My current work in progress is actually my first foray into real hard science fiction. Usually I prefer writing urban fantasy and fantasy, because there's so much less research involved, and frankly I read a lot more urban fantasy than I do science fiction. However, earlier this year, I decided I wanted to write a space opera about a group of individuals in the middle of an interstellar war.
Since I know little about war and even less about physics, that meant I had to do a lot of research. I'm basing a lot of my political climate and structure of the war on the events and intricacies of World War I, making that part of the novel much easier to write.
My trouble was with the physics. You see, if I'm going to even read science fiction, I want to have it fit together in a plausible and workable way. No hand-waving and warp drives for me unless they're grounded in some actual theories and research. So in developing my world, I've had to understand a number of things about the possibility of anti-gravity, propulsion systems for quick space flight, and even the bending of space time for warp drives in order to make interstellar flight even possible.
I've been reading all sorts of stuff, fitting together recent discoveries at the Large Hadron Collider with basic understanding of gravitational forces and magnetic propulsion systems. Richard Feynman and Frank Wilczek have been my gurus, and I've been peppering my science-minded friends with questions about spin, mass, and charge in order to develop a realistic and potentially workable theory of anti-gravity and propulsion.
Over the past few weeks I thought I had a brilliant idea about using energy to animate a special kind of matter or condensate. The matter would in turn either behave as though it had much greater mass and attract bodies to it in a way comparative to gravitational pull, or it would behave in the opposite way, pushing an anti-gravity force against the gravitational fields of other objects. This matter would then form the basis for both gravity systems on spaceships and as a propulsion system to navigate through space by pushing and pulling on nearby large interstellar bodies.
This was all a theory, until today.
While reading up on a science fiction writers' forum, I found evidence that my brilliant theory could work with some research that is actually currently being explored by Eagleworks Laboratories and NASA. Using vacuum particles and anti-particles that pop into and out of existence in the Quantum vacuum that occupies space-time, scientists theorize that they could develop a propulsion system that actually propels against the vacuum condensate itself.
I think that if I can extrapolate further, the theories on vacuum fluctuation density could be used as a gravitic force as I've theorized it. With the right energy levels, the density of the Bosons and virtual particles could become both an independent energy source, and enable manipulation of weak and strong force, giving us both means of both pushing and pulling matter against other matter.
What do you think?
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Enough with the Confessional Posts
Apparently drunk Sara vacillates wildly between agnostic and lost to disgustingly sentimental. But at least she's consistently confessional.
I really need to set up a block on Blogger that keeps me from posting under certain conditions. That would stop the rambling stream of consciousness postings that I keep delivering here.
So, my apologies. I'll try to limit the rambling confessional posts a bit. Maybe then I can come up with some actually interesting things to write about.
I really need to set up a block on Blogger that keeps me from posting under certain conditions. That would stop the rambling stream of consciousness postings that I keep delivering here.
So, my apologies. I'll try to limit the rambling confessional posts a bit. Maybe then I can come up with some actually interesting things to write about.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Marriage and Divorce
I don't know why I still keep a Facebook page. I guess it's part about some career options, part about keeping in touch with those I would never contact otherwise, and part voyeurism. I get to see some of how the other half lives, some of how the unlucky in love lives, and how some who have way too much in common with me lives....
Every time I hear about another friend getting divorced after 1 year, 3 years, 7 years, I think it will never happen to me. And yet, they seemed so happy. They made it work. When everyone said it would fall apart, they lasted. Until they didn't.
They married too young, I say. They didn't know each other. They were in love with the idea of being in love. They didn't plan for changes. They didn't know that it would take hard work. They didn't realize that people change and that they would change as much as their partner would, and not necessarily in the same direction.
And then I insist. It won't happen to me.
This month marks six years for me and my husband being together, almost two and a half married, beyond the full 15 for being friends. Every day that goes by I hear about another failed relationship, and I think "Hell no. Not mine." Because, I think, we know how to weather the hard stuff. We know how to face the difficult times. Hell, we've faced a lot of them, and we've emerged stronger.
