I am rereading Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalypse Vol 1. because I am teaching it this summer for the second time. Shout out to The Fireman, which I am also teaching. Yesterday, I read "When Sysadmins Ruled the World" or some such. That short story was so well written, and the language was so playful and funny, but what really struck me were the stereotypes that were remastered and rehumanized Like the size of the nerds' bellies to show how long they had been working for the company, but also how fucked up their jobs had been overworking them. It reminded me of the OIT folks I work with. They are always on call and running around fixing problems.
This particular story was about these sysadmins who were battling computer viruses, meanwhile a shit storm of threats to humanity were unfolding all around them like bio-weapons, nukes, bombs. It was an excellent story that ended with some serious hope.
That sense of hope is what makes awesome dystopian literature, even just a glimmer, and what I really hope to nurture in my novel The Harvest. In fact, I have the ending mostly done. At the same time, I like bitter-sweet endings, so that may alter where the novel goes. It's not quite formed, but the outline is there.
Anyway, my brain is in play mode, and I'm watching House of Cards. I started Season 1 this week. Which is all to say that this is the first time I've woken up early and haven't hit the novel first, so of course, I'm going to discipline the beast and write for an hour. Of course.
Here's to deep ideas (none of which I've had yet) and serious writing discipline. #Resist