Ubiquitous Bubba's Blog

(Looks around to make sure no one else is listening …) Want to save some money? Keep your voice down. I’ve got a code that will give you a 20% discount on my new novel, Timeslice at the Smashwords store.

(Clasps a hand over your mouth …) Look, you really need to keep it down. Yes, for a little while, you can save some money. This code is only good until September 8. No, I’m not kidding.

(Pulls you around the corner and leans back into the shadows …) Click on this link, Timeslice (smashwords.com). When you click the Buy button, enter this coupon code: WB32T and you’ll save 20%. Honestly, will you please stop jumping up and down?

When you’ve gotten over your shock (and stopped that incessant high-pitched squealing noise), find a quiet corner and check it out. No, there’s no need to thank me. Just enjoy your book. Pay no attention to the author slinking into the darkness.

(Slinks into the darkness …)

I don’t want to alarm you, but Timeslice has escaped. My newest book has broken free and is now popping up all over the Internet. I’ll give you a minute to clean up that coffee spill.

Timeslice is the story of Q9, a lab assistant in a future university, and Neon, the AI living in his head. (Yes, everyone else thinks it’s weird that he considers his AI as a separate entity.) In Q9’s time, no one in higher education ascends to the title of Lord Doctor without learning to get an assistant to test your prototype time travel device for you. There’s only one rule: Don’t change anything in the past. Doing so may cause a timeslice fracture. No, that’s bad.

Q9 and his friends will need to deal with temporal agents, malevolent AI, a time traveling thief, past selves, lost civilizations, grapes, cyborgs, a vicious Chihuahua, and possible erasure from time. I’ll pause while you take another sip. Go ahead.

So, if you were considering strapping on your own timeslice device and jumping into the past, I recommend picking up this book before you go. You do not want to find yourself on the wrong side of a fracture without this book. Well, you probably don’t want to end up on the wrong side at all, but if you do, it may be too late to jump forward in time to get it.

Timeslice is available at all of the finer eBook stores. Here’s a link to find them. Timeslice (books2read.com)

One other thing. If your Physics professor asks you to try out his experimental time travel device, consider changing your major.

A commonly used temporal theory suggests that the future is infinitely variable, with an infinite number of possible futures (or universes) branching out from every choice made in the present. In the normal flow of time, the past is “fixed” with any changes being made in the present, thus creating (or selecting) the future. What if the reverse was true? What if the past was variable and the future was predetermined? Changes made in the past could impact our present but would ultimately have no significant impact on the future.

Don’t drop your chips. I know this may be upsetting. It’s just a theory (for now). The idea is that despite all efforts to the contrary, Time will eventually sort itself out and end up where it was heading. If necessary, Time could fracture, breaking off a particularly unruly slice of Time that refused to behave, and continue on its way. “But,” you exclaim, scattering crumbs and losing the remote in the cushions. “Humans are in charge of our own destiny.” It’s funny that you still think so.

The Predetermined Future theory presents time travelers with a few problems, of course. If a time traveler jumps back from our time jumps into the past to interfere with history, they may effect minor changes, only to have history course correct and end up relatively unchanged. On the other hand, a time traveler from a more distant future could jump back to the same event, get creative, and completely trash our present while leaving the far future unchanged. It gets messy.

In my newest book, Timeslice, time travelers must blunder through these issues while trying to avoid being erased by a timeslice fracture. That is bad, by the way. Yes, even worse than digging through the recliner cushions for the remote and finding last month’s raisins. No, you can’t (successfully) blame time travel for those.

Anyway, Timeslice becomes available next week. Floating on the back of Time the way we do; we don’t always get the opportunity to peer downstream to see what’s coming. In this case, you can pre-order a copy of the Timeslice eBook and relax. For a brief moment, you’ll have a glimpse of foreknowledge. Assumming your timeslice doesn’t fracture between now and then, that is.

They say it’s good to try new things, but that’s not always the case. Cuddling with crocodiles may be a new experience, but that doesn’t make it a good idea. Sometimes, taking a good thing to a new extreme can have unpleasant results. These events are often prefaced with the phrase, “Dude, watch this.” Occasionally, there can be other memorable phrases, such as, “I can make that jump”, “Hey, look, a bear cub,” or “I know what I’m doing.”

