Lost Legacy

This confused mess does not feel like a Robert A. Heinlein novel.

A trio of random Californian academics (hero, love interest and sidekick as per action movie standards) discover psychic powers so they can see with their eyes closed. Cool beans. One of them breaks a leg while hiking and they get rescued by the (literally) immortal Ambrose Bierce who inducts them into a secret society of godlike psychics. They all live on mountains. As newcomers, our heroes' innocence and youthful exuberance gives them the edge they need to take down the society of evil psychics keeping humanity from remembering that they all have psychic powers and could transcend their mortal existence in a week or two if they just squint and grunt hard enough, and by the way Mu and Atlantis were real. So they levitate their way over to Long Island to telekinetically squeeze the devil.

And they all lived happily ever after in another dimension.

Ummm... what the hell, Bob?

Sure, the story dates from 1941, but others from that period still rate as Heinlein's most memorable: The Roads Must Roll, Coventry, If This Goes On-, etc. Lost Legacy on the other hand is somewhat summarily composed, as though its action were a foregone conclusion. It lacks tension or even a sense of wonder at the heroes' newfound divinity. Worst of all is the utterly facile manner in which they acquire their superpowers, in direct contrast to Stranger in a Strange Land's later reinterpretation of psychic training through careful Martian studies and lengthy practice. I have to note that just like By His Bootstraps seemed more of a mix between The Man Who Would Be King and The Time Machine than a Heinlein original feature, Lost Legacy's references to Bierce and Twain and Atlantis make it more of a throwback to 19th century Theosophy and fanciful tales of Lemuria. Hero worship and copycatting did not suit him.

I find myself even more annoyed at the realization that I could probably write something this good bad. To my shame, despite my ability to turn the occasional phrase, my storytelling ability has remained... not any such thing. But even if I can never hope to be as good as the Heinlein of The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress, I might someday (with a lot more studies in Martian linguistics) aspire to match the Heinlein of Waldo. So by way of practice I guess I'll be posting something about a toy car here tomorrow.