The Rhode Island Science Fiction Club - Graffiti

Miss Fix It by Marc Morisseau

5/23/2023

Miss Fix It
by Marc Morisseau

Her voice was in everyone’s head. “Pardon the interruption. For the next 24 hours, everything can be fixed with a touch.” There was a pause. “Notice I said every THING; no living beings. Or dead ones. That is all.”

There followed a wave of emotions: fear, panic, anxiety, dread, followed by excitement, anticipation, curiosity.

Then it began. Squeaky doors and floors ceased to tease their homeowners. Gutters were cleaned and roofs repaired. Leaky faucets were silenced. Living rooms were dust free and spotless. Restaurant tables no longer needed sugar packets under their legs. Every car owner became an expert mechanic.

However, some were disappointed. The real estate mogul who touched the side of his new project discovered that the tower would not build itself. A Mom learned that touching the hole she had just dug in the backyard and filled with water, did not become a swimming pool. But there were more hits than misses, and 24 hours later, it was over. Grudgingly, people returned to their normal lives.

On another plane of existence, the 20-something Technician sat at her station, watching the monitors. She felt her Supervisor standing behind her. “A genius idea” he said, “siphoning all that excess magical energy by allowing people to temporarily use it. There will be consequences.” “Yes, but they can be handled.”
The Technician smiled. “Just call me Miss Fix It.”

Marc Morisseau is the current Chairman of the R.I. Science Fiction Club, which he helped organize with some friends in 1987. His Grandkids call him Obi Wan, and he is also a CoHost of the Club's R.I. PEG Access show, Sci-Fi Journal. Oh, and he reads comics too.

Fairy Godmother's Day Off by Pam Messore

1/30/2023

Adelena unfastened the lock on her door, walked in, tossed off her cape and
threw herself down on her cot. She laid back with her eyes closed and her
arms flung over her head, taking in long slow breaths. She felt something
pushing against her side, so she reached back and withdrew her wand and
flicked it to the floor.
“I am tired” she whined to the walls.

Lately Adelena reached the end of each day in total exhaustion. There was
just too much to do. The need to provide for others and ensure that the gifts
were exciting and sparkly was straining. She had been at this for over 90
years. And the need never stopped. Every week another lost soul sought
another Fairy Godmother to solve their problems. It felt like there was a
never-ending parade of unfortunates that clamored for her attention,
appealed for favors, and ran off happily ever after, nary a thank you note in
return. It was all getting to be too much. Adelena felt wrung out, and in
need of respite; instead, she had one day off a fortnight. “Well, it’s better
than nothing,” she said consoling herself.

She sat up on her cot and took stock of her tiny cottage. It was austere,
without adornment or clutter. Adelena needed no sentimental knick-knacks
to represent moments in her life. She found comfort in the pragmatic. She
had what she needed and needed what she had. She lived alone with no
encumbrances such as children or pets that would need her. Solitude in her
cottage was her happiness.

She woke early the next morning. Her usually leaded eyelids popped open to
the rising sun. From her pillow she peeked through the window curtains and
viewed Sol as it seemed to sneak up onto the horizon, creating a soft orange
sky. “Nice,” she said, feeling much better having had a good night’s rest.
Adelena rose to meet the day. She completed her morning ablutions and
dressed. Moving wordlessly to her table, she prepared to her break her fast
with tea, fruit, and cheese. Hot steam rose in swirls above her teacup and the
aroma of wild rose and fennel filled her nostrils. She lingered over her meal,
relishing the luxury of time, and made a short list of today’s chores.

“I will walk to market square this morning. It’s time to replenish the
cupboard with produce and baked goods. Then maybe I’ll visit the butcher.
He promised me lamb chops last time I visited him. Oh, and a handsome
face has he!” smiling as she reminisced. “It’ll be good for me to be amongst
the townspeople and be unnoticed. And perhaps later today I will bake a
gooseberry pie to enjoy with my tea!”

Her enthusiasm rose with the Sun. She cleaned her cup and saucer, checked
to assure herself that everything was in its place and readied herself to leave.
She fastened her money belt and donned her cape. As she stood palming the
doorknob, “Should I just leave it here?” she asked herself. But being ever
cautious, she reached for her wand on the floor and secured it inside her
cape. Confident, she headed out to meet the day.

It was a short thirty-minute walk to the town. A winding dusty road led to
the town gate. Adelena nodded to the familiar constable observing people
entering the township. He smiled nonchalantly at Adelena and turned his
attention to people walking in behind her. Adelena reveled in the lack of
attention paid to her. She followed the noise coming from what she knew
would be a busy marketplace this morning.

