#sci-fi novel

[t-lane-writes]

The Characters of The Specters

Allow me to introduce you to the main characters of The Specters, the story I’m working on now.

Characters make people interested in a story. Readers connect with characters and want to know what happens to them. With those characters they set out on an exciting journey, share hardships and joys.  

For a writer, characters are extensions of themselves. It is difficult to create a character that is fundamentally different from their author. Not impossible, but difficult. Then again, even if we make them extrovert instead of introvert, or a person of faith, while we are atheists, those characters still speak about some of our truths. Perhaps those we hide even before ourselves?

Those characters are a part of me, that’s for sure. I hope someday, some readers will connect with them as well.

Neve Kailash  

Neve is searching for her true identity. Orphaned as a baby, she never knew her parents and she believes, if she found them, it would give her clarity. She wields the power of elements, but her abilities were never officially validated. If not her origin, then perhaps her purpose could be her truth?

At the start of the story, Neve is a small caliber felon. As the story progresses, she becomes a catalyst of change for a few people who choose to help her – for their own, more or less selfish, reasons. Her life changes too. She finds friends, love and a new family she belongs to not because they share genetics, but because they share the same goals and principles.

Noel Anaher

Anaher is the Sovernguard Authority who decides to help Neve and officially validate her abilities. She reminds him of himself, when he was younger.

Anaher thinks he’s happy in his life. He has friends, high social status and a teenaged brother under his care, whom he loves very much. Obviously, something is missing, though, because he decides to risk it all, by helping Neve. Consequences are not what he expected — he doesn’t get punished by his superiors. Instead, he learns that his best friend was hiding an important part of her life from him, his brother runs away from home, and then Anaher has to take even bigger risk in order to avoid charges for endangering another teenager – his brother’s best friend.

Struggling with his deteriorating health, Anaher faces the danger. At least his old friends, as well as the new one – Neve – are by his side.

Emma Lee

Emma is Noel Anaher’s best friend. She is also the daughter of a man, who made history ten years ago – but not in a good way. He is seen as a bad person and an enemy of the state. And if everything people say about him is true, Emma should consider him evil as well. That’s why she tries her best to prove that all those tales are false – and she loses herself in that quest.

Anaher worries about her, so she starts to hide her research for him. That’s when Neve comes into the picture and Emma finds that some things from Neve’s – mysterious – past, seem connected with her father.

On her journey Emma has to learn that whoever her father was, does not define her. Her love for him, her fond memories of him, do not make her bad, even if he was bad. Or maybe he wasn’t? But that does not speak about who she is, either. Emma finds her identity alongside Neve – in her relationship with her friends, with the man she loves. And within herself.

Nersan Ziya

Nersan is the man Emma loves. And who loves her above all else. All he wants is her happiness. He wants to be happy with her, but a voice in his head keeps telling him he doesn’t deserve anything good. He’s a liar and a cheater and he is hiding a very important, and shameful, part of his past from everyone around him.  

As Anaher searches for his brother, Emma searches for the truth about her father, and Neve searches for her own truth, they come across Nersan’s secret. It nearly leads to their falling apart, but instead, friends choose to trust each other, because reaching their common goal depends on that trust.

In the end Nersan will realize how much he means to the people around him, and how much they respect him.

#.

Would you feel connected to any of those characters?

As I was writing this post, I realized that they are all a reflection of me, at this exact point in my life. I’m still looking for my identity, separate from my parents – mother mostly. I’m still afraid to express my needs, because I see them as less important than the needs of other people. Is it because I don’t think I deserve good things? That, I don’t know.

But whoever said that writing is therapy, was definitely right

(give me a like on WordPress )

[hawkinadovecote]

“my anger is not an entity that burns, like it does for so many others.

but it is just as devastating.”

- zoe hana mikuta

[iridescentalchemyst]

Favorite Book Review: Eon by Greg Bear

Daily writing promptWhat book could you read over and over again?View all responses I first read the book Eon by Greg Bear several years ago when I was serving 30 days at the Buchanan County Jail for a driving charge. It is an intriguing science fiction novel and I could not put it down once I started it! That’s the thing about jail… you have all the time in the world, and I typically chose to…

[gennsoup]

Give someone with nothing the slightest chance to shine, and she will gratefully trade her soul.

Ryka Aoki, Light from Uncommon Stars

[the-not-so-lowly-bookworm]

Murata writes a sad reality of abused outliers surrendering to fantasy. I entered this novel ecstatic about the potential of alien hedgehog plushies but all I was left with was trauma.

