Rami Ungar The Writer

The 7 Beauties of Science Fiction

Posted: November 20, 2013 in ideas, Living and Life, Reflections, Writing
Tags: authors, college life, editing, entertainment, films, living and life, Ohio State University, reflections, science fiction, writing

In his book The Seven Beauties of Science Fiction, Istvan Csicery-Ronay Jr. explains some of the most common themes of science fiction. He did this in order to examine how these themes could apply and impact our lives as we navigate a world that relies increasingly on technology and information. However, they also make great guidelines for examining science fiction and for writing your own stories that take place somewhere far off in time and space.

We went over these seven beauties early in the semester in my SF/Fantasy literature course, but today we went over them again. It was an optional class today that focused more on fantasy than science-fiction, and we came up with our own seven beauties of fantasy because the two genres overlap and are entwined in so many way. After class, I came up with my own list the horror, but could only come up with five beauties. Oh well.

Anyway, I thought I’d do a trilogy of posts that focused on the different beauties for each genre, because they are related genres and because they overlap in so many ways, so it’s interesting to examine some of the mores and common themes of these three genres. First, I’d like to start with the seven beauties of science fiction, because that’s what I learned first and it’s from these that my class created the seven beauties of fantasy, and I created the five beauties of horror.

With each beauty, I give a definition and an example, some from books and movies I’ve read/watched, some from my own work, and some that I’ve just heard about. If you have any examples, please let me know. I may just add them into the list.

1. Neologisms–new words or phrases that are exclusive to the world of the story. Every term that refers to something that only exists in that world, that’s a neologism. Consider the term twanking from the short story Mr. Boy, or warp in Star Trek. Those terms are a part of the story, and outside the story don’t have any relevance (unless, for the latter term, you’re a theoretical physicist trying to figure out how to warp something from one end of the room to the other).

2. Novums–technology or inventions that exist only in the story of the world. Take the ansible from Ender’s Game, or the lightsaber, or the TARDIS. These are technologies years ahead of us, only existing in stories and as imitations we see sometimes at comic book conventions. One can consider the flying saucer a novum, because as far as we know, real flying saucers don’t exist.

3. Historical extrapolation–referring to events that happened in the past in order to explain the world as it is now. You know how in Episode IV of Star Wars Obi-Wan explains how the Empire rose and the Jedi Order was destroyed thanks to Darth Vader? That’s historical extrapolation. It’s referring to events not always seen in the actual story to explain how the world we are in came to be. Other examples include how the first invasion of the Buggers in Ender’s Game creates Ender’s world and the aliens coming to Japan during the Meiji era in GinTama.

4. Oxymoron–implausibility or absurdities that only work in the story. An example of this would be crossing a human with a housefly to get a man-fly or radiation causing the dead to rise, like in the original Night of the Living Dead. Another way to look at this would be the idea that the human species develops in other regions of the universe at the same time, and when all the species come together, they find out they are all similar. It’s not likely, is it? Yet we see it in science-fiction and we don’t question it.

5. Scientific Impertinence–when laws that are deemed “unbreakable” by science are broken. Travelling at light-speed without expanding your mass to incredible sizes or traveling through time and space all in the course of a second without any aftershocks or side-effects might count as this. Scientifically, they can’t happen, but they do in these stories.

6. Sublime chronotopes– the space/time of the story. A science-fiction story is our world with added elements of scientific nature. Therefore, Star Trek and everything in its franchise are technically taking place in this world, but in the future and on other planets or in the void of space. Therefore, defining the sublime chronotopes of a story is defining its time and space relative to yours.

7. Parable–what’s the story about? Most sci-fi stories, we will find, is a parable that explores a certain issue. District 9 is about apartheid and racism. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? explores what it means to be human. 2001: A Space Odyssey is about mankind’s dependence on technology. And A.I. Artificial Intelligence explores what could happen if robots and humans learned to bond with each other.

Whether you agree or disagree with these 7 Beauties of Science Fiction, they are useful in exploring the genre. And sometimes you can even use them as a tool in the endless debates that seem to come from popular franchises and stories.

Thanks for reading. I hope to have the 7 Beauties of Fantasy and the 5 Beauties of Horror up soon.

What do you think of the 7 Beauties listed here? Do you agree or disagree? Why? Do you have any examples?

