Ugh. Yes, I'm home early again tonight. Second night in a row. My next paycheck is not going to be good. Last night I didn't want to get caught in overtime, tonight I'm home because my stomach is fraggin' killing me. Naturally it started just as I got to work tonight and I tried to tough it out since I really need the money, but by lunch time I figured there was no reason why everyone else should have to suffer through this too. Oy. As JJ used to say, "Two exits, no waiting." Ugh. So now I'm eating crackers and drinking water since that's the only thing that I'm certain won't aggravate it. I need to eat. I haven't since about 9 AM this morning and 11 hours is pushing it even for me.

Last couple of days I've been freaking out because the absolute best name site on the web is gone. Not just moved, gone. Talk about a resource, there were decades of good character names on that site. I keep looking to see if it's been put back up but the entire domain is gone. So if you happen to know where Kate Monk's Onomastikon site has gone, let me know. I need that site.

Now I'll have to go back to using old phone books.

No word yet from Interzone or Far Sector.

I've been thinking off and on that I'd collect these short stories of mine into an anthology of sorts. "Sheperds", "Public Assistance", this story I want to start which will be titled "Signal to Noise" and that idea I had for the story of the young pilot who goes out alone to find a comet and bring it back to Mars for water to save his colony. The colony rebels against United Stars and refuses to pay their extortionist fees for water shipments from Europa. The kid goes out alone in his uncle's old cargo ship, but little does he know he's got more help than he thought when half the ship's robot crew turns out to be Artificially Intelligent. That idea actually has a title too, "Comet Catcher". What I'm trying to do is write stories like the old Golden Age stories, stuff that makes people want to go out there into space. Inspiring stories, I guess. Normal everyday kind of people in the future, living ordinary lives, who get involved in big things and big adventures. Trying to make it clear that someday it's not just going to be the Ph.Ds and the astronauts up there, it's going to be ordinary working class Joes hauling freight, digging ore, fixing broken things, trying to build a life for themselves -- only it's out there on Mars. What kind of dream is it when you tell a kid they've got to have fifteen years of college, sign your soul over to the military, be in perfect physical condition, and beat out thousands of other candidates before they can get into space? Is it any wonder no one wants to do it? It's nearly unobtainable.

I mean, sure, it's good to be doing science up there but who fixes the toilets? Whenever something goes wrong on a shuttle or the ISS, they have a team of engineers back on Earth to radio up how to fix it, or they fix it from the ground. When we have a fix-it guy up there who doesn't need the Earthside assistance, then we'll have a going concern.

We're not all geniuses. But as long as you have to be one to go into space it's not going to be a universal dream. So long as there's no place for the Average Joe up there, the Average Joe isn't going to get behind it.

So these stories are meant to redress that somewhat.

It's a thought, anyway.


Hippy Heirophants in Hoopy Hirsute Hullabaloos.