Write What You Know ... Or Know What You Write
Orson Scott Card is a prolific and talented writer of science fiction, and has deservedly gained a legion of fans. With Empire, he left science fiction to write a futuristic thriller, which is a very different animal.
Empire had to be written according to the guidelines for a thriller, and the results were mixed.A futuristic thriller must be consistent with current social and technology trends while making a plausible projection into the future, the story must unfold at a fast pace, the lead characters must be strong and dangerous, there should be plenty of action and suspense, and it must be (pardon the phrase) fair and balanced. OSC succeeds to varying degrees in most areas.
Empire postulates that partisanship between the political Right and Left has gone much too far, leading to the beginning of a new American civil war. An interesting theme, and OSC moves the story along at a good pace with plenty of action. The characters are realistic, if a little too familiar. The giant, robotic-like weapons, however, are pretty standard stuff; more imaginative weapons would have energized the storytelling.
The critical flaw is that the story is not fair and balanced; the conservatives wear the white hats while the liberals are almost all black hat dudes. This is exactly the kind of packaging that OSC warns us against. Nobody has a monopoly on the truth, and we are all mixtures of wholesome and unattractive characteristics and beliefs.
Readers can enjoy a story that doesn't precisely fit their view of life if they feel the author has presented a balanced perspective. Empire failed here. For me, this flaw dragged down a pretty good futuristic thriller to the level of a made for TV movie.
Check out my two futuristic thrillers, PeaceMaker and the newly released Unholy Domain.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Read Chapter 3 of Unholy Domain
Reading a novel is an intensely personal experience. You may love the story, or in the worst case, toss the book aside after a few chapters. As the author, I may believe that Unholy Domain, my new thriller, is a great read --- we received a bunch of fantastic reviews --- but only you can decide. It’s my responsibility to present a concise selection of information that enables you to quickly make an informed decision.
Okay, so here’s what I suggest. First, watch the Unholy Domain video trailer; it’s only three minutes and it provides an exciting cinematic overview of the story. If this video doesn’t peak your interest, then Unholy Domain isn’t the story for you.
If you enjoyed the video, read a chapter of the novel. I picked out Chapter Three because it introduces David Brown, a young man with issues, and kicks off his quest to prove his late father innocent of a horrendous act of terrorism. If you get into the story, then you should buy my novel; otherwise, I thank you for taking the time to check out my work.
UNHOLY DOMAIN
By Dan Ronco
CHAPTER 3
An uneasy peace exists between believers and Technos. Most people draw clear boundaries between religion and technology, but what if they come into conflict? What would put them in fundamental conflict? Or is the question who rather than what?
Steve Bonini’s Diary, 2014
Monday, January 31, 2022
David forced his eyes open and blinked at the sunlight streaming through his apartment window. His stomach felt queasy, and he kicked himself for staying so late at the bars. He recalled going out to the car with Cindy-what’s-her-name, but everything was a blur.
Turning his head to focus on the alarm clock, he groaned when he saw it was almost 11 a.m. He knew he should drag himself out of bed and catch up on his homework. Now in his fourth year at the University of Washington, he was still a junior because he had dropped so many classes. Although testing had revealed a genius level IQ, his grades were mediocre. Not that he gave a shit.
Is Cindy still here? He reached over, but the bed was empty. Too bad. She must have decided to sneak away before her friends discovered that she had slept with the infamous David Brown.
He blinked his eyes, but his vision remained blurry. That girl could sure suck down the beer. He smiled, thinking about last night’s encounter. She knew how to use that body, too. He scratched his head and fought the temptation to go back to sleep.
On the wall was a poster of Marilyn Monroe, a long-ago sex symbol. A blast of wind from a passing subway had blown her dress upwards, revealing a beautiful pair of legs. Although Marilyn attempted to push down her dress, a mischievous smile lit up her face. The honest beauty and pure enjoyment of that poster always made him feel good. Marilyn died young, a misfit, but she had left her mark. Maybe he would leave his mark, too.
David’s robot, NewBuddy, waited at the foot of the bed. A five-foot-tall mobile computer with a holographic projector on top, it could move about the apartment on four spidery legs. He had brought NewBuddy home from the school’s artificial intelligence lab to upgrade its software.
How many beers did I have last night, anyway? He smiled. Not as many as Cindy.
When he propped himself up on his elbows, the robot displayed Marilyn Monroe’s head and torso in a three-dimensional holograph just above its top section.
“Rise and shine, big boy,” Marilyn said. “Time to get that bod out of bed.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Marilyn,” he said, yawning.
The robot then projected a life-size hologram of Marilyn in a tiny bikini standing next to the bed. The image was so vivid, David felt he could have reached up and touched her. She leaned over him, her breasts swaying deliciously, and leered. “I really need you to get up.” She giggled. “Come on, baby.”
David chuckled, “Pretty good,” but remained in bed.
He fluffed up the pillows and stretched out.
There wasn’t that much homework, anyway.
He loved working on the robot, and he knew every inch of it. The central processing and memory unit located midway up the frame coordinated the actions of the microchips distributed throughout the robot’s structure. NewBuddy had the hardware capability to outperform a human at many tasks. An idea to improve its performance popped into his mind, but instead of acting on it, he reluctantly decided to study for the exams.
The robot carried a bunch of towels into the bathroom, treading lightly on its thin legs. A moment later, David heard water running in the shower.
He wondered why his professors insisted he take all these dumb classes; they knew he had designed most of the enhancements to this robot. Thanks to his work, each microchip employed high performance software that functioned independently of the central processor. In effect, he had distributed intelligence throughout the robot, with the central processor providing coordination. David wasn’t claiming all the credit—he didn’t really care who got the credit—but everyone knew he had developed the software.
NewBuddy came out of the bathroom. “Your shower is ready.”
David kicked off the blankets and dragged himself out of bed. He took a step and stumbled over a pair of sneakers. They didn’t look familiar, so he held one against his foot. Too small. He chuckled when he realized Cindy had left her sneakers here. He felt under the bed for his sneakers. Gone.
Wear them in good health.
Undressing as he walked, he dropped his underpants on the floor and stumbled to the bathroom. He opened the shower door and tested the water temperature with his hand. Why do I bother? He enjoyed a long shower, shaved, tied his thick brown hair back in a wet ponytail and walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. He checked out his bare body as he passed the mirror—lean and tight.
NewBuddy had left a pair of jeans, a black pull-over shirt, clean underpants, and white socks on the now made-up bed. His beat-up tennis shoes were side by side on the rug. After dressing quickly, he ambled into the old-fashioned but recently repainted kitchen, where NewBuddy had placed a cup of coffee, black and steaming, on the table. The robot was heating scrambled eggs and toast in the microwave, which it served shortly after he sipped the coffee.
He grinned and said, “Marilyn, what do you think are my best qualities?”
While the robot carried frozen strips of bacon to the microwave, a life-sized hologram of Marilyn Monroe, dressed in a French maid’s outfit, appeared at his side.
