The Sureshot

moving

2011-08-01T09:39:00.000-07:00

I'm afraid I am making the switch to wordpress. I have been playing around with a blog on that host and I like it much more. I do not know if I will continue this one. I may keep it to post any non-Sureshot work, while my wordpress blog is exclusively related to my book. You can find that blog at: http://www.thesureshot.wordpress.com/

Long time no blog

2011-06-13T16:29:00.001-07:00

It has been a while since I paid any attention to my blog, my writing or much else beyond family, work and church, but it is summer and I have the opportunity to once again make an effort to write, post to my blog, tweet, facebook and generally waste massive amounts of time on-line. It's great. So...I appologize to anyone who missed me, I hope to be reaquainted with you, and I promise that next time I will post my leave of absence so there will be no confusion. I hope to make up for lost time this summer. I have a lot of things planned, but we'll see how it goes.

This is crazy

2011-02-17T18:55:00.001-08:00

I finished a chapter about whether the hiring process in the teaching profession is flawed. There certainly seems to be some problems there.

Ideally a school should be able to hire and fire the teachers they decide are best for their institution. Instead they are beholden to a series of agreements and laws that force them to conduct much of the hiring and firing in the early spring, months before the school year begins and the actual demand for teachers in known. They are also unable to keep the teachers they want and remove the ones they decide are a poor fit, or are not producing enough. Instead they are forced to eliminate the most junior teacher without any other consideration. I heard recently that in one state the "teacher of the year" was pink-slipped because he was the most junior. If a school is forced to fire the best teacher the state has to offer because of a union agreement, or state law, then something is wrong.

It creates a system in which the school that just made an effort to find the teacher they decided was the best for their school through a rigorous hiring process is forced to release that teacher at the end of the year, just in case they will no longer need him because they will be unable to release him in the fall. Furthermore they cannot release another teacher who may have grown complacent or even belligerent and spiteful. Nope, the school is forced to release the teachers they recently sought after and gladly placed in their classroom. Imagine baseball teams releasing their most recent draft pick to save money rather than the player who has not produced for the past few years and his past his prime. A team owner would likely not make that decision, but schools are forced to do exactly that. They cut the newest teachers who are energetic, and full of inspiration and insight from their recent studies, even though they are inexperienced.

I would like to see some change in the way in which teachers are hired and fired in our schools. This may seem simple but it will not be easy. It will pit teachers against each other, but this is already the case so until we address this problem it will continue. President Obama mentioned getting rid of poor teachers and encouraging new and enthusiastic ones, but so far I have not seen a change. I was worried when I heard him make the point in his campaign that he did not know how much influence the union had over education. This is not the whole of the challenge, but it would do well to allow schools to have more influence over their own staff.

Valentine’s Day Sonnet

2011-02-17T18:50:00.001-08:00

This was a sonnet I wrote for my wife on Valentine 's Day. For whatever reason, I have been writing them again. I like sonnets. Most of my students hate them and complain about having to write them for English class, but I try to redeem the form for them. They can be a little challenging, but I like the challenge of having to force poetry into a concrete structure. Anyways…here it is.

They say that today I should love you more.

Somehow this day, they call the day of love,

Supposed to increase my love from before.

They know all about what love is made of.

Two dozen roses can surely melt hearts.

Or loads of fancy chocolates perhaps.

Men don't forget to get them lovely cards.

Diamonds may be forever, but I'll pass.

Sure roses are red, but soon they'll be dead.

Candy is sweet, but how much can you eat?

Cards are great, but can't keep you warm in bed.

Jewels wonderful, until the bill you greet.

But none of these can say any better,

More than today, I'll love you forever.

Sureshot resurrection

2011-01-30T08:24:00.000-08:00

I am hoping to resurrect the Sureshot this year. I have been brainstorming a plan to make it happen and will hopefully be able to stick with it this year. it should be easier than the past few years since with any luck we won't have a baby born this year and I will be able to devote more time to writing and trying to sell books. I have done a poor job of it in the past but still have hope for making some decent sales. This is probably it though. If I cannot get some sales done this year I suspect the book will be dead. I desperately want to sell 5000 and get the second published. It is just waiting. Sureshot the Assassin (the second book) is even better than the first, but the first is no slouch. Often I get positive feedback about it and still have people ask about the second. This needs to happen. I need to get there. It must be my top priority this year, and look, as I post this, a whole month has already passed. As part of my effort to keep Durbar alive I am going to write short stories about him that I can post here and hope to put into a news letter so I can keep interest going. It is going to be a long year. But I am confident I can get there. I also want to produce a "commercial" of sorts to post on Youtube, and might try and make some other things I can put up there. Lastly I am on the lookout for Role playing forums where people get together to role play characters and adventures. I hope to host some based on my story and Pavshia where the stories take place. Maybe all this will add up to something. I sure hope so. When Sureshot came out I gave myself 10 years to try and make a go at writing full time. That was 5 years ago. The clock is ticking. I am not down on myself because I have been very busy with family (4 kids in 6 years) but the time is now. If anyone out there has any ideas, let me know. Otherwise, look for Sureshot short stories and a Sureshot newsletter. Wish me luck.

