Early Technology
Let's hope such help won't be needed in the future. Enjoy.
AG
Alton Gansky: Zero-G
It's the first commercial space flight. Just as competitive as the old space race. And even more deadly.
Alton L. Gansky: Angel
A wise stranger has come to save our world. But is he too good to be true?
Alton Gansky: Finder's Fee
My Latest from Zondervan Publishing
Alton Gansky: 40 Days
NONFICTION. A look at the 40 days between the resurrection and ascension of Christ.
Alton Gansky: Crime Scene Jerusalem
A 21st century forensics expert investigates a 1st century crime--the crime of the ages.
Alton Gansky: The Incumbent
An abduction…a trail of disturbing clues… Politics are about to become deadly
Alton Gansky: Before Another Dies
When nighttime radio becomes daytime danger, Mayor Maddy Glenn must act before another innocent dies.
Alton Gansky: Director's Cut
Success can bring more than fame and fortune. For Mayor Maddy Glenn and her starlet cousin, it might bring death.
« September 2007 | Main | January 2008 »
Let's hope such help won't be needed in the future. Enjoy.
AG
A small article about my book ANGEL appeared in the October 2007 issue of Charisma Magazine. You can read it here. Be warned, there's a picture of me.
On another (musical) note...
The day following Thanksgiving, my wife and I, along with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, attended a TSO concert. Trans-Siberian Orchestra for the unenlightened, is a musical group that tours the country during the weeks before Christmas. They have issued several Christmas CDs but don't let that fool you. This is not your parent's Christmas music. It's hot, driving, rock heavy with electric guitars, amplified strings section, and powerful rock-style vocals.
Perhaps you remember a viral video that swept across the Intern last year. That toe tapping music was arranged by TSO.
I had a great time. And why not. It's my kinda show: laser beams flashed over head, lights strobed in my face, and I could feel the music in the center of my bones. Good stuff. But something else amazed me--my imagination went into overdrive. I've long known that certain things kick-start the motor of my imagination. This concert did that in a monumental way. As the drummer pounded out a beat the made my flesh jiggle and four guitarist and a young woman with an electric violin cranked out a tune I'm still hearing, my brain began manufacturing scenes for my work-in-progress. Trust me, I didn't go to the concert to work.
Odd, but there will be no complaints from me. Anything that ramps up my imagination is appreciated. I remain amazed at what stimulates creativity. I've heard many stories from writers who have found inspiration in the middle of a restaurant, driving down the road, sitting in a movie, or standing in the shower. The keys that unlock ideas are as numerous as the ideas themselves. The trick is to let it come when it comes. I never think, "I'll deal with this later" for fear that the idea will evaporate and refuse to come back and good ideas are too precious to ignore.
So, to my delight, the concert was fun and useful. I got my money's worth.
AG
Writing a book like Zero-G
requires some pretty deep research. Tracking down information for a novel is
one of the more enjoyable tasks involved in story development and execution.
Since I love space exploration this was candy. The most difficult aspect was
deciding what to leave out.
Much of the information used in the book I found on the Internet. NASA is has several sites filled with more information than any author could use. I found diagrams, professional papers, news reports, transcripts of Shuttle to ground communications, and much more. (Technically, most of us misuse the term “space shuttle.” The craft that orbits the earth and carries the astronauts is properly called the orbiter.)
I also used a couple of books written by astronauts. Mike Mullane’s Riding Rockets proved very useful. I marked scores of pages. There’s nothing better for describing flight in the orbiter than a description from someone who’s done it. Sky Walking, an Astronaut’s Memoir is another useful source.
Jim Harris, a close friend who works for Dryden at Edwards Air Force Base, served as a sounding board and shared his impressions about the work done at NASA.
My greatest task was using just enough information to add reality to the plot without using so much the story bogged down. The space shuttle/orbiter is the most complicated mechanical device yet made. To put every detail in the story would require several volumes.
More difficult was creating a privately owned and built space capable craft that could carry tourist into sub orbit. For that I had to delve into the efforts of people like Burt Rutan who with his team from Scaled Composites won the Ansari X-Prize by sending a man into space twice within weeks. To see what that future looks like, watch Virgin Galactic’s impressive video.
The commercialization of space—private companies doing space work from tourism to orbiting hotels—is becoming a hot topic. That meant I also had scores of articles available to me. Space.com to Wired Magazine served as source material.
Writing about the near future was research intensive, but also some of the most fun I’ve had.
AG
“When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward for there you have been and there you will always long to return.”
—Leonardo da Vinci 1452-1519
When I was a child I would rise early in the morning to watch the lift-off the early rockets. I still remember sitting cross-legged on the floor, my eyes fixed on the television as men were launched into space. Nothing was more exciting that seeing Mercury, then Gemini, then Apollo programs go step by step into space.
As an adult I felt the same thrill when NASA began launching the space shuttles into orbit. To this day, I still watch lift-offs and returns. In fact, as I write this, STS 120 just touched down in Florida.
I believe it is in human nature to explore and I believe humanity is at its best when we are searching new frontiers. But something has happened over the decades. It was first noticed during the early hours of Apollo 13 (prior to the oxygen tank explosion that crippled the craft and nearly led to the deaths of three astronauts). Prior missions held the public’s attention and people would watch broadcasts from the spacecraft with the greatest interests. Very few people watched the Apollo 13 space-borne broadcast. It had all become passé. (Of course, after the explosion, the world watched with renewed interest.)