We'll be better than that.
But I can't deny it. Every time I hear about the divorce of another couple that I thought was solid ... I panic a little bit. Every day, I think about how I can make my husband know that i love him. Every day, I wonder whether I'm taking advantage of the goodness I have in my life. Every day, I think that the mistake I've made will be something that will make me less in my friends', in my family's, and most of all in my husband's eyes. And I go through a moment of panic.
It's a right-brained person's mind, right? Every mistake is the last mistake. If I forget to vacuum because I was busy following my dreams of writing... If I forget to pack the bookshelves because I was making a too elaborate dinner that I ultimately burned and we now have to order pizza... If I forget to switch over the clothes and now he has no gym shorts to wear to the climbing gym ... As a right-brained person, it's all I can do to keep those things straight. It's also, simultaneously, all I can do to keep from assuming that my failure to meet those relatively tiny goals will result in ultimate discard. If I can't remember the barest things that keep a life functioning, why am I worth holding on to? The couch is covered in cat hair? I've failed. The chicken is undefrosted and we have to resort to Ramen and hotdogs? Failure as a wife....
And it's absurd to think it will get easier with children. They'll keep us up. They'll interfere with housework, dreams, with our work, social lives, our family life, and everything else we can imagine in our life right now. How does anyone think a marriage can survive that?
They do. Many marriages grow thinned, stressed, and unloved in the course of bringing children into the world. You can't blame them. It's completely understandable. Children are never less than a burden. They're exhausting. They're harder than anything we've ever faced before. Yet they're never less than a blessing, either.
I like to look at life objectively, since most of the time I live in a completely absurd fantasy world. (It's not my fault. I've tried to fight it. It's in my blood. I'm a writer. It's my job and my passion.) Children are hard on a marriage. If you are not completely sure of where you sit in your relationship., children will always make it harder.
But even if you are completely secure, children can screw everything up. Babies are hard work. Toddlers are more. Children, pre-teens, teenagers, and adults are so much worse. Why would you bring any of that into the world???
And stilll.... It's exactly what we do. Why?
In part because of faith.
I have faith that no matter what, we will be fine.
My husband is a wonderful man. ...
... (Well ... there goes two hours. :) )
I've literally spent two hours writing poetry, prose, and more about why my husband is amazing, and I realize all of it would be immediately dismissed by most of you and most others would refuse to acknowledge it altogether.
Let's suffice it to say, my husband is incredible.
As far as raising children goes:
I have utter faith that we will do our best to do right by them. We will read to them, give them encouragement in their imaginations and shut down anyone that tells them that fairies and unicorns and trolls can't exist.
We will raise them to be strong, creative, inquisitive, independent, resourceful, and imaginative.
Our children will never believe that the story ends at "The End." They will discover new ways for life to flourish, to extend beyond everything we have already prescribed. They will recognize that "Once Upon A Time" is merely an opening and a suggestion. They will know, much as their mother and father do, that "should" is recommendation, that "ought" is an arbitrary map point, and that "will" is meaningless until they exceed it.
That is what being a parent means to me. I married a man who supports all of that and more. He knows what imagination means, what dreaming can do, and what absurdity can conquer. Also, I'm pretty sure, until he sees our entire family fighting gravity on a regular basis and floating over the living room games, and debating the relative importance of projectiles in vacuumed space, and then using it against our perceived enemeies, he won't report us to the authorities. ;)
I love you, my darling. Thank you for letting me dream.
Sara
Every time I hear about another friend getting divorced after 1 year, 3 years, 7 years, I think it will never happen to me. And yet, they seemed so happy. They made it work. When everyone said it would fall apart, they lasted. Until they didn't.
