Although this shirt is kind of a Star Wars parody (if you’ve seen the movies, you’ll get the joke), it’s still pretty nerdy. Especially because I would have bought it regardless of the text, as long as the Death Star was readily apparent. Which leads me to today’s subject: science fiction.
I’ve talked about it several times on this blog, but for those of you who aren’t regular readers, let me tell you a secret: The first novel I ever wrote (the entirety of which will never see the light of day) was a fantasy story about a girl with these random magical powers. It was a mix of romance, kidnapping, murder, medieval, and magic. Here’s an excerpt to give you an idea of how crazy I was in 7th grade:
“Preparations took all night. People either made, wielded, or were briefed on the use of all kinds of weapons. Even the children would fight. Plans and field layouts were discussed and drawn out. The majority of the battle would take place at the dividing line of the two territories.
I was to lead the army. As leader, a lot of my job was to convince my sergeants and corporals to trust Daray, and to help Daray adjust to being good. But also I had to over-see some of the weapon practices, recruit people, and promote certain individuals to higher and more demanding posts. Every so often, I would even help crafters make bows and arrows.
Tristan, who had no skills in anything other than basketball, agreed to stay behind and watch the younger Daggerthads (infants to seven-year-olds).
Starstud, my second in command, had just as much work to do as me. She taught most of the weapon classes, disciplined, and also helped make a lot of the swords.
Daray earned respect with many when he created perfect throwing knives and also taught classes that Starstud did not. I caught him watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I was too busy to put much thought into it.
It was a long night, but well worth it, as now we looked like a professional army, not a mob of deranged townspeople.
Just before we marched, I was in my room, struggling into some special armor that would protect me from all types of arrows.
Everything else, like throwing knives and swords, I would have to deal with myself. The armor was made for a close, tight fit, so it was almost like a second skin. It shimmered yellow, red, and gold, like flames.
My sword was sheathed and on the bed, as was my belt that had been packed with throwing knives and a contractible shield. My magic was only to be used in times of dearest need. Once I got the armor on, I would put on a long red skirt nearly to my ankles. It was flowing, but it would be useful to hide various smaller weapons. All the fighting women wore them.
Daray came in from the room next to mine, no doubt hearing the commotion I was making as I attempted to put on my armor. He rolled his eyes and helped me into it. As my fifth in command, he too wore armor like this. Starstud, and my third and fourth in command also did. Once I was suited up and my sword and belt in place, we walked out of the room together.
We were silent as we crossed the town. Just before I walked into the pavilion where the army was waiting, Daray pulled me behind a shed.
He said nothing, just stared into my eyes. For the first time since I found out I was the Chosen One, I truly relaxed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.
I found that I was afraid to breathe.
His kiss was warm and sweet. I felt myself almost literally melting into him. When he finally let me go, all he whispered was “Please don’t die,†And walked into the pavilion.”
Sorry. I can’t help but burst into hysterics every time I read anything from this story. Anyways, you get the picture, right?
Fantasy and science fiction are often lumped into the same category, but the truth is, they’re very different genres. See, I could get away with writing fantasy when I was 12. But I wasn’t smart enough -I’m still not smart enough- to write science fiction. In SciFi, you have to actually know stuff. I could make up whatever I wanted in fantasy, but in SF, you actually have to structure the story around some sort of science. Some sort of theory.
And I am so unGodly jealous of anyone who can actually pull of science fiction. I loved Star Wars, even the first three (chronologically), I loved the new Star Trek, and now I’m falling in love with Battlestar Galactica. I saw Star Trek four times in theaters, and when the first Star Wars came out (the one with Jake Lloyd as little Anakin), I probably saw it just as many times. The latter came out in 1999- I was 7.
Maybe someday I’ll take a sufficient physics class to bolster my writing ability in this area, but I doubt it. I suppose I’ll always be the not-quite-nerdy-enough fan waving around my “live long and prosper” hand signal and my lightsaber.
Spock… I will always love you, even though I’m not nearly smart enough to deserve you. <3