“Hmmm, you have so many good qualities.” Marilyn licked her lips. “It’s difficult, big boy, to pick out just one or two.”
Scratching his chin, David pretended to consider Marilyn’s answer. “You make a good point. I know it’s difficult with so much to choose from, but let’s be bold. Take a stab at it.”
“Well, that hard body of yours does things for me,” Marilyn purred. “Plus, you know more about artificial intelligence and robotics than anyone else in the world, including that bimbo Dr. Golkin, who gave you a C in the robotics lab.” Marilyn smiled and said, “That’s it, baby, sexy and smart— those are your best qualities.”
“Excellent. My selections as well.” David raised his coffee cup. “My compliments to your neural networks.”
While eating scrambled eggs and bacon, he picked up his eyeglasses and said, “Turn on the news.”
The intelligent software in the glasses selected his standard morning news broadcast. The first report described a big government technology bust. The news reporter described how the FBI had caught a gang of black marketers. An informer had revealed the location of a data warehouse on the net, containing illegal financial software. By analyzing and extrapolating vast amounts of financial data, the software could augment human reasoning in placing stock market transactions. The news reporter explained how anyone owning this software would have an unfair advantage over everyone else, violating the Technology Fairness Act. Luckily, the reporter droned, the FBI caught the criminals before they could distribute the software over the net.
Stupid law, stupid government.
“Turn off this crap and display my messages.” He finished the scrambled eggs and took a big bite of toast.
He stopped chewing when his glasses displayed page after page of email messages—more than eight thousand messages last night.
“What the hell?” he murmured and selected the first one. The video showed the hazy outline of a man sitting in a dark room. A heavy, deliberately distorted voice said, “You and your whole damn family should have been executed years ago. I don’t buy all that bullshit that you were innocent. You have bad blood. We should get a hot iron and ram—”
“Shut down this message,” David shouted and collapsed back in his chair.
God, it was happening again.
He picked another message and the puffy face of a fifty-plus woman appeared.
“My son Donnie would be thirty-one if he hadn’t died from radiation exposure ten years ago,” she said. “Your father—may he rot in hell —was responsible for Donnie’s murder when that PeaceMaker made the nuclear reactor explode. You should at least have the decency to say you’re sorry for what that bastard did. First Minister Jordan says you’re a computer freak, too. The government ought to lock you up and throw away the key.”
The picture went blank.
So that’s what set it off. A stupid speech by that maniac Adam Jordan. Shit. If they target me, this could get dangerous.
The old anger came back, fresh and raw. He would not let these bastards push him around again.
PeaceMaker was my father’s crime, not mine. My father, damn him.
He spit the toast out of his mouth.
The bastard.
As suddenly as it came, the storm passed. There wasn’t any point in getting worked up, he decided. The anger simmered, but he’d get through it.
“Eliminate all the messages in my mailbox except those from people I know.”
All but a few messages disappeared. His mother had messaged several times, warning him to stay out of class for a few days. That bastard Jordan was heating things up again, no doubt to recruit converts for his miserable church.
Too bad he didn’t have a class today. At least he could go over to the library, as if he was looking up something in that slower-than-shit computer system. Screw them.
Only one message remained. Sent from a public database, the message had been created a decade earlier. Curious, he selected it.
His father stared at him from across the years, a broad-shouldered man with big hands tapping nervously on his desk.
David gaped at the once-familiar image. Unruly salt and pepper hair flopped over a forehead lined with deep creases, but it was the intensity in his father’s dark eyes that mesmerized David.
The man began to speak, slowly, quietly. “Dear David, receiving a message from your father after all these years must be quite a shock, and I’m sorry for that. You’re twenty-one now, old enough to learn what happened directly from me. By chance, I discovered a lethal virus in the Atlas operating system, and I have decided to do everything in my power to defeat it and expose the people who developed it. I’m scared and I thought about walking away from it, but I can’t do it. Since you received this message, I must have failed and my enemies captured or killed me. You see, this message was set to release automatically in 2022 unless I deleted it. God, I can only hope they were stopped before they unleashed the virus.
“It was great to see you last weekend. You are probably building computer systems I couldn’t even imagine. You’re growing into a fine young man.” There was a catch in his voice. “I am so proud of you.” His father paused for a moment to regain his composure. “I’m not very good at giving a speech, and I won’t try to do that today. I wasn’t as good a father as you deserved. I drank too much and I wasn’t always there when you needed me. Your mother deserves all the credit for helping you grow up as well as you have. But know this—I love you very much.”
His father pushed a strand of hair back from his forehead. “I guess that’s all I have to say. I don’t know what kind of world exists in 2022, but I hope it’s good for you.”
The sadness in his father’s voice settled like a damp winter day into David’s bones.
“Goodbye … I wish it could have been different … live fully and honorably … that’s all.”
Stunned, David played the message again. He tried to capture every word, every inflection. The message appeared to be authentic—why would anyone fake it after all these years?
Slowly the enormity of the message sank in; was it possible his father was not the monster who had infected the net with the PeaceMaker virus? If this message was true, his father had not been responsible for all the death and destruction when the computers shut down. Just the opposite. He had lost his life trying to stop the criminals responsible for the catastrophe.
He felt sick. His head ached, but this wasn’t a normal headache. The pain seemed to flow right into his mind. He hadn’t suffered an attack like this for years, since PeaceMaker had been terminated. David buried his head in his arms and closed his eyes. The stench of roadside kill drifted into his senses as in a dream. Pain … disquieting sensations … more pain. An image formed in the shadows of his mind. The image twisted and vibrated, like an insect escaping a cocoon, but remained hazy. Then he understood … an entity was coming across the net, coming for him. His mind’s eye strained to see through the darkness … the image twisted into the shape of a child, but it wasn’t flesh and blood. All his senses warned him of danger.
David readied for the confrontation. A stone blasted through his kitchen window, spraying shards of glass across the room, bringing him out of his trance. He dived to the floor as a second stone hurled through the window and crashed into his refrigerator. A barrage of stones pelted his windows, and he scrambled under the table.
Angry voices came from the ground, and another volley of stones smashed through the windows. Sirens wailed in the distance, and he prayed it was the police coming to rescue him. Stones continued to fly through the windows, splintering the remaining glass and crashing into the walls and ceiling. The siren grew louder, but it seemed to be taking forever.
He heard voices from the exterior hallway, then a loud crash. Someone was trying to knock down his door! His only weapon was a baseball bat in the bedroom closet. He scrambled across the kitchen floor on his hands and knees. He reached up, opened the closet door and searched for the bat. Loud thuds as someone tried to kick in the door. He found the bat and got ready to swing it at anyone who broke in.
A voice yelled, “Cops,” and several people ran down the exterior hall.
Another volley of stones crashed through the bedroom window. He scrambled back under the kitchen table. Excited voices came through the windows, and he thought he heard a policeman shouting orders. Gradually, it grew quiet outside, except for a pulsing siren. Still holding the bat, he crept to the kitchen window and peeked out. A few demonstrators were in the street, but the police had them under control.
