Launch Pad Astronomy Workshop needs your help!

As many of you know, I was privileged to attend Launch  Pad Astronomy Workshop in 2011. This extraordinary workshop, a college course in astronomy offered over the course of a week, was one of the most intense, exhilarating, and inspiring adventures in bringing excellent science to larger audiences through fiction. Now Launch Pad needs your help to make this experience available to more writers, editors, journalists, artists and more.

Launch Pad is an education/public outreach effort, aimed primarily at writers, filmmakers, and other creative professionals.

At its best, science fiction can inspire and teach a wide audience about our universe. At its worst, poorly written fiction can mislead the public. At Launch Pad, we aim to provide our attendees with a weeklong Astronomy 101-level course, including a visit and observations through the University of Wyoming's 2.3-meter telescope.

In previous years, funding for Launch Pad was made possible through grants from NASA and the NSF. Due to funding cutbacks, we are asking for your help to cover our costs and reduce the out of pocket expenses for our attendees.

Eclipse Diary, Part 1: Anticipation and Entitlement

Deborah's attempt to photograph the eclipse

 To begin with, I did not intend to make a journey – a pilgrimage – to see the May 20 annular solar eclipse. The reason is not that I am indifferent to such a spectacle, but that for a long time, I have operated under the principle that if seeing the wonders of the sky – or any other wonders – involves expense or training or any significant break in the daily work routine, then I am not entitled to it. I suspect this attitude – what my husband teasingly refers to as my “poverty consciousness,” stems from being the child of working class parents who came of age in the Great Depression, and who as a young person myself rarely had much disposable income. What I did not understand then, and am coming to understand as I get older, is that life is an adventure to be lived, not scrimped through. Some years back, I had to make a choice between returning to school for training that would take all my time and energy for several years with the end result of earning a modestly comfortable living, or to keep on at my current day job and being able to write. I had to ask myself, what is really important? Being able to buy new clothes instead of picking through thrift stores? Or sailing on my dreams, spinning out the stories that are in me to tell? I picked the dreams, and I have never regretted that choice. It changed me, of course, not just the writing but the very realization that as far as I know, I will only go through this life once. The world and the heavens are full of mysteries and glory, just waiting for me to look.

At Wyoming Infrared Observatory, 2011

Studying astronomy had been somewhere on my list. I call it a “wistful list,” or maybe a “wishful list,” not a “bucket list.” The litany went, Someday when I have time…but Cabrillo College is a 45 minute drive away… but the classes are at night and night-time driving in the mountains is exhausting… but… but…” Then last spring I saw an announcement for Launch Pad Astronomy Workshop, a one-week intensive course for science fiction writers held at University of Wyoming Laramie, created and directed by astronomer/sf writer Mike Brotherton, and funded by NSF. “They’ll never take me,” I thought, “I write fantasy these days.” But it’s just as important for fantasy (and horror, and Romance, and thriller, and mystery writers) to get the science right. So I applied.

They accepted me. I danced around the house, whooping with delight. That summer, I proceeded to get my brains stuffed with amazing facts and ways of looking at the universe; I met fantastic writers and scientists, and shared their passion for exploring – by telescope, space shuttle or imagination – beyond the borders of our home planet. Every day, my mind was filled to overflowing with story ideas and incredibly nifty data; at night, we gazed at the stars for ourselves. If I had not been willing to take that chance, to say, “Hey, what about me?” then I would have missed out on so much.

Fast forward a year, and I see on the astronomy and science websites that I now subscribe to that there will be an annual eclipse of the sun (one in which the occlusion is incomplete, so there remains a “ring of fire” around a dark central shadow), visible not too far away (but too far to drive and then return home easily in the same day). The old “poverty consciousness” voices began their murmuring. Never mind that this is the closest I’d be able to see a solar eclipse from (or that it doesn’t involve staying up until 3 am, another bugaboo that assumes more importance as the decades pass). My neighbor and walking partner said, “I’ve booked a motel room near Lassen so I can go up and see the eclipse, and I’m looking for someone to share the room.”

And the world stopped. 

People Are Sexual, Even In Space

That's a "duh!" statement for most of us, but I've been thinking about this in the context of the lecture on "Sex in Space" at Launch Pad Astronomy Workshop 2011. The discussion went like this, "Have people had sex in space? We don't know. If they have, they aren't telling."

Why not?

