A submission for the ArchDruid

One of my links is to The ArchDruid Report, a blog run by a genuine
modern day archdruid who posts erudite commentaries on Peak Oil, climate change, political stagnation and other topics. Many blogs discussing these subjects often post hysterical, conspiracy laden screeds that offer nothing substantive about how to address the issues or if they do, the solutions are useless or worse.

Thankfully John Michael Greer’s blog is an antidote to these various unhelpful rants, and irregardless of whether you agree with him or not, it is always a great relief to read one of his weekly posts lucidly discussing whatever topic he chooses to address. As Peak Oil and its consequences draw many comments both for and against his position. John keeps a tight rein on the discussion, deleting any posts that are pointless, vituperative or out and out flaming obscene, contributing to a civility that is often hard to find on other blog commentaries.

Several years ago, noting the great interest in the collapse of modern civilization (which according to John is occurring in very slow but inexorable motion even as we type), he issued a challenge to his readers to come up with fictional stories set in the near and distant future that depict what things might eventually look like. He detailed the requirements to ensure that contributors didn’t head off into La-La land over their personal interpretations of the future but kept close to a plausible scenario.

The results produced several collections of these stories in the near and more distant future. As with any short story books, there were stories that were quite good and others on the banal side.

Last spring the Archdruid Greer issued yet another call for fiction stories about what the future might look like after peak oil.  He reprinted the story requirements this time with an extra twist.

“Stories should be between 2500 and 7500 words in length;

They should be entirely the work of their author or authors, and should not borrow characters or setting from someone else’s work;

They should be in English, with correct spelling, grammar and punctuation;

They should be stories—narratives with a plot and characters—and not simply a guided tour of some corner of the future as the author imagines it;

They should be set in our future, not in an alternate history or on some other planet; They should be works of realistic fiction or science fiction, not magical or supernatural fantasy—that is, the setting and story should follow the laws of nature as those are presently understood;

They should take place in settings subject to thermodynamic, ecological, and economic limits to growth; and as before,

They must not rely on “alien space bats”—that is, dei ex machina inserted to allow humanity to dodge the consequences of the limits to growth. (Aspiring authors might want to read the whole “Alien Space Bats” post for a more detailed explanation of what I mean here; reading the stories from one or both of the published After Oil volumes might also be a good plan.)

This time, though, I’m adding an additional rule:

Stories submitted for this contest must be set at least one thousand years in the future—that is, after March 25, 3015 in our calendar.

That’s partly a reflection of a common pattern in entries for the two previous contests, and partly something deeper. The common pattern? A great many authors submitted stories that were set during or immediately after the collapse of industrial civilization; there’s certainly room for those, enough so that the entire second volume is basically devoted to them, but tales of surviving decline and fall are only a small fraction of the galaxy of potential stories that would fit within the rules listed above.  I’d like to encourage entrants to consider telling something different, at least this time.

The deeper dimension? That’s a reflection of the blindness of the imagination discussed earlier in this post, the inability of so many people to think of a future that isn’t simply a prolongation of the present. Stories set in the immediate aftermath of our civilization don’t necessarily challenge that, and I think it’s high time to start talking about futures that are genuinely other—neither utopia nor oblivion, but different, radically different, from the linear extrapolations from the present that fill so many people’s imaginations these days, and have an embarrassingly large role even in science fiction. “

This started the aging rusty gears in my brain to begin grinding ponderously away as I thought about what things might actually look like after a millenium. While it sadly wouldn’t be Star Trek, it certainly wouldn’t be some dystopic version of Mad Max either. Just life going on, but with some excess baggage it didn’t have before.

So, yes, I started writing a story. I did my best to keep within the ArchDruid’s guidelines, though given my tendency to color outside the lines probably not 100 percent successfully. Irregardless of whether it gets accepted or not (though I would die of happiness if it did), it definitely exercised (or maybe strained) my brain cells while I tried to create a future world that was reasonably plausible based on current developments and their most likely outcomes(which never seem to be what the experts think) within the constraints of a presumably interesting story.

I read a good deal of history so hopefully that gives me some sense of how cultures tend to flourish or go under over the long term. I also had to keep in mind that many of the resources that cultures in the past routinely took advantage of will either not be there or be in short supply. In addition there will be the vast detritus of our culture which unfortunately we will be bequeathing them whether they want it or not. It wouldn’t have been difficult for this whole thing to eventually evolve into a short novel but as the word limit is 7500 and the deadline is the end of this month, I have naturally been forced to keep my
speculations within the limits of a short story.

Just click on the Story link to the left and with any luck you will enjoy what you read.