They married too young, I say. They didn't know each other. They were in love with the idea of being in love. They didn't plan for changes. They didn't know that it would take hard work. They didn't realize that people change and that they would change as much as their partner would, and not necessarily in the same direction.
And then I insist. It won't happen to me.
This month marks six years for me and my husband being together, almost two and a half married, beyond the full 15 for being friends. Every day that goes by I hear about another failed relationship, and I think "Hell no. Not mine." Because, I think, we know how to weather the hard stuff. We know how to face the difficult times. Hell, we've faced a lot of them, and we've emerged stronger.
We'll be better than that.
But I can't deny it. Every time I hear about the divorce of another couple that I thought was solid ... I panic a little bit. Every day, I think about how I can make my husband know that i love him. Every day, I wonder whether I'm taking advantage of the goodness I have in my life. Every day, I think that the mistake I've made will be something that will make me less in my friends', in my family's, and most of all in my husband's eyes. And I go through a moment of panic.
It's a right-brained person's mind, right? Every mistake is the last mistake. If I forget to vacuum because I was busy following my dreams of writing... If I forget to pack the bookshelves because I was making a too elaborate dinner that I ultimately burned and we now have to order pizza... If I forget to switch over the clothes and now he has no gym shorts to wear to the climbing gym ... As a right-brained person, it's all I can do to keep those things straight. It's also, simultaneously, all I can do to keep from assuming that my failure to meet those relatively tiny goals will result in ultimate discard. If I can't remember the barest things that keep a life functioning, why am I worth holding on to? The couch is covered in cat hair? I've failed. The chicken is undefrosted and we have to resort to Ramen and hotdogs? Failure as a wife....
And it's absurd to think it will get easier with children. They'll keep us up. They'll interfere with housework, dreams, with our work, social lives, our family life, and everything else we can imagine in our life right now. How does anyone think a marriage can survive that?
They do. Many marriages grow thinned, stressed, and unloved in the course of bringing children into the world. You can't blame them. It's completely understandable. Children are never less than a burden. They're exhausting. They're harder than anything we've ever faced before. Yet they're never less than a blessing, either.
I like to look at life objectively, since most of the time I live in a completely absurd fantasy world. (It's not my fault. I've tried to fight it. It's in my blood. I'm a writer. It's my job and my passion.) Children are hard on a marriage. If you are not completely sure of where you sit in your relationship., children will always make it harder.
But even if you are completely secure, children can screw everything up. Babies are hard work. Toddlers are more. Children, pre-teens, teenagers, and adults are so much worse. Why would you bring any of that into the world???
And stilll.... It's exactly what we do. Why?
In part because of faith.
I have faith that no matter what, we will be fine.
My husband is a wonderful man. ...
... (Well ... there goes two hours. :) )
I've literally spent two hours writing poetry, prose, and more about why my husband is amazing, and I realize all of it would be immediately dismissed by most of you and most others would refuse to acknowledge it altogether.
Let's suffice it to say, my husband is incredible.
As far as raising children goes:
I have utter faith that we will do our best to do right by them. We will read to them, give them encouragement in their imaginations and shut down anyone that tells them that fairies and unicorns and trolls can't exist.
We will raise them to be strong, creative, inquisitive, independent, resourceful, and imaginative.
Our children will never believe that the story ends at "The End." They will discover new ways for life to flourish, to extend beyond everything we have already prescribed. They will recognize that "Once Upon A Time" is merely an opening and a suggestion. They will know, much as their mother and father do, that "should" is recommendation, that "ought" is an arbitrary map point, and that "will" is meaningless until they exceed it.
That is what being a parent means to me. I married a man who supports all of that and more. He knows what imagination means, what dreaming can do, and what absurdity can conquer. Also, I'm pretty sure, until he sees our entire family fighting gravity on a regular basis and floating over the living room games, and debating the relative importance of projectiles in vacuumed space, and then using it against our perceived enemeies, he won't report us to the authorities. ;)
I love you, my darling. Thank you for letting me dream.
Sara
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