"Watching the Space Race: The Ley of Space" is up at Karina Fabian's blog, Rocket Science for the Rest of Us.
24 January 2012: Feast of Bl. Onufry Wasyluk.
Showing posts with label science fiction writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label science fiction writing. Show all posts
"Writing the Alien Alien" up on CWG Blog
"Writing the Alien Alien" is up of the Catholic Writers' Guild Blog.
19 July 2011: Feast of St. Aurea.
Of groupies, fanboys, and...Why do I even bother?
A lot of male authors are supposedly inundated by masses of groupies. Battalions of nubile sweet young things throw themselves at the gods of the keyboard. They walk into a con suite and faster than they can conjugate a verb, they're propositioned in six languages and hues (some of them even of legal age).
To which I say a hardy "Pshaw!" Perhaps it's something about me (please, Lord, don't let it be that!), but mostly what I seem to attract are 30+ year old fanboys smelling of Clearasil and a notable lack of Right Guard or Irish Spring. The first thing out of their mouth is, "Ooh, ooh, I love yer stuff!" (Not a bad beginning of a conversation.) This followed by, "I write, draw, basket weave, greased pole climb--what have you--too!" Line number three ensues, "How do ya break into the business?" (Son, if ever I find out, rest assured, you'll be the 234th to know.) He then launches into a presentation on the GREAT WORK of his life (usually in genre I either have absolutely no experience in or that I hate so much that I break out in purple and green spots). He expounds the entire plot of his six volumes; the main, secondary, and tertiary characters' motivations (including why the protagonist's mother's unthinking actions that particular Christmas all those years ago drive the plot); and how his elves/stardrive/magic system is truly original and how it all keys off his D&D characters. It must be admitted that this young Hugo winner of the future actually is talented--he is able to communicate all of this information as he escorts one down the hall at a walk, at the trot, at the canter, at the gallop--forward!--from the function rooms to, hopefully, a friend's room--never, never let them find your true lair. And as the door is slammed in his face, he asks if he can send the fugitive his manuscript as soon as he has it all written down.
As for the female of the species, the groupie, the closest I've come to attracting them was the rather shop-worn wife of a fellow scribbler who made a pass at me that I put down to either incipient insanity or sunstroke (there was the occasional glint of sunlight between the snow squalls that day). Of course I manfully rejected her advances because it would have been a mortal sin for both of us (adultery); besides, who knew where she had been; and the wife was just out of earshot buffing her gladius--hell nor the Defense Department hath a fury like a ticked-off Irish woman.
The preceding is what soured me on the writers' life and explains why I have done my level best not to become a known author (something at which I have been frighteningly successful).
There now, who sez I can't write fantasy?
One of those conversations:
*ring*
Me: "Hello?"
#1 Son: "Dad, what temperature do you broil a chicken on?"
Me: "Uh, I don't know, how about 'Broil?'"
#1 Son: "Okay. Where do I put it in the oven?"
Me: "Is the stove gas or electric?"
#1 Son: "Electric."
Me: "Okay, put the broiler pan about four to six inches from the top element."
#1 Son: "It won't fit."
Me: "Pardon?"
#1 Son: "The chicken won't let me put it that close."
Me: "Uh, son? Is the chicken cut up?"
#1 Son: "No. Should it be?"
Me: "Yep. Unless you have a rotisserie."
#1 Son: "Okay, thanks, Dad. Bye."
*ring*
#1 Son: "Dad? I can't cut up the chicken."
Me: "I don't suppose it's still frozen?"
#1 Son: "Uh, yeah."
Me: "Okay, do you have a microwave?"
#1 Son: "No, Ted took it with him when he moved to his new place.'
Me: "Okay, put the chicken down in the refrigerator. It should be thawed by this time tomorrow. Do you something else to eat?"
#1 Son: "No, I'll have to go to the store."
Me: "Alright, tip for you--always try to have some hot dogs and buns handy in case something like this happens in the future. Okay?"*
#1 Son: "Yeah. Thanks, Dad. Bye."
I think I know why I'm gray. It ain't the years, it's the having kids.
* Our lady of dragons counseled me that I really should introduce him to that other staff of single life--Ramen Noodles, succor of twenty-somethings the world over.
13 September 2010: Feast of St. Amatus. Belisarius defeats Vandals at Battle of Ad Decimium in North Africa 533 AD, British capture Quebec 1759, Los Ninos Heroes killed defending Chapultepec 1847, Lee's orders found by Federals before Battle of Sharpsburg (Antietam) 1862, second day of Battle of Bloody Ridge (Edson's Ridge) on Guadalcanal 1942, first hard drive-IBM RAMAC 305-introduced 1956.
To which I say a hardy "Pshaw!" Perhaps it's something about me (please, Lord, don't let it be that!), but mostly what I seem to attract are 30+ year old fanboys smelling of Clearasil and a notable lack of Right Guard or Irish Spring. The first thing out of their mouth is, "Ooh, ooh, I love yer stuff!" (Not a bad beginning of a conversation.) This followed by, "I write, draw, basket weave, greased pole climb--what have you--too!" Line number three ensues, "How do ya break into the business?" (Son, if ever I find out, rest assured, you'll be the 234th to know.) He then launches into a presentation on the GREAT WORK of his life (usually in genre I either have absolutely no experience in or that I hate so much that I break out in purple and green spots). He expounds the entire plot of his six volumes; the main, secondary, and tertiary characters' motivations (including why the protagonist's mother's unthinking actions that particular Christmas all those years ago drive the plot); and how his elves/stardrive/magic system is truly original and how it all keys off his D&D characters. It must be admitted that this young Hugo winner of the future actually is talented--he is able to communicate all of this information as he escorts one down the hall at a walk, at the trot, at the canter, at the gallop--forward!--from the function rooms to, hopefully, a friend's room--never, never let them find your true lair. And as the door is slammed in his face, he asks if he can send the fugitive his manuscript as soon as he has it all written down.
As for the female of the species, the groupie, the closest I've come to attracting them was the rather shop-worn wife of a fellow scribbler who made a pass at me that I put down to either incipient insanity or sunstroke (there was the occasional glint of sunlight between the snow squalls that day). Of course I manfully rejected her advances because it would have been a mortal sin for both of us (adultery); besides, who knew where she had been; and the wife was just out of earshot buffing her gladius--hell nor the Defense Department hath a fury like a ticked-off Irish woman.
The preceding is what soured me on the writers' life and explains why I have done my level best not to become a known author (something at which I have been frighteningly successful).
There now, who sez I can't write fantasy?
One of those conversations:
*ring*
Me: "Hello?"
#1 Son: "Dad, what temperature do you broil a chicken on?"
Me: "Uh, I don't know, how about 'Broil?'"
#1 Son: "Okay. Where do I put it in the oven?"
Me: "Is the stove gas or electric?"
#1 Son: "Electric."
Me: "Okay, put the broiler pan about four to six inches from the top element."
#1 Son: "It won't fit."
Me: "Pardon?"
#1 Son: "The chicken won't let me put it that close."
Me: "Uh, son? Is the chicken cut up?"
#1 Son: "No. Should it be?"
Me: "Yep. Unless you have a rotisserie."
#1 Son: "Okay, thanks, Dad. Bye."
*ring*
#1 Son: "Dad? I can't cut up the chicken."
Me: "I don't suppose it's still frozen?"
#1 Son: "Uh, yeah."
Me: "Okay, do you have a microwave?"
#1 Son: "No, Ted took it with him when he moved to his new place.'
Me: "Okay, put the chicken down in the refrigerator. It should be thawed by this time tomorrow. Do you something else to eat?"
#1 Son: "No, I'll have to go to the store."
Me: "Alright, tip for you--always try to have some hot dogs and buns handy in case something like this happens in the future. Okay?"*
#1 Son: "Yeah. Thanks, Dad. Bye."
I think I know why I'm gray. It ain't the years, it's the having kids.
* Our lady of dragons counseled me that I really should introduce him to that other staff of single life--Ramen Noodles, succor of twenty-somethings the world over.
13 September 2010: Feast of St. Amatus. Belisarius defeats Vandals at Battle of Ad Decimium in North Africa 533 AD, British capture Quebec 1759, Los Ninos Heroes killed defending Chapultepec 1847, Lee's orders found by Federals before Battle of Sharpsburg (Antietam) 1862, second day of Battle of Bloody Ridge (Edson's Ridge) on Guadalcanal 1942, first hard drive-IBM RAMAC 305-introduced 1956.
Orders from the boss.
A lot of us are pushed around in this life. Sometimes it's someone who knows how to run our lives better than we do. Sometimes it's someone we invite into our lives. Hmm? No, not wives, husbands, or in-laws--though there have been reports of such things. I mean the ultimate boss, the Boss of bosses. Yep, that fur-covered cat food converter laying on my feet as I type this (Yeah, I know the word should be "lying," but it doesn't sound like my usually fractured syntax. Now shut up and go back to sleep, sir.).
Some of us have these predatory commandos barge in on us in that insidiously lethal form, the kitten on the doorstep. Others of us are stupid enough to actually go out and recruit these mercenaries (make no mistake, cats are mercenaries--dogs are regulars). My follies have covered both.
Dorsey, that handsome guy pictured to the left, hiring on with us was the result of one of my normal lapses in judgment (it must be true because the wife points this out quite often, usually while spoiling said creature). You don't own a cat. Either he owns you or, if you're lucky and have your act together, he hires on with you. Cats are independent cusses and only hang around if they like you, which is probably one of the things that appeals to me (the idea that they hang around only because you feed them tends to be a little doubtful--most seem to be of the opinion that they could do just as well or perhaps better elsewhere and have occasionally proved it).
Actually, our partnership has been a reasonably happy one on both sides. It's pleasant having him holding down the end of the bed and keeping my feet or the wife's head warm in the winter. And, happily, he learned early on in the relationship that bipeds are something to avoid as they stumble through the dark (after seven years, our daughter's black toy poodle is still working on that one). Like myself, he's not a picky eater for pretty much the same reason I'm not--growing up, if you didn't want what was served, you were welcome to go out and kill your own (contrary to popular belief, you generally don't see all that many cat or kid skeletons lying next to full food dishes). As long as the chow crunches and has a picture of a cat on the bag, he's happy. He will mention it occasionally when he thinks the cat pan could use some attention, but, then, I get kind of grumpy when the person before me forgets to put out a new roll of paper too.
