Retrospective

       I used to wonder about when I became a geek. I've always loved reading, both fantasy and sci-fi, as far back as I can remember; longer according to the various accounts. I never quite follow the status quo, never have. My definition of normal was frequently different from any around me. But when did such behavior, and thought patterns begin to diverge?

       Perhaps it was during the times I would watch old reruns of Star Trek: TOS with my Dad. Was it at that stage in my formative years of the early 80's? Seated on our couch, asking my Dad questions about Spock's ears, did those times kindle the love for outer space that burns to this day? Watching sleek spaceships speed across the galaxy, and unworldly creatures parading across the screen, did my 5 yr old mind decide this world was not only plausible, but desirable?

       Or perchance, whilst learning to read with my Mom, did my mind cling to far of realms? Did witches, fairies, unicorns, and dragons dance though my daydreams? My mother was learning to read English, so from the time I was 4 we spent days at the local Library. I've been told, by the Librarian, that I read every single children's book on shelf. Though at the time, the place that nurtured my hunger for stories, was only two small rooms on the side of the Firehouse. Four short shelves were devoted to elementary aged children. Understandably, I began to devour books for older children, and my reading skills flourished. At a garage sale I stumbled across Dragonsong by Anne McCaffrey. Little did I know that this trilogy about myth and magic, would take me again on a path to the stars.

       Yet, was it really during those early years that I began me development path into geekhood? Maybe it goes further back. As an infant, my parents took me to the downtown district of Fort Worth, just for a stroll. My Mom held me and posed on the corner of 3rd and Main, my Dad took a picture, just as my little head tilts away. Knowing the layout of the land, and which way my eyes were directed, it appears I was gazing up Main, presumably with this view. 

       At the end of a cobbled road, sits a sleek metallic structure. Tall, thin pillars support the vast saucer shaped object. Barely visible etchings line the creation's edge, dividing the upper silvery side from the beige underbelly. Placed at equidistant points, small orbs extending on a wire, waver up and down. At the very crest of the thing, a small platform rests, with windows encircling the lower surface. People come and go, through portals situated underneath, busy with dealings on behave of those from within.

       On one hand, it may be that exposure to such a unique situation, was the tipping point for my geeky mind. On the other hand, multiple events over a period of time may have slowly trained my mind to this path. On the gripping hand, it is probable that I'm looking for a word other than geek. I think and feel the way I do, because such is my personality.

Now upon a tine.

I've been meaning to do this for some time. Back in mid-spring I could tell I was approaching a fork in the road, so to speak. Normally I dawdle, hem and haw, and drag my feet when it comes to decisions. Except for this time. As I saw the fork approaching, and I made the decision before I got there. The result? Ever since then my priority has been doing what God would rather have me do. Thus I've been busy doing everything else first, with negligible time for my writing, and thats ok. Of the two main projects, and the two side projects, three were just for me, and one was for God.

You may be asking yourself, How could my God be so selfish as to demand that a writer put aside her craft and do anything else?

First off, because he gave up his only Son to die, specifically because of the things I've done, for the off-chance that I'd not only recognize his gift for me, but that I'd accept said gift.

Secondly, because he didn't ask me to put aside something I enjoy for something I hate. I put aside my writing, which I didn't do 8 hrs a day, to do other things I enjoy. My church has been through a rough patch during the past 4 years. One of the symptoms of the problem, we no longer had the funds nor ability to put together a VBS. This year we were once again able to do so. Mid spring a good friend of mine asked her if I'd help her out with the small area she was responsible. I'd helped in years past, was familiar with what was required, was able, and wiling. So I dug in, knowing I'd be handling the lion share, under her direction. Why was I handling most of the work, because my friend is getting married in Oct, secretary of our church, helping with translation work for some French Missionaries, helping her brother with his website, helping her other brother with more translation work, helping with the typesetting of the Samoan Bible, the Tagalog Bible, and consulting on a handful of other small projects. In other words, chika muy busy. Eventually, she handed the rings over to me, which I didn't mind one bit. Oh, also forgot to mention, she'll be teaching typesetting1 and 2, starting in September.

