Carv's Thinky Blog I'm an author with a focus on satirical science fiction.

O Imagineers!

I've been thinking a lot about theme parks these last few years.

Partly that's because I love them with all my heart and imagination. I grew up in L.A., and Disneyland was a regular part of my childhood. Years later, when I moved back from Illinois, I held a season pass to Universal Studios Hollywood and visited Six Flags Magic Mountain nearly as often. My family calls me "the park Nazi" because I have such definite ideas about the order in which theme park attractions should be visited. (Get there half an hour before the posted opening time, and then run to the most popular rides first. Eat meals at off-hours and go to shows from 1 to 4 p.m. I know it's annoying, but trust me, you'll spend far fewer hours in line. It's worth the hassle.) I also studied theme parks all this year because I knew my wife and I would be spending an expensive honeymoon week in Orlando. We got back two weeks ago, and man, did we have a fabulous time. I really can't say enough about it.

The newest theme park rides in Orlando this fall were Harry Potter's Forbidden Journey at Islands of Adventure and the updated Star Tours at Disney's Hollywood Studios. They're incredible. Here's a look at just part of the line for Harry Potter:

Yes, that's an animatronic Sorting Hat, reminding you to refrain from flash photography. The new Star Tours, meanwhile, consists of 54 possible series of adventures, each in high definition 3-D. It's exciting to watch theme parks adjust to new technology. As Amanda observed, rides built over the next few years will reflect a full generation of innovation beyond these, edging into what sci-fi writers used to call "virtual reality." Now, of course, we just call it "next year."

See, one of the most daunting challenges facing theme park engineers is to give you the same wonderful experience each time you visit, only brand new and right on the cutting edge of technology. Not one of the six parks we visited in Orlando let us down. Perhaps the best surprise was a projection show the Magic Kingdom at Disney World wedges in between the Main Street Electrical Light Parade and Wishes, its nightly fireworks extravaganza. The show is called "Magic, Memories, and You!" and uses sixteen projectors and some serious digital firepower to effectively resurface Cinderella's Castle:

The photos mapped onto the complex surface of the castle were taken earlier that day, then integrated into the display at the last minute. As stunning as the video is, it doesn't hold a candle to seeing it in person. I welled up. What Disney does better than anyone is marry high-tech Imagineering to big, fantastic ideas. As Arthur C. Clarke famously observed, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."

Another reason I've been studying theme parks and theme park design is that novel I'm brewing. Yes, it's still knocking around in my head, even louder since my week in Orlando, and I've resolved to finally get it on by paper by the end of 2012. The novel takes place in a theme park designed specifically for adults of a sexually free-thinking nature. To be honest, I'm surprised such a place doesn't exist somewhere already, as plans for one often appear in the press (usually in Scandinavia). If I don't write the book soon, I'll be competing with reality, and I'll probably lose. I like to call my concept for the novel "Jurassic Park with nookie."

It's hard to sit and write on spec, though, when I could get paid real money instead to solve math problems for Cengage Learning. My technical writing job has eclipsed my writing hobby. There's also still the nagging issue of how a book about sex will be greeted, and what folks will think of me for writing it. I know that shouldn't worry me, but it does. If I wrote a book about a serial killer, I doubt anyone would wonder if I slaughter housewives on weekends. But if write a novel about Western sexuality, most of my readers will assume there's a sex dungeon somewhere in my condo. I'll be held somehow responsible for all my characters' questionable decisions.

Still...that's the book inside me, and eventually, I assure you, it will come out. The chips will have to fall where they may.

Just as Uncle Walt's plans for Disneyland were inspired and informed by his experiences in the movie business, my adventures in theme parks have enriched my skills in theatre directing. I learned from Disneyland that what you see before the ride begins is almost as important as the ride itself. As you can tell from the Sorting Hat video above, Universal has learned from Disney and stepped up its game with regard to queue design over the last few years. Whereas even an attraction as recently designed as Jurassic Park: The Ride once had nothing but occasional misters in its back-and-forth, utilitarian queue, now almost every line at Universal offers some kind of pre-show entertainment to make it feel less exhausting. As readers of my theatre criticism are constantly reminded, I judge a director's work by the lobby displays and house music before the curtain ever opens. It all needs to fit into the same world and get us ready for the ride.

When I was pitching Lightfall to agents a few years ago, the feedback I received most frequently was that it lacked forward momentum. I still believe that assessment to be a bit harsh, but I'm trying to keep it in mind as I ponder my novel to come. If an adult theme park novel isn't paced briskly, I know it'll never sell in this market, to an agent, a publisher, or readers scanning the shelves in Barnes & Noble. That means fun on every page, which means keeping it alive and sexy for three hundred pages and change. It's a tall order, but I think I've learned enough from the Lightfall experience--a hell of a roller coaster in its own right--to make it happen. I'm not through with the fiction game yet, Gentle Reader, and that strange erotic theme park design in my office will not go to waste. I hope you can handle the dynamic ride I plan to take you on when it's finished.