Time Machine

2011-01-04T12:33:00.001-08:00

I recently watched "Hot Tub Time Machine," which was plenty funny even while using a silly concept. It was cute, had some good dry humor, through some bare boobs in to draw the 15 year olds and so was probably not the worst movie I've ever seen. For me it reminded me of how much I hate time travel as a plot point. It is one thing if you are trying to use time travel to make some sort of philosophical point. I like Christmas Carol, and Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, both which bend the rules of time, but when you use it to correct only to get the writer out of a corner he backed his self into, it is really annoying. Star Trek did it with their recent movie and it pissed me off. In Star Trek 4 they went back in time, but it was to correct a problem in the future. They went back and then forward again, and didn't travel around randomly changing the plot and course of the story as they went as well as the characters who are affected every time a change is made. It just seems lazy to me. It doesn't allow the reader to predict what might happen and not in a good way. Readers like to anticipate the next page, and like to be fooled, but also like to believe that the plot is possible. With time travel all of that is removed. You can't predict what might happen because rime travel is not based in normal human understanding. Even for the science fiction reader the plot and characters can get too complicated to follow. So I vow to never use time travel as a literary tool. Except that I have a story that features it a bit…ok, I guess you can use it, but don't expect me to like it. And "Hot Tub Time Machine" was still funny even if the idea of traveling time in a hot tub with drunken naked men is dumb.

Reform?

2010-11-26T13:18:00.001-08:00

Another excerpt from my current project on reforming education. I have finished the second chapter now and am about 7500 words into the book—a pretty good start.

So perhaps the teacher education programs are at fault? The state has gone to great pains in creating a number of standards, regulations, requirements and paperwork for a prospective teacher to accomplish but is it really helpful? Are there new teachers who are qualified or are they lacking.

It seems there is a bit of both. While I don't knock the state for its efforts to try and account for every teacher and their training, it does not seem to be making much of a difference. In fact, there have been some teachers run off because they had been teaching a subject for a number of years without the proper qualifications. Many of these people left the private sector and became teachers. Some were engineers who taught physics, or former missionaries who taught Spanish. Others were chemists or biologists who desired to teach in order to pass on the skills and expertise that they possessed. Some of them quit teaching because they were unwilling to jump through the hoops. They knew they were good teachers. Their students knew they were good teachers, but they did not have the proper credential, and rather than do what was required in order to continue their job, they left the classroom.

To be fair to the state, the new requirements were made clear and there was ample time given to complete them, but for some it didn't matter. Perhaps they only had a few more years of teaching left in them anyways before they took time to spend with grandkids and travel, but for whatever reason some left.

I don't think that this is really the problem however. Still part of me thinks that there is a lack of proper teacher training. Now any veteran teacher will tell you that things were simpler when they began and that keeping kids alive and busy was the main objective, but still there can be some improvement.

The state knows this too and is trying to compensate for the lack of training new teachers arrive with by offering a mentoring program at the schools themselves. Even knowing that and knowing that some credential programs are not as good as others, I still feel as though the schools of education are not the problem. Most seem to be doing what they, and the State of California, feel is best to prepare a new wave of teachers. After all it is not an easy thing to take a recent college graduate who has spent her entire life as a student and get her to the other side of the classroom in one year. Teaching is a challenging occupation that takes years to master and so they might be doing the best job they know how.

In the end I can excuse the schools of Education from blame, and certainly hope we can refrain from "blowing them up." The problem must lie elsewhere, so please allow me to continue exploring my own journey to nail down the problem.

Reform?

2010-11-24T08:11:00.001-08:00

Another excerpt from my current project on education:

I was in my first year of full time teaching trying to teach a group of 15 and 16 year-olds modern world history. Whether I succeeded or not is a matter for debate, but at one moment I thought about giving up. In my 8^th period, the last class of the day, I had an exchange student from Germany, who in spite of learning history in a language that was not his first managed to score higher than any of my other students. Hans, was somehow an object of desire among the female students in spite of the fact that he was highly arrogant and sarcastic. At one point one of these female students decided to ask about exchange programs even though such a question was significantly off topic, not that such a thing was unusual.

Maria's hand shot up and without waiting for me to call on her she began, "Hey Mr. B?"

Figuring that she wanted to know something about World War 2, the topic of the lesson I responded, "Yes Maria?"

She perhaps did not really even know what we were learning that day since she had spent most of the period chatting with her cousin and the exchange student. "If I want to be an exchange student, to say…England. Do I have to learn the language?"

I paused stunned by the question, but trying to spare the student's feelings I calmly answered, "Maria, they speak English."

He faced did not betray proper understanding of my answer and sure enough she wanted some clarification, "So I don't have to learn it?"

I decided to try and clarify further so I repeated, "They speak English in England."

At that point a few students had cued into the fact that this young woman was making a fool of herself. Her friend, upon hearing the laughter decided that she was in on the joke so she tried to pile on to Maria's embarrassment by adding, "Duh, of course you have to learn the language."

