DISTRACTIONS, PART III

E.B. White, celebrated author of Charlottes’ Web, said, “Creation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions.” As this past winter winded down, my parents’ health setbacks and estate issues stabilized enough so that I could pause weekly trips home. This allowed me to prepare for Minicon 58, one of my favorite sci-fi/fantasy conventions.

Photo courtesy of Minicon’s Ben Hurst.

My pent up creativity was spent on three convention activities. First, I again helped with the kid/teen Rumpus Room (for a previous post, click here). After my recent comic book indexing project, I started a free comic book “store” to encourage young readers to read comics (made up of a variety of acquisitions and donations from my own collection). This “Comic Book Nook” store sparked nice discussions, and a contribution of trade paperbacks.

Team Puzzle Challenge–the wounded team escaping Darth Vader. Photo courtesy of Minicon’s Ben Hurst.

My other notable Rumpus Room activity was organizing an all-ages activity called “Team Puzzle Challenge.” For each task, I wrote a fun short sci-fi/fantasy narrative to set up each logic puzzle/obstacle the team faced (several derived from the “River Crossing Logic Puzzle” premise). I played sound effects for each task, including Darth Vader’s theme song that played while the blindfolded, “wounded” team fled Darth Vader through the halls to an escape pod. There, they tackled a code-breaking task they had to solve to escape. I’ve done events like this before to help give kids subtle leadership experience (adapting a leadership reaction course from my military training).

Second, I helped with the convention’s newsletter, the Bozo Bus Tribune. My writing and reporting submissions ranged from news blurbs to panel reviews. I also did a micro-fiction prompt about time travel/prophesy paradoxes (inspired by guest-of-honor Wesley Chu’s The Art of Prophecy). This flurry of writing fiction, news, and critiques is an intense writing exercise I always look forward to.

Minicon 58’s “How to Write Disabled Characters” Panel. Photo above and author photos below courtesy of Minicon’s Ben Hurst.

Lastly, I was honored to moderate the panel, “How to Write Disabled Characters.” Compliments afterwards affirmed my prep work paid off, but the MVP was Lisa Freitag. She recruited excellent panelists for this touchy topic. The three panelists I shared the stage with were Lois McMaster Bujold, Michael Merriam, and Guy Stewart:

• Lois’s stellar writing accolades testify to the countless readers and writers she’s influenced, myself now included. The photo of her here shows her necklace, which is made entirely of her writing awards (Hugos, Nebulas, “Grandmaster”, etc., click here for a full list).

 

• Michael Merriam’s a popular, prolific panelist for a reason–his personal essay about a child mistaking him for the blind Matt Murdock/Daredevil should be required reading for anyone attempting to write a physically disabled character (link here).

 

• Guy Stewart’s touching personal stories and writing tips often caused a mindful hush in the room.

 

 

I’m biased, but after the hour discussion I think everyone left wiser. Difficult panels on challenging topics like disabled characters is why I love Minicon! Our panelists had such a great experience that afterwards several of us agreed to work on a sequel panel next year. That panels plans to discuss a topic that arose during discussions: how elderly characters are portrayed (as of 2022, CDC data states 43.9% of people aged 65 years and older have some kind of disability, such as cognition or mobility).

Writers Digest Your Story #135 photo prompt

Inspired by elderly characters, my April creativity surge also included a “drabble” (a tiny-story) submission to a Writers Digest Contest 135. The writing prompt image reminded me of a vengeful prank story my middle & high school theater director shared with me (five decades after her lake shenanigans). My story wasn’t a finalist, yet I adored my “inspired by true events” drabble. Like many unpublished stories, I hope to repurpose its fun elements into a future story. This brief writing and editing exercise was refreshing, so weeks later I did another “first sentence” submission to Writers Digest contest 136.

These recent writings, albeit small and inconsequential, were the first productive creative writing I’d done in a year. As 2025 unfolds, I’m still working at White’s advice of “forgoing the great and small distractions” of life. But I’m also learning that enjoyable distractions are important too (for mental health). This all means my writing schedule must adapt. Gone are days or week-long writing hermit stints. Now, I must strategize to squeeze in shorter, or ad hoc, time slots for writing bits like this long overdue, frequently delayed, three-part blog/journal post.

Related, my attitude must also adapt to reduce frustration. So, I’m trying more of the popular French saying, “Que Sera, Sera” (a “cheerful fatalism” attitude). For example, two weeks ago I had to have some urgent, but minor, melanoma surgery. This included two follow-up visits within a month, all three trips being 6-8 hour round-trip drives. No stress—I get to binge Lois McMaster Bujold’s audiobooks! Then, last week a powerful storm near Itasca State Park caused blow-down trees that are blocking a family property’s forest roads—a dozen in one spot alone stopped me from assessing the rest of the property (pics shown). No stress—it’s not an urgent task, so I’ll clear these trees when weather’s cooler and there’s less bugs!

