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In the looking glass

I was born six hours short of the new year in 1944. There, now you know how old I am.

My birthday, the last day of the year, troubled me for years. I entered public schools old enough that my peers (though they never had the gumption to question it aloud) wondered if I was held back because my grades toppled to the sub-basement inhabited by deficient students and reprobates. I can now reply, I was an above average student, neither genius nor dolt. There, now you know how smart I am.

I found myself out of place and out of time. A year behind the brave new world of my friends. They marched in joyful lock-step into a future that promised a whole bunch of some vague contentment. I was not a part of the new exciting dance of the Mid-twentieth Century. I was obscured in the dust of an expiring age. Too late for one era and too early for another. The oldest son-of-a-bitch in elementary school.  Unable to join in the fun of the party.

Third grade, I discovered the absolute marvel of science fiction. My fellow students were bound on a journey to become the cream of the crop, the apple of society’s eye. Gray flannel, white collared providers of the social order. I chose to live in a science fiction cosmos unbound in all dimension. Aware of the dystopian. Involved in the outré. Challenged by the surreal. Aware of wonder. Bathed in the mystery. I began to understand my date of birth indicated an avant grade, not a rear guard.

astroundingmagazine-otrcat.comScience Fiction from 1926 until the beginning of the 1960’s, filled with many of the dire cosmic warnings we find so troubling today, was optimistic. Comets plowed into the earth. Stars crashed into one another. Galaxies collided. Beaches in the twilight hours before the last days filled with our sightless crawling descendants would in short order be snuffed by an engorged sun. Blasters and ray guns gave way to tractor and pulser beams that lit the dark of space with a purple pulsing prose. Time travelers and UFO’s landed in obscure parts of the terrestrial globe by the score. Somehow, through the pages of cataclysm, we all survived to become stronger and whole

Hugo Gernsback, deep in love with the idea of technological change, created a magazine, “Amazing Stories.” Dedicated to the amateur tinkerer who hoisted on personal bootstraps and innovative invention, showed the way to the new world order. Gernsback called this new kind of literature scientifiction. He, without shame, stated scientifiction, which was hitherto created by scientists who experimented in fiction, would take on the new role of creating a new breed of scientists who practiced science created by fiction.

John W Campbell pushed the rolling slug further down the path. Somewhere along the line, while he and his writer’s were perfecting the fiction side of the equation, he became involved with several movements that stressed a new human potential. Alfred Korzybski and the time-bound General Semantics included in A.E. Van Vogt’s Worlds of Null-A. The Rhines at Duke University flashing cards of telepathic impressions portrayed in endless tales of telekinesis and fearful mind reading überfolks. The science fiction writer Damon Knight claimed would disappear off into the desert of the American West never to be heard of again. The creator of Campbell’s most deep dip off the end of the pier, the science fiction writer who created Dianetics, L. Ron Hubbard. Campbell wore out the e-meters of his writers and his readers.

All in the name of an enhanced zeitgeist. I found it an exciting and dangerous time to come of age. Full of energy, hope, and a sense of overwhelming grand destiny. SO. Where did it all go wrong?

President’s Blog

I like to complain. So, when someone looks at my aging countenance and remarks, “Getting old is a bitch, ain’t it?” I immediately launch into a smarmy face that shows commiseration. I follow with a list of infirmities and medical oddities that would send a pharmaceutical company into a frenzy of ailment influenced naming rights.

I do find comfort in my waning years. For many reasons, most as boring as my inventory of gripes, I will not present you a checklist of my geriatric satisfactions. I would like to point out one particular joy. It has to do with science fiction. It has to do with coming of age in the era of nineteen fifty’s science fiction. I returned home after a hard day’s day last week to discover a package leaning against my front storm door. Excited, I ripped open the cardboard to reveal a hefty collection of DVDs.

I know, I am about to tread in a time period that is remote to many of you as the Pleistocene, but hop on the bicycle saddle and join me on a trip back in time before “Star Trek” was any kind of reality. “The Outer Limits” (which endeavors to take control of our television set as we zip past) is a relative newcomer. We move on beyond a fifth dimension “as vast as space and as timeless as infinity, The Twilight Zone.” We land on a Saturday evening in the spring of 1955. I was a youngster just knee-high to a Martian Bouncer.

I am on the floor in front of an immense twenty-one inch aluminized screen fitted into a mahogany console as grand as grandma’s heirloom cupboard. Rabbit ears are at attention. The endless fifteen-minute news broadcast has faded to a Pie Traynor pitch for a heating company.  Commercial over, a brass and string fanfare swells, the camera lingers on an oscillating radar disc, tilts down to some sort of miraculous control device, then pans stage left across a laboratory of gorgeous dials, blinking instrument lights, flat cathode ray displays, and gleaming metal toggles. Not an experimental workspace of the future, say 1972, but of this most exciting moment on the living room carpet.

“How do you do, ladies and gentlemen. I’m your host, Truman Bradley. Let me show you something interesting.” We are off! Season one, Episode one of “Science Fiction Theater.” The “something interesting” is always a scientific experiment. Bubbling paint off a wall with sound waves. A slo-mo image of a bullet piercing a television screen. Fragile glass shattering in sympathy with a struck tuning fork. The rushing clicks of a Geiger counter. All of which, in some manner, have something to do with the fictional presentation to follow. At tale end, Truman appears on screen, “Of course, this was a story. It didn’t happen… but it could have.”

The special effects were foolish to nil. The action had all the dynamism of a Victorian stage play. But the stories were capable of generating suspense, mystery, and the frisson only new intellectual notions can bring. While watching “Science Fiction Theater” for these two weeks, my eleven-year-old and my present psyche are both pleased the content, although dated and frozen in the science of the post World War II era, is strange and filled with wonder. And hope.