One grubby-looking guy spotted David in the window and shouted obscenities. David gave him the finger then crunched through broken glass back to the kitchen table. NewBuddy was stretched out on the floor, his chest dented by a rock.
A policeman came in to see if he was okay, and glanced around at the damage. He seemed annoyed to be there and left without saying much.
David went back to the splintered kitchen window and watched the police drag away the few remaining demonstrators. He doubted anyone would be charged.
He looked around at his apartment, littered with stones and broken glass. It was getting chilly, but he didn’t care.
After staring blankly out the window for some time, he realized he was pressing hard on the windowsill, leaving his fingertips white and sore. The demonstrators were gone. A lone policeman stood at the front door of the apartment building.
David pulled a sheet off his bed and tacked it over the bedroom window, then did the same in the kitchen. He swept up the broken glass, poured a glass of cola and sat down at the kitchen table.
His father was responsible for this.
Years before, he had concluded that his father had failed at all the important things in life. Sure, the man had it tough, but he failed big-time. His father had led a sad life, beginning with a dysfunctional family. He had fought alcoholism, never winning but never giving up either. The man had tried to be a good husband and father. When he had been sober, when he had been there for them, he was terrific. They just never knew which Raymond Brown they would get. And in the end, they got a failed man.
But how do I really know Dad wasn’t guilty? Maybe the message is a clever fake. Maybe he was creating an alibi in case things failed. Or maybe he was just a psycho after all.
David pressed his forehead against the table. Damn you, Dad, you bastard, you loser. Damn you, wherever you are. He couldn’t think of enough curses to burn out his rage, and they kept tumbling through his mind.
He couldn’t go on like this—he had to get to the truth. A lot more than an old message would be necessary to demonstrate his father’s innocence—if he was innocent. Those responsible for creating PeaceMaker had concocted a convincing lie, so getting to the truth would be tough. A decade had passed, plenty of time to destroy all the evidence of his father’s innocence, if there was any.
If my father is innocent, and I do this, the people who killed him will come after me.
Yet he had to do it. If he could prove his father wasn’t guilty, the family name would be cleared. All the hatred would disappear; they could live like normal people.
He wouldn’t fail. He wasn’t like his father. He would find out whether his father was innocent or guilty—wherever the truth took him. He’d get to the core and finally understand that strange, complex man.
Then he could free himself.
Maybe.
To David’s surprise, he felt strangely alive. For the first time in his life, he had a clear goal: he would finally learn what made his father tick. If Dad was innocent, David would clear the family name and bring the bastards to justice.
He glanced around at his broken apartment. He’d have to be careful, or his father’s killers would discover his search. He swallowed hard. And there was that creature coming over the net.
Okay, so here’s what I suggest. First, watch the Unholy Domain video trailer; it’s only three minutes and it provides an exciting cinematic overview of the story. If this video doesn’t peak your interest, then Unholy Domain isn’t the story for you.
If you enjoyed the video, read a chapter of the novel. I picked out Chapter Three because it introduces David Brown, a young man with issues, and kicks off his quest to prove his late father innocent of a horrendous act of terrorism. If you get into the story, then you should buy my novel; otherwise, I thank you for taking the time to check out my work.
UNHOLY DOMAIN
By Dan Ronco
CHAPTER 3
An uneasy peace exists between believers and Technos. Most people draw clear boundaries between religion and technology, but what if they come into conflict? What would put them in fundamental conflict? Or is the question who rather than what?
Steve Bonini’s Diary, 2014
Monday, January 31, 2022
David forced his eyes open and blinked at the sunlight streaming through his apartment window. His stomach felt queasy, and he kicked himself for staying so late at the bars. He recalled going out to the car with Cindy-what’s-her-name, but everything was a blur.
Turning his head to focus on the alarm clock, he groaned when he saw it was almost 11 a.m. He knew he should drag himself out of bed and catch up on his homework. Now in his fourth year at the University of Washington, he was still a junior because he had dropped so many classes. Although testing had revealed a genius level IQ, his grades were mediocre. Not that he gave a shit.
Is Cindy still here? He reached over, but the bed was empty. Too bad. She must have decided to sneak away before her friends discovered that she had slept with the infamous David Brown.
He blinked his eyes, but his vision remained blurry. That girl could sure suck down the beer. He smiled, thinking about last night’s encounter. She knew how to use that body, too. He scratched his head and fought the temptation to go back to sleep.
On the wall was a poster of Marilyn Monroe, a long-ago sex symbol. A blast of wind from a passing subway had blown her dress upwards, revealing a beautiful pair of legs. Although Marilyn attempted to push down her dress, a mischievous smile lit up her face. The honest beauty and pure enjoyment of that poster always made him feel good. Marilyn died young, a misfit, but she had left her mark. Maybe he would leave his mark, too.
David’s robot, NewBuddy, waited at the foot of the bed. A five-foot-tall mobile computer with a holographic projector on top, it could move about the apartment on four spidery legs. He had brought NewBuddy home from the school’s artificial intelligence lab to upgrade its software.
How many beers did I have last night, anyway? He smiled. Not as many as Cindy.
When he propped himself up on his elbows, the robot displayed Marilyn Monroe’s head and torso in a three-dimensional holograph just above its top section.
“Rise and shine, big boy,” Marilyn said. “Time to get that bod out of bed.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Marilyn,” he said, yawning.
The robot then projected a life-size hologram of Marilyn in a tiny bikini standing next to the bed. The image was so vivid, David felt he could have reached up and touched her. She leaned over him, her breasts swaying deliciously, and leered. “I really need you to get up.” She giggled. “Come on, baby.”
David chuckled, “Pretty good,” but remained in bed.
He fluffed up the pillows and stretched out.
There wasn’t that much homework, anyway.
He loved working on the robot, and he knew every inch of it. The central processing and memory unit located midway up the frame coordinated the actions of the microchips distributed throughout the robot’s structure. NewBuddy had the hardware capability to outperform a human at many tasks. An idea to improve its performance popped into his mind, but instead of acting on it, he reluctantly decided to study for the exams.
The robot carried a bunch of towels into the bathroom, treading lightly on its thin legs. A moment later, David heard water running in the shower.
He wondered why his professors insisted he take all these dumb classes; they knew he had designed most of the enhancements to this robot. Thanks to his work, each microchip employed high performance software that functioned independently of the central processor. In effect, he had distributed intelligence throughout the robot, with the central processor providing coordination. David wasn’t claiming all the credit—he didn’t really care who got the credit—but everyone knew he had developed the software.
NewBuddy came out of the bathroom. “Your shower is ready.”
David kicked off the blankets and dragged himself out of bed. He took a step and stumbled over a pair of sneakers. They didn’t look familiar, so he held one against his foot. Too small. He chuckled when he realized Cindy had left her sneakers here. He felt under the bed for his sneakers. Gone.
Wear them in good health.
Undressing as he walked, he dropped his underpants on the floor and stumbled to the bathroom. He opened the shower door and tested the water temperature with his hand. Why do I bother? He enjoyed a long shower, shaved, tied his thick brown hair back in a wet ponytail and walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. He checked out his bare body as he passed the mirror—lean and tight.