By now most of the other students were aware of how ludicrous this line of questioning was, but for me, I had not figured out how to get through to her without making fun of her so I repeat louder and slower as though it was a matter of volume and speed that caused this young woman to fail to understand me, "They speak English in England."

Still the girl looked confused. At last I had a new idea, "Maria, they speak English. You speak English." She nodded was the confused look fixed on her face, but I had no more time to try and illuminate her.

It was at that moment that I decided maybe the students I was getting had missed a few steps on their way to my class.

Reforming Education?

2010-11-07T08:59:00.001-08:00

Here is an excerpt from one of my current projects, on education:

I had some interesting interactions in my program that caused me to pause and try to make sense of the field into which I was heading. I was unable at the time however to gain proper perspective. One of the situations was in my class about how to teach second language learners as we call them. California especially, but other states as well have a plethora of students from a number of countries, speaking a number of languages. This poses a challenge for the teacher obviously because in any given class there may be a large proportion of students who did not grow up speaking English, and who's parents also do not speak the common tongue of this nation. In my student teaching experience, I taught a group of students who were entirely made up of second language learners. It was interesting trying to teach about the history of 20^th century America while my students had trouble understanding .

Anyways, my professor was a woman who hailed from Argentina, but had since gained a college education in the United States through a doctorate program. She was the mother of two high school students at a local school. There were several things that bothered me about her and the class. The first was that she was never on time. It was normal for us students to be assembled in the class before she arrived and then took a few minutes to set up. She dismissed this as cultural, explaining that in Argentina no one is ever on time. Interesting. The next thing that piqued my attention was that she regularly denounced the American education system as unfair for immigrants and even extended it to the nation as a whole. I found this difficult to swallow as she herself was the product of the American college system had held lofty degrees and positions in education. Furthermore she drove a luxury SUV and her daughters attended what was commonly accepted as the bourgeois high school in the area. She was always adorned with jewelry and dressed in fashionable clothes. She seemed to embody the American dream and not the American nightmare she was selling. I was getting confused.

Teaching Book

2010-10-16T06:52:00.000-07:00

I think I may need to write a book about teaching. It appears that there is a great interest in it right now as conversations about education get more intense. There are documentaries coming out about what is wrong with teaching and a great number of debates about funding unions etc. I myself find it a provocative topic, not merely because I'm a teacher, but because my first four years have been so tumultuous. I think I am going to have to write a mini memoirs about it then to share my struggles and insight with anyone who is interested in education. The challenge I have when I think about it and brainstorm what I might write is offending people I work with. On the one hand, I wouldn't be lying about them, only telling the truth as it happened, but on the other being written about in a book may make people upset. Should I care about that? Does it matter? I suppose I could write around the people and speak of things in more general terms, but that may not be as interesting. I get the sense people like conflict, and I have had a few in my short tenure as a teacher. Well, I'll keep thinking about it since I don't really have time to write it anyways. Maybe I'll even outline a bit. Or write a chapter or two. Fine, I'll write it.

Tired

2010-10-15T22:40:00.000-07:00

I am not sure how some people do it. With the addition of our fourth child in just over six years, I seem to have no time for much of anything lately. My week consists of work, children's sports practices, church and if there's time, sleep. My motivation for other things has decline dramatically. I have a number of writing projects in limbo, books unread and obviously a neglected blog, but when I have time for anything I usually choose sleep. I imagine this will change eventually as the newest baby gets a bit older and we are able to sleep through the night again. For now though it is difficult. It is lamentable because of the things I would like to get done. So many books that are still unwritten. I don't know when they will get done. For now my main priority is rest. I hope it changes soon.

Book Review: Stranger in a Strange Land

2010-07-31T12:40:00.001-07:00

This is a book I've had for a while. A friend bought it for me when I was 18 (I think; it is getting difficult to remember that far back) and for whatever reason I had not read it, but managed to hold on to it. Finally I picked it up and read the dang book. It was really good. Well written, interesting, strong characters and plot. Basically everything you would look for in a book, this one had. The story is about Michael Smith a man born on Mars to astronaut parents who is adapting to life on Earth. He has strange habits and beliefs given his martian origins and it is interesting reading about him trying to learn human behaviors and actions. Mostly humans do not make sense to him, but when he finally understands he becomes a powerful man who is messianic in nature. To further that idea he starts his own complicated church, which is a strange mixture of pagan practices and highly organized denominations. I began to get the sense that Heinlein was somewhat similar to Ayn Rand in that he was promoting personal enlightenment and responsibility and even the Randian theme of human heroes. I'll have to grok that some more. Overall it was very good, a little slow in the center of the book, but still great. I especially loved the character Jubal Harshaw the eccentric and grumpy lawyer/ writer who mentors Smith among other things. I recommend it to anyone interested in solid Sci-fi and even general fiction. It is a great read.

Don't live in darkness

2010-07-23T16:51:00.000-07:00

For better or worse I've been on a poetry tear lately. I had put poetry away for a while claiming that it was a lower writing form, and then when I was having trouble writing prose went back to it in order to practice the craft. Now I've been writing it randomly and posting some here. Well, here is another one then.

