Sacrifice: The Zombie Within

Oh, the things we give up to do things we truly want to do.  For me, last night it was sleep.  I’m pretty sure this is how a zombie feels just before their insatiable taste for flesh kicks in.  If I was a zombie, I think I’d only eat pretty people.  It’s a heath option, really.  When you go to the market, you don’t typically look for the cut of steak with the most fat and grizzle, do you?

Okay.  Reeling the tangent in.  My focus tends to waver the less sleep I get.  I’ll do my best, but I’m not promising anything.

So what I want is to write.  It’s an addiction I don’t do well without.  My fiction writing diet has been slim as of late, and due to be slimmer after the new year.  And let me tell you.  Writing withdrawals don’t go away.  They amplify with time to the point I want to snarl, kick and bite the people around me.  So for the sake of all my loved ones (who cares about the rest, really), I force the writing out at times that aren’t prime.

The night time is the right time.

I sneak away for a few hours in the evening until everyone at home is tucked away, dreaming of pleasant non-zombie-like things.  Then I come back home, hopefully with a few thousand words or so stored in my laptop.  Some nights I can go directly to bed.  Most nights, like last night, the addiction gets the better of me, and I crack open Harvey (that’s my laptop) and wring out a hundred or more words.

Sure my eyes are sunk in with heavy bags underneath, and my feet drag more than walk, but I got a good fix last night.  This high should last for a bit.  So I’m a zombie with a smile.

Presented with the choice of either being a mean, angry, bite-at-anything-that-moves zombie or a smiling, doddering, kinda-cute-in-a-flesh-decaying-sorta-way zombie.  I’ll ditch the sleep and choose the latter any day.

What do you give up to do the things you really want to do?

Halfway Through [Update]

I’ve finished Forest Mage: Book Two of the Soldier Son Trilogy.  If you’ve missed my original Halfway Through Book Review, check it out here.  I’ve already covered the basics of the book in the previous post.  Here I’ll focus on whether or not the ending earned a payoff.

This is where I’m sitting on the fence.  If this was a stand alone book, the ending does not give a satisfactory payoff.  However, this is not a stand alone book.  It’s the second of three, which leaves me to suggest waiting until you have book three as well and reading them successively.  Of course I say that now before reading book three myself.

Final Verdict

Definitely check out this book if you love the fantasy genre.  However if you’re new to fantasy or to Robin Hobb, you might do yourself a favor and save this one for later down the road.  I don’t believe this is her best work , but not one to just cast off either.

October Chills

It’s that time of year again when the mind drifts to the macabre and interests pique in the paranormal.  That’s right.  Halloween is just around the corner ready to drag your skeletons out of the closet (along with a ghoul or two) and put them on display for everyone to see.

Let’s see what kind of demons I can resurrect from the past to share with you today.  What to choose, what to choose.  There’s just so many.  In that case, I’ll just have to share a little each week throughout this month.

Let’s start with a night I remember many years ago.  Back when the city lights didn’t completely drown out the star-filled night.  A time when trick-or-treating didn’t involve parents tagging along or a curfew if it wasn’t a school night.

I can’t recall exactly what age I was.  I do know I was in grade school, but what grade I couldn’t be sure.  It was a few weeks before Halloween, or at least it felt like a few weeks.  I find my perception of time as a child to be a bit skewed.  My mother had bought special flashlights for my brother and me.  They had extension on them, covered in a Halloween mural of cartoonish cats and witches.  The murals were on a plastic sleeve that could easily be taken off and on.  Without the mural on, the lights resembled air traffic controller wands.  And on this particular clear night, that’s exactly what I was using them for.

Standing in the back of my dad’s little red pick-up, I pretended to guide planes onto the tarmac of our driveway.  My dad was busy in the garage building a cabinet or restoring a chest of drawers.  He didn’t mind me playing out front as long as I didn’t bother him much.  My mom, on the other hand, I left inside without word on where I was to avoid the Night Air talk.  I ask you, what adolescent cares about what the night air will do to you?

