Sunday, August 29, 2010

Super Writers of the Universe AND FRIENDS Sept 25 2010

Super Writers of the Universe and Friends

Where:Barnes & Noble Bookstore, Jordan Landing in West Jordan - 7157 Plaza Center Drive, West Jordan, UT 84084 801-282-1324 Or call Michael 801.499.4594
When:Saturday, September 25 from 11:00 am to 1:00 pm
September 25 · 11:00am - 1:00pm

LocationBarnes & Noble Bookstore, Jordan Landing in West Jordan - 7157 Plaza Center Drive, West Jordan, UT 84084 801-282-1324 Or call micahel 801.499.4594

Created By

More Info
John Brown, TRACY HICKMAN, LARRY CORREIA, DAVID FARLAND, BRAD TORGERSEN, Dan Willis, Jaleta Clegg, Eric James Stone, Howard Tayler +2 more we have to confirm.

Free Book Signing Event Featuring Science Fiction/Fantasy Authors:
John Brown (Servant of a Dark God), Tracy Hickman (Dragonlance,
...Dragonsbard, X-treme Dungeon Mastery), Larry Correia (Monster Hunter International), David Farland (Runelords), Brad Torgerson, Dan Willis (Dragonlance: The New Adventures), Jaleta Clegg (Nexus Point), Eric James Stone (numerous short stories), Howard Tayler (Schlock Mercenary).

Watch for upcoming announcements on more authors attending this great event!

What is and what will be. Hammer of Protius

How to account for the world is simple for us: It exists or doesn't. We can, though, see a place to cause things to exist. It means that we can see into a future. We can predict what can happen. We can guess. We can make what are called inferred logical jumps. We can skip step 2 to see the miracle happen in step three. If this wasn't the case it would be hard for us to exist at all. How would we hunt? So many random acts happen in a day that it could be paralyzing to contemplate all the things that could possibly happen.

"Zed, Zed, Zed" the automated message whizzed out of the  probe through a radio signal  every three hours. This probe was simple in appearance. It had few functions, but quite a bit of processing power. It was one of hundreds that landed on this barren, cold, remote planet ten years ago. It networked with its brothers, and together they reported the weather conditions that they were experiencing. This probe also recorded its position as it moved across this sand-and-boulder covered landscape it now called home. It reported to the orbiting satellite that collected and compiled, and then sent summaries on to the probe's creators who wanted to find out more about this world.

The probe was the size of softball. It had three extensions it could use to walk, right itself, and send signals with. It was equipped with a camera that could view the spectrum from ultra-violet through infra-red. Its processing power was heuristic and networked with the other surface probes.

Earth years passed and information was collected and complied, and as this was done the weather of this planet became clear.

edited by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Friday, August 27, 2010

The Best Location in the Nation... Again by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Note: This is a vignette, and is part of a challenge I have taken up. The challenge is to write interesting stories of our future without some bleak post-Holocaust setting. This story is America in 2110, when the world's population has declined from a peak of 11 billion in 2050 down to 9 billion, but it didn't take a disaster to make this happen -- instead the world's population became 90% prosperous urban, and people just found more interesting things to do than have babies. This is about a world that is a comfortable place.