Don't Live in Darkness

Don't live in darkness,
follow the light.
Forever lost in,
the pitch black night.
So often afraid,
no need for fright.
Stay right where you are,
hold on with might.
You know someday soon,
will come your knight.

Learning

2010-07-20T08:35:00.000-07:00

I got to thinking about the upcoming school year and how I would adjust my teaching methods to improve student learning and wondered about a whole slew of things. I started to think about all the brilliant people in the world. Not just the classic scientist types but the creative minds in music and the arts, engineering and construction, medicine and even things like interior design and cosmetics. I was thinking about all of the people who are really good at what they do and I wondered how they found it.

Then I decided that they probably found their passion and uncovered their ability in spite of public education. I know I certainly didn't. I continue to lament the things I wrote in school that I took a chance on. You know, creative pieces that went beyond the assignment and took real effort. Then it made me sad because most of those were returned to me as "incomplete," "off topic," or "did not meet standard." What horrible words. In my class I try to reward effort, creativity and passion, but I fear this is not the case in most of the education world.

No. In education we focus on standards, benchmarks, tests and rubrics. Tools, we tell ourselves, that will improve student learning. Perhaps. But how does a student find his passion if he cannot stray beyond the preconceived standard? Does he have room to explore? Or is he a slave to "direct instruction model," like we have adopted on our campus? Will he love to learn or hate the worksheet, drills and endless measuring he must endure? Will school enhance his life or handicap him?

I would like to see a learning environment where students were encouraged to explore a variety of subjects in multiple ways in order to discover the God given talents and abilities and then, along with a passionate teacher, develop as a whole person and not just another test taker, another seat filler, another number in the expansive sea of faces. Can I do this in my classroom, or will I be written up for not putting daily objectives on the board, using direct instruction model and preparing my students for bench marks? I'm afraid.

Just some thoughts.

I See You

2010-07-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

You try to hide
I see you
You put up walls
I see you
You dress up
I see you
You put on a show
I see you

Seeking
Hoping
Longing
Needing
Hurting
Bleeding
Seething
Weeping

I love you
For your passion
I love you
For your caring heart
I love you
Mother, Daughter, Sister
I love you
Perfect creation of God

Irish Limerick

2010-06-28T09:29:00.000-07:00

For my next poetry form, I chose Irish Limerick. It is a simple form, but slightly more complicated than Haiku because of the necessity for rhyme. It was surprisingly more difficult than I thought. I have never found sonnets to be too challenging, and yet limerick took me a little while to master. However, I feel that in the end I wrote a few clever limericks and I'm ready to move on. Here they are for your enjoyment:

Voting

They say it's my duty to vote.
To take it serious; not joke.
Is an elephant best for the country?
Should I lend my support to a donkey?
To me they both stink like a goat.

Global Warming

I heard the earth is getting warm.
We must switch from petrol to corn.
I just can't believe the reason.
For the current warming season.
Is cars and cow farts in the morn.

Woman & Men

Women say men can't understand.
Difficulties facing woman.
But a woman will never know.
What it's like for a normal schmo
Who's wife won't give it up to her husband.

Haiku

2010-06-24T10:17:00.000-07:00

I decided to practice a few types of poetry and started with haiku because, well, it's easy. 5, 7, 5 syllables. It is supposed to be in present tense and center on natural themes. I created some haiku about random junk, enjoy.

Soccer Haiku:

Ninety Minutes long
Clash of two teams both hoping
Only one will win

Let's go USA
Ninety minutes with no goal
Ninety one shoot score

Philosophical Haiku:

What is in a man?
Love hate war peace fear courage?
Defined by actions

What is good in life?
Gold and silver will tarnish
Family survives

Sun rises and sets
Wind blows leaves fall winter comes
Spring always returns

The Hunter will stalk
the Hunted will hide or flee
Each desire life

Love Haiku:

The Wife of my youth
From the first moment we met
My heart was all yours

My lover my wife
You are the light of my world
The sun and the moon

Always my best friend
I share everything with you
You are all I need

Summer Vacation?

2010-06-23T10:52:00.000-07:00

I always look forward to summer because it is an opportunity to write and read and develop, but as usual it never seems to work out that well. So far I have spent 1 week teaching kids at Vacation Bible School (VBS) and watching the world cup (Go USA!). Not exactly productive. I have managed to finish reading a couple books, but I started them a couple months ago so I can't really count it as much of an accomplishment. I thought about writing some poetry again, only because it might help get me back into a writing mood. On a positive front, I received more encouraging feedback from folks who have read The Sureshot, but as usual it still has not translated into sales. I am waiting for another shipment of books and suspect I am going to sell a few this year because I have a more concrete plan to achieve sales. It turns out that sales are everything. Quality of work is debatable, sales are undeniable. So sales it what I'm going to focus on. That while welcoming another child into the world in a month and teaching again when school starts up. Busy. It is shocking sometimes, and a wonder I can get any writing done. We'll see how it goes this summer.

