His Robot Girlfriend: Charity – Excerpt

HRG CharityThe sun was really beating down when Dakota Hawk pulled his pickup to a stop next to the metal cargo container that GoodWorks was using as the drop location from which to collect donations of clothing, furniture, and electronics. When he climbed out of the cab, his foot slid in the half molten asphalt. The poor bastard, who was earning a dollar less than minimum wage to sit in the heat and collect the donations, stepped out from the container’s interior, dripping sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“Back again? What are you trying to do, get rid of everything?”

“As much as possible,” said Dakota. “Do you have water in there? Maybe a fan?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a nifty little setup. Come in and look.”

The air outside was well over 140 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was just as hot inside. It was even more oven-like. The back third of the container was filled with cardboard boxes and plastic trash bags full of who-knows-what. Along the left side were a few pieces of larger furniture. Along the right hand wall were a dozen non-animated robots—a couple with clothes, but most naked. Just inside the entrance sat a chaise lounge next to a mini-refrigerator with an electric fan sitting atop it. A long orange cord ran out the door, across the parking lot, and was plugged into the back of McDonalds.

“Sweet,” said Dakota, and then he turned back to his truck and began unloading the black bags filled with clothing and household goods. He handed them to the guy, who then stacked them in back. By the time they were done, his own long, blond hair was plastered to his face.

“Mostly clothes, feels like.”

“Yes, mostly clothes.”

Dakota had spent all morning trying to empty out the apartment. The first hour had been taken up getting his own things. He had packed up his vueTee and his other electronics, and then his clothes. That had filled up the back of the truck, leaving just enough room for the two crappy chairs his dad had given him. He’d taken it all to the Jiffy Locker and rented a storeroom, their smallest size. After unloading, he had made one final sweep through the apartment, taking whatever was left that he wanted—nothing more than a few photographs and mementos. Then he had spent the next five hours hauling as many of Rachel’s belongings away as possible and donating them to GoodWorks. He realized he could be charged with theft, but he didn’t care. Her closet was empty, her wriTee and all her files were gone, she had no pots and pans and no fine silverware, her underwear drawer was empty, and her grandmother’s Depression era glassware collection was history. He looked at his watch. There wasn’t time to make another trip before she got off work.

He looked back into the cargo container.

“Say, what are you going to do with these old robots?” Dakota asked.

“They have a group that recycles them for parts. Most of them are Gizmos, and you can’t really fix them anymore.”

Dakota looked them over. They were mostly Gizmos, but not all. He recognized a Braun… and something else. A naked female robot, waist bent at an anatomically impossible angle stared at the wall. A curtain of long brown hair was brushed aside just enough for Dakota to make out three small holes in the back of the neck, and beneath them, a button.

“How much do you suppose they’ll get for them?”

“Oh, a few hundred each, I suppose. Most of them don’t work at all.”

“Could I buy one?”

“We don’t sell them to the public.”

“Seems a shame,” Dakota said. “I’d give you $500 for that one there, right now.”

“Well, we don’t even know if it works.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it. Cash deal. No exchanges or refunds.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in $500, waving it back and forth in front of the guy’s eyes.

The guy reached into his own pocket for his phone.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said. “You know, because they don’t want us selling them.”

He pressed his phone to Dakota’s; transferring the $500 into what they both knew was the guy’s personal account.

“Nobody’s going to hear anything about it from me. Help me load it?”

My Writing – Part 8

Desperate CoverDesperate Poems

I had written a thousand poems when I was in my teens. Over the years, I had sporadically written more poetry. I decided the time was right to publish them in ebook form. Of course I wouldn’t expect anyone to pay for my poetry, so it would be a free offering. I had already collected a pretty good cross section of my poems, so I just formatted it all together, and sent it out into cyberspace. I tried out about a thousand titles for the volume, before I finally settled on Desperate Poems.

Astrid Maxxim and the Antarctic Expedition

When I wrote Astrid Maxxim and her Undersea Dome, I had simply continued on at the end until I ran out of steam. When I stopped, I had the first four or five chapters of a third Astrid Maxxim book. The book would take Astrid to Antarctica. Then I went off and wrote Patience is a Virtue, taking the characters there to the Antarctic too.

When I finally got back to Astrid, I decided that I would include global warming as part of the plot. I already had an element from the first book that would tie into the South Pole. I needed some danger in the story, so I read up on some real life events concerning Antarctic wildlife and fictionalized them. I had written a much looser outline than usual, and when I was halfway through the book, I suddenly realized that my chapters were too long. I wanted some uniformity with the other books of the series. So, I went back and split chapters up, but I still ended up slightly off.

Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane

I was really into the Astrid Maxxim mode when I finished writing Antarctic Expedition. In fact, I feel like I didn’t really hit my stride in that book until I was finishing it up. I immediately started on the next book. This is really the one in which the main character starts to grow up. She was already one part Tom Swift and one part Walt Disney. Now she started becoming a little bit Steve Jobs. She was becoming a genius with a bit of an edge.

Once again I hired Matthew Riggenback at Shaed Studios to do the covers and I had him design them for books three, four, and five. Just as I had before, I continued writing past the end of Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane, creating the first few chapters of the next book before setting it down to do something else. This was the beginning of Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge. In the meantime, I think that Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane is the best in the series so far.

His Robot Wife: Charity

I have noticed (and others have as well) that I tend to write about similar things in different stories. I wrote two stories set in Antarctica, relatively close together. I had very similar conversations in The Drache Girl and Tesla’s Stepdaughters—different topics, but a similar format. I was working on a (as yet unpublished) story involving a cheating spouse. This was still on my mind when I came up with a plot for a new robot book. For the first time a robot story came to me in a sort of natural way, like other stories. For that reason, I think it’s the best of the four robot books.

Because of the plot, I needed entirely new characters for this story. I tied it in with the other books by placing it in the same setting and then I had some of the characters from the earlier books—Mike and Ryan—appear in this one as well. Ryan has gone from being a car salesman to a realtor. Happily I was able to take some of the threads from this book and weave them into the next His Robot Wife book.

Astrid Maxxim – The Person

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar ChallengeNow that I’ve finished four Astrid Maxxim books, I’ve been musing a lot on the girl and her personality. Astrid started as my homage to Tom Swift Jr. I really loved that series of books when I was a kid and really wanted to recreate the feeling I had when I read them. Now, even with the books being as short as they are– 30,000 words (just like the Tom Swift Jr. books) I’ve had a chance to make her a bit more three dimensional.

Astrid is still one part Tom Swift, but she’s also one part Walt Disney and one part Steve Jobs. Okay, she may be two parts Steve Jobs. Maxxim Industries really does kind of mirror Apple as far as their computer technology, though Maxxim is even more into aeronautics than electronics. Still in Astrid Maxxim and the Antarctic Expedition, Astrid gets to take part in what is essentially a keynote speech to developers. She also dabbles in high finance and hostile take-overs.

In Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane, she’s become a bit of a hard CEO, firing off memos to the company when something bothers her and in one instance firing an employee who doesn’t present the proper Maxxim image. Of course, she’s still a fifteen year old girl and has to deal with all those things that are important to fifteen year old girls.

His Robot Girlfriend – Still on the Charts

His Robot GirlfriendI was just looking around iBooks and discovered that His Robot Girlfriend is still #45 on the  top 100 free science-fiction books.  It’s nice to see it’s still doing its job of finding new readers for me.  I owe a lot to that little book.  It’s opened many doors for me.

If you haven’t yet read it, it’s available free just about wherever you find ebooks.  Follow this link to get it from iBooks.

Astrid Maxxim and her Amazing Hoverbike – Chapter 3 Excerpt

Astrid Maxxim CoverThey arrived in the lab and Astrid examined the readings on her experiment.

“I think this might make it till the week-end.”

“What’s in this box?” asked Toby, from across the room. “What’s Project RG-7, and why is it top secret?”

“I was going to show you guys next week,” said Astrid, leading the others to where Toby was standing beside the crate. “I guess you can go ahead and take a look now.”

Reaching up, she flipped open a latch and opened the side of the crate. Inside, packed with straw, was a metallic girl. She had bright silver skin, but was otherwise quite human looking. Her hair was the same metallic material as the rest of her, a solid hair-shaped mass rather than individual fibers, but she was wearing regular clothing. She had on a pink jacket over a blue t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

“Oh my gosh!” squealed Valerie. “She looks like me!”

“Yes, she does,” agreed Denise.

“That’s because I patterned her after you,” said Astrid. “She’s a Robot Girl 7.”

“What’s she… I mean it, for?” asked Austin.

“Well, who wouldn’t want a robot?” wondered Astrid. “She could be anything: friend, babysitter, maid.”

“Why did you make her look like me?” asked Valerie.

“She’s just a prototype. I thought you would be a good model for her.” Astrid stepped over to a table and pulled back a sheet. “What we’re going to do is hook you up to her and we’ll copy all the information from your brain into the robot. It will be much faster than trying to program it with a computer.”

“I don’t know…” Valerie took a step back.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Astrid assured her.

