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This is how I would like preface to every sci fi story I write:

I’m convinced that three realities guide Humanity in the 21st Century. Solar systems composed of smaller rocky planets are as "ubiquitous" as stars. Poly extremophiles (ex. Deinococcus Radiodurans) guarantee that life exists across the Universe. Finally, the metaphor of Earth as the New Rome more accurately describes our life than the popular metaphor: Spaceship Earth. For, just as the Italian Peninsula could not hope to sustain Imperial Rome, Earth cannot possibly support its six billion human inhabitants. Only by opening our solar system to colonization and exploitation can we survive.

Additionally, I’ve noticed at recent writing conferences beards and gray hair dominate. Conversely, my daughters star at Chicago’s Comcon in costume (it helps that one resembles Katherine Heigl’s evil twin) and extol the virtues graphic series such as Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. Is the graphic novel the next step in writing? Blogging about the sunset of sci fi and fantasy in hard and soft back seems worthy, also.

Onto my excerpt from The Unnamed Sword. Gawaine Irby, a knight is shown his quests by Merlin:

Merlin studied Gawaine briefly, and then he beckoned the huge man to follow him. Merlin stopped at a large table with only one object resting on it, a glowing blue orb.
“Look at the crystal ball, son,” Merlin commanded, his voice abruptly huge and awesome rather than high-pitched and childish like the adolescent boy he appeared to be.
Gawaine looked. Inside the shimmering ball, he glimpsed a pallid young girl lying on a hospital bed. He blinked in confusion, and then he looked again. He recognized the girl. She was Elli, the girl he’d shot by mistake last April while on a gang mission for Dezz, and the one he secretly visited later. Unlike his last visit, however, Elli was conscious and talking with a well-dressed older woman.
“Girl’s name is Elli. She’s your quest,” Merlin said. “Am I right?”
Gawaine nodded dumbly.
“And you came to Camelot to help her?”
Gawaine reluctantly agreed again.
“Elli’s dying, Gawaine. In weeks, she’ll be dead. Only two ways the girl may be saved. One of them lies in Camelot’s wilderness. You must quest for the Silver Chalice.”
“A silver chalice?”
“Not a chalice, son. The Chalice. The goblet from which Jesus Christ drank at the Last Supper. A sip from the Chalice will save her.”
“Excuse me,” Liz interjected. “But, won’t the Chalice give her eternal life?”
Merlin smiled at Liz’ question as if he found it particularly amusing. “Not in this case, Liz,” he said, pronouncing each syllable slowly and distinctly. “As Elli’s dying, the Chalice only grants her the rest of her allotted life. But, Gawaine, you must be pure of soul to touch the Chalice. And, if you’re not, you must purify your soul through heroism or you won’t be permitted even to see it, much less touch it.”
“And, if I can’t,” protested Gawaine.
“There is another way, but it’s too difficult even for me to mention.”

Lots to talk about. I look forward to hearing from you

Ciao for now,

len

I agree with your "realities." So, from where does all this fantasy come? Who inspires you? When did it begin? What sort of writing ritual do you follow?

Welcome

Hurray. I figured out how to find myself. I began thinking I had fallen into the black hole of irrelevance.

Where does my fantasies come from? Much of my motivation for my Galatia series came from string theory. It still does. Most people don't understand that the underlying reality for the CERNE cyclotron in Switzerland, is proving string theory. If string theory is generally correct, there are more universes beyond the one we know. There may in fact be as many universes as nano seconds in time. Lots of story possibilities there.

Much of my inspiration comes from people I know. Pets are an influence, also.

When did my writing begin? Long ago and far far away.

What writing ritual do I follow. I write every morning on my projects. I usually blog in the evening. My younger daughter told my wife and me that we are inner tubers (we're on the internet our Mac laptops while we watch T.V.). When a question arises about an actor on the screen, we race to see who can goggle that actor first. I've done some of my best blogging while watching T.V.

I have heard some say that writing classes strip the spontaneousness from ones writing. How do you feel about that?

Writing classes give you the writing discipline and an audience. It's a good place to start. Still, the only way to learn to write is write. A brief example:

Years ago, I was at the Pacific Northwest Writer's Conference. On the Thursday afternoon bar, I was sitting with five other wannabees having beers and talking. Louie Lamour came to the table and sat down for a minute. "Two million words," he said to everyone at the table. "Write two million words and you'll be published." With that, he stood and walked to the next table.

So, do the writing classes and the two million words. Blogging is a great way to do that. Oh, and save what you write. You might have a story or article in your blog.

Len, I have read about your sci-fi books in a previous post and commented there. I like your writing style and your writing and your characters. You have given us some sound advice here: Saving stories and articles on blogs. Someday those could become a book or a collection of short stories. I think I'll save the few blogs I've done. Thanks.

Thank you and go for it.