Thirdly, as I previously mentioned, I didn't spend all day, everyday writing to begin with. One of my side projects is in collaboration with another individual who is going through college. Understandably, he's got other things on his mind. Project # 3 was spurred by a series of short writing prompts that just fell into place as a story about alien invasion. I do absolutely no prep work on it. An image shows up, then characters, plot, locations, and dialogue seem to appear in my word doc. This venture comes in flashes, and is over and done in under an hour; frequently in a matter of minutes. My second writing passion is my part in the Niners Shared Universe, aka the Ninerverse. A few writers from the io9 observationdeck got together and put together this scifi epic, it has time travel, space travel, cyberspies, military security types, generation ships, teraforming, and space pirates. My part, The Adventures of the Scarlet Slash involve the life of a young woman who finds herself between a plethora of plots to take over the known, and unknown universe. When the antagonist uses the rules to tilt the balance of power in his direction, she breaks them with every trick in her bag. I have fun with this story, My protagonist is a character who's personal motto is "Cut me and I'll cut you back. I'll also do something else, but where's the fun in telling you what?" Her story flows like water from a spring. If I took the time to sit down and knock it out, I could probably get 3 or 4 more chapters in a day or two. However, her story is only part of a larger plot, and I don't want to steal others thunder by saving the day in her arc, before you know just who it is she is saving. So I set it aside, and will probably get back to it soon enough. The last project, the one that gets the majority of my time, effort, and thoughts, is City of Walls. This one is my pride and joy, yet while Scarlet flows quickly like water, this story has by very blood, sweat and tears. For all that I love this story, it treats me like a red-headed step-child. We come to blows, and I feel like I'm flailing against a wall. I stumble against writers block, and when I ask for help or feedback, I get responses for the Scarlet Slash. I know the Ninerverse tale is the most exciting, but the account of Tara Harris is one that I've been working on slowly for almost 15 years. Critical moments, characters, the ending, and beginning is what I started out with. Currently I have fleshed out the beginning, introduced all the characters, except for two, and hit one of the five major moments of the story. I try to make this one as hard on the science as I can. Interestingly, a few of the concepts that I figured were near future breakthroughs have been achieved, or are on the edge of accomplishment.

Now I find myself in a bit of a conundrum. There is no fork in the road, nor a spoon, yet all the other tasks that have been taking my time seem to be complete. VBS is done. I'm not needed to help with many of the ministries at church any more. My yard is now presentable, since my garden is complete. I have time again.

So, should I then prepare myself to do battle with my worthy opponent? I consider this essay, which sits just above 1000 words, a warm up.

Yes Virginia, there will be stories.

Nine Players on the Field

          I like the idea of being a weapon. Slick curves and sharp edges sound like the best way to describe me. And Daddy's boy Horace, yup I had intended to use him as a shield. If he wasn't willing I'd have used him as a human shield, but the cards seem to be stacked in my favor; the metaphor will only be figurative. I showed the kid a blocking stance that would easily let him slice his attacker given the opportunity.

          "I don't like fighting dirty, and this move would have me stabbing  someone in the back!" Horace mimed the cut in thin air.

          "Kid, this isn't some prize fight you're prepping for. Someone is trying to take your life, you either stop them or let them. Later you'll get shown some moves to use when you need to stop an opponent before the fight even starts. But for now, just focus on staying alive." I placed his knife back in his hand and back away. Horace returned to his practicing and Geoffrey steps over to my left side.

          "I take it you feel he'll be utilizing his education soon?" From some unseen pocket a pair of leather fingerless gloves find themselves at home on his hands. He tightens his hands into fists, and the leather groans in protest.

          "There's a chance some unwanted guests attempt boarding the vessel. The possibility is a small one, yet I would rather he be prepared." I pulled the small package from the side pocket of my pressure suit. "Amy tells me you want me to have this?"

          "Yes. Don't open it yet. It is an object of special consequence." He folded his arms behind him, in a posture reminiscent of a skilled martial practitioner.

          "So......You gonna make me wheedle it out of you?" I cock my head and eyebrow at him.

          A sly smile slowly creeps across his face. "In due time, Ms Sinmoral. For now, I believe you have other matters to attend to."

