The Pono Way is Horribly Relevant Once Again

I wrote my second novel, The Pono Way, during Donald Trumpโ€™s first administration.  Published it toward the end.  I was pleased to see that even those who didnโ€™t really enjoy the book, still got the message: be welcoming to immigrants.  They need help, not condemnation.

The book got some good reviews and was a semi-finalist in an indie sci-fi contest, so I was pleased with it overall.ย ย ย Iโ€™m glad the book arrived in time to be relevant, but I was relieved that its message, speaking out against MAGAโ€™s particular blind anti-immigrant furor, was no longer so necessary.ย ย 

But here it is again.ย ย FOTUS is back, and masked thugs are snatching people off the streets without warrants, badges, or accountability.ย ย Brown people.ย ย Foreign people.ย ย People going to their immigration meetings.ย ย And the occasional natural-born American citizen caught up in the sweeps.ย ย Oops.ย ย Trumpโ€™s brownshirts.ย ย Hard to believe.ย ย Hard to accept.ย ย 

So The Pono Way is relevant once again: follow the message of Leviticus toย welcome the stranger among you as your own, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.ย ย And the ethos of the United States:ย give me your tired, your poorโ€ฆ I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

This means a great deal to me.  My mother was an immigrant.  Iโ€™m a second-generation American.  I can feel it, the xenophobia.  Itโ€™s personal to me.  Itโ€™s not abstract.  I hate it!  America is built from the grit of generations of people like my mom, who took a powder on their whole entire lives, and went to live a new one in the New World.   And the people who survived being snatched from everything they’d ever known, the destruction of their ways of life. . To deny that is morally insidious.  

So, I kind of hate that the book is newly relevant again, but Iโ€™m also glad it outโ€™s there, doing its job, a tale to point people to.  It has a happy ending! I like to write positive sci-fi. 

Also itโ€™s short.  A short novel but I put a lot into it. Itโ€™s short, itโ€™s on Kindle Unlimited, and it has a happy ending.  We all could use one.  So check it out!  

Die Back at the Root

The Brutal Kindness of Pruning

We had snow in January, and it decimated my elephant ear plant, Bert.  I didnโ€™t realize how bad it was until the top half of his stalk fell off. 

An elephant ear plant with an ugly, rotten trunk

So I had to perform some gruesome but necessary plant surgery, and hack off that dead, rotten trunk so the new shoots can grow.  ChatGPT told me to sprinkle cinnamon on the clean but still horrific wound as an antifungal, so I did that.  It was smelly and slimy and I felt terrible.  I learned from the book The Light  Eaters by Zoe Schlanger that plants hate to be touched.  But it was necessary.  Bert doesnโ€™t have to waste energy on that dying stalk now.  Plants can survive even if they have to die back to the root.

 Humanity at the Brink

I think that might be what human civilization has to do: die back to the root and start over.  

I think historyโ€™s verdict will be that in the first half of the 21st century, humanity became so enamored of our technology and endless streaming entertainment that we lost touch with what was truly real.  We are about to be forcibly reminded, as climate change batters civilization to rubble with a never-ending chain of fires, floods and super-storms.  Nation-states will be unable to respond to cascading emergencies.  The insurance industry will collapse, leaving citizens and capital alike unable to recover from disasters.  Those fires and floods will bring famine, plagues and wars. 

 The Uneven Collapse to Come

Not everywhere will get knocked back to the Age of Steam.  High-tech enclaves like Shenzen and Silicon Valley will remain, full of Ais and robots.  But they will be walled from the outside world and still consume more than their share of resources.  They wonโ€™t be popular.  

It seems the only way, though.  Die back to the root.  Every structure of our society is so broken, so unjust and extractive, they may be impossible to fix.  They may just have to die.  They seem bent on it, the forces of global capital.  Sucking every last drop of blood out of Mother Earth and her people as they go.

 What Survival Might Require

Those roots we will die back to will be local โ€“ our own towns, our own people.  Food, water: the integrity of our land and waters so that we may *eat and drink.* As nation-states collapse, states and then cities will be thrown back on their own resources.   Food you can grow yourself of from the farms outside of town.  Plant-based diets to ease the burden on the Earth.  Localized power like solar cells and other renewables.  Communities looking to their own needs instead of relying on fragile long-distance networks that can be broken by catastrophe at any time.

My novel The Pono Way takes place in the 2090s, about halfway between this world and that one.  Nation-states are still hanging on, barely.  But more and more people are leaning more on their own resources, like the sea-steadings.