Weekly Exercise #14 (11/19/13)

Posted: November 19, 2013 in Scary Stuff, Weekly Exercises, Writing
Tags: entertainment, horror, scary stuff, weekly exercises, writing, WWII/Holocaust

Time again for my Weekly Exercises! These flash-fiction pieces are part chance for me to practice my craft, part chance for the readers of my blog to let me know how I’m doing as a writer, and part shameless plug to get people interested in my published fiction. Remember that the Weekly Exercises are dependent on reader feedback, so if you have any thoughts, let me know.

If you would like to check out other Weekly Exercises, please check out their page. And if you have an idea for a Weekly Exercise, let me know. You might see one based on your idea here with your name on it.

That’s all right now. Enjoy.

~~~

Josef Mengele woke up with a start. He was strapped down to a metal chair in his kitchen and someone had placed a gag in his mouth. He tried to call out, but a voice said in his ear, “Nobody’s coming to save you.” From behind him appeared two men and a woman. Mengele didn’t recognize either of them.

“We’ve been looking a very long time for you, Josef Mengele.” said the woman, speaking German with a Polish accent tinged with some American. “Almost ten years, in fact.”

“Do you know who we are?” asked one of the men, whose voice sounded like the one Mengele had heard only a moment before. He was dark-eyed and he had a long, scraggly beard. Mengele shook his head, which made all three intruders smile humorlessly. “We guess you wouldn’t. After all, you caused so much pain for so many. How can you expect to remember three prisoners?”

Mengele’s eyes widened. His three captors pulled up their shirt-sleeves, revealing strings of numbers appearing on their arms. Survivors of the camps, and they had him tied up and at their mercy! How did this happen?

“We’ve been tracking you for a while, Mengele.” said the second man, young and curly-haired. “We and so many of your former patients. We formed a little group after the war, you know. All to find the killers who had escaped justice. You’re the latest find out of twenty-three former Nazis. Yes, twenty-three. We made sure they suffered before they all died too.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” said the bearded man, removing the gag from Mengele’s mouth.

Mengele coughed and spluttered before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said. “I was an innocent lamb. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just following orders—!”

The woman slapped him. “No lies!” she hissed, her eyes ablaze with anger. “No more lies! You separated me from my husband and son! They died in the gas chambers and never received a grave. And you put me through hell, making me work and then cutting me open and then sewing me back up. And you had no problem with your lab assistants having fun with me! Don’t claim that you’re a little lamb! My husband and son were lambs! You’re a wolf!”

“The courts will vindicate me.” said Mengele. “You’ll be punished for this ludicrous behavior. But if you untie me now, I’ll forget this ever happened—”

The three captors laughed, shocking Mengele into silence. “You think we’ll give you to the courts?” said the curly-haired youth. “That’ll take too long. You’ll commit suicide before anyone can punish you. No, we’ve got something better planned for you.”

Suddenly a black shape appeared in the kitchen, floating just above the kitchen table. Mengele stared as a monstrous face emerged from the black shape, its eyes fiery red like hot coals. “What is that?” asked Mengele, terrified.

“The Angel of Death.” said the bearded man. “You know, the namesake for your nickname? He decided to help us punish the Nazis we track down. He gets your soul while you’re still alive, and we give him ourselves over to him ten years early.”

“You’d make such a deal?” said Mengele, not taking his eyes off the Angel of Death. “Why would you give up your lives after surviving the camps?”

“Because it’s worth it.” said the woman. “I’ve been only living a half-life since I left the camp anyways. Giving myself over to Death early makes the nightmares quiet, because I know I’m getting the retribution I seek. And whatever’s on the other side, it’s better than what you’ll ever get, even if I never see my husband and son again.

“Have fun in Hell.” said the bearded man. “It’s your turn to feel unending misery and terror.”

Mengele screamed as the Angel of Death wrapped itself around him. Then he was falling through a tunnel, before crashing on the shore of a sea of fire. In the sea of flames, being poked with pitchforks by ghastly monsters were Nazis of all ranks and branches and ages. Some of them Mengele even recognized. There was Goebbels and his wife, and there was his assistant at Auschwitz, and there was a corporal he’d known in Berlin, and—was that the Fuhrer being ripped apart by hooks in his skin as demons tried to reel him in from all sides like a fish?

Before he could even process that the same fate awaited him, something kicked him into the sea of flames.

A “Phantom” of an Idea

Posted: November 19, 2013 in ideas, Novel, Scary Stuff, Writing
Tags: authors, entertainment, horror, ideas, living and life, novel, scary stuff, writing

As you will see, there’s a really bad pun in the title of this post.

You ever have that song stuck in your head, and you can’t get it out of your head but you really don’t want it to become unstuck? And for those writers out there, do you ever wish that you could find some way to connect that song to your writing? Both happened to me today. And here’s the kicker: the songs in my head were from the musical The Phantom of the Opera, based on the novel by Gaston Leroux (you see why I said there was a bad pun in the title?). What’s worse was that I wanted to write a story written around The Phantom of the Opera.

Sometimes ideas come to me quickly when the inspiration strikes. Today it didn’t. I had to actually spend all day thinking about this story before I came up with something. The story for it was there, I just couldn’t get quite the grasp on it. And it wasn’t until I read some poetry by a friend and stepped out of the shower this evening that this idea for a POTO-based story came to me. I literally started jumping up and down in the bathroom with excitement. I was so happy to have this idea before I went to bed.

Now I’ve written the idea down and I’m writing it here because I wanted to share it with you. It just seemed like the sort of story in my life that I wanted to share here on my blog. The idea involves magic, some familiar characters from the novel and the musical, and a supernatural war playing out in Ohio, New York, Washington DC and Paris, all in the course of at least three books (I love how my mind works. It just comes up with the strangest elements to add to my stories). There’s darkness, there’s intrigue, there’s even a little forbidden love involved. If I ever get the chance to write it, it’ll be awesome.