The wind barely moved the fronds on the palm trees across the street, and I could clearly see the moon and stars.  And there I was, curling and extending my arms, landing airplane after imaginary airplane between my parent’s cars or onto the front lawn.  I don’t remember how long I stood in the back of the truck before it came over the neighbor’s roof.  I didn’t hear it.  I didn’t see it so much as the stars began to disappear.  In a matter of seconds the night sky blacked out with the exception of a few blinking red and white lights.

I freaked out.  Here I was playing air traffic controller and I actually brought in a real airplane.  I don’t know why the plane didn’t make a sound or how it sort of hovered above the roof tops, but I knew that if my parents found out I called in a plane that landed on our house I would be in serious trouble.  Maybe even grounded from trick-or-treating.  What kid wants that?

I ran into the house and collided with my mother.  She wanted to know where I was; she’d been looking for me for a long time.  I told her I was just out front, but I was ready to be inside for the night.  I wasn’t about to tell her I almost landed a plane on the house.

Looking back on the experience I have more question than answers.  I don’t believe I called in an airplane.  It didn’t act or sound like any airplane I’ve ever seen.  Was it a UFO?  Well, it was an object flying in the sky and I sure as hell couldn’t identify it.  By that standard I would say yes, it was a UFO.  I could not comment, however, on whether or not it was alien in nature.  Although I do have to admit to a few nightmares involving big-headed, bug-eyed creatures long before those images were splashed all over the media.

There is one thing that just recently I’ve began to ponder.  This could entirely be my own overactive imagination at work, but still I’ve been wondering.  When my mom had asked where I had been that night, she said she had looked all over for me and implied that I had been gone for a while.  I could have been laying down when she checked outside.  It’s possible.  My dad was too wrapped up in his project to have seen anything or noticed if I was there or not.  I’ve already mentioned that at that age, I had no real sense of time, so I couldn’t say one way or the other how long I felt I was out there versus how long I actually was out there.

What do you think?

Have you seen anything in the sky you couldn’t explain or accidentally land a plane on your house?  Let me know.  Leave a comment with your thoughts.

Peeking in the Shadows

When most people find out what type of writing I do, they tend to be a little shocked.  I write stories that look more at the darker side of things.  Serial killers led by religious convictions, demon-possessed clergy, and human eating forests are just a small sampling of what I produce.  Where as to meet me you’d find a charming, quick to smile, and loyal family man (and currently with long hair).  Some people are shocked, some smile as they slowly step away, while others bluntly ask, “Why?”

So let me explain.

I believe it’s impossible to appreciate the good things in life without having an understanding, knowledge or even respect for the bad.  They’re a direct contrast of each other.  The birth of a child is a joyous occasions.  The loss of a loved one is grievous.  Independent of each other, both hold emotional value, good or bad.  If the two were to happen in a person’s life relatively close together, the situations become poignant.  The newborn’s first gasp of air in a world that still has yet to unfold, versus the end of a life that regardless of age, feels like it was cut too short.

Shadows are everywhere.  I don’t care how much light you think you can shine, the shadows are there whether you see them or not.  I’m convinced that the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.  Sure there would be fewer shadows, but the ones that remained would be black and ominous.  This is where personal convictions and zealotry lead to genocide and holocaust.  In an attempt to bathe the world in “light”, the darkest parts of our spirit are displayed to the world.

So why not look at it the other way around?  By exploring the darkness of society, I might make the dim light available seem bright.  Maybe make the things we fear more bearable.  I don’t think I’m far off base with this.  As children, studies have shown that nightmares often times help deal with fears in their life.  Then we grow out of it; the nightmares stop or at least become infrequent.  So how do we cope as we grow old?

For me, it’s in the prose.  I face my inner demons on the written page.  And on that playing field, those demons are no match.  I’m not trying to eradicate the dark.  It’s not possible.  I’m going for a better understanding, and with that knowledge I plan on making the other aspects of my life enriched.  I know I live a charmed life.  How else did I end up with so many wonderful people in my life?  I also peek in the shadows to see how bright and blinding my love truly is for them.

So let me ask you.  What’s hiding in your shadows?  How do you cope with them?

FIVE Days of BBAW Give Aways

I know there is only two and a half more days, but I thought you might like to know about this little giveaway.