Certainly, in the earliest space flights, partnered sex was impossible. (The issue of solo sex is an interesting one, however, but no one's talking about that, either.) Astronauts flew solo or remained in their individual space suits. That's changed. We've had crews of more than one person, even a married couple. The presumption is that at one time or another, two of these people have been sexual with one another. So what's the deal with "they aren't saying"? Is spaceflight supposed to be so serious that people stop having sexual feelings? Or so exhausting that even if they did have those desires, they wouldn't have the energy to do anything about them? Maybe they did, and they told NASA (or whoever), but that information is Classified? For what conceivable purpose (excuse the pun)?

Private Ideas: A Few Thoughts on Misconceptions in Science

At Launch Pad 2011, Professor Jim Verley talked about common misconceptions and how they persist. An example of a widespread and persistent error is the apparent larger size of Moon when seen on the horizon (this is actually an optical illusion, not due to any lensing effect of the atmosphere). The authority of print perpetuates and gives power to written misconceptions.

Where do these notions come from? As children, we quite naturally try to make sense out of the world around use. We form "private ideas" very early. They often present novel and inaccurate explanations for the seasons, phases of moon, the weight of air, or the idea that oxygen is the only component of air. These concepts are very resistant to alteration, even by subsequent education.

More Cosmology: Looking Back in Time

UGC 12158, photo by Hubble/NASA

More strange and wonderful theoretical stuff" As we look backwards in time, the universe gets denser and hotter; we know this from the absorption lines in the background radiation, and it fits with our current theory. The densities of galaxies have also evolved as expected.

In the first seconds after the Big Bang, radiation dominated, then matter dominated with formation of galaxies.

Goodbye, Galaxies

NGC 1097, a barred spiral galaxy, photo by NASA

I've been trying to put together my notes from the cosmology lectures at Launch Pad 2011. It's a bit heavy going, partly because the material is heavily mathematical and theoretical, but also because my poor brains were oozing out of my ears by this time. But here are a few of the more mind-blowing ideas for your delectation:

On a large scale, we live in an expanding universe: the galaxies are moving apart, with velocity proportional to distance. This is the cool part --- the galaxies are not moving through space, nor are the galaxies themselves expanding -- space itself is expanding, carrying the galaxies along!! Gravity within a galaxy holds it together. This does not mean we are at the center of the universe; you have the same impression of space expanding in all directions from any other galaxy as well. In local galaxy clusters, gravity can dominate over this expansion. Recessional velocities are greater than small local motions over large distances.

Launch Pad images

Here we are in class: L to R, Jen Willis and Todd Vandemark in the front row, then Eric James Stone and, behind him, Christopher Rowe and KC Ball.






Vedauwoo Park, volcanic rock formations.

Rest break at Vedauwoo.








 Wildlife on the University of Wyoming campus.

 

At "The Daydreamer," one of our landmarks between the dorms and the Classroom Building (that's really its name!)

 U. Wyoming Geology Museum. Todd Vandemark and friend.

Stan and Joyce Schmidt at Vedauwoo.

Mike Albo and Pembroke Sinclair after the hike.











Dr. Mike Brotherton, astonomy professor, sf writer, and general inspirational genius behind the Launch Pad program.

Sex in Space: Part Three: No Babies, Please

Contraception would be very important in space, because of limited medical resources for pregnancy and potentially hazardous/deadly effects on embryo (such as increased radiation exposures). No method other than sterilization is 100% effective; the effectiveness of oral contraceptive in microgravity is not known. In microgravity, sperm may linger in vaginal tract, as their movement is not dependent upon gravity: transport by muscle contractions, ciliary activity, and the motility of sperm. On the other hand, microgravity and spaceflight by themselves may have contraceptive effects. Menstrual dysfunction is likely due to disturbance in circadian rhythms, intensive exercise, stress. Disturbance of the hypothalamic-pituitary-ovarian axis lead to lack of ovulation or excessive menstrual bleeding. This may include retrograde menstruation, producing endometriosis and infertility. Male fertility: fall in testosterone level and sperm motility, exposure to toxins used in life-support and propellants could reduce sperm counts.

Higher radiation levels can affect both male and female fertility. Sperm cells are the most radiosensitive in human body, resulting in reduced fertility or genetic abnormalities. Sperm cells produced on a 74-day cycle, so levels return to normal after low radiation exposures. Radiation doses needed to destroy all sperm cells are usually fatal. Ovaries lie 5-7 cm below the skin, so some slight shielding. Oocytes more radio-resistant to genetic defects than are sperm cells, but are not replaced if damaged. In women, a radiation exposure of LD50 (enough to produce 50% fatality rate) results in sterilization (destruction of all oocytes and end to estrogen production) but effects of radiation are cumulative. Radiation can cause endometriosis.