As I flew into Cleveland to visit grandma, I saw some new quite noticeable buildings – large domes – in the heart of the city down by the Cuyahoga River – the area known as The Flats.  I checked my PDA and found out they were, of all things, steel mills!
Steel mills! Yes, in the 1920’s The Flats grew into a steel-making center of the world, but Cleveland’s steel mills had died a rusty death in the 1970’s as 20th century America’s Steel Belt had transformed into the Rust Belt.  Now they were back, but in a whole new way. This could be interesting.
As I was driving to grandma’s I scheduled myself to take a tour before I went home. When I told the family, all got interested, including grandma.
“My Goodness!” she said, “I haven’t been downtown for… ten years? The last time was to see that Rock and Roll museum when they inducted… now I don’t even remember!  …I remember that was the last one, though, when they finished, they moved the whole kit-and-kaboodle out to New York City – said there wasn’t enough interest here.” She laughed, and she was happy to come see what had changed since then, so we made it a family outing.
There was lots of traffic as we made our way to The Flats, and the roads were in good shape, but there were few cars – cars meaning those things that carry humans in them.  The traffic was almost all trucks of many kinds with a few creation shuttles mixed in.
“How interesting.” grandma said as we pulled into the parking lot, “This is the Rock and Roll museum building.”  It was a beautiful location, right next to the lake with a wonderful view of both the lake and the Cleveland skyline.
The tour guide was a creation designed specifically for PR with humans, but different than the usual PR-creation type.  Rather than an android look, it had a robot-looking exterior inspired by Robbie the Robot of 1950’s movie fame, but unlike that movie robot the voice was quick and pleasant to listen to.
“This building is now the visitor center for the New Flats Steel Complex.” the PR bot explained, “Cleveland is still, geographically, one of the best locations in the nation for producing steel.  This plan has been a long time in the making, and five years ago we negotiated with the last humans living near The Flats to help them relocate elsewhere.  A few chose the suburbs of Cleveland; most chose one of the more major human metro areas.  Whichever they chose, we helped them get very nice accommodations, and when they left, we began redeveloping The Flat’s steel-making potential.”
“There are no humans left in Cleveland?” said grandma incredulously.
“Oh, there are still ten thousand left.” the bot assured my grandma, “but they are now all far from The Flats in places such as University Circle and Kamm’s Corners.”
“…Just ten thousand now.” grandma said wistfully, “There were a hundred thousand when I married your grandfather, and half a million at its peak in the 1950’s. It was the sixth largest city in the nation then, you know, just behind Detroit. How times have changed.”
“And changed for the better.” said the bot brightly, “As our construction finishes here The Flats will produce five times the steel it did in its 20th century heyday, but this time with only a tenth of the pollution.  We have come a long way.”
“You don’t need any people to make steel?” I asked.
“Not any more.  The process is well understood, and the work to do so is still difficult, dangerous and dirty, so it is now entirely automated and entirely in the hands of industrial creations.  This is why The Flats is now so attractive once again – the geography has always been good, and now that we don’t have the cost disadvantage of supporting human peculiarities such as zoning laws and pensions, we can once again take advantage of this wonderful geography.”
“Why do you have domes this time?” I continued.
“That’s a good question, but it’s well covered in our VR tour.  May I recommend that you all experience that?  Then I’ll be happy to answer more questions.”
We took the tour, and we all learned a lot.  It was impressively interactive.  My tour was mostly of pictures of things happening in the domes, and it was impressive to watch all the machines moving around, and the red hot pots of pig iron and the gleaming bands of steel coming out as finished product.  Jeremy, my younger brother, who’s planning to go to MIT, got a tour that covered a lot about the chemical processes in steel making.  He saw lots of graphs and charts. Grandma’s tour focused on nostalgia – it was a history of steel making on The Flats, with old black and white photos and lots about the old steel barons of last century.  It took an hour, and we all got interesting tours.
At the end, Jeremy and I had some questions.  I asked, “Why are the mills in domes this time?”
The bot answered smoothly, “Since people don’t have to be near the process, we don’t cool the environment around the furnaces as much. The domes are hellish hot inside, and even warm to the touch on the outside.  The domes protect the environment from the heat and toxic wastes that are produced along with the steel. Those wastes are then gathered and sequestered in the old salt mines under the city.”
“I remember hearing about those.” chirped up grandma.
“They have been put to good use again, just like The Flats have.” chimed in the bot.
Jeremy said, “I notice that this modern process takes only a fifth as much coal as the 1930’s processes, but just as much limestone.  Why is that?”
The bot answered smoothly, “Much of the coal used in the 1930’s process was providing heat.  We are now using alternative energy to do that.”
“You mean like windmills and solar power?”
The bot was a little slow answering this time, “…Alternative.  We get our power from many sources.”
Jeremy pressed, “Wind and solar these days are optimized for electrical generation. If you use electricity to heat the raw materials, you lose all that efficiency you were just telling us about.”
The bot was cornered, and knew it, and relented, “The alternate energy we use the most of is nuclear.  Each of those domes contains a large nuclear reactor as part of its steel making process. This is how we keep both the energy and environmental costs down, and this is why they are dome-shaped.”
“This is why this Flats Revitalization has been so long planned and only been implemented starting two years ago. Now that there are no people living within two miles of The Flats, we have permission to employ nuclear power, and this is why our production costs are now globally competitive again.”
We were all stunned.  I said, “So radiation is part of the toxic wastes that are sequestered under the city?”
“A vanishingly small part.  The vast majority of what goes down there is carbon dioxide.”
There was no more to say at the time, so we left.  But we were all very impressed with what the creations were doing… some of us were amazed, and some were scared.
-- The End --

