To Write a Story

If anyone’s asking, a ship just materialized out of some kind of sophisticated hyperspace, which rather surprising considering that it appears to be composed of some sort of bio-organic material. It would be merely an interesting event if it hadn’t appeared right in the middle of humanity’s spacefleet, which is rather heavily armed at the moment due to the Conflict of Silence at the edge of our frontier territories, and we can’t tell if this gelatinous newcomer is also rigged for battle, so somebody had better do something quick—the Grand Admiral is kinda jumpy.

If anyone’s asking, of course there’s a princess in that tower, and she keeps getting all the attention. For my part, I’m worried about the prince in the other tower approximately seven leagues away, but nobody knows in what direction relative to the princess’s tower—everyone knows where that one is. Exploration is no simple matter either; the number of dragons and safe stepping stones changes with every adventurer’s account. The part of the tale that doesn’t change is that the royal pair were imprisoned by the same antagonistic being, at the same time…for the same reason. On a related note, the prince and princess aren’t related. Heh. Ironic choice of words there.

If anyone’s asking, that guy is still sitting in the alley, and it’s been three days now so someone had better check up on him. Nobody should be sitting in an alleyway in the first place, but if you have to make an uncomfortable discrimination, this guy is especially not supposed to be there. The power he hides from the world should be enough to raise him higher than the mayor of this city, but who knows how many others would suffer if he just let his abilities loose for five minutes. Consequently he’s got no idea what to do with himself and his “curse” as he calls it, and unless some ballsy passerby with advanced problem-solving skills wanders by, not much is going to change.

If anyone’s asking, there is a reason for all the floating books in this library. The reason is inside one of those floating books, but the trouble with their new levitational capabilities is that the library’s organization has basically gone out the window. Also, when I say “the reason is inside one of those floating books”, I mean “the first step in uncovering the reason is inside one of those floating books.” There’s also a reason why I know this. That’s inside a different floating book. Have fun.

If anyone’s asking, NO! It’s NOT easy to land a mining skiff on a comet. The scouting drone we sent didn’t do so well; its fragments are probably scattered across Hale-Bopp’s face right now, and that won’t make our landing any easier. I will say that manually piloting this cramped ship ups the ante by a teeth-grinding percentage—couple that to the fact that the comet will soon be leaving Viable Retrieval Distance, and I expect to have a total cardiac failure before the clamping skids touch down. But the minerals and alleged organic chemicals are too much to pass up. If we can pull off this mission successfully, I’ll never have to go int—hold it! We’re—hold on to—[TRANSMISSION LOST]

If anyone’s asking, it’s against the law to ask questions. We know what we’re doing, and needless inquiries will slow our societal progress. Your Overseers are good, and that’s all we need to know. Glory to the Overseers.

If anyone’s asking, they’re still living in the Great Suburban Wilderness. We’re not sure how they do it, so we assume that someone should be asking how. They say it takes a village to raise a child, but don’t let those clustered houses fool you—these cookie-cutter dwellings are their own islands that occasionally wave at each other. By rights, our couple should have four villages to assist them, but in reality their support comes from a corporation that absentmindedly throws money in their general direction every so often. At any rate, we need someone to figure out how they do it, ‘cause frankly the entire world is stumped, and we need to figure out the secret before we scrap their whole enterprise.

If anyone’s asking, the Beast is still squatting at the other end of the bridge, and it doesn’t look like he’s inclined to go away. Use this enchanted spear. They say that the Beast’s vulnerable spot is inside the center mouth-hole, so it’s a good thing you’ve been practicing your throw. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive about your broken arm. Good luck with the direct stab, then. Don’t look at me like that! The reason you even have that singular spear is the same reason that I’m four inches tall. Look, I’d tell you the story—I’ve been trying to forget it myself—but the Beast has little patience for travelers who idle on the other side of the bridge. Oop. He’s making the jump. Have at ‘im!

If anyone’s asking, these stories may all be connected.

If anyone’s asking, I don’t think it’s a matter of waiting for inspiration. It’s a matter of curiosity.

To be honest, I’m not 100-percent sure how I came up with this one. I think I wanted to try something special because 1) this year marked the 50^th anniversary of our college’s arts magazine, and 2) this was my last year as an undergraduate. So when you can’t decide on one story idea, why not do ALL THE STORY IDEAS?

Apparently the editors liked my idea too. This piece ended up winning the short fiction award—my third one out of my four college years. Also, at the publication’s release party—when they announced the winners—I was there to cover the event for the school paper. Needless to say, writing the article was interesting.