NewBuddy had left a pair of jeans, a black pull-over shirt, clean underpants, and white socks on the now made-up bed. His beat-up tennis shoes were side by side on the rug. After dressing quickly, he ambled into the old-fashioned but recently repainted kitchen, where NewBuddy had placed a cup of coffee, black and steaming, on the table. The robot was heating scrambled eggs and toast in the microwave, which it served shortly after he sipped the coffee.
He grinned and said, “Marilyn, what do you think are my best qualities?”
While the robot carried frozen strips of bacon to the microwave, a life-sized hologram of Marilyn Monroe, dressed in a French maid’s outfit, appeared at his side.
“Hmmm, you have so many good qualities.” Marilyn licked her lips. “It’s difficult, big boy, to pick out just one or two.”
Scratching his chin, David pretended to consider Marilyn’s answer. “You make a good point. I know it’s difficult with so much to choose from, but let’s be bold. Take a stab at it.”
“Well, that hard body of yours does things for me,” Marilyn purred. “Plus, you know more about artificial intelligence and robotics than anyone else in the world, including that bimbo Dr. Golkin, who gave you a C in the robotics lab.” Marilyn smiled and said, “That’s it, baby, sexy and smart— those are your best qualities.”
“Excellent. My selections as well.” David raised his coffee cup. “My compliments to your neural networks.”
While eating scrambled eggs and bacon, he picked up his eyeglasses and said, “Turn on the news.”
The intelligent software in the glasses selected his standard morning news broadcast. The first report described a big government technology bust. The news reporter described how the FBI had caught a gang of black marketers. An informer had revealed the location of a data warehouse on the net, containing illegal financial software. By analyzing and extrapolating vast amounts of financial data, the software could augment human reasoning in placing stock market transactions. The news reporter explained how anyone owning this software would have an unfair advantage over everyone else, violating the Technology Fairness Act. Luckily, the reporter droned, the FBI caught the criminals before they could distribute the software over the net.
Stupid law, stupid government.
“Turn off this crap and display my messages.” He finished the scrambled eggs and took a big bite of toast.
He stopped chewing when his glasses displayed page after page of email messages—more than eight thousand messages last night.
“What the hell?” he murmured and selected the first one. The video showed the hazy outline of a man sitting in a dark room. A heavy, deliberately distorted voice said, “You and your whole damn family should have been executed years ago. I don’t buy all that bullshit that you were innocent. You have bad blood. We should get a hot iron and ram—”
“Shut down this message,” David shouted and collapsed back in his chair.
God, it was happening again.
He picked another message and the puffy face of a fifty-plus woman appeared.
“My son Donnie would be thirty-one if he hadn’t died from radiation exposure ten years ago,” she said. “Your father—may he rot in hell —was responsible for Donnie’s murder when that PeaceMaker made the nuclear reactor explode. You should at least have the decency to say you’re sorry for what that bastard did. First Minister Jordan says you’re a computer freak, too. The government ought to lock you up and throw away the key.”
The picture went blank.
So that’s what set it off. A stupid speech by that maniac Adam Jordan. Shit. If they target me, this could get dangerous.
The old anger came back, fresh and raw. He would not let these bastards push him around again.
PeaceMaker was my father’s crime, not mine. My father, damn him.
He spit the toast out of his mouth.
The bastard.
As suddenly as it came, the storm passed. There wasn’t any point in getting worked up, he decided. The anger simmered, but he’d get through it.
“Eliminate all the messages in my mailbox except those from people I know.”
All but a few messages disappeared. His mother had messaged several times, warning him to stay out of class for a few days. That bastard Jordan was heating things up again, no doubt to recruit converts for his miserable church.
Too bad he didn’t have a class today. At least he could go over to the library, as if he was looking up something in that slower-than-shit computer system. Screw them.
Only one message remained. Sent from a public database, the message had been created a decade earlier. Curious, he selected it.
His father stared at him from across the years, a broad-shouldered man with big hands tapping nervously on his desk.
David gaped at the once-familiar image. Unruly salt and pepper hair flopped over a forehead lined with deep creases, but it was the intensity in his father’s dark eyes that mesmerized David.
The man began to speak, slowly, quietly. “Dear David, receiving a message from your father after all these years must be quite a shock, and I’m sorry for that. You’re twenty-one now, old enough to learn what happened directly from me. By chance, I discovered a lethal virus in the Atlas operating system, and I have decided to do everything in my power to defeat it and expose the people who developed it. I’m scared and I thought about walking away from it, but I can’t do it. Since you received this message, I must have failed and my enemies captured or killed me. You see, this message was set to release automatically in 2022 unless I deleted it. God, I can only hope they were stopped before they unleashed the virus.
“It was great to see you last weekend. You are probably building computer systems I couldn’t even imagine. You’re growing into a fine young man.” There was a catch in his voice. “I am so proud of you.” His father paused for a moment to regain his composure. “I’m not very good at giving a speech, and I won’t try to do that today. I wasn’t as good a father as you deserved. I drank too much and I wasn’t always there when you needed me. Your mother deserves all the credit for helping you grow up as well as you have. But know this—I love you very much.”
His father pushed a strand of hair back from his forehead. “I guess that’s all I have to say. I don’t know what kind of world exists in 2022, but I hope it’s good for you.”
The sadness in his father’s voice settled like a damp winter day into David’s bones.
“Goodbye … I wish it could have been different … live fully and honorably … that’s all.”
Stunned, David played the message again. He tried to capture every word, every inflection. The message appeared to be authentic—why would anyone fake it after all these years?
Slowly the enormity of the message sank in; was it possible his father was not the monster who had infected the net with the PeaceMaker virus? If this message was true, his father had not been responsible for all the death and destruction when the computers shut down. Just the opposite. He had lost his life trying to stop the criminals responsible for the catastrophe.
He felt sick. His head ached, but this wasn’t a normal headache. The pain seemed to flow right into his mind. He hadn’t suffered an attack like this for years, since PeaceMaker had been terminated. David buried his head in his arms and closed his eyes. The stench of roadside kill drifted into his senses as in a dream. Pain … disquieting sensations … more pain. An image formed in the shadows of his mind. The image twisted and vibrated, like an insect escaping a cocoon, but remained hazy. Then he understood … an entity was coming across the net, coming for him. His mind’s eye strained to see through the darkness … the image twisted into the shape of a child, but it wasn’t flesh and blood. All his senses warned him of danger.
David readied for the confrontation. A stone blasted through his kitchen window, spraying shards of glass across the room, bringing him out of his trance. He dived to the floor as a second stone hurled through the window and crashed into his refrigerator. A barrage of stones pelted his windows, and he scrambled under the table.
Angry voices came from the ground, and another volley of stones smashed through the windows. Sirens wailed in the distance, and he prayed it was the police coming to rescue him. Stones continued to fly through the windows, splintering the remaining glass and crashing into the walls and ceiling. The siren grew louder, but it seemed to be taking forever.
