A brief thought about the worth of a life (in space!)
A Microstory
Today I want to start with a microstory. A sci-fi microstory, of course. Science fiction is what brought us together after all, right? So, here I go.
A man is on his way to the moon in a rocket.
I know, I know. What a cliché. And sexist on top if it. Why not a woman? Can’t women go to the moon? Sure, yes, I know. Sorry for my insensitive, lazy story telling. But man or woman, that’s not the point of the story. So just bear with me, all right?
So here comes a micrometeorite and plucks a hole through the hull. Decompression sirens go off, red blinking lights, the whole shebang. The man, who was resting, sits bolt upright from the sudden fright and hits his scalp with a protruding, uh, science thingy. Thick, red, spherical droplets begin to swarm in alarming abundance around his head, quickly obscuring his sight. He tries to wave the blood away with his hand, but it only makes the droplets smaller and spreads them wider. By the time he finally reaches the tiny hole and he loses consciousness.
Now, what have you felt? Probably not much, right? You were probably more concerned with what was going to happen next, the plot, than with the fate of the poor bastard. And the story sucks. So, yeah.
But, let’s make an experiment now. Say the story is not quite over, and let me add a couple more lines. Here I go.
“I don’t want to go to sleep, mommy! Not without daddy’s goodnight story!”
“Oh, okay, hon, but if NASA doesn’t relay his call in the next five minutes, you are turning the light right off, young lady.”
“Why is he taking so long?” The little girl raises her large pupils at her mother. “You think he forgot about me?”
So, what is your take now? Where would you take this microstory now? Perhaps it would be better that the man doesn’t die, right? I mean, there are actual people that love him, so that makes him somehow… valuable?
These microstories, the original and the extended version, make me think about the value of human life. How would you value it? I don’t mean in economic terms, I mean in this sense that you feel that somebody’s death is more or less of a pity, if you know where I’m coming from?
A stranger dies alone in bed, leaving no family behind. No friends visit his tomb.
You might pity him (or her, I know!), but if you truly look inside your feelings, it is his loneliness that you pity, not his life. His life is worthless.
The oldest woman on Earth, Akari Watanabe, dies at the age of 115, surrounded by her loved ones, going down several generations. This Japanese matriarch has meaningfully touched hundreds of lives in her hard, long quest through life.
Now, that woman is worthy, right? But why? She has achieved something important, but what is it? Try to put in as few words as possible, and feel free to comment with your thoughts.
What am I reading?
My bedtime reading is at this moment, The Carpet Makers. Heartily recommended by my brother while he was beta testing The Advent of Dreamtech. I finally got to it, because sadly I must spend most of my reading time with non-fiction books about marketing for authors *insert puke emoji here*. But be grateful—I am!—it is thanks to them that you can ultimately read my work.
What are YOU reading?
Terry is reading The Clockwork Chimera Series series (fantastic humor and great story line, he claims). Rob recommends “The Chronicles Of The Collapse” by Robert E Taylor, although he is frustrated that the author seems to have gone AWOL. And B. (sorry, I don’t know his/her name) fave of all times is a relatively recent novel: To Sleep in a Sea of Stars.
Feel free to comment with your current/recent readings, but ONLY if you are really enjoying it, please! I want to share only decent recommendations.
What am I working on?
I’m still heavily revising “The Second Wake” (Episode IV of Dreamworms). It’s a tough nut, because this is the episode of the entire Book 2 that more work requires, but I’m over the equator already, yeah!
Here a little random snippet copy-pasted from Chapter 29 “The Eye of Goah”, to tease your appetite (unedited, so remain tolerant!):
“I am so selfish!” Marjolein shakes her head in exaggerated regret, her wild, blonde braids shaking in the air. “I wanted our trade to flourish. Oh, Goah, I am sorry. Our steel,” she points at a few individuals dressed in fine tunics, heads down, eyes shut, nodding and mumbling. “Our fish,” she points at a broader indeterminate section of her audience. “More visitors—more merchants—more dowries. Goah, I am so selfish. Heresy was spreading in the shadows, and my arrogance made me… blind. Demons were plotting to ruin our legacy. And I was too proud to see. Too—hopeful, Goah has Mercy. I was blinded by my love, my ambition for our colony: a prosperous future, thriving under Goah’s Blessing. Alas, under my careless vigilance, evil brooded. And now our name is synonymous with blasphemy. I am so sorry, Lunteren.” Her head sinks. A tear—an honest to Goah real tear—runs down her cheek. “I failed you.”
That’s all I have for you today. Happy out-of-this-world reading!