“What if it sends my brain into her body? What if I wake up and you’ve turned me into a robot?”

“That can’t happen,” said Astrid.

“That would be way cool!” exclaimed Austin. “Make a boy robot and copy my brain!”

The rest of the week went by quickly. Astrid spent most of her time after school polishing up the two papers that were due that Friday: one on The Count of Monte Cristo for her Independent Study class, and one on fungus for Biology. She did have one opportunity for fun with her friends in the evening. On Wednesday night her father had a barbecue and invited the Bundersmiths, the Browns, The Diaz’s, and the Harris’s, and two other families. Everyone ate heaps of ribs, chicken, and brisket and the kids spent hours in the pool.

Saturday morning, Astrid was back in her lab looking over the results of her battery experiment. It had gone far better than expected. She gave a quick call to Mr. Brown, Denise’s father, who was in charge of model-making at Maxxim Industries, and asked him to create a line of mock-up batteries in all the popular sizes for her presentation the next week. No sooner had she hung up the phone than Denise walked in the door, followed by Valerie.

Toby and Christopher weren’t with them, but Astrid knew right where they were. They were two of only a four freshmen at school who had their pilot’s licenses, so they spent every other Saturday at the Maxxim Industries airfield, trying to get enough hours to qualify on the newest aircraft models.

“Hey Guys,” said Astrid. “Right on time.”

“I’m still not sure about this,” said Valerie.

“Don’t worry. We’re just programming the robot to be able to follow some basic input. We want to be able to tell it to go here, or pick that up, or bring me that test tube. Programming it by hand would take weeks. This way, we can map out the entire command structure by copying the way your brain works. I thought you would enjoy this, being a part of history.”

“I guess it’s alright,” said Valerie. “You’re not going to fry my brain or anything?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t worry,” said Denise. “I won’t let her do any mad science stuff to you.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Just sit down here on the table by Robot Girl 7,” Astrid instructed. “I’ll just put these sensors on your temples.”

She stuck a white circular sticky pad with a wire extending from it onto each side of Valerie’s head.

“Now I just throw the switch.” She flipped a switch on a nearby panel. “Feel anything?”

“No,” answered Valerie, a little shakily.

Settings: Astrid Maxxim’s World

Astrid Maxxim CoverThere are a lot of little bits that I had fun creating in Astrid Maxxim and her Amazing Hoverbike.

Rachel Carson High School: I wanted Astrid’s school to be named for a female scientist, but I wasn’t sure which one. The first draft had Marie Curie High School, but that was a bit too on the nose. There were several other possibilities, but I’m happy with the final version. Rachel Carson is one of the great unsung heroes of the last millennium.

Bike Paths and Monorails: The kids in the story are too young to drive, but they get around on bike paths and in the Maxxim monorail. This gave me the kind of 50s retro-futuristic feel that I wanted. It’s just fun, too.

On the other hand, Maxxim City is supposed to be super-technologically advanced, so they can’t just use the same NEMA-1-15 and NEMA 5-15 electrical plugs you find in your walls at home (or the European equivalents). I wanted them to have something like a thunderbolt plug, but one which would carry both high voltages as well as data, hence the Excalibur outlet.

When I originally wrote the story, the hoverbikes were all sleek and futuristic, but I loved the cover design done by Matthew Riggenbach at Shead Studios. So, I rewrote it so that Astrid’s hoverbike was a retro-design in orange. Now it matches the cover picture and it adds a little something to Astrid’s character.

Astrid Maxxim and her Amazing Hoverbike – Chapter 2 Excerpt

Astrid Maxxim CoverDespite Astrid’s assertion, it wasn’t really all that hard to get around at Maxxim Industries. It was a ten minute walk from the R&D building to the monorail station. The five teens boarded the sleek elevated train which ran all over the campus as well as to the neighboring town of Maxxim City, where they all lived. Once they stepped off the train it was a twenty minute walk home to Acacia Avenue, where both the Maxxim and Bundersmith homes were located.

They spent the afternoon swimming under the watchful eye of Mrs. Gerta Bundersmith, Toby’s great aunt, who had come to live with him and his father two years before, when they had lost his mother to cancer. Astrid arrived home in plenty of time for dinner, and thanks to three phone calls and Mrs. Purcell, her father made it too, only five minutes late.