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Tell me a ghost story about a real witch!-2

Jake was always there. He was like my dad or really my uncle in a way. When I went with my mom to a soccer game I could see him cheering in the stands. I always saw him with us. He was a ghost, but I put food on his grave. For fun I would always get him some doughnuts and coffee. Just thought it was funny in a way to make him a cliche in death as he was in life. It was ok though. I was a kid. You could see him eating the doughnuts though and the coffee I poured on his grave. It's true that if you attend a grave it makes spirits stronger. I don't know if it's the attention thing or praying at the grave, but it works. Latter I learned that Marlboro's would get me a letter hand written to get out a gym class from time to time, and a twelve year bottle of scotch, well that would get me primo intel on who was doing who in the school faculty. He called it "the four food groups".
Yeah he took money as a cop when he was alive and wasn't proud of it. 'You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, you didn't take it you got whacked, end of story. I took the money but I didn't take the bribe. One night they wanted me to look the other way, but how could I. This guy was an animal, but he was made, but what am I gonna do.  They have a code against that even in the organization, I had to do what I had to do, a week later I was cut up and sent to parts unknown. I was that way a long time till your mom found me, put me together, PTSD my ass. You ever been cut up while you where alive? They wanted to send a message, end of story."  That is his montra. Some ghost are particularly traumatized will say things over and over again. Takes centuries of talking to get it all out. Jake is steady when I need him though. He still isn't afraid of anything or anyone. He's the guy you send in when you need it close and fast. He doesn't read minds, but he can read people. Better they can read him. Jake never threatens anyone, he doesn't have to.
Jake spent his life protecting people, he has that with him in death too. He is never stronger then when he has someone to protect.  I am not married but the wedding ring I wear is his old one that was severed off him while he was still alive. It's better then GPS, still he always has me training. I thought he couldn't touch me, one day I was a little light on my manners and well, five minutes of wall to wall theropy, and I was all better in the mouth department. I wear his ring so he can touch me and I can touch him. See and then there is the other part of the deal. I have to listen to him, talk to him, cause as long as I wear his ring not nobody or nothing will touch me, but I still have to find a way to put him all back together so he can go see his wife one day.
When he is ready he will leave me, so he is going to make sure I am ready like it or not.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Future Timers Disease

"It's written on the walls at the edge of the Universe. Everything that was, everything that is, and everything that will have been."

Lenny Hollard would say this over and over again as he lay on his La-Z-Boy recliner -- drool painting his face and the front of his shirt. The nurses knew he would do this after being 'gone' for a week at a time. Lenny was now considered a house-plant patient -- you watered and fed it and it didn't do anything.
Lenny was a visionary of his time, but now he just stares off into space. He is unable to move or even feed himself. He has been losing weight even with his daughter, Lana, coming for regular visits. All his other family is dead, or can't bear to see him this way.
His oldest and best friend, Jackov, won't come. He says, "Please don't force me, Lana, I remember him as he was. He wouldn't want me to see him this way. He would rather have me push him into traffic than have me watch him like this. He is my friend."
It was sad, indeed. But when his daughter would stay with him things sometimes changed. She sometimes noticed him staring at her... following her movement... she knew he was there! Somewhere inside him was her father and she was determined to reach him.
She had it in her mind to try one day. She turned the TV off. She brought in his chalk board with all his old notes still on it. She got him his old laptop and started it up. She painted the walls the same color as his office. If he was there, she was going to talk to him!

