Moonrats, Fiction Fragment II

Script for page one of a graphic novel.

Page Layout
Three standard rectangular frames. One large, half to 2/3 of page. Two small frames underneath. The margins around the frames are illustrated with a design that represent the lunar surface. As the location of the action changes from page to page, the design in the margin changes. Each location has a different design, as in Fables.

Frame One
Large atrium space. Center floor filled with couches, table, seats, etc. Plants, trees, even a patch of grass. Combination of hotel lobby, public plaza, food court. A place were people come to hang out. To the left, a wall of rooms with balconies overlooking the space. To the right, a passageway to other areas. People milling and sitting. Chatter.

The scene is dominate by a large window that shows the lunar surface. The earth hangs in the sky in the the classic 3/4 full position. There is no doubt that the observer is on the Moon.

At the bottom of the frame to the left, is the check-in desk/concierge area. It is in plain sight, but the reader should overlook it due to the splendor of the surroundings.

Purpose of frame. To have a space that a reader will immediately recognize as a luxurious and desirable. The reader should want to be there. This sets them up to find out that the permanent residents, i.e. Moonrats, reject everything the space stands for. Moonrats do not believe in wasted air. They do not believe in recreating the earth on the Moon. They definitely prefer to have several feet of rock between them and vacuum.

Frame Two
Close-up of check-in desk. Two people are standing close together behind the desk. Very close. One is either resting an arm on the other’s shoulder &/or they have arms around each other’s waists. Friendly, not amorous. They are watching the crowd. Clearly bored. Separated from the rest of the people by physical distance, dress, and attitude.

They are wearing black jumpsuits, black sunglasses, and black caps. The intent is thick, woolly garments rather than sleek, spy suits. (Not sure what the material is yet. What can ya make out of Moon rock?)

Purpose of frame. To show how Moonrats dress. They find non-Moonrat (Earthling? Barbarian? Gravity Granny?) spaces to be too cold and too bright. Because they live in confined spaces, Moonrats have zero personal space among each other. They are almost always touching or resting a hand/arm/leg on the person(s) they are with. (Pretty sure the idea of touching comes from The Quiet People in Whispers Underground by Ben Arronovitch. I took it farther.)

Frame Three
Check-in desk again. One person walking out of frame, quitting time. Sound bubble with ‘bye. Other person touching them on the shoulder in passing. No words. Moonrats should have a different font when speaking to each other. Softer. Quieter. Lower case?

Purpose of frame. Stage direction to get character out of this place to the next place. Arranged to show more Moonrat behavior. I am making the assumption that life on the Moon requires constant watchfulness. Lights are dim so that warning lights show up, see sunglasses above. Sound is kept to a minimum to listen for warning alerts and to monitor life support machinery. The way a householder notices when the heat comes on. Therefore, Moonrats speak softly and briefly. If talking has replaced social grooming, Moonrats have gone back the other way. They mostly talk to convey essential information and then use touch instead of chatter.

Page two will show the transition to a different type of lunar habitat, where the Moonrats live.

Moonrat lifestyle is based on two premises:

1) Living space will be the most expensive resource in a lunar habitat.

2) Privacy is a relatively modern notion.

Now, if I could only draw.

Previous Lunar Bits
[Origins of the Lunar Colony, Plot Fragment]
[Moonrats, Fiction Fragment]

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

More Finds, Rodney’s Stickers

Random Images

The world is vast & weird.

 

 
More treasures from coronovirus cabin fever [Found Fotos, Milton]. Stickers of photos of art work by Martine Greenlee [The Reveal]. Bought in the three finishes on offer: glossy, matte, transparent. I got the small size as test of concept. I’m sure I can find uses for the medium and the large, which is bigger than half a page. MaGree Shop on Redbubble.

Remember back when I talked about Rodney’s sweatshirt [Wearable Art]? I also ordered these stickers. They never arrived. Or, I thought they hadn’t.
 

