Genre: Science Fiction
About Laurie StillLocation: Okinawa, Japan Age:25 Website: www.myspace.com/spontaniousinclination Favorite novels: Anything that keeps my interest Favorite writers: Isabel Allende, Mark Twain, Stephanie Meyer, Cathrine Jinks, Anne Bishop, Jim Butcher, J. R. R. Tolkien Favorite music: Rock, classical, classic rock, Latin beats, jazz, soundtrack scores Non-noveling interests: Writing for school or work. Watching Japanese anime. |
Joined: septembre 5, 2008 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 1 NaNoWriMo buddies: 5
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Brief Author Bio: I'd never let my past define me. I simply wasn't worth knowing back then. I wasn't anything more than a shell of a person, awkward and ignorant. For over three years I kept silent, listening to the conversations around me, biting back my own contributions, and absorbing society like a sponge. Even after that I kept quiet, only attempting the occasional experimental commentary, each which met with varied success. It wasn't until I was 16 that I was finally able to blossom, and this, only through writing. I found out that my words held unexpected wisdom and wit, and my descriptions held the power to fascinate. I'd found my element at last and I reveled in it. I might have been content with this private little outlet forever until I was reunited with my best-friend-for-life Erin... But that's a story for another day. |
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Synopsis: Schrödinger’s Bomb
Preface
The scientists who worked on the project theorized that the bomb’s impact would be great enough to effectively stop Earth’s time – for precisely 0.00235 seconds. The government who authorized its secret test launch and the historians who reordered the moment for classified files labeled it “The bomb that never hit”. Perhaps to an outside observer this seemed true enough, for the city they viewed through the distance lenses of their time saw no impact, saw no damage, so no destruction. Viewing from their time, now precisely 0.00235 seconds ahead of ours, they were correct in observing that nothing had happened. Confused and perplexed, they recorded and recorded, but the “bomb that never hit” was sealed forever in the past they could not see. A past that traps us –those of us who survived the bomb’s destruction- in the goulash fallout of what we prefer to call “Schrödinger’s Bomb”. Perhaps if none of us had survived the incinerating blast that devastated our city, the divergent reality would cease to be. Even if only one of us had survived, there is a chance that the unlucky victim would have opened the proverbial box to find either that the city destroyed, or that the city had survived. Either way, the dilemma would have been solved. Instead, several of us survived, and since we can’t live in two separate bodies in two separate times only 0.00235 apart, physics was forced to choose for us one outcome or the other. We each peered into the boxes of our fates and accepted the outcome we saw, but those two outcomes differ and collide every second of every day, locked in an eternal war for dominance. It’s no longer enough to have survived the blast. Now we have to survive each other and the "ghosts" of the unmarred city too, who refuse to face the truth of their destruction or trade their fragile reality in favor of our own private hell.
Excerpt: Schrödinger’s Bomb
Hell’s Dinking Song
Let’s celebrate our freedom
Toast a round to our health
Society has crumbled
So’s da man and his wealth
Everyone who matters
And everyone who didn’t
Went the way of the saint
And with good riddance!
Don’t bother mournin ‘em
No, don’t waste your time
Toast a round to their losses
And put ‘em out of your mind
It’s just us here now
So let the good times begin
Hell’s where the party is
If you can get in
Toast one round to your gods
Best bouncers there are
Keeping those ‘ligious frogs
From hoppin’ our bar
Toast a round to your dames
Both living and dead
Remember their names
But don’t worry your heads
Toast a round to yer mother
’d weep to see you tonight
Unless she’s right here w’ ya
And then it’s alright!
Toast a round to the ‘tender
Pours the best drinks you’ll taste
That devil might’ve spiked ‘em
But‘d be a real shame to waste
Toast a round to the rubble
That hides us so well
If we’re ever in trouble
Well, at least we’ve got hell!
(Written and performed by
singer/songwriter LE3T
©2009 InstantGrat Records)
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