So far, his major gripe with us is our lousy control of the weather. If it's very cold or pouring down rain. sleet, or snow, he will look out the front door sourly then stalk to the backdoor. When he sees the the same weather system appears to be also stagnating at that end of our mansion, he gives me a look loudly saying, "Klutz!" and stomps off toward the bed. When I think about it from his point of view, I can understand his opinion. We control the heat and air conditioning in the house; why can't we do the same outside? Robert A. Heinlein reported much the same behavior of his main protagonist in his novel, The Door Into Summer (1956). According to Wikipedia, the title and the book was suggested by a remark Heinlein's wife made about their cat. Now you know why writers put up with cats...or is it the other way around?
13 April 2010. Feast of St. Caradoc of Haroldston. Louis IX of France (St. Louis) is captured in Egypt 1250, Fort Sumter surrenders 1861, Troops of the Raj massacre 379 and wound 1,200 at Amristar 1919, Sidney Poitier wins Best Actor Oscar for "Lilies of the Field" 1963.
Some of us have these predatory commandos barge in on us in that insidiously lethal form, the kitten on the doorstep. Others of us are stupid enough to actually go out and recruit these mercenaries (make no mistake, cats are mercenaries--dogs are regulars). My follies have covered both.
Dorsey, that handsome guy pictured to the left, hiring on with us was the result of one of my normal lapses in judgment (it must be true because the wife points this out quite often, usually while spoiling said creature). You don't own a cat. Either he owns you or, if you're lucky and have your act together, he hires on with you. Cats are independent cusses and only hang around if they like you, which is probably one of the things that appeals to me (the idea that they hang around only because you feed them tends to be a little doubtful--most seem to be of the opinion that they could do just as well or perhaps better elsewhere and have occasionally proved it).
Actually, our partnership has been a reasonably happy one on both sides. It's pleasant having him holding down the end of the bed and keeping my feet or the wife's head warm in the winter. And, happily, he learned early on in the relationship that bipeds are something to avoid as they stumble through the dark (after seven years, our daughter's black toy poodle is still working on that one). Like myself, he's not a picky eater for pretty much the same reason I'm not--growing up, if you didn't want what was served, you were welcome to go out and kill your own (contrary to popular belief, you generally don't see all that many cat or kid skeletons lying next to full food dishes). As long as the chow crunches and has a picture of a cat on the bag, he's happy. He will mention it occasionally when he thinks the cat pan could use some attention, but, then, I get kind of grumpy when the person before me forgets to put out a new roll of paper too.
So far, his major gripe with us is our lousy control of the weather. If it's very cold or pouring down rain. sleet, or snow, he will look out the front door sourly then stalk to the backdoor. When he sees the the same weather system appears to be also stagnating at that end of our mansion, he gives me a look loudly saying, "Klutz!" and stomps off toward the bed. When I think about it from his point of view, I can understand his opinion. We control the heat and air conditioning in the house; why can't we do the same outside? Robert A. Heinlein reported much the same behavior of his main protagonist in his novel, The Door Into Summer (1956). According to Wikipedia, the title and the book was suggested by a remark Heinlein's wife made about their cat. Now you know why writers put up with cats...or is it the other way around?
13 April 2010. Feast of St. Caradoc of Haroldston. Louis IX of France (St. Louis) is captured in Egypt 1250, Fort Sumter surrenders 1861, Troops of the Raj massacre 379 and wound 1,200 at Amristar 1919, Sidney Poitier wins Best Actor Oscar for "Lilies of the Field" 1963.
Something from Someone Rational.
Had surgery on my arm last Friday and since it hurts and I'm in a lousy mood, rather than inflict my spleen on the good folks who trip over this blog, I'm going to cop out and just post the following from some people who, no doubt, are much better company than I am at the moment:
Catholic Writers' Conference Online
For Immediate Release
Catholic Writers Online Conference Provides Authors More Opportunities than Ever!
World Wide Web--In order to get published, writers need several things: knowledge, support and opportunity. The Catholic Writers Conference Online seeks to give writers all of those--for free!
Writers, editors, agents, and other publishing professionals from around the world are gearing up for the third annual Catholic Writers' Conference Online, which will be held February 26-March 5, 2010. Sponsored by the Catholic Writer's Guild, the online conference is free of charge and open to writers of all levels who register before February 15, 2010.
Workshops and live online chats cover the gamut of writing topics from idea generation to marketing a published novel; traditional and self-publishing, article writing and fiction, and much more. "We have sixty subject-matter experts giving their time to teach others--from the fledgling writer learning about plot to the experienced author wanting to better market their works," said co-coordinator Karina Fabian.
In addition, ten prominent publishers (Catholic, Christian and secular) will hear pitches, giving authors an unprecedented opportunity to chat personally despite living hundreds or thousands of miles away.
The CWCO has also added small critique workshops, where writers can get information and advice specific to their writing.
"CWG's goal in creating these conferences is to help Catholic authors get published. In this economy, the online conference provides a great opportunity for Catholic writers to better their skills and jump forward in their writing careers. The cost is nil and the value is priceless. No Catholic writer should miss it," said CWG Vice President Ann Lewis.
Although the conference is offered free of charge, donations are accepted; proceeds will go toward future conferences. To register or for more information, go to: http://www.catholcwritersconference.com/
11 February 2010: Feast of St. Adolf of Osnabruck. Emperor Jimmu founds Japan 660 BC, Massachusetts Gov. Elbridge Gerry invents "gerrymandering" 1812, encyclical Vehementer nos published by Pope Pius X 1905, BBC produces first TV science fiction program - Karel Capek's R.U.R (source of word "robot) 1938.
Catholic Writers' Conference Online
For Immediate Release
Catholic Writers Online Conference Provides Authors More Opportunities than Ever!
World Wide Web--In order to get published, writers need several things: knowledge, support and opportunity. The Catholic Writers Conference Online seeks to give writers all of those--for free!
Writers, editors, agents, and other publishing professionals from around the world are gearing up for the third annual Catholic Writers' Conference Online, which will be held February 26-March 5, 2010. Sponsored by the Catholic Writer's Guild, the online conference is free of charge and open to writers of all levels who register before February 15, 2010.
Workshops and live online chats cover the gamut of writing topics from idea generation to marketing a published novel; traditional and self-publishing, article writing and fiction, and much more. "We have sixty subject-matter experts giving their time to teach others--from the fledgling writer learning about plot to the experienced author wanting to better market their works," said co-coordinator Karina Fabian.
In addition, ten prominent publishers (Catholic, Christian and secular) will hear pitches, giving authors an unprecedented opportunity to chat personally despite living hundreds or thousands of miles away.
The CWCO has also added small critique workshops, where writers can get information and advice specific to their writing.
"CWG's goal in creating these conferences is to help Catholic authors get published. In this economy, the online conference provides a great opportunity for Catholic writers to better their skills and jump forward in their writing careers. The cost is nil and the value is priceless. No Catholic writer should miss it," said CWG Vice President Ann Lewis.
Although the conference is offered free of charge, donations are accepted; proceeds will go toward future conferences. To register or for more information, go to: http://www.catholcwritersconference.com/
11 February 2010: Feast of St. Adolf of Osnabruck. Emperor Jimmu founds Japan 660 BC, Massachusetts Gov. Elbridge Gerry invents "gerrymandering" 1812, encyclical Vehementer nos published by Pope Pius X 1905, BBC produces first TV science fiction program - Karel Capek's R.U.R (source of word "robot) 1938.
"What's in a name?"
"To name something is to own it." This is an old idea from the beginning of time. If you can name something, not only can you describe it, you can possibly control it. This why among people who believe in magic and witchcraft, most have a secret or "spirit" name that is only known to them and a select few.
Naming conventions is something a fiction writer needs to keep in mind when introducing his or her characters to the reader. How people name their children and how those children identify themselves will tell a lot about the culture.
In medieval Europe the rise of family names came from people being known by their occupation, a feature, where they lived ("Miller," "Fuller," "Long," "Short," "Bridges," "London," "Longbottom") or who they were related to ("Watson," "Fitzhugh," "Brothersson [that one I don't think I want to look too closely at]"). As a note, in Iceland four members of a nuclear family can have four different last names such as Rorick Erikson, his wife Feya Jorgansdaughter, and their childern Erik Rorickson and Trondi Roricksdaughter (something that gives an Icelandic phone book a slightly higher page count than War and Peace).
The Romans seemed to have a dearth of names that were fashionable over the millennium their republic and empire lasted. To paraphrase Sam Goldwin, "Every Tom, Dick, and Harry was named Gaius." It seems there were only about eight names used for boys and approximately the same number for girls. This led one barbarian chieftain to remark, "The Romans must be a poor people as they can afford so few names to chose from." With everyone named pretty much the same thing, the Romans had to resort to nicknames and qualifiers such as "the elder/the younger," "Black/florid/tall/short/fat," "The African/Thracian/Iberian," etc (which somewhat puts the lie to "Roman efficiency"). The same sort of thing arose among the men who fought the War Between the States. So many were either named John or something outlandish that, like the Romans, most ended up known more by their nicknames (Ulysses Simpson Grant and John Bell Hood were "Sam" as an example) or used their middle name (William Dorsey Pender was known to his contemporaries and history usually just as Dorsey Pender--one of the uncles on my father's side and our cat of the moment were named "Dorsey" for him). In the movie "Zulu," the fact so many Welshmen were named William Jones is highlighted in the practice in Welsh regiments of using a portion of their service number as a qualifier ("2451 Jones" or "Jones 6325"). We ran into something like this in a medievalist group I belonged to. We had three "Roricks," "Rorick Rorickson," "Rorick the Long," and the luckiest of all, "Rorick Joanna's Husband."
Another name use convention I've found notably within three groups is the first two initials used rather than first and second name. Quite often when you run across such, there is a fair chance that the person (male usually) is either a Russian, an Indian (from the subcontinent rather than Amerindian), or worked for the Norfolk and Western Railway.
If you write crime, keep in mind dang near everybody on the street goes by a nickname. Part of this just a natural human affinity for such and part is because there are a lot of dudes out there you just don't want to know your real name. There's also the "AKA" factor (Also Known As). Multiple aliases are the norm (without such, police files that take up three floors could probably be kept in one file cabinet with a drawer left over for munchies and another for girlie magazines). As one cop said, "Everybody on the street's got a name."
There is also the divide between East and West. In eastern Asia, the family name comes first followed by the given names. In my young and more foolish days, this used to trip me up when doing research on that area. As I have to read in translation, whether the family name came first or last (and Lord help me, I even came across one in which it was sandwiched between two given names) seemed totally at the whim of an editor in either New York or London. Before I wised up, I wasted time looking for information on Saburo Sakai under what I thought was the family name, "Saburo"--which is kind of like trying to look up James Longstreet under "Jimmy (by the way, he went by "Pete")."
