Martin-Pierre Frenette

• Background on how I am building my Sci-fi universe

  23.11.2011,My Writing,Martin-Pierre Frenette,

  If you have read some of my articles, you might know that I have been working during the last 2 decades intermittently on my own sci-fi Universe.

  You might even know that I am currently working on a trilogy of movie scripts when I am some time available.

  There are two main philosophies when writing a long term saga: the architect and the gardener.

  GRRM, the author of A Song of ice and Fire (commonly known as Game of Throne), describes himself as a gardener.

  He planted a "seed", which consists of his characters, his universe, his rules and his background information and slowly lets his story come to life almost on it's own.

  This is a fantastic approach because it let's each character live their own lives. It also allows the author to refine his future ending as new details are built.

  Sadly, it also means that it is hard to ensure that the ending truly fits with the story because a new development might steer the story in an unexpected direction which wasn't seeded properly.

  I, myself, always wanted to be an architect. I remember a conversion with other aspiring authors in college in which I described my style as fiction realism (before being blasted because the term already existed to mean something else).

  My vision came from Star Wars and Star Trek where in every story, new planets and new technologies were invented to fit with the current story.

  In "A New Hope", we don't hear about Hoth, Cloud City, Dagobah or any of the other new locations from other movies. We don't get any sense that they exist and every new story brings possibly dozens of new worlds.

  In Star Trek, almost every week bring a new planet of the week we will not hear about in the future.

  To constrast, In Lord of the Rings on the other hand, we have a map from the first book giving us an idea of what is in the world even if we do not have the complete details. We at least have a boundary, an general overview.

  That's how I built my universe. The list of inhabited planets has been decided over 15 years ago as well as the major pivot points, including the story line for the 3rd movie of my trilogy.

  Everything else was build with that ending in mind, including pieces of dialogue planned in the romantic comedy prequel set in the 1990s, or 900 years before the end of the trilogy.

  I, clearly, am an architect when it comes to my universe. I know the ending, I know the layout and I only need to fill in the details.

  In fact, I plan to soon release the list of the colonies along with a summary description, if only to prove my point.

  Sadly, this means less flexibility. I have a few ideas I have to reject because they do not fit the framework, but it doesn't prevent me from creating future stories in a different universe.

• The Robbery, a new short story

  16.06.2011,My Writing,Martin-Pierre Frenette,

  I wrote this Short Story on the morning of June 16th 2011. It features a man, John, who has to rob a convenience store to save the life of his wife. He convinces himself that it is just, but is it?

  John carefully adjusted his ski mark to ensure it would properly hide his face. For many robbers, burglary was a way of life, but for John, it was just an isolated event designed to save his wife's life. It was tonight only: he would never rob a store for the rest of his life, living on with the shame of this single transgressions from the law.

  After making sure the gun was loaded and properly concealed under his shirt, he checked thru the convenience store window to see if a customer was present. He couldn't see the back, but he decided to take a chance.

  Robbing a store was one thing, but having to fight with a vigilante was another.

  How did come to this? How could he sink so low? It just a minor accident. Lisa had simply lost a lot of blood. It happens all of the time.

  The emergency room costs had been high, but by maxing out their credit card, they had saved her or so they thought.

  The stiches were nothing. The pain was nothing. It's the anemia which was killing her and, at the same time, him.

  John remembered asking for a pay advance to Tony, but like Tony said: "you are just a dock loader kid. I cannot know if you are planning to just quit and are asking money knowing well you won't get back".

  Tony did offer for overtime, but the check would come too late. Lisa needed blood and she needed it now. She didn't have 2 weeks to wait. She might not even have 2 days.

  "Mister Ganger, we are sorry, but Lisa's blood type is extremely rare. It will cost 2200$ to get enough it and you do not have insurance"

  The words resonated in his skull as he stepped into the store. Stores have insurances, but he didn't. The hospital agreed to finance the money, provided they paid 10% upfront. That was 220$ to save his wife.

  He found 5$ in loose change in the apartment. He sent a few things to the pawn shop and tried to sell his own blood for money, but he was still short by 60$.

  It may not sound like a lot, but when it's the only thing you are missing to save your wife, you think about the options. The bank didn't want to help: they were overdraft already. 

  They didn't have family close or even friends. They were strangers in the anonymous city. Ironically, had Lisa not been disowned by her parents, he could have asked for blood from them: parents are usually compatible blood donors. But no, they never accepter their marriage and as a result, they lost contact.