—Isaac, logging out
https://isaacpetrov.com/sign-up/
Today I want to start with a microstory. A sci-fi microstory, of course. Science fiction is what brought us together after all, right? So, here I go.
A man is on his way to the moon in a rocket.
I know, I know. What a cliché. And sexist on top if it. Why not a woman? Can’t women go to the moon? Sure, yes, I know. Sorry for my insensitive, lazy story telling. But man or woman, that’s not the point of the story. So just bear with me, all right?
So here comes a micrometeorite and plucks a hole through the hull. Decompression sirens go off, red blinking lights, the whole shebang. The man, who was resting, sits bolt upright from the sudden fright and hits his scalp with a protruding, uh, science thingy. Thick, red, spherical droplets begin to swarm in alarming abundance around his head, quickly obscuring his sight. He tries to wave the blood away with his hand, but it only makes the droplets smaller and spreads them wider. By the time he finally reaches the tiny hole and he loses consciousness.
Now, what have you felt? Probably not much, right? You were probably more concerned with what was going to happen next, the plot, than with the fate of the poor bastard. And the story sucks. So, yeah.
But, let’s make an experiment now. Say the story is not quite over, and let me add a couple more lines. Here I go.
“I don’t want to go to sleep, mommy! Not without daddy’s goodnight story!”
“Oh, okay, hon, but if NASA doesn’t relay his call in the next five minutes, you are turning the light right off, young lady.”
“Why is he taking so long?” The little girl raises her large pupils at her mother. “You think he forgot about me?”
So, what is your take now? Where would you take this microstory now? Perhaps it would be better that the man doesn’t die, right? I mean, there are actual people that love him, so that makes him somehow… valuable?
These microstories, the original and the extended version, make me think about the value of human life. How would you value it? I don’t mean in economic terms, I mean in this sense that you feel that somebody’s death is more or less of a pity, if you know where I’m coming from?
A stranger dies alone in bed, leaving no family behind. No friends visit his tomb.
You might pity him (or her, I know!), but if you truly look inside your feelings, it is his loneliness that you pity, not his life. His life is worthless.
The oldest woman on Earth, Akari Watanabe, dies at the age of 115, surrounded by her loved ones, going down several generations. This Japanese matriarch has meaningfully touched hundreds of lives in her hard, long quest through life.
Now, that woman is worthy, right? But why? She has achieved something important, but what is it? Try to put in as few words as possible, and feel free to comment with your thoughts.
What am I reading?
My bedtime reading is at this moment, The Carpet Makers. Heartily recommended by my brother while he was beta testing The Advent of Dreamtech. I finally got to it, because sadly I must spend most of my reading time with non-fiction books about marketing for authors *insert puke emoji here*. But be grateful—I am!—it is thanks to them that you can ultimately read my work.
What are YOU reading?
Terry is reading The Clockwork Chimera Series series (fantastic humor and great story line, he claims). Rob recommends “The Chronicles Of The Collapse” by Robert E Taylor, although he is frustrated that the author seems to have gone AWOL. And B. (sorry, I don’t know his/her name) fave of all times is a relatively recent novel: To Sleep in a Sea of Stars.
Feel free to comment with your current/recent readings, but ONLY if you are really enjoying it, please! I want to share only decent recommendations.
What am I working on?
I’m still heavily revising “The Second Wake” (Episode IV of Dreamworms). It’s a tough nut, because this is the episode of the entire Book 2 that more work requires, but I’m over the equator already, yeah!
Here a little random snippet copy-pasted from Chapter 29 “The Eye of Goah”, to tease your appetite (unedited, so remain tolerant!):
“I am so selfish!” Marjolein shakes her head in exaggerated regret, her wild, blonde braids shaking in the air. “I wanted our trade to flourish. Oh, Goah, I am sorry. Our steel,” she points at a few individuals dressed in fine tunics, heads down, eyes shut, nodding and mumbling. “Our fish,” she points at a broader indeterminate section of her audience. “More visitors—more merchants—more dowries. Goah, I am so selfish. Heresy was spreading in the shadows, and my arrogance made me… blind. Demons were plotting to ruin our legacy. And I was too proud to see. Too—hopeful, Goah has Mercy. I was blinded by my love, my ambition for our colony: a prosperous future, thriving under Goah’s Blessing. Alas, under my careless vigilance, evil brooded. And now our name is synonymous with blasphemy. I am so sorry, Lunteren.” Her head sinks. A tear—an honest to Goah real tear—runs down her cheek. “I failed you.”
That’s all I have for you today. Happy out-of-this-world reading!
—Isaac, logging out
https://isaacpetrov.com/sign-up/
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