Random musings

2010-05-20T19:52:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it has been two weeks since I posted. I have been doing a decent job of keeping up with my twitter, but managing email, twitter, blogger, and facebook is exhausting. I got tired just writing that list. I have not done great writing 250 words every day. That's not to say I haven't managed to write, just not every day. So many things to do in a regular day. It would be so much more motivating if someone paid me to write. Speaking of which another play was rejected by a publisher. I would have given up by now if I hadn't read blogs of people who have been rejected hundreds of times. It is such a ridiculous business. Some make it, some don't and it doesn't seem to be based on talent. If only I was a brilliant marketer. I think I am at the point where talking about my book and scheming ways to sell more is high on my list of priorities. Nothing less will sell books. It is something I have come to terms with. Oh well, I guess I will keep writing and trust that I will be successful eventually. It does get old hearing from everyone who reads my work how good it is, and yet I have no market success to prove it.

I finally bought some generic bic pens. They are ok. I would gladly throw them out for the pens I want. I even went on the Bic web site and found that I can have them personalized for like 30 cents a pen if I buy a ton of them. I thought about it. I just don't know what I would do with 500 pens. I guess I could use them all eventually. Back to work.

Pens

2010-05-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

I have a problem. I have become very particular about what type of pen I will use. While I can tolerate inferior pens for many things, I cannot use just anything for serious writing. I hate writing in any color but black. In the army, we were only allowed to use black ink. Blue was "the air-force's color" as though only they were allowed to use it so it was black only. When I was younger (High School) I found that my hand writing sucked. It bothered me but I was never really able to figure out why it was so bad or how to make it better. I did notice however that the writing utensil made a difference. Wood pencils were good, but not mechanical ones. Pens...well...that was hit and miss. Flood or fountain pens seemed to make my penmanship worse. I took a liking to bic round pens; black. This is the only pen I like. I bought a couple packs of them a year or so ago and always managed to have a few around. A month ago I ran out. The one I was using ran dry and I was forced to find something else to write with. I thought I would eventually make it to a store to buy some more. I have been woefully disappointed. I have been completely unable to find the pen I want. Two drug stores and a target have let me down. Today I was in a CVS and found the pen I like in blue but not black. I finally broke down and bought some generic black ball point pens in the hopes that it will satisfy my need. I am not hopeful. I will let you all know if I get satisfaction. My writing career may be over if I cannot get a hold of the pen I so desire. It is that serious.

Richard Dawkins’ Special Visitors

2010-04-13T20:12:00.001-07:00

I wrote a short story about Richard Dawkins. It involves him meeting his two favorite imaginary creatures, the "invisible flying pink unicorn" and the "invisible flying spaghetti monster" (I'm not making this up). If you haven't seen the video clips of him comparing God to these two creatures they are laughable. At least the people there think it is really funny. I am not sure why believers (in whatever religion) continue to try and convince him of God because of their belief. He clearly will not be swayed by such arguments and always counters with sarcasm (humor is another of his many talents) and ridicule. After all the man has made it his recent goal to destroy people's belief in whatever god they believe in. He is very generous and nondiscriminatory when it comes to this and mocks every god from Zeus and Thor, to Jesus. He thinks they are all laughable and so he dispenses with mockery evenly. He is actually especially critical of Muslims lately, which has shockingly not drawn the ire of fellow professors, many of whom defend the faith if for no other reason, but on political correctness grounds.

So…I wrote a story about him meeting his two most common examples of silliness, the unicorn and the spaghetti monster. It is a tongue-in-cheek exercise but one I enjoyed. In the story I assert, through the two characters, that he is just as religious as anyone else, in fact more so. I contend that he has created his own religion. I put forth a number of reasons why this is so: he has his own texts, he has monetary motivations, he claims to have a monopoly on the truth, he even has his own images to worship (my two creatures). I think it is very cleaver. He will think I'm an idiot, but then he think nearly everyone is an idiot, especially people who believe in an active deity.

Oh well…I guess Dawkins doesn't need me as a parishioner, he has many thousands already, all of whom defend his belief vehemently. I'm just another moron following a make believe God after all.

If anyone would like to read the story, I will gladly send it with the expectation that you will give me feed back.

Daily Challenge

2010-04-11T11:39:00.001-07:00

I have decided to try and take on a daily writing challenge. I discovered such a thing surfing around and reading other people's blogs and I decided that it was high time I do the same. I have generally not written daily, but rather in spurts. I may not write anything for two weeks, then write 5000 words all in one day. This is not necessarily bad or good, it is just how I operated. However, at least for the time being, I would like to be more disciplined in my craft. This should not only up my production, but increase my skill. I really need to focus on writing right now as I make another go at being a successful writer.

There is a community of people engaging in a daily writing challenge and so I am just following them. To make it easy on myself, I am starting with the smallest daily level I found, 250 words. Normally when I start I write well more than 250 words, but then so be it. My goal is not to write a lot, but to write every day. If I can get into a better habit of writing then I have succeeded.

I was thinking over why I don't write every day and I usually fall back on business. But everyone is busy! I think if I just cut out a few things, carry a notebook and pen around with me all the time, and hold myself accountable, I should be able to make my goal every day. I hope anyone reading this Blog will do the same.

With that said, this post is already 286 words. Done for the day? I hope not.

