I've found my writing music.
Never thought I'd say that, really. I have a problem with music when I'm writing and I usually don't bother. I prefer silence. But a friend gave me a CD from Cosmo Frequency and I listened to it all the way through--more, I was able to write and the music helped.
Weird, but true.
Cosmo Frequency, Soundtrack to Life.
http://www.cosmofrequency.com/
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Monday, April 7, 2014
Transformation--A compilation of Flash Fiction
I have something for you today.
Myself and a couple of my writer friends, including best selling author Wendy Knight, have done a book of short stories--very short.
It's called Flash Fiction. Some people set the boundary as low as 200 words (since a story of 100 words is a Drabble, I suppose they don't want to get things mixed up) but we set the boundary at 1000 words.
Every story in Transformation is under 1000 words.
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From fantasy to contemporary, from tragedy to comedy, there's something for everyone here.
And it's free!
Find it at BN
Find it at Smashwords
Find it at Scribd
Smashwords also has Kindle (mobi) available, as well as other formats.
When you've downloaded your copy, come visit us.
Wendy Knight
Laura Bastian
Rebecca Blevins
Lauren Ritz
Laura has recently published her first novel, Eye on Orion.
Wendy's next book, Warrior Everlasting, will be coming out on May 6th.
Myself and a couple of my writer friends, including best selling author Wendy Knight, have done a book of short stories--very short.
It's called Flash Fiction. Some people set the boundary as low as 200 words (since a story of 100 words is a Drabble, I suppose they don't want to get things mixed up) but we set the boundary at 1000 words.
Every story in Transformation is under 1000 words.
.jpg){kind=spacer}
From fantasy to contemporary, from tragedy to comedy, there's something for everyone here.
And it's free!
Find it at BN
Find it at Smashwords
Find it at Scribd
Smashwords also has Kindle (mobi) available, as well as other formats.
When you've downloaded your copy, come visit us.
Wendy Knight
Laura Bastian
Rebecca Blevins
Lauren Ritz
Laura has recently published her first novel, Eye on Orion.
Wendy's next book, Warrior Everlasting, will be coming out on May 6th.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Spark of a Feudling, by Wendy Knight
In November of 2012, my friend Wendy was stressing over her first book--Feudlings. It almost immediately hit the top of the Amazon charts, and I got to watch (and laugh) as she stressed over that as well, watching her baby climb through the lists.
She proceeded to write two more Fate on Fire novels and a bunch of novellas/short stories about this same group of characters, and I love every one of them!
Now she's stressing over her newest book in the Fate on Fire series, Spark of a Feudling, which comes out today. So I get to laugh some more. This one is about Ada, the ancestor who started the three hundred year feud that Ari ended.
Hate can start a war, but a shattered heart can fuel it for centuries.
Everything Ada does is wrong. She’s the daughter of a Duke but she isn’t proper or formal. She prefers the company of her servants—particularly Christian, the boy she’s loved since she was six years old, and his sister, Charity, Ada’s very best friend in the entire world.
Ada isn’t just the daughter of a Duke. No, she’s the daughter of one of the most powerful Edren sorcerers alive, and no matter how strong she is, it isn’t strong enough. Ada will give up almost everything to earn her father’s pride.
Christian has loved Ada since the day his mother became her governess. But two societies are determined to keep them apart—the aristocracy who say a groom will never be good enough for a Duke’s beautiful daughter, and the sorcerers who say a Carules and an Edren can never be together. Christian will do anything to make Ada his—even drive himself to madness.
When Ada suspects her father of hurting Charity and Christian in his quest for knowledge, she is torn between loyalty to him, and a fierce determination to protect them. The division tears her soul and breaks her heart.
The pieces of her broken heart will start a war that can only be stopped by the death of the most powerful warrior alive by the hand of the boy who loves her.
Spark of a Feudling includes a bonus story, Feudlings in Peace. Join Ari, Shane, Ada, Christian and everyone they love as they chase their happily ever after.
****
Excerpt of Spark of a Feudling:
He sprinted down the path, into the forest, leaping over huge rocks and tree roots and through streams he couldn’t see but his magic told him were there. He had no idea where he was going, but there seemed to be a tether from his heart to hers — he always knew where Ada was. He ran straight to them, nearly colliding with her father’s guards as he raced through the thick trees.
“What happened to her?” he bellowed, jerking Ada out of Davis’s bloodstained arms.
“She was hit, saving me,” Harrison answered. “Can you help her?”