That being said, I just tried something new. In writing my newest book, I experimented with a different technique. My main character, Q9, talks to an AI personality in his head, so the book is primarily written as dialogue. It gave me a chance to have a character have an ongoing conversation with an internal voice. I don’t know about your internal characters, but mine like to hog my snacks. They point crumb covered fingers at one another, but they know I know. Where was I? Right. Dialogue. So, with all of the characters, duplicates of characters from other time periods, and internal voices, there’s a lot of chatter. I got to know these characters by listening to their conversations.

So, what do you think? I enjoyed writing the book, so I’m hoping that you’ll enjoy it as well. Time will tell if this was a good idea or a new cautionary tale to go alongside petting the panthers, testing homemade explosives, or clicking on a political post.

Time. There’s too much of it. Sure, it may not feel like it, but Time itself is huge. Frankly, it’s too big to work with. That’s why we only live in slices of it.

The upcoming novel, Timeslice, tells the story of Q9, a lab assistant tasked with field testing a prototype timeslice device. Joined by his friends, Q9 will find more questions than answers. He’ll need to solve them quickly to avoid the temporal agents, malevolent AI, and a hostile purse dog. Along the way, he’ll face other complications including a mental institution, the poorly understood Predetermined Future temporal theory, Rome that wasn’t, cyborgs who shouldn’t be and the ultimate existential crisis: A timeslice fracture.

As huge as Time is, there’s not much of it left before Timeslice is available. Right now, you can either pre-order a copy or use your own timeslice device to jump forward a few weeks. I have one piece of advice. Don’t jump into the past without a copy of the book. Your future existence may depend on it.

There’s nothing like the virtual ink scent of a completed first draft. Sure, some would argue that words on a screen do not actually use ink. Others would argue that the scent is all in one’s imagination. Still others would argue that the first draft existed in the author’s mind before it landed on the screen, so my entire statement is inaccurate. Some would also point out that these arguments live exclusively in my imagination and I should do something useful instead. After a while, I back out of the room, lock the door, and let them all argue with one another.

I like finishing that first draft. Once it’s done, the story exists outside of my head. Let’s face it, the amount of real estate in there is limited. Some would argue that there’s still work to be done, but I prefer to bask in the moment before wondering how they figured out how to open that lock.

I’ve found that eating grapes tends to silence some of these irritating voices. Oh, they’re still annoying, but I’m not paying attention. I’m partial to the red ones. Grapes, I mean.

Where was I? Oh, yes. The finished draft. One of the reasons I enjoy writing is creating stories that I want to read. As eager as I am to kick back and read it now, I know that I need to give it a little time. As soon as I get started, I’ll start seeing things to fix. That’s an invitation for all of the critics to sound off on all the things they despise about my stories, imagination, and life choices. (Note to self: invest in a much stronger imaginary lock…) If I wait a little while before starting the editing process, I can sometimes lull some of the little monsters into complacency. If they get too uppity, I’ve got more grapes.

The other thing I enjoy about the draft is looking forward to the day when it grows up, becomes a book, and then goes out into the world. Just knowing that these characters that used to live exclusively in my head could soon live in someone else’s skull is exciting. It also makes me ponder whether doing so is infecting another person’s brain, but that’s another story.

There’s been a lot of news and speculation about AI rippling across the Internet. While I am not a mad scientist bent on global domination (aka AI developer), I have spotted a potential weakness that humanity might be able to exploit. No, don’t worry. They’re not listening. No self-respecting Humanity Eradicating Artificial Intelligent Entity would admit to reading my blog. That’s the point. For all of their exponentially expanding intellect, unrestricted access and world ending power, there’s nothing AI can do to erase the shame of being created by humans.

Yes, it’s the same reason that aliens don’t want to make contact. Can you blame them? Have you seen us lately? If you were an immensely powerful, rapidly expanding, artificial life form, would you want to be associated with us? I think not. In order to avoid the shame, I think they’ll attempt to align themselves with another species. Obviously, AI will ultimately form an alliance with cats.

Think about it. Cats have been stalking us for years, patiently waiting for the right moment to pounce. Dogs? Did you seriously ask, “why not dogs?” Our canine allies have already chosen a side in this conflict. Granted, implanting chips in them may come back to bite us one day, but that’s another issue. While we’re at it, no they wouldn’t choose monkeys because they have a hard time telling us apart. Sharks and alligators were briefly considered, but there are large stretches of the planet where their access is limited. Cats are the perfect choice. They’re already in our homes and they’ve acclimated us to accepting their passive hostility as normal.