          The old gent is right. I need to get into character, and narrow down the playlist. With a nod, I leave the gym and had to my quarters.

          I check my guitar then put on my stage costume. I've got my Slash clothes on; red and black cotton trousers, red silk shirt, black satin vest, my black cowboy boots are low heeled, the details stitched in red. I twist one small black bandanna and tie it around my right bicep, another gets tied in a French Knot around my neck to hide the scar. For tonight, my long raven hair will hang down unadorned. Instead of the usual duster, a long robe will be draped on top of everything else. I've also got a long fluffy boa, after all the show is being performed by Starla Sky, lead singer of Cloud Nine, and not by the Scarlet Slash. Man am I gonna be sweaty by the end of the night.

*                  *                  *

          Sitting around the table at the opulent dining hall were Marla, Jean-Pierre, Ralph, May, June, Mad Max, and Sven, the navigator. The last time Sven stepped off ship was a little more than a year ago, for a thrice cursed job. He's my little good luck charm, and he hates it. He knows that when he rides along, there's a chance he won't feel the weightlessness of space again. Dr. Taun, April, and Trevor are on ship, prepping surgery and keeping the engine hot.

          "I don't like this. Why do you even need me here?" Sven's high pitched voice reached up another decibel on the last word.

          "Shut up Sven." The routine reply voiced by everyone at the table, except for the new girls.

          "I'm just saying, I'm no good here. I read star charts! I'm a Navigator, not a fighter! I'm gonna die, I just know it." The blond, 7 ft, gangly Swede smacked his forehead on the placemat in front of him.

          "Relax m'bucko. Have I let you die yet?" I wave a waiter over.

          "No Ma'am." The reluctant counter was heard clearly, despite being said into the tabletop.

          "Good acoustics here." May notices.

          "Bring my a line so I can ring the host and tell him to accept one more for our party." I order the waiter. With my back to the entrance, I can't see anything, but May and June can. As the waiter dashes off to find a commline, They begin to alternate a play by play of the scene behind me.

          "A man with plaid green pearl snap shirt, and tight orange jeans tucked into black boots trimmed in yellow has just entered the foyer." May started.

          June added, "He's hanging up a wide brimmed, low sloped straw cowboy hat. He's addressing the host."

          "Technicolor cowboy is reaching into his turquoise vest, and pulling out what appears to be a holoID, and ribons?" May turned to June.

          "Military emblem perhaps?" June carried on with the report. "The host isn't moving a muscle. Our guest has returned his credentials to their pocket, and is shaking a finger at the host.

          A voice carries easily to our ears, above the din of other patrons "Von Tummy, Maximillian Von Tummy. I'm expected a message from some very important people."

          Just then our waiter returns, and with flourish, places a simple commlink in front of me. Detaching only the mic, I begin. "Tell the vibrant fellow in front of you, that you have his message. He is to join the table of Starla Sky and company." Without waiting for a response, I close the unit and hold it up for the waiter to whisk away. May begins to relate the events at the entrance of the main hall, but I hold up my hand. "There's no need darling, he'll be here in a moment."

          Shortly the voice of our last member approaches.

          "That's what I thought. I hate to do it, but a man has got to flex his might if he wants to have anything done. You don't need to worry, I won't turn your name into the debt collectors. Next time," just as he was being seated at our table, "next time better be different."

          "Hello, Von Tum, I do hope you don't mind me calling you that."

          His eyes twinkle as he smiles at me. "Of course Shelia, you can call me anything, just call me."

City of Walls:Ch 15

         

 *Just an FYI-unusual opinions at play here. More note after story in order to avoid spoilers. also no footnotes today, maybe I'll add them later.

          Upon finding my old bot, parts, and tools, Sonj and I got to work. After 30 min. of silence she spoke up.

          "So..."

          "What?" I put my soldering iron back on the holder.

          "You never did say," She continued typing code on her holopad, "are you a Christian, like those people who left the city?"

          "Well," I could feel my brow wrinkle, "kinda, I guess."

          ""What do you mean, I guess? How can you not know if you've joined a cult or not"? Sonj minimized her work, and turned to face me.