Of course, I’ve got a pretty full schedule, so I’m not sure when I’ll be able to write it. Hopefully some time soon, right?

Well, I’m going to sign off now (first time I’ve ever said “signed off” in over two years of blogging. How’s that for random?). It’s late, and who knows? I’ve gotten some great ideas from sleeping and dreaming. If anything comes up, I might just let you know. So goodnight, Followers of Fear. See you in the morning.

An Update to My Article On Hypnosis

Posted: November 16, 2013 in Living and Life
Tags: celebrities, entertainment, hypnosis, living and life, television shows, writing

A little bit back I wrote an article about the truths and myths of hypnosis. In that article I mentioned that you can’t use hypnosis to kill someone, because you can’t force someone to do something they wouldn’t normally do, such as murder someone.

Turns out I was wrong. Apparently it is technically possible to make people commit crimes, including kill someone, through hypnosis.

I found this out through a special by Derren Brown, a British entertainer who regularly uses hypnosis in his acts. His shows are usually devoted to testing the limits of the abilities and techniques he uses in his acts, including hypnosis. This special, along with the rest in The Experiments series, aimed to look at the limitations of hypnosis and tried to see what you could or couldn’t really do with hypnosis. The special in question, which I embedded below, was devoted to seeing if it was possible to brainwash someone to become a killer, like it’s said often in the chat rooms of conspiracy theorists.

If you don’t have the time to sit down and watch a fifty-minute video, I’ll summarize the video below.

Okay, for those of you who didn’t watch it, the video detailed how basic hypnosis works, followed by searching for the perfect subject to be a hypnotized assassin, and then trained him to assassinate a certain celebrity (who agreed to be part of the production as the target), and then watched to see if the subject would assassinate the target, who had a bulletproof vest on. The subject did fire the gun.

So I was wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, hypnosis can be used to get someone to kill, even if they don’t realize what they are doing. However, it is extremely difficult to pull off, requiring months of training with the perfect subject and with the right hypnosis techniques. And even if you can pull this off, I wouldn’t recommend doing this sort of thing if you have any morals at all. Murder is murder, no matter what.

Now if you’ll need me, I’ll be writing and possibly thinking up some way to incorporate this terrible information into my views of hypnosis. With any luck I’ll be able to put this into a story I’ll write someday, which will most likely mean that I’ve accepted this new fact, and I’m not going to try to shut it out.

Until next time, Followers of Fear.

The End of My Writing Hiatus Is Nigh

Posted: November 15, 2013 in Living and Life, Novel, Progress Report, Writing
Tags: college life, entertainment, Laura Horn, living and life, novel, Ohio State University, progress report, self-pub authors, Video Rage, weekly exercises, writing

Today there’s more good news to celebrate. Since October 22 I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from writing because of how busy I was with school and work. However, things have eased up a bit since then. For the first time in a while, my homework load this weekend is a bit lighter than it’s been, and I don’t have that many books-for-pleasure piled up waiting for me to read them like I did when my hiatus started.

So guess what? That means pretty soon I’ll be able to actually sit down and do some writing! And thank God, because I’ve been itching to do some fiction writing, rather than the writing of numerous essays and papers tht have been my the bulk of my fare lately. And writing Weekly Exercises once a week–a thousand words at most every week–is definitely not enough to scratch that itch.

I don’t know when I’ll be able to start writing–might be today after classes, might be Sunday after homework and before dinner, might even be after I turn in my second-to-last essay next week–but it should be soon. And when I start writing, you can expect some very odd weather around central Ohio, because I’ll be writing up a storm! I plan to finish the first draft of Video Rage and get several more chapters of Laura Horn under my belt. Plus an article or two for Self-Published Authors Helping Other Authors, and my usual Weekly Exercises, and I’ll feel as close to normal as I can get again.

So watch your weather bulletins, people. Until then, I wish you all a wonderful weekend. Good luck to the Ohio State Buckeyes as they take on Illinois tomorrow, and I hope we all get the chance to sleep in and rest a little.

Blog on you later!

Snake: Halfway Through The Final Edits

Posted: November 14, 2013 in Novel, Progress Report, Writing
Tags: authors, editing, entertainment, living and life, novel, progress report, Snake, writing

Well, Angela Misri and I have reached another milestone as she continues to help me with the final draft of Snake. This evening, I finished edited Chapters 45-48, and sent her Chapters 49-52. And since Snake is a hundred chapters long*, this puts us officially halfway through the final edits of the novel.

*If the fact that there are a hundred chapters in the novel scare you, there’s no need to be worried. Each chapter is less than 10 pages of 8.5″ x 11″ paper, the standard MS Word sized-paper. Not sure how that’ll translate over to paperback, but the point is, each chapter is very short.

I’m very glad for all that Angela’s been able to do for me, and I look forward to every single one of her suggestions. I hope we can do more collaborations together in the future. And I’m also happy to say that at the rate we’re going, that at the outside we’ll be done by the end of January 2014, barring anything unexpected happening.

If you wish to read an excerpt from Snake, you can see one from the final draft here. Also, check out Angela’s blog, A Portia Adams Adventure. Believe me, it’s well worth checking out.

All for now. Goodnight everybody!

Race Is An Illusion

Posted: November 12, 2013 in Journalism, Living and Life, Novel, Reflections, Social Activism, Writing
Tags: college life, entertainment, human rights, journalism, living and life, novel, proper decisions, race, Reborn City, reflections, writing

