Nerd alert!! 🤓 This week I learned that there is no known superstable configuration in Life. I like looking at pretty patterns, but it’s these mathematical-philosophical questions that really get me excited.
Reading about superstability, I found myself wondering whether anything similar could exist in our world — Real Life, not the Game of Life (I always wonder this, sooner or later, whenever I learn about a new and strange property of Life).
On its face, real-life superstability seems impossible. Then I remembered fractons, exotic theoretical crystals with the curious property that they supposedly cannot be moved. I don’t even know what to make of this. I could swear I remember learning in high school physics that all motion is relative to a frame of reference — that if I’m inside a closed elevator which can move perfectly smoothly, there’s no way to tell whether the elevator is at rest, or moving at a constant velocity. (What happens if I build a fracton inside a moving elevator? Will the elevator grind to a halt? I have no idea. It seems like the old saying about the irresistible force and the immovable object).
Right now, fractons are just a theoretical possibility. They may never be synthesized in a lab. Still, I love that they’re even possible at all. I love that our theories of physics can surprise us (black holes were originally nothing more than a surprising and strange solution to the equations of general relativity).
Whenever I think the Game of Life is crazy, I have to remind myself that real life is wayyy crazier.
This is week two of Life Story, which I promise will revert soon to being a newsletter about the process of writing a short story, rather than a collection of ramblings about physics.
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And now, back to our regular scheduled update (a short one this week) —
I spent most of my writing time this week trying out different endings, different sources of conflict, different plots.
I thought Marnie might be unhappy at work (conflict), so I imagined her quitting her job (resolution?). I thought about Marnie’s mother dying (conflict?) and the process of her grieving (resolution). I thought about Marnie searching for her dad, looking for a place to belong. I imagined young Marnie at school, playing the Game of Life with a group of friends (nerds, amirite?!). I thought about a fight, a falling-out with one of these friends.
Interesting scenes, but none that I was excited about — none to help me figure out the arc of the whole story.
Then, sitting up in my bed after helping my elderly father into his bed, I thought about Marnie in her bed. I thought about Marnie on her deathbed. And I started writing. Something clicked right away: I knew almost immediately that having Marnie look back over everything she has experienced in life and Life and try to make sense of how they fit together would help me do the same.
Which brings me back to superstability. As Marnie faces death, she thinks about the way patterns in Life disintegrate, dissolve, and disappear, and she wonders if it could be otherwise -- if Life could be more enduring. It'll be a nice metaphor, I hope, if only I can treat it with a light touch.
That’s all I’ll say for now -- I don’t want to spoil this scene!
Until next week,
Justin