If there had been time, any time at all, Christian would have paused at that. How exactly had his tiny little Ada saved the giant Harrison? But there wasn’t time. He laid her on the thick grass, searching for the wound. But there was so much blood.
“There!” Davis snapped, jabbing the air above her stomach.
Flames roiled across Christian’s hands and he held them above her, letting the flames soothe the skin before he tried to touch it. They swirled through the air, seeping and mending the broken, charred skin.
“Does she breathe?” Harrison asked, crouching close to put his face next to her mouth.
Christian ignored him. He didn’t care if she breathed or not.
She would breathe, or he would die with her.
“She does.” Harrison sat back, relieved.
“Can you not heal at all? Stop the blood flow from her shoulder!” Christian snapped.
Harrison gaped at him. “We’re Edren. We don’t heal.”
“I’m Carules and I can throw a lirik if need be,” Christian muttered under his breath, but he couldn’t argue with them now.
She moaned.
They all froze in shock, and then redoubled their efforts. Davis jerked his shirt off and held it to her shoulder while Christian’s blue flames leaped and danced from his hands, fighting the poison eating through her body.
“Christian. I knew—” she whispered as her skin healed, leaving only pink burns behind.
“Shhh. Don’t speak. You’re still very weak.” He moved from her stomach to her shoulder, pushing Davis’ shirt out of the way. It was stiff with dried blood and she shrieked when he ripped it from the wound. “Forgive me, dear one,” he whispered, his mouth near her temple, kissing the pain away. “Forgive me.”
“I knew… you would come. I knew you… could heal me.” Her eyes fluttered open, dazed with pain, dark orbs barely reflecting the moonlight.
“Always, Ada. Forever.”
Wendy Knight is the bestselling author of the young adult series' Fate on Fire and Riders of Paradesos. She was born and raised in Utah by a wonderful family who spoiled her rotten because she was the baby. Now she spends her time driving her husband crazy with her many eccentricities (no water after five, terror when faced with a live phone call, no touching the knives…you get the idea). She also enjoys chasing her three adorable kids, playing tennis, watching football, reading, and hiking. Camping is also big—her family is slowly working toward a goal of seeing all the National Parks in the U.S.
You can usually find her with at least one Pepsi nearby, wearing ridiculously high heels for whatever the occasion. And if everything works out just right, she will also be writing.
Social Media Links:
Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
She proceeded to write two more Fate on Fire novels and a bunch of novellas/short stories about this same group of characters, and I love every one of them!
Now she's stressing over her newest book in the Fate on Fire series, Spark of a Feudling, which comes out today. So I get to laugh some more. This one is about Ada, the ancestor who started the three hundred year feud that Ari ended.
Hate can start a war, but a shattered heart can fuel it for centuries.
Everything Ada does is wrong. She’s the daughter of a Duke but she isn’t proper or formal. She prefers the company of her servants—particularly Christian, the boy she’s loved since she was six years old, and his sister, Charity, Ada’s very best friend in the entire world.
Ada isn’t just the daughter of a Duke. No, she’s the daughter of one of the most powerful Edren sorcerers alive, and no matter how strong she is, it isn’t strong enough. Ada will give up almost everything to earn her father’s pride.
Christian has loved Ada since the day his mother became her governess. But two societies are determined to keep them apart—the aristocracy who say a groom will never be good enough for a Duke’s beautiful daughter, and the sorcerers who say a Carules and an Edren can never be together. Christian will do anything to make Ada his—even drive himself to madness.
When Ada suspects her father of hurting Charity and Christian in his quest for knowledge, she is torn between loyalty to him, and a fierce determination to protect them. The division tears her soul and breaks her heart.
The pieces of her broken heart will start a war that can only be stopped by the death of the most powerful warrior alive by the hand of the boy who loves her.
Spark of a Feudling includes a bonus story, Feudlings in Peace. Join Ari, Shane, Ada, Christian and everyone they love as they chase their happily ever after.
****
Excerpt of Spark of a Feudling:
He sprinted down the path, into the forest, leaping over huge rocks and tree roots and through streams he couldn’t see but his magic told him were there. He had no idea where he was going, but there seemed to be a tether from his heart to hers — he always knew where Ada was. He ran straight to them, nearly colliding with her father’s guards as he raced through the thick trees.
“What happened to her?” he bellowed, jerking Ada out of Davis’s bloodstained arms.
“She was hit, saving me,” Harrison answered. “Can you help her?”
If there had been time, any time at all, Christian would have paused at that. How exactly had his tiny little Ada saved the giant Harrison? But there wasn’t time. He laid her on the thick grass, searching for the wound. But there was so much blood.
