I'm the type who opens a book and flips through the first pages, looking for the start of the book. If I see the word "prologue", I begin the book there.
How about you?
How about you?
Have you ever skipped a prologue when starting to read a book?
- Thread starter Michael Parks
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You really don't know what you've started, do you?
I do. I just decided to throw a little gasoline on the fire.
You really don't know what you've started, do you?
I ask because I've read differing opinions on the use of a Prologue, but I thought, well, people may not LIKE prologues... but the truth would be in the telling if the majority of people did not skip them.
I mean, honestly, if I have any regard for the author and for the story, any hope of getting into the world the author has created.... I would HAVE TO read the prologue.
Wouldn't that be true of everyone? That's the thought behind the question.
** edit: That and because I have a prologue that works very well as a prologue, and would hate to have to roll it up as chapter one. AND a related question: if (when) asked for the "first three chapter", would it be bad to include the prologue and the first three?
I ask because I've read differing opinions on the use of a Prologue, but I thought, well, people may not LIKE prologues... but the truth would be in the telling if the majority of people did not skip them.
I mean, honestly, if I have any regard for the author and for the story, any hope of getting into the world the author has created.... I would HAVE TO read the prologue.
Wouldn't that be true of everyone? That's the thought behind the question.
** edit: That and because I have a prologue that works very well as a prologue, and would hate to have to roll it up as chapter one. AND a related question: if (when) asked for the "first three chapter", would it be bad to include the prologue and the first three?
No matter how good your prologue may be, I'm not going to read it. I begin reading at Chapter 1. I see no reason to begin reading before that. Why would I care what happened before the book began.
I ask because I've read differing opinions on the use of a Prologue, but I thought, well, people may not LIKE prologues... but the truth would be in the telling if the majority of people did not skip them.
I mean, honestly, if I have any regard for the author and for the story, any hope of getting into the world the author has created.... I would HAVE TO read the prologue.
Wouldn't that be true of everyone? That's the thought behind the question.
** edit: That and because I have a prologue that works very well as a prologue, and would hate to have to roll it up as chapter one. AND a related question: if (when) asked for the "first three chapter", would it be bad to include the prologue and the first three?
Personally, I'll skim the prologue if I'm in the mood. If I can tell in the first chapter that I should have read the prologue, I will. Life of Pi for example...I skipped the author notes then later found myself skimming through them, then reading them completely. I had to - something was missing.
If it's so good, why wouldn't you want to use it as ch 1? And if its not of the same "time" why can't you address it as a reflection or something? I have no problem with Prologues, but I probably wont read it.
Hrm... well, it's short, 2.5 pages. And it just feels right there in the prologue, the precursor scene. But there is no other "reason", per se.
pro·logue /ˈproʊlɔg, -lɒg/ Pronunciation Key - [proh-lawg, -log]
–noun
1. a preliminary discourse; a preface or introductory part of a discourse, poem, or novel.
2. an introductory speech, often in verse, calling attention to the theme of a play.
3. the actor or actress who delivers this.
4. an introductory scene, preceding the first act of a play, opera, etc.
But as you already stated, 'gas on the fire', etc...
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It stinks, but I usually don't read them.
There are a few exceptions, so I do give them a chance, but if they don't 'hook' me pretty fast, then I won't finish them.
I wrote one in my own book but it's just one paragraph that sets the tone for the rest of the book.
There are a few exceptions, so I do give them a chance, but if they don't 'hook' me pretty fast, then I won't finish them.
I wrote one in my own book but it's just one paragraph that sets the tone for the rest of the book.
I don't really like them, but I think it's just good manners to read an author's entire book. It's really not that much to ask, and if a person is that set against reading a prologue, I wonder why they would read the book at all if it's that big of a deal and they're just going to hold the prologue against the author.
I think so.
Here's the prologue and I'll paste the 1st in another post:
........Prologue
........
........The night's stillness revealed nothing of the approaching danger. Across the road, a streetlamp over the Kingston cemetery's gate sputtered out, an unwelcome omen. The hacker let the blinds snap closed and returned to the screen: the encryption program continued processing the files.
........A sound. Back of the house? He thumbed the safety off the 9mm at his side and stepped to the doorway. Intense, he stared down the hall of his flat, listening, nerves raw from the last forty-eight hours.
........Nothing.
........On the screen, the encryption continued. Once it finished, uploading the file to Alcazar would get it beyond his system, at least.
........Back at the desk, he set the pistol down and prepared an encrypted email with his personal key. Trying to compose a quick note became an obstacle. How to convey the unbelievable without sounding insane? Short and to the point, with a link to the file. The content would speak for itself.
........He strode back to the door, pistol in hand.