For the writer, naming characters gives you a certain power. The name can describe their inner person (Dickens' name picks immediately pops to mind), make them ridiculous ("Major Minor," "Private Means,"), show how life treats them (Joseph Heller's "Major Major Major"), or you can honor someone (my naming of spacecraft such as the survey vessel Alfred L. Wegener or the "Hero" class destroyers Kevin Barry and Todd Beamer). The guys in England who translated Rene Goscinny and Albert Uderzo's French comic "Asterix the Gaul" had a field day with this with folks like the Roman commander, Cumulus Nimbus, the over weight Goth, Hemispheric, the Greek Mercenary, Neverataloss, and the confused Egyptian vacationer, Ptennisnet (personally, I think the Druid's name "Readymix" in the American translation used during the comic's short run in U.S. newspapers was funnier than the Brit "Getafix"). I've noticed that Karina Fabian's elves in her Dragoneye, P.I. series have the same lamentable taste in names as Neverataloss' parents.
One thing a writer should probably have little fear of is coming up with a name that nobody would give their kid. Looking at some names will convince you that either all their taste was in their mouth or they must have hated their offspring. I remember a lady who had to go through life as Rose Thorn--naturally, she married a guy named Bush.
3 February 2010: Feast of St. Liafdag of Jutland. Spain recognizes U.S. 1783, Meiji Emperor enthroned - Tokyo 1867, Earthquake - Hawke's Bay, New Zealand 1931, U.S. Marines and Army capture Kwajalein 1944.
Naming conventions is something a fiction writer needs to keep in mind when introducing his or her characters to the reader. How people name their children and how those children identify themselves will tell a lot about the culture.
In medieval Europe the rise of family names came from people being known by their occupation, a feature, where they lived ("Miller," "Fuller," "Long," "Short," "Bridges," "London," "Longbottom") or who they were related to ("Watson," "Fitzhugh," "Brothersson [that one I don't think I want to look too closely at]"). As a note, in Iceland four members of a nuclear family can have four different last names such as Rorick Erikson, his wife Feya Jorgansdaughter, and their childern Erik Rorickson and Trondi Roricksdaughter (something that gives an Icelandic phone book a slightly higher page count than War and Peace).
The Romans seemed to have a dearth of names that were fashionable over the millennium their republic and empire lasted. To paraphrase Sam Goldwin, "Every Tom, Dick, and Harry was named Gaius." It seems there were only about eight names used for boys and approximately the same number for girls. This led one barbarian chieftain to remark, "The Romans must be a poor people as they can afford so few names to chose from." With everyone named pretty much the same thing, the Romans had to resort to nicknames and qualifiers such as "the elder/the younger," "Black/florid/tall/short/fat," "The African/Thracian/Iberian," etc (which somewhat puts the lie to "Roman efficiency"). The same sort of thing arose among the men who fought the War Between the States. So many were either named John or something outlandish that, like the Romans, most ended up known more by their nicknames (Ulysses Simpson Grant and John Bell Hood were "Sam" as an example) or used their middle name (William Dorsey Pender was known to his contemporaries and history usually just as Dorsey Pender--one of the uncles on my father's side and our cat of the moment were named "Dorsey" for him). In the movie "Zulu," the fact so many Welshmen were named William Jones is highlighted in the practice in Welsh regiments of using a portion of their service number as a qualifier ("2451 Jones" or "Jones 6325"). We ran into something like this in a medievalist group I belonged to. We had three "Roricks," "Rorick Rorickson," "Rorick the Long," and the luckiest of all, "Rorick Joanna's Husband."
Another name use convention I've found notably within three groups is the first two initials used rather than first and second name. Quite often when you run across such, there is a fair chance that the person (male usually) is either a Russian, an Indian (from the subcontinent rather than Amerindian), or worked for the Norfolk and Western Railway.
If you write crime, keep in mind dang near everybody on the street goes by a nickname. Part of this just a natural human affinity for such and part is because there are a lot of dudes out there you just don't want to know your real name. There's also the "AKA" factor (Also Known As). Multiple aliases are the norm (without such, police files that take up three floors could probably be kept in one file cabinet with a drawer left over for munchies and another for girlie magazines). As one cop said, "Everybody on the street's got a name."
There is also the divide between East and West. In eastern Asia, the family name comes first followed by the given names. In my young and more foolish days, this used to trip me up when doing research on that area. As I have to read in translation, whether the family name came first or last (and Lord help me, I even came across one in which it was sandwiched between two given names) seemed totally at the whim of an editor in either New York or London. Before I wised up, I wasted time looking for information on Saburo Sakai under what I thought was the family name, "Saburo"--which is kind of like trying to look up James Longstreet under "Jimmy (by the way, he went by "Pete")."
For the writer, naming characters gives you a certain power. The name can describe their inner person (Dickens' name picks immediately pops to mind), make them ridiculous ("Major Minor," "Private Means,"), show how life treats them (Joseph Heller's "Major Major Major"), or you can honor someone (my naming of spacecraft such as the survey vessel Alfred L. Wegener or the "Hero" class destroyers Kevin Barry and Todd Beamer). The guys in England who translated Rene Goscinny and Albert Uderzo's French comic "Asterix the Gaul" had a field day with this with folks like the Roman commander, Cumulus Nimbus, the over weight Goth, Hemispheric, the Greek Mercenary, Neverataloss, and the confused Egyptian vacationer, Ptennisnet (personally, I think the Druid's name "Readymix" in the American translation used during the comic's short run in U.S. newspapers was funnier than the Brit "Getafix"). I've noticed that Karina Fabian's elves in her Dragoneye, P.I. series have the same lamentable taste in names as Neverataloss' parents.
One thing a writer should probably have little fear of is coming up with a name that nobody would give their kid. Looking at some names will convince you that either all their taste was in their mouth or they must have hated their offspring. I remember a lady who had to go through life as Rose Thorn--naturally, she married a guy named Bush.
3 February 2010: Feast of St. Liafdag of Jutland. Spain recognizes U.S. 1783, Meiji Emperor enthroned - Tokyo 1867, Earthquake - Hawke's Bay, New Zealand 1931, U.S. Marines and Army capture Kwajalein 1944.
"New Hire"
This is what will probably be piece of a story I'll be working on in the future. It comes from an assignment I did for a workshop at the Muse Online 2009 writers' conference.
New Hire
O'Tool's bad leg ached with the morning fog. It was times like this he hated the plantation. He hated even more the thought of sitting behind the huge desk.
Wesa Ryan held out the first of many cups of tea the director would drink over the next twelve hours. The tall man nodded his thanks to the matronly secretary and limped into his office. His Assistant for Procurement, Mac, sat in a chair in front of O'Tool's desk with a reader. He popped to his feet with far more agility than was proper for a man of his gray hair. "Good morning, Colonel."
"Morning, Gunny." O'Tool placed his palm against the lock plate of his desk. The various systems embedded within its Bayern mahogany came to life as he seated himself. His glance swept the readouts and the holos hanging behind the gunny--nothing immediate required his attention. He leaned back in his high-backed chair and smiled up at Mac as the other waited at parade rest. "Well, Gunny, what have you got for me?"
The heavyset man returned the smile. "I've got a peach, sir."
"Oh? How so?"
Mac's smile widened to a grin. "He's the little man who wasn't there. You know, sir, the sort that disappears while you're looking straight at him."
O'Tool steepled his fingers. "Interesting. Does this paragon of invisibility have a name?"
"Sean Murphy, sir."
The director inclined his head as he mused, "A nondescript name for a nondescript person." He paused a moment, then asked, "Where did you find him?"
The older man pressed a button on the reader to link with his superior's system as he answered, "On Tara, sir. Doing his Imperial service in the Coast Guard."
"How did he come to your attention?"
"He was caught sneaking some equipment out of Marine Headquarters."
O'Tool squinted an eye at the other. "If he was caught, why are we interested in him?"
Mac chuckled. "It was his twenty-fourth trip, sir. Apparently, he and his mates were living a very high lifestyle. As I understand it, a case of the Commandant's scotch had vanished a couple of weeks before."
"And where is he now?"
Mac's grin was at full strength as he answered, "Outside sitting next to Mrs. Ryan's desk. You walked by him."
O'Tool looked at his assistant sharply. He realized he had only been aware of his secretary's presence in the outer office. He was a bit taken aback that he must have looked at Murphy without it registering. The director found it daunting as he considered himself a very observant man. He cleared his throat and smiled at Mac. "Alright, Gunny, please show Mr. Murphy in if you can find him."
Mac ushered in a small colorless man. It occurred to O'Tool that the man, with slight changes to his hair and skin, could be from practically anywhere in known space. With a little work around the eyes, he might even pass as Yamoto or Xenese.
The director stepped around his desk as much to have a closer look as to shake hands. "Mr. Murphy?"
Murphy's grasp was neither soft nor hard. He smiled slightly. "Sir?"
"Have a seat, Mr. Murphy. Do you know what we do here? What are your impressions?"
Murphy replied, "Well, sir, the sign at the road said this was a recycling center. I assume the materials recycled are rather valuable considering the reinforced guard shack and the two bunkers sited in the edge of the forest covering it."
O'Tool regarded him with growing respect. "You noticed them, did you?"
Murphy nodded. "Yes, sir. I saw a man moving through the trees suddenly disappear. That gave me one. I figured if there was one, there mostly likely was a second on the other side of the road."
The director shot a look at Mac. The elderly man had that expression that promised someone over at security a fanny-wapping.
Murphy continued, "I also found interesting the faint sound of small arms fire to the north and the scent of burning vehicles on the breeze from the east."
"What exactly did you do in the Coast Guard, Mr. Murphy?"
"Contraband search, sir. I was aboard the Point Comfort."
O'Tool nodded. "You were a 'ferret.'"
There was neither pride nor shame as he answered matter-of-factly, "Yes, sir, I was the boarding party's 'ferret.'"
O'Tool was unable to place Murphy's accent. "Tell me, Mr. Murphy, what planet did you grow up on?"
"Actually, sir, we moved around a lot."
The director raised an eyebrow. "Military?"
Murphy shook his head. "No, sir. My daddy was in construction."
O'Tool was struck by Murphy's choice of words; not his "father" or "papa" or "da"--but his "daddy." He decided he looked forward to reading the background file on Mr. Murphy. He turned to to Mac. "Gunny, please escort Mr. Murphy to intake and start his processing."
He drained his cup of its tea and buzzed for a second as his door closed. Pulling the right lower drawer out, O'Tool eased his leg onto it and absent-mindedly cursed the Xenese sniper for the umpteenth time. He settled back and called up Murphy's dossier with a feeling of satisfaction.
29 December 2009: Feast of St. Thomas Becket, USS Constitution takes HMS Java off Brazil 1812, Texas statehood 1845, Irish Free State becomes Ireland 1937, Vaclav Havel first president of Czechoslovakia after Warsaw Pact collapse 1989.
New Hire
O'Tool's bad leg ached with the morning fog. It was times like this he hated the plantation. He hated even more the thought of sitting behind the huge desk.
Wesa Ryan held out the first of many cups of tea the director would drink over the next twelve hours. The tall man nodded his thanks to the matronly secretary and limped into his office. His Assistant for Procurement, Mac, sat in a chair in front of O'Tool's desk with a reader. He popped to his feet with far more agility than was proper for a man of his gray hair. "Good morning, Colonel."
"Morning, Gunny." O'Tool placed his palm against the lock plate of his desk. The various systems embedded within its Bayern mahogany came to life as he seated himself. His glance swept the readouts and the holos hanging behind the gunny--nothing immediate required his attention. He leaned back in his high-backed chair and smiled up at Mac as the other waited at parade rest. "Well, Gunny, what have you got for me?"
The heavyset man returned the smile. "I've got a peach, sir."
"Oh? How so?"
Mac's smile widened to a grin. "He's the little man who wasn't there. You know, sir, the sort that disappears while you're looking straight at him."
O'Tool steepled his fingers. "Interesting. Does this paragon of invisibility have a name?"
"Sean Murphy, sir."
The director inclined his head as he mused, "A nondescript name for a nondescript person." He paused a moment, then asked, "Where did you find him?"
The older man pressed a button on the reader to link with his superior's system as he answered, "On Tara, sir. Doing his Imperial service in the Coast Guard."
"How did he come to your attention?"
"He was caught sneaking some equipment out of Marine Headquarters."
O'Tool squinted an eye at the other. "If he was caught, why are we interested in him?"
Mac chuckled. "It was his twenty-fourth trip, sir. Apparently, he and his mates were living a very high lifestyle. As I understand it, a case of the Commandant's scotch had vanished a couple of weeks before."
"And where is he now?"
Mac's grin was at full strength as he answered, "Outside sitting next to Mrs. Ryan's desk. You walked by him."
O'Tool looked at his assistant sharply. He realized he had only been aware of his secretary's presence in the outer office. He was a bit taken aback that he must have looked at Murphy without it registering. The director found it daunting as he considered himself a very observant man. He cleared his throat and smiled at Mac. "Alright, Gunny, please show Mr. Murphy in if you can find him."
Mac ushered in a small colorless man. It occurred to O'Tool that the man, with slight changes to his hair and skin, could be from practically anywhere in known space. With a little work around the eyes, he might even pass as Yamoto or Xenese.
The director stepped around his desk as much to have a closer look as to shake hands. "Mr. Murphy?"
Murphy's grasp was neither soft nor hard. He smiled slightly. "Sir?"
"Have a seat, Mr. Murphy. Do you know what we do here? What are your impressions?"
Murphy replied, "Well, sir, the sign at the road said this was a recycling center. I assume the materials recycled are rather valuable considering the reinforced guard shack and the two bunkers sited in the edge of the forest covering it."
O'Tool regarded him with growing respect. "You noticed them, did you?"
Murphy nodded. "Yes, sir. I saw a man moving through the trees suddenly disappear. That gave me one. I figured if there was one, there mostly likely was a second on the other side of the road."
The director shot a look at Mac. The elderly man had that expression that promised someone over at security a fanny-wapping.
Murphy continued, "I also found interesting the faint sound of small arms fire to the north and the scent of burning vehicles on the breeze from the east."
"What exactly did you do in the Coast Guard, Mr. Murphy?"
"Contraband search, sir. I was aboard the Point Comfort."
O'Tool nodded. "You were a 'ferret.'"
There was neither pride nor shame as he answered matter-of-factly, "Yes, sir, I was the boarding party's 'ferret.'"
O'Tool was unable to place Murphy's accent. "Tell me, Mr. Murphy, what planet did you grow up on?"
"Actually, sir, we moved around a lot."
The director raised an eyebrow. "Military?"
Murphy shook his head. "No, sir. My daddy was in construction."
O'Tool was struck by Murphy's choice of words; not his "father" or "papa" or "da"--but his "daddy." He decided he looked forward to reading the background file on Mr. Murphy. He turned to to Mac. "Gunny, please escort Mr. Murphy to intake and start his processing."
He drained his cup of its tea and buzzed for a second as his door closed. Pulling the right lower drawer out, O'Tool eased his leg onto it and absent-mindedly cursed the Xenese sniper for the umpteenth time. He settled back and called up Murphy's dossier with a feeling of satisfaction.
29 December 2009: Feast of St. Thomas Becket, USS Constitution takes HMS Java off Brazil 1812, Texas statehood 1845, Irish Free State becomes Ireland 1937, Vaclav Havel first president of Czechoslovakia after Warsaw Pact collapse 1989.
On Dating in the Empire and the Writer's Predictability Habit
Marine Corps Schools
Apergis Barracks
Wexford--Tara
Dear Tango,
Dating is a problem in the Empire and throughout known space. As you can see in lesson 2, no one has a good handle on how much time has passed since man first left Earth and the present. It is known that this took place in the 21st century by Earth reckoning. But, along with the loss of the location of Earth amidst "The Collapse," no one can agree how many years have passed since.
Each culture keeps its own calendar and counts time from a different point. In the Imperial Forces, dating is set by Tara, but each man and woman is allowed to add the date according to their people. This is a small consideration, but it brings home to us that, while we are servants of the Empire, the Empire is made up of our peoples.
As an example (let me call up the calendar), the date here at Apergis Barracks is 349 I.D./532 B.D. This stands for the two-hundred-and-forty-ninth year since the founding of the Empire (Imperial date) and the five-hundred-and thirty-second year since Royal dating began on Bayern with the ascension of Erwin I as King of all the Bayern at the Battle of the Mead Meadow. Now for my bunkie, Ikati, it's 349 I.D/221 Z.D. Bantu when they came into the Empire had a small problem. "B.D." was already taken by the Bayern. It was agreed in council that Bantu would use "Z.D."--Zulu Date. Ikati has remarked that it might have been simpler to blow up Bayern. I'm not sure how they set their date, I'll ask him. He says, "The Bantu date from the "Washing of the Spears" at Hondehok Knop and to please leave [him] the [Hades] alone, he's having enough trouble concentrating on a logistics assignment without answering my [dang] fool questions!" Me thinks we will have to take a break and frog-march said gentleman over to the geedunk shop. Sounds like his Dr. Pepper levels have dropped to a dangerous point.
I hope I've helped you understand the dating problem. Rest assured, it confuses us quite regularly and we live with it!
Walt
The Writer's Predictability Habit
There are a number of writers I love to read for their characterization and "McGuffins," but, Lordy, the way their plot sequence runs drives me up the wall. Mostly, these are mystery writers. After a couple of their series books, I know for a fact that the hero will get his lights punched out at the top of page 78. How do I know this? Am I a seer, a prophet (looking at my bank balance, it's cinch profit ain't involved)? Nope. The author had his/her/its hero get his lights punched out at the same place in the last four volumes. (I'm not sure why, but this seems to only happen to male protagonists.) After a while, one starts to get the suspicion that the author is using an algorithm to churn these things out--basically just filling in the blanks for "villain," "place," and "love interest" and hitting "run" (or "enter" if you wish).
I can immediately think of four writers who do this. It doesn't seem to matter whether the author is male of female (that's going by the names--which really doesn't mean a dang thing), their guy suddenly gets punched in the jaw or stomach or hit over the head (oddly, never in the 'goodies"--that would really take him out!) at the top of page 78. He wakes up sometime later and the whatzit is gone. Even though he has a concussion, he immediately pitches back into the investigation with only a sore whatever. Humphrey Bogart could do this in "The Maltese Falcon" and "Across the Pacific" but you got the idea he was one tough hombre and, even then, he wasn't hitting on a couple of cylinders for a while.
One of the things that made Tony Hillerman, Agatha Christie, G.K. Chesterton, and Dorthy Sayers great was you never saw it coming.
As a writer, we should at least try to mix it up a bit. I realize a lot of mainstream publishers don't seem to care about repetition at the moment, but you should. If nothing else, it shows you respect your readers.
Okay, end of sermon. Now, who brought the popcorn and potato chips?
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
Walt Disney's Classic Cartoon Favorites volume 9: Classic Holiday Stories. Disney. 58 minutes.
Just when you're up to your fanny in plastic Santas, reindeer, and Sugar Plum Fairies, a cartoon shows up about the "reason for the season." (No, not a solar-powered bun warmer for Aunt Myrtle!--who let this clown in? I told you we need to get that screen door fixed.) In this case, the cartoon is Disney's "The Small One." This is the story of a boy and the donkey who carried the Virgin to Bethlehem--and I absolutely refuse to mist-up over it, do you hear? Blast! Where did I put those tissues?
Ahem. Also on the DVD is "Pluto's Christmas Tree" and "Mickey's Christmas Carol." The first is one of the best Pluto cartoons (Chip and Dale don't hurt) and the second is fun, though Uncle Scrooge does lack a bit of George C. Scott's depth.
22 December 2009: Feast of St. Zeno, Winter Solstice, Savannah captured by Gen. Sherman 1864, Gen. McAuliffe in Bastogne tells surrounding Germans "Nuts!" 1944, first flight of Lockheed "Skunk Works" SR-71 Blackbird 1964, Brandenburg Gate reopens in Berlin 1989.
Apergis Barracks
Wexford--Tara
Dear Tango,
Dating is a problem in the Empire and throughout known space. As you can see in lesson 2, no one has a good handle on how much time has passed since man first left Earth and the present. It is known that this took place in the 21st century by Earth reckoning. But, along with the loss of the location of Earth amidst "The Collapse," no one can agree how many years have passed since.
Each culture keeps its own calendar and counts time from a different point. In the Imperial Forces, dating is set by Tara, but each man and woman is allowed to add the date according to their people. This is a small consideration, but it brings home to us that, while we are servants of the Empire, the Empire is made up of our peoples.
As an example (let me call up the calendar), the date here at Apergis Barracks is 349 I.D./532 B.D. This stands for the two-hundred-and-forty-ninth year since the founding of the Empire (Imperial date) and the five-hundred-and thirty-second year since Royal dating began on Bayern with the ascension of Erwin I as King of all the Bayern at the Battle of the Mead Meadow. Now for my bunkie, Ikati, it's 349 I.D/221 Z.D. Bantu when they came into the Empire had a small problem. "B.D." was already taken by the Bayern. It was agreed in council that Bantu would use "Z.D."--Zulu Date. Ikati has remarked that it might have been simpler to blow up Bayern. I'm not sure how they set their date, I'll ask him. He says, "The Bantu date from the "Washing of the Spears" at Hondehok Knop and to please leave [him] the [Hades] alone, he's having enough trouble concentrating on a logistics assignment without answering my [dang] fool questions!" Me thinks we will have to take a break and frog-march said gentleman over to the geedunk shop. Sounds like his Dr. Pepper levels have dropped to a dangerous point.
I hope I've helped you understand the dating problem. Rest assured, it confuses us quite regularly and we live with it!
Walt
The Writer's Predictability Habit
There are a number of writers I love to read for their characterization and "McGuffins," but, Lordy, the way their plot sequence runs drives me up the wall. Mostly, these are mystery writers. After a couple of their series books, I know for a fact that the hero will get his lights punched out at the top of page 78. How do I know this? Am I a seer, a prophet (looking at my bank balance, it's cinch profit ain't involved)? Nope. The author had his/her/its hero get his lights punched out at the same place in the last four volumes. (I'm not sure why, but this seems to only happen to male protagonists.) After a while, one starts to get the suspicion that the author is using an algorithm to churn these things out--basically just filling in the blanks for "villain," "place," and "love interest" and hitting "run" (or "enter" if you wish).
I can immediately think of four writers who do this. It doesn't seem to matter whether the author is male of female (that's going by the names--which really doesn't mean a dang thing), their guy suddenly gets punched in the jaw or stomach or hit over the head (oddly, never in the 'goodies"--that would really take him out!) at the top of page 78. He wakes up sometime later and the whatzit is gone. Even though he has a concussion, he immediately pitches back into the investigation with only a sore whatever. Humphrey Bogart could do this in "The Maltese Falcon" and "Across the Pacific" but you got the idea he was one tough hombre and, even then, he wasn't hitting on a couple of cylinders for a while.
One of the things that made Tony Hillerman, Agatha Christie, G.K. Chesterton, and Dorthy Sayers great was you never saw it coming.
As a writer, we should at least try to mix it up a bit. I realize a lot of mainstream publishers don't seem to care about repetition at the moment, but you should. If nothing else, it shows you respect your readers.
Okay, end of sermon. Now, who brought the popcorn and potato chips?
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
Walt Disney's Classic Cartoon Favorites volume 9: Classic Holiday Stories. Disney. 58 minutes.
Just when you're up to your fanny in plastic Santas, reindeer, and Sugar Plum Fairies, a cartoon shows up about the "reason for the season." (No, not a solar-powered bun warmer for Aunt Myrtle!--who let this clown in? I told you we need to get that screen door fixed.) In this case, the cartoon is Disney's "The Small One." This is the story of a boy and the donkey who carried the Virgin to Bethlehem--and I absolutely refuse to mist-up over it, do you hear? Blast! Where did I put those tissues?
Ahem. Also on the DVD is "Pluto's Christmas Tree" and "Mickey's Christmas Carol." The first is one of the best Pluto cartoons (Chip and Dale don't hurt) and the second is fun, though Uncle Scrooge does lack a bit of George C. Scott's depth.
22 December 2009: Feast of St. Zeno, Winter Solstice, Savannah captured by Gen. Sherman 1864, Gen. McAuliffe in Bastogne tells surrounding Germans "Nuts!" 1944, first flight of Lockheed "Skunk Works" SR-71 Blackbird 1964, Brandenburg Gate reopens in Berlin 1989.
Lessons from the Muse Online: Part 4
The following is the fourth assignment for the World Building workshop at the Muse Online writers' conference:
MARINE CORPS SCHOOLS
Apergis Barracks
Wexford--Tara
Officer Candidate Gunnery Sergeant Lew Diamond Puller
Assignment 56A
The officer candidate shall give a short explanation of languages and their usages within the empire.
A number of major languages are currently in use within the Erin Empire.
The standard language of inter-system trade, government, and military coordination is Imperial Standard. The present thinking on the origins of Standard is that it was a development of either American or English, two early languages. At the moment, there is great disagreement over which of these languages is the true root (several academic duels are fought each semester with occasional loss of life in addition to maiming over this subject. Conrad of Bad tolz being the most famous because of his defense of the proposition that, at one time, the two languages formed a single unitary language he called "Canadian"). Until a few years ago, it was the fashion to include High Brazos' Texican within this family. There is at present a symposium in Blood Rivier on Bantu headed by Dr. Shaka Retief to settle which of these two root languages is included in addition to Zulu and Afrikaans that make the creole that is Bantu. The form of standard normally spoken on Tara is sometimes hard for offworlders to understand and between representatives of remote regions of the capital planet, Imperial Standard is used as a trade language.
On Yamato, a form of Nipponese is spoken and a semi-pictographic written language is used. There are certain similarities between the written Nipponese and the Xenese used by the CPM. There is aslow shift from the pictographic to an alpha-numeric written language in motion among the younger Yamato. a new fad for a mixture of Nipponese and Standard called "Yamard" is fashionable in Eto.
The Bayern of course speak Bayern. Here also is argument among language scholars. The two sides maintain Bayern is an outgrowth of one of two ancient languages: Bavarian or German. Conrad of Bad Tolz refused to involve himself in the discussion as he believed that the matter was trivial when compared to his thoughts on "Canadian."
As a note, next term, I will begin instruction in Arkmese in preparation for my possible posting to that planet. This will, of course, depend on the course of the insurgency referred to as the "Nipo rising."
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
Dr. SEUSS' How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (staring Boris Karloff) and Horton Hears a Who! Warner. 26 minutes each.
I ran into the Grinch back in fourth grade. Our school library had a bunch of these slightly off-center works of Dr. Suess (aka: Therodor Suess Geisel) and many of us were scarred for life. As it happens, the Grinch was the first of his books I read. Rather than Santa and plastic reindeer, it posulated the subversive idea that Christmas isn't a matter of getting, but giving of oneself. When you think of it, it's a story of conversion sparked by the Grinch witnessing the whos' living their faith. Instead of the unfortunately common plot of the sinner realizes his mistakes and imediately begins to preach the good news, the Grinch quietly joins and is accepted by the whos. Dr. Suess was a good writer because he could be subtle.
When How the Grinch Stole Christmas appeared on TV in 1966, Boris Karloff not only narrated but was apparently the model for the Grinch's facial expressions. When the green one gets his wonderful, horrible idea, it's purest Karloff (think Dr. Scarabus in the 1963 movie The Raven). As he carves the roast beast with his new friends the whos, the Grinch smiles beatificaly (no one could smile as saintly as Karloff--also think Dr. Scarabus).
This is the true Grinch. On the same DVD is Horton Hears a Who. And the joy is Jim Carrey--who the heck is Jim Carrey?
18 December 2009: Feast of St. Winebald of Wessex, Hannibal wins Battle of the Trebia - Second Punic War 218 BC, Mayflower lands 1620, Piltdown Man found 1912, Operation Linebacker II 1972.
MARINE CORPS SCHOOLS
Apergis Barracks
Wexford--Tara
Officer Candidate Gunnery Sergeant Lew Diamond Puller
Assignment 56A
The officer candidate shall give a short explanation of languages and their usages within the empire.
A number of major languages are currently in use within the Erin Empire.
The standard language of inter-system trade, government, and military coordination is Imperial Standard. The present thinking on the origins of Standard is that it was a development of either American or English, two early languages. At the moment, there is great disagreement over which of these languages is the true root (several academic duels are fought each semester with occasional loss of life in addition to maiming over this subject. Conrad of Bad tolz being the most famous because of his defense of the proposition that, at one time, the two languages formed a single unitary language he called "Canadian"). Until a few years ago, it was the fashion to include High Brazos' Texican within this family. There is at present a symposium in Blood Rivier on Bantu headed by Dr. Shaka Retief to settle which of these two root languages is included in addition to Zulu and Afrikaans that make the creole that is Bantu. The form of standard normally spoken on Tara is sometimes hard for offworlders to understand and between representatives of remote regions of the capital planet, Imperial Standard is used as a trade language.
On Yamato, a form of Nipponese is spoken and a semi-pictographic written language is used. There are certain similarities between the written Nipponese and the Xenese used by the CPM. There is aslow shift from the pictographic to an alpha-numeric written language in motion among the younger Yamato. a new fad for a mixture of Nipponese and Standard called "Yamard" is fashionable in Eto.
The Bayern of course speak Bayern. Here also is argument among language scholars. The two sides maintain Bayern is an outgrowth of one of two ancient languages: Bavarian or German. Conrad of Bad Tolz refused to involve himself in the discussion as he believed that the matter was trivial when compared to his thoughts on "Canadian."
As a note, next term, I will begin instruction in Arkmese in preparation for my possible posting to that planet. This will, of course, depend on the course of the insurgency referred to as the "Nipo rising."
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
Dr. SEUSS' How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (staring Boris Karloff) and Horton Hears a Who! Warner. 26 minutes each.
I ran into the Grinch back in fourth grade. Our school library had a bunch of these slightly off-center works of Dr. Suess (aka: Therodor Suess Geisel) and many of us were scarred for life. As it happens, the Grinch was the first of his books I read. Rather than Santa and plastic reindeer, it posulated the subversive idea that Christmas isn't a matter of getting, but giving of oneself. When you think of it, it's a story of conversion sparked by the Grinch witnessing the whos' living their faith. Instead of the unfortunately common plot of the sinner realizes his mistakes and imediately begins to preach the good news, the Grinch quietly joins and is accepted by the whos. Dr. Suess was a good writer because he could be subtle.
When How the Grinch Stole Christmas appeared on TV in 1966, Boris Karloff not only narrated but was apparently the model for the Grinch's facial expressions. When the green one gets his wonderful, horrible idea, it's purest Karloff (think Dr. Scarabus in the 1963 movie The Raven). As he carves the roast beast with his new friends the whos, the Grinch smiles beatificaly (no one could smile as saintly as Karloff--also think Dr. Scarabus).
This is the true Grinch. On the same DVD is Horton Hears a Who. And the joy is Jim Carrey--who the heck is Jim Carrey?
18 December 2009: Feast of St. Winebald of Wessex, Hannibal wins Battle of the Trebia - Second Punic War 218 BC, Mayflower lands 1620, Piltdown Man found 1912, Operation Linebacker II 1972.
Lessons from the Muse Online: Part 3
This is results of the third assignment from the World Building workshop from the Muse Online writers' conference:
Arkm is an Earth-type planet orbiting Cogswell's Star (Type G0--coordinates: 231.4 X, 354.2 Y, 127.9 Z). As Arkm's orbit is to the outer edge of the star's habitable zone, the climate tends toward the cold. Of special note to Spacers and ground forces, Cogswell's Star is rather active in production of charged particles and, thus, frequently interferes with electro-magnetic communications in the RF band.
