The Many Worlds of Sci-fi and Fantasy

My contribution to the AlmostAnAuthor website for March has been posted! The subject for this month: The Many Worlds of Sci-fi and Fantasy. Where do the characters of your story live? Check out the post to see!

Happy writing, friends!

a3fantasycolumnunsplashnasa

Photo credit Unsplash by NASA

Caffeinated Speculation: ‘Firefly’ Reboot?

I had a few things on my mind to talk about this week–the release of the mid-season premier for The Walking Dead being one. (Hello!? How awesome was it, right?) But in the end, another article floating around the internet caught my attention: 

Will Firefly finally see a reboot?

For those of you unaware of this TV show, it originally aired back in 2002 on the Fox network, with Joss Whedon at the helm. It’s unique concept of old-time western mixed with futuristic sci-fi gained it a cult-following, despite the fact it lasted only 1 season. Since that time fans have demanded for a return of the show, and many Comic-Con type events have hosted the cast and crew, along with a feature length film, entitled Serenity, that was released 2005. (If you haven’t seen the show, check it out on Netflix! **Side note: This show is for mature audiences.)

For those of us who’ve watched (and re-watched) this show, it will always have a special place in our geeky-scifi-lovin’ hearts. But interviews with both Joss Whedon and lead cast member, Nathan Fillion, have both shown a hesitation on their end, for a reboot. Yes, it’s what the fans want; Yes, the cast and crew would be thrilled to revisit that time of their career; But is it what’s best for all? Maybe not. Whedon has suggested that the very fact that Firefly went off the air in it’s prime–when so many viewers have such fantastic memories of it–is what makes it such a cult favorite. To bring it back could set it up for a mediocre return, which could then prove as a disappointment that overshadows the entire series.  Continue reading

Recycle, Reuse, Rewrite

Hello CF friends! It’s that time again! My most recent post for the Fantasy/SciFi section over at AlmostAnAuthor has gone live. Fan of the TV series Firefly? You might be interested in what I have to say in my post Recycle, Reuse, Rewrite!

Check out the blog post here.

Happy writing, friends!

a3fantasycolumnunsplashnasa

Photo Credit Unsplash by NASA

Flash Fiction Friday: Invasion

Aliens aren’t real.

That’s what I’ve been told the last twelve years of my life, anyway. Sure, science found a single-cell life form somewhere in our system, but it can’t even talk back. What good is that? In our vast universe of planets, stars, and galaxies, we are the only intelligent life.

That was, until today.

Today we learned we are no longer alone. The world around me is in mass hysteria as we await our very first, bonafide visit from a space alien! But not me. I’m calm. My dad is one of the head-honchos at the landing site.

Which is why I stand here, crowded in by another half-dozen family members of fellow employees who got by security, too.

A ship lands in the dirt. My heart stops beating.

This is it.

The door opens. Two figures emerge, dressed in white suits with shiny silver helmets. One stops, holds up a hand with only five fingers. It pulls off it’s helmet, reveals a face with two eyes but only one nose. A gasp draws from the crowd.

“Greetings. We come in peace. We are from Earth.”

 

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2017

planet-581239_1280

Photo Credit Pixabay by LoganArt

Flash Fiction Friday: The Numbers

“458, 3701, 3, 2, 1.”

Stella joined Rocky in his walk as he counted his numbers.

“Morning, Rocky.” She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders and kicked a stone on the crumbled sidewalk.

“5, 5, 5.” He looked at an imaginary point straight ahead and gripped the straps to his pack a little tighter. His gaze never slid to his feet and he never looked anyone in the eye.

Stella had always found it curious that he didn’t trip or fall.

“Ready for that test in Pre-Algebra?” she said.

The two crossed 36th and Main. Stella had to shield her eyes from the early morning sun that fell through the cracks of the tall buildings.

“38, 921, 2023.”

Rocky’s jaw was tight and his gut swayed as they walked around a street vendor who sold fresh coffee and day-old donuts. No one in eighth grade ever spoke to Rocky, except for Stella, of course. He’d always been a bit odd, but he’d been her neighbor ever since she could remember. There had to be something behind those numbers and the way he ignored the world around him. She just had to stick around long enough to figure out what.

“Cheer assembly is tomorrow. Think you’ll wear something funky for Crazy Hat Day?” She smiled and waved at the nice lady who ran the fish market.

“971, 636, 259.”

Stella threw an arm across Rocky’s chest to stop him from stepping in front of the car that just ran a stop light. “Hey! Watch it!” They stepped off the curb and continued their walk. “You okay?”

“1, 1, 1.”

She sighed and they walked in silence. Cars squealed past, parked along the street, waited bumper to bumper for the stoplights to change. They crossed 37th Street.

“So you think Mr. Hopper will count that project for double like he said…”

Her brow pulled together as they passed the shoe repair shop, address number 3701. A guy at the next shop over stood outside yelling, “3 days left for this amazing sale! 2 deals for the price of 1!” Where had she heard those numbers before?

The bum along the wall of the building grunted and jumped as a pigeon above pooped along the sleeve of his jacket. Stella pressed an inch closer to Rocky and they swerved out of the way.

“5 bucks is all it takes! Just 5 to try your luck! Who’s got 5?”

A street magician shuffled a deck of cards between his hands, like liquid that poured from a faucet. Stella blinked.

She grabbed Rocky’s arm. “Come on. We need to get to school.”

They crossed 38th, walked half a block, then the crunch of metal stopped them short. A three car pile up sat just feet from the curb. The lead car–a BMW that looked brand new–was crumpled like a piece of paper, its license plate twisted in half. Only the 971 part of the tag was still visible.

“Wait.” Stella’s heart raced.

“60, 59, 58.”

“You said that number, didn’t you? The one on the license plate?” She narrowed her eyes at the boy but he still wouldn’t look in her direction.

“55, 54.”

“And you’ve been counting each street we cross minutes before we even cross it, haven’t you?” Stella was right. She knew this in her soul. How had she never seen the connection between the numbers before?

“10.7, 10.8, 53.”

“Rocky, what do the numbers mean? Why do you repeat numbers all the time? Why did we see them just after you said those exact numbers?”

“7, 35.”

“Rocky, how can you do this? What does it mean?”

He shifted on his feet, his fingers at work on the straps of his pack. “41, 40.”

A man and woman stormed past as their voices echoed through the streets. “1 good reason! Just give me 1, Nancy! 1 reason why I should stick around this time!”

Stella’s heart sank to her knees. “Rocky. How do you know? Tell me how you know.”

For the first time she could ever remember, Rocky turned and looked Stella directly in the eyes.

“19, 18, 17.”

“Rocky?” Her lip quivered and her voice was small.

“I’m sorry, Stella. 10.9, 3, 2.”

She glanced at the clock in the square. 7:35 exactly.

The ground rumbled then it sank below their feet.

 

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2016

ft0-xu4ntva-loic-djim

Photo credit Unsplash Loic Djim