Astrid would gladly have spent her Sunday at the lab, and she usually did, but this Sunday the R&D was completely shut down for a seminar two miles away at the Advanced Research Institute. So, she spent most of the day in her room on her computer. She had a paper on Quantum Theory for her physics class due in two weeks anyway, and she didn’t want to wait until the last minute to finish it. Every so often the computer would chime and she would read a message from Denise, answer it, and return to her work. Most of Denise’s messages were questions about which of the most popular boy singers would look best on her arm at the Spring Fling. Astrid in turn, pointed out that it was no more likely that any famous singer would be visiting Rachel Carson High School on the day of the Spring Fling than it had been on the day of the Freshman Mixer, Sadie Hawkins Day, or the Winter Festival.

Astrid woke up the next morning to the sound of the alarm clock. She showered and did her hair, pulled on her skirt, shirt, and tie; socks and shoes; and blue uniform blazer, and would have bounded right out the door with her backpack, if only her mother hadn’t insisted she stop and eat breakfast. French toast was not the breakfast for someone who was excited to be on their way, but she had to sit. Her father read the news from his digital tablet as he absentmindedly dunked his French toast in his coffee instead of his syrup. Her mother watched her like a hawk from the other side of the table to make sure that she ate.

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” called Astrid, as she shot toward the door after the required minimum seven bites.

“Learn stuff!” called Dr. Maxxim.

“Stay out of trouble!” called her mom.

As always, Toby was waiting for her at the sidewalk, right where the massive row of poplar trees divided the Maxxim property from the Bundersmith property. His uniform was neatly pressed and his hair was slicked back. He carried his backpack slung over one shoulder.

“You look nice,” said Astrid.

“Really? You don’t think I look stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“Great aunt Gerta put this stuff in my hair.”

“Is it like gel?”

“No, it’s like axel grease,” he replied.

“Well, you look fine.”

They walked the carefully cultivated sidewalk, shaded by overhanging trees, until they reached the corner of Fourth Street, where they found Denise waiting in front of her house. Christopher lived two blocks further down, and was waiting for them at the corner of Cyprus Avenue. From there it was a short block south to Fifth, where Valerie lived. Valerie, who all agreed spent an inordinate amount of time on her hair, was always late and today was no exception. But ten minutes later, they arrived at Main Street and climbed aboard the monorail train that took them to school.

Rachel Carson High School was not actually in the city at all, but sat just inside the border of the Maxxim Industries campus. It was a large, three-story, modern structure with its own internal monorail station on the top floor. As they stepped out of the train, the five teens gave each other a quick wave and hurried toward their classes.

Astrid and Christopher were both on program one, so they had the same classes, except third period when she had Physics and he had Chemistry, and fifth period when she had Biology and he had Geology. Denise and Valerie were both on program five, so they spent their day together. Astrid got to see Denise in first period because she was in English Composition with her and Christopher, but she didn’t have a single class with Valerie. The only class she shared with Toby, who was on program seven, was seventh period when they were together in Fencing.

Even though they spent a great deal of time away from each other during the day, the whole gang always got together in the Quad at 12:00 for lunch. Astrid had been looking forward to lunch since she read the menu that morning just after the Pledge of Allegiance—Sicilian broccoli and cauliflower pasta with pine nuts, whole grain garlic bread, tossed salad, and yogurt parfait. Toby, Denise, and Valerie were already sitting at their usual table when she and Christopher sat down.

“So, how’s it going?” asked Toby.

“Fine,” said Christopher and everyone agreed.

“I heard Mr. Kramer is sick,” said Valerie. “I guess we’ll have a substitute today.”

“I don’t like substitutes,” said Denise. “We always end up behind. Then we have to work all that much harder the rest of the week.”

“You won’t get behind today,” said Toby. “My dad is your sub today, so count on extra homework.” He laughed. “I’m glad I don’t have Geometry.”

“You just wait,” said Valerie. “When my dad subs, he’ll have you swimming extra laps.”

At Rachel Carson High School, all parents were required to serve six days a year as faculty or staff members. For Toby’s father, who was a structural engineer, that usually meant teaching Math. Valerie’s father, head of security for Maxxim Industries, usually either taught a Physical Education class or served as a school safety officer.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” wondered Denise, indicating a table across the Quad from where they sat.

“It looks like Mark McGovern is picking on that kid,” said Christopher. “He picked on me last year because I have dark skin.”

“He picked on me because my mother is from Mexico,” said Valerie.

“He picked on me because I have two dads,” said Denise.

“He calls me a nerd all the time,” said Astrid.

Settings: More Robot Stuff

His Robot GirlfriendHere are a few more details about the world of His Robot Wife and His Robot Girlfriend.