Sure enough, the market was bustling with vendors and buyers, oxen and
asses, pushcarts and tables, and feral cats and dogs sneaking away whatever
foodstuffs fell to the street. When a vegetable vendor caught her eye, she
moved to their cart and engaged in age tested contest to see if she could walk
away with a bargain. This wheeling and dealing occurred throughout the
market. The longer the contest, the louder the voices; a gambler could wager
all day on the outcomes of the deals vociferously negotiated. Adelena’s
bargaining voice joined the cacophony of the marketplace. Buyers and
sellers sang the century’s old song of commerce. It was invigorating and
Adelena felt her old bones begin to settle into enjoyment as she roamed the
marketplace with her arms full of rewards.

Near the end of morning, she sought a carrier. Spotting a young lass of 12
years, with flowing red tresses, she called to her: “You, you there young one,
I offer you 2 sou to take my purchases to my home. Come back to me after I
have my lunch, and I’ll give you two more.” The young carrier’s arms filled
with Adelena’s stock. “Be sure to find me at The Sheppard’s Tavern.” And
with that, Adelena strolled by the bustling push carts and enjoyed the rest of
her morning.

Sparrows and pigeons squawked and clattered as she approached the tavern.
Seeking a handout, the birds danced at her feet. Adelena reached into her
pocket and found some crumbs from another day. “Here you go my hungry
friends.” She amused herself with the birds until the rumbling in her stomach
reminded her it was time for her lunch. Smiling, “I do so enjoy my days
off!”

She made her way into the tavern. Sheppard’s Tavern was her favorite day-
off place to dine. She enjoyed the dark, candle lit mood, the smell of meat
pies baking in the brick oven, the sounds of glasses clinking on the bar and
the assortment of locals carousing their day away. It created a feeling of
frivolity in Adelena; a feeling she could not rouse in her work.

Adelena sat as far from the ale bar as she could as she had no desire to
interact with the day drinkers. When Carlo, the proprietor, came to her, she
ordered tea and a slice of meat pie. While waiting, she examined the tavern’s
patrons. Assessing them one by one Adelena saw the burdens each held in
their heavy hearts. She winced at her knowledge of so much suffering.
“No!” she admonished herself. “This is your day off. You are not anybody’s
Godmother today.” But still she peered into their hearts and sighed for their
troubles. She stopped when she was jolted by the hard, dark heart of a burly
man in leather and fur. She judged him to be a man of middle years with a
weather-beaten face full of anger and rage.

His black eyes bore into hers. “Turn your eyes” he objected. A cruel sneer
smeared across his face as he leaned threateningly towards Adelena. “Turn
your eyes from me or I’ll carve them out and drop them in this jar,” he said
gesturing a burnt-black thumb to the pickled egg jar on the bar.
“No offense, kind sir.” And Adelena turned her head away from his
menacing scowl. At that moment Carlo brought her tea and pie. Adelena
savored the appetizing aromas as her mouth watered and her stomach
growled. She bowed her head for a silent blessing and then began eating.
Adelena ate slowly and mindfully, appreciating each mouthful and enjoying
the luxury of unencumbered time.
She resisted the temptation to observe the burly man, concentrating only on
her food.

Upon completion of her meal, Adelena inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and
cherishing the feeling of being fully sated and fully relaxed. She rested for
several minutes.

The tavern noise became white noise as she thought of how she would spend
the rest of her day. Adelena loved walking along the river that accompanied
her on her walk home. She would harvest wild flora to add to her
apothecary. She imagined what she would find this time of year. Her list
included echinacea, goldenseal, chamomile, feverfew, and milk thistle.
Enthused, she dug into her money pouch for a few coins to pay for her meal
and collected herself to ready to leave. Immediately, she remembered she
had told the courier lass to meet her at the tavern. She eyed Carlo and asked
for another cup of tea and waited patiently.

In a quarter hour the girl stood at the tavern doorway allowing her eyes to
adjust to the darkness. She hesitantly entered and searched for her patron. As
she walked past the bar, she accidently tripped on the outstretched feet of the
burly man.

“You clumsy child, watch where you’re going,” he barked at her.
The waif looked at him and because she was frightened, she giggled
nervously and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“What are you laughing at?” he sneered. He grabbed her by the back of her
blouse, “Who are you to laugh at me?”
Someone from the other end of the bar yelled, “Leave her alone” Another
person appealed, “Oh, don’t be an ogre. Let her go.”
He growled deep in his throat. “Don’t you tell me what to do.” And he
pulled the frightened girl to him and held her against his legs. “I do what I
please.”

“Let me go” she sniveled. The youngling attempted to wriggle free from his
thick vice-like hands. “Please let me go.”
Instead, he picked up the lass and took a long look at her. He grinned at her
frailty and fear. Others around him moved away. His menacing grin took on

a lecherous leer. “I think I need you to come home with me. You can cook
and clean for me. And when I please, you can bed me.”
The girl began to sob, “Oh please let me go. I meant you no harm. Please let
me go.”

Others around him began asking him to release her. They tried to use
kindness in their voices to mask their fear. One bold young man with a look
of stern determination gazed squarely in the eyes of the menacing man,
“Release her or I will hurt you,” he threatened.

The dark man laughed, “Oh you go ahead and try.” And with the girl held
under his left arm he reached back with his muscled right arm and clocked
the young man with a round house punch to his jaw. At the snap of his
jawbone, the young man fell to the floor. “Who’s next? No one tells me
what to do.”

Carlo retrieved a knife from under the bar. He approached the bully from
behind. With the girl swinging from his him, the bully turned towards Carlo
and swiftly pounded a pewter ale mug across Carlo’s skull. Blood poured
from the gash over his eyes and Carlo blindly moved away.

All this was observed by Adelena. Feeling responsible for the girl she
determined her course of action. She rose confidently from her chair and
addressed the burly man. “Kind sir. That young lass is my courier. She
entered this tavern to receive her recompense for delivering my packages to
my home. If you will, kindly release her and get on with your day. Kind sir,
I am asking politely. “

A huge guffaw spilled from his face. “Little woman, know your place. You,
like the rest, will not tell me what to do.” And he sat again at the bar and
held the girl to his chest. The girl, cheeks wet with tears, continued to
wriggle in his arms causing him to hold her tighter to his body.

Adelena heaved a deep sigh. Pushing aside her tea she stepped away from
the table.
“You will let go of the waif,” she admonished the man.
His grip on the lass tightened further as he turned towards the old woman
and sneered, “Be gone you old cow.”

Adelena rose to her full height. Her clouded grey eyes cleared to a blazing
sparkle. She glared at the ogre. “You will let go of that waif.”
The tavern became eerily quiet. The patrons dared not breathe. The lass
whimpered as she lay limp in the brute’s grip.

The big man took a threatening step towards Adelena. She expected his
attempt at intimidation and with silent resignation she reached into her cape
pocket for her wand. All eyes were on the ogre expecting an explosion of
violence. Instead, with her wand in hand and in a masterly fluid movement,
Adelena drew complicated arcane runes into the air. Cryptic words floated
out of her lips and into the wand. The tip glowed incandescently. The room
filled with thunder and an acrid smokey pungency that offended the tavern’s
patron’s nostrils. A fiery burst of light arced to the bar and through the
ogre’s chest.

The brute froze as if he was turned to stone.
Adelena spoke quietly to the Tavern owner’s wife, “Please fetch the child
from his arms.” The wife pushed past her fear and wrapped her arms around
the waif. She lifted the weeping child from the big man’s grip. Apparently
dazed he blinked but did not move.

Once the child was safely away Adelena pointed her wand at the big man
and recited a second incantation. Immediately he woke from his trance. He
growled as he realized he no long held the child. He stepped forward and
pulled back his arm to launch a blow to the old woman’s head. She blocked
his fist with her wand and for the third time spoke an incantation of
inaudible words. The patrons covered their eyes and ears as a blast of white
lightening exploded in the tavern.

In the time it took Adelena to sit again with her tea, the tavern patrons began
to murmur their astonishment. Slowly they turned their eyes from the old
woman to the ogre. However, where once there was an ugly, brutish,
menacing man there now appeared a ruffed fur canine with the size and eyes
of a wolf and the wagging tail of a loyal companion.

“Here Bruno.” The canine ran to the woman and licked her face. She patted
and cooed to him. “Come” she commanded.
Adelena collected her belongings, gave the child all the money she had in
her pouch, and walked out of the tavern.

Humming softly to herself, Adelena walked home aside the river picking
wildflowers and herbs. She gently placed nature’s bounty into her basket
pleased with variety of plants she foraged along the way. After a while she
reached into her pocket and next to her wand, she found a biscuit. “Here
Bruno.” The massive canine hurried to her side and nuzzled the treat from
her fingers. Adelena patted his head and said, “I guess I have a pet. Well
then let’s go home.”

Bruno wagged his tail in eager acquiescence and trotted alongside Adelena
for the duration of their journey.

Pamela Messore is a RI Social Worker whose hobby is writing short stories. She is often pleasantly surprised that her stories frequently find themselves travelling in the Fantasy/SciFi realm. She is a big fan of Ursula Le Guin and James Tiptree. Pamela is sure that her love of reading has made her a better person.

Graffiti Is Changing!

3/5/2022

When this group started in 1987, we launched our newsletter Graffiti to keep our membership informed about SF news, upcoming meetings, birthdays, and other events. Yes, we printed out copies and mailed them to everyone. No Internet back then, so we did things the hard, and may I add, fun way. It was filled with cool artwork, awesome covers, and clever short stories.

Flash forward to 2022, and yes we have that infamous Internet which allows anyone and everyone to communicate within seconds. So Graffiti changed too, and was regulated here to a page on our website.

Many of our members have been working on their writing skills in the hope of publishing their SF/Fantasy/Horror stories. We've had a few people form a Writers Guild on and off over the years. That Writers Guild has been reactivated, and Graffiti will be the site where their works are published. The plan is to publish a number of short stories in Graffiti on a Quarterly basis; that will give us enough time to organize, edit, and publish them. If you are interested in working on this Writer's Guild team, please drop us a line.

We're looking for short stories 200 words or less. There's no payment for this, but all contributors keep their publishing rights, so it's your story forever even if it's published here. We look forward to seeing your questions, comments, and cool stories. Have fun!

Here's the email address for submissions: RISFCGraffiti@gmail.com

Chief Concerns, the Chairman's Column September 2021

9/6/2021

Yes, it's been too long since my last article. This past year has been a tough one for all of us, as COVID issues continue to plague our world. My job has changed (for the better) and well, you know the drill...

However, one light at the end of the tunnel is the recent birth of our Granddaughter! Chloe Lee was born on August 20, 2021, and both families of the Mom (my daughter) and Dad couldn't be prouder. As a die-hard SF fan, I refuse to be called Grandpa or Papa, etc. Nope, this long time Star Trek fan was thinking of something like Captain or Admiral, but that would be pretentious. So this Grandfather is going the Star Wars route and will be called Obi Wan. Yup, I have big plans for this kid, and luckily her parents are fans too, so the next few years will be fun. Can't wait to help raise a little Padawan.

The RISFC is finally returning to in person meetings, with the September 2021 event being our first in almost two years. We've been going the Zoom route, and used a Chat service while streaming movies. Our Halloween Party is going to be awesome. If you live in the Rhode Island/Massachusetts area, check the Meetings section of this website, and join us sometime. We have been attending a few local conventions too, with RI Comiccon the biggest one being held in Providence this November. We don't have a table, but if you go, look for us wandering around, interviewing people for our TV show, Sci-Fi Journal.

So once again, until this variant is contained, wear a mask if needed, and get your COVID shots, so we can beat this stupid thing once and for all. And so people will stop dying, that would be nice too.

Welcome 2021! Can we get our lives back now please?

1/24/2021

2020 can best be described as the Year of Suck. A global Pandemic, followed by rapid unemployment, children and teachers stuck in their homes for schooling, thousands of deaths. Yes, this is going to be remembered as the year best forgotten.

Unfortunately as I write this in late January 2021, we're not out of the woods yet (why do they use that term? I enjoy walking in the woods, it's quite comforting, and...oh my, got lost again). There are new COVID strains being discovered every week, and vaccinations are just beginning to roll out. Most people in the know are saying we may not be out of this mess, and back to some form or normalcy, until later this Fall!

But there are good things to look forward to. Even though the movie theaters remain closed, we will be able to stream some pretty decent films in the comfort of our homes. Godzilla vs Kong is one example. It may not become Oscar material ( who needs the Oscars anyway?), but it's the kind of popcorn movie we need these days.

Locally our R.I. PEG Access cable TV show Sci-Fi Journal, is celebrating its 25th Anniversary in 2021! That makes us the longest-running PEG Access show in the State! Something for the RISFC to be proud. And though many SF Conventions have been postponed or canceled, many have taken the online route, and offered their programs via Zoom or other teleconference. Pay your membership fee, sign in to the Panel you like, and avoid The Great Unwashed. Works for me!

So goodbye 2020, hello 2021 with all its cautious enthusiasm. With patience, perseverance, and a little faith in each other, we can get through this. Again.

Chief Concerns, the Chairman's Column by Marc Morisseau

10/25/2020

Guess what? 2020 still sucks. Back in April I wrote about how the COVID crisis would shut down all forms of entertainment, including Conventions and movie theaters, at least for a few months. Well, I was wrong, and it looks like the shutdown will continue for the foreseeable future.

On top of dealing with a deadly virus this year, the Summer months have brought to light the tragedy of racial injustice, with some police officers making decisions that have cost lives, and caused an uproar in the United States. Let me say for the record that I support our local police (my brother is a retired ex police officer), don't agree with defunding, and think that bad cops should fired and/or prosecuted if deemed necessary.

Which kinda sorta brings me to the topic of racial equality and the science fiction community. The RISFC has always been an organization that accepts people of all races. Hey, we started this as a crew of Star Trek fans, so in our minds, our friends are not only black, white, yellow, red, and brown, but purple, green, orange, and all shapes and sizes! . Racial stereotypes do not exist in the typical sci-fi universe, nor are they tolerated in the R.I. Science Fiction Club.

If you show up for one of our meetings, you should expect to be treated with dignity and respect. Oh, and we'll probably want to know about which books you read, if you collect comics, your favorite TV shows and movies, the list goes on. You know, the important stuff.

During the next few months, expect RISFC meetings to be held via Zoom. It's not the same as in person, especially in light of the holidays coming up, which are usually our most popular events. But we'll get through this, all of us, and know that no matter how we gather, all are welcome. See you soon.

Chief Concerns, the Chairman's Column: My How Our Lives Have Changed

4/24/2020

The reason why there hasn't been a new Graffiti article in a couple of months is because, well, you all know why.

The Coronavirus Pandemic has decimated life as we know it in this world, let alone SF fandom. As an Educator, I find myself a newbie in distance learning; which means sitting in front of a computer for a few hours each day, and perfecting the art of Zoom meetings. I also started a YouTube channel, where I provide videos on everything from learning Shapes and Colors, to really cool 'magic milk' demos ( I teach in Pre K).

Our lives now include wearing masks every time we go out in public, and getting together with anyone outside your home is frowned upon. Many people have lost their jobs, and getting back to work too soon may mean the risk of getting Covid 19, and dying. This is serious stuff, folks, the nightmare of Doomsday scenarios has become real.

What has this done to the world of Science Fiction fandom? Free Comic Book day will not happen this year, because all the Comic shops have closed. Comic publishers are releasing a limited number of books in the next few weeks, but how fans will get them still needs to be worked out. Here in Rhode Island, TerrorCon will not take place in June, and other Convention organizers are hoping that things are good enough to be able to hold their evens in July & August. But even if they get a green light to hold an event, will fans still be too apprehensive to attend? We all know about hygiene and the 'Convention Funk', geez, what happens if you throw in a deadly virus too?

But alas, all is not lost. The RISFC members have come up with unique ways to gather, including Saturday night 'Covid-19 Movie Nights', where we all queue up a movie on Tubi TV (a free streaming app), and chat during the movie. Check out our Facebook page on how you can join us. We also plan on holding some Facebook Live demos, and continuing our Theme nights. We're still stuck in our homes, and the Potluck dinners are gone for now, but this is a fun alternative.

Life as we know it will never be the same, but Humans are a resilient species, and we will survive and thrive. So until we can meet face to face again, see you at the Zoom/Google Meet/Facebook meeting. Oh, and now's a good time to read all those books you have sitting on the shelf.

Stay Safe & Take Care
Marc Morisseau

Chief Concerns, The Chairman's Column by Marc Morisseau

2/6/2020

How do you feel about Themed Events? For 2020, our RISFC board has decided to offer our members more than just a place to gather, we're adding Themes to most of the monthly meetings. We started with a Harry Potter Christmas, and in February it will be all things Star Wars. April we'll be focusing on Star Trek. It's fun to see how our members invent unique names for ordinary food items as part of our Potluck dinners too. Can't wait to see who brings the Klingon dish.

The rest of the meetings up until June will include our Annual Sci-Fi Trivia Night, and we're taking another try at a Board Games event too. But we still have the latter part of the year after the Summer, to organize more Theme meetings. So what's your preference? Do you want to see a Dr. Who night? Are B Movies your thing? Are you a fan of Steampunk or Cyberpunk? Please write to us at risfc.communications@gmail.com with your suggestions. Be sure to check the Meetings section of this site, as well as our Facebook pages, for more information.
See you soon!

Marc

Chief Concerns, The Chairman's Column by Marc Morisseau

12/29/2019

2020 means it's the beginning of a new decade. Think about that for a minute. The past 10 years has seen lots of change in our lives. Personally, my wife and I saw our daughter grow up, graduate from college, and get married. I went back to my first love of working with children, this time in a school setting. The fact that I am in a Special Needs classroom makes it that much more awesome!

There have been changes in the R.I. Science Fiction Club too. In the beginning of this decade we changed the format of 'Graffiti', from a paper newsletter that we actually mailed to our members each month, to the online presence we see today. Admittedly, it's just a shell of what we offered in the past. You can largely blame technology and being able to access immediate information on your phone for that one.

I was looking through old paper copies of Graffiti, and noticed one common thread; members enjoyed writing articles about favorite TV shows, or books, or movies, and a couple of us contributed some pretty neat artwork too. We contributed to writing forums, presented 'The Adventures of The Gang', and members eagerly waited each month to see their part of the stories in print. It was 'tons of fun', and I miss those days.

But our advancements in tech, that gives us the ability to access information immediately as fore mentioned, has also isolated us. In the world of SF, if you are a Dr. Who fan, or a Star Wars aficianado, or live and breath Trek, you don't even have to leave your house to communicate with like-minded fans. They're accessed in seconds on your phone, tablet, or computer. In opening up the world to everyone, we have also isolated ourselves to the Tribe of Trek, or the Tribe of Firefly, etc. Differences of opinion, or even different Sci-Fi genres, are now rejected or even scorned upon.

So what does this mean for the next 10 years, and the RISFC? As I write this in late December, we have around 16-20 active members. We used to have close to 30-50. For the Club to have a future, it needs to adapt to the times. I see us working more closely with other fan clubs in Rhode Island, uniting the tribes, and there are quite a few of them. Collaborating with these organizations on things like meeting places, shared events, our presence at Conventions, will benefit the members of all these groups.

As Chairman, expect me to reach out to these clubs in 2020. I'm also going to review what activities we currently offer: some traditional events we'll keep, because members like them, but let's expand into new territory. That means everything from reviewing how we produce Sci-Fi Journal, to starting new projects.

So here's to a new decade, one where I'm admittedly excited and apprehensive. But when you are surrounded by family and friends like we share in the RISFC, the next 10 years will be great.

Happy New Year!
Marc

Chief Concerns, the Chairman's Column: What is F.O.M.O.?

12/1/2019

2020 will be a big year for streaming services. There's Apple TV, Disney +, HBO Max, NBC's Peacock, Quibi, YouTube TV , Sling, the list goes on.

For Sci-Fi fans, it gives new meaning to the term F.O.M.O., or 'fear of missing out.' Let's see: I'm a huge Star Trek fan, but I really don't want to invest in CBS All Access, because, quite frankly, besides having all the Trek shows available, there's nothing on this streaming service I want to watch. Yes, I'm missing out on Discovery, the new Picard series, Short Treks, and the upcoming animated ST series, but those shows will eventually end up on blu ray or dvd (the first two seasons of Discovery are available now). So this Trek fan doesn't mind waiting.

My wife and I subscribe to Netflix, Disney +, and Starz (we're both huge fans of their Outlander series). We also get Amazon Video thanks to our Prime subscription. There's a lot of great SF on all those platforms, so I don't really feel like I'm missing out. And my Roku & Firestick give us access to other apps with plenty of SF, Fantasy, & Horror choices.

If I do have any sense of this F.O.M.O., it's when I look at the bookcase in my Nerd Cave. It is stocked full of paperbacks I have purchased over the years, but have yet to crack open and read. I have 3-4 books left in Patricia Brigg's Mercy Thompson series. I have almost every ShadowRun novel printed, but still have 2-3 unread. I received a couple of Trek novels last Christmas that are still in my read pile.

So I guess when it comes to fear of missing out, perhaps we should look at it from a different perspective: check the nooks and corners of your life for the things you already have, waiting to be discovered. You'll find yourself so busy that you won't have time to experience F.O.M.O.
Have a joyous, blessed Christmas Holiday !

Marc Morisseau
Chairman, RISFC