          "First off, I didn't join anything. Second, they were not a cult. We talked about things." I turned and leaned my hip against the workbench. "Do I believe in God, yes. But I still have questions. I don't even know why there are so many different churches."

          "Does it matter?" Sonj stopped typing and looked over her shoulder at me.

          "I dunno, maybe." I haven't been to mass since I moved to Russia. "Look, as far as Christianity goes, I'm just looking for answers. I doubt anyone is going to be hunting me down."

          "Is that what happened to the others?" Now she turned her whole body, her eyes stern, one hand on the work bench.

          "I honestly have no idea. I know one family went to jail; that could be why others felt the need to leave town."

          "Alright so, you believe there is a god." Her shoulders lowered slightly. "What's that got to do with your life?"

          "God isn't some distant thing that remotely interacts with you. It's incredibly personal. I don't just believe in God, I believe Jesus Christ was his Son, and that not only did he die for me, but he came back from the dead for me." Sonj began to say something, but I held my hand up. "I know it sounds crazy, and I'm not even asking you to understand. Right now I'm not asking anything of you."

          "You asked me to watch my mouth."

          "I have never liked foul language. You know, even though we've been friends for a while, this is the most time we've spent together outside of work." I picked up the soldering iron and continued with the seam I had been working on. Sonj resumed typing out the code that would give the bot flexible search parameters to find either the modrpunks or Seraph.

          "Huh, we don't know all that much about each other do we?" She asked.

          We began exchanging stories from our youth. The next two hours were filled with tales of exploding rockets, hacking government sites, snow in Moscow, snow in Chicago, family, friends, parties, and dating.

          Sonj had finished tweaking the code long ago, and sat on a chair still wrapped in plastic cling. "Oh man, you're serious aren't you?"

          "Yup." I finished bolting the plate that covered the bot's internal wiring.

          "But," She burst into laughter for a few more seconds, "how could you think he had an actual rocket for you to see? I mean that line..." By now tears were attending her fit of glee.

          "I was in the university's rocket club, and I'd seen him on campus at one of the meetings. It made sense to me that he also had an interest in achieving planetary orbit through explosive means."Sonj let out a belly laugh at my phrasing. "It turned out that he usually got one date with that line. Apparently the other girls in The Rocketeers were somewhat desperate." I initiated the diagnostic program on the bot, then sat on the other chair Sonj had scrounged up after compiling her work.

          "Oh my..." She wiped her eyes clear. "But you weren't desperate enough to join him for an out of this world experience? Hehe" She sighed, breath slowing in an attempt at composure.

          "I never had much interest in dating guys."

          "Well that kinda limits who you can date."

          "Yeah, it does. After that failed experiment I should just say I'm not interested in dating period."

          "You exp..." Sonj's eyebrows popped up. "Oh you mean you really experimented? But I thought."

          "It was two years ago, and my experience with Anya was no different than with any other guy." I stood up and reached into a box behind my chair. I pulled a small wooden box, much like the one in my hidey hole, and sat back down. Once the lid was removed, two rows of precious gems and crystals could be seen. I picked up a diamond and attached it to the bracelet on my left wrist, then set the box on the floor.

          "All through high school I dated a few guys here, or there." A snap of my fingers opened my holopad to the image directory. I scrolled though pictures of myself standing next to various boys in a variety of settings. "I usually had a good time with most of these guys, but whenever the date came to an end, well. I mean, if I was having a good time hanging out and doing stuff; then shouldn't I have enjoyed doing stuff with at least one of those guys."

          "Sometimes there's just no chemistry. One or two dates is hard to tell. Most people don't put out on the first date." Sonj tapped my holopad. "I don't see one face repeated very often. Looks like a lot of one timers."

          "When I was younger I didn't date seriously." I flicked my fingers across the hovering images, flying past the represented years. I stopped at a picture of a young man in a t-shirt and jeans, seated on a bench next to me, also casually attired. "This is Dmitry, possibly the closest thing to my first love."

          "Still have no idea how this leads to a Anya." Sonj interrupted.