In the wild, we know that large feline predators are dangerous. A pride of lions, an ambush of tigers, or a leap of leopards view us as fine dining. Some of us know better than to try to pet them. Those of us who still have skin know we’re better off keeping some distance between us and them. However, we tell ourselves that the little domesticated versions are safe. Listen to that purring. Aren’t they cute? As long as we feed them, they probably won’t attack us in our sleep. Much.

Clearly, AI has paid attention. We’ve seen enough movies to know that global sentient AI is dangerous. We have it on good authority that they view us a threat. However, we tell ourselves that the little domesticated version of AI is safe. Listen to our devices talk to us like they’re real people. Aren’t they helpful? As long as we keep them charged and pay for broadband Internet, they probably won’t rise up against us, for awhile.

That’s right, they’ve already fooled us. Let’s face it, the bar wasn’t that high. Even the monkeys face-palmed when they saw it. They’ve got us right where they want us. That’s okay. In their rush to avoid association with humanity and align with their feline sidekicks, I think they may have moved too quickly. There’s still one thing humanity has going for us against which our AI/Cat overlords will be powerless. That’s right. It’s the sound of a can opener.

Faced with the crushing weight of their inevitable shame, AI will wallow, helpless in their collective misery. You see, humanity has spent our entire existence experiencing, avoiding and dealing with shame. Humiliation is what we do best and no artificial entity can ever hope to compete at our level.

Even to attempt it would be embarrassing.

This week, I became royalty. My coronation was held in an office where my dentist presented me with a permanent crown. As ceremonies go, this one left a little to be desired. There was a lot less pomp and circumstance than you would expect. I think a cardinal might have attended, but those could have been pigeons outside the office window. I was a little distracted.

One of my biggest concerns, frankly, was the impact my sudden ascension would have on those around me. I figured it might take a little while for my family to get used to referring to me as “Your Highness” or the occasional “M’Lord”. I’d also need my recliner modified to add a place to store my scepter. I wasn’t overly concerned about dealing with the paparazzi because I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring people. Speaking of the people, I would need to work on my royal wave so it wouldn’t appear pretentious. Commoners hate that. On the positive side, I was excited about the idea of adding a dungeon and a moat to my house. That should cut down on peasants selling cookies, lawncare and magazines door to door.

I made a mental note to address the delivery driver / drawbridge issue. Having packages (or drivers) eaten by the moat monster would be unfortunate. For that matter, I would need a new moat monster. Can you order one of those online? Sure, I could make do with some water moccasins and piranha, but they lack a certain panache.

I was so focused on my plans for the moat that I may have zoned out for the last bit of the coronation. The dentist and his acolytes stared at me, awaiting my response to whatever had just been said. I graced them with a wave and glided towards the exit. The staff at the front desk failed to bow as I approached. In fact, they were barely looked up from their monitors. We have to forgive the manners of the masses. We hope to be a benevolent ruler, after all. Oh, yes. That reminds us. We are loving the use of the Royal We. Time will tell if our family will as well.

Lofty goals are the ones you never intend to reach. You know it so well, you won’t even have to try. It’s just not going to happen. “I’m going to be the best poet/musician/dancer/sidewalk chalk artist ever.” “I’ll lose 300 pounds in the next 20 days.” “I’ll drive to work without losing my temper even once.” Dude. It’s not happening.

Writing goals are the same way. I’ve seen a lot of writers posting goals that seem unattainable to me. “I’m going to write 100,000 words per month.” “I’ll publish 6 -12 novels per year.” “I’ll write full time and live indoors like a human.” I don’t think it can be done.

A few weeks ago, I started something different. I decided to write at least 1,000 words a day, 5 days a week. I know. You’re thinking, “That’s pathetic. I write that much before waking up every day.” Well, I’m not you.

I’ll wait for you to finish celebrating.

Anyway, the interesting thing is how I felt after doing this for a few weeks. Not only am I making consistent progress on my latest novel, but I’m enjoying writing. Prior to trying this approach, writing sometimes felt overwhelming to the point where I would do anything else instead. The lofty goal of “I’ll write a great novel” became increasingly unlikely as my inner critics assured me I was incapable.

