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Free-Range Fiction: Out of Touch and In Danger

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Holding a ChronoFact to be decoded. (What my Free-Range Fiction voicemail was changed into by the Future Coast team.)
Holding a ChronoFact to be decoded. (What my Free-Range Fiction voicemail was changed into by the Future Coast team.)

By Casondra Brewster

This week our Free-Range Fiction challenge came from a group using art to build awareness. Future Coast is a project aimed to be authentic fiction. In my world, or as I teach my students, that’s called realistic fiction. Some might even call this project a collaborative science fiction project. In a manner of speaking, I think that’s true.

Regardless, it’s produced by a group out of the Columbia Climate Center with a grant from the National Science Foundation, FutureCoast endeavors to spark collaborative exploration of possible futures, including climate-changed ones, and create an open channel for sharing visions of how people – like myself – and systems respond and adapt to change. Anyone can be creative and join in this project. You can find the voicemail that I did here:  http://futurecoast.org/voicemail/82002-20646827/

For those that can’t understand what I’m saying through all the 2065 “The Raiders Are Coming” panic, here’s the script I wrote for it. I know this isn’t necessarily in script format. I don’t know how to do that. And it was just for me to read and cue my background support (kid, dog). But I do know how it would feel to have resources be scarce, to work hard to get those resources for your family, and a group of criminal marauders threatening to take it, while your partner is MIA. For those that follow my gardening escapades, you know how I feel about the rabbits, imagine them in human form with much more ability to destroy. With that, I give you: Out of Touch and In Danger:

[ARGGGGHHH! Hon, do you ever answer your phone? Why do you even have one when you don’t answer it when your wife needs you the most. You were just supposed to get the prescriptions and get home. (subdued panic sound) Listen, I don’t know what your ETA is here to the homestead, but the Raiders are headed our way. (Kid crying in back) (off phone:  ‘it’s okay baby, go to the shelter)…Those weren’t rumors, as we thought. Crud. I can see smoke to the North and the East. I think they’ve already hit the old pig farm. The goats and chickens are in the hidey hole. They’ll likely decimate what crops we got, but…I’ve killed the main power save what’s in the fallout shelter. The kids and I are headed there as soon as I get off the phone. (dog howling in back?). Shoot, shoot. Hurry babe. I love you. Please hurry.]

As you can see, there was some improvisation in my actual recording. But, the gist of it is there. I had to keep it PG, which when I’m trying to act in a panic, is not normal. I had to do like three takes to keep the S&*^ and F-bombs out of there. Even given having to clean up my Old Soldier mouth, I really enjoyed doing this project, and it gave me some more experience doing multi-media work. If you decide to participate in this, won’t you tell me so I can add your voicemail to my personal Timestream on the project?

Published inFree-Range Fiction

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