“There!” Davis snapped, jabbing the air above her stomach.
Flames roiled across Christian’s hands and he held them above her, letting the flames soothe the skin before he tried to touch it. They swirled through the air, seeping and mending the broken, charred skin.
“Does she breathe?” Harrison asked, crouching close to put his face next to her mouth.
Christian ignored him. He didn’t care if she breathed or not.
She would breathe, or he would die with her.
“She does.” Harrison sat back, relieved.
“Can you not heal at all? Stop the blood flow from her shoulder!” Christian snapped.
Harrison gaped at him. “We’re Edren. We don’t heal.”
“I’m Carules and I can throw a lirik if need be,” Christian muttered under his breath, but he couldn’t argue with them now.
She moaned.
They all froze in shock, and then redoubled their efforts. Davis jerked his shirt off and held it to her shoulder while Christian’s blue flames leaped and danced from his hands, fighting the poison eating through her body.
“Christian. I knew—” she whispered as her skin healed, leaving only pink burns behind.
“Shhh. Don’t speak. You’re still very weak.” He moved from her stomach to her shoulder, pushing Davis’ shirt out of the way. It was stiff with dried blood and she shrieked when he ripped it from the wound. “Forgive me, dear one,” he whispered, his mouth near her temple, kissing the pain away. “Forgive me.”
“I knew… you would come. I knew you… could heal me.” Her eyes fluttered open, dazed with pain, dark orbs barely reflecting the moonlight.
“Always, Ada. Forever.”
Wendy Knight is the bestselling author of the young adult series' Fate on Fire and Riders of Paradesos. She was born and raised in Utah by a wonderful family who spoiled her rotten because she was the baby. Now she spends her time driving her husband crazy with her many eccentricities (no water after five, terror when faced with a live phone call, no touching the knives…you get the idea). She also enjoys chasing her three adorable kids, playing tennis, watching football, reading, and hiking. Camping is also big—her family is slowly working toward a goal of seeing all the National Parks in the U.S.
You can usually find her with at least one Pepsi nearby, wearing ridiculously high heels for whatever the occasion. And if everything works out just right, she will also be writing.
Social Media Links:
Blog
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Cold feet
Spring is sprung! The grass is riz! what is bloomin? The flowers is!
Well, not quite yet. And I just threw away a pair of socks (holey socks!) so my feet are cold. Hence the title.
At the moment I'm feeling a little lazy. My cat is demanding my attention but I'm sitting here staring out the window.
And of course, there are stories running through my head. I worked on Fairy Ring yesterday and it turned in a surprising direction. Two of the other books in the series are out, but I need to work on a new cover for the first before making it perma-free. The cover for the third book is in transition.
So at the moment I am actively writing Fairy Ring and Let It Go, re-vamping DemonBorn, editing Guardian and Heart of the Castle and trying to figure out the marketing thing. I have Axon, Seshallass and Glory Road that I'm thinking about when there's nothing else running through my head and a dozen others that try to squeeze in at odd moments, screaming to get my attention and demanding I work on them next.
An author's life, I guess.
Excerpt from BayStorm, a novella set in the Demons Bay world. This is the same world as the DemonBorn series, Heart of the Castle, and Guardian. Heart of the Castle should be the next book out.
She should have been terrified. Instead she stared up into the dark pit of the vortex, wondering what it would be like to die.
With a growling surge the thunder wrapped around her. Mutters and screams in the thunder were certainly only her imagination. If she died she would no longer be a threat. The curse would die with her.
She raised her hands, stared into the black maw surrounded by rainbow lightning, and begged it to take her.
For a moment the winds died. The air tightened around her, making her breath come short. The air around her heated, and darkened until she seemed to be staring up a narrow tunnel toward a black sun.
Abruptly the funnel reversed itself, darting down toward the ground faster than she could follow. Darkness followed the lightning, dragging it back toward the funnel, and the wind returned to yank her off her feet.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
DemonBorn Update
A few years ago (for NaNo, of course) I wrote DemonBorn. I was so excited about it that I started writing the sequel (UnderHill) in December (*wince*) and finished the third in the series about mid-year. I'm now working on number five, and the middle three are pretty good. Not perfect yet, but getting there.
The problem is that the first book is a disaster. When I wrote it I thought it was great, I was excited about the characters (who show up in later books) but there was just something...wrong. Three years later I'm still working on book one and it's not there yet.