He heard voices from the exterior hallway, then a loud crash. Someone was trying to knock down his door! His only weapon was a baseball bat in the bedroom closet. He scrambled across the kitchen floor on his hands and knees. He reached up, opened the closet door and searched for the bat. Loud thuds as someone tried to kick in the door. He found the bat and got ready to swing it at anyone who broke in.
A voice yelled, “Cops,” and several people ran down the exterior hall.
Another volley of stones crashed through the bedroom window. He scrambled back under the kitchen table. Excited voices came through the windows, and he thought he heard a policeman shouting orders. Gradually, it grew quiet outside, except for a pulsing siren. Still holding the bat, he crept to the kitchen window and peeked out. A few demonstrators were in the street, but the police had them under control.
One grubby-looking guy spotted David in the window and shouted obscenities. David gave him the finger then crunched through broken glass back to the kitchen table. NewBuddy was stretched out on the floor, his chest dented by a rock.
A policeman came in to see if he was okay, and glanced around at the damage. He seemed annoyed to be there and left without saying much.
David went back to the splintered kitchen window and watched the police drag away the few remaining demonstrators. He doubted anyone would be charged.
He looked around at his apartment, littered with stones and broken glass. It was getting chilly, but he didn’t care.
After staring blankly out the window for some time, he realized he was pressing hard on the windowsill, leaving his fingertips white and sore. The demonstrators were gone. A lone policeman stood at the front door of the apartment building.
David pulled a sheet off his bed and tacked it over the bedroom window, then did the same in the kitchen. He swept up the broken glass, poured a glass of cola and sat down at the kitchen table.
His father was responsible for this.
Years before, he had concluded that his father had failed at all the important things in life. Sure, the man had it tough, but he failed big-time. His father had led a sad life, beginning with a dysfunctional family. He had fought alcoholism, never winning but never giving up either. The man had tried to be a good husband and father. When he had been sober, when he had been there for them, he was terrific. They just never knew which Raymond Brown they would get. And in the end, they got a failed man.
But how do I really know Dad wasn’t guilty? Maybe the message is a clever fake. Maybe he was creating an alibi in case things failed. Or maybe he was just a psycho after all.
David pressed his forehead against the table. Damn you, Dad, you bastard, you loser. Damn you, wherever you are. He couldn’t think of enough curses to burn out his rage, and they kept tumbling through his mind.
He couldn’t go on like this—he had to get to the truth. A lot more than an old message would be necessary to demonstrate his father’s innocence—if he was innocent. Those responsible for creating PeaceMaker had concocted a convincing lie, so getting to the truth would be tough. A decade had passed, plenty of time to destroy all the evidence of his father’s innocence, if there was any.
If my father is innocent, and I do this, the people who killed him will come after me.
Yet he had to do it. If he could prove his father wasn’t guilty, the family name would be cleared. All the hatred would disappear; they could live like normal people.
He wouldn’t fail. He wasn’t like his father. He would find out whether his father was innocent or guilty—wherever the truth took him. He’d get to the core and finally understand that strange, complex man.
Then he could free himself.
Maybe.
To David’s surprise, he felt strangely alive. For the first time in his life, he had a clear goal: he would finally learn what made his father tick. If Dad was innocent, David would clear the family name and bring the bastards to justice.
He glanced around at his broken apartment. He’d have to be careful, or his father’s killers would discover his search. He swallowed hard. And there was that creature coming over the net.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
A Thousand Visits in a Day
I was thrilled to have one thousand people visit my website in one day last week. When I set up my website/blog last May, I anticipated a small community of visitors, but the idea of peering into the near future seems to have struck a chord.
I’m an avid reader and writer of ideas dealing with the next few decades. Although I love science fiction --- I grew up with the original Star Trek --- it’s the near future that really captures my attention. Things are evolving so quickly, just trying to imagine our little planet in twenty or thirty years stretches the intellect and imagination. Although a few visionaries have looked into the near future (Orwell, Kurzweil, Dick, etc), it remains almost virgin territory for hard science fiction and techno thrillers.
Initially, my website was focused on my two near future thrillers, PeaceMaker and Unholy Domain. Although these novels illustrate a possible future dominated by rapid advances in artificial intelligence, robotics and genetic engineering, this represent just one possible outcome. I gradually realized my website had to be much more encompassing.
First, I added book reviews of both fiction and non-fiction dealing with the near future. Heck, I’m reading these books anyway, so why not add a brief review? If you read the recommended non-fiction, you’ll gain a solid understanding of advanced technologies and their likely impact over the next few decades. Also read the recommended tech thrillers and hard science fiction. In addition to being thrilling and entertaining, the authors of these novels stick to the possible in crafting their stories. After reading these novels, it’s not difficult to image a compelling variety of different futures.
These days, people communicate with video clips as well as the written word, so I decided to periodically search the Internet for the best videos dealing with advanced technologies. Short clips are a great way to illustrate the more visual aspects of technologies, especially when being introduced to a new concept. And these clips are compelling; I find myself going back and watching them over and over.
Guest authors were another new concept. There is great writing about advanced technology on the net, and a few authors encourage wide distribution of their work at no charge. Whenever I come across this type of article, I post it on my website.
However, there are far more articles and videos on the net than I can read, so I decided to include a news service focused on technology. Forbes provides a terrific news service, constantly updated with hi-tech articles and videos, so I posted their widget on my website.
Last but not least is my blog. It’s a place where I can expose all the ideas and observations that come to mind regarding the near future. Over time, I’ve broadened the scope to include my weird sense of humor, current events and just plain rants. A bit eclectic, but hopefully enjoyable.
So that’s my website. Come and visit me at www.danronco.com and see for yourself.
I’m an avid reader and writer of ideas dealing with the next few decades. Although I love science fiction --- I grew up with the original Star Trek --- it’s the near future that really captures my attention. Things are evolving so quickly, just trying to imagine our little planet in twenty or thirty years stretches the intellect and imagination. Although a few visionaries have looked into the near future (Orwell, Kurzweil, Dick, etc), it remains almost virgin territory for hard science fiction and techno thrillers.
Initially, my website was focused on my two near future thrillers, PeaceMaker and Unholy Domain. Although these novels illustrate a possible future dominated by rapid advances in artificial intelligence, robotics and genetic engineering, this represent just one possible outcome. I gradually realized my website had to be much more encompassing.
First, I added book reviews of both fiction and non-fiction dealing with the near future. Heck, I’m reading these books anyway, so why not add a brief review? If you read the recommended non-fiction, you’ll gain a solid understanding of advanced technologies and their likely impact over the next few decades. Also read the recommended tech thrillers and hard science fiction. In addition to being thrilling and entertaining, the authors of these novels stick to the possible in crafting their stories. After reading these novels, it’s not difficult to image a compelling variety of different futures.
These days, people communicate with video clips as well as the written word, so I decided to periodically search the Internet for the best videos dealing with advanced technologies. Short clips are a great way to illustrate the more visual aspects of technologies, especially when being introduced to a new concept. And these clips are compelling; I find myself going back and watching them over and over.
