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Blazing! Adventures Magazine has just published my story “The Empire Crown” in their September 2008 issue.

An unabashed tribute to the 1930s-era pulp adventure stories, Blazing! Adventures Magazine covers the full spectrum of noir detective thrillers, Westerns, space opera, action, “spicy” pulp, femme fatales and strong-jawed heroism. It is a gleeful throwback to a unique period — complete with its dependable style of presentation and writing.

As many of you know, I am a pulp-era aficionado. There’s little to compare it to today — perhaps The Rocketeer, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and maybe the upcoming The Spirit (which is based on one of the earliest pulps.) The Indiana Jones series is the best example of pseudo-pulp, too. Otherwise it’s sort of a forgotten thing… a footnote in literature. So I was naturally delighted when Blazing! Adventures recently came to my attention. How recently? Well, that ties into the story behind the story I wrote…

A reader friend of mine, aware of my fondness for the 1920s-1930s, suggested I check out the magazine. This suggestion came on Thursday of last week, which happened to be my birthday. The following morning, I decided to read through several of their stories, and noticed that their current reading period was closing on Saturday. If I wanted to submit anything, I had less than two days to write it.

Yes, write it. Because although I am writing a screenplay set in that genre, I had no short story set there. My fiction writing is chiefly historical and science-fiction. Pulp writing is a different animal. It is, above anything else, fun. High adventure, sharply-drawn morality, and action.

If I lived in the Pulp Era...

I wrote at white-heat for the next six hours. The idea, characters, setting, and plot all emerged as I wrote — and not all at once. I wanted to open with a chase, and the Parisian catacombs seemed an exotic and ghastly enough place to set it in. But I had no idea why there was a chase happening, or what was at stake. I started thinking about the catacombs as I wrote; they date back to Roman times when they were used for limestone quarries. I took a break for dinner, and began constructing the full story as I ate. Then I returned to the computer with a better idea of what was going to happen and what dastardly plot had descended on Paris. Seven more hours of writing. I broke for sleep. Woke early, made coffee, and spent the rest of the day pounding away at the keys, writing, revising, and polishing. Then, exhausted and flushed, I put it all into an email and hit SEND!

The response was swift: The story was accepted. And it is now committed to their September issue. My tribute to the pulp era… Rylan Matthis and the adventures of the The Empire Crown!

I am born.

Today is my birthday. The Earth has flung itself around the sun once more and I’m here to enjoy it. I’ve gotten some wonderful birthday messages from my good friends, including a stellar voice message from my friend Maria Orsini who, as an actress/singer would, sang my birthday song in a Broadway-style extravaganza. Her voice is wonderful.

Human beings used to live only 20 or 30 years. Now we’re pushing a hundred. Aging and death is a mechanical process, and the words of Archimedes resonate:

“Give me a lever and a place to stand, and I shall move the Earth.”

If I reach 100 years, the Green Wall of China is scheduled to be completed around then.

The Earth may have up to 9 billion people.

If Ray Kurzweil is correct with his estimations, the technological Singularity will be achieved by then.

Of course (and this does tie into that last point) I want to live forever. As I wrote in my article “The Future of Immortality,” human beings are always improving ourselves if at times it seems the opposite is true. Death is natural, but not everything natural is good. I am a humanist progressive, believing firmly in the power of human imagination and ingenuity, even if we have to remain vigilant every step of the way against the throwback maniac primitives in our midst:

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Two more quick notes:

In the last seventy-two hours I’ve set a new record for myself: I wrote three stories — two of them from scratch and the third adapted from an earlier story of mine — all within that narrow time-frame for the sake of some last-minute contests coming up this weekend. One is a fantasy story, the second is alternative history, and the third is straight-up historical. At work between job responsibilities, I would sit down at my computer and furiously type, crafting scenes and bridges and characters, then emailing it to myself. Later that night, at home, I pull the material out and start crafting it into stories.

The second note is absolutely great news, which I just received via phone twenty minutes ago. Can’t say much yet about it. Need to digest it… and have my birthday cake.

Quote of the Day:

“Upwards and onwards to immortality”

– from the tomb of Jules Verne

Today is Patriot Day, declared by President George W. Bush and intended to be distinguished from Patriots’ Day, which is celebrated to commemorate the American Revolution. You see, we once fought against oppression for the cause of freedom… delivering the ideals of the great Enlightenment to great reality. It was one thing to scribble such notions down on paper. But when the redcoats scoffed, we gave them a demonstration of our commitment straight from our muskets.

Patriot Day. Patriots’ Day.