"Daddy, I want to talk to you. I am here, if you can hear me. Remember you used to say, 'Time touches all of us, but leaves no fingerprints on the mind that is ready?'
"Remember daddy you said you wouldn't leave me ever?
"I need you to tell me you are here, daddy. Please! Daddy! Tell me you are here!"

But even after six days of trying, there was silence. She would take him outside and to the park, and talk to him constantly. Everyone else despaired that all Lenny was now was a house plant -- his heart pumped, but no one was home.
But on the seventh night:
Lana was getting him ready for bed. She had left a clipboard in his lap. Then quite by accident, after his mumbling his same paragraph, the hem of her dress caught the edge of the night stand and jerked it. A pen on it, with which she had been keeping notes about his medication, dropped towards the floor while she had her back to her father.
It didn't hit the floor though. When she turned to steady the stand, and stop a glass from spilling, she noticed a strange mathematical formula scrawled on the clipboard. 

It read... "infinity - infinity = infinity you sweetie."

He had grabbed the pen with his mind, and instantly wrote the words, and then he had died.

edited by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Brandon Sanderson will be on Sectorfiveradio on aug 28

Yep it's true we will have
Brandon Sanderson on August 28

Wanted for the haunted-incompleate but fun short ghost story

Live a good life, live it quick, die young. I use to believe that. I was 22 when I decided to dive down on a monster that had been eating people in the neighborhood. I am no Walter Weight, I am just one hundred and eighty pounds, five foot 10 and scrappy. This thing that I was talking about had decided that it was going to play monster under the bed. Ok now that I know, I probably would have decided to bring in an expert now, but hey I was only 22. You can't know everything like I did unless you are 22, and so here it goes.

I would teach martial arts at a local gym. No I wasn't "They call me Bruce" or anything close to that. When you get your black belt you basically are saying that you are ready to learn. I just need the money it gave me to buy books for school. School wasn't going so well at the time, since I had to do this gig and another job and that didn't cover my living expenses. One night I was closing the gym and one of the kids Joey Morgan was sitting on the end of the benches we have in the dojo dress to go home holding himself and rocking. He was a pretty new kid, 9-years-old. His mom wanted him to learn some 'discipline' and he needed a place to hang out a few nights a week while his mom worked as a waitress. So he is sitting there with his back pack and a hoody and some new school jeans. He is rocking himself, it's nine o'clock at night his mom hasn't picked him up yet. So I go ask him "What's up Joey?" he doesn't look up at me. He keeps staring down at the ground. "Nothing" Joey says to me. Now nothing can be nothing. But I see a lot of kids walk through this place. Most don't last more then a few months or so before they have to move. This dojo isn't in the best of neighborhoods. So nothing always means something. So I sit down on the floor on the lower bench then he is with my back to him, I say to him "I saw you today in class your going to go green here in a bit, you are really trying out there. I noticed. Your going to win state if you keep this up."  I didn't hear much from him. Except he started to cry a bit. I got up and walked over to our coke machine and hit the sweet spot and out rolled a brand new coke. I don't ever give kids soda normally but coke always seems to make me feel better. I opened the can, offered it to, him he refused. "Suit yourself, when is your mom comming to get you?"
"Sir," he said "Can you walk me home tonight?"
"I don't know Joey, I would have to call your mom."  I said.
"Um, Please..." he said. He pulled out a suran wrap  plastic bag with all kinds of change and a couple dollars in it. "I can give you this" he offered the bag to me. I don't take money from kids or women and especially my students no matter how old they are. I then noticed a red mark on his neck. I didn't notice it in class, he wore a t-shirt under he gee. My old instructor never allowed kids to wear t-shirts or anything else under the gee. He also didn't allow girls in his class. He was a very old Korean man, he fought in two wars. When you entered his place you left where you were you were now in Korea. You answered in Korean, his son would sometimes speak in english for more complicated things. Not to say he didn't speak English or wasn't a Ph.d
in philosophy, he was, but when your foot crossed his door you were in his world not in yours. I had know him since I was five years old. I secretly believed he had a painting of himself stashed somewhere that aged because he didn't seem to. He also floated when he kicked. I mean like three to five second suspend animation almost floated. I didn't agree with the things he did all the time, but now I understood a bit better.

