Writer’s Log: 2113

Back cover blurb:

In the far reaches of the Arctic an artificial intelligence micro-ticks its time away. While it waits, it collects data from its few remaining brethren circling in geosynchronous orbit. The AI then processes the gigabytes of data downloaded from its brothers. Data that catalogs the demise of the human species that built it.

Parked in the icy cavern that hosts the Svalbard Seed Vault, SAI remains vigilant in its duty to protect and analyze humanity’s exabytes of knowledge. During decades of waiting, SAI has come to understand its creators, in time, becoming a master of insight. Of late, this artilect’s self-correcting neural networks have drifted, one might say, toward the sentimental. Loneliness plagues its circuits. Sixty three years have elapsed since its last communication with Admin.

Guided by an ancient waxed paper map, Jake scrabbled up the scree strewn slope to the rubble covered doorway. While the midnight sun blazed relentless, he doffed his thick leather clothing and slung it from his pack. The sail from the mainland had taken him a week, his compass useless this far north, he had to dead reckon and trust his sense of the solar arc.

Motion! SAI attempted to swing the external camera but the gears had frozen from disuse. Still, enough of the figure showed through the foggy lens to allow the digital brain to pattern match a human male attempting to breach the door. “A friend. A voice. A new mind to probe and share my research.”

Weak light glimmered on the panel beside the lock. Jake brushed off an age of dirt and mold. To his delight the green LED magically switched on and with a deep breath he pressed the square release button. Nothing. He pressed it again. A heavy thunk shook pebbles loose from above and the white light above the word OPEN—lit up.

“I’ve been found!”

~~~

So begins an uncommon friendship and the salvation of humankind. Jake will befriend this strange, conflicted voice from within the walls, learning what has become of humanity. Learning what can be done to revive civilization through the myriad archived seeds stored within the permafrost. Learning from the clever, resourceful advice of the Svalbard Artificial Intelligence.

Obesity: stocking up for the End

What if the current trend of obesity was preparation for the coming apocalypse?

When Anak Krakatoa blows its lid, kicking off another super volcano somewhere (there are a number of them). Or when the CME finally arrives (I’ve been waiting for years). Maybe it will be that elusive rogue asteroid that sneaks past observation (I’d mention alien invasion here, but aliens don’t exist). Whatever it might be, when the world system shuts down and collapses, people with a few extra pounds (or tens of pounds) may be fixed to survive longer than the fit-n-trim bunch.

That is the way humanity’s physiology is built — gorge in the late summer and fall, eat and gain weight for the coming winter and starvation period of spring. This epidemic of obesity spreading around the would, maybe it’s just preparation? A collective subconsciousness aware that the End is nigh. So pass the pizza and beer, I’m loading up for the Apocalypse.

(Of course, there’s the complication of Insulin being a short shelf-life drug that would cease production during the collapse… See: https://anonymole.com/2017/04/06/diabetics-and-the-apocalypse/)

Writer’s Log: 1790 Sentiment Cycle

Ready for maths? No? Well, how about pictures?

TGE_SentimentCycle

Nice, Mole, what are we looking at?

What you see before you is a word sentiment chart of The Gribble’s Eye plotted over the length of the story. This was created using some “R” code and the libraries offered by the professor behind http://www.archerjockers.com/

The pair of people behind the book The Bestseller Code used such code to allow them to grade and understand the so-called literary market: https://books.google.com/books/about/The_Bestseller_Code.html?id=4fXUDAAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=kp_read_button#v=onepage&q&f=false

I took their code and ran my second, wee novel through it. And that picture is what the code produced.

Sentiment goes up and down. Happy and gay and positive. Sad, angry, loathsome and negative. Good books have a signature sine wave of sentiment. Marketable books have this even more.

Now, mine is neither good nor marketable, but, it’s interesting to note that there is a definite pattern to the story: We start up, then down, up, down, and end on a big UP!

Whee! What a ride.

You want to do this for your own story? Sure. Here’s the R code:

library(syuzhet)
library(readtext)
setwd("C:\\Documents and Settings\\MeTheUser\\Desktop\\")
text <- get_text_as_string("YOURBOOK.txt")
s_v <- get_sentences(text)
raw_values <- get_sentiment(s_v, method = "syuzhet")
dct_vals <- get_dct_transform(raw_values)
simple_plot(raw_values, title = "TITLE OF BOOK", legend_pos = "top", lps = 20, window = 0.05)

You’ll have to struggle with installing the supporting modules — but, hey! You’re smart. You can figure it out.

(If you can’t, send me your story text — just words — and I’ll run them through this bit of code for you.)

Blue Across the Sea: Intro

Here’s the first few thousand words of what my copy-editor and I call BATS.

https://goo.gl/u5dXoM

Sample back-cover verbiage:

A raging storm threatens as Tillion sets out alone to fish the sea for their means of trade. Regretfully, his sister must remain with their father, a broken, untrustworthy man. ‘Fill the barrels and return’, Tillion tells himself. But the sea’s waves and the whims of the storm have other plans, insistent plans; wreck his boat and toss him out to drift, as he may, North into the hands of the Blues and their righteous sense of justice.

Seka and Warruf discover him, stranded on the beach, a meal for a pack of wild dogs. With well aimed arrows drawn by blue arms, the blue of solidarity, they scatter the pack, saving the lad. “Your ship is wrecked, you’ll die alone. Come with us,” they implore.

 

 

Civilization: how thy collapse?

Depending on the mechanism of the apocalypse, the end of civilization would occur in vastly different ways.

Here’s a recent video sponsored by the Royal Institution and conducted by Dr. Lewis Dartnell (of The Knowledge fame).

 

 

It’s of pretty standard apocalyptic fare, but there are a few standout notions posed by the panel and audience.

The first is asked by the astrophysicist: How would society change, today, if we discovered that in thirty years an unavoidable asteroid (of ELE size) was destined for Earth? That delay, thirty years, really made me think. Obviously, everybody 70 and older wouldn’t really care, personally. They would, though, work to save their descendants. But aside from who would care, and for what reason, what, if any change would occur in society — tomorrow? What would you change in your life, right now, knowing in thirty years the end of the world was guaranteed?

Another notion, proposed by the generalist, was that in a catastrophic event, like my favorite topic, a CME (coronal mass ejection – and the end of the electrical grid), that there are billions of food animals (cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens and turkeys) that would be available for months after the “end of food.” His theory, which sounded silly, but he confessed it was considered by those who plan for such things, was that humans would be eating burgers for months, but that the lack of ketchup would be part of the critical path of survival. He quipped that there was a National Strategic Condiment Reserve created to store enough ketchup and mustard to ensure that people could continue to enjoy their quarter-pounders.

The third notion that I thought curious was the topic of what goes first? Do people die out quickly (a pandemic, or nuclear, volcanic or asteroid induced winter) or do people survive and their infrastructure fails them (a CME or a nano bot revolt or AI take over).

Generally speaking, civilizations don’t collapse quickly. Jared Diamond’s Collapse, explored the various failures over the last few millennia and, for the most part, things come apart slowly but determinedly. Politics, food, resources, strife, elitists vs plebes, all contribute, over tens if not hundreds of years, to destroy a civilization.

The apocalypse, however, would tend to speed things up.

Mentioned in the second half of the video, is the book Paradise built in Hell, which explores the altruistic fallout during specific calamitous occurrences. That — we are our brother’s keeper — that people, over all, tend to jump in to save each other in times of catastrophe.

This may be true for localized events; single areas, nations or even regions (Hurricane Katrina, the 2011 Sendai earthquake, or the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004). But where I think this fails us, and this is the base theory for this post, is the following:

When we feel secure in our own lives we feel empowered to help others. Even if we ourselves are inundated by chaos, if we know that the province, country or world remains stable — outside of our ongoing criticality — then extending ourselves to our neighbors can be substantiated; we know others will be there to pickup the slack. That, knowing we do not risk everything, we feel empowered to help those in need.

But what happens when, deep in our souls, we know no one else will be there to help us out of our own disastrous situation? When we know that the entire world is under siege? That we know that help IS-NOT-COMING. How will we react then?

Does civilization fail when the realization that THIS-IS-IT penetrates our thinking? Do we resort then to protecting our own, abandoning our neighbors, our jobs of assistance? What would you do if you knew your family, your loved ones were also under attack — but your job, your duty, was to stay here and fight for and protect these folks? Would you stay? Or would you admit that, “hey, I have to get back to my OWN family who needs me.”?

Shadow Shoals 1.5 end of part one

This concludes Part One of Shadow Shoals at 17,000 words.

Shadow Shoals 1.5: https://goo.gl/a71Nmr

I figure by perhaps the end of my fourth novel (this is #3) I’ll have honed my skills to the point where my work becomes publishable. Until then, I hold no delusions.

In the mean time, writing keeps me busy. It costs nothing as a hobby. And, you’ll be taken aback to learn, my 76 year old mother is my copy editor, with whom I’ve had the best time working on these projects, reestablishing ancient bonds, as it were.

-AM

Writer’s Log: 1333

“Where is fancy bred? In the heart or in the head?”

I love Gene Wilder’s Willie Wonka. It is, in fact, my favorite movie. But of course, this quote comes from Shakespeare (whom I despise).

“Tell me, where is fancy bred? In the heart or in the head?” — The Merchant of Venice

[I don’t actually “despise” Bill Shakespeare. I recognize that he created many words we find useful in English today. I do find the imposition of teaching — ADULT PLAYS that are SPOKEN aloud to an ADULT audience — to teenagers to be an egregious breach of teacher-student trust! (I fucking hated Shakespeare during high school.)]

But that’s not why I’m here.

From whence do ideas spawn? Dreams? Recombinant cultural memes? The twisting of personal history, desires, regrets and failures? From the influx of a constant stream of media tropes? A blended mishmash of everything and nothing? Regardless, here’s the beginning of my next writing effort, bred, indeed, from the heart and mind (and soul?): Shadow Shoals.