Sex in Space: Part Two - Things That Can Go Wrong

Free-floating sex could be physically dangerous, with bodies ricocheting off walls, striking body parts; if "decoupling," partners could go shooting away from one another and colliding with equipment.

Sex in space also entails the risk of penile fracture. Excessive lateral or downward buckling might result in tear in the fibrous outer tissue of the penis. Symptoms include a sharp snapping, cracking or popping sound, excruciating pain, swelling, bleeding, and deformity of the penis. Treatment would be cold compression pressure dressings, splinting, analgesics, and surgery to correct the tear, but it's unlikely because of the lack of proper equipment and surgical expertise.

Sex in Space:Part One: How Do We Manage To Do It?

To begin with, unless we're talking about masturbation, we need access to a partner. Early ventures into space were not conducive to sexual activity. The first human space flights were one man flights. When, in 1963, the first woman cosmonaut went into space, she flew with another man, but she was in one-person capsule and he was in another, and the flight did not include any docking maneuvers. Through the 1970s, crews contained only men until Salyut 7, which was a mixed crew (1982). 1983 Sally Ride, since then mixed crews common, and in 1992, a married couple. Did any of these flights include sex in space? Who knows? There's no official confirmation. Is it possible? Theoretically yes, but difficult: microgravity, effects on physiology, radiation, psychological effects. Read on...

Extrasolar Planets

Stars orbit the center of mass of their systems (not center of star mass); hence, planets can perturb a star's orbit. Stars wobble due to tiny gravitational effects of their planets (meters per second). Look for shifts in the absorption spectra; from the period and size of the shift, we can determine the mass of an object affecting a star. A star's motion can be influenced by multiple planets, but it is still possible to determine their masses and orbits. Detecting these very tiny shifts requires precision technology.

Astrometric technique; we can detect planets by measuring changes in star's position.

Doppler shifts detected in the spectroscopic analysis of 51 Pegasi indirectly revealed a planet with 4 day orbit (50 m/sec). Rapid period means the orbit is small and the planet is close to the star. Discovered 1995. Mass similar to Jupiter but within radius of Mercury. This class of planets are called "hot Jupiters."

Launch Pad Diary: Very Cool Stuff About Planets

Planets are teeny specks in the middle of nothing, separated by vast distances. 8 major planets with nearly circular orbits; Pluto and Eris are smaller and have more elliptical orbits; Pluto-like objects (many!) Eris is larger than Pluto! (Kuiper belt, objects rocky and icy like comets, 1/2 dozen we know about so far.)

Sun comprises 99.9% of solar system's mass, mostly H/He gas; converts 4 million tons of mass into energy each second.

Mercury - metal and rock, large iron core; desolate, cratered with long, tall steep cliffs, very hot/cold 425oC to -170oC Why iron core: During planetary accretion, lighter elements blown off, only heavier elements left. Outer planets - ices solid, grow bigger and more quickly than inner planets. Jupiter orbit = "frost line" for volatile gases being ice (but we are having to re-think the frost line in light of "hot Jupiters" that orbit very close to their stars.)

Launch Pad Diary July 12

Electromagnetic spectrum, light, astronom.ical tools. How we know about the stuff in space - by looking (i.e., using light and by analyzing other radiation). Astronomy is observational and technology-driven; we usually make new discoveries through improved instruments.

Light shares wave-particle duality with electrons and has wavelength, frequency, and speed. Speed is always c (in vacuum) but wavelength and frequency (related) can vary. (Light slows down in other media: atmosphere, water, etc., which changes wavelength, maybe 30%, must be corrected.) Experiments have slowed the speed of light with things like super-cooled cesium to less than speed of sound. Different colors of visible light correspond to different wavelengths.

Red dwarf star same spectrum as filament of incandescent light bulb (temperature about 3000 K). Landscape looks normal, not red. Don't see colors at light intensities either very high or very low.

Launch Pad Diary July 11

The mission of Launch Pad is "to get the science right in sf," increase the signal to noise ratio and reduce misconceptions - Hollywood moguls are next, so movies can get it right, too. Participants include emerging and established writers, fantasy as well as sf. Will know they've done their job when a werewolf novel describes the phases of the moon correctly.

Stan Schmidt says: Everything is outgrowth of astronomy, carried to extremes. Fictitious science is presented within constraints of real science.