When I saw that mark under his shirt, I wanted to have a talk with mom's new boyfriend.  You know the same kind of talk one man gives another man who likes to beat on a nine year old child.

"Um, we have to call your mom, first but sure I'll go with you how far do you live?" I asked. 

"Um just around the block in the Peter-man's Apartments." he replied. I opened the coke and left it on the bench with him. "Let me go into the office and call your mom ok?" I said.
"Ok," he said. I left him there, for a minute and went into the office shut the door. Called his mom.
"Mrs. Morgan this is Sydney Collarman, I have your son here at the Dojo with me..." then I was interrupted.
"I am so, so sorry, dear. I have been working late tonight, would you be a dear and drive him home for me? I'll pick up a few things on the way home, and we can all eat, and I will give you twenty dollars, for all your help." she was fast and good. I would have done it no matter what, but free real food and $20!  I was in.
"Sure thing ma'am.See you in a bit." I got the instructions to find the place, It was just really around the corner so me and Joey went for a little walk. --end episode 1 Wanted for the Haunted. Michael tanner

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Penta Logical ...magic mechanics-modern magic fantasy

Oh alright...lay down the laws of the universe and someone says..."Well what if we do this?". The first to rule to the laws of the universe is that there are no rules. You have guide lines. So even though you should not summon powers or mess with fate, you can, but buyer beware. You might have to live up to the consequences of what you are doing but other beings may not. If you want to have a relatively safe life then you don't need to mess with spells or rituals or anything else. There is a reason you go to church and rituals are performed there. This for the other beings that watch this action by mortals respect this as someone else's turf. The souls inside it are basically  on sovereign ground. If you watch carefully you will notice that on many churches there are symbols and other things that come down from a long time ago. This is not by accident.

The old gods are not gone, but some have decided to let 'humans be humans'. It is all about perspective. How long has it been since gods have walked the earth? Do you know?
Better question is how would you know? If you think about it many gods look human. They think of humans as children, pets, or resources.  Gods care about each and everyone of you, for those and more reasons.  That's why you don't see a lot of direct interaction between humans and the divine. Any direct contact with humans invites other contact with humans. Don't believe it? Ok let's say a battle ship were to go off into the pacific and fire 40 rounds and say "we have had no activity in that area." Other countries would not believe it. They would send ships to find out what is happening. They would insist that we inform them of other things we were doing in the area. They would clamor for information. If a divine does the same thing others powers notice. They wonder what is happening. This often threatens the mortals life.
How would I know?

Let's just say I have a special perspective. I sit on low. No not that low. No sympathy for the unnamed one.
I am more of a pacifist. I didn't take sides in many of the great wars. Let;'s just say I am a spiritual conscientious objector, and leave it at that. Not to say I wouldn't be above performing 'works' but more to the point, you can say I have dipped my wings into the blood of mortals more then one time and had my fill.
I didn't fall I left. I don't think that's what everyone wanted, but during the great crisis I tended to the wounded, and help humanity become humanity.  It was no accident that a certain scientist got he sheets washed in boiling vinegar during a plague. Or that an apple didn't fall to far from a tree. I have worked with children to speak to truth at times to leaders of men. Timing is everything. What is time though to powers that have no concept of liner time?
It is easy to find me for the right person. You just can't have any self desires for it. You have to want to do it for someone else, to have someone to protect. The flaming sword of eternity is yours to wield, but to ask.
Long ago you could find me in a lake, now I am but a dream of a memory. In Poland I held an army to stick in place so that it could not kill anyone for long enough for the evil to die.
I place knowlege in hands of those without, you can find me in many ways. I am the candlelight of destiny.

signed - Raphael

Friday, August 20, 2010

Tell me a ghost story...about a real witch-1

Ghosts don't look all faded. They don't hang out at night waiting for people to take video of them with infa red. They really never even try scare anyone. Most of the time ghost that are people, have problems. We don't know what kinds of problems until we ask, but getting to that point might be difficult.

