I remember when I first read Stephen King’s The Stand. I was a senior in high school, and was captivated by the concept of how spirituality came into play with the survivors of a man-made apocalypse. Honestly, I still don’t know what amazed me more: that they brought about their own demise, or imagining what would happen if everything you knew fell apart and you had to start all over with a clean slate.
I think this is the true lure of apocalyptic fiction. People often describe it as a “safe space” for considering issues affecting humanity, exploring worst-case scenarios, and contemplating the consequences of our actions. All true, but I think there’s one more thing about it that draws readers in: it’s the ultimate “clean slate” that wipes away all you know and gives the world the biggest reset of all.
We do it often in life. It’s a series of beginnings, middles, and endings. Every ending is a new beginning, leaving us to carry forward into the unknown with nothing but ourselves and the wisdom we have. What if it weren’t personal? What if it were global? What’s next? There’s nothing like imagining what we would make of the ruins of a demolished world. Would we fight to bring it back, or start anew?
You can see how my take on what the apocalypse would mean has shifted over the past 12 years. If you read Splinter, you can see that I used to believe we would take advantage of opportunities to evolve and do better as a species. I wrote that novel during National Novel Writing Month in 2010, after a major job transition and a struggle with tendinitis in my right wrist that stopped me from writing for six months. I acknowledged that there are negative forces out there, but you can choose to embrace possibility. I believed that humanity would do that.
Then COVID happened, and I saw how humanity really reacted in the face of life-altering circumstances. I learned that I was wrong.
If you read Singularity, then you see my perspective shift. We talked about a “new normal” throughout the COVID pandemic, and then fought tooth and nail to bring back the same old “comfortable” things. So it is in Singularity. They were tired of scratching by and turned to their AI to speed up the recovery process, despite mounting evidence that this “comfort” was a lie and probably the cause of their problems in the first place. Exhibit 1 – the rejection of working from home. In 5 years, we’ve gone from “more productivity with a work-life balance” to “we aren’t effective unless we’re forced to leave home and collaborate.” I suspect it has more to do with control issues, but that’s another blog – for now, I’ll settle for using it as an example of how we did not walk the talk. We did not take control of our healing. We handed it over, letting the worst-case scenarios without the self-discipline to handle that freedom control the narrative, and we are back to where we were in 2019.
We learned nothing.
My mother recently told me that my grandfather’s older sister, who was a teacher, failed a student because he wasn’t making an effort. Failing students is no longer allowed, at least in my district school system. That generation lived through the Great Depression and two world wars. My grandfather and great aunt (and all of their siblings) lost their mother to the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1919. This generation has survived a pandemic, argued over the scientific breakthrough of a vaccine, wiped out the moderates and all concepts of "middle ground" in the face of extremist opinions, and literally kills people over social and political opinions. You tell me who evolved.
Perhaps this is a harsh perspective. I realize this is a divisive opinion, but I stand by it. I had a boss who used to say, "try harder.” I respected that because I witnessed countless episodes of people stepping up and overcoming their “impossible odds” to get what they truly want. I do believe that we, as a society, should try harder.
I’ve been told to “dummy down,” but I refused, because I believe people are capable of understanding, doing, and being better.
I’ve been told to settle down and “accept reality,” but I refuse because I believe that limitations are in our minds, and we can achieve our purpose if we are bold enough to pursue it.
I’ve been told not to “rock the boat,” but rocked it anyway because I saw a storm coming, and was willing to allow “tomorrow me” to benefit from having a few waves propel me to a safe shore in a right direction, instead of capsizing in a storm.
I’ve been told that I’m an idealist, which is true of all sci-fi fans. We believe the potential to evolve is within us, if we put forth the effort to pursue it. I have changed my mind before, and would welcome changing it again. In fact, I beg you, please prove me wrong! If you don’t agree, then go ahead and comment. I could use some good examples to encourage me this week. In the end, I think that both novels come to the same conclusion: we can learn and grow from our mistakes, and find better ways to live our best life no matter what we face.
