First, and for whatever it may be worth, here’s where things stand at this time. I’m on the final push to finish Power’s Shadow. I’m about three chapters ahead of what’s been posted here, and by my estimation there are less than 10000 words left to complete the rough/first draft. I don’t expect this to take me terribly long, so I’ll probably hit the finish line before these installments catch up to where I am. When that happens the plan is to discontinue the installments in favor of me using the time to get the manuscript in shape to publish. That has to be my priority because of Part Next– Continue reading
Category Archives: real life
Goodbye Old Friend, and Hello
Stumbled across this quote recently, attributed to Martin Tupper: “A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.” It struck me as rather sweet and innocuous, at first, but then I thought about it for a moment and realized something.
It’s complete nonsense.
Well, to be fair, almost complete nonsense. Unless you keep buying new editions every few years, odds are that the cover and words on the page aren’t going to change. You reread an old book that you read years ago, one that has been sitting patiently on your shelf for all those years, and odds are that the book, true enough, has not changed at all.
But there’s a pretty damned good chance that you have.
Take any book off the shelf that you first read years ago, one that moved you profoundly. Something that got you excited to turn the page, kept you reading past your bedtime when there was work/school the next day. Try reading it now and see if your experience is the same today as it was four or five or twenty years ago. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
So how did that go? Continue reading
In Which I Confess My Lack of Love for the Pen
I’m forever without a pen. The ink kind. I almost never seem to be carrying one when I need it. I have read that is simply not acceptable. Writers should always carry pens. What if inspiration suddenly hits? What if you need to make notes on a scene? What if…?
If inspiration really hits, I’ll remember it long enough to get to my keyboard. If I need to make notes about a scene, I make them in my head and likewise remember them long enough to get to a keyboard. If I don’t remember, then they’re better off forgotten if they’re so forgettable in the first place. I’ve made notes before, when I was away from the computer for days on end. Then when I got back I tried to read said notes. Carol looks over my shoulder. “Can you read that?” Me: “No, but I vaguely remember what it was about.”
I do have lousy penmanship, especially when the pen is trying to keep up with what my brain is telling me, and failing miserably. Which may be why I just don’t associate an ink pen or even a pencil with writing and never really have–it was only after I learned how to type that I was able to get serious about writing in the first place. So I don’t feel the need to carry an ink pen around. Which means, of course, that I never have one when I need one. Which is mostly to mark “not at this address” to the letters addressed to the student who had this PO box before I did, has been out of school for, oh, 10 years now, and still has mail being sent to this box.
I know pens are useful. I even know that there are still writers who compose in long hand and couldn’t work any other way. I do know that. I just don’t understand it. When I’m stalled and mulling, a pen is useless, and when I’m on fire, it can’t keep up. Yet I do really like and appreciate a fine pen. They look classy on a desk. Just don’t ask me to write with the darn thing.
RIP Ratstein
On top of everything else we’ve had to deal with lately—there’s more, there always is, and lately a LOT more—we’ve had a rat living behind our dishwasher for the past three months. We’re not entirely sure how it got there—it didn’t come through the attic and down the wall. We strongly suspect it was one brought in by our cats to play with, because they’re both strong hunters but only one knows what to do with prey once it’s caught, and he only goes after smaller mice and lizards. Sheffield is the bigger, better hunter, but he hasn’t a clue what to do after catching prey because, to him, everything is a cat toy, so he brings them in to have some fun. So far we’ve removed three chipmunks, a mouse, and a cardinal from the house, but this one eluded us. This wouldn’t have happened in the old days with the late lamented Valentine. He was a killer. If he caught something, he ate it, and at most we—by which I mean me–would now and again be called upon to clean up the crime scene, but never to capture something he had decided to let go. Valentine wasn’t into catch and release.
I grew up in a small town and lived mostly in old drafty Victorian-era houses. Now and again we had to deal with rats and mice. It came with the territory. There wasn’t a great deal to it—bait a snap-trap, every now and then check and remove the bodies. Reset. Repeat. This rat wasn’t playing. Continue reading
Celebration, Come On!
The last thing I want to do in this joyous season is start an argument, but in order to proceed with what I want to do here, which is wish everyone Happy Holidays, I feel the need to point out that there’s a reason many people say “Happy Holidays” rather than simply “Merry Christmas.” There’s a lot going on this time of year. Let’s break it down a bit:
Chinese New Year
Hannukah
Kwanzaa
Winter Solstice
Yule
New Year’s Day (Western)
Bodhi Day (Buddhist)
Pancha Ganapati (Hindu)
Soyal (Zuni & Hopi)
Hogmanay (Scotland)
Quaid-i-Azam (Pakistan)
HumanLight (Humanist)
Dōngzhì Festival (East Asia)
and yes, Christmas.
And that’s not everything by half. So here’s the thing, and it’s got nothing to do with either being “PC” or any imagined “War on Christmas.” To automatically say “Merry Christmas” to someone whose background and customs you may not know is an example of unexamined priviledge and cultural assumptions that are as likely as not unwarranted, not to mention just plain rude. Sure, I’ll say “Merry Christmas” to family and friends in person, but even then only when I know we’re on the same page, which is not always the case. To say it here, on this blog, when I know darn well that not everyone reading this shares either my background or beliefs is to use the season as a club, not a hug. Sometimes I am a jerk, but I try not to be, and that’s the beginning and end of it.
So Happy Holidays, everyone, because no matter what those holidays are, they should be happy, and that’s what I wish for you all.
Richard Parks 