Today I logged onto the Huffington Post to check the latest in the news, and I saw a story where a white supremacist found out on a talk show that he’s only 86% white. The rest is 14% sub-Saharan African, which is apparently home to some of the darkest-skinned people on the planet. If I’ve done this correctly, I’ve embedded a video from NewsBreaker onto this post. If not, here’s a link to the article itself.

Shocking, right? And kind of funny, too. According to Cobb, even one drop of black clood makes you black. So sadly, he wouldn’t be allowed in his own “enclave”, were it to actually be set up.

But as much as this Cobb guy and other people who proclaim the (insert race here) race is superior, I’ve got news for them. I’ve learned something recently in my sociology class that I thought was mind-blowing. Apparently “race” as we understand it is a social construction, not a biological thing. It’s something we create in our minds to help us humans categorize, because apparently we love categorizing things.

In biology though, there’s actually little difference between humans of different races. There’s more differences between two penguins of the same species than there are between a black guy and a white guy. And the more scientists look for a biological basis about race, the more they find evidence to the contrary. Even things like melanin content, which determines skin color, and differences in susceptibility to certain diseases, something documented in the various races we’ve created, are determined by a number of traits that all humans share and could occur in people around the world at any time.

Even more mind-boggling is that definitions of race aren’t static: in Brazil, there are around 500 different races, while in the US there are about four or five. And races can changed. Someone from Mexico could be Spanish or Native American, and nobody could see the difference. President Obama could consider himself white if he wanted to, considering his parentage, but he’s black by choice. And not only are the races we define ourselves by subject to change where you go, the traits associated with races can change too:

He not only broke records, he broke down erroneous beliefs.

Before the 1936 Olympics, Americans assumed that because blacks, Native Americans, and Chinese mostly lived in poverty, they were degenerate and inferior in both mind and body (these beliefs never took into account socioeconomic situation, lack of education, or discrimination, even when statisticians published “findings” supporting these beliefs). However, after Jesse Owens took home the gold, race enthusiasts changed their beliefs in order to jibe with Owens’ success at the Olympics. They changed their attitudes to say that because African-Americans had been physically honed for strength and speed while in slavery, their physical abilities were superior, while their brains were inferior to the white man’s brain. I don’t know if Neil deGrasse Tyson plays sports, but that last part is definitely false, and it just shows how fluid beliefs about race are. And just as not all whites are smart or athletically superior, neither are all blacks, Asians, or Native Americans either of those or anything else. Everybody’s different, even as we’re all the same.

And finally, even on the genetic level there’s little to differentiate us from people of different races. If I were to get my blood typed and compare it to others in a worldwide database (and I’m actually looking into doing that, by the way), statistically speaking I’d be just as genetically similar to a Yoruban man as I would be to a Japanese woman or a child in the Amazonian rainforests. So on almost every level, race is not actually biological, but really just a product of our minds.

So why am I writing all this, besides to make fun of the Cobbs guy’s beliefs and possibly blow a few minds? Because all this relates in a strange way to my novel Reborn City. When I wrote the novel back in high school, I still thought there was at least a small basis to differences to races, and that reflects in the novel, where most of the gangs are divided up by race. I didn’t even factor in that there are different subgroups in races, like instead of just all Hispanic/Latino, there are Mexican, Cuban, Dominican, Nicaraguan, etc. I just knew I wanted to include a racially-diverse cast of characters and at the same time show how races work together would always win out over races fighting against each other.

Too bad I find out all this mind-boggling information after the book comes out, right? But now that I’m better armed, I’ll try to be a little smarter about it all. I’ll still include a racially diverse cast, but I won’t write it with the belief that races are homogenous or static or anything. I’ll just have people with very diverse backgrounds and that won’t even be a huge factor in the works I write, but instead just something interesting about my writing style.

However, that doesn’t mean one should ignore race because it doesn’t to exist, or because race shouldn’t matter. The fact is, people still see race as an actual, biological thing, and the belief is the basis of a lot of problems, controversies and discussions in the United States and the greater world. Ignoring it would be like ignoring your health in the hope you won’t get sick; it just won’t work. Instead, one should acknowledge race as a social construction, try to see through it, and if possible help others see through it.

That’s my opinion, anyway. You can agree or disagree as you like.

I’ll try and write a post tomorrow if I can. Until then, good night everybody!

Weekly Exercise #13 (11/10/13)

Posted: November 10, 2013 in Living and Life, Scary Stuff, Weekly Exercises, Writing
Tags: college life, horror, living and life, scary stuff, weekly exercises, writing

Time for my Weekly Exercises (and a day earlier than promised). These flash fiction pieces are a chance to practice my craft, as well as get feedback from readers, and to possibly get them interested in my published work. Remember, the Weekly Exercises are for the readers, so if you like what you read, let me know.

This week’s Exercise is a special one, and not just because it’s the thirteenth. I’ve included a little section after the Exercise to explain why this one’s special. I’d suggest for you to wait until after you’ve read the Exercise to read that explanation, but scroll down if you want to. Just recognize it’s a much more impactful story if you read the additional stuff afterwards.

For more Weekly Exercises, please follow the link here. And if you have an idea for a Weekly Exercise, let me know. You may see your name and idea in a future Weekly Exercise.