........"Whoever the hell you people are," he muttered, "word will go out…. people will know." The empty hallway swallowed his words. But would they believe? Turning, he saw his reflection in a wall mirror. Sweat glistened on his brow and upper lip, his hair oily and matted from days without a shower. The glint of fear and fanaticism was expected, as the last of disbelief was gone.
........He jerked to face the hallway. Another noise. A window sliding? The cooling fans from the computer filled the room, masking sounds from elsewhere in the house.
........Seconds coalesced into minutes, fear like fog in the bay of his mind. At the doorway to his den, his pulse measured time. To check out the other rooms might rob him of the chance to send the file, so he stood watch instead. The only comfort imaginable came from the thought of getting the file out. It could be the last thing he ever did, but it would go out. It had to.
........Finally, the progress bar crawled to completion, the encryption done. He immediately began the upload to an obscure web server; he didn't have time to send it to Alcazar, the most secure destination, as it was too slow. Every second counted, now. For the email, the Magistrate system would make tracing his message nearly impossible. All those conscripted servers would randomly relay the mail to its eventual destination.
........Who to? There was only one hacker he trusted, one he knew with the resources and wits to do the right thing with it. GeneralHell. After clicking the send button, he realized he could be mailing out a death sentence. For a brief moment regret lingered - until something much stronger took hold.
........He turned to face the doorway, bringing the pistol up. As if the air pressure had changed, somehow he sensed another presence, maybe more than one. Pain bloomed in his skull, like a headache but modulated, unnatural. Anticipation crumbled into raw fear as every sense began to ache; it hurt to see, to breath, even to stand. Everything flared in pain. Confusion set in, rapidly eroding focus. The truth was dawning, rising to life from the pages of the stolen documents. "Ah shit."
........They could do this.
........He almost missed the tone signaling the upload was complete. Reaching down, he stabbed the power switch, plunging the room into silence. Blood pulsed loudly against his eardrums, accompanied by the pain. The weight of the pistol was a comfort, but now only as a sure means of escape from the hellish crescendo overtaking his body.
........Had he only known, he wouldn't have taken the information, would never have spent those months digging. Looking back, his motives had been naïve. Uncover the truth. Everyone deserves to know the truth.
........Straining from the pain, he spoke quietly to the room. "No one deserves this."
........
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I never skip anything, including the prologue. I've already read a few brilliant prologues, some even better than the rest of the book. To me, a prologue is just another word for chapter.
PS: I love reading forewords in non-fiction books too.
PS: I love reading forewords in non-fiction books too.
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Michael, I would read yours if it was like this. This feels like part of the book, the short opening scene.
The thing that doesn't interest me in a prologue is when they go on too long explaining what I'm about to read, I really just want to get to it. A prologue that I've read recently was from The Shack and I enjoyed reading the entire thing.
The thing that doesn't interest me in a prologue is when they go on too long explaining what I'm about to read, I really just want to get to it. A prologue that I've read recently was from The Shack and I enjoyed reading the entire thing.
1st chapter (disclaimer: this WIP is in first draft mode):
........CHAPTER ONE
........
........You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.
........-Alan Alda, 1936 -, American Actor
........
........
........Intergen Data Center · Folsom, California
........Friday, August 14th - 5:26pm (-8 GMT)
........
........The sun edged across the sky, its light hazed to orange from the Sierra wildfires burning since Tuesday. Viewed through tinted windows, the orb looked like an alien star. Five stories up, the view from the foothills was spectacular; the Sacramento Valley blanketed by trees, shaded for the summer's heat. In the distance, the city skyline sprouted from the valley floor like fence posts. It was another world, so different from Austin's synthetic office. Nature was a peepshow glimpsed between tasks at the computer screen. While grateful for the window, sometimes it felt more of a tease than a perk.
........Friday.
........The project scope document on screen was due before he could leave, but already his mind was out of the office halfway to his car. Murray had set the deadline, which meant due, regardless. It was nearly complete, but a few factors unavailable before this morning had to be considered. The project involved nine companies in seven states served by the Tangerine Farm cluster. The hardware upgrades to the servers would enable the launch of IQ Access, Intergen's highly marketed next-gen data management system. Not a glamorous project by itself, but as a bridge task, it was vital.
........An hour later, the first draft was complete. Murray would approve, but the teams wouldn't: tons of overtime and two lost weekends. He posted it to the project's sitepage for Monday's meeting. Already peeling the office from his psyche, Austin accessed his personal web server and checked a status page. It indicated Kaiya at his house, in the kitchen listening to music.