 

Now that I see the flamboyant packaging, I do remember them arriving. This fact slipped my mind. I was convinced that they were never sent or that they had been wedged in with other stuff and overlooked. Glad I never sent that bitchy consumer letter to Redbubble.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Strolling To A Soundtrack, Walk Report, MLK Day Drum Run 2020

Fit To Ride

MLK Day 5K Drum Run Birmingham
Birmingham AL, USA
Saturday, January 18, 2020
 

eQs Photography


 
Results
Time – 56:02.0 (official), 55:24 (my time)
Pace – 17:27 (my time)
Overall – 288 (official), out of 311 (my estimate)
Female, Age Group – 29 out of 32 (official)

MLK Day 5K, Age Group Results, January 18, 2020, Results by The Right Time

Photos
Start photo, above, by eQs Photography, modified by purchaser. I covered up the two people. Not sure of privacy laws &/or propriety, so I just don’t. Obviously, not the photographer’s fault that I am blurry. Focus was on the two in front. eQs race photos

There is a finishing shot by a different photographer. It was more than I wanted to pay for a blog post. Click on the page, scroll down, way down. Crowder race photos

On Course
Back in January, I did my second 5K walk. Downtown Birmingham, again [Proof of Concept], slightly different route. We started on the northside near the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute.

Rain for the first half, allowing me to I feel virtuous while crawling along at a snail pace. Heavy downpour for a few moments, but cleared up before we got too soggy.

The route was lined with drum groups. Marching bands from different schools, a range of drum types. A few were lucky to be under a bridge overpass, or in a park shelter. The rest stood in the rain and kept making joyful noise as we all trudged past. It was AWESOME. By the time the sound from one group faded you started to hear the next. Afterwards, the drumlines faced off for a Battle of the Bands. Too cool. If – in the future – you get a chance to do a drum run, I highly recommend it.

No pics. Have photos. Decided against posting. Most of the performers were kids. Doubles the privacy issues.

No Medal, No Post
I was once again too slow to get a medal [Proof]. They had run out by the time I crossed the finished line. Means they had a high demand, which is good. The organizer announced that they would be getting more medals for the rest of us. Yay.

Never heard. Planned to check back once a polite amount of time had elapsed. I am certainly not going to ask them about a medal now. Since it appears I will be doing a bunch of these [Virtual Bling], I wanted to have this one in the record.

Screenshots from Map My Walk, if I remember correctly. Clearly the timing is not exact. At my pace, who cares? The elevation chart cracks me up. I thought it was a blank space at first. On the pace chart, the first dip is from a quick stop right after the start. The dips toward the end were probably photo ops.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

We – The Unicorns … Arrive, Guest Post

Welcome Meg! [Archives]
~~~

We – The Unicorns … Arrive

Story and Photographs by Meg McKinney

 

 
A small herd of unicorns emerged from my mailbox, without prior notification, or tracking number, one day this spring. I don’t know how they got there; perhaps an admin from another universe shipped them.
 

 
Seeing these four unicorns standing at the entrance, I was reminded of a horse trailer, with the high, round roof, and loading ramp.
 

 
Upon closer a closer look (I was trying to get my mail), I could see that each one has a different personality, color, and animated features.

After a few whinnies, and I promised not to mail them back to their previous location – which they wouldn’t reveal, they told me their names.

“Mystic” is green, high-stepping, and seems ever-ready for adventure, or, at least, center stage.

“Twinkle” is pink. With mane flying, she looks ready for a gallop, here on earth, or in the clouds. She pranced about the mailbox lid, and then went back in line, when the other unicorns cautioned her about being in a new, unknown place.
 

 
“Starlight” is blue, and could be the herd’s scout, or head of security, watching for predators, or the traffic on my street.
 

 
“Melody” is purple, and looks like a staff coordinator, possibly the one who makes sure there is food and shelter wherever they roam.
 

 
Unicorns are mythical creatures, credited with an aura of innocence and power beneath their glittery surfaces. For now, this colorful, miniature herd is among us, here in Birmingham, Alabama, USA.

Let’s follow them, for as long as we can.
~~~
 

 
Photographing, and writing about, toy unicorn models is a welcome challenge presented by Virtual Brush Box, during the pandemic of the coronavirus. My professional photography work came to a sudden stop, when the shelter-in-place guidelines became effective.

