Through A Window E-Book

Elizabeth N. Love

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Explore the distant realms of your imagination. Dive deep into alien worlds, learn how a kingdom that knew only light brought darkness to the world, and gasp with horror at the annihilation of an entire species.

Stunningly illustrated and covering a myriad of thought-provoking topics - from alien cultures to human relationships and genocide - each of these five stories encapsulates the wonder of human, and humanoid, curiosity and strength.

Leseprobe

Through a Window

A Short Story Collection

Elizabeth N. Love

Copyright (C) 1990-2014 Elizabeth N. Love

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Paramita (www.creativeparamita.com)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

ForeWord

Short stories are a great way to take small ideas and explore them in a brief, meaningful way. Some ideas don't take flight as easily as others and require more work to make into something enjoyable. Other ideas soar and within a few hours can be perfected into a decent work of literature. Then there are the complete flops, but who wants to talk about those?

Writing has been my fondest passion since I was nine years old. It started out as poems and stories written for first graders as projects for school. As I continued through school, I spent more and more time writing longer, more advanced stories. I used a thesaurus to expand my vocabulary, endeavoring to avoid repeating descriptive words within a single page. I observed everything I could for ideas, looking to the sky, the ground, watching minute details that many people may not notice. I also read dozens of books, mostly classic science fiction like Ray Bradbury and Ursula K. LeGuin, and fantasy like Anne McCaffrey and Terry Brooks. I even used dreams as a source of inspiration. In high school, I was called out by teachers for writing instead of listening in class, with threats of taking my notebook away. The will power to focus on class was immense, especially during boring topics, but losing my notebook would be akin to amputating my right arm. Writing became an obsession.

Many friends have read these stories and wanted more—more of the characters, more of the story, more and more stories. Some have even offered ideas for new stories.

I typically write down ideas on a daily basis and ponder the implications of the thought. All of these ideas are handwritten in small journals and saves in boxes and boxes in the basement. When I feel the mood, I will seek out an old idea (and I can remember which book each idea is in, because I never buy matching books) and hope that a new experience in my life gives me the piece I need to make the story work. Not everything written in those journals will come to fruition, and some is indulgent Star Trek fan fiction meant for my eyes only.

For many years, I also kept a dream journal. I have the ability to remember most of what I dream so that when I wake up, I can attempt to interpret what my unconscious mind processed overnight. I'm also very aware that I am dreaming and, in that way, I can observe great detail in the dreamworld, recalling names, faces, colors and movements throughout each sequence. I kept the journal to sort out what certain symbols meant to me, such as pink flamingos symbolizing my mother-in-law or stairs that lead nowhere symbolizing indecision.

The stories in this volume are older works from my collection. Most have been entered in contests, some with encouraging results. They have gone by other titles and been worked over a few times to fit word limits and to perfect the details. Up against hundreds of other entries from around the globe, each entry proudly advanced into the top ten entries, and that's not too shabby. For a while I worked on my novel a great deal, and for an even longer while I had a few children and just plain didn't have time to write anything, even a spark of a new idea. Sleep deprivation, as well as zero free time, stripped me of creativity during those years. Well, not completely stripped. I worked on scrapbooks and cross-stitch patterns or other endeavors that were more easily put aside during a distraction. And all the while I've held full time employment in various occupations including Real Estate Title Agent, ACH Professional, and Data Entry Supervisor.

I work in both Science Fiction and Fantasy, but most of my effort is in the characters, bringing to life people who don't exist. I want the reader, usually myself, to bond with the characters on an emotional level. The settings are a vehicle to drive the characters from their everyday lives into unwieldy situations. The characters let me know how they are going to handle the circumstances in which they are place, lending an organic feel to each one. Sometimes I am honestly surprised by their reactions. Certainly, my subconscious is reacting for them, and I learn a great deal about how I might react in extreme situations by the lives my characters lead.

Please enjoy this sampling and, I promise, there will be more to come.

Introduction to Far Seer

This is one of my favorites.

In 2001, I prepared to enter the Science Fiction Writers of Earth short story contest for the second time and sought a suitable topic on which to base a story. The previous year, I placed in the bottom half of the top ten, so I set my goal to reach higher.

I came up with a telescope and a primitive culture much like hunter-gatherers, only not humans. These cat-like beings adhered to a code of mysticism based upon a planet in nearby orbit which visited them once every few years. The gravity of the passing planet changed weather patterns, therefore bringing much needed rain that was absent in the years between. The primitive people saw the nearby orb as a face watching them and bringing them fortune. The nearby planet is home to yet another race, one much more advanced. So what happens when the two races meet?

Originally, the story was titled Look Through, for the name the primitive race gave the telescope. Later I changed the name of the device. I received this email from the contest administrator, Gil Reis, once the judging was over:

“Congratulations, Bee Love, for placing Fifth (Second Honor) in the 2001 SFWoE SF/F Short Story Contest!

The 2001 Contest received a record 239 entries. Placing fifth is an outstanding accomplishment.

Our judge, author Edward Bryant, had this to say about your winning story: “The second honor award goes to Bee Love for 'Look Through,' a more traditional variety of classic science fictional theme, but executed with obvious affection and a touch of freshness. The story gives us parallel stories of two inhabited worlds in close mutual orbit.”

Ed told me he enjoyed reading your story as it was well written and kept the reader's interest”.

I entered the contest for several years until Gil retired and closed down. Unfortunately, he had no one to take over the administration of this amateur contest. Writers like myself lost a wonderful outlet to share our creative work with others.

