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The stuff dreams are made of
by
Raymond Coulombe
I’ve always loved Science
Fiction and Fantasy. They fire the imagination and open the mind.
The best literature inspires a person to think and feel. It fires the passions.
The beauty of my favorite genres of literature is the lack of boundaries. The thinking
can be way outside the box. Sometimes a good writer can take an idea, push it
to its limits and we can see if it breaks or not. Utopias, dystopias, magical
lands, technocracies, anarchy, theocracies -oh what fun it is to play.
In the center of everything is people. They might be seven feet tall
insectoids, but they are still people. We can explore what it really means to
be a sentient being. A good writer puts characters in fantastic worlds and the
adventures begin. People are challenged, suffer, triumph, fail, endure, hate,
love -the whole range of human experience.
It may be Frodo accepting a burden, or John Carter finding himself on a strange
world. It could be Corwin of Amber, searching for lost memories and discovering
who he really is. Then there’s young Mr. Potter, discovering a much larger
world and his special place in it. The people are central to the stories. The
strange and weird worlds and situations test and develop their character.
The reader is right there, along for the ride, thinking and feeling. It’s the
best of virtual worlds. No technology has yet to equal the mass of gray matter
between our ears, if only we’d turn it on. We may be sitting in a comfortable
chair in good light, but we are really experiencing swinging a sword on
Barsoom.
It is said that a mind stretched by new ideas never goes back to its original
size. If that’s the case, we get quite the work out.
We may be accused of being dreamers, but dreamers bring the world into being.
Without dreams we’d still be living in caves, freezing in the dark.
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