Living Water

2010-04-07T12:08:00.000-07:00

For the Easter play this year I wrote a script that circled around the theme of water and also the woman that Jesus meets at the well in Samaria. I think this is such an interesting interaction because it is so relevant. The woman has been divorced five times. That is bad in our day-and-age, let alone 2000 years ago. She is also living with a guy who is not her husband! Yet Jesus looks into her soul and has mercy on her. He offers her grace. He describes it as living water, and talks about the spirit of God and how no one will thirst when filled with the spirit. Of course he was talking about a spiritual thirst, but the water metaphor is powerful since all of us need water. For the first time in a while there were a lot of female roles in the play. It is especially hard to have a lot of female roles when doing a time play about Easter because it usually contains Jesus and the 12 disciples. There's 13 men already! This play allowed me to create mostly female roles with only a couple disciples and Jesus as main male parts. The cast performed it beautifully! I could scarcely imagine it being better. They even filled in where my script probably fell short. I was very proud, and it was a huge blessing to see my work performed. God willing, there will be many more plays to report on. As it is, this is number five. I am already working on the next two.

Spring Break Break Down

2010-04-06T11:42:00.001-07:00

So I had high hopes for Spring Break. I thought I could get a bunch of things done around the house, for school, and writing wise. My family was all sick but not me so I thought I could still be productive. Everyone was coughing. We all went to the doctor on Tuesday. My wife had bronchitis; the kids were getting over sinus infections or something. Me? Tip-top. Then Wednesday night the younger two started throwing up. Again and again. I lost count how many times they barfed (partly because I didn't get up for all of them apparently). Then Friday, my oldest child threw up. Needless to say productivity came to a screeching halt. Our days consisted mostly of laying on the couch and watching TV or playing Wii. Then Sunday night I got sick. I threw-up a few times and suffered through a horrible night. So here I am on Tuesday. My wife is working, the kids are better (I guess) and I am feeling a bit better. Will I get something done? We'll see. So much for a productive break. I'd rather be working.

Jurassic Park

2010-04-02T13:48:00.001-07:00

I finished reading Jurassic Park a few weeks back after borrowing (sort of) the book from my Opa. He loves Crichton and after reading the book I too am impressed. It moved well, was entertaining and also interesting. It combined not just the engaging plot, but also grappled with some hot issues, namely the Earth and our interaction with it. I often tell my students that I have two real fears; things that I think jeopardize our existence on this planet. They are robots and genetic engineering. Maybe I have seen too many sci-fi movies but those two things scare me more than anything else because I see in them the flaws of humans magnified. All of our pride and vanity could be manifest in either robots or genetic engineering because our highest aim in either of those is to be god-like. For all we can do, we cannot create life, at least not life that didn't already exist. Maybe I mean that we cannot create new life. So I see both of these endeavors to be motivated by a desire to be like God. That scares me. Jurassic Park tackles this folly. In the book, of course, it ends up being a bad idea to try and bring back dinosaurs, as cool as it might be, because we cannot control them. This is made supremely evident, and Crichton did a good job of creating characters who clearly wanted to be god-like.

In the end I was very satisfied with where the book went. My favorite character ends up being Ian Malcolm, who in the movie was also good, though as well as he was portrayed in film, I liked his book character even more. He understood the flaw of mankind and expressed it in his mathematical "chaos theory." It was ironic because some of the other characters accused him of being arrogant, and yet they were the ones trying to recreate life that had died out long ago. My favorite line in the book comes from him near the end and fully describes how I feel:

"Let's be clear. The planet is not in jeopardy. We are in jeopardy. We haven't got the power to destroy the planet—or to save it. But we might have the power to save ourselves."

I love this line. This get's at one of my core beliefs—we are not that important. I laugh every time I see a "save the planet" bumper sticker, or hear about global warming because I believe that, as Ian Malcolm stated, we are not significant enough to destroy or save the planet. What we really mean is we are messing it up for us. Fine. But the planet? We couldn't create it, and we can't destroy it. We are not God, though some people apparently think we have his power. I however, do not, and apparently Crichton agrees with me.

Spring Break

2010-03-31T19:13:00.001-07:00

With Spring Break finally here I have some time to write. Already I have scratched a couple things off my list. First I organized all of my writing into a few categories which is helpful for when I'm trying to find something: poems, short stories, plays, free writing, books. I am usually working on a few things at any given time, so organization is important to me. I also managed to rewrite the plays I've written for my church in an effort to sell them. Only recently did I learn the play writing format and so I had to take some time to re-write them. I feel better now that it's done. The last thing I have to figure out is what to write this break. A few days are gone already, but there is still time. Here are some of my options.

Book: Sureshot 3 (not the real title). I really didn't want to work on this until I have sold Sureshot 2, which is not going that well, but I love the story, and it might be helpful to finish it because I could move on to something else. It is a good story and I have written about 10% of it here and there and would like to get it done. That said the prospects of finding a buyer for it are basically nil since I've not sold the second one yet.
Book: Blood Aliance. This story is about (Please don't judge) zombies. I know they are overdone but I like them. Again I've written about 10-20% of this story already and it would be nice to finish. I don't think the prospects of me selling the book are high given the current flood of similar stories, but I think it could work. Besides, I love the premise.
Book: French Revolution. I started a story last spring that followed a character in the French Revolution. I intended to use the narrative to teach the French Rev in class with the hope of developing a broader collection of stories that could be used in a high school class. I feel like I need to rewrite the story because I wonder if it would be better as a bunch of newspaper articles rather than a narrative, but still it is something that is fun and potentially useful in my classroom.

Well those are the books I've already been working on and need finishing. Let me know if you have an opinion as to which one I should focus my attention.

Short Story: Jiminey Cricket's Performance Evaluation

2010-03-19T19:43:00.000-07:00

I decided that in order to continue to move towards an actual writing career, it was important to write every week. So I give myself a specific assignment every week and so far I have managed to write something each week and build on the myriad of writing I have stored up just waiting for someone interested in paying me for it.

Recently I wrote a short story entitled "Jiminey Cricket's Performance Evaluation." It is very tongue in cheek of course, but I had a couple goals in writing the piece that I hope came through. The first was that after hearing Pinocchio a dozen times as my kids watch it over and over again, I decided that Jiminey is probably one of the worst consciences ever. He doesn't really manage to do anything right the entire film. He is a failure from start to finish, and yet at the end he gets a little medal and promoted?!?! Terrible. The second thing I was hoping to poke fun at is human resources. I get evaluated every year by someone at the school, and it has been someone different every year, and the whole process of evaluating is rife with waste. It is another bureaucratic tool for wasting every one's time.

I thought it would be funny if the famous Cricket had to go through the same process. Well the piece is decent. It accomplished the things I hoped it would, and is entertaining enough as well. I have a few more short story ideas that I might pick for my weekly writing goal. I don't think I'll post it hear, but if anyone is interested in the piece, let me know.

Book Review: The Shack

2010-02-17T19:59:00.000-08:00

The third book I read over the Christmas vacation was The Shack. It was absolutely amazing. Brandi read it first and then spilled coffee on it, but it was great. I started reading it first thing in the morning and was a little hesitant to embrace it. The writing critic in me was coming out and I was complaining about how the book didn't really hook me at first and was slow to develop, but not long into it I was hooked and then didn't stop until I finished which was only later that night. I seriously couldn't put it down. Brandi had the opposite experience where she was hit with concepts that she felt were so heavy she needed time to digest them. It will certainly spark some conversation if you consider the subtle and not-so-subtle implications. In a word it was moving. I highly recommend it!!!

Book Review: Bold Fresh

2010-02-15T22:07:00.000-08:00

Ok so I love politics. I hate it also but I can't seem to get enough of it so I find myself in a paradoxical position of being fond of something that also makes me mad. That said I enjoy Bill O'Rielly above all others on regular news programs. I find him honest and fair in his analysis. There are things he dislikes to be sure and he makes that known on his program but he allows others to say their perspective in spite of his own position. So my mother gave me some of his books for Christmas knowing both my affinity for books and passion for politics. On of them was Bold Fresh Piece of Humanity. It was good. I had even more respect for the man after the book because he truely is a man of principle and it shows in his show and his life story. It wasn't an autobiography in the classic (chronilogical) sense, but rather thematic. He worked through issues that we see face on a regular basis and how he responded to them in his life. Besides all that, he is funny. I mean, sometimes he is really funny. It was an enjoyable read and in a way inspiring. Thanks for the book mom.

Book Review: Quest for Lost Heroes

2010-01-22T17:12:00.000-08:00

Over the break I read three books and I thought it worth while to share my opinion of each. The first I read when I came down with flu on Christmas Eve. I had begun the book prior to that but spending the better part of the day in bed aforded me much time in order to read. I finished it in that day. It was The Quest for Lost Heroes by David Gemmell who's work I try to emulate. He is such a talented fantasy writer and writes in a style similar to mine. Though we still differ greatly, not the least of which is his success versus mine, we have similar fantasy models. I don't like magic and apparently neither does he. I modeled my fantasy world after real cultures and apparently so did he. The book is about heroes, as are most of his works, and so are mine. I love it. He inspires me to continue writing fantasy.

This book is another great example of his powerful prose. He weaves a tale of old heroes who have all fallen on, well, different times. While all are still praised for their efforts none feels the same about the battle in which they held off a barbarian hord. They go on what is sure to be a fool's quest to rescue a maiden from slavers and, as it turns out, the barbarian king. It is action packed and even includes more of the play by play fighting than he usually writes. I loved it. I couldn't wait to reach the end which always seems...perfect in Gemmell's books. I only hope that one day I can write as well as he.

Play Write

2010-01-22T17:07:00.000-08:00

After some reflection and a bit of reading and writing I have decided to try and sell the plays I've written for our church's Christmas and Easter programs over the last couple years. I have four that have been performed and another couple written. At first I was worried that there was not much of a market for Christan plays but after some research I found publishers willing to buy plays. It may not be as wide a market as novels but it exists and I have some so I thought I would try my luck. I have confidence in my work and have received strong feedback from those who watched them. At this point I suppose it makes sense because I already have a catalogue of plays and only two manuscripts for novels. I wonder if I should even dabble in the short story market in order to build a resume worthy of consideration. Time will tell whether this goes anywhere. I have high hopes.