One of the main background events in His Robot Girlfriend is the presidential election. I used random names for the presidential candidates, but one of the vice-presidential candidates was named for a teacher I work with. That was years ago, and she’s moved on now.  We have huge turnovers in our school district.  But I’m still there.  I got my 20 year pin this week, even though I’m three fourths of the way through my 22nd year.

One of the details that I was really proud of was the payNETime acount. I needed something that was a cross between Paypal and the broader banking world. PayNETime is pronounced “pay any time” and it spells NET in the middle. I was really proud of myself on this one.

Mike and Patience live at 11 North Willow. During my high school years, I lived at 11 Cottonwood.

The two main robot manufacturers are Gizmo and Daffodil. Gizmo is another word for mechanism, of course. Daffodil is the flower and is meant to evoke the idea of Apple. There are numerous little parallels between Gizmo/Daffodil and IBM/Apple. Add to that Daffodil is in Cupertino.

His Robot Wife – Chapter 5 Excerpt

His Robot WifeMike decided that their adventure would begin on Tuesday and that he and Patience would spend three or four days on the road—depending on how much fun he was having. Monday therefore was spent getting their things ready. Patience did most of the work, packing and loading, and even reprogramming the sentry system to account for their absence. Mike called Harriet to let her know that he was going to be out of town and to check on how she felt. Neither mentioned the unpleasantness of the previous day. Secure in the knowledge that everything had been taken care of, that night he played a long session of Age of Destruction before watching Celebrity Rat Race.

Mike planned on spending the first day and night in Carlsbad, which was only a three hour drive away, so he didn’t bother getting up early. They left the house just after nine and pulled off of I5 and onto Carlsbad Village Drive just after noon. Relatively few cars were on the streets of the village, in marked contrast to the last time that Mike had visited, five years before. He tried to remember if that had been a weekday or the weekend, but he couldn’t recall. Patience had been quiet for the past several minutes, but suddenly spoke up.

“That’s where I bought your swimsuit the last time we were here.”

“Is it? Yes, I guess it is. Did you bring the suits?”

“I recycled those suits 567 days ago. I purchased new suits on the Infinet.”

“Five hundred sixty seven days? That’s an odd way of saying it? Why not say one year and this many months and this many days?”

“I was trying to make it simple,” said Patience. “If you prefer, I can describe the time passage as one year, six months, nineteen days, four hours, nineteen minutes, and thirty two seconds.”

“And what good would that do me?”

“None, which is precisely my point. Besides, we’re not going into the water, at least not here. You could get your genitals bit off by a very large squid.”

“I don’t think that happens very often,” said Mike.

“It’s happened more than once, so it’s something to be worried about. And no sunbathing either. If we go out on the sand, you wear the required SPF 210 sunblock.”

Carlsbad was not a very large town and so Mike was able to reach the location of the hotel in which he had previously stayed, driving the narrow and winding streets at thirty miles per hour, in less than twenty minutes. He stopped the car and climbed out, his mouth open wide in surprise. The little inn on Ocean Street that had been his accommodations every time he had visited, since the early days of his marriage to Tiffany was gone. The little hotel had leaned against the side of the hill so that its landward side had only one story, while its seaward side had three stories, the bottom one resting right on the beach. In its place was a tall black tower.

“Shit. When did that get here?”

“It’s new.”

Mike looked left and right. Though this was the only such tower, the lots to either side were now construction sites, the small inns and condos for rent all gone. He leaned his head back and looked up.

“I don’t know if I want to stay here.”

Details – Voting in the Future

His Robot GirlfriendSo many things in His Robot Girlfriend were not that different than in our own times (because I don’t think the 2030s will really be all that different), that I struggled to add a few fantastic elements. It is after all, a science fiction story.

One area that I changed up quite a bit from our present world was the presidential election that is occurring in the background of the story. I made three parties the status quo in the stories, not because I’m an advocate of the Green Party (who is the third along with the Democrats and Republicans), though I do consider myself an environmentalist, but I just thought three parties would be more interesting. I don’t think America will ever have more than two major parties (the 1912 election nowithstanding). I also gave the US 57 states, including Cuba– also pretty unlikely– though maybe not as unlikely as when I wrote it.

Some reforms that I added that I do think might happen, and would be welcome, are Internet voting, and a single election time across the nation. In the story, voting occurs between 7AM Eastern Time and 7PM Pacific Time. Though states are currently firmly in control of election procedures, with the rate of technological change, I could see both of these things happening.

As always though, I chose these things not because I like the idea myself, but because I thought it was more interesting for the story. If you haven’t read His Robot Girlfriend, check it out. It’s free just about anywhere you can find ebooks, and has been downloaded to date 444,769 times.