7/10

[lain-faustus88]

Traidor

Samuel es un niño de seis años abandonado por su madre y maltratado por su padre. Un día tiene un encuentro sangriento con un muchacho misterioso. Este chico, de nombre Kazemde, le dirá todo sobre él y su raza, los "salentios", que planean conquistar nuestro mundo.

Samuel y Kazemde se hacen inseparables, aun cuando los salentios se alimentan de humanos, y la invasión comienza. Pero lo que parecía ser el plan perfecto de los grandes conquistadores salentios, y una vida en calma para Samuel, se ve truncado, y los invasores huyen, dejando atrás a Samuel en un mundo donde, tanto ellos, como los humanos, ven al ni��o como un traidor.

Disponible en Wattpad 🙋🏻‍♀️✍️

(Imagen creada en #Picrew)

[prokopetz]

Contemporary Japanese light novels and classic American sci-fi are basically evil opposites when it comes to their titling conventions: both titles will be long and rambling, but the former will be a prosaically descriptive phrase that lays out the story's entire premise, while the latter will be a line from a poem the author liked that tells you absolutely fucking nothing.

[atomic-chronoscaph]

The War of the Worlds - art by Edward Gorey (1960)

[goodmotorfinger]

yes I'm writing a sci-fi novel why do you ask

[paullovescomics]

This concludes the Agent Cormac series.  AI spaceships, alien entities, huge plans and huge battles, robots with questionable sanity -- this series was very fun.  The last chapter could've been at least another book.  I respect stopping while you're ahead while also giving your character an epic ending.

[ekdarnellbooks]

Your alien lover is a virgin.

You’re the only human its ever met, so you have to teach it everything about your anatomy.

You take one of its tentacles and rub the appendage back and forth across your entrance as your alien lover writhes with pleasure.

Your pleasure is its pleasure and it lets out a groan as you penetrate yourself with a tentacle, using it like a sex toy.

Your alien lover gets overzealous, twisting its tentacle inside you until there’s no more room. You have to correct it, but its a quick learner.

Its tentacle pulses inside your dripping cunt as another stimulates your clit. Yet another slithers up your bare body, goosebumps prickling your skin, until it reaches your mouth and presses it way inside.

Your alien lover is probing you, exploring you from both ends as you both moan with pleasure.

When you climax, it climaxes, the orgasm undulating between you like a pendulum. It feels like it lasts an eternity, but when the waves subside to ripples your alien lover pulls you into its mass of tentacles. It holds you tight as sleep calls to you.

[sergeifyodorov]

when hockey players have hobbies outside hockey it's always like, pop songs on the acoustic guitar or the same video games they've been playing since juniors or cooking something slightly fancier than eggs. learn to knit for god's sake

[magnus-sm-writes]

Writing Excerpt

His insurance wouldn’t cover fingertip holomanips, even though without them, using his holo was nearly impossible. The world wasn’t made for people like him. He’s been aware of this since he was young and realized none of his classmates had as many doctor’s appointments as he did, that they didn’t have metal encasing their bones, later replaced by a complete metal skeleton. There was something different about him. Something wrong.

From my Unnamed Cybergrunge Project

[hezzabeth]

There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.

In a field where the paper daisies grow,

Underneath the sun's harsh glow,

I wander through, light and free.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The smoke coils in the sky far above,

But your petals still dance around me.

Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.

Everything lost will grow again.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The stars begin to rise,

My hands scooping your seeds.

Soon you will take flight

Towards the soft moonlight.

There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.

Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.

“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.

"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.

"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.

"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.

"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.

The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.

"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.

Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.

"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.

"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.

"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.

Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.

One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.

"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.

"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.

Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.

"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.

"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.

It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.

"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.

"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.

"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.

"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.

"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.

"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.

"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.

"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.

"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.

Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.

"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.

"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.

"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.

"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.

"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.

Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.

Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.

"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.

"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.

"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.

"You were sleeping with him."

"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.

"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.

"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.

"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.

"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.

"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.

"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.

"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.

Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.

"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.

"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.

"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.

"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.

"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.

"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.

"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.

The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.

"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.

Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.

"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.

Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.

"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.

"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.

"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.

"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.

"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.

Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.

"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.

"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.

"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.

Revati stared at him and shook her head.

"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.

"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.

"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.

"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.

"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.

"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.

"No," Revati said firmly.

"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.

"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.

"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.

"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.

[sahind]

INVINCIBLE (2021 -) - 2x04: It's Been a While

[checkoutmybookshelf]

I mean...this combination of depth and toilet humor is literally Shakespearean, so A+ for Eoin Colfer.