Cogswell's Star was first surveyed eighty-five years ago by the Bayern survey vessel Alfred L. Wegener. Arkm's existence was noted but as it was on the far side of its orbit was not closely studied. Thirty-three years later, the fact that Arkm was inhabited was discovered by the ore-carrier Tau Ceti Maru when it picked up spark-gap signals while passing near the system.
A full planetary survey was completed by an Imperial Erin Naval Survey party from the destroyer Todd Beamer (a Hero class FRAM I) a few months after Tau Ceti Maru's report (see section 41.3 of Admiralty Court Reward Proceedings). It was found that Arkm has rich deposits of Tantalum in easily mined areas. Arkm was opened to exploitation ten years later with the first Imperial Covenant to Combine Metals, I.C. of Tara. Since then, two other mining concerns have been awarded covenants: Rujio Metals and Smelting, I.C. of Yamato and KwaZulu Mining and Production, I.C. of Bantu.
Because there is no planet-wide government, Arkm is a Class III Imperial Protectorate and is administered through the Imperial Ministry for Colonies headed by Prince Ewald von Bayerlan-Wurzburg (Bayern).
To date, it has been impossible to discover the origin-group of the original settlers of Arkm. The most commonly spoken languages appear to belong to the Urdic family, though shot through with features of the Romance family.
The main religion is a form of goddess worship having no set hierarchical structure. A notable feature is the belief that a sacred flame must be kept burning at all times in villages and towns. (Note to Imperial Forces: The Arkmese believe that when killed in combat, the soul of the fighter becomes a lover of the goddess. A second belief that keys into this is that the soul can ascend only as long as the sacred fire is burning. To make themselves more appealing to the goddess, fighters smear themselves with a strong smelling spice also used in cooking.) There is some mission effort under way by several faiths.
Recent developments:
The Imperial Erin destroyer Kevin Barry (a Hero class FRAM II) is presently on station in orbit around Arkm with a Platoon Landing Force of Imperial Marines. Presently dirt-side because of the Nipo rising is one battalion of Bayern Fallschirmjagers, a regiment of High Brazos cavalry (both mounted and vehicular), Imperial Marine and Naval Air Groups at NAS Bad Water, and a company of Imperial Marines as Governor-General's Guard at Quigali.
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
The Nutcracker (staring Mikhail Baryshnikov). Kultur. 78 minutes.
On Christmas eve, visions of sugar plum fairies dance in my head (which probably explains why I tend to wake up the next morning feeling a little less than Christmasy until the second glass of Dr. Pepper). I put this down to all the lousy versions I've suffered through in my young, innocent years of The Nutcracker (contrary to Jeff Foxworthy, this is not something you do off the high-dive--I only wish it were).
When CBS first broadcast Baryshnikov's version of The Nutcracker in 1977 (it moved to PBS later), I didn't expect a whole lot. The production knocked my socks off! The guy was one heck of a dancer and actor as was Gelsey Kirkland as Clara. Unlike many, Kirkland's Clara looks like a kid (a rather tall kid admittedly--but a kid). Alexander Minz as her Uncle Drosselmeyer, the inventor/sorcerer, is one spooky dude. And best of all, there ain't a fairy in sight!
Our copy was my daughter's Christmas gift years ago. This the one to have (though Maurice Sendak's 1983 version is interesting).
15 December 2009: Feast of St. Mary Di Rosa of Brescia, Belisarius defeats Vandals at Ticameron 533, U.S. Bill of Rights ratified by Virginia and becomes law 1791, Battle of Nashville 1864, Battle of Mt. Austen - Guadalcanal 1942.
Arkm is an Earth-type planet orbiting Cogswell's Star (Type G0--coordinates: 231.4 X, 354.2 Y, 127.9 Z). As Arkm's orbit is to the outer edge of the star's habitable zone, the climate tends toward the cold. Of special note to Spacers and ground forces, Cogswell's Star is rather active in production of charged particles and, thus, frequently interferes with electro-magnetic communications in the RF band.
Cogswell's Star was first surveyed eighty-five years ago by the Bayern survey vessel Alfred L. Wegener. Arkm's existence was noted but as it was on the far side of its orbit was not closely studied. Thirty-three years later, the fact that Arkm was inhabited was discovered by the ore-carrier Tau Ceti Maru when it picked up spark-gap signals while passing near the system.
A full planetary survey was completed by an Imperial Erin Naval Survey party from the destroyer Todd Beamer (a Hero class FRAM I) a few months after Tau Ceti Maru's report (see section 41.3 of Admiralty Court Reward Proceedings). It was found that Arkm has rich deposits of Tantalum in easily mined areas. Arkm was opened to exploitation ten years later with the first Imperial Covenant to Combine Metals, I.C. of Tara. Since then, two other mining concerns have been awarded covenants: Rujio Metals and Smelting, I.C. of Yamato and KwaZulu Mining and Production, I.C. of Bantu.
Because there is no planet-wide government, Arkm is a Class III Imperial Protectorate and is administered through the Imperial Ministry for Colonies headed by Prince Ewald von Bayerlan-Wurzburg (Bayern).
To date, it has been impossible to discover the origin-group of the original settlers of Arkm. The most commonly spoken languages appear to belong to the Urdic family, though shot through with features of the Romance family.
The main religion is a form of goddess worship having no set hierarchical structure. A notable feature is the belief that a sacred flame must be kept burning at all times in villages and towns. (Note to Imperial Forces: The Arkmese believe that when killed in combat, the soul of the fighter becomes a lover of the goddess. A second belief that keys into this is that the soul can ascend only as long as the sacred fire is burning. To make themselves more appealing to the goddess, fighters smear themselves with a strong smelling spice also used in cooking.) There is some mission effort under way by several faiths.
Recent developments:
The Imperial Erin destroyer Kevin Barry (a Hero class FRAM II) is presently on station in orbit around Arkm with a Platoon Landing Force of Imperial Marines. Presently dirt-side because of the Nipo rising is one battalion of Bayern Fallschirmjagers, a regiment of High Brazos cavalry (both mounted and vehicular), Imperial Marine and Naval Air Groups at NAS Bad Water, and a company of Imperial Marines as Governor-General's Guard at Quigali.
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
The Nutcracker (staring Mikhail Baryshnikov). Kultur. 78 minutes.
On Christmas eve, visions of sugar plum fairies dance in my head (which probably explains why I tend to wake up the next morning feeling a little less than Christmasy until the second glass of Dr. Pepper). I put this down to all the lousy versions I've suffered through in my young, innocent years of The Nutcracker (contrary to Jeff Foxworthy, this is not something you do off the high-dive--I only wish it were).
When CBS first broadcast Baryshnikov's version of The Nutcracker in 1977 (it moved to PBS later), I didn't expect a whole lot. The production knocked my socks off! The guy was one heck of a dancer and actor as was Gelsey Kirkland as Clara. Unlike many, Kirkland's Clara looks like a kid (a rather tall kid admittedly--but a kid). Alexander Minz as her Uncle Drosselmeyer, the inventor/sorcerer, is one spooky dude. And best of all, there ain't a fairy in sight!
Our copy was my daughter's Christmas gift years ago. This the one to have (though Maurice Sendak's 1983 version is interesting).
15 December 2009: Feast of St. Mary Di Rosa of Brescia, Belisarius defeats Vandals at Ticameron 533, U.S. Bill of Rights ratified by Virginia and becomes law 1791, Battle of Nashville 1864, Battle of Mt. Austen - Guadalcanal 1942.
Lessons from the Muse Online: Part 2
This is the results of the second assignment in the World Building workshop at the Muse Online writers' conference. We were to set down the rules around which we built our settings.
In my writing universe, there are a set of rules to which the story happenings and setting must conform:
1. Humans exploded out from earth with the discovery of relatively inexpensive star flight sometime after the mid 21st century. Most of the history of this time was lost during "The Collapse," thought roughly to be in the hundred years after. A number of Earth-type worlds were settled by various national and ethnic groups searching for "living space" in which to build their ideal societies. As with most things involving humans, matters tended to go in directions unforeseen by the majority. Things fell apart.
Dawn came some decades/centuries/millennia later (academics have been killed in arguments about the timing). Eventually, power blocks arose once more. Imperial Erin is one of these.
2. Most of the action takes place within the Erin Empire. The capital planet is Tara. Among the member planets mentioned so far in the cycle are Bayern, High Brazos, Yamoto, Bantu, and Arkm.
3. The technology available to the empire includes star flight, interstellar communication, and that expected in the near term. I have refrained from explaining the inner workings of the technology because the knowledge isn't germane to the characters' lives (does one really think about where the electricity comes from when one flips a light switch in the middle of the night?--besides, most of the stories that try this tend to have high MEGO factors [see below]). All they care about normally is that the Navy gets them between star systems and the "signal floozies" aboard ship keep them in contact with their respective headquarters. How the Spacers do this is their problem.
In Part 3, I'll talk about the history of Arkm and its people (what there is known of it).
MEGO: My Eyes Glaze Over
Words of Wisdom from Gunny Fluellen
Boot: "Why the enemy is loud; you hear him all night."
Gunny: "If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb,--in your own conscience, now?"
King Henry V
Act IV, scene I
William Shakespeare (I'm not sure whether he went through Parris Island or San Diego.)
Catholic Writers Conference Online 2010
The Catholic Writers Guild will be hosting a free online writers conference from 26 February to 5 March 2010. Last year's was truly excellent. It is a combination of chats with authors and editors, workshops on various facets in writing, and the opportunity to pitch the project you've been beavering away on to representatives from a number of Catholic publishing houses. While the conference is Catholic, others of good will are welcome (last year Frank Creed--author of the Underground series and the role playing game Flashpoint and a Protestant gentleman--lit a fire under my writing with his workshop). As a certain gunnery sergeant I used to know said, "The only way you can beat free is if they pay you." (Sorry, we're too broke to do that.) Here's the link: http://www.catholicwritersconference.com/
Hope to see you there!
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
A Christmas Carol (staring George C. Scott). Fox. 100 minutes.
If your DVD collection includes the Alastair Sim version of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol (1951), you have good taste. If you also have George C. Scott's version (1984), you have good taste indeed. Though made twenty-five years ago, Scott's performance is still striking. His Ebenezer Scrooge is a deadly serious Type-A executive. He takes the "Christmas--bah, humbug!" line and delivers a chill with a contemptuous laugh and "Christmas...humbug." to his nephew, Fred. Scott is powerful but controlled and makes his conversion at the end believable and satisfying.
