On Being Blasted!

I spent Sunday on the South Bank,  in the midst of the Thames Festival.  Music, food, and a Night Carnival featuring the fabulous London School of Samba.  And at lunchtime, I saw people playing on the sandbanks on the shore of the Thames, a rare sight - and then, even rarer, I saw a crocodile and an octopus beautifully sculpted from sand.

Later on I took my family to see this amazing spectacle, only to find the tide was high and the sand was all gone; and I was once again exposed as a probable fantasist. ("A crocodile, Philip?")

In the afternoon, I did a sci-fi workship for Blast! in Theatre Square, outside the National Theatre.  It was a delightful session, with a small group of 13-19 year olds who listened, either enraptured or bored to tears but hiding it very well, at my account of SF extrapolation, and the principles of quantum teleportation as used in the novels of Charles Stross and Michael Crichton.

A few of the young people said they didn't really know what science fiction actually is.  I've heard various good accounts over the years, and most recently this definitive account from Darrell Schweitzer on the Benford/Rose website. (His comments directly follow Benford's comments about fantasy.)  But it's harder than it seems to summarise the essence of science fiction.  No, it doesn't have to be about the future; no, it doesn't have to have lots of gadgets.  And in answer to one young person's question - yes, Orwell's 1984 is definitely science fiction - because it's an extrapolation,  a brilliant guess about what society might be in 1984, as well as being a satire of life in Europe and Russian in 1948.  (Hence the title.)

The best definition of SF for me though came in the second part of the session, when I asked my wannabee SF writers to come up with their own extrapolations. I won't describe them in detail - because some of these young people may be planning to write their own stories, which they will want to sell for money. But the range and imagination of the ideas they generated were heartening.  One girl had an idea for a new form of energy, in a way that was ripe for exciting dramatic development; one boy had a great mystery/thriller concept about an object buried in the Thames; another of the participants had an idea involved 'mutated souls' which I adored.  Another had a wholly new angle on identity swapping, which could be a great basis for a thriller.  All great stuff! Though no one of course had time to develop an actual storyline.

But this experience confirms for me that, more often than not, in SF it's the idea that starts it all. Yes you need great characters, yes you need emotional truth, yes you need suspense and thrills and a strong narrative.  But ideas that inspire - SF is the only genre which starts and ends with that.

There are, of course,  SF novels that are not about scientific extrapolations or ideas, where characters come first. Those books are cool too; and if they're in the future, or an alternative present, they're still SF.  (I hate definitions that act as slammed doors; I prefer definitions that illuminate.) But as a rule of thumb, I do think 'ideas that inspire' fits aforesaid thumb.

Elsewhere, I've given this definition; science fiction is the collision between extrapolation, speculation and imagination.  That also works for me.

But does anyone else have a better definition....?

Anyway, a great day; and many thanks to the BBC for organising the Blast! workshops, on the South Bank, and all around the country.

On Becoming Immortal

Isn't it annoying, in a world of 24 hours news and ever more intrusive media stories,  how the really important stories get neglected and ignored?

This thought occurred to me recently  when browsing Gregory Benford and Michael R. Rose's website,  which is intended a  forum for debate about science in the modern world. (It also includes a superb rant about fantasy fiction, which I don't necessarily agree with, but rates as an eloquent and brilliant five star tirade by someone who has every right to those views.)

But elsewhere, the site offers access to a scientific presentation  which essentially argues convincingly that IMMORTALITY is possible, and that all of us have at some point in our lives the potential to become immortal.

But how, I marvelled could such an amazing discovery be so little known, and under-reported?  It's like discovering that telepathy and dowsing are on the GCSE syllabus.

The rationale is that the ageing process, essentially, slows down remarkably beyond a certain stage - hence the profusion of people aged 90 and over.  Yes, there are aches and pains, joints get arthritic, wear and tear kicks in, and the chances of being killed by a fatal illness increase simply because the individual has lived longer.  But no one ever dies of old age; there's always some specific medical reason.  And this graphic slideshow display illustrates a taken-for-granted scientific truth; we are immortal.

Um, how come that never rated a newspaper front page?

This is not, I hasten to add, a crank article; Benford and Rose are distinguished figures and would not be held responsible for promoting flim-flammery and scientific spoofery. No, the truth is out there - immortality is possible.

I've now done extensive research into the practical implications of this discovery; and I can confidently assert that  I know how to live forever.

I am prepared to share this knowledge with a select number of like-minded people.  And, as an inducement to the small but loyal readership of this blog, I am willing to make the following offer:

Whoever is determined to be (by a fair adjudication based on mathematical principles) the most loyal reader of this blog, in regard to hits and Comments sent, over the next 12 month period, will be entitled to be informed of the secret of immortal life (OR ((There's always an 'Or')) subject to this blogger's discretion, such person will be entitled to a free copy of every novel I ever write, plus a slap up meal in the most expensive pizza restaurant in London.)

Here's looking forward to the next millennium...