FIVE Days of BBAW Give Aways.

Halfway Through Book Review

Forest Mage by Robin Hobb

Before we get started, if you’re unsure on how I’m conducting these reviews, please read my privious post.  I would also like to make a small disclaimer.  I am a fan of Robin Hobb’s works.  To some this might make me seemed bias to whatever she rights.  However this also means that I hold her writing to a higher bar.  If she doesn’t live up to previous works, I’ll let you know.

So on with the show.

Forest Mage is the second novel in the Soldier’s Son Trilogy and picks up right where the first book ends.  We follow Nevare, a first year cadet training to be an officer in the King’s Army as dictated by the religious upbringing of the land.  The first son is destined to be heir of the family estates. The second son is to join the King’s Army.  The third son is sent off to become a priest, and so on.  Being the second son of a nobleman, Nevare starts his career as an officer rather than a common soldier.

The book starts not too far off from where the first book ends.  Nevare is granted a month break from lessons to travel back home to attend his older brother’s wedding.  Unlike most plague victims, Nevare has recovered and is now gaining weight to the point of bursting from his uniform.  His unsightly weight gain is change that fuels this installment of the trilogy.

Conflicts range from family disgrace to yearly plague devastation.  Nevare also contends against part of his soul that sympathizes with the Specks, a wild people steeped in magic that are preventing the King’s Road from being built through their forest.  Tension is drawn out on many levels.

Now I’ll tell you that I’m actually more than halfway through the novel at this point.  I would say closer to two-thirds of the way and I have to admit, the progress is slow.  What took Hobb over 400 pages to accomplish, I think any other author would have done in three to five chapters.  All that has happened up until now felt like set up for the main story that is just now starting to unfold.

And I love it.

Hobb’s prose are so delicious, I could revel in them over and over again.  At times they are dense and weighty, but I never feel bogged down or droopy-eyed while reading.  I trust that the author knows what she is doing, and I’m willing to go along for the ride.

Now as I’ve stated before, I will give an update on whether or not a Payoff occurred.  I will make another post with a link back to this one to compare.

If you’ve read the book and have something to add or detract from, feel free to leave a comment.  Please keep in mind though, I’m staying away from spoilers.

And Now For Something Different

I’ve been contemplating trying something new here.  In the past I’ve reviewed some of the books I’ve read for all to see.  I would like to continue that, but feel it’s not anything anyone hasn’t seen before.  Someone reads a book, rants or raves about it, I read the post and more often than not, I don’t read the book.  Here’s why.  Some reviews are just quick one-liners that barely pique my interest if at all, while others go on into such depth that the book becomes no longer worth reading.  So here’s my answer.

S. C. Green’s Halfway Through Book Review (cue the music and fanfare)

In these segments I’ll take a look at a book that I am only halfway through (hence the title).  This ensures several things.  One, I’m still in the thick of the story.  I believe my enjoyment of the novel (or lack thereof) will be easily noticed and conveyed to you the reader.  I’m not one to take notes on a story while I’m reading it.  Why would I?  So by the time I get done with it and eventually get around to posting my thoughts online, much of the details are lost in that infinite void that can be my brain.

Two: By reviewing without finishing the story I cannot ruin the book for anyone.  It’s like my own built in fail-safe.  There’s nothing worse than reading a review with an eye sore ***SPOILER ALERT*** lurking in the text.  Then you make the reader work to read your review.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to work at something that I’m doing for pure enjoyment (with the exception of the Choose Your Own Adventure book series.  I loved those books when I was a kid).  So by writing a review halfway through, I don’t risk any horrible spoilers.  Besides, if the ending of a book is known by the halfway mark, is it really a book you want to read?

Now there is one caveat to this plan of mine.  The Payoff.  Every good book has one, but you don’t know if it’s there unless you read all the way through to those two finalizing words: The End.  Basically, after committing days of your spare time to an author’s work, does the ending satisfy you?  Do you puff up and exhale as if you just embraced a good friend you won’t be seeing for a while?  Get a little misty eyed? (Don’t worry, I won’t tell.)  The Payoff is what you need to not feel cheated, to pick up another book by the same author, maybe a sequel to the one you just read.  If a book doesn’t have one, it shouldn’t have been written.