~~~

Mark pulled the Toyota Sequoia into his usual parking spot and got out, sweaty and close to puking. Still he managed to keep his stomach down and went to inspect the front of the car. When he saw the blood, he actually did throw up.

He couldn’t believe it had happened. He’d been driving home from a party at his friend’s frat house after a few hours of boozing and a comfortable three-quarter hour with a lovely coed. He was slightly buzzed, but not enough that he thought it’d be a problem to drive. Besides, what did he care? He was doing well in his classes, he’d probably ace his exams, and he was graduating a semester early with a 3.7 GPA. What could go wrong with his life?

He’d been a block away from the intersection at Fifteenth and High, and the light turned green. He’d stepped on it, not even bothering to slow his speed or put on his turn signal as he went into the turn. It was then he’d first seen the pedestrian, a guy in a navy-blue coat and a wool hat crossing High Street. Mark saw him, but didn’t react. Neither did the pedestrian, who had just seemed to notice that a big white car was heading for him at nearly forty miles an hour.

There was a sickening crunching noise as the car’s nose hit the pedestrian head-on. He flipped -over onto the hood, rolled up to the windshield, bounced off the glass, and then off the car and onto the street. Mark hit his brakes, skidding to a stop in the left-hand lane. He looked behind him, seeing a crowd of people gathering from the nearest bar and from the street corners to see what had happened. The pedestrian lay on the ground unmoving, while people took photos with their phones and pointed. Still the pedestrian didn’t move.