If you have neither, get this one first!
Report from the Front:
Tuesday night, I witnessed the broadcast of what around here will be a family Christmas classic. This was the ABC broadcast of Disney's "Prep & Landing."
It is the story of the covert force of elves landed ahead of Santa's visits to clear and prep the LZ. Obviously, these guys are some unknown detachment of Force Recon. Just as obviously, Santa is an aviator. His COD--I mean sleigh--even uses an arrestor system. You can almost smell the JP4 around the reindeer team. I know these guys.
It didn't hurt that ABC ran the animation right after "A Charlie Brown Christmas."
Major Note on "A Charlie Brown Christmas" broadcast:
An open letter from Leon to ABC on their broadcast of "A Charlie Brown Christmas" was put up over at Dork Tower this morning. I admit I came in on the tail-end of "Charlie Brown," so I can't say one way or the other, but I trust the guys at Dork Tower so here's the link: http://www.dorktower.com/2009/12/10/an-open-letter-to-abc-from-my-friend-leon/
11 December 2009: Feast of St. Barsabas of Persia, tomorrow is the first day of Chanukah, Byzatine Emperor Nikephoros II assasinated by wife and her lover - later Emperor John I Tzimiskes 969, Llywelyn, last Welsh prince killed 1282, King Edward VIII abdicates 1936, Germany and Italy declare war on U.S. 1941.
In my writing universe, there are a set of rules to which the story happenings and setting must conform:
1. Humans exploded out from earth with the discovery of relatively inexpensive star flight sometime after the mid 21st century. Most of the history of this time was lost during "The Collapse," thought roughly to be in the hundred years after. A number of Earth-type worlds were settled by various national and ethnic groups searching for "living space" in which to build their ideal societies. As with most things involving humans, matters tended to go in directions unforeseen by the majority. Things fell apart.
Dawn came some decades/centuries/millennia later (academics have been killed in arguments about the timing). Eventually, power blocks arose once more. Imperial Erin is one of these.
2. Most of the action takes place within the Erin Empire. The capital planet is Tara. Among the member planets mentioned so far in the cycle are Bayern, High Brazos, Yamoto, Bantu, and Arkm.
3. The technology available to the empire includes star flight, interstellar communication, and that expected in the near term. I have refrained from explaining the inner workings of the technology because the knowledge isn't germane to the characters' lives (does one really think about where the electricity comes from when one flips a light switch in the middle of the night?--besides, most of the stories that try this tend to have high MEGO factors [see below]). All they care about normally is that the Navy gets them between star systems and the "signal floozies" aboard ship keep them in contact with their respective headquarters. How the Spacers do this is their problem.
In Part 3, I'll talk about the history of Arkm and its people (what there is known of it).
MEGO: My Eyes Glaze Over
Words of Wisdom from Gunny Fluellen
Boot: "Why the enemy is loud; you hear him all night."
Gunny: "If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb,--in your own conscience, now?"
King Henry V
Act IV, scene I
William Shakespeare (I'm not sure whether he went through Parris Island or San Diego.)
Catholic Writers Conference Online 2010
The Catholic Writers Guild will be hosting a free online writers conference from 26 February to 5 March 2010. Last year's was truly excellent. It is a combination of chats with authors and editors, workshops on various facets in writing, and the opportunity to pitch the project you've been beavering away on to representatives from a number of Catholic publishing houses. While the conference is Catholic, others of good will are welcome (last year Frank Creed--author of the Underground series and the role playing game Flashpoint and a Protestant gentleman--lit a fire under my writing with his workshop). As a certain gunnery sergeant I used to know said, "The only way you can beat free is if they pay you." (Sorry, we're too broke to do that.) Here's the link: http://www.catholicwritersconference.com/
Hope to see you there!
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
A Christmas Carol (staring George C. Scott). Fox. 100 minutes.
If your DVD collection includes the Alastair Sim version of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol (1951), you have good taste. If you also have George C. Scott's version (1984), you have good taste indeed. Though made twenty-five years ago, Scott's performance is still striking. His Ebenezer Scrooge is a deadly serious Type-A executive. He takes the "Christmas--bah, humbug!" line and delivers a chill with a contemptuous laugh and "Christmas...humbug." to his nephew, Fred. Scott is powerful but controlled and makes his conversion at the end believable and satisfying.
If you have neither, get this one first!
Report from the Front:
Tuesday night, I witnessed the broadcast of what around here will be a family Christmas classic. This was the ABC broadcast of Disney's "Prep & Landing."
It is the story of the covert force of elves landed ahead of Santa's visits to clear and prep the LZ. Obviously, these guys are some unknown detachment of Force Recon. Just as obviously, Santa is an aviator. His COD--I mean sleigh--even uses an arrestor system. You can almost smell the JP4 around the reindeer team. I know these guys.
It didn't hurt that ABC ran the animation right after "A Charlie Brown Christmas."
Major Note on "A Charlie Brown Christmas" broadcast:
An open letter from Leon to ABC on their broadcast of "A Charlie Brown Christmas" was put up over at Dork Tower this morning. I admit I came in on the tail-end of "Charlie Brown," so I can't say one way or the other, but I trust the guys at Dork Tower so here's the link: http://www.dorktower.com/2009/12/10/an-open-letter-to-abc-from-my-friend-leon/
11 December 2009: Feast of St. Barsabas of Persia, tomorrow is the first day of Chanukah, Byzatine Emperor Nikephoros II assasinated by wife and her lover - later Emperor John I Tzimiskes 969, Llywelyn, last Welsh prince killed 1282, King Edward VIII abdicates 1936, Germany and Italy declare war on U.S. 1941.
Lessons from the Muse Online: Part 1
I attended the 2009 Muse Online Writers Conference this Fall. This is part 1 of the work I did for the workshop "World Building in Science Fiction and Fantasy." We started off with a Q & A in which we had to ask ourselves a series of questions to help us develop our settings.
Q. You're writing about the military mostly from the view from the grunt up to the battalion commander (usually a major or light colonel). Why?
A. That's the level I have the most experience with.
Q. Are you writing about armies?
A. No, smaller types of organizations. so far, Fallschirmjagers (drop-troops or future paratroopers who drop from orbit) from Bayern, horse cavalry from High Brazos, Imperial Erin Marines, and the crew of an Imperial Erin destroyer.
Q. Why smaller groups?
A. Camaraderie is usually higher and 'characters" are more likely to end up in such units ("You're asking this of a man who leaves a perfectly good spacecraft to drop from orbit in an egg just so people can shoot at him?").
Q. What kind of situation could a series of short stories be written about?
A. Insurgency tends to be best written about in small chunks, invasions often need a novella, and campaigns require a book. The bigger the operation, the larger the canvas.
Q. What sort of POV?
A. Probably 3rd person limited is best. If you go for 1st person, your narrator has to be everywhere action is taking place. Besides, with 3rd limited, you can occasionally (very occasionally) do a little head-hopping--It's always fun to look at the problems the guy on the other side of the hill is having.
Q. Who's the good guy?
A. That depends on the situation. Normal people tend to think of themselves as the "good guy" (George McDonald Fraser's Harry Flashman doesn't count). It's my job as the writer to limn the characters and their actions in such away that the reader can understand them.
Q. how close to real life can you fly without people reading into the situations and characters commentary you don't intend?
A. as I'm writing about a counterinsurgency, I figure I should make the setting as different from the settings of those going on in the real world as possible.
In my stories, "Words of Rust," "Electronic Propagation," and "Marine Diplomacy," Arkm is described as an "ice world" or "ice ball." In the area my stories are set, the terrain is mostly low-relief. The only heights that have shown up are a dormant shield volcano. As the stories are told from the view point of soldiers fighting an insurgency, the actual science of the planetology hasn't really come up. I see it mostly in this case as something I have to be aware of so nothing jarring jumps up and smacks the reader.
One of my reasons for Arkm's climate and geomorphology was, because I am writing about a counterinsurgency, I wanted to disconnect the stories from things going on at present as much as possible. Because of the subject matter, there will be commonalities. Soldiers have been pretty much the same for the last 8,000 plus years. By definition, insurgency-counterinsurgency has features that don't change (otherwise, it would be some other form of mutual mayhem).
I'll develop Arkm more in part 2.
Review (Note to FTC: I bought this dang book myself!)
Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay. by Don Rickey, Jr. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987.
I've always been a sucker for John Ford's cavalry trilogy: "Fort Apache (1948)," "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)," and "Rio Grande (1950)." While the cavalrymen were a little better matched in their uniforms when out on patrol (I believe it was Remington who remarked that no two were dressed alike normally), they gave the "right" impression of the soldier's lot--dirt, sweat, exhaustion, and the chance to die in a nameless little clash.
Don Rickey, Jr.'s Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay looks at the life of the frontier Regulars from 1865 to the mid 1890s. Unlike many books on this subject and period, it concentrates on the enlisted man's experience. Officers, of course, appear throughout, but it is their interaction with the man in the ranks. The book begins with the enlistment and, almost immediately, one learns what anyone who's been around the military knows, there are the regulations and there is the way things actually work as the recruiter works his magic.
The soldier was often hungry and a look at his diet--dry bread, black coffee, salt beef, (if he was lucky) beans, and hard tack (this was a hard, heavy, plastic-like cracker allegedly made from wheat--men have been known to be killed when hit by a thrown one)--lend convincing proof that our ancestors were a hardy lot. When combined with the knowledge that a private made a princely $13 per month, the fact that the enlistees looked upon such a life as an improvement over that of a civilian is frightening. After reading this section, one may never look upon MREs the same way again.
One also learns of a Sixth Cavalry captain's three lights of the morning--peep o'day, break o'day, and broad daylight, that the first sergeant would be wise to quickly give Private Waller the password at night at 1889's Fort Sill, that General Sheridan knew the difference between Buffalo Bill and buffalo chips, and that rifle cartridges and carbine cartridges could be mixed up to the amusement of all present.
The book finishes with a look at what happened to the survivors after they mustered out.
Shot through Rickey's account is death waiting for its chance, whether through accident, stupidity, sickness, bad water, worse food, heat, cold, homicide, ennui, the unexplained, and, occasionally, action by hostiles.
Read Robert Utley's Frontier Regulars for the campaigns, S.L.A. Marshall's The Crimsoned Prairie for the battles, and Rickey for the soldiers' lives.
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
The Birth of Christ: A Christmas Cantata by Andrew T. Miller. Sony Classical. 85 minutes.