........He clicked to view the streaming video from the kitchen's webcam. A moment later she appeared, stirring a pot on the stove, swaying to the music. It'd been weeks since she'd cooked dinner for him on a Friday, something she used to do regularly. Once she switched to full-time at her job for the summer, her schedule jammed up, especially with the summer classes at the college. He typed a short message and clicked 'send'. In the kitchen, a bell sounded followed by a synthesized voice that announced, "Hey babe, I'm outta here. Be there in about thirty minutes." Kaiya looked up at the cam and waved with a smile, then formed two rings with her fingers and put them over her eyes like glasses, her sign for "geek".
........Laughing, he logged off, glad the week was over. Only one hurdle remained before real freedom began. The drive home.
........
........
........
........
........
........Austin shook his head, resigning to the madness around him. The only route home, packed with hundreds of commuters using the same two-lane route: failed urban planning. There was nothing to do but idle through the mess, pushing forward a bit at a time.
........Bored with music, he tuned in to a news/talk station. The same story he'd read about online earlier: a CSUS professor gone berserk, killing his estranged wife and two professors at the university before offing himself. Stress from a recent divorce combined with the loss of his job must've sent him skidding over the edge. There was more to it than that but you never heard it in the news. The story behind the story was always too long to gather and tell between commercials.
........Imagining being dumped by Kaiya and then losing his job wasn't pleasant. Without her love, her passion for life, and her sage advice, part of his world would go dark. Even so, breaking up could never be a reason to kill her. His job was a good fit, made so by years of effort and planning. As a middle manager, he was the best candidate for promotion when Murray retired. Being fired now would suck, but at thirty-four years old, he could start over elsewhere.
........Neither of those losses would drive him to blast bullets into anyone. There must have been environmental factors involved: pressures and conditions that could twist an educated, intelligent person to perform such barbaric actions. Perhaps genetic, psychiatric, or emotional problems - or some combination of the three.
........He switched back to music; human frailty and unpredictability not exactly upbeat Friday material. Half an hour later, he turned into his neighborhood. A block from his house, a green LED lit up on the dash. A synthesized voice announced, "Approaching mothership. Secure connection established. Status is alpha-bravo-kilo. Preparing docking systems."
........Translation: the house was secure, with Kaiya present.
........"Time to dock... with my Friday…."
........
........A radio transceiver embedded in the masonry walls surrounding the property detected the radio frequency emitted from the incoming vehicle. A program running on the house computer, 'RanchHand', compared the signal to a list and found it matched the very first one. The gate rolled back, allowing Austin's BMW to pass through. SeeCil, another computer under RanchHand's command, recorded his arrival via one of its cameras.
........As the sedan covered the hundred feet to the garage, a sensor there detected the same frequency. RanchHand raised and lowered the first garage door, with SeeCil logging the video.
........Docking was complete: Austin was home.
........
........ A male voice sounded from a speaker overhead, "Greetings Austin. All systems are satisfactory, and Kaiya is here. There are two voice messages and sixteen personal emails waiting for you. No substantial changes to your stock portfolio today."
........"Thank you, Sam." The artificial intelligence program was another of his creations that wove technology into ordinary life in a dramatic way. As a result, the house seemed intelligent. With his arrival, RanchHand signaled Beethoven, the audio server, to merge the couple's music playlists. A favorite song of his began as he made for the kitchen.
........"Hello gorgeous." He kissed his girlfriend in greeting. "I get you on a Friday?"
........"Yeah, I finally caught up with my schoolwork yesterday and today Ogden let us all off early."
........"Cool."
........"Sooo… I talked with my mom earlier. She really wants us to visit for Christmas."
........Austin rolled his eyes and dropped his keys on the island. "Us? Yeah right. Hmmm…. in a country that doesn't celebrate real Christmas? Where you can't buy a real tree? Uh-huh. Gee, I wonder if she realizes that would mean a flight across the Pacific?" He pulled open a brew from the fridge.
........She smiled. "Oh I'm sure she does."
........"Well screw that. She knows I don't like flying. Just her way of separating us for the holidays, or at the very least making me suffer a sixteen hour flight, twice. Either way, no thanks. She just doesn't like computer geeks."
........"You don't look like a computer geek. If only it was that. She's just not ready to forgive you."
........"Well it's not my fault you wanted to be educated and live in Cali, and live a life of freedom rather than old school Japanese propriety in Hawaii. Nor is it my fault she sold the house and moved back to Japan. She couldn't have made it harder for you to visit."
........"Um, she didn't sell the house."
........"What?!"
........"She told me today." Kaiya went to drain the pot. "Well, she let it slip anyway, she really didn't mean to."
........ "That lying old…." Kaiya's frown stopped him short. "So we could have stayed in Hawaii last visit? In that big beautiful house?"