Originally published in 2001

The Far-Seer

Mela thumbed through the pages of the last chronicle, seeking out the past day that correlated to this one. The square pages presented star patterns and weather changes of the past five years. Another book held the five years before that. Still other books held similar records since the people had invented a chisel to permanently mark stone. In the cave, Mela was surrounded by the records of centuries, a repetitive cycle of events.

Tonight marked the first night of the new Katak, the new five-year cycle. This day was very special, for the Great Face would appear in the sky for the first time since the last Katak. For eight days, She would shine upon them in full gold and blue glory.

Everyone in the village prepared their offerings. As the suns set, they gathered at the top of the rocky hill to witness the Emergence. From below the southern horizon She would rise, filling the darkness with Her light, so large as to seem to hide the star-littered sky behind Her. The villagers gathered to honor Her presence, to please Her and remind Her that they depended on Her to raise the seas so that the rains for the next five years would be on time. Without the rise of the seas, the rain clouds came too late and the schedule of crops was thrown askew. For over a thousand years, the people planted to this schedule, growing the moist foods in the first year, the dryer foods each year until they planted the grassy foods the final year. They looked forward to the wet foods again, the watery melons and the juicy fruits. All of the villagers endeavored to keep the Great Face happy.

Mela witnessed Her Emergence ten times before. The Face came without fail and never expressed displeasure that she could remember. Tonight would be Mela's 55th birthday. Sharing her birth with the visit of the Great Face destined her to be the Keeper of the Chronicles. She began her training at an early age to pen the characters and sketches and to interpret them for the villagers. The last Keeper had been a wise old woman who taught her to study the past in order to forecast the future. Mela studied the patterns that affected the growing seasons. Watching the sun through a pinhole might herald drought and a spectacular evening sky show of undulating lights. Walking out along the Chasm helped her attune her body to Chasarc, the planet itself. She could sense the coming of a ground quake by the ringing in her ears. Mela learned many secrets to being a record keeper and discovered the job required more than recording the events that happened. She became responsible for events that would happen

The wooden door that helped seal the cave gave way a bit more to admit her friend Bena.

He smiled a toothy smile as he entered. “Blessed Katak and blessed birthday to you, Mela. May you live long and well.” Then he handed her a bundle of smooth cloth. “I brought a gift for you. Don't worry. It is not something that the Great Face would want.”

Unused to receiving gifts for the occasion, Mela pondered the bundle with a slack lower jaw. Her tongue twitched pink inside her mouth as she struggled to find something to say.

“You should wait until the passing. Our energies should be focused upon Her Emergence.” Those were the right words to say, but speaking them in no way diminished her curiosity toward what the cloth concealed. She fondled the bulk of the object with her stubby fingers.

“I know, but I couldn't wait. This day is so exciting. I have a feeling this Katak will be the best ever!” Bena rose up on his round toes as he spoke. His excitement appeared genuine.

“And what gives you that feeling, Bena?” she asked with teeth bared in a crooked smile. She unwrapped the string from the cloth and began to unroll the bundle on the writing table.

“Just a tingle in my tail, I guess.” He bounced on his toes, his hands shoved deep in his tunic pockets.

The gift felt heavy, possessed a cylindrical shape, and forged of alloy, a mixed metal of which they did not have much. Alloy was too inefficient to make in useful quantities. A piece of glass closed each end of the tube.

“What is it?” She rolled the object across the table's surface with the delicate touch of a claw.

“I call it a far-seer. It makes things appear closer or larger than they really are,” Bena explained.

“Where did you get this?” Mela held the tube out in front of her gingerly, unsure what to do with it.

“Aha and I put it together. We invented it accidentally, really. But it's amazing to see. Things are unbelievably huge! We can see the oil on a bird's feather with it. You can use it for your studies. You'll get more use out of it than I. I just wanted to make a boiler for Arva. You'll think of all kinds of uses for it, I'm sure. Go ahead. Try it.”

Bena had to physically move her to point the device at a page of her book and look through. She squinted down the tube, then lifted her head to look at the page unaided. Looking through the glass made the paper appear as though it were right next to her eye. The ink marks were enormous. She could see the uneven texture of the paper fiber like plowed ground.

“Bena, this is astounding!” Mela sputtered. “I can see so much detail.” Her mind immediately floundered with ideas for the device's uses. “Explain to me how this works.”

“I don't know exactly. I intended to use the glass to focus sunlight to boil water. Aha and I discovered one day that curved glass creates bright spots when sunlight shines through. We started small fires with the heat. We thought it might save time gathering wood if we could cook with this heat. We haven't figured out quite how to make a contraption work that way.”

Outside the bells rang. The time came to join the others in welcoming the Great Face, time for the new book to be blessed by the people to hold their history. The ceremony would begin in a few moments so that the first night of the passing could be recorded and the celebration could begin.

Mela grabbed the old book, her pen and the ink. Then she grabbed the far-seer, slipping it into her waist pouch.

The Great Face was coming.

The bells silenced and a soft rhythmic drumbeat took over. The last of the offerings were placed at the highest point of the hill, to let the Great Face feast.

The bookbinder came to the front of the crowd where Mela stood. The senior elder, the one woman who had lived through twenty-one Kataks, came forward as well, took the new chronicle and the old and, with some help for her meatless arms, held the two together at the bindings. Her voice scratchy from years of oration, the Eldest waited for just the right moment to speak, as the first sliver of the Face emerged on the horizon.

“Oh Great Face, Wanderer of the Heavens, we welcome you again into our skies. We live by your grace and die by your grace. Grant us the wisdom and virtue to please you to come again to smile upon us.

The suns finally disappeared, leaving only the fantastic glow of the golden sphere as She rose further into view.

“Great Face!” the villagers greeted in loud unison.