Guest authors were another new concept. There is great writing about advanced technology on the net, and a few authors encourage wide distribution of their work at no charge. Whenever I come across this type of article, I post it on my website.
However, there are far more articles and videos on the net than I can read, so I decided to include a news service focused on technology. Forbes provides a terrific news service, constantly updated with hi-tech articles and videos, so I posted their widget on my website.
Last but not least is my blog. It’s a place where I can expose all the ideas and observations that come to mind regarding the near future. Over time, I’ve broadened the scope to include my weird sense of humor, current events and just plain rants. A bit eclectic, but hopefully enjoyable.
So that’s my website. Come and visit me at www.danronco.com and see for yourself.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Count, a Wonderful Musical
I’ve known Paul Nasto a long time. We worked together at Microsoft ten years earlier, and we have remained close friends. We both had a passion for technology and loved building computer systems that contributed real value to our clients. But we had second loves, too: Paul with his music and me with my writing.
A couple of years ago, Paul and his friend David Whitehead established Creative Ventures, a partnership committed to the development and commission of new works for the theatre and screen. The company’s first work, The Count, is a stunning musical, a romantic yet tragic story of a young French sailor, Edmond Dantes, who is wrongfully accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Stolen from his betrothal feast and the side of his fiancé, Mercedes, he spends 14 years in the Chateau d’If, an island prison off the coast of France.
His accusers, a jealous sailor (Fernand) and a greedy bookkeeper (Danglars) convince an ambitious and aspiring assistant prosecutor (de Villefort) to use Dantes as the route to profit and power. With the help of a fellow prisoner priest (the Abbe), Dantes uncovers his fate and the identity of the individuals responsible for his demise. On the priest’s deathbed, he tells Dantes of a great fortune hidden away on the island Monte Cristo. After escaping from the prison and finding the treasure, Dantes plots his return only to find his mother dead and his wife married to his nemesis (Fernand). With careful planning and unbridled wealth and influence, Dantes seeks his revenge.
The Count is a musical depiction of a story of retribution and redemption: a compelling, but haunting story of a man’s unstoppable quest for revenge. His desire for vengeance conflicts with his desire for faith and love, unleashing a complex, internal struggle for recompense and peace. However, his pursuit of justice ends in consequences that are worse than death.
I’m make no claim to expertise regarding musical composition, but the music is beautiful. It’s powerful and spellbinding. Listen to it yourself on the Creative Ventures website. A word of warning — set aside half an hour or more, this is not a typical pop in, pop out website.
Paul and David have created wonderful musical and I’m looking forward to seeing it on stage not too far in the future. It’s my dream that Paul and I, with our works, each bring a few hours of enjoyment to an enthusiastic audience..
A couple of years ago, Paul and his friend David Whitehead established Creative Ventures, a partnership committed to the development and commission of new works for the theatre and screen. The company’s first work, The Count, is a stunning musical, a romantic yet tragic story of a young French sailor, Edmond Dantes, who is wrongfully accused of a crime he didn’t commit. Stolen from his betrothal feast and the side of his fiancé, Mercedes, he spends 14 years in the Chateau d’If, an island prison off the coast of France.
His accusers, a jealous sailor (Fernand) and a greedy bookkeeper (Danglars) convince an ambitious and aspiring assistant prosecutor (de Villefort) to use Dantes as the route to profit and power. With the help of a fellow prisoner priest (the Abbe), Dantes uncovers his fate and the identity of the individuals responsible for his demise. On the priest’s deathbed, he tells Dantes of a great fortune hidden away on the island Monte Cristo. After escaping from the prison and finding the treasure, Dantes plots his return only to find his mother dead and his wife married to his nemesis (Fernand). With careful planning and unbridled wealth and influence, Dantes seeks his revenge.
The Count is a musical depiction of a story of retribution and redemption: a compelling, but haunting story of a man’s unstoppable quest for revenge. His desire for vengeance conflicts with his desire for faith and love, unleashing a complex, internal struggle for recompense and peace. However, his pursuit of justice ends in consequences that are worse than death.
I’m make no claim to expertise regarding musical composition, but the music is beautiful. It’s powerful and spellbinding. Listen to it yourself on the Creative Ventures website. A word of warning — set aside half an hour or more, this is not a typical pop in, pop out website.
Paul and David have created wonderful musical and I’m looking forward to seeing it on stage not too far in the future. It’s my dream that Paul and I, with our works, each bring a few hours of enjoyment to an enthusiastic audience..
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Unholy Domain in the stores !
Purchase a copy of Unholy Domain and support the author. That would be me. The books are actually a couple of weeks early, but I’m not complaining. It’s available on Amazon and most other booksellers. UD is a great read, a thriller with a very different perspective.
Dan
Dan
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Technology vs. Religion: Discussion Issues
Some things just don't mend. Well into the twenty-first century, we're still facing the same old problem: conflict between religion and science. Most of the conflict is verbal, often quite heated, but at least the faithful and secular sides aren't violent. Much more serious is the warfare between open, democratic societies and the Islamic fundamentalists who hate us.
What's going on here?
Well, whatever it is, it's been going on for centuries. An old song that just keeps playing, even though nobody likes the tune. For example, there's the old standby of evolution versus creationism. Seems like that argument has been with us forever.
Even though we can't resolve the old issues, new ones keep piling on. A good one (well, not really a good one) is the issue of homosexuality. Scientists have concluded that homosexuality is a completely natural sexual orientation occurring in a small minority, caused mainly by genetics. On the other hand, religious conservatives believe that it is an unnatural, sinful state chosen by or taught to the individual. How do you bridge that gap?
And then there are the emerging issues, the ones just beginning to come into view. These may be the most difficult of all. In Unholy Domain, I attempt to describe the oncoming issue of artificial intelligence versus natural humanity. Pay attention to Adam Jordan, the First Minister of the Church of Natural Humans, speaking to his congregation in 2022:
"Listen carefully to what Lucifer says," Jordan said, his voice cracking. He swallowed, watching the faithful, his passion pressed to the limit. He took a breath, then another. "He offers this bargain: through technology, he will restore our civilization to a greater level of material riches. In order to gain this wealth, you must allow the Technos to create artificial beings, godless abominations that will rule the earth. But even that is just a step along the path to an even viler future. The elements of our human bodies and minds are to be replaced, step by step, with synthetic genes and artificial components. Humans are to evolve into a new species. Technological Man they call it."
"Never," cried a female voice among the believers. Others echoed her cry.
"Now why is the Devil doing this?" Jordan asked. "Why?" He paused, looking across the crowd. "The reason is simple, yet horrible beyond belief. In this secular world, your soul is your link to God. When the Devil replaces aspects of your humanity with artificial components, he weakens your connection to the Lord. When he inserts a synthetic gene into your body, he disrupts God's plan. At some point, as your humanity shrinks and the artificiality grows, the link to the Lord will be severed. And when the Devil destroys that link, it's gone forever."
Maybe a touch dramatic, but Unholy Domain provides a glimpse of what's just around the corner. It's not pretty, but if we prepare for the conflict, we can mitigate it.