The opportunity to create fictional storytelling — a complete diversion from the worlds of photojournalism and corporate photography –- is new territory, and pushes my skill sets. This is good for every photographer.

Follow “We – The Unicorns…” as they let me know when, and where, they roam.

Editor’s note: The unicorns have been traced back to a breeding farm in New Jersey, here.

Hay Commentary, Or How To Send Back A Meal When You Don’t Have Thumbs

Horsekeeping

Lucky enough to have a horse.

 

 
Sorry about the poop pic, but it was too good to resist. sorrynotsorry

For breakfast, horses get one flake of yummy, green alfalfa hay and one flake of normal, boring coastal hay. Both horses eat the good stuff first, as one does. Rodney is a member of the clean plate club these days. Milton flings the coastal out of his way with his nose. Sometimes he leaves it for elevenses. Sometimes he ignores it all together.

The rational part of my mind says that Milton pushed the coastal away and then moved about. The hay happened to end up under his nether regions. It is of note that the hay has still square from the bale.

Pffft on rational.

Here is what I think of this hay! I poop in your general direction!

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

The Mood On Monday, The Ugly Bits

Thoughts

 
A pingback from The Errant Moon (Waves hi!) led me to Imperfect Patience: Oral History. In the post, the author points out that “Publicity shots … always show pretty faces.” They talk about the need to chronicle the ugly as well as the pretty. “According to Landdeck, We are at least thirty years from the time historians will be seriously writing about what this pandemic is now doing to people. We should leave a record. And the record should not be just about the pretty people … We need to record our fears our unattractive and embarrassing fears about outbursts.”

So here I go. If you are researcher in the future, Hello & good luck with your thesis, project, book, interactive hologram.

My ugly truth is that there are no ugly bits. I get to spend the day with my husband, whose company I enjoy above all others. My horses are in the backyard, so even if I can’t ride [Or Not], I can pet noses anytime I want. Having someone around has made me more productive. I’m a week ahead on blog posts, I’m working on my fiction. I even got my work assignment submitted on time, something I have been having trouble with. Plus, there is a built-in excuse for an off day. Sloth got you down? Feeling unproductive? Well, of course you do, there’s a global pandemic going on.

Oh yeah, that.

I’m horrified. I’m terrified. I worry about those I love. I worry about strangers on the Internet. I continue to click on headlines even when the stories will stress me out. I choke up during the Thank You commercials. Still, these are all happening at a remove. I don’t know anyone who has gotten sick. The closest death has been the in-law of a friend from long ago (virtual hug). I’m still waiting on tenterhooks for that first name. That first person I know IRL.

I have been dealt an excellent hand of cards for ducking the disease. Pick an indicator, I’m on the shiny side: female, no underlying conditions, young, or at least youngish, etc, etc. I will hear that the virus disproportionately affects X segment of society and then think to myself ‘I am not in that group’ and then feel relieved and then feel bad for feeling relieved. I feel like Winston asking them to put the rats on Julia rather than on himself.

I have not wanted to say any of this. I feel reluctant to write it even now. Partly, not to tempt fate. I see how easily it could all go bad, e.g illness, job loss, disruptions to the food supply. Partly, I don’t want to be cruel. Your life has gone to shit? So sorry, we’re good over here. Haven’t seen your horse in over a month? So sad, Imma gonna go feed mine a carrot. So, I post pretty pictures and amusing stories. Or amusing pictures and pretty stories. First do no harm.

That is my ugly truth. I’m having a nice time. Except for the existential screaming.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott