I'm a blogger because I enjoy writing, but I'm not good enough to be a "real" writer. When I was a kid I loved sci-fi novels and I bought a lot of 35-cent Ace double-novels. A double-novel was two novels in one paperback book. The book had two front covers and no back cover. You could flip the book over and rotate it, and you would have another book.
I even wrote a few short stories and sent them to a publisher, but I never got anything published. I was a kid, maybe 13 years old. I'm going to share the first page of a short story that I wrote. Remember, this was written before we put a man into orbit or took photos of the earth from space. I'm going to include only the first page because that's the only page that I can find now. I might be able to find the rest of the story somewhere in my house, but then I'd have to type the whole thing into my computer, and that's not gonna happen, But here I am from long ago: 13 years old and already a hack sci-fi writer. This is page one, finally published, though (thankfully) in a place where few will see it. The title of the story was "A Gift of Royalty", for what it's worth.
A thousand miles from the planet Earth a starship blinked into existence, bringing with it a smaller ship. In the smaller ship a man named Rymer turned his face toward the round viewport beside him and watched the starship dwindle as the engine of his ship placed distance between the two vessels. As he gazed upon it, the starship snapped back into nothingness, like a burst soap bubble, and he was alone.
In the warm darkness of his cramped cabin Rymer continued to stare at the space where the starship had been, while his mind braced against the isolation that was already beginning to wash over him. He extended a gloved hand toward a switch and the stars began to rain past the viewport. He let the ship roll slowly until he saw the burning spark called Procyon, and then his mind flashed toward a world spinning about that distant sun. His friends were there, as was his life — not here, he thought, on this strange muddy ball called Earth. The starship would reach that distant world in a few days, but his vessel was not a starship and could never make the journey. He was stranded here until the starship returned and nudged against his tiny craft and gripped it in the field of its generators and tore it out of space to hurtle back with it toward that star eleven light years away.
He touched another switch and Earth rose in the viewport, then stopped huge and motionless to fill all space outside the aperture. Rymer stared with cold dislike at the bright planet, for it had caused him to be here and to chance losing his life in hostile space far from his native world. He stared and frowned, while the bright planet gleamed its warm radiance into his face and onto the cabin wall beyond, and at last he rolled the ship away so that he could no longer see the shining world outside.
His eyes skipped among the dials and gauges glowing reassuringly around him before resting upon a screen that held an image of the world outside. As the ship's flight computer executed maneuvers necessary to wrestle the ship into an earth orbit, Rymer adjusted a grid over the image and turned on his reconnaissance equipment. He consulted charts and aimed his instruments at selected points on the planet below, while a machine tabulated radio emission spectra, infrared sources, atmospheric spectrograms, and a dozen other factors. At the completion of his survey Rymer noted with considerable surprise that he had discovered a radio beacon on the planet's surface. Further investigation was required, and as he programmed a computer landing, Rymer wondered if he was about to step into a trap.
A rocket flared silent flame and the ship banked into the first thin stratum of Earth's atmosphere, slowly steepening its angle of descent until the craft began pushing before it a thundering shock wave that streamed back and away from the ship, carrying off the searing heat generated by ramming through miles of atmosphere. Rymer sat inside his small metal world and looked without thinking at the fiery death beyond the viewport.
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