Maybe.
Discussion questions
1. Should we enhance capabilities such as intelligence, athletic ability, beauty or health through gene manipulation or artificial components? If so, who gets the enhancements?
2. Should human cloning be permitted?
3. Should an intelligent robot have the same rights as a human?
4. Does God care if we evolve into a new species?
5. Should we allow artificial intelligence to approach and possibly surpass human intelligence?
Visit my website to investigate these issues.
What's going on here?
Well, whatever it is, it's been going on for centuries. An old song that just keeps playing, even though nobody likes the tune. For example, there's the old standby of evolution versus creationism. Seems like that argument has been with us forever.
Even though we can't resolve the old issues, new ones keep piling on. A good one (well, not really a good one) is the issue of homosexuality. Scientists have concluded that homosexuality is a completely natural sexual orientation occurring in a small minority, caused mainly by genetics. On the other hand, religious conservatives believe that it is an unnatural, sinful state chosen by or taught to the individual. How do you bridge that gap?
And then there are the emerging issues, the ones just beginning to come into view. These may be the most difficult of all. In Unholy Domain, I attempt to describe the oncoming issue of artificial intelligence versus natural humanity. Pay attention to Adam Jordan, the First Minister of the Church of Natural Humans, speaking to his congregation in 2022:
"Listen carefully to what Lucifer says," Jordan said, his voice cracking. He swallowed, watching the faithful, his passion pressed to the limit. He took a breath, then another. "He offers this bargain: through technology, he will restore our civilization to a greater level of material riches. In order to gain this wealth, you must allow the Technos to create artificial beings, godless abominations that will rule the earth. But even that is just a step along the path to an even viler future. The elements of our human bodies and minds are to be replaced, step by step, with synthetic genes and artificial components. Humans are to evolve into a new species. Technological Man they call it."
"Never," cried a female voice among the believers. Others echoed her cry.
"Now why is the Devil doing this?" Jordan asked. "Why?" He paused, looking across the crowd. "The reason is simple, yet horrible beyond belief. In this secular world, your soul is your link to God. When the Devil replaces aspects of your humanity with artificial components, he weakens your connection to the Lord. When he inserts a synthetic gene into your body, he disrupts God's plan. At some point, as your humanity shrinks and the artificiality grows, the link to the Lord will be severed. And when the Devil destroys that link, it's gone forever."
Maybe a touch dramatic, but Unholy Domain provides a glimpse of what's just around the corner. It's not pretty, but if we prepare for the conflict, we can mitigate it.
Maybe.
Discussion questions
1. Should we enhance capabilities such as intelligence, athletic ability, beauty or health through gene manipulation or artificial components? If so, who gets the enhancements?
2. Should human cloning be permitted?
3. Should an intelligent robot have the same rights as a human?
4. Does God care if we evolve into a new species?
5. Should we allow artificial intelligence to approach and possibly surpass human intelligence?
Visit my website to investigate these issues.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Are Women becoming too Masculine?
Dan Ronco’s two novels are set the near future: PeaceMaker in 2012 and Unholy Domain in 2022. In the initial planning for these novels, Ronco researched trends in technology and Western culture, with the objective to make the settings realistic. He tested this research against a lifetime of observation, and solicited feedback from reviewers and writers. What Ronco discovered led him to create a balance of power between the sexes in both novels, rather than the usual dominant male protagonists.
It became clear to Ronco that the two genders were moving toward each other in world view, attitude and actions. Women were becoming more like men and men more like women (but that’s a subject for another time). Ronco doesn’t claim this is a conclusion based upon rigorous scientific procedures, but however informal, it makes sense.
When men think about women, they always focus first on appearance, so start there. Is she pretty? Not too heavy, but with plenty of curves? Soft, pure face of an angel? Those are the questions men asked thirty years ago, and they still ask them today, but the women have changed.
Today’s females are bigger and more athletic than previous generations. Go to any workout facility and what do you see? Plenty of women. And not just doing aerobics, either. Pumping iron, pushups, building their strength against all manner of exercise machines. They’re dropping baby fat and showing off lean, hard muscles. Not that they are becoming bodybuilders (although some do), but they are not the women of your mother’s generation either.
Drive around town and you’ll certainly come across a jogger. What’s the gender most of the time? And she’s probably setting a fast pace, too.
Muscles are no longer solely a masculine domain. Check out the ladies playing basketball or tennis, let alone the boxers. Not a wimp in the bunch. Title IX has opened the door for women to excel at sports, and they are succeeding. You want to see Serena Williams or Mary Pierce getting ready to serve a cannonball at you? Even the most athletic men aren’t that foolhardy. That doesn’t mean today’s women aren’t as beautiful or sexy as previous generations. Some men think they look better, actually, with their lean, athletic figures.
Okay, they look different, but what about their attitudes? The way they lead their lives?
Back in the fifties, college was primarily a man’s domain. Now the majority of underclasspeople (is that right?) are women. Women mature more rapidly than men and do better in their studies. They graduate at a higher rate and move into the professions. Some would say they’ve swarmed into the professions, shouldering men out the door as they pushed in. A guy risks getting trampled if he holds a door open.
Women start most of the small businesses in North America. Not many people know that. A few decades ago, if someone telephoned a doctor, lawyer or accountant, a masculine voice came over the line. Not any longer. It’s more likely the voice will be pitched higher and smoother.
The writing profession has gone the same way. Most readers and writers seem to be women. Pick up a novel at random and the author’s name usually begins with Karin or Nancy or … get the picture? There are still a lot of guys turning out thrillers and science fiction, but that’s changing, too.
Remember how, a couple of generations ago, women would spend much of their time searching for a man to marry? When all they wanted was a home, a child and a good husband to take care of them? Well, today’s gals are in no rush to get married. They have options. They think the way guys think. Date, have fun, get some action but don’t rush into marriage. Get the career started, then, maybe, think about family. And keep working. It’s a significant break with the past.
Why have women done so well? Attitude and opportunity. Fifty years ago women were locked out of many of the opportunities men enjoyed, but that’s changed now. With a few exceptions, such as really dangerous or heavy physical work, women can do anything a man can do. And women have just as much determination, courage and brains as men. Combine that with sexuality and they can get where they want to go, maybe with more options than men. Actually, it seems men are outgunned.
However, an objective person must admit to be generally positive about today’s women. Yes, the women are becoming more like men, but that’s better for them and for the guys, too. But there’s a negative side.
When a woman starts a business, she has to work like crazy to make it successful. If she’s a single mom, what happens to her children? Daycare is usually okay, but it’s not the same as having a full-time mother. If she’s married, the man will pick up some of the slack, right? He’ll try, but remember, he’s got his career, too. And there aren’t many stay-at-home Dads. We discovered that society doesn’t respect a guy who relies upon his wife to be the bread winner.
There are more women in prison than ever before. Just like men, some aggressive, the rules-don’t-apply-to-me women take what they want. White collar crime, violence, sexual predators, the whole nine yards. And what’s going on with these female teachers who seduce their high school, even grammar school, students? This rarely happened way back when. Damn!