The Potential for Regrowth

Once a plant dies or is pruned back, it can concentrate its energy on new growth and recovery.  That is the effect of Dark Ages in human history โ€“ they clear away what is dead so something new can grow.  Old structures, old religions, old ways of seeing the world.   Humanity has made it through dark Ages before.  Never with so much at stake, but it probably felt like it at the time.  What could be worse than the Fall of Rome?  Europe and the Mediterranean nursed that wound for a thousand years.

What I hope we gain is, not a learning, but a remembering: we are not above nature, we are in it and of it.  Its flourishing is ours.  From the microbes in our guts to the mycelial networks running through every foot of living soil under our feet, to the phytoplankton in the seas.  All one, cells in the body of Our Mother.  Capitalism and its growth mindset have brought us to the brink of ruin.  I hope we realize, really internalize, believe that weโ€™re all in this together.  Stewardship, not profit becomes the highest value. 

Creative Destruction

The lesson of the dieback is that new hope can come from the ruins.  The collision of the Old and New Worlds was a different kind of Dark Age, brutal and tragic, literally an apocalypse.  But 500 years later a nation of that New World sent men to the Moon.  The historian Yuval Harari said that, even with all its horror, the โ€œdiscoveryโ€ of the New World was the most important event in human history, because it showed all humanity that things we never imagined were possible.  All wisdom was not contained in the mythic past.  We could look forward, to a new horizon.  A New World. That was an epochal change.  

My hope is that we can make it past this new Dark Age, the bitter fruit of our foolhardiness, and civilization on the other side will be better and stronger than before.  More grounded in the earth and the people around us, more wise, more just.  Using science and technology to hallow the Earth instead of despoil it.  Mother Earth is pruning us. 

And yes, it may take 500 years. But the civilization that grows out of that dieback should be the one that can take us to the stars. Just like Bert will grow back as luxurious as before.  This after all is why I write speculative fiction; to look at the future and see how we can change it for the better.  Or what happens if we donโ€™t. 

Art as Resistance: Writing in Troubling Times

I’m doing good work on Majestic Seventeen, my current project. Creeping forward 500 words at a time. “The End” has assumed the nature of the horizon: an abstract concept that recedes before you, never attained. It’s a big book!

But I write because I don’t know what else to do.

When the World Feels Like Itโ€™s Burning

It’s hard to articulate even to ourselves how bananas and terrible everything is right now. Oligarchs crashing the entire world economy to enrich themselves further. Law-abiding people being detained and disappeared. A dipshit narcissist tech nerd chainsawing the federal government for no good reason as far as I can see. Meaning and reality themselves totter under the weight of lies and conspiracy theories. And that doesn’t even touch on the endemic problems that fester in the background — climate change, inequality. The wheels are just coming off our civilization.

This is why I write speculative fiction. To try to imagine something different, something better. Hope arising in the ruins, from lost Atlantis, from America. I have personal experience with that, rising from ruins. Hurricane Katrina. This year is the twentieth anniversary. It always shows up in my work and it will show up in a big way this year.

I watched this ruination for a while. My entire career. Public librarianship gives you a raw faceful every day of the structural injustice and endemic heartlessness of our society. You work with people who have been failed by society in every possible way. Deliberately, methodically. Then kicked when they’re down. The “digital divide” just exacerbated that over the last thirty years. Requiring computer literacy and expensive technology from people who were functionally illiterate, the first of the many ways society failed them. Having to go online to apply for a job at Walmart. It isn’t right. The public library has been the finger in the dike of that flood of injustice all along.

The year of the pandemic, I had a health crisis of my own, and when early retirement was offered as a cost saving measure for city government, I took it. So I could turn my attention to writing. Before I died.

Art Is Not a Luxury. Itโ€™s a Spell.

I pulled an Oracle card today, from the World Shamans Oracle, and the card was Orpheus. The tragic, mad poet-sage who could move the stones to weep with his song. Appropriate since I was going to work on this very blog post. The guidebook says, “Poetry is a form of shamanism that takes place in language; each word acquires value in the verses and has the power to re-enchant the world.”



That’s what I’m trying to do, why my writing feels as much a spiritual practice to me as creativity. Re-enchant the world. Western culture is absolutely desperate to re-enchant the world. I state that in my Artist’s Statement: I write “pulpy, entertaining speculative fiction that also advocates progressive values, and interrogates structures of power and belief. My goal is to entertain people by telling tales of other worlds, which help them think how we could manifest a better world here and now.ย ”

In times like these, art is not just entertainment or a luxury. Not an escape. It is resistance. It is survival. Do you remember how desperately we clung to art through the Covid pandemic lockdown? It was the only thing that got us through. Shows, comedy, music. Even baking bread like it was a blessed sacrament. That is what I learned from the pandemic: art is non-negotiable.

Art is life.

