Charles Stross, The Apocalypse Codex

Praying? Well, yes — metaphorically speaking. As you doubtless know if you’re reading this memoir, there is One True Religion; but I wouldn’t want you to get the idea that I was a follower of N’Yar lath-Hotep, or The Sleeper, or any of their nightmarish ilk. My prayers are secular, humanist, and probably futile. It’s one of my character flaws; I was a lot happier when I was an atheist.

Byron Rempel, Truth Is Naked

When the pastor’s daughter was hit by a car and killed, the pastor and his wife were hit even harder by her absence. His wife shut herself in the house, and the pastor found himself unable to help other people in need.

I had a few lingering problems with pastors, the same way I have problems with columnists and politicians and coaches. I thought it very easy to say one thing and do another. I had a deep suspicion of the power of positive thinking since my incident with the wall; it was usually just the crust on the toast. But I had a grudging respect for this pastor, who quit his job and took up long-distance truck driving instead, and whose wife accompanied him on the trips down long and straight highways. He had probably given comfort and advice to his flock before when there was a death in the family, and probably drew from a good stock of reassurances. And when it happened to him and his wife and nobody could give them comfort, they saw they were human. Somehow, I could see the same thing happening to me.

From “Dudley’s Magical Time Traveling Disease,” in Truth Is Naked All Others Pay Cash by Byron Rempel.

Robert Pogue Harrison, The Dominion Of The Dead

The contract between the living and the dead has traditionally been one of mutual indebtedness. The dead depend on the living to preserve their authority, heed their concerns, and keep them going in their secular afterlives. In return, they (the dead) help us to know ourselves, give form to our lives, organize our social relations, and restrain our destructive impulses. They provide us with the counsel needed to maintain the institutional order, of which they remain the authors, and prevent it from generating into a bestial barbarism.

The dead are our guardians. We give them a future so that they may give us a past. We help them live on so that they may help us go forward.

Jim Harrison, The Great Leader

It was up to each generation to be duped into lassitude by their own music.

David Gerrold, On Creating A Tightly-Structured Plot

Irwin Blacker had taught a technique which I found very useful now. Understand that every scene in a script is a confrontation (either direct or indirect) between two or more people; the story can be broken down into a series of one-line descriptions: “Spock tells Kirk to use a better mouthwash. Kirk slugs Spock.” Put these on 3x5 cards and you have the whole story in front of you to shuffle around as you choose.

The technique is especially helpful when you have two or more subplots to juggle, trying to fit them into a major plot. You can develop each plot line independent of the others and then assemble them for maximum impact and pacing. In this case, I was trying to build a story around the scenes depicting the fuzzies [Tribbles] breeding.

The first set of cards looked something like this:

• Uhura is given fuzzy by Cyrano, implication that she will bring creature aboard ship.
• In Rec Room, Uhura's fuzzy has kittens. Second generation, eleven fuzzies. McCoy takes one.
• Third generation. 121 fuzzies. Establish that fuzzies are asexual—all of them can breed.
• Scene showing that fuzzies are starting to get out of hand. Fourth or fifth generation.
• Fuzzies in plague proportions. Kirk finds fuzzies in ship's stores, orders them off ship.
• Kirk finds fuzzies in grain. 1,771,561.
• Kirk makes Cyrano clean up fuzzies.

Notice how the action builds toward a climax?

Having those cards to start with, then it is necessary to make up cards for the other elements of the plot and fit them in to see if they work.

At this point, a second set of cards is added:

• Teaser: Enterprise answers emergency distress call.
• Distress call is false alarm. Kirk is annoyed at local official responsible. Start of a beautiful relationship.
• Kirk and local official have argument to dramatize the fact that they don't like each other.
• Kirk and local official have another argument, heightening tension between them.
• Local official is embarrassed at having assistant exposed as spy.

This set of cards is shuffled into the pack and then perhaps a couple of extra scenes are written, scenes that are necessary to fill holes, smooth transitions, and provide necessary background material:

• McCoy studies fuzzies, reports analysis of their biology.
• McCoy studies grain, reveals that it is poisoned.
• Tag. Uhura with fluff-ball earrings.

This technique can be called “Instant Story.” I know of no better method for breaking down a story into its component parts to see why it works—or, more often, why it doesn't work.

At this particular point in space and time, I had two thirds of my story. I had my major plot and I had one subplot masquerading as a major plot. Putting them on cards enabled me to see that I needed another subplot. I wasn't sure what it was yet, but I could see that I needed it. Later on, when I did realize what should go in the gaps, the cards would help me put them in the right places.

From "The Trouble With Tribbles" by David Gerrold

Money Quote: The Matter With Morris, David Bergen

Morris had been raised a Mennonite stoic in a tribe that wasn't a tribe at all, but more a failed cult whose main sources of entertainment were music, wordplay, and suffering.

David Bergen, The Matter With Morris -- full quote here.

Full Quote: The Matter With Morris, David Bergen

Doug, early in September at one of the first meetings, had talked about the individual, and how, for all the complaints about the plight one might find oneself in, most people wouldn't change places with another even if begged or paid. “Most of us are, healthily, in love with ourselves.” True, very true, Morris thought, though he couldn't imagine why some of these poor men wouldn't want to be him. He was fit, somewhat popular, not bad looking, had money, drove a Jaguar, slept with escorts, had free time, was intelligent, read and sort of understood Tillich, possessed an okay jump shot, and with the aid of several ancient guides such as Plato, he was slowly crawling up out of the cave. On the other hand, when he looked at the men around him in the group, he wanted nothing to do with their lives. Doug, the egalitarian leader? No, too old and boring. Mervine? Too pitiful, too painful to consider. Peter, the Filipino who lived with seventeen other family members? No, too servile, too simple. Ezra, the fallen Jew? No, though there was something attractive about the tribal camaraderie. Morris had been raised a Mennonite stoic in a tribe that wasn't a tribe at all, but more a failed cult whose main sources of entertainment were music, wordplay, and suffering. He had shucked that off quite quickly. And so on. If he would be forced to choose under the pressure of torture, he would surrender to the possibility of something beyond this room, into the realm of film. He would be Jason Bourne, and he would marry Mia from Pulp Fiction, and they would live in humid bliss on a small island off the coast of Cambodia.

David Bergen, The Matter With Morris