Photo courtesy of Minicon’s Ben Hurst.

So, time—and a “Que Sera, Sera” mentality—will tell when I can do more extensive creative writing and revisions. Regardless of one’s approach to writing amid interruptions, I’ll end with a Benjamin Franklin quote I find helpful for writers:

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”

Well said. My “do something” list has priority nowadays, but that’s okay. My “write something” ideas are percolating for whenever I can squeeze in writing. Best wishes to all working on creative projects between life’s distractions!

THANK YOU STINKY ALGAE

Winter can have bad smells too! Photo by Randy Haaland

Should summer smell like rotting fish and algae farts? That’s what I wondered while I was in Fort Myers Beach for ten weeks last summer. During that time, Southwest Florida’s beaches were besieged by red tide. Casualties that washed ashore included threatened sea turtles and manatees, adored dolphins, and uncountable crustaceans and fish.

The costliest casualties though, were tourists. Their cash, wake boards, and sandcastles fled to more enjoyable beaches. Jilted residents and businesses went from frustrated to furious. They’re demanding changes. Otherwise, they fear property values will decline. Hotel empires will suffer. Ice cream stands will close.

All are legit fears. All because of an invasion of microscopic algae.

However, I’m glad my summer stunk. Really, truly, we should thank the algae.

We shouldn’t just be grateful that algae’s photosynthesis makes 70-80% of the oxygen we breath. We should appreciate that reeking algae helps identify careless human actions. In Florida’s case, fertilizer runoff in overdeveloped, flood-prone areas (where drainage ditches send fertilizer into waterways, feeding algae blooms). Other human-caused pollution doesn’t cause a stench, so outcry is less. For example, ocean microplastics and rising mercury levels in seafood get little publicity.

Plastic pollution, photo courtesy of geraldsimon00 on Pixabay
Photo courtesy of 3dman_eu on Pixabay

Thus, red tide’s funky farts and fishkills should be considered a welcome red flag.

Not convinced? Consider two examples of odorless water pollution.

Photo courtesy of USFWS

When I returned to Minnesota last fall, gracious friends let me stay at their island cabin. There, majestic bald eagles circled and perched in the tallest Norway pines. They watched for prey, preened, and rested. And screeched—a less dramatic sound than often portrayed in movies (my video below recorded three eagles screaming at each other). I’d never witnessed such a scene, despite eagles being common throughout Minnesota nowadays.

Rainy Lake eagle nest, photo by Randy Haaland

When I was growing up though, bald eagles were an endangered species. The reason for their decline was their eggs were brittle (breaking in the nest before a chick was mature). Research linked the thin eggs to the pesticide DDT in contaminated fish, a key food source for eagles.

Newborn chicks. Photo courtesy of USFWS.

Like canaries in a coal mine, dead eagle chicks helped symbolize that DDT harmed humans too (from autism to many cancers). Yet despite early warnings, the nearly odorless DDT was used for decades before it was banned in 1972. Residual DDT still persists in water today, over 45 years later, but eagle populations have recovered.

The second sad pollution example is a Minnesota Pollution Control Agency study I learned about last year when I attended Minicon 53. Scientists found widespread trace pharmaceuticals and chemicals in sampled rivers and lakes, including a remote Boundary Waters Canoe Area lake. The data led scientists to several surprising culprits, one of which was sewage pond evaporation that spread contaminants via rainfall (click to read an MPR article, or the actual report).

Minnesotans would riot if our abundant lakes, streams, and rivers suddenly were putrid. But trace water pollution rarely has a distinctive smell.  Rainfall pollution also has stunning implications, just as acidic rainfall does. Yet, no smell, no fuss.

Photo courtesy of Minnesota PCA

Sadly, politicians and citizens seem to only act when lawsuits and/or health problems pile up (including fish health, which affects fishing tourism). Without sick or dying people, speedy political action on pollution only seems to happen when one of three conditions exist:

These three conditions all apply to Florida’s red tides! Therefore, I’m optimistic Florida will defeat the algae blooms attacking its summer beaches.

Ft. Myers Beach, photo by Randy Haaland

Fresh salty breezes won’t return overnight. But Floridians can’t ignore fertilizer pollution has consequences. They can’t ignore rerouting the “River of Grass” has consequences. They can’t ignore declining tourism.

Stench spurs action.

For this kick to our nostrils, thank you stinky algae! If only all pollution had foul odors.