Stick around with me. Next week I want to talk about the optimism and advancing human potential that was found in SF until the mid-nineteen-sixties. “I’ll be back with you a week from today with another exciting adventure from the world of fiction and science.” Thank you, Truman, could hardly say it better myself.

Parsec Member Karen Malena has published her first SF Novel

Congratulations to Parsec Member Karen Malena who has published “Sound of Silence” her first science fiction novel.

SOUND OF SILENCE - Draft Cover 3WHAT IF SPEAKING BECAME A PUNISHABLE CRIME?
Monroeville, Pennsylvania—Author and writing mentor, Karen Malena will debut her dystopian, futuristic novel “Sound of Silence,” a timely story in our fast-paced world of text messages and electronics.

Malena is the author of four other novels, mostly inspirational fiction, and one fantasy cat tale. She also writes a heartfelt blog, The Finch’s Nest. “Sound of Silence,” a more cautionary tale, has been a creative burst and holds a powerful message. At the center of Malena’s writing is always some sort-of lesson learned, or redemptive qualities in dysfunctional settings.

A dark, all-encompassing law blankets the country. Driven by a terrible secret, a powerful politician brutally suppresses speech for the sake of order and holds the country in the palm of his hand. Ray Warren does the unthinkable. In a bold gesture, he seals his fate in a moment of kindness, a moment that marks Ray, his wife, and beautiful daughter as dangerous fugitives and sets a society toward rebellion. An ominous future is introduced in “Sound of Silence,” leaving us with the question: What if?

 

Maggie Stiefvater at YA Lecture Series Oct 17

Maggie Stiefvater will visit CMU for a free lecture on
Oct 17 from 2-3 pm. She writes young adult fiction, notably the 2010
New York Times Bestseller Linger and the 2011 Michael L. Printz Award
Honor Book The Scorpio Races. She worked for some time as a portrait
artist and is a race car and race car driving enthusiast. She was a
competitive bagpipe player in college while studying at Mary
Washington College in Fredericksburg, Virginia. She lives in
Shenandoah Valley in Virginia with her husband, two children, three
dogs, and one cat.

rachel grintiWant to learn writing from one of the best? Rachel Grinti was an Alpha
student then staff with books published with her husband Mike (who she
met her first year at Alpha). Register and come, 11 – 1 on Oct. 17 at
the University Center at CMU to learn about voice in genre
fiction. Register to participate here.

 

Fall 2015

Lecture Speaker: Maggie Stiefvater

Maggie Stiefvater writes Young Adult fiction novels and short fiction, notably the 2010 New York Times Bestseller Linger and the 2011 Michael L. Printz Award Honor Book The Scorpio Races. She worked for some time as a portrait artist and is a race car and race car driving enthusiast. She was a competitive bagpipe player in college while studying at Mary Washington College in Fredericksburg, Virginia. She lives in Shenandoah Valley in Virginia with her husband, two children, three dogs, and one cat.

 

Writing Workshop: Rachel Grinti

rachel grinti

Rachel Grinti writes books for children and teens and is a part-time youth services librarian. She thinks every story is better with dragons and every house is better with a Boston Terrier. Her most recent novel is Jala’s Mask (Pyr, 2014), co-written with Mike Grinti.

Zombie Opera Five Year Anniversary

Pittsburgh-created ‘music and multimedia hybrid’, Evenings in Quarantine: The Zombie Opera, which premiered in 2010, is proud to send an open invitation to join us in celebrating their Five-Year Anniversary at Mr. Smalls Theater in Millvale on October 3rd, 2015.

Scheduled festivities:

  • Doors will open at 6, with DJ music by DJ Circuitry aka zombie makeup designer Arvin Clay.
  • At 7 pm, cast members of the Zombie Opera will reiterate some of their feature pieces from the performance, as well as some pieces from recent and upcoming projects.
  • At 8 pm, The grand feature of the evening will be the first public screening of the Fall 2010 premiere performance of Evenings In Quarantine: The Zombie Opera. (also available on dvd with Audio Commentary*) If you’ve never seen the opera, seats will be available in the front of the theater for uninterrupted viewing.
  • In addition to the scheduled festivities, never before seen behind-the-scenes footage from the filming and production of the 2010 performance will be running continuously throughout the event.

This is an all-ages event, with a cash bar area in the back of the theater. Food will be available for purchase at the Mr. Smalls Restaurant.
All Zombie Opera participants (folks who were involved with the show from 2010-2011, our extras, cast, crew, volunteers etc) get in FREE. There is a $5 cover charge for non-Zoperans, aka general admission.

*Dvd, audio recordings, and more can be purchased online. They will also have physical copies of the dvd for sale on site at the event!

For more information see the Zombie Opera website and Facebook Event Page!

Oct 17 Lecture by Maggie Stiefvater

Maggie Stiefvater will visit CMU for a free lecture on Oct 17 from 2-3 pm. She writes young adult fiction, notably the 2010 New York Times Bestseller, Linger , and the 2011 Michael L. Printz Award Honor Book The Scorpio Races. She worked for some time as a portrait artist and is a race car and race car driving enthusiast. She was a competitive bagpipe player in college while studying at Mary Washington College in Fredericksburg, Virginia. She lives in Shenandoah Valley in Virginia with her husband, two children, three dogs, and one cat.

Want to learn writing from one of the best? Rachel Grinti was an Alpha student and then became staff. She published books with her husband Mike (who she met her first year at Alpha). Register and come, 11 – 1 on Oct. 17 at the University Center at CMU to learn about voice in genre fiction.