Too many women are waiting too long to get married. They’re going out to the bars, drinking, flirting, having sex with any guy that appeals to them. Wait, this was supposed to be a negative. Sorry about that.
You get the idea, right. Women are becoming more masculine in Western society, and it seems to be working out, but there have been bumps in the road. And a few potholes. Quite a few.
And so, as Ronco outlined his novels, he decided that the female characters would not be crammed into the stereotypes found in many stories. Take Dianne Morgan, the most dominant character to emerge from his novels. She’s the real mover and shaker, the person driving the action across both books. Dianne is the CEO of a giant software company, a single mother and a self-made billionaire. Sexy, sometimes tender and very determined. On the other hand, she’s violent, erratic, and trusts no one. Fits the description of a masculine villain, doesn’t she (except for the single mother part)?
Dianne is an example — maybe a bit extreme — of today’s alpha woman. With three male partners, she grows a business from startup to giant corporation. She uses all the weapons nature provided to become CEO of the world’s largest software maker. Ray Brown is her key acquisition, a brilliant software engineer who has developed an intelligent operating system that understands the spoken language. Just like the computer in Star Trek. She knows all other software will be made obsolete, so she recruits Ray, then seduces him. He’s married, but business is business. Ray becomes an alcoholic, loses his family, winds up in rehab, but what the hell, Dianne has the software. She actually cares for him, but first things first.
Any logical person must conclude that the gap between men and women is closing. In 2008, the balance, with all the plus and minus factors, seems just about right. Unfortunately, the wheel is still spinning, and it may settle at a point where the Dianne Morgan’s of the world become the norm.
It became clear to Ronco that the two genders were moving toward each other in world view, attitude and actions. Women were becoming more like men and men more like women (but that’s a subject for another time). Ronco doesn’t claim this is a conclusion based upon rigorous scientific procedures, but however informal, it makes sense.
When men think about women, they always focus first on appearance, so start there. Is she pretty? Not too heavy, but with plenty of curves? Soft, pure face of an angel? Those are the questions men asked thirty years ago, and they still ask them today, but the women have changed.
Today’s females are bigger and more athletic than previous generations. Go to any workout facility and what do you see? Plenty of women. And not just doing aerobics, either. Pumping iron, pushups, building their strength against all manner of exercise machines. They’re dropping baby fat and showing off lean, hard muscles. Not that they are becoming bodybuilders (although some do), but they are not the women of your mother’s generation either.
Drive around town and you’ll certainly come across a jogger. What’s the gender most of the time? And she’s probably setting a fast pace, too.
Muscles are no longer solely a masculine domain. Check out the ladies playing basketball or tennis, let alone the boxers. Not a wimp in the bunch. Title IX has opened the door for women to excel at sports, and they are succeeding. You want to see Serena Williams or Mary Pierce getting ready to serve a cannonball at you? Even the most athletic men aren’t that foolhardy. That doesn’t mean today’s women aren’t as beautiful or sexy as previous generations. Some men think they look better, actually, with their lean, athletic figures.
Okay, they look different, but what about their attitudes? The way they lead their lives?
Back in the fifties, college was primarily a man’s domain. Now the majority of underclasspeople (is that right?) are women. Women mature more rapidly than men and do better in their studies. They graduate at a higher rate and move into the professions. Some would say they’ve swarmed into the professions, shouldering men out the door as they pushed in. A guy risks getting trampled if he holds a door open.
Women start most of the small businesses in North America. Not many people know that. A few decades ago, if someone telephoned a doctor, lawyer or accountant, a masculine voice came over the line. Not any longer. It’s more likely the voice will be pitched higher and smoother.
The writing profession has gone the same way. Most readers and writers seem to be women. Pick up a novel at random and the author’s name usually begins with Karin or Nancy or … get the picture? There are still a lot of guys turning out thrillers and science fiction, but that’s changing, too.
Remember how, a couple of generations ago, women would spend much of their time searching for a man to marry? When all they wanted was a home, a child and a good husband to take care of them? Well, today’s gals are in no rush to get married. They have options. They think the way guys think. Date, have fun, get some action but don’t rush into marriage. Get the career started, then, maybe, think about family. And keep working. It’s a significant break with the past.
Why have women done so well? Attitude and opportunity. Fifty years ago women were locked out of many of the opportunities men enjoyed, but that’s changed now. With a few exceptions, such as really dangerous or heavy physical work, women can do anything a man can do. And women have just as much determination, courage and brains as men. Combine that with sexuality and they can get where they want to go, maybe with more options than men. Actually, it seems men are outgunned.
However, an objective person must admit to be generally positive about today’s women. Yes, the women are becoming more like men, but that’s better for them and for the guys, too. But there’s a negative side.
When a woman starts a business, she has to work like crazy to make it successful. If she’s a single mom, what happens to her children? Daycare is usually okay, but it’s not the same as having a full-time mother. If she’s married, the man will pick up some of the slack, right? He’ll try, but remember, he’s got his career, too. And there aren’t many stay-at-home Dads. We discovered that society doesn’t respect a guy who relies upon his wife to be the bread winner.
There are more women in prison than ever before. Just like men, some aggressive, the rules-don’t-apply-to-me women take what they want. White collar crime, violence, sexual predators, the whole nine yards. And what’s going on with these female teachers who seduce their high school, even grammar school, students? This rarely happened way back when. Damn!
Too many women are waiting too long to get married. They’re going out to the bars, drinking, flirting, having sex with any guy that appeals to them. Wait, this was supposed to be a negative. Sorry about that.
You get the idea, right. Women are becoming more masculine in Western society, and it seems to be working out, but there have been bumps in the road. And a few potholes. Quite a few.
And so, as Ronco outlined his novels, he decided that the female characters would not be crammed into the stereotypes found in many stories. Take Dianne Morgan, the most dominant character to emerge from his novels. She’s the real mover and shaker, the person driving the action across both books. Dianne is the CEO of a giant software company, a single mother and a self-made billionaire. Sexy, sometimes tender and very determined. On the other hand, she’s violent, erratic, and trusts no one. Fits the description of a masculine villain, doesn’t she (except for the single mother part)?
Dianne is an example — maybe a bit extreme — of today’s alpha woman. With three male partners, she grows a business from startup to giant corporation. She uses all the weapons nature provided to become CEO of the world’s largest software maker. Ray Brown is her key acquisition, a brilliant software engineer who has developed an intelligent operating system that understands the spoken language. Just like the computer in Star Trek. She knows all other software will be made obsolete, so she recruits Ray, then seduces him. He’s married, but business is business. Ray becomes an alcoholic, loses his family, winds up in rehab, but what the hell, Dianne has the software. She actually cares for him, but first things first.
Any logical person must conclude that the gap between men and women is closing. In 2008, the balance, with all the plus and minus factors, seems just about right. Unfortunately, the wheel is still spinning, and it may settle at a point where the Dianne Morgan’s of the world become the norm.
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