Launch Pad Diary July 10

Today was Travel Day, the process of gathering warm bodies from the many corners of the land. Dave made me waffles, sweet man. We trundled off to San Jose Airport, where I discovered that my flight was delayed, albeit not by much. Mike Brotherton says that one year, transport was such a mess, people didn't all arrive until 10 pm and then the dorm keys didn't work. We, however, all made it in at a civilized hour, trekked by van from Denver to Laramie, checked in, and walked up the block to a sort of sports bar/brewput/burger joint named, either appropriately or inappropriately, "The Library." (As in, Mom, I was at the Library until 12 am!)

Launch Pad Diary July 9

Thinking about armature. That's like the skeleton of a sculpture, or the tree you hang the ornaments on. Or the bones of a story; it provides an organizational principle for other things. My knowledge of astronomy is like a collection of those things -- nifty in their own right, but with a tendency to rattle around in my brain like particles driven only by Brownian motion. One of my hopes for this week is that the formal structure of the class will provide something like an armature, not only for the nifty facts I already have, but for those I will learn in the future. Good classes are like that; they pay forward in helping to make sense of my evolving knowledge base. I used to joke that the very little of the factual genetics I learned in 1966 is still valid (well, beyond the existence of DNA and the like), but the way of thinking about it, the sorting out of useful vs digressive questions, how to critically analyze the answers as they come from research, all that remains invaluable.

Back to packing -- mosquito repellent, skin lotion, sunglasses and sunscreen, extra socks, a jacket, sandals for dorm showers... everything one requires to study astronomy. In Wyoming. At altitude. The sun stuff is 'cause we'll get to go on a hiking/geology trip one morning.

Launch Pad Diary July 8

After dithering about whether to post my Launch Pad diary entries here or on my LiveJournal, I've decided (for the moment, anyway) to do both. So here's yesterday's, and today's will go up in a little bit. It occurs to me that by posting every day, I'll have a hope of remembering what day it is (which can be a challenge when one works at home).

July 8. Strictly personal: I'm in a dither -- it's been so long since I've spent a whole day in class -- my mind is telling me I ought to have been reviewing my college physics -- and reading every basic astronomy book I can find --and now it's too late -- omg -- I'm going to be such a slow and stupid person. The only thing I can do is laugh. If I've learned anything in my more-than-a-few decades, it's that we all learn at different rates and in different ways. Ask me a certain type of question and my mind is an instant blank, even though I can recite the answer in my sleep (maybe I should try that as a tactic!) Or, when faced with some utterly intimidating situation, exactly the right words fly out of my mouth. I figure, what the heck, if I'm feeling so insecure and I have a fabulous time, maybe someone else might not let that stop them from applying next year!

The schedule arrived today via email and I'm so geekily stoked, all my performance anxiety has disappeared.
Monday: welcome and stuff, Scales of the Universe; A Scale Solar System; Seasons, Lunar Phases, Misconceptions; Amateur Astronomy; Small Telescope Night (omg squee, as my kids would say)

Launch Pad Diary

.... will be over here, on my LiveJournal. I have no idea why I decided that; it seems like a good idea. You can go there now and read about the schedule and my pre-workshop jitters.

When You Wish Upon A Star - Launch Pad 2011 - Prologue

I've always wanted to take a class in astronomy. I got star-struck at an early age, reading picture books with paintings of views from other planets, of how the solar system formed out of dust, (not to mention dinosaurs, but that's another topic). Of course, back in the 50s, these pictures were not only few and far between but were based on pre-spaceflight observations and a lot of conjecture. But cool they were.

So, life goes on. Neither high school nor college physics satisfies that "amazing cosmos" itch. More life, including a writing career in which I get to make this stuff up, what I don't scrounge from my own pitiful research or pick out of the brains of assorted aerospace engineers, of whom quite a number pass through my world. Somehow, in the back of my mind, lay the thought that someday I'd get a chance to study this properly. With someone who could also answer my questions about specific situations or plot-unfoldments or world designs. Life was not cooperating; the nearest community college is a 45 minute drive each way, I don't do well late at night, and my eyes focus in a somewhat-less-than-spectacularly fashion. Amateur telescopes did not appear to be in my future.

So when I heard about this crash course in college-level astronomy just for science fiction writers, I felt more than a bit envious. I filled out the application, trying not to sound too fangirl squee-ish. Inside, I thought, They'll never pick me. In past years, they've chosen only a dozen or so.