This in part an open letter to some of my more er… moderate friends. In particular I wish to assure the two individuals whom I will refer as The Unyielding Old Guard Reaganite* and The Joyful Padre of Mayham and Space Pirates.
No I have not abandoned you to go LARPing for Hitler. I am simply exploring the Right for ideas as I once explored the Left.
To any younger readers I would like to rather plainly state the Left is a barren wasteland of ideas; full of lies, rocks and scorpions. Although to be fair you can smoke the tumbleweeds and have a pretty good time. If you must explore these lands, do so quickly, do not linger long in them and be prepared for danger and treachery from unexpected directions.
Just as the Sons of Liberty must remain eternally vigilant. A Son of Champlain must explore and must seek the truth where ever he can find it. I promise that I will not throw myself off of the edge of the world but I will goddamnit find where this continent ends!
As a writer I have always been very good at dialogue and character. It seems that all I really needed was to have ideas for those characters to dialogue about.
Blue SF is Big Idea Science Fiction. That is what I’m interested in. A four page discussion on proper pronouns doesn’t strike me as terribly interesting when what I want to tell is the story of an entire civilization that trying to recover from a traumatic blow, surrounded by aggressive foreign powers and continuously haunted by the prospect of a religious civil war.
My oldest notes for this particular universe are at least a decade old.
One of the central points in that the main protagonist culture has just recently finished cultural and ethnically absorbing a conquering ruling elite from an invasion four centuries just like the Chinese absorbed their Mongol masters at one point in history. The strange course of history has left our protagonist culture taking back control of their nation only to find themselves in control of an Empire they do not want but cannot get rid of lest their enemies seize those colonial and subjected worlds and turn them against their old masters.
This leads to a cultural and political phenomenon I’ve come to call the Beautiful Terror. A nation of warm happy fuzzy liberals who just want to left alone to dance naked in their flower gardens and watch classic children cartoons while they enjoy their rich cultural heritage. Unfortunately their military is badly overextended, their colonies are full of angry gun toting barbarians who need to be brutally put down and pirates, smugglers and ‘privateers’ are reeking havoc on the spacelanes.
Sounds pretty Alt-Right doesn’t it? Well I thought of the core concept five of six years ago before I met any of you Magic Space Aryan Supermen. I’ve just never been able to do anything with it.
Basically it’s all one big seething ball of chaos all somehow holding together. One moment you’re at a bongo drum circle protesting the cultural imperialism and arrogance of ruling establishment the next moment you’re a Tom Kratman novel trying not to get ethnically cleansed off the planet. Then you’re getting press-ganged into Navy because they’re short of nuclear power technicians and you took that one course back in high school. So it’s off to fight pirates and rebels in a hopelessly obsolete cruiser barely fit for scrap metal. Don’t worry kid you’ll catch on quickly. Just try not to press the wrong button and kill us all before breakfast.
Does that sound like anything TOR books would publish? Nope didn’t think so. So why even bother trying? Of course I was going for such a huge degree of difficulty it’s probably no surprise that I failed continuously. Trying to channel H. Beam Piper, David Weber with a touch of Heinlein was only doomed to end in disaster. If only there was a short fiction market or someplace I could use to hone my craft.
So anyway I will be attempting to bring the terror and the beauty of the Beautiful Terror back to life. While I don’t have a detailed plot outlined there’s enough potential for conflict in this set up that I should be able to come up with a least an occasional story. An awful lot of what I’ve been doing on this blog has been just me stretching my muscles and testing myself. Too long have I been a slave.
There was one of the main reasons behind writing Eve of Battle. Also I was scared, pissed off and determined to do something useful. Zombie Clinton’s half arsed fail of speech took a lot of the wind out of that particular sail though, it was still a breakthrough for me as a writer. Even if it was stupid fanfiction.
Also I am going to be playing around with short fiction as much as I can. I will eventually need beta readers but that’s a long time in the future. Will definitely have to bounce some ideas off of some Afghan and Iraq war veterans to make sure they make coherent sense but again that’s for the future.
In the event that I am forced by circumstances to publish under a pen name I have decided to use Magnus Thunderfist. I feel that this is a proper nom de plume suitable for only the most prestigious and moosefart scented of high Canadian literature. Wolfman is simply too generic a handle for long form literature and having to constantly remind people on the internet that I am not actually a furry, does get somewhat annoying from time to time.
To be fair by the time I actually have a full length novel in a publishable state I should have my life together to the point where taking off the mask does not expose me as a potential weak point that can be used to attack my friends.
Anyway I’m very thankful to everyone who believed in me even when I did not believe in myself. I’ve either had a breakthrough or I am having a breakdown. Either it should be a fun thing to watch for anyone who reads this blog.
To the Chorfs, gatekeepers and all-sorted rainbow haired hucksters: We shall build Cultures of Life to rain ruination down upon your Cult of Death. Keep your Little Idea science fiction, it is of no use to us; but we will pry your slimy hands off of Big Idea science fiction and then laugh as all you cherish perishes in flames.
To those who broke down the gates and sent the gatekeepers scattering in all directions screaming about Space Raptors and Cat pictures: Thank you. My lost dream has been restored and I shall strive to bring it to life.
And finally to the lost souls of Pepe’s Rebellion: Go ahead! Burn it all down!
*Guessing about the Reagan part. Curious to find out how close I got to that particular mark.