Leibnitz
I'm working on a cyberpunk sci-fi story set on and around the Santa Cruz Boardwalk not too far in the future called Leibnitz. Sex, supernaturalism, skateboarding, and Leibniz come into it. Aliens. Divination. Topology.
It turns out Leibnitz is really spelled Leibniz, if you want to be correct about it. There seems to be a Wikipedia entry spelled Leibnitz, which may be how I got off on the wrong track. At this point I feel comfortable using the "wrong" spelling. My method of writing employs a lot of alternate reality experimentation anyway. The eponymous character in Leibnitz really has very little to do with the German philosopher. I do plan to read Monadology and have the character Leibnitz speak in German periodically, quoting from the book. Interestingly, Leibniz wrote Monadology in French, and the version I'll be reading will be an English translation. My current plan is to run the English through the Google English-German translator for the German passages in the story, thereby returning Leibniz' original ideas to his native German by way of French and English.
Anyway, having fun with it. Here's a sample passage.
Winding [on skateboards] through the stretch of Miramar Drive that tilts beneath the mountains and above the ocean they arrive together at a mushroom joint open late run by aliens called Sea Fungi.
When their courses arrive, Tula observes, "I never know what these things are. I just like the colors."
She and Aston Martin are seated beside one another in a booth next to the wall. They can barely restrain from kissing and would never consider not touching while they eat. Great Granny O'Reilly [she's 150 years old] sips a cup of mushroom tea. A sort of mushroom salad is being shared by the ladies. The gentlemen have ordered an item called starfish steaks, the colors of which shimmer and shift as they broil in their hot dishes, and James Bond's Luger [it's a vaporizer] is shared around to everyone.
"Are these GMO?" Tula inquires of the alien waiter, who is dressed up as a leprechaun, presumably as a joke, but his costume is appropriate to his diminutive stature.
"Five grams psilocybin to the pound for the steaks, your Highnesses. The salad is completely natural and organic. A little of this and a little of that."
"The tea is delicious."
"Thank you."
"Reminds me of the dung tea we used to drink in the Old Country."
It turns out Leibnitz is really spelled Leibniz, if you want to be correct about it. There seems to be a Wikipedia entry spelled Leibnitz, which may be how I got off on the wrong track. At this point I feel comfortable using the "wrong" spelling. My method of writing employs a lot of alternate reality experimentation anyway. The eponymous character in Leibnitz really has very little to do with the German philosopher. I do plan to read Monadology and have the character Leibnitz speak in German periodically, quoting from the book. Interestingly, Leibniz wrote Monadology in French, and the version I'll be reading will be an English translation. My current plan is to run the English through the Google English-German translator for the German passages in the story, thereby returning Leibniz' original ideas to his native German by way of French and English.
Anyway, having fun with it. Here's a sample passage.
Winding [on skateboards] through the stretch of Miramar Drive that tilts beneath the mountains and above the ocean they arrive together at a mushroom joint open late run by aliens called Sea Fungi.
When their courses arrive, Tula observes, "I never know what these things are. I just like the colors."
She and Aston Martin are seated beside one another in a booth next to the wall. They can barely restrain from kissing and would never consider not touching while they eat. Great Granny O'Reilly [she's 150 years old] sips a cup of mushroom tea. A sort of mushroom salad is being shared by the ladies. The gentlemen have ordered an item called starfish steaks, the colors of which shimmer and shift as they broil in their hot dishes, and James Bond's Luger [it's a vaporizer] is shared around to everyone.
"Are these GMO?" Tula inquires of the alien waiter, who is dressed up as a leprechaun, presumably as a joke, but his costume is appropriate to his diminutive stature.
"Five grams psilocybin to the pound for the steaks, your Highnesses. The salad is completely natural and organic. A little of this and a little of that."
"The tea is delicious."
"Thank you."
"Reminds me of the dung tea we used to drink in the Old Country."
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