Here’s my work around.  After writing one of my Halfway Through Book Reviews, I promise to update you on whether or not the Payoff occurred.  For the sake of avoiding spoilers, I will keep it to a short Payoff Status Alert with a link to the original review.  I know this isn’t fool-proof.  It’s entirely possible that a book will captivate me, and I’ll gush to you my ever-loving praise of it.  Then when I close the back cover I find myself saying, “That’s it!?!”  At which point I’ll throw the book across the room.  Yes, it’s true.  I throw books.  But if the book deserves it, dammit…  I digress.

So there you have it.  In the next day or two I will have my first S. C. Green’s Halfway Through Book Review up and ready for your perusal.  Until then feel free to pick up a book un-reviewed.  Some risks were meant to be taken.

Possible Explanation?

I took a look back at some of the things I’ve written over the years.  I’ve covered ogre industry and illegal salvaging to raven-marked cat burglars and agnostic demon hunters.  So it should come to no surprise when I sometimes I wonder, “Where do I come up with this stuff?”

Some of it can be credited to current trends in publishing/television/movies.  I also recall at a young age, my mom sneaking me out in the middle of the night to see movies like Twilight Zone: The Movie and Alien.  Those alone could explain much of what I’m compelled to write today.

Then there’s personal experience.

At times in my life, I’ve seen or heard things that, to this day, still don’t have an easy explanation.  I’ve decided that from time to time I will share these stories.  I will say this, none of these instances have clear resolutions.  They happened, and I don’t know why.  I’m not sure that I need to know either.

The time line of events are a little hard to untangle in my earlier years.  Seeing that there is no build up to some greater event, I don’t think this is an issue.  So here goes…

When I was young and my brother and I used to share a room, my dad asked me to get my brother some socks.  I remember walking into our room and stopping cold.  Someone spoke in a low voice.  I could feel it in my chest as well as hear it, the voice was so low.  Now I’m not sure whether it spoke in a foreign language or if I was too petrified to grasp at what was being said.  Either way I had no idea what he said (I assume it was male with a voice that low).  Eventually I regained my senses enough to run back out of the room and to my dad.  Yammering at a mile a minute, I told my dad what I heard, and like any true dad, he searched the room, in the closet and even the front lawn by the window.

Nothing.

His search turned up nothing but a disobedient son who didn’t get his brother’s socks.

So there you go.  A run-of-the-mill disembodied voice.  I thought it would be best to start with something easy.  I’ll save the really weird stuff for later.  I’ll leave you with two questions:

Where do you think your creative spark comes from?

and,

Do you have any ghostly experiences that have shaped your life?

Thanks for reading and please feel free to comment.

Which End is Up?

Have you ever stopped, took a good look around you, and asked, ”How’d I get here?”

Often lately, I’ve been asking myself that very question.  Please don’t misinterpret that.  I’m happy with my life as it is.  I couldn’t ask for a better family or friends (well I could, but they would quite matter-of-factly inform me that I’m stuck with them, and really I wouldn’t mind).  Though I’m not thrilled about my job, I don’t hate it.  It’ll take time and some luck to change my profession.  Since I consider myself patient and a tad lucky when it counts, I’m willing to stick with it.  And at the risk of sounding egotistical, I beleive I have the talent as well.

That aside, what I do mean is that the path that led me here was so random, I should have been terrified that I made it at all.  There was no road map to guide me where I wanted to go.  In fact it was more like walking around with a blind fold on.  Eventually I did get “the road map” and figured out where I should be heading.  I even successfully removed that blind fold.  Now after years of following that map, I think it might have been upside down the whole time.

The destination hasn’t changed.  I just feel like I’ve been going about it all wrong… at least for the last little bit.  As I’ve mentioned, I finished the first draft of my novel over a year ago now.  Then life happened for awhile forcing me to shelve things for a time.  I didn’t think anything of it.  After all, I wanted to look at things with a fresh eye.  Then a new story idea hit me.  I started work on that.  Read past blog posts for more depth if you like.