There were originally three main storylines, and eight POV characters in a book that's less than 70k. When I started this most recent rewrite I knew I had to make some hard decisions. The problem is, I love these characters and I don't want to eliminate any of them. Also, one major storyline starts twenty years or so before the story begins (which might end up being another novel later on, but I can't think about that right now). I've already cut out three unnecessary POV's (although not the characters) and two sub-plots that just made a hash of the whole thing.
OK, so here I am with a gordian plot, and I'm afraid that the only way to unravel it is to take a sword to it. I hope not, but if that's necessary it will be better for the operation.
I'm excited to find out what it looks like when it's done.
*****
If you caught the historical/mythological reference, let me know in the comments or on my Facebook author page (LaurenRitzTheWriter) for a chance to win either a novel critique or a copy of one of my books.
Excerpt from DemonBorn:
Shadyel turned her head to let one of her side-set eyes focus on a space in the circle her team had formed around her, the place of least prestige immediately opposite from where she floated in the shifting water of the lake. Her hands moved in the familiar ameso sign language, larger than normal because she was angry. Where is Tiyet?
The others' hands fluttered without meaning. Sunlight sprayed in curious ripples from the surface of the lake above them, obscuring some motions and accentuating others. Trees wavered beyond, two moons almost indistinguishable from the clouds.
Not able to get away, Giyac reported after a short pause, his hand-signs very small as if he wanted to avoid Shadyel's notice. The identifying pattern of scars along his arms in ameso form almost made him seem to fade into the water behind him.
Shadyel indicated her contempt for the absent ameso woman, fingers almost shouting the words. No excuse.
She turned her head, looking to her second, but Oyai was staring up through the water. All gazes followed, to see the faint outline of a human standing on the dock.
The problem is that the first book is a disaster. When I wrote it I thought it was great, I was excited about the characters (who show up in later books) but there was just something...wrong. Three years later I'm still working on book one and it's not there yet.
There were originally three main storylines, and eight POV characters in a book that's less than 70k. When I started this most recent rewrite I knew I had to make some hard decisions. The problem is, I love these characters and I don't want to eliminate any of them. Also, one major storyline starts twenty years or so before the story begins (which might end up being another novel later on, but I can't think about that right now). I've already cut out three unnecessary POV's (although not the characters) and two sub-plots that just made a hash of the whole thing.
OK, so here I am with a gordian plot, and I'm afraid that the only way to unravel it is to take a sword to it. I hope not, but if that's necessary it will be better for the operation.
I'm excited to find out what it looks like when it's done.
*****
If you caught the historical/mythological reference, let me know in the comments or on my Facebook author page (LaurenRitzTheWriter) for a chance to win either a novel critique or a copy of one of my books.
Excerpt from DemonBorn:
Shadyel turned her head to let one of her side-set eyes focus on a space in the circle her team had formed around her, the place of least prestige immediately opposite from where she floated in the shifting water of the lake. Her hands moved in the familiar ameso sign language, larger than normal because she was angry. Where is Tiyet?
The others' hands fluttered without meaning. Sunlight sprayed in curious ripples from the surface of the lake above them, obscuring some motions and accentuating others. Trees wavered beyond, two moons almost indistinguishable from the clouds.
Not able to get away, Giyac reported after a short pause, his hand-signs very small as if he wanted to avoid Shadyel's notice. The identifying pattern of scars along his arms in ameso form almost made him seem to fade into the water behind him.
Shadyel indicated her contempt for the absent ameso woman, fingers almost shouting the words. No excuse.
She turned her head, looking to her second, but Oyai was staring up through the water. All gazes followed, to see the faint outline of a human standing on the dock.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Economic Stimulus (A short story)
"Jerry, you get back here!" Liza sighed, stopped the loaded cart with some difficulty. The front wheel tended to turn at the exact wrong moment, and sure enough when she pulled back on the shopping cart handle it swerved into a display of kitchen utensils.
"Jerry! Do I have to put the leash back on you?"
He was too old for the leash. It was currently being used to tether his four year old brother to the shopping cart handle.
PB (Short for Peanut Butter, since that’s all he would eat at the moment) stood there sucking on his finger and staring down at the mess.
Jerry wandered back over.
"Jerry, help me with this." Making sure that the baby was secured (she had three escape artists on her hands, and she was NOT going to be saddled with another one. Maybe) she bent and started restacking the display, rather haphazardly, just piling the stuff back into the spaces with no concern for where things were supposed to go.
Nearly finished, she looked up, alarmed at the silence.
"Jerry?"