  John had visited their old apartment, but they had moved years ago, leaving John with his only option: using his old father's gun to get the money.

  He tried to pawn the gun, but it was too much in a bad shape. 

  It wasn't worth enough to save her life but it was strong enough to kill someone. Strange paradox. That's how he etched the plan. The convenience store was enough far away to not be recognized but close enough to run back from in a hurry.

  All he needed was to leave fast enough and make sure the clerk didn't shoot him first. Well, not that he planned to shoot, but he thought that if you give an ultimatum to someone, you need to follow through. It's in their hands now.

  "This is a robbery. I just need 60$. Give me 60$ and keep the rest. I won't hurt you"

  He needed 60$, so he asked for 60$. No need to be greedy. 

  Lisa and him wouldn't have any money until his next pay check to pay for food, but that didn't matter. They had some bread, some butter and a box of crackers. Being hungry for a few days wouldn't kill them, but Lisa didn't have long to live without a transfusion.

  The Chinese man began to tremble. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me. No weapon. Not armed". Slowly, the clerk who was probably the owner of the store pulled out the cash from the register. There were two bills of 20, two bills of 10 and a few bills of 5 and 1.

  Lisa was saved.

  John moved forward and picked up the twenties and the tens, leaving the rest on the counter. He was a thief now, but he was honourable. He took what he needed and left the rest to the store.

  Losing 60$ wouldn't kill the owner, but it would save his wife. He even made a mental note to come back in a few weeks to drop an envelope with the 60$ to repay for his crime. He would make it right. He would save Lisa.

  Lost in his joy, John was stirred by the sound of a gun shot.

  His first reaction was to think that he had pulled the trigger by mistake, but when he felt a warm liquid on his chest, he understood.

  John barely had time to turn around before he collapsed on the floor, dropping his father's gun at his feet.

  Behind him was a tall man in his fifties holding a smoking revolver. "Down you go, meth head. One less addict in the city", he said to John as he towered over him, ready to shoot a second time if he needed to.

  As John took his last breath, he realized under his ski mask that the man in question was no stranger, but rather Bill, Lisa's father, his father-in-law, who not only had enough money to save his own daughter, but also the appropriate blood type.

  As John lost consciousness for the last time, he realized that by leaving his papers at home, Bill would have no way to know where is daughter was or even that she was in trouble.

• My first scenario

  26.04.2011,My Writing,Martin-Pierre Frenette,

  You can read more about the project on its official webpage www.statique-mentale.com (in French only for now).

  For my English speaking readers, here is an overview of the first movie:

  John Pitfield had a dream life

  John was happy. The house of his dreams, with the woman of his dreams and he shares his happiness with his 7 years old adopted daughter.

  He also had a dream career at the university, with his mentor, they push the limits of physics.

  He even had the pleasure to meet his wife frequently at the University since she was a professor of world economy.

  He had come a long way since the tragic death of his parents in car accident when he was only 19 years to care for her teenage sister in an identity cris

  But that was the past

  A few months ago, John lost his mentor in a tragic accident laboratory causing him to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.

  He recently returned to work, but the direction of the university no longer supports the project.

  As a misfortune never comes alone, his wife was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and forced to an extended sick leave, shortly after John's, causing them to risk losing their home.

  Their daughter, Alexia, is feeling the stress and is now a situation of failure in school.

  Today, John seems to be losing his head

  He has memory losses and no longer finds any logic in his life.

  Clear events in his memory contradict the recollections of his close friends and family.

  His family claims to have spent time with him when he remembers clearly to have been alone.

  Worse, his notes taken at the beginning of the project are visibly different than he remembers.

  His car is not even always parked where he had left it in the morning.

  His psychologist is clear... he is still suffering from PTSD

  But how can John be sure that it is his memories that are false?

  They seem so real, too real.

  What if his wife, his daughter, his assistant, his psychologist and even his notes are all lying to him for a secret nefarious reason?

  What if he was not paranoid? What if someone really wanted to harm him?

• My French short story for the literature evening

  21.10.2007,My Writing,Martin-Pierre Frenette,

  On October 20th, 2007, I participated with friends to a literature evening where poetry and literature extracts were read in French.
  
  Personally, I love short stories, so I decided to read 3. I found 2 on the Internet, but I wrote the third one on the same morning and I read it, not mentioning I was the author.
  