That’s all today. Take care, and have a great week.
Bye!
I think this is the true lure of apocalyptic fiction. People often describe it as a “safe space” for considering issues affecting humanity, exploring worst-case scenarios, and contemplating the consequences of our actions. All true, but I think there’s one more thing about it that draws readers in: it’s the ultimate “clean slate” that wipes away all you know and gives the world the biggest reset of all.
We do it often in life. It’s a series of beginnings, middles, and endings. Every ending is a new beginning, leaving us to carry forward into the unknown with nothing but ourselves and the wisdom we have. What if it weren’t personal? What if it were global? What’s next? There’s nothing like imagining what we would make of the ruins of a demolished world. Would we fight to bring it back, or start anew?
You can see how my take on what the apocalypse would mean has shifted over the past 12 years. If you read Splinter, you can see that I used to believe we would take advantage of opportunities to evolve and do better as a species. I wrote that novel during National Novel Writing Month in 2010, after a major job transition and a struggle with tendinitis in my right wrist that stopped me from writing for six months. I acknowledged that there are negative forces out there, but you can choose to embrace possibility. I believed that humanity would do that.
Then COVID happened, and I saw how humanity really reacted in the face of life-altering circumstances. I learned that I was wrong.
If you read Singularity, then you see my perspective shift. We talked about a “new normal” throughout the COVID pandemic, and then fought tooth and nail to bring back the same old “comfortable” things. So it is in Singularity. They were tired of scratching by and turned to their AI to speed up the recovery process, despite mounting evidence that this “comfort” was a lie and probably the cause of their problems in the first place. Exhibit 1 – the rejection of working from home. In 5 years, we’ve gone from “more productivity with a work-life balance” to “we aren’t effective unless we’re forced to leave home and collaborate.” I suspect it has more to do with control issues, but that’s another blog – for now, I’ll settle for using it as an example of how we did not walk the talk. We did not take control of our healing. We handed it over, letting the worst-case scenarios without the self-discipline to handle that freedom control the narrative, and we are back to where we were in 2019.
We learned nothing.
My mother recently told me that my grandfather’s older sister, who was a teacher, failed a student because he wasn’t making an effort. Failing students is no longer allowed, at least in my district school system. That generation lived through the Great Depression and two world wars. My grandfather and great aunt (and all of their siblings) lost their mother to the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1919. This generation has survived a pandemic, argued over the scientific breakthrough of a vaccine, wiped out the moderates and all concepts of "middle ground" in the face of extremist opinions, and literally kills people over social and political opinions. You tell me who evolved.
Perhaps this is a harsh perspective. I realize this is a divisive opinion, but I stand by it. I had a boss who used to say, "try harder.” I respected that because I witnessed countless episodes of people stepping up and overcoming their “impossible odds” to get what they truly want. I do believe that we, as a society, should try harder.
I’ve been told to “dummy down,” but I refused, because I believe people are capable of understanding, doing, and being better.
I’ve been told to settle down and “accept reality,” but I refuse because I believe that limitations are in our minds, and we can achieve our purpose if we are bold enough to pursue it.
I’ve been told not to “rock the boat,” but rocked it anyway because I saw a storm coming, and was willing to allow “tomorrow me” to benefit from having a few waves propel me to a safe shore in a right direction, instead of capsizing in a storm.
I’ve been told that I’m an idealist, which is true of all sci-fi fans. We believe the potential to evolve is within us, if we put forth the effort to pursue it. I have changed my mind before, and would welcome changing it again. In fact, I beg you, please prove me wrong! If you don’t agree, then go ahead and comment. I could use some good examples to encourage me this week. In the end, I think that both novels come to the same conclusion: we can learn and grow from our mistakes, and find better ways to live our best life no matter what we face.
That’s all today. Take care, and have a great week.
Bye!
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