Mark didn’t know how long he looked out the back of his car, but then he noticed people pointing at his car and he’d snapped back to life. He’d pressed down the gas pedal and bolted before anyone could stop him or call the cops. Mark didn’t stop driving until he was far from Fifteenth and High, and only then did he slow down enough to make it home in the narrow streets in his neighborhood without hitting anyone or anything else.

He’d killed that guy. He was sure of it. The amount of blood his car had brought with them, the poor bastard couldn’t have survived. Perhaps Mark should turn himself in—no, he couldn’t. He was going to graduate in a few weeks, and he had an interview with Safe Auto tomorrow afternoon. If he was even charged with killing someone, he could kiss his chances of graduating and employment away.

He’d have to get rid of the evidence. The window wasn’t cracked and the hood was only a little bent out of shape. If he could get the blood off his white car, nobody would know the difference. Mark turned to get a bucket and a sponge from his apartment, but standing in his way was a person. Except the person was covered in blood, his jaw nearly torn off, and his arm was bent at a weird angle. He couldn’t be a real person, could he?

Mark stepped back as the monstrous man limped towards him. It was then that Mark noticed the guy was wearing a navy-blue coat and a wool hat. It was the pedestrian he’d hit. “Hey dude.” said the pedestrian, looking at him through broken glasses. “You know, that was kind of dickish back there. I mean, you just left me in the street so that people could take photographs of me and post them to Facebook! What was up with that?”

“Stay away from me!” shouted Mark, but the ghostly vision came closer. Then it extended his good arm and pushed Mark into the front of his car. Mark felt the blood against his back, and he screamed.

“You didn’t care, did you?” shouted the spirit. “You just ran off to preserve your perfect life! My life’s gone now, it’s all over the ground and your car and your back.” Mark stared in horror as the spirit started to fade in front of his eyes. “Well, guess what? Karma’s a bitch.”

The spirit disappeared. For a second, Mark thought he’d imagined the whole thing, but then his car roared to life behind him. He turned around and saw the pedestrian’s ghost in the front seat of his car. “Hey, I never got my license.” shouted the spirit, leaning his head out the window. Do you think I can still drive this and kill you?”

Mark screamed and ran. The car followed, its demonic driver laughing maniacally. He ran, dodging the car every time the engine gunned and it tried to hit him. At some point Mark realized that the ghost in the front seat was pushing him back towards High Street. But why? Did he want him to die like he’d died, on the very same street as he did?

Finally he broke onto the open lane of High Street, not seven blocks from where Mark had hit the pedestrian. The car chased him towards Fifteenth, a chase in the middle of the busy street. People watched as Mark ran, chased by his own car. Finally between Fourteenth and Fifteenth, the car’s engine died and the car rolled to a stop in front of a closed bookstore. Mark stopped running, unable to believe he was still alive.

“Excuse me sir?” said a voice. Mark turned and saw two cops coming his way from a sea of police cars surrounding the crosswalk where Mark had hit the pedestrian. And there, unnoticed by anyone, was the pedestrian’s ghost, sitting on top of one car. He waved as the police inspected him and his car.

Now Mark’s life was over too. The spirit disappeared.

~~~

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this on this blog, but back in February of this year I was hit by a car on the way to class. Luckily I got off with only a few bruised ribs and a scrape or two, but I was pissed, especially when the driver only waited for me to get up and start swearing before she tried to drive off. She didn’t get very far though, because the street we were on was not only full of cars and pedestrian traffic, but a construction site was nearby. She was arrested twenty feet from where she’d hit me!

Ever since that day though, I’ve been weary of getting hit again, and every time I cross a street, I’m watching twice as hard for anything that might hit me. Good thing I’ve been so vigilant, because last night as I was walking back from seeing the new Thor movie, I was crossing the street and a car nearly ran me over. And yes, it was a white Toyota Sequoia. If I’d taken a second longer to react, I might be a pancake in the road. And the way the driver reacted–actually, how he didn’t react at all to nearly hitting a pedestrian while driving too fast in a turn.–let me know that he would’ve just driven away as well if he’d hit me.

So as part therapy, part fun of writing, part warning to anyone who reads this blog and drives, and part imagining what might happen if he’d actually hit me and I could come back as a ghost, I dedicated a whole Weekly Exercise to what’d nearly happened to me. And now that I’ve written this out, I can say I can continue on with my life with just as much enjoyment and energy as usual.

Well, maybe with a bit more confidence and pride that my hyper-vigilance around traffic isn’t out of just paranoia and it’s actual useful. Good night everybody!