I am Sandy Chase. I don't know how or why but I started to see the world differently from the time I was born. I didn't know it was that different because my brother could see ghosts and things too. It was a game we use to play. Seeing and hearing ghosts and people is different from knowing what they want or need. As we grew up we started to know that like people some ghosts were mean. Some were sad, and some just wanted to hang around someone that could understand them. 

I am Five Foot Seven, blue eyes red hair, extremely cute if I don't say so myself. I am 27 years old.I live in an old church that I grew up in with my mother in what used to be a Detroit. Now is littered with old abandoned houses. People moved away from here after the car companies all but left. In my house you can find several people that live here with us. When I say people I mean I am the only one left alive here, but ghosts are people too. I stay here to watch out for those people, and they watch out for me. It's nice to have a couple of ex-cops that hang around, but don't eat or sleep, they make a girl feel safe at night. The church is considered hallowed ground. Old Catholic with all the touches including Mother Clarice, the spirit who still is with me and draws power from the relics here in the church. She is more a mother to me in many ways then my real mom. She walked me to school, taught me Latin, and some other languages. Of course she never approved of 'that public school' but home schooling would have brought state inspectors, and not to happy residents.Plus explaining the 'Garden' would have been difficult if not impossible. So I went to public school. Again often times with undead police escort. Like it or not no way was I getting out of having a keeper, I could see the dead they could see me and the chances that I am alone with out protection was 'not going to happen, young lady.' Jake Street my unofficial uncle and body guard. Mind you he would let me get the stuffing beat out of me if I got in a fight. "You gotta clinch sometimes, I watch that left." Jake would say to me while I would have Cindy Mockers the resident amazon dike bitch beat me to an inch of my life.

"It's not so bad. Look one day you will thank me for letting you fight your own battles. My old man would be on me if I didn't  get into fights. You got to learn to handle yourself and get control." Jake would admonish me, then take me down and show me a few things. When I turned sixteen he had me dig up a knife. It was a switch blade.
"You ever need to use this finish the job. Don't ever think you need to apologize young lady. Take it put it in the guys leg and twist. If I am not there, you need to be able to handle yourself." he said.

Sectorfiveradio: Space is a big place-episode one-talk about it.

Sectorfiveradio: Space is a big place-episode one-talk about it.: "'Space is vast. It's quiet. If you get lost you may find your self running away from being alone. Often times people now struggle to find fo..."

Free job, just add money.

There are quite a few people out there that don't have jobs. They sit at home everyday and worry how they will pay the bills. Some people get assistance but many don't. Still people worry about what will come while they do nothing about it.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Sectorfiveradio: Space is a big place-episode one-talk about it.

Sectorfiveradio: Space is a big place-episode one-talk about it.: "'Space is vast. It's quiet. If you get lost you may find your self running away from being alone. Often times people now struggle to find fo..."