To her surprise, he was just at the end of the aisle. She got the cart started again and moved in that direction. He turned as she approached, pointing. "What’s that, Mom?"
Liza sighed. "I’m going to need another cart." She looked around, rather vaguely, and stuck the binky back in the baby’s mouth.
"But what is it?"
"The president says it’s going to help the economy."
Jerry looked at the big blank box labeled “Economic Stimulus.” Small print on one corner of the box stated Some Assembly Required.
"But what is it?"
"I don’t know, Jerry. The president said we all need to buy one to help the economy. Go get another cart, will you?"
With another sigh, she stared at the display next to it, clearly labeled "Health Care."
"Buy, buy, buy," she muttered. "Sight unseen, doesn’t matter, we’ll find out what’s in it later. Doesn’t matter that I’m on a tight budget and can’t afford to buy a pig in a poke."
She smiled as Jerry pushed another cart down the aisle. She smiled at him as she piled one of each into the cart. "Doesn’t matter that no one else is buying it. Come on. Let’s get home and put this thing together. Let’s find out what we bought."
* * *
Jerry darted into his bedroom, and she let PB off his leash. With a squeal, he ran after his brother.
Liza sighed and carted in the groceries, and then the two big, anonymous boxes. Suspecting she’d need it she got out the tool box. "Jerry!" she shouted across the house. "Where’s the Allen wrench?"
No answer. Not that it mattered at the moment. She might not need it. The president had promised it would be simple. The radio droned in the background, just noise.
She opened the first box, peered in, and almost panicked. She fished through anonymous pieces thrown randomly in the box, and finally looked around at an acre of plastic and metal on her living room floor. She winced as she realized that one piece was leaking oil. "No instructions?"
The radio static finally penetrated, the chirpy voice of the announcer finishing up today’s spiel. "And today, the President has announced another Economic Stimulus package. It will be on shelves in one week, and everyone needs to buy one."
Liza wanted to shoot the radio, but she settled for turning it off.
The president could spit in his own eye, and stimulate the economy himself as well. She didn’t have the money for it, or the patience. Well, at least the president was doing something. When dealing with politicians or children, silence meant they were up to mischief.
"Jerry?" Silence.
"Jerry! Do I have to put the leash back on you?"
He was too old for the leash. It was currently being used to tether his four year old brother to the shopping cart handle.
PB (Short for Peanut Butter, since that’s all he would eat at the moment) stood there sucking on his finger and staring down at the mess.
Jerry wandered back over.
"Jerry, help me with this." Making sure that the baby was secured (she had three escape artists on her hands, and she was NOT going to be saddled with another one. Maybe) she bent and started restacking the display, rather haphazardly, just piling the stuff back into the spaces with no concern for where things were supposed to go.
Nearly finished, she looked up, alarmed at the silence.
"Jerry?"
To her surprise, he was just at the end of the aisle. She got the cart started again and moved in that direction. He turned as she approached, pointing. "What’s that, Mom?"
Liza sighed. "I’m going to need another cart." She looked around, rather vaguely, and stuck the binky back in the baby’s mouth.
"But what is it?"
"The president says it’s going to help the economy."
Jerry looked at the big blank box labeled “Economic Stimulus.” Small print on one corner of the box stated Some Assembly Required.
"But what is it?"
"I don’t know, Jerry. The president said we all need to buy one to help the economy. Go get another cart, will you?"
With another sigh, she stared at the display next to it, clearly labeled "Health Care."
"Buy, buy, buy," she muttered. "Sight unseen, doesn’t matter, we’ll find out what’s in it later. Doesn’t matter that I’m on a tight budget and can’t afford to buy a pig in a poke."
She smiled as Jerry pushed another cart down the aisle. She smiled at him as she piled one of each into the cart. "Doesn’t matter that no one else is buying it. Come on. Let’s get home and put this thing together. Let’s find out what we bought."
* * *
Jerry darted into his bedroom, and she let PB off his leash. With a squeal, he ran after his brother.
Liza sighed and carted in the groceries, and then the two big, anonymous boxes. Suspecting she’d need it she got out the tool box. "Jerry!" she shouted across the house. "Where’s the Allen wrench?"
No answer. Not that it mattered at the moment. She might not need it. The president had promised it would be simple. The radio droned in the background, just noise.
She opened the first box, peered in, and almost panicked. She fished through anonymous pieces thrown randomly in the box, and finally looked around at an acre of plastic and metal on her living room floor. She winced as she realized that one piece was leaking oil. "No instructions?"