On the night of 18 August 2006 in Dublin's Christ Church Cathedral, the Catholic and Protestant choirs used by Handel to premiere his Messiah in 1742 combined to perform the premiere of Andrew T. Miller's The Birth of Christ: A Christmas Cantata. Narrated by Oscar nominee and Golden Globe winner Liam Neeson, this is a relatively new Christmas classic. There is also a CD (to which I'm listening as I write this) available. Definitely good stuff.
8 December 2009: Feast of St. Romaric, Pope Pius IX proclaims Immaculate Conception as dogma 1854, Battle of the Falklands 1914, Japanese invade Hong Kong 1941, U.S.S.R. dissolved and Commonwealth of Independent States established 1991.
Q. You're writing about the military mostly from the view from the grunt up to the battalion commander (usually a major or light colonel). Why?
A. That's the level I have the most experience with.
Q. Are you writing about armies?
A. No, smaller types of organizations. so far, Fallschirmjagers (drop-troops or future paratroopers who drop from orbit) from Bayern, horse cavalry from High Brazos, Imperial Erin Marines, and the crew of an Imperial Erin destroyer.
Q. Why smaller groups?
A. Camaraderie is usually higher and 'characters" are more likely to end up in such units ("You're asking this of a man who leaves a perfectly good spacecraft to drop from orbit in an egg just so people can shoot at him?").
Q. What kind of situation could a series of short stories be written about?
A. Insurgency tends to be best written about in small chunks, invasions often need a novella, and campaigns require a book. The bigger the operation, the larger the canvas.
Q. What sort of POV?
A. Probably 3rd person limited is best. If you go for 1st person, your narrator has to be everywhere action is taking place. Besides, with 3rd limited, you can occasionally (very occasionally) do a little head-hopping--It's always fun to look at the problems the guy on the other side of the hill is having.
Q. Who's the good guy?
A. That depends on the situation. Normal people tend to think of themselves as the "good guy" (George McDonald Fraser's Harry Flashman doesn't count). It's my job as the writer to limn the characters and their actions in such away that the reader can understand them.
Q. how close to real life can you fly without people reading into the situations and characters commentary you don't intend?
A. as I'm writing about a counterinsurgency, I figure I should make the setting as different from the settings of those going on in the real world as possible.
In my stories, "Words of Rust," "Electronic Propagation," and "Marine Diplomacy," Arkm is described as an "ice world" or "ice ball." In the area my stories are set, the terrain is mostly low-relief. The only heights that have shown up are a dormant shield volcano. As the stories are told from the view point of soldiers fighting an insurgency, the actual science of the planetology hasn't really come up. I see it mostly in this case as something I have to be aware of so nothing jarring jumps up and smacks the reader.
One of my reasons for Arkm's climate and geomorphology was, because I am writing about a counterinsurgency, I wanted to disconnect the stories from things going on at present as much as possible. Because of the subject matter, there will be commonalities. Soldiers have been pretty much the same for the last 8,000 plus years. By definition, insurgency-counterinsurgency has features that don't change (otherwise, it would be some other form of mutual mayhem).
I'll develop Arkm more in part 2.
Review (Note to FTC: I bought this dang book myself!)
Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay. by Don Rickey, Jr. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987.
I've always been a sucker for John Ford's cavalry trilogy: "Fort Apache (1948)," "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)," and "Rio Grande (1950)." While the cavalrymen were a little better matched in their uniforms when out on patrol (I believe it was Remington who remarked that no two were dressed alike normally), they gave the "right" impression of the soldier's lot--dirt, sweat, exhaustion, and the chance to die in a nameless little clash.
Don Rickey, Jr.'s Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay looks at the life of the frontier Regulars from 1865 to the mid 1890s. Unlike many books on this subject and period, it concentrates on the enlisted man's experience. Officers, of course, appear throughout, but it is their interaction with the man in the ranks. The book begins with the enlistment and, almost immediately, one learns what anyone who's been around the military knows, there are the regulations and there is the way things actually work as the recruiter works his magic.
The soldier was often hungry and a look at his diet--dry bread, black coffee, salt beef, (if he was lucky) beans, and hard tack (this was a hard, heavy, plastic-like cracker allegedly made from wheat--men have been known to be killed when hit by a thrown one)--lend convincing proof that our ancestors were a hardy lot. When combined with the knowledge that a private made a princely $13 per month, the fact that the enlistees looked upon such a life as an improvement over that of a civilian is frightening. After reading this section, one may never look upon MREs the same way again.
One also learns of a Sixth Cavalry captain's three lights of the morning--peep o'day, break o'day, and broad daylight, that the first sergeant would be wise to quickly give Private Waller the password at night at 1889's Fort Sill, that General Sheridan knew the difference between Buffalo Bill and buffalo chips, and that rifle cartridges and carbine cartridges could be mixed up to the amusement of all present.
The book finishes with a look at what happened to the survivors after they mustered out.
Shot through Rickey's account is death waiting for its chance, whether through accident, stupidity, sickness, bad water, worse food, heat, cold, homicide, ennui, the unexplained, and, occasionally, action by hostiles.
Read Robert Utley's Frontier Regulars for the campaigns, S.L.A. Marshall's The Crimsoned Prairie for the battles, and Rickey for the soldiers' lives.
DVDs for Christmas (Note to FTC: I bought this dang DVD myself!)
The Birth of Christ: A Christmas Cantata by Andrew T. Miller. Sony Classical. 85 minutes.
On the night of 18 August 2006 in Dublin's Christ Church Cathedral, the Catholic and Protestant choirs used by Handel to premiere his Messiah in 1742 combined to perform the premiere of Andrew T. Miller's The Birth of Christ: A Christmas Cantata. Narrated by Oscar nominee and Golden Globe winner Liam Neeson, this is a relatively new Christmas classic. There is also a CD (to which I'm listening as I write this) available. Definitely good stuff.
8 December 2009: Feast of St. Romaric, Pope Pius IX proclaims Immaculate Conception as dogma 1854, Battle of the Falklands 1914, Japanese invade Hong Kong 1941, U.S.S.R. dissolved and Commonwealth of Independent States established 1991.
When good vegetarians turn bad.
Being a connoisseur (stress on "sewer") of giant monster movies, I have been struck by the great acting wasted in many of them. In "Night of the Lepus," (1972) Sheriff Cody, played by Paul Fix (see below), manages to deliver the following line in a dead straight, no nonsense, policeman doing his duty manner: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention. There is a herd of killer rabbits headed this way." This man should have gotten an Oscar for being able to get that out with a straight face. In the gang my wife and I hung out with when we were first married, trying to equal Fix's performance was a test no one was able to pass. Most of us were okay until we got about to the word "herd," then we fell apart. It's still a great party game for science fiction/fantasy fans.
Which brings to mind a question: Why would giant herbivores turn into carnivores in a desert? According to the plot of "Night of the Lepus," the rabbits, growing to gigantic size, switched from vegetation to meat as a food source. This also shows up in the movie "Them" (1954) when Joan Weldon, playing Dr. Pat Medford (the pretty one), remarks about the giant ants, that with the lack of forage, "...they'd have to turn carnivorous." Huh? Looking at the American Southwest's deserts, there's a heck of a lot more biomass available in vegetation than large prey species (well, yeah, there is Sun City). Most likely the dedicated herbivores would have died of starvation before they developed into dedicated carnivores if the situation was that dire. Of course, they could have gone only half way and joined us and bears as omnivores (would you care for a small steak with your salad, sir?). Being multi fueled is a pretty good strategy sometimes. One could consider carnivorous rabbits as something of a throw-back when you figure mammals started out as a bunch of bug-snatchers (this might explain why some of my relatives, as Jeff Foxworthy's wont to suggest, consider a six pack and a bug-zapper as a fine evening's entertainment). I realize for the sake of the story the giant whatevers have to chow down on people (that good old chill up the small mammal's spine) and the desert is spooky and handy to Hollywood, but for the biology types a little cringe comes with it.
26 November 2009: Feast of St. Conrad of Constance, Thanksgiving (U.S.), blizzard of 1896-North Dakota, Note: Tomorrow it becomes legal to play Christmas music in 23 states.
Which brings to mind a question: Why would giant herbivores turn into carnivores in a desert? According to the plot of "Night of the Lepus," the rabbits, growing to gigantic size, switched from vegetation to meat as a food source. This also shows up in the movie "Them" (1954) when Joan Weldon, playing Dr. Pat Medford (the pretty one), remarks about the giant ants, that with the lack of forage, "...they'd have to turn carnivorous." Huh? Looking at the American Southwest's deserts, there's a heck of a lot more biomass available in vegetation than large prey species (well, yeah, there is Sun City). Most likely the dedicated herbivores would have died of starvation before they developed into dedicated carnivores if the situation was that dire. Of course, they could have gone only half way and joined us and bears as omnivores (would you care for a small steak with your salad, sir?). Being multi fueled is a pretty good strategy sometimes. One could consider carnivorous rabbits as something of a throw-back when you figure mammals started out as a bunch of bug-snatchers (this might explain why some of my relatives, as Jeff Foxworthy's wont to suggest, consider a six pack and a bug-zapper as a fine evening's entertainment). I realize for the sake of the story the giant whatevers have to chow down on people (that good old chill up the small mammal's spine) and the desert is spooky and handy to Hollywood, but for the biology types a little cringe comes with it.
For more on this, you may want to get a hold of a copy of: Fudd, R.E. "Giagantism as displayed in some specimens of Oryctolagus cuniculus from the Basin and Range Province, Western North America." 1973. Extracts in Papers on Late Holocene Mammals from the American Southwest. Ed. B. Bonnie, Oswald Rarebit and Fr. R.A. Hare, S.J. Berkeley: University of California, 1996. 337-452.
Paul Fix (1901-1983) appeared in 350 roles in movies and TV starting in 1927 (he appeared in 27 John Wayne movies alone). He started as a smooth heavy then moved into character roles such as Marshal Micah Torrance in the ABC show, "The Rifleman" (1958-1963), starring Chuck Conners.
Christmas Gift Idea:
Bird Watcher's Digest. http://birdwatchersdigest.com/
This bimonthly digest-sized magazine kind of snuck up on me. I tripped over it for the first time at the supermarket. The pictures are nice and the writing is well done.
A story that jumped out at me from the November/December 2009 issue concerned the rediscovery of a forest owlet thought to be extinct 100 years in India. Mixed up in this was the Richard Meinertzhagen affair. This was gravy to me as Meinertzhagen (remember the staff officer and his trick in the movie "The Light Horsemen?") and his doings are of especial interest to me.
26 November 2009: Feast of St. Conrad of Constance, Thanksgiving (U.S.), blizzard of 1896-North Dakota, Note: Tomorrow it becomes legal to play Christmas music in 23 states.
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