ocean if we want.
This brings us back around to that whole idea of world peace and the UN becoming this amazing world power. Because the associated countries of the world, through the UN, have developed this fantastic technology to literally build a better world. Who doesn't want that? We're talking about the (relative) end of world hunger. Homelessness is nonexistent when we can build a home in even the most inhospitable of environments.
Great. That's one problem solved. Now I created an even bigger one. Earth is the peaceful, futuristic utopia we've always wanted. So, if it's so gods damned perfect, why would anyone want to leave to go up into space?
Without a doubt we're going to have countries and private companies exploring the reaches of space. There's a market, even if a small one, for colonies in space. There are bound to be valuable resources on other planets. This is not even a new concept. All sorts of science fiction is based on the idea that space is full of blue-collar workers either digging up or hauling unobtainium from some backwater world. These people are going to need some sort of protection out there, too, right?
Private companies. Private security firms. Government employees and military personnel. It makes sense that if we're going to have a utopian society, we might as well find a planet to serve as our new Australia and ship all the criminals out there. Get them away from the good, law-abiding citizens of Earth. So add criminals to that list, too.
For the most part, we have a lot of people going to space that have no choice. You get shipped out, exiled, or assigned to the exploration of the final frontier. Not a lot of volunteers.
Which leaves me with the same damn question I started with. Why would my friend, or anyone else for that matter, volunteer to go up and explore or live in space?
Now as I stated at the beginning of this post, I'm almost 30 and haven't a fucking clue what I'm doing. I'm living life, I'm attempting to get through it and survive, but I've got no goal. I've got no end game other than the next paycheck. You take that person, you take a kid like me who grew up worshiping Star Wars, and you put him in a world where we now have the ability to go into space. You present him with that opportunity. A company that's willing to pay good wages for him to live his childhood dream of becoming Han Solo.
Sign. Me. The. Fuck. Up.
Which brings us to the gimmick. This is the schtick that either makes or breaks the story. I've created this future with a perfect world. Man is exploring space for the simple sake of great exploration (and great amounts of greed, but history teaches us this is the basis for most of human exploration). Space, the final frontier, is populated with people who have either been forced up there or volunteered because they wanted to explore the Final Frontier. Because some kid wanted to sit in a chair on the bridge of a spaceship and do his terrible James Kirk impression. Now he can. And he does.
This is the kicker. This is where things get a little muddled and some, who have heard this proposition before, tell me I'll be sued. I don't think I will, as it's not a direct form of theft but more of an homage, if anything (there are plenty of TV shows and movies that reference other TV shows and movies, and that's all I'll be doing). But this is it. I've created a future and I intend to fill it with people who are more than aware that they're in the future. (Imagine a space version of, uh, Spaced.)
This is something that's always bugged me. As of the past five or so years, entertainment has become much better about acknowledging other vessels of entertainment. I've seen horror movies that reference other horror movies and I've seen sitcoms that are nothing more but interpretations and regurgitations of beloved or not so beloved science fiction. However, I cannot think of (I assume it must exist, I just don't know of it) a science fiction that so lovingly embraces the fact that it's science fiction in the same fashion that horror movies will gleefully throw down a reference to Freddy or Jason as they run from whatever this year's new cool monster is. (I'm sure it'll take three seconds for people to make a long list of sci fi that does just this and ruin my whole idea and make me cry. Assholes.)
That's what I want. I want a space fiction extravaganza that lovingly embraces it's a space fiction extravaganza. I want Character A to remind Character B that jumping into hyperspace isn't like dusting crops, right before he pushes the button that will launch them into lightspeed. I want a platoon leader that commands his troops to set their phasers to stun before entering the Cave of Alien Monstrosities That Will Likely Suck Out Our Brains. I want someone on the bridge of a ship to point out this rather dire space battle is just like that one episode of BSG where Starbuck ignored orders and did that stupid thing that shouldn't have worked but did and saved the fleet. Or... whatever.
You get the point. I want a world that grew up too fast, and knows it grew up too fast. I want to see what would happen if I took my friends and put them in space. So that's the general basis for the story. That's the hook.
Funny enough, my friend will probably hate it.
(PS: For those curious, the novel itself deals with a crew of such nerds and scoundrels returning to the one planet that was, allegedly, invaded by aliens to discover the truth of what happened there.)