While we’re at it, let’s throw in another distraction.  My wife is pregnant.  We’re going to have another baby.  Stop.  Breathe.  I can handle this.  Sure, we planned this, but the reality still has a way of smacking you in the head when you spend too long in the clouds of La-La Land.  Most immediately. where do we put it when it gets here?

There goes the office.

Where does the stuff in the office go?

The shed… hm.

I see opportunity here.  The shed is now being transformed into an Artist’s Haven.  We’re reroofing, insulating, dry walling, and a/c-ing it.  Most of it will go to my wife’s art stuff.  I will claim a wall for my desk and other such writerly things.  A corner will still be used as storage because the shed stuff doesn’t have anywhere else to go.  Now I can get away from the house without leaving home.  I should be far enough away as to loose wireless net access (trust me, this is better for productivity), but close enough where bathroom trips won’t be an issue.

So maybe it’s not so much, “How did I get here,” but, “Where do I go from here?”  This is how I see it.  I can take all of the road blocks and detours to mean one of two things.  One, I should take this as a sign from whatever deity/universe/happenstance that feels the need to intervene/meddle in my life’s affairs to find something else to do.  I’m wasting my time.

Or two, whatever deity/universe/happenstance is just throwing up obsticles to see how badly I want it.  In which case the only true obstacle is yourself and your determination to get what you want.

I’d like to think I’m in the latter camp.  The things that happen in my life that frustrate me, only do so because what I desire lay beyond them.  I should adapt and carry on.

So how do you handle life’s little happenings?  Do you take it as a sign to cease and desist, or lock on and barrel through?  Let me know and thanks for reading.

Just Being

Once again I’m here to poke my head into the hole of the interweb.  I’ve been spending so much time living in the real word, I’ve neglected the virtual one.  That is if you don’t count Facebook.  I spend way too much time there, but I’m cutting back like a good recovering addict, which means I’ll be binging there by this evening.

A quick update on the new novel.  I’ve recently finished the new first chapter of Knight Terrors.  Now I sit and wait for the critique that should happen in a week or two.  Next it’s chapter three that will replace the previous chapter two.  Confused yet?  That’s why I have it all drawn out in one convenient One Note tab.  That can be a handy little program there.  Maybe by the next post I’ll throw down a current word count.

Late this month marked the beginning of the family birthday bash.  My son celebrated his seventh last Tuesday with the party happening tomorrow.  Next is my daughter a week from Monday.  We already gave her her gift, a shiny new Netbook.  My burthday is the following Friday.  Good Friday if you’re keeping track.  I deem it Great Friday because I’m taking the day off and doing whatever the hell I want.  A little over a week from that will be my wife’s birthday.  I think she’s opting to loaf all day without anyone bothering her.  That leaves me to head off any kid queries to help her retain a bubble of solitude.  Those days are the big ones.  I left out all the nieces, nephews, in-laws, and friends that also fall in between.

I’m starting something new.  Wine.  I’ve never cared for it in the past, but I’ve been reintroduced to it.  I want to know more.  Shanalee and I are starting a wine journal as well to chronicle the different wines and foods we try.  I even might use a blog post or two to relate my findings.  To date we’ve tried a Petite Sirah (not sure from where), Barefoot Shiraz, Gnarly Head Merlot, and Robert Mondavi Pinot Noir.  A friend brought over a bottle of wine during this that I liked, but I don’t remember what it was.  So far I enjoyed the Merlot the best and the Shiraz the worst.  In future posts of this nature any recommendations would be gladly welcomed.  It’s been a couple of weeks since our last sampling.  Tonight would be a good night to try the next.  Suggestions?  Right now we’re staying away from the pricey stuff.  I’d hate to put down a lump of money for something I couldn’t stomach.

I’ll have some more news to relate in the near future.  It’s still a little early for me to say.  I know.  I’m a tease.  And if by some slim chance you already know, keep your mouth shut. Otherwise I’ll be forced to rip your tongue out via your rectum.

Wow, I got violent there.  Must have something to do with the story I’m writing.  Yeah, I’ll blame that.

So, till next time, don’t forget to fondle your muse and keep life creative.