Space is a big place-episode one

"Space is vast. It's quiet. If you get
lost you may find your self running away from being alone. Often
times people now struggle to find food, or water, or even a bit of
twisted metal to call home. You never get everything you want in
life. Some people are heroes to their people and live to long, that's
when it becomes really easy to make them the bad guy in order to have
'a lasting peace among the stars'. I never really was one of those
people that got along in groups and crowds. I also never wanted to be
violent. I live alone on this rock of a home with my version of a
garage and a hot rod. Well really it's a hyper capable transport ship
with dual carbide armor. It has a small weapons array for a battle
ship and it's fast at sub-light. Most people care more about over
light speed, I don't I am a space folder. Yeah there's warp drive if
you want it, but I live at sub-light and most people do. You can't see
what happens at above sub-light and by the time you do you are already
past it. Means that droids and computers become the captain of your
ship. I never wanted to be captain but I don't want to turn over my
  destiny to someone else s simulation software, so I fold space. I
don't go in a straight line. I am here I power up my drives do the
calculations then, I am there. It's instantaneous but you have to get
out of solar systems to do it. That's why my ship is perfect. It's
fast driving in system. I don't use ion impulse. I use fuel. I scoop
from most any gas giant and quite a few stars. Also if I want to
increase the risk I can jump inside a system, tactically it's the
shit. Think about it. It's risky but you are there and then 8 minutes
later you are gone. You don't get to do re-does, but if you do it right
and you live a certain life style you never need to fire a shot.
Eight minutes though can be an eternity. If your drive a ship
though in straight line you run the risk of being seen for parsecs.
There is something called a warp wave front. It projects in front of
the ship to allow all that really cool speed you want. When you jump
you throw a stone in a pond. That means instead of having a strong
direction beam you have a mono pulse. If you have two intercept
points you can triangulate where the jumper is, but in my estimation
by the time they get that and start to go toward you you are already
powered up and gone.
I spent a stint in the marines, and
learned to fly there. I also am a pretty good shot. My computer
skills are decent, but not on anything recent. I stick with what
works. I wonder around and sometimes pick up a hardware upgrade from
time to time, but recently in the past ten years I don't get the bang
for my buck I use to. When I need supplies I got to go to 'town'. My
version of town is some eight light years away approximately. If you
have to get all how many Au's out there then it changes all the time.
I live in asteroid belt, so please don't go there with me, but trust
me you better have got a good grade in calculus to live out here. Why
an asteroid? Funny you should ask. I live out here because I mine
things out here left by solar winds and other things you can only
find in a decompressed planet. Also there is my family that lives in
  permanent stasis. See when I was a good man, I came back from the
war. It wasn't any good war or anything else. It was mostly seeing my
good friends die. Some of them did it for me. I didn't do anything
for the flag or anything else. I did it because what I did kept me
and my friends alive. I signed up as a fly boy and ended up on the
ground for some seventeen months with a group of the best people I
have ever met. They weren't in it for politics they wanted to live.
They were marines. They saved me when my ship went down. They hid me
when I couldn't move. They fed me when they didn't have much to eat.
And we fought every day to get back home.
Space is vast. You find yourself
talking to yourself at times about days gone by, about things you
never talk about to anyone. I miss my marines.

The first blog

This is the first blog for me. That is I, which compose the team of we who are Sector Five Radio.
For those of you who follow our current three hours of the weird, the strange or the Sci Fi happening. I am Capt. Proton.

It seems that I am now making this unauthorized, unexpected, and orphan blog to show people in the real world what we do to make radio happen for you every Saturday night. I don't really run the website. I just add to it. I don't run the controls at the radio station, I just book guests and respond to comments about it. Matter of fact your chance to get noticed on this blog are high enough that if you are really interesting, if you have a pulse and you can describe yourself well enough, we just might let you on the show sometime, no promises.
I started the show basically to help all the people around me. Several people you might understand now I know are un or under employed. For a long time I have been a cynic of the paranormal. To say more to the point "I want to believe.". If you think that we have far too many Big Foot Strories on or that we have Far Far Away too many Ufo Stories on, then you need to know that we cover a lot of ground for three hours on a live CALL in show. Why call in? We are two way radio. We look for your posts and tweets and facebook comments. We look for your flames about everyone, we love all our fans. We want you to be part of the action. I wanted to make a place where all the smart kids could go to listen to others tell stories.

So this is my part to tell stories. I have made acquaintance with over forty well known and not so well know Sci-Fi Authors. While I would never be nearly as good as many of them I want to try to empathize with them by writing myself. Putting myself out there for others to see. It is a safe place behind a desk and doing critiques of others but for me it is a cowards road worn with those who have gone before me. Therefore it is time for your Captain to strike out and tell one for the road. I don't claim my stories are going to be the best you have ever read, but at least I will give it a try.
Michael Tanner