Fracturing physics
It's mind bending, but ever so much fun to put it in a story. I'll just give you a précis. My novel Falling Up is about a boy who can fly. Yeah, I know. And I nicknamed him Peter in acknowledgement. Anyway, to deal with the physics without invoking pixie dust, I fantasized that he could control gravity with his mind.
Good so far, except this means he feels zero gravity. Well, that's cool, and being able to do the same for friends is wonderful! Except, zero gravity training usually is done with a sick bag in hand. So, he has to give everyone instructions: no problem. Fun to include that the villains get no instructions, with the humiliating result.
The world is a big place, so to make this story more than just page after page of him flying somewhere else, he has to be able to go fast. Well, that's great, I love the idea of going fast. Add in flying plus zero-g, and I've got the trifecta of wonderful, in my opinion.
Oh, but high speed is windy, and if it's extreme, it's tough on clothes and limbs. Wind chill is not so fun, either. Add a sprinkle of fantasy: he can make wind shields with gravity. This solves another problem, of going high because the air gets thin. It's a rough world out there, so his shields need to stop bullets. Ok, even big bullets. Now he's all cozy in a bubble, and it's nice and quiet.
There's more, but you get the idea. I worked to demonstrate these aspects and how his abilities dealt with them, and how it all made him so different, so wonderful.
Here's a sample. You can read the whole sequence in the free preview on Amazon; this is in chapter 4.
Peter returned to the office building the next morning right after breakfast. Since he was travelling east, he wasn't going to arrive just after they opened, so he travelled extra fast to get there as soon as he could. Thinking of the reaction of the guards last night, he left his lights high in the air and landed around the curve of the road from the building, then casually walked to it.
A man and a woman stopped talking when he opened the door, and they just stared at him, mouths open.
“Good morning! Is this the place for me to arrange to bring in scrap metal in trade for iron product?”
The man blinked, swallowed, and said, “Are you the boy with the lights?”
Peter, taken aback, answered, “Uh, yes, I am, but how did you know?”
“We were just discussing whether we were going to fire one of the night guards for sleeping on the job when he reported a boy who was glowing, and who then flew away, or whether we were going to put both guards on sick leave when the second guard finally admitted he'd seen the boy too. Then just now there was a great thunder in a clear sky, and not two minutes later you walk in the door!”
“Thunder?” Peter thought quickly. There was turbulence when he was flying so fast, but it wasn't a problem — or so he thought. Maybe he was pushing the air out of the way and making wind or something. He'd have to talk to Teacher about this!
“Well, sorry about that. I didn't intend to scare you. I'm just wanting to do some trading here.”
Urgently, the man asked, “What about the flying?”
After a second's hesitation, Peter lifted himself off the floor to hang there, unmoving.
. . .
Terence suddenly joined the conversation. “Does it get dark earlier here than where you live?”
“Yes, it does.”
“So, you live some distance to the west from here! That explains why you were talking to the night guards!” Jumping out of his chair, he continued, “Of course! The sonic boom!”
“The what?”
“The thunder we heard just before you walked in. You were flying faster than the speed of sound! You broke the sound barrier!”
“I didn't know there was a barrier. Who calls it that?”
“The men who were building jet planes to go ever faster over a century ago. Do you ever experience turbulence while flying?”
“Sure, I feel turbulence on the outside of my bubble, but it's no problem.”
Slapping his arms against his sides, Terence said, “No problem? No problem? Men died figuring out how to build aircraft that could go faster than the speed of sound!”
It was Peter's turn to stand there with his mouth open. Airplanes that could fly as fast as he could? The thought that they might, and that it would be dangerous, simply hadn't occurred to him. Then a memory struck him. “Can flying faster than sound break the tops off trees?”
Laughing, Terence said, “Are you bragging? Or asking?” He held up his hand. “I get it.” After he had control of himself again, he said, “You are such a remarkable young man! What did you say your name was?” He walked toward Peter with his hand out. “I'm Terence, and I'm so thrilled to meet you!”
Good so far, except this means he feels zero gravity. Well, that's cool, and being able to do the same for friends is wonderful! Except, zero gravity training usually is done with a sick bag in hand. So, he has to give everyone instructions: no problem. Fun to include that the villains get no instructions, with the humiliating result.
The world is a big place, so to make this story more than just page after page of him flying somewhere else, he has to be able to go fast. Well, that's great, I love the idea of going fast. Add in flying plus zero-g, and I've got the trifecta of wonderful, in my opinion.
Oh, but high speed is windy, and if it's extreme, it's tough on clothes and limbs. Wind chill is not so fun, either. Add a sprinkle of fantasy: he can make wind shields with gravity. This solves another problem, of going high because the air gets thin. It's a rough world out there, so his shields need to stop bullets. Ok, even big bullets. Now he's all cozy in a bubble, and it's nice and quiet.
There's more, but you get the idea. I worked to demonstrate these aspects and how his abilities dealt with them, and how it all made him so different, so wonderful.
Here's a sample. You can read the whole sequence in the free preview on Amazon; this is in chapter 4.
Peter returned to the office building the next morning right after breakfast. Since he was travelling east, he wasn't going to arrive just after they opened, so he travelled extra fast to get there as soon as he could. Thinking of the reaction of the guards last night, he left his lights high in the air and landed around the curve of the road from the building, then casually walked to it.
A man and a woman stopped talking when he opened the door, and they just stared at him, mouths open.
“Good morning! Is this the place for me to arrange to bring in scrap metal in trade for iron product?”
The man blinked, swallowed, and said, “Are you the boy with the lights?”
Peter, taken aback, answered, “Uh, yes, I am, but how did you know?”
“We were just discussing whether we were going to fire one of the night guards for sleeping on the job when he reported a boy who was glowing, and who then flew away, or whether we were going to put both guards on sick leave when the second guard finally admitted he'd seen the boy too. Then just now there was a great thunder in a clear sky, and not two minutes later you walk in the door!”
“Thunder?” Peter thought quickly. There was turbulence when he was flying so fast, but it wasn't a problem — or so he thought. Maybe he was pushing the air out of the way and making wind or something. He'd have to talk to Teacher about this!
“Well, sorry about that. I didn't intend to scare you. I'm just wanting to do some trading here.”
Urgently, the man asked, “What about the flying?”
After a second's hesitation, Peter lifted himself off the floor to hang there, unmoving.
. . .
Terence suddenly joined the conversation. “Does it get dark earlier here than where you live?”
“Yes, it does.”
“So, you live some distance to the west from here! That explains why you were talking to the night guards!” Jumping out of his chair, he continued, “Of course! The sonic boom!”
“The what?”
“The thunder we heard just before you walked in. You were flying faster than the speed of sound! You broke the sound barrier!”
“I didn't know there was a barrier. Who calls it that?”
“The men who were building jet planes to go ever faster over a century ago. Do you ever experience turbulence while flying?”
“Sure, I feel turbulence on the outside of my bubble, but it's no problem.”
Slapping his arms against his sides, Terence said, “No problem? No problem? Men died figuring out how to build aircraft that could go faster than the speed of sound!”
It was Peter's turn to stand there with his mouth open. Airplanes that could fly as fast as he could? The thought that they might, and that it would be dangerous, simply hadn't occurred to him. Then a memory struck him. “Can flying faster than sound break the tops off trees?”
Laughing, Terence said, “Are you bragging? Or asking?” He held up his hand. “I get it.” After he had control of himself again, he said, “You are such a remarkable young man! What did you say your name was?” He walked toward Peter with his hand out. “I'm Terence, and I'm so thrilled to meet you!”
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