It saddens me to think that we’ve lost our inner drive to explore. And I’m not the only one bemoaning this loss. This dissatisfaction has brought up a new set of entrepreneurs: wealthy individuals who have taken upon themselves to do what previously could only be done by a country the size of the US. Sir Richard Branson of Virgin Atlantic is setting up Virgin Galactic in the New Mexico desert. He and his team hope to have a 2009 launch with paying passengers ($200,000 a head). Jeff Bezos of Amazon.com fame is helping fund Blue Origin, a vertical lift-off system designed to take astronauts to space at lower cost. He’s building a spaceport in Texas. I’ve seen a list of privately owned spaceports that number nearly 20. Who knew?
I wanted to write a novel that included this new space race. In the old space race, the US and the USSR duked it out. The new race is between billionaire moguls. I also wanted to show the human side and human cost of venturing into space. The hero of the book is Benjamin “Tuck” Tucker, an astronaut who loses his crew in space. He alone survives. (To date, the US has never lost an astronaut in space. Three died on the ground and two space shuttles have been destroyed killing their crew.)
I wondered what it would be like for a man who is used to controlling everything in his life, then have that control taken away. How would he redeem himself? How strong is the love of flying in space? Would such a man leave behind his former career to adopt a new, uncertain one? How would the family respond?
Of course, as a novel writer it is incumbent upon me to make my character’s life miserable. If you’ve read my books, then you know there’s always something else afoot.
Next post: The research.
AG
I am thrilled to announce the release of ZERO-G, a novel about courage, facing fear, confronting failure, and riding rockets to space.
Zero-G, stars Benjamin "Tuck" Tucker, a navy pilot turned space shuttle astronaut. Imagine waking up in the shuttle Atlantis, unsure of how you got there and with no idea why the craft is slowly spinning, Then imagine your crew sick, dead, or dying.
Tuck's nightmare happens 200 miles above the earth and that's just the beginning. He carries that nightmare with him.
Here's the back cover copy:
Veteran astronaut Benjamin “Tuck” Tucker is slated to pilot the first commercial space flight. But ruthless enemies are about to jeopardize the enterprise. With a recent tragedy still haunting his memory, Tuck must turn to a God he no longer trusts as he fights for his life and the lives of all aboard.
Poised to make history, SpaceVentures, Inc., hovers on the brink of launching the first commercial space flight. And Benjamin “Tuck” Tucker’s skill and reputation have thrust the new company into the forefront in this powerful new space race.
A veteran astronaut and national hero, Tuck accepts the coveted honor—and the risk—of piloting the Legacy on her maiden space voyage.
The danger is far greater than just the perceived risks.
The real threat, a plot far deadlier than anyone could have imagined, is exposed as Legacy reaches the suborbital regions of space. Suspended seventy miles above Earth, Tuck must use his skill and his faith—faith in a God he has found it hard to trust since a deadly tragedy in space over a year before—as he fights an unknown enemy who will not hesitate to kill again.
In the days ahead, I'll be posting about why and how I wrote this book and my thoughts on space exploration.
AG
Yesterday, I received an e-newsletter from Shelf
Awareness. It drops into my e-mail box routinely so I’m used to seeing
its familiar banner. Shelf Awareness is about the book business and it
contains news of interest to those of who love books and publishing. This time
it contained a blurb that got me thinking. Here’s the piece:
“He's Holding a Book in His Hand, and He's Shaking”
“About 20 years ago, I had an old guy come in here. He'd been living out here for many years and said he was looking for a book he'd had when he was a kid, so I sent him back to where the boys' books are. Anyhow, about 15 minutes later, he's holding a book in his hand, and he's shaking. He not only found the book, he found his name in it, when he was 9 years old. Can you believe that? He found his own copy, right on the shelf. The guy was actually crying. He was 80 years old or something, and tears were rolling down his cheeks.” --Bob Weinstein, owner of the Book Baron, Anaheim, Calif., in a wistful Los Angeles Times piece about his bookshop's imminent closing.
Do you have a book from your childhood like that? As a child I read a great deal. I loved books. Mrs. Wells, my third-grade teacher held a reading contest. I was determined to read more books than anyone in class. She wrote our names on small, handmade paper rocket ships and my rocket would climb higher with each book read.
Sigh, I came in second to Judy Reynolds. Cheater.
Anyway, one of my favorite pastimes was finding a quiet place in the house and delving into some book. One of those still holds a special place in my heart. I remember how good I felt at the end of that read. The kind of feeling demonstrated by pulling the book to my chest and holding it like the treasure it was.
THE SHY STEGASAURUS OF CRICKET
CREEK written by Evelyn Sibley Lampman
and illustrated by Hubert Buel was written in 1955…long before my reading days.
It would be a decade before I got around to it. Odd that a book children’s book
written a half-century ago should still be lodged in the gray matter between my
ears. But who can turn a way from a story featuring brother/sister twins and a
talking stegosaurus that lives on their ranch? Not me. I mean—a talking
stegosaurus. It’s fun yet sad story.
Evelyn Sibley Lampman, wife to a reporter, touched my
life and stoked the coals of my imagination. The only place a talking stegosaurus can live is between the covers of a
book. Evelyn—I feel comfortable calling anyone who leaves their fingerprints all
over my brain by their first name—died in 1980. Pity. I’d like to thank her for
the adventure.
What about you? Do you have a book from your childhood that won’t go away?
AG
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