Ripples Through Time by Lincoln Cole Page B

from the sun, smaller than
the others, but capable of sustaining life. Then he gently tapped the
paper. It was a decent opening sentence, but not as remarkable as he’d hoped. Maybe
he could wow the readers with the next sentence.
    The problem was, no more ideas would come to mind. It seemed
so easy when Asimov wrote, describing a planet down to the most basic details
with barely any effort. But when Jason saw the planet in his mind, all he saw
was a big floating ball in space. Did it have cities? He couldn’t decide. Maybe
it was a pristine planet, untouched by humans, and his characters would find
and turn it into a new home for humanity.
    But what characters? Where were they now, when the
story started? What were they doing? He had some ideas of things they would do,
but he didn’t know how to get them there.
    He heard Beth shout something in the hall. Probably arguing
with mom. A door slammed shut.
    Maybe he was wrong to start with the planet. Maybe he should
start with the main character. Jason scratched out that first line and scrawled
beneath it: Captain Jason Mallister stood outside the (insert ship name
here). It was a medium sized vessel, fast and well-armed. The hull was made of
a titanium alloy that kept it space worthy and protected the crew inside. Captain
Jason liked his ship, and he was a good pilot. He took his watch out of his pocket
and opened the lid, checking the time but also looking at the picture of his
beautiful wife.
    When Jason set his pen down this time he was happier. He
wasn’t sure why he decided to name the main character after himself—was that
too arrogant?—but it was still good. He liked that the guy had a wife. That
made him normal and believable. At least Jason thought it did.
    He was just about to pick up the pen to add another
paragraph when the bedroom door opened. “Go away Rickie, I’m working,” he said.
    “Not Rickie,” his mom said, “and you told me you were going
to—Jason what…what is all…Oh God.”
    He turned sheepishly in his chair, sliding it across the
hard-wood floor. He knew he was in trouble, and he knew exactly why. Wadded up
sheets of paper littered the floor all over the room. Dozens, maybe more. His
mom stood in the doorway, one hand covering her mouth in what he decided was
exaggerated shock. She knew he was going to use the paper, so she couldn’t be that surprised.
    “What is all of this?” she asked.
    “I’m working, and I didn’t need those pages anymore. They
weren’t any good.”
    She bent down and picked one off the ground. “This page is
half blank, and the back hasn’t even been touched.”
    “I didn’t want to—“
    “You can’t waste paper, Jason.”
    “I’m not wasting it—“
    “Do you know how hard your father works to get this paper
for you? And that desk?”
    Jason looked at the floor, suddenly abashed. “I just…I…I’m
sorry,” Jason said. Guilt flooded him when he thought about what she said. He
rarely ever saw his father, and even then it was only the short breaks between
shifts. Calvin Greenwood worked two jobs to support the family, and they were
still struggling to get by.
    And he knew how expensive paper was. He hadn’t been
intentionally wasting it, he just didn’t think about it. All good
authors tossed used sheets away when they didn’t need them. It was always about
the next idea, and the one after. He climbed out of his chair and started
picking up the sheets, un-wadding them and smoothing them out. “This one is
still…I suppose I could use it some more.”
    His mom sighed. “We can put these in the stove for now so
your dad doesn’t see them, but you have to use more of the paper. Don’t waste
it. We can’t afford to keep buying more.”
    He nodded. “I’m working on my new book. I think later there
are going to be giant river monsters, but at the beginning they don’t know
about them. The crew is going to find them when they land on a small planet to
explore.”
    “Do you have much