The Power of Naming

If shamans are healers, I’m not a healer of bodies, but of meaning. Telling stories that help bind up the wounds of civilization. The Pono Way is about solarpunk, DIY resistance to imperialism and the dangers of xenophobia. Even people who don’t like the book get the message. Daughter of Atlas is about the collapse of imperialism and the danger of ecological destruction. Majestic Seventeen is turning out to be about facing down systems of power, control, and belief. Yes, they’re all adventure speculative fiction, but I hope they’re more than just that.

My Lane is the Highway

I reference this more in my post My Lane is the Highway. I don’t need to write to put food on the table. I can let my ideas expand, experiment with different forms, different shades in the prism of speculative fiction. I write to entertain people but also make them think. Before anything new arises in the world, someone has to imagine it. I can do that.

The world we have now didn’t arise from natural selection or the invisible hand of the market. It was deliberately made, and it is working as intended. Extracting wealth and blood from the masses to gorge the billionaires. It can be unmade. All this suffering isn’t necessary. We can do better.

A Closing Incantation

So I write, because it is one thing I can control, and contribute, when the world is collapsing around me. Even at the end of empires, life still goes on. People still work and earn money. They still need entertainment. Spec Fic has always been a Trojan horse to sneak in new ideas, on the pages of pulp magazines and the panels of comic books.

My pen is my wand. My book is my spell. I sing for a better world. Creating something when the world is falling down is an act of defiant hope.

So what do you sing? What is your spell? How are you going to re-enchant the world? It needs you to dream a new dream, now more than ever. Join me.


Scorpio Rising

So it’s my birthday month. This year for my birthday I’d like to ask your help in buffing up my “author platform” – my “Kirsten Corby, Author” social media. I’m getting more serious about properly marketing my work, as MJ-17 isn’t going to be finished anytime soon.

The best thing you can do, of course, is review my books, if you’ve read them, at Amazon or Goodreads. Just a couple sentences is all it takes. Even if you didn’t like them! A couple negative reviews lend legitimacy.

While at Amazon, find me and “Follow” me as an author. If I get enough people following, I can access the analytics, which could help my advertising efforts.

Here’s my Author page, all it takes is one click:

http://www.amazon.com/author/kirstencorby

Thanks!

PONO WAY News

So I have good news and bad news about my book THE PONO WAY.

Good news: the book gained a really positive and lengthy review on Amazon. Check it out here. Thanks, K Reviews! An auspicious name for me!

Perhaps that sale came through the Self-Published Science Fiction Contest. Which — segue! — brings us to the bad news.

THE PONO WAY did not make it to the final round of the competition. Not really bad news, I guess, but not-great news.

I was expecting it. Reviews by contest judges were mixed. And there were only seven finalists, so the competition was steep.

I’m happy to have made it through the semi-finals. Big shot of confidence for my career.

Congratulations to all the SPSFC finalists! May the best entrant win. Here they all are:

Changing Vision

If you’re interested in my work, you’ll like this video by the estimable Beau of the Fifth Column

This video comes to me today in a low place. I needed this. Encouragement. Support. Thank you, Beau.

It’s short, and it’s impactful. Do watch it. Fuel for the journey.

Life Comes at You Fast

So I have some good news and some terrible news. Good news first.

THE PONO WAY has advanced to the semi-finals of the Self-Published Science Fiction Contest! Out of 300 books, my book has advanced to the top 30. That is a hell of an accomplishment, I think! Last time I entered a contest like this I didn’t make it through the slush pile. I’m so proud!

Now the terrible news.

My Dad has died.

It was quick, a stroke or heart attack or some such. My brother found him in his kitchen.

That was a hell of a shock, I tell you. As far as we all knew, he had a good bill of health for an 85-year-old man.

My hope this year was to spend more time with Dad and try to draw him back out into the world since my Mom died and the pandemic. That we could help each other back into the world.

Instead I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.

In some ways it’s good he went so fast. He lived independently and in his right mind until the last day of his life. Good for him. Hell for us.

My brother and I will be dealing with his affairs for a while. It just happened. We don’t even have the death certificate yet.

Say a prayer or light a candle for the soul of Roger Corby, if you do such a thing. We could all use the help.

Bye, Dad, I love you. Thank you for everything.

The Republic of Orleans

https://link.medium.com/2LDqoJTWtlb

I don’t necessarily agree with this guy’s premise, but his map of a Balkanized United States is very similar to what I imagined in THE PONO WAY.

Some of my workshoppers shocked by that. But a Balkanized future US has been a staple of science fiction for a long time.

I have to say, I didn’t imagine the Republic of Orleans, though. Shame on me. That ties right into my last post, doesn’t it? **makes notes.**

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