........A widow of a successful real estate developer, Kaiya's mother disapproved of their relationship solely on the grounds that Kaiya wasn't being exposed to the higher class of male specimens she deserved. Her judgment exceeded every attempt by Austin to convince her of his own 'class', though not necessarily one of high breeding or wealth. He was genuine of heart, emotionally available, and flat out in love with Kaiya. Her mom didn't hate him, but she sure as hell resented him. "If you really loved her, you would release her to men more of her station. Her future is in question with you, no matter your intentions."
........He'd given up, and allowed his natural reactions to form instead. Which meant the old bitch could dream all day, there was no changing his feelings. She could just deal with it.
........"I told her what I thought of her lying like that. Of course she didn't exactly apologize," Kaiya laughed, "but I think we won't have any problem getting the keys for vacation next month."
........Shit! Still hadn't put in for the time off, yet. "Now that would be nice. As long she doesn't show up."
........Kaiya toweled off her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't worry nushi, she won't. And Christmas? I'm not going. I just thought you'd enjoy her latest jab. She can wait until my visit in February. If she misses 'us' that much, she's more than able to fly out here."
........Around a kiss Austin quipped, "She could use her broom."
........"Ouch! Nice one, I'll have to remember that." She went to retrieve plates from the cabinet. "So how was your Friday?"
........He updated her on the TF project, emphasizing the deadline and its impact on his weekends.
........"That doesn't mean Boston, does it?
........"No. I can run it from here. Unless something screws up bad. Which it won't." He slipped off his shoes and kicked them into the family room.
........"So why not subcontract? Spread out the work, get it done faster? Why should you have to be a slave driver and waste all that personal time?"
........"C'mon, you know Murray. He'd expect me to unclog a toilet if it needed doing. Of course, he'd do it himself, so he's no hypocrite. No, we can manage it, but just. I know what Murray's call on this will be."
........"Which is why they'll hire you to replace the miser eventually."
........"With any luck, yeah."
........"Luck? I doubt that will come into play. You're a hottie over there."
........"So all the girls say," he replied with a wink.
........
........
........
........After changing clothes, Austin joined Kaiya for dinner. Throughout the meal, he kept thinking about automated server patching, scripting, staffing and rollback strategies. He reminded himself to pay attention to Kaiya instead. They dined on sesame chicken, fried rice and chow mien and then enjoyed a movie from Max, the movie server. By bedtime, he'd mostly forgotten the day's issues but knocked on the wooden banister twice as they headed upstairs: work sometimes kept him up.
........With a verbal command to RanchHand, a sophisticated set of instructions ran, putting the sensors and cameras around the property into night security mode.
........
........
........
........The digital clock read 1:30. Austin stared at the glowing red dot next to the AM label. Circuit board was faintly visible beside the glowing digits. He traced the circuit paths idly with his eyes. The week had squirmed its way into his brain: chalk one up for work. Stuck between worrying about a firmware failure and the thought of flying to Japan to try and make nice with his future mother in law… there was no fighting it. He slipped out of bed, pulled on some shorts and headed downstairs.
........Built over the garage, the shop was the result of collaboration with his father, the second of two major projects to expand the square footage of the small old house. The first project had provided for the large second-floor master suite and its adjoining deck. The location, a cul-de-sac at the base of a pine-studded hill with nearly an acre of land, had captured his imagination in just the first few glances. Where suburbia met the leading edge of the foothills, Austin had found the perfect starter property. The house was small but sturdy, built in the late fifties, with seven pines surrounding it. What Austin had done with the house since was hardly rustic - rather the opposite… he'd infused it with homespun high tech.
........The lights came up as Austin entered the garage. He punched in the digits at the door to the shop. Climbing the stairs beyond, he commanded RanchHand to enable mode two… a desk was spotlighted, the computer screen came alive and a Red Hot Chili Peppers song began to play. "I like pleasure spiked with pain, and music is my aeroplane - it's - my - aeroplane".
........Padding over to the mini-fridge, he retrieved a beer, cracked it open, and glanced down: the workouts had to resume before his belly ballooned like his dad's. The resemblance was already forming. Fear the genes.
........Standing at the window, he gazed at the stars hugging the hills. At the far end of the field behind his property, headlights flickered through bushes lining the freeway. Nature interposed by man's modern designs. The contrast was lost on him most days, but in the wee hours of a new day, such reflection wasn't unusual. Love of technology couldn't erase his connection with nature, with the mysteries of life. The well of curiosity was still full, though the years had largely capped it and hidden it beneath the layers of career, trodden on by the routine of life. Still, memories of the adventurous days of youth beckoned: the nights spent staring up at the stars, the gatherings of friends testing for psychic abilities, the dream journals, the Ouija board… interspersed amidst the crazy efforts were truly memorable revelations, unexplained results that still lingered as mysteries. Inevitably, the hardness of life had grown over them like coral.