The radio static finally penetrated, the chirpy voice of the announcer finishing up today’s spiel. "And today, the President has announced another Economic Stimulus package. It will be on shelves in one week, and everyone needs to buy one."
Liza wanted to shoot the radio, but she settled for turning it off.
The president could spit in his own eye, and stimulate the economy himself as well. She didn’t have the money for it, or the patience. Well, at least the president was doing something. When dealing with politicians or children, silence meant they were up to mischief.
"Jerry?" Silence.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Galileo
In the time of Galileo, many people believed strongly that the Earth was the center of the Universe.
By observation they had determined that the sun went around the Earth--it rose every morning, rolled across the sky and sank every night. Irrefutable evidence. In watching the stars they realized that the planets made odd patterns, not perfect circles around the Earth, and they made up elaborate explanations for why this was so.
Their beliefs were supported by evidence as they knew it.
Galileo blew all of that out of the water, and was killed for it. Not because he spoke truth, not because he spoke lies, but because he spoke truth that those in power did not want to acknowledge.
When Columbus spoke of "sailing west to get to the east," he was also laughed at. Sailors knew the world was round, but the scientific coterie (which was mostly landed aristocrats, since they were the only people who could waste valuable time on experimentation) insisted it was flat. Again, they came up with convoluted explanations that supported their understanding of the world.
We think science has advanced since then. We see ourselves sitting at the peak of a mountain range of scientific knowledge, the masters of all we survey. What we're really doing is squatting at the base of the foothills marveling at an anthill.
Unfortunately, I see a scientific organization that doesn't want to acknowledge that they don't already know it all. New ideas are discouraged. Anything that refutes the currently accepted knowledge is ruthlessly squashed without attempting to prove or disprove because everyone (i.e., all those who matter) already knows that it's nonsense.
People will come up with all kinds of reasons, but it boils down to a few points:
A The discoverer didn't have the right credentials
B The information wasn't published in a "refereed" journal, which it couldn't be anyway because
C The information directly contradicted something that was commonly believed
Anyone who supports or attempts to work with these "discoveries" is suppressed as well, and with the same logic. Discoverers are ignored, supporters discredited and ideas that might have advanced science disappear into the cracks of society. I might go so far as to say that they are martyred in the name of science.
Still, there are a few who walk against the tide, working on their own ideas in basements and garages, unacknowledged. Like Galileo, they pave the way for man to look up rather than down, forward rather than back. As at every other point in history it will be these adventurers who allow us to advance, if advancement is possible.
I hope they continue, because when they are all silenced the dark ages will return.
By observation they had determined that the sun went around the Earth--it rose every morning, rolled across the sky and sank every night. Irrefutable evidence. In watching the stars they realized that the planets made odd patterns, not perfect circles around the Earth, and they made up elaborate explanations for why this was so.
Their beliefs were supported by evidence as they knew it.
Galileo blew all of that out of the water, and was killed for it. Not because he spoke truth, not because he spoke lies, but because he spoke truth that those in power did not want to acknowledge.
When Columbus spoke of "sailing west to get to the east," he was also laughed at. Sailors knew the world was round, but the scientific coterie (which was mostly landed aristocrats, since they were the only people who could waste valuable time on experimentation) insisted it was flat. Again, they came up with convoluted explanations that supported their understanding of the world.
We think science has advanced since then. We see ourselves sitting at the peak of a mountain range of scientific knowledge, the masters of all we survey. What we're really doing is squatting at the base of the foothills marveling at an anthill.
Unfortunately, I see a scientific organization that doesn't want to acknowledge that they don't already know it all. New ideas are discouraged. Anything that refutes the currently accepted knowledge is ruthlessly squashed without attempting to prove or disprove because everyone (i.e., all those who matter) already knows that it's nonsense.
People will come up with all kinds of reasons, but it boils down to a few points:
A The discoverer didn't have the right credentials
B The information wasn't published in a "refereed" journal, which it couldn't be anyway because
C The information directly contradicted something that was commonly believed
Anyone who supports or attempts to work with these "discoveries" is suppressed as well, and with the same logic. Discoverers are ignored, supporters discredited and ideas that might have advanced science disappear into the cracks of society. I might go so far as to say that they are martyred in the name of science.
Still, there are a few who walk against the tide, working on their own ideas in basements and garages, unacknowledged. Like Galileo, they pave the way for man to look up rather than down, forward rather than back. As at every other point in history it will be these adventurers who allow us to advance, if advancement is possible.
I hope they continue, because when they are all silenced the dark ages will return.
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