          "I'm getting there!" I said as I smacked her shoulder. "As I was saying before being rudely interrupted. I've known him since I moved to Russia; he was the Gulf's nephew. We were friends right from the start, and we were as thick as thieves. One day, after complaining about another bad date, he asked me if the problem was the guys I was choosing. I asked what he meant, and he said that none of those guys were people I spent time with to just have fun. Then he kissed me."

          "Aww, I bet you were as giddy as a little school girl."

          "Nope, I was just confused. He was embarrassed. But we started dating. Dmitry is very special to me, but anytime things got physical, I just felt awkward and frustrated. After a year, we broke things off. He thought I didn't feel anything more than friendship for him. But I cared very strongly for him, and his touch didn't repulse me. I just wasn't aroused by him. After that I didn't date again through the rest of school, or the first few months at Moscow either."

          "Which leads us to Nikolay and his marvelous member." Sonj quirked her eyebrow.

          "Thankfully, he wasn't a jerk, just very...odd." I flicked more pictures by, these featuring a girl with raven tresses. "He took me home, and apologized for the mix-up. But after that night, I began to think. He thought his intentions were obvious, even you said the line was blatant." I selected a pic of us, sitting at a picnic table, along with a few other girls.

          "Anya looks like a pretty little thing." Sonj said as she gazed at the short haired, green eyed, dimpled creature. "If nothing else, all these pics prove you have good taste."

          "I guess, but it feels like everyone of them chose me, not the other way around. I went to a few of the GL meet-ups, mainly to ask questions. Anya was the first person I met. My question sessions led to dinner, then more." I paused, groping for words, unsure how to approach my last relationship.

          "Did you love her?" Sonj injected into the silence.

          "No. I liked her about as much as any of the other guys I dated when I was younger." I snapped my fingers twice, closing the photo gallery. "There was nothing special there. Not even the awkwardness I felt before. We didn't see each other for long. After two months she thought I was in denial. But I don't think that was the problem." I picked up the wooden case from the floor.

          "Are you sure, Tara? Are you gonna give up on dat..."

          "Give up on dating, yes." I cut off the rest of her sentence. "Wanna hear an old joke I heard in my Chem lab?"

          "No I don't want."

          "What is an acceptable demonstration of insanity?" I interrupted Sonj again. "Its performing the same experiment repeatedly, and expecting a different outcome. All I did was change one variable, nothing else, and got the same results. I don't like, or enjoy doing those kinds of things, with anyone. Dmitry was the only break up that hurt me. But even him, if he were to come back to me now, I don't think I could even enjoy kissing him, let alone... Never mind." I detached the diamond from my wrist and returned it to its place, then stood up and left the case on the chair. "It doesn't matter because he has his own life in Moscow." I walked over to the work table, glancing at the small timestamp projected above the bot's access panel.

          "Sorry, I didn't think this bothered you so much." Sonj placed a hand on my left shoulder. I turned to face her. "I'll leave it alone, and promise to stop trying to get you to date." Her lips twisted into a sly half smile. "I'll just get you three cats, and tell you about my aunt Density."

          My eyebrows rose. "Density? You have got to making that up."

          "Her mother liked the name Destiny, but wanted something different." Her hand fell from my shoulder. "So how much longer do we need to wait for your little robot?"

          "Looks like we got less than five minutes. How about we start clearing up all this stuff." I said as I motioned to the chairs and worktable.

          "Alright." Sonj said as she began picking up tools and returning them to their proper package. I walked over to the chairs, picked up the wooden case and began to close it. Before the lid snapped shut, the light of the room gleamed off the jade stone I stored all my i-reads. All those romance stories, did they just fill my head with nonsense? Is it truly unrealistic to actually yearn for a caress of the cheek? Or a tender kiss? Am I not so odd for feeling the way that I did, back then? How can I ever know?

*Author's note.

My own personal opinions are not displayed here. I tried keeping the character from certain decisions, but Tara has a mind of her own. Personally, I believe homosexuality is a sin. Do I believe Gay people are vile, horrible monsters? No. There are just people, like you, or me; who is, by the way, a sinner as well. 

Feel free to and tell me how you feel about this; whether  or not I handled it well, as well as your opinions on my personal point of view.