........Reminiscing drew him to a cabinet, to his old incense collection. He lit a stick of sandalwood in tribute to the enigmas of the past. Enough to remember.
........He settled down in front of Grunge, the shop box, and resumed work on an artificial intelligence subroutine. If writing code didn't wear him down, nothing would. While homegrown and fairly limited, his AI felt more "real world" realistic than any out there. Creating a useful AI was more important than creating an all-encompassing intelligence…. many others were already working on that lofty goal. His was handy, realistic, and intelligent to the degree that he needed it to be.
........An hour of coding later, something caught his attention, movement -
........A groggy Kaiya appeared from the dimness, holding an open cell phone out. "You forgot this. It's work."
........His mind was far from the cell phone… Kaiya had come upstairs without dressing. Naked, standing amidst the sterile equipment, she exuded warmth and beauty. Her silky black hair hung down to her full breasts, hiding half her face. Her Amerasian beauty was intoxicating as his eyes embraced her; a thin waist flared to reveal feminine hips and healthy legs with feet tipped in red toenail polish.
........He turned in his chair and pulled her near to engage in a kiss, sliding his hands across and down her back. She responded sleepily but with interest, leaning into his kiss.
........"You are soo segsy," he muttered softly. She pulled back, presenting the phone. Reluctantly, he took it.
........"What's up?"
........ "Sorry for the late call Austin, but I just had some weirdness at router ENTOSR-3. It was a packet storm on the inside, but only lasted ten seconds or so. I'm concerned because it's an edge router and I can't see anything. I'm thinking I may have missed something. Do you mind taking a quick look?"
........Austin mouthed a curse, withdrawing from Kaiya to tap the VPN to the data center's network. Seconds later, he was examining the router in question. After scanning the configuration, the detail jumped out at him: a backup network card on an outside router had been hijacked and activated. Unbelievable: how the hell had Matt missed it?
........"Shit."
........Kaiya kneeled next to him, curious. She asked what was up.
........He muted the phone. "It's all up in the fan, I think. Maybe a hack, we'll see. Sorry, babe. I really want to ravage you, like real bad, but… I gotta do this."
........"S'ok. Go get 'em." She patted his cheek and strolled over to the window he'd looked out earlier. A natural beauty inside a box full of stale, insensate technology. Memory jogged; they were past due for a camping trip out beyond the urban jungle. Soon.
........The morning delivery of data to and from clients nationwide was flowing through the ENTOSR-3 router. Re-routing that flow could cause delays, complications. No data alarms had gone off - so there was still a chance it was an Intergen tech that set up something unauthorized. He intercepted a sampling of the mystery data stream, which revealed the files being transferred were mp3s.
........"Christ. Someone moving around music?"
........He tried to imagine who would be so stupid.
........
........CHAPTER ONE
........
........You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.
........-Alan Alda, 1936 -, American Actor
........
........
........Intergen Data Center · Folsom, California
........Friday, August 14th - 5:26pm (-8 GMT)
........
........The sun edged across the sky, its light hazed to orange from the Sierra wildfires burning since Tuesday. Viewed through tinted windows, the orb looked like an alien star. Five stories up, the view from the foothills was spectacular; the Sacramento Valley blanketed by trees, shaded for the summer's heat. In the distance, the city skyline sprouted from the valley floor like fence posts. It was another world, so different from Austin's synthetic office. Nature was a peepshow glimpsed between tasks at the computer screen. While grateful for the window, sometimes it felt more of a tease than a perk.
........Friday.
........The project scope document on screen was due before he could leave, but already his mind was out of the office halfway to his car. Murray had set the deadline, which meant due, regardless. It was nearly complete, but a few factors unavailable before this morning had to be considered. The project involved nine companies in seven states served by the Tangerine Farm cluster. The hardware upgrades to the servers would enable the launch of IQ Access, Intergen's highly marketed next-gen data management system. Not a glamorous project by itself, but as a bridge task, it was vital.
........An hour later, the first draft was complete. Murray would approve, but the teams wouldn't: tons of overtime and two lost weekends. He posted it to the project's sitepage for Monday's meeting. Already peeling the office from his psyche, Austin accessed his personal web server and checked a status page. It indicated Kaiya at his house, in the kitchen listening to music.
........He clicked to view the streaming video from the kitchen's webcam. A moment later she appeared, stirring a pot on the stove, swaying to the music. It'd been weeks since she'd cooked dinner for him on a Friday, something she used to do regularly. Once she switched to full-time at her job for the summer, her schedule jammed up, especially with the summer classes at the college. He typed a short message and clicked 'send'. In the kitchen, a bell sounded followed by a synthesized voice that announced, "Hey babe, I'm outta here. Be there in about thirty minutes." Kaiya looked up at the cam and waved with a smile, then formed two rings with her fingers and put them over her eyes like glasses, her sign for "geek".
........Laughing, he logged off, glad the week was over. Only one hurdle remained before real freedom began. The drive home.
........
........
o o o o
........
........
........
........Austin shook his head, resigning to the madness around him. The only route home, packed with hundreds of commuters using the same two-lane route: failed urban planning. There was nothing to do but idle through the mess, pushing forward a bit at a time.
........Bored with music, he tuned in to a news/talk station. The same story he'd read about online earlier: a CSUS professor gone berserk, killing his estranged wife and two professors at the university before offing himself. Stress from a recent divorce combined with the loss of his job must've sent him skidding over the edge. There was more to it than that but you never heard it in the news. The story behind the story was always too long to gather and tell between commercials.
........Imagining being dumped by Kaiya and then losing his job wasn't pleasant. Without her love, her passion for life, and her sage advice, part of his world would go dark. Even so, breaking up could never be a reason to kill her. His job was a good fit, made so by years of effort and planning. As a middle manager, he was the best candidate for promotion when Murray retired. Being fired now would suck, but at thirty-four years old, he could start over elsewhere.
........Neither of those losses would drive him to blast bullets into anyone. There must have been environmental factors involved: pressures and conditions that could twist an educated, intelligent person to perform such barbaric actions. Perhaps genetic, psychiatric, or emotional problems - or some combination of the three.
........He switched back to music; human frailty and unpredictability not exactly upbeat Friday material. Half an hour later, he turned into his neighborhood. A block from his house, a green LED lit up on the dash. A synthesized voice announced, "Approaching mothership. Secure connection established. Status is alpha-bravo-kilo. Preparing docking systems."
........Translation: the house was secure, with Kaiya present.
........"Time to dock... with my Friday…."
........
........A radio transceiver embedded in the masonry walls surrounding the property detected the radio frequency emitted from the incoming vehicle. A program running on the house computer, 'RanchHand', compared the signal to a list and found it matched the very first one. The gate rolled back, allowing Austin's BMW to pass through. SeeCil, another computer under RanchHand's command, recorded his arrival via one of its cameras.
........As the sedan covered the hundred feet to the garage, a sensor there detected the same frequency. RanchHand raised and lowered the first garage door, with SeeCil logging the video.
........Docking was complete: Austin was home.
........
........ A male voice sounded from a speaker overhead, "Greetings Austin. All systems are satisfactory, and Kaiya is here. There are two voice messages and sixteen personal emails waiting for you. No substantial changes to your stock portfolio today."
........"Thank you, Sam." The artificial intelligence program was another of his creations that wove technology into ordinary life in a dramatic way. As a result, the house seemed intelligent. With his arrival, RanchHand signaled Beethoven, the audio server, to merge the couple's music playlists. A favorite song of his began as he made for the kitchen.
........"Hello gorgeous." He kissed his girlfriend in greeting. "I get you on a Friday?"
........"Yeah, I finally caught up with my schoolwork yesterday and today Ogden let us all off early."
........"Cool."
........"Sooo… I talked with my mom earlier. She really wants us to visit for Christmas."
........Austin rolled his eyes and dropped his keys on the island. "Us? Yeah right. Hmmm…. in a country that doesn't celebrate real Christmas? Where you can't buy a real tree? Uh-huh. Gee, I wonder if she realizes that would mean a flight across the Pacific?" He pulled open a brew from the fridge.
........She smiled. "Oh I'm sure she does."
........"Well screw that. She knows I don't like flying. Just her way of separating us for the holidays, or at the very least making me suffer a sixteen hour flight, twice. Either way, no thanks. She just doesn't like computer geeks."
........"You don't look like a computer geek. If only it was that. She's just not ready to forgive you."
........"Well it's not my fault you wanted to be educated and live in Cali, and live a life of freedom rather than old school Japanese propriety in Hawaii. Nor is it my fault she sold the house and moved back to Japan. She couldn't have made it harder for you to visit."
........"Um, she didn't sell the house."
........"What?!"
........"She told me today." Kaiya went to drain the pot. "Well, she let it slip anyway, she really didn't mean to."
........ "That lying old…." Kaiya's frown stopped him short. "So we could have stayed in Hawaii last visit? In that big beautiful house?"
........A widow of a successful real estate developer, Kaiya's mother disapproved of their relationship solely on the grounds that Kaiya wasn't being exposed to the higher class of male specimens she deserved. Her judgment exceeded every attempt by Austin to convince her of his own 'class', though not necessarily one of high breeding or wealth. He was genuine of heart, emotionally available, and flat out in love with Kaiya. Her mom didn't hate him, but she sure as hell resented him. "If you really loved her, you would release her to men more of her station. Her future is in question with you, no matter your intentions."
........He'd given up, and allowed his natural reactions to form instead. Which meant the old bitch could dream all day, there was no changing his feelings. She could just deal with it.
........"I told her what I thought of her lying like that. Of course she didn't exactly apologize," Kaiya laughed, "but I think we won't have any problem getting the keys for vacation next month."
........Shit! Still hadn't put in for the time off, yet. "Now that would be nice. As long she doesn't show up."
........Kaiya toweled off her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't worry nushi, she won't. And Christmas? I'm not going. I just thought you'd enjoy her latest jab. She can wait until my visit in February. If she misses 'us' that much, she's more than able to fly out here."
........Around a kiss Austin quipped, "She could use her broom."
........"Ouch! Nice one, I'll have to remember that." She went to retrieve plates from the cabinet. "So how was your Friday?"
........He updated her on the TF project, emphasizing the deadline and its impact on his weekends.
........"That doesn't mean Boston, does it?
........"No. I can run it from here. Unless something screws up bad. Which it won't." He slipped off his shoes and kicked them into the family room.
........"So why not subcontract? Spread out the work, get it done faster? Why should you have to be a slave driver and waste all that personal time?"
........"C'mon, you know Murray. He'd expect me to unclog a toilet if it needed doing. Of course, he'd do it himself, so he's no hypocrite. No, we can manage it, but just. I know what Murray's call on this will be."
........"Which is why they'll hire you to replace the miser eventually."
........"With any luck, yeah."
........"Luck? I doubt that will come into play. You're a hottie over there."
........"So all the girls say," he replied with a wink.
........
........
o o o o
........
........After changing clothes, Austin joined Kaiya for dinner. Throughout the meal, he kept thinking about automated server patching, scripting, staffing and rollback strategies. He reminded himself to pay attention to Kaiya instead. They dined on sesame chicken, fried rice and chow mien and then enjoyed a movie from Max, the movie server. By bedtime, he'd mostly forgotten the day's issues but knocked on the wooden banister twice as they headed upstairs: work sometimes kept him up.
........With a verbal command to RanchHand, a sophisticated set of instructions ran, putting the sensors and cameras around the property into night security mode.
........
........
o o o o
........
........The digital clock read 1:30. Austin stared at the glowing red dot next to the AM label. Circuit board was faintly visible beside the glowing digits. He traced the circuit paths idly with his eyes. The week had squirmed its way into his brain: chalk one up for work. Stuck between worrying about a firmware failure and the thought of flying to Japan to try and make nice with his future mother in law… there was no fighting it. He slipped out of bed, pulled on some shorts and headed downstairs.
........Built over the garage, the shop was the result of collaboration with his father, the second of two major projects to expand the square footage of the small old house. The first project had provided for the large second-floor master suite and its adjoining deck. The location, a cul-de-sac at the base of a pine-studded hill with nearly an acre of land, had captured his imagination in just the first few glances. Where suburbia met the leading edge of the foothills, Austin had found the perfect starter property. The house was small but sturdy, built in the late fifties, with seven pines surrounding it. What Austin had done with the house since was hardly rustic - rather the opposite… he'd infused it with homespun high tech.
........The lights came up as Austin entered the garage. He punched in the digits at the door to the shop. Climbing the stairs beyond, he commanded RanchHand to enable mode two… a desk was spotlighted, the computer screen came alive and a Red Hot Chili Peppers song began to play. "I like pleasure spiked with pain, and music is my aeroplane - it's - my - aeroplane".
........Padding over to the mini-fridge, he retrieved a beer, cracked it open, and glanced down: the workouts had to resume before his belly ballooned like his dad's. The resemblance was already forming. Fear the genes.
........Standing at the window, he gazed at the stars hugging the hills. At the far end of the field behind his property, headlights flickered through bushes lining the freeway. Nature interposed by man's modern designs. The contrast was lost on him most days, but in the wee hours of a new day, such reflection wasn't unusual. Love of technology couldn't erase his connection with nature, with the mysteries of life. The well of curiosity was still full, though the years had largely capped it and hidden it beneath the layers of career, trodden on by the routine of life. Still, memories of the adventurous days of youth beckoned: the nights spent staring up at the stars, the gatherings of friends testing for psychic abilities, the dream journals, the Ouija board… interspersed amidst the crazy efforts were truly memorable revelations, unexplained results that still lingered as mysteries. Inevitably, the hardness of life had grown over them like coral.
........Reminiscing drew him to a cabinet, to his old incense collection. He lit a stick of sandalwood in tribute to the enigmas of the past. Enough to remember.
........He settled down in front of Grunge, the shop box, and resumed work on an artificial intelligence subroutine. If writing code didn't wear him down, nothing would. While homegrown and fairly limited, his AI felt more "real world" realistic than any out there. Creating a useful AI was more important than creating an all-encompassing intelligence…. many others were already working on that lofty goal. His was handy, realistic, and intelligent to the degree that he needed it to be.
........An hour of coding later, something caught his attention, movement -
........A groggy Kaiya appeared from the dimness, holding an open cell phone out. "You forgot this. It's work."
........His mind was far from the cell phone… Kaiya had come upstairs without dressing. Naked, standing amidst the sterile equipment, she exuded warmth and beauty. Her silky black hair hung down to her full breasts, hiding half her face. Her Amerasian beauty was intoxicating as his eyes embraced her; a thin waist flared to reveal feminine hips and healthy legs with feet tipped in red toenail polish.
........He turned in his chair and pulled her near to engage in a kiss, sliding his hands across and down her back. She responded sleepily but with interest, leaning into his kiss.
........"You are soo segsy," he muttered softly. She pulled back, presenting the phone. Reluctantly, he took it.
........"What's up?"
........ "Sorry for the late call Austin, but I just had some weirdness at router ENTOSR-3. It was a packet storm on the inside, but only lasted ten seconds or so. I'm concerned because it's an edge router and I can't see anything. I'm thinking I may have missed something. Do you mind taking a quick look?"
........Austin mouthed a curse, withdrawing from Kaiya to tap the VPN to the data center's network. Seconds later, he was examining the router in question. After scanning the configuration, the detail jumped out at him: a backup network card on an outside router had been hijacked and activated. Unbelievable: how the hell had Matt missed it?
........"Shit."
........Kaiya kneeled next to him, curious. She asked what was up.
........He muted the phone. "It's all up in the fan, I think. Maybe a hack, we'll see. Sorry, babe. I really want to ravage you, like real bad, but… I gotta do this."
........"S'ok. Go get 'em." She patted his cheek and strolled over to the window he'd looked out earlier. A natural beauty inside a box full of stale, insensate technology. Memory jogged; they were past due for a camping trip out beyond the urban jungle. Soon.
........The morning delivery of data to and from clients nationwide was flowing through the ENTOSR-3 router. Re-routing that flow could cause delays, complications. No data alarms had gone off - so there was still a chance it was an Intergen tech that set up something unauthorized. He intercepted a sampling of the mystery data stream, which revealed the files being transferred were mp3s.
........"Christ. Someone moving around music?"
........He tried to imagine who would be so stupid.
........
pro·logue /ˈproʊlɔg, -lɒg/ Pronunciation Key - [proh-lawg, -log]
–noun
1. a preliminary discourse; a preface or introductory part of a discourse, poem, or novel.
2. an introductory speech, often in verse, calling attention to the theme of a play.
3. the actor or actress who delivers this.
4. an introductory scene, preceding the first act of a play, opera, etc.
But as you already stated, 'gas on the fire', etc...
Gas on the fire can be honest gas on the fire. And Wikipedia, or whatever, defintitions don't win the debate. The introduction to the novel is not the novel. A speech that calls attention to the theme of the play, is not the play. See number 4 of your post. I'll start reading at the first act. I see no reason to start before that.
To each his own, of course. I didn't start the thread to defend the prologue, but alas, I appear to have soiled my own thread with such. My apologies.
Thanks, Woodsie. So the question then seems to hover: would it be safer to make it chapter one? Insurance?
No apolgies necessary. To each his own. I wish you good luck with your novel. I am just a reader. Wait for an agent, or a publisher, to express an opinion about your prologue. That's when important decisions will have to be made. Everything else is just theoretical disagreement.
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I read prologues. If I don't like the prologue I won't read the rest of the book. Exceptions include: I'm reading a series and I have to wait a year for the next book to come out.
I read one YA and the premise was awesome. I read the prologue. It was good. I read the first chapter....WTF! WTH! It's the prologue written in a different tense. Exact same wording and everything just a different tense. I returned it to the library.
I read one YA and the premise was awesome. I read the prologue. It was good. I read the first chapter....WTF! WTH! It's the prologue written in a different tense. Exact same wording and everything just a different tense. I returned it to the library.
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I never read prologues. I hate them. (considering the only books I've read lately were written on the XIV, XV and XVI centuries, I don't think anyone can really blame me).
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