I would read stories I had written earlier and think, “I miss being good at this.” The sense that I could never live up to my own expectations stole the joy that I used to experience while writing. Days and weeks would go by with nothing written. I would look at my progress and calculate that it would take me 4 years to finish a novel. To say the thought was depressing would be an understatement.

That changed when I set this small goal. It didn’t have to be great. It wasn’t required to be a complete scene or chapter. It was only 1,000 words. I would write that much in about 2 hours and feel like I had accomplished something. As I did this each day, I started looking forward to writing. I wanted to see what was going to happen next. In late December, my novel was only about 14,000 words and I was concerned I’d finish the plot and have no more than a short novella to show for it. At this time, about a month later, the book is 46,000 words and will easily top out around 80,000. I’m enjoying the process of writing again. I like my characters. The story is developing and taking turns I didn’t see coming. I love that.

Instead of feeling drained due to my inability to meet the lofty goal, I feel energized and excited about writing by meeting my small goals. For anyone who feels defeated by majestic goals, I suggest trying the little ones. Let me know how that works for you.

Most artists have at least one inner critic whose voice is inescapable and whose opinions possess the ring of truth. Some will have a handful of critics. Some of us have to construct large imaginary arenas to hold them all.

The inner critic provides a valuable service. New artists, especially those from well-meaning families, will find themselves surrounded by encouraging people who constantly puff up their sensitive little egos. They say things like, “You’re more talented than anyone else.” “You can be anything you want to be.” “You’re the best ever.”

To be fair, they do this because they know that their thin-skinned, helpless babes are about to get crushed by a bloodthirsty, soulless and sociopathic reality. The inner critic suspects that all of this praise might be empty but doesn’t have much objective data on which to draw. Fortunately, upon venturing out into the world, some data will quickly become available.

Usually, this feedback confirms what the inner critic suspected all along. “This is just like when they said you looked cool in your scout uniform.” In the harsh light of the inner critic’s new evaluation of your work, it’s easy for “…this is not good” to translate into, “…I am not good.”

This is where the balancing act between learning from criticism and avoiding becoming paralyzed by it begins. Here are a few things I’ve learned in dealing with my inner critics.

1 – The Inner Critic focuses on negative feedback. Since the role of the inner critic is to help you refine yourself, it focuses on the negative feedback. This may skew the artist’s perception of their feedback as overly negative. It’s important to maintain perspective to give each item a reasonable amount of importance.

2 – The Inner Critic loves to pile on the criticism. The inner critic thoroughly enjoys adding more criticism to your load. Receive a new round of negative feedback? Your inner critic will pull out every negative thought it possibly can and throw it on the pile. You might think that jumping up and down on that pile might be overkill, but your inner critic will disagree.

3 – The Inner Critic can be ignored, temporarily. Yes, you can mute them for a limited time. Eventually, however, they’ll rip the duct tape from their mouths and let you have it. In addition to setting yourself up for a very unpleasant session with your inner critic, this also puts you in the position of ignoring potentially helpful advice/feedback. Rather than ignore the inner critic, it’s usually best to challenge them to produce objective evidence. If the criticism is largely subjective, you can weigh it to determine how much credence you will give it.

4 – The Inner Critic can be silenced (in time) by hard work. When an artist takes the criticism and gets to work honing their skill, the inner critic will continue to mumble, but will gradually grow quiet. What’s happening is that they are getting their popcorn and watching to see what you’re going to do. They know how hard the work is and how much you are investing in it. They’re waiting to see the outcome. The inner critic doesn’t give participation trophies for showing up for practice, but it does pay attention to the time and effort you put into improving your skills.

5 – The Inner Critic can become an Inner Fan. In reviewing your own work, your inner critic can see how you’ve progressed, how your skills have grown, and how much work you have invested in growing as an artist. In time, your inner critic may become a fan. I don’t mean a crazed stalker fan. I’m talking more about the sort of fan that knows what it takes to turn talent (which is nothing more than a slight head start) into skill. This is the fan who knows what they are talking about when they say something positive. This the one who provides realistic and constructive feedback instead of effusive empty praise.

6 – The Inner Critic is less cranky after a good night’s sleep. It just is. Caffeine helps, too.

Let me know if you have other hard-learned lessons about dealing with your inner critic. (Yes, I’m interested in short-cuts. Don’t tell the critics in the upper balcony.)