Either way, I celebrate being a patriot… but not by the Bush definition of blind subservience, fear, and slavery. 9-11-01 was a tragedy in which we should have stood firm and courageous. Instead, too many of us allowed this tragedy to be exploited by power-mongers in our own government. We let ourselves be raped. We handed over rights of habeas corpus with a whimper and a plea. We barked when the government told us to, we cowered in Pavlovian fright each time a new Terror Threat Level was flashed across our television screens.

I am not afraid of terrorists.

My country defeated the tyranny of another King George — this one belonging to the British Empire –  when we were but scattered colonies in the wilderness. We defeated Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany. We can defeat today’s threats without devolving into a police state, without becoming the very antithesis to freedom and civil liberty that we were founded upon. For it is these notions that form the spine of our founding document - the Constitution.

America can only be destroyed from within, not without. It isn’t gay marriage or pluralism that destroys us. It is the fear-addicts who tell us to surrender our rights to dissent, our rights to question, our demands for governmental accountability. It is these people who shame the memory of their proud ancestors by working hard to destroy America from within… systematically whittling away our protected rights. It is these cowards who will fork over their souls to a nanny-state self-perpetuating White House regime without hesitation.

Hypocrites. Cowards. Traitors.

Make no mistake that those in power are keenly aware of how easy we are to manipulate. They bang the drums and we squeal, “Protect us! Protect us!” They feed us a steady diet of feel-good platitudes because they know the real meal - reading the Constitution - is something we don’t bother to stomach.

Shame.

When we’re attacked again, we need to stand strong and firm and fight, against those barbarians who hurt us and against those opportunistic politicians who will try to exploit the tragedy.

Don’t let others tell you what the Founding Fathers wrote. Read it for yourself, brush up on your history, and rediscover the bravery of your progenitors.

Before it’s too late, and the “land of the free/home of the brave” becomes a footnote filed under irony.

Happy Patriot and Patriots Day.

Quote of the day:

“If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” - George Washington

I went to Block Island this past weekend with my girlfriend. The excursion was needed; my blood has been boiling lately at the American publishing industry. It was an hour drive to New London, and then a ferry-ride of about an hour. During the last ice age, a retreating glacier shaped the island and then, as sea levels rose when the ice melted, it became divorced from the mainland.

Aboard the Jessica W.

We took the Jessica W, a 160-foot vessel, across moderately choppy waters. I have a love-hate relationship with the sea. It fascinates and repels me, stirs a passionate desire to explore it and yet terrifies with its promise of icy trenches and lurking things. The day was grey and rainy (my type of weather!) and Donna and I enjoyed drinks aboard before docking and renting a moped for exploration of the countryside.

Archipelago of Lilipads

There are tightly-clustered tourist-trap shops, but then there’s the rest of the island; quiet, rural, and apart. We drove around with the wind in our hair, intermittent rain tapping out playful rhythms on our heads, and got to the beach where we had wine and ancient Egyptian poetry. Searingly beautiful and passionate works written 3,000 years ago by The Harper, whoever the hell he was.

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Speaking of writing, I just found out today that Uncommon Review published a 5-star review of Remembering Hypatia. From the review: “Well-written and researched… I found Remembering Hypatia to be professionally-crafted and respectful to historical events. Our society would do well to read this book and recall what can happen when religious fanaticism gets out of control.”

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Finally, on Sunday an army of my actor friends arranged a stunningly touching farewell/tribute for a local stage director we have all grown to love and respect. Mr. Ed Wierzbicki has been the creative force behind the New Zenith Theater Company for 10 years. He’s a man of serious talent and endless energy, possessing that essential gift of bringing out the very best in his troop of actors. Well, Ed has accepted a position in the Berkshires, and will be expanding a small theater company there with total freedom to do what he wants. As a parting gift, we threw him a party at the Lily Lake Inn in Wolcott. In true thespian style, musical numbers  were coordinated,  speeches, and a well-meaning parody of Ed’s distinctive stage notes (”Doug? That was good… but next time… more NINJA.”) My good friend Mike Manna did a priceless imitation of Ed during this latter piece that had the entire hall erupting in hysterics.

Farewell and best of luck Ed! We will miss you!

Random Fact:

The ridiculously small critter named the Tardigrade can survive almost 1,000 times more radiation than other animals, can suspend its metabolism, live without water for a decade, exist comfortably in vacuum conditions, and are related to insects. Go ahead, say it. SPACE BUGS.

Quote of the Day:

“You cannot step twice into the same rivers; for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you…”

– Heraclitus