  Here it is (in French), for those who were absent.

  Mike sur la route

  
  Mike roulait tranquillement sur la petite route de campagne, n’ayant que les phares de sa voiture pour guider son chemin. Il se remémorait avec amertume la perte du contrat Langdon et l’humiliation qu’il a subit lorsque que Robert a été nommé pour les consulter. Faire un toast à sa santé et au succès de l’entreprise était doublement frustrant que c’est lui qui avait été choisit pour aller porter la documentation au client, après le 5 à 7.
  
  Mike en profita pour jeter un coup d’œil sur son GPS pour voir sa position quand il heurta quelque chose de gros. Après avoir freiné brusquement, il sortit voir quel animal il avait frappé et inspecter les dégâts.
  
  Horrifié, il ne pu retirer ses yeux du corps du jeune adolescent lorsqu’il composa le 911 demanda assistance. 
  
  D’ où était venu le garçon ? Il n’y a aucune maison à des kilomètres à la ronde ! Que devait-il faire ? Prodiguer les premiers soins était inutile : la tête du garçon pendait à un angle anormal indiquant que la nuque était évidement brisée.
  En attendant les autorités, il repassait dans sa tête les instants avant la collision. Non, il ne dépassait pas la limite de vitesse. Non, il n’y avait pas de stop ou de passage piétonnier. Non, il n’y avait pas de parc sur cette route isolée.
  
  La patrouille d’autoroute arriva en premier. Apparemment, il y a une nouvelle autoroute de l’autre côté du petit boisé que son GPS ignorait. Mike vas devoir télécharger de nouvelles cartes. L’officier rassura Mike que tout allait bien se passer et fit sûr de s’informer de son propre état, tout en vérifiant que le jeune homme était bien mort.
  
  L’ambulance arriva pendant que l’officier avait rejoint sa voiture pour rédiger son rapport avec les papiers de Mike et ceux du pauvre garçon. Les paramédics confirma qu’il ne pouvait rien faire et expliqua au policier de faire venir un médecin légiste.
  
  Mike, loin d’être pressé d’aller déposer le contrat qui lui a échappé en profita pour griller une cigarette. Plusieurs fois il avait essayé d’arrêter, mais le stress du contrat Langdon lui avait fait reprendre sa mauvaise habitude.
  
  Une fois le rapport amorcé, moins de 5 minutes après son arrivée, le patrouilleur demanda à Mike de passer un alcotest. « C’est standard lors de décès lorsque le conducteur sens légèrement l’alcool »
  
  Mike rassure le policier qu’il n’a pris que deux consommations dans les trois dernière heures, et aucune au cours de la dernière. Le taux de 0.06 était un peu élevé, mais demeure sous la limite légale qui aurait transformée ce simple accident en poursuite criminelle.
  
  Le médecin légiste arriva environ vingt minutes plus tard, et c’est dirigé directement vers la victime. Mike a tenté de parler à celui-ci, mais l’officier l’a tenu à l’écart.
  
  Après seulement quelques minutes, la vie de Mike bascula. On lui apprit que la victime était mort depuis déjà 2 ou 3 heures. Le policier en conclue que Mike avait frappé le garçon non pas la nuit, avec un taux d’alcool de 0.06, mais quelques heures plus tôt, avant le coucher du soleil, alors que son taux d’alcool dépassait la limite légale, et qu’il avait attendu avant d’appeler les autorités.
  Même le juge n’a pas retenu la version de Mike : il y avait assez de temps entre l’appel aux policiers et le toast du début du 5 à 7 pour qu’il frappe la victime et attendent de dessoûler.
  
  Même Mike étais perdu et se faisait lui-même convaincre par la version du procureur de la couronne selon laquelle la perte du contrat Langdon et la consommation d’alcool à rendu Mike furieux au point de rouler à tombeau ouvert sur la petite route de campagne plutôt que de risquer d’échouer un alcotest sur l’autoroute.
  
  Mike accepta même la sentence de 14 ans de prisons sans broncher, jusqu’au jour où un homme le visita en prison pour le remercier d’avoir passé sur la petite route de campagne prêt de l’autoroute où il avait lui-même frappé le garçon plus tôt en état d’ébriété avancé cette soirée là. Il allait cacher le garçon dans le bois quand les phares de l’auto de Mike lui donnèrent l’idée de lancer le cadavre sur sa voiture…