Reflection on 2009

2009-12-31T16:10:00.000-08:00

With 2009 closing I have a lot of things to think about. This year it was my goal to secure an agent. Mission failed. While at times I temporarily gave up so as to not be over depressed about rejection, I still hoped to find someone willing to represent me. I am still confident that I will be a full time writer, that I will find a publisher for Sureshot the Assassin and that I will have a long and successful writing career; but not this year. Thumbs down on finding an agent.

I am pleased that I have maintained a blog for this long. At times I have gone a month without a post, but as I look around the net, this seems common. I have managed to continue posting even when no one is reading. If nothing else it is an exercise in perseverance. Thumbs up for the blog.

When it comes to writing I have written a lot this year but not finished anything. This is a little disconcerting because I can't sell anything that isn't finished. I have a number of promising projects, but that's all. Aside from Sureshot the Assassin I have nothing to offer the market. I have to work on that next year. Thumbs down for finished work.

When it comes to a fore mentioned work, Sureshot the Assassin, I am pleased that it has gone through a semi-professional edit and came out better than ever. People who have read it, love it, and I think it is a good piece. Actually that is what frustrates me the most. I have a good book that I can't get anyone who could buy it to even sniff at it. Still, thumbs up on Sureshot the Assassin going through an edit.

Play writing this year was probably my biggest writing accomplishment. I wrote the Easter play "Between two thieves" which went fine, and then the Christmas play "Take me to your Leader" which in my humble opinion, was epic. I continue to get encouragement and motivation to pursue writing. I also have a vague hope of publishing my plays eventually. This in turn could lead to further writing success. So big thumbs up on play writing.

I'm going to stop now while I'm a net thumbs up. Overall, I could have done better, but then I never expected things to be easy. As long as I continue to love writing and have things to write about I will continue to have a positive attitude about it. We'll see what 2010 has in store for me. Prost.

Take me to your Leader

2009-12-27T16:25:00.001-08:00

I wrote the Christmas play again this year and decided to write a comedy. It was a challenge but in the end came out great. I added the three Star Trek characters to the play as a parody and made them the three "wise" men, or "wiseguys" as we were. It was a lot of fun, and more importantly it worked. My church is working on uploading the play to the Internet so when it's there I hope people will take a look. I am proud of it because it was clever and yet effective. The message was there and it entertained everyone who saw. This one will be hard to top.

Christmas Vacation

2009-12-27T16:05:00.001-08:00

With a few days off hopefully I can get some writing done. I have a few things on the agenda. I have to write the Easter program before I go back. I have a few things in mind so it should only take a couple days. I would like to finish a short story I started about Pinocchio or more specifically his conscience Jiminy Cricket. My kids have been watching it lately and he is the crappiest conscience ever, and yet he got a medal. So I decided to write a story about his performance review. It is fun. Also I would love to continue writing a story I started this year. I have about half a dozen working titles, but it has zombies. Very fun. Oh and the ever popular vampires. I know I've been playing too much Resident Evil. Lastly, I have new motivation to write the final Sureshot installment. I have the plot pretty much worked out I only need to get it done. Of course I would love to get the second one in print before that but I can only control so much. Searching for agents is on my list of things to work on as well. Shot I just realized that I only have two more weeks until school is back in session. I better get started.

Thanksgiving story

2009-11-26T11:52:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite Thanksgiving stories is when Samoset the first native to greet the pilgrims does so for the first time. I decided to recreate it in micro because I enjoy it so much. I don't know the names of the men Samoset met first so I will guess. Enjoy.

It was a warm and inviting day in March, a welcomed condition given the difficult winter the pilgrims endured their first days in their new home, Plymouth. The Pilgrims were busy with their daily tasks: gathering wood, tending to soil, preparing what meager meals they could, mending and building structures. The main structure, the church, stood as a monument to God's Providence in their lives. Unwelcome in their own homeland they sought a new chance. God gave them that opportunity, as he does when a person is saved, they were given new life.

Their new home was beautiful, but foreign. Wild and untamed the land was nothing like the terrain they knew in England. It was lush but unpredictable; it offered life and threatened death. They survived there only by God's grace and they thanked Him constantly for it. Still, they looked for new assurance of his blessing so that they could rest knowing that they would not be erased from the world and forgotten like other colonies before them.

On this day just such a sign strolled into town. While everyone went about their work as they did every day a native of the tribe Abenaki walked down the only street in town as though the colony had always been there and he was welcomed their openly. The people stared in awe as this "savage" paraded alone past the homes that were strange to him in their rows toward the center of town which was of course, the church.

His name was Samoset, second in command in his tribe. He had a strong gait, striking long black hair, a mere loin cloth around his middle and he did not even bother to return the stares that the pilgrims gave him. Some hid their children though they could not be prevented from watching the visitor from windows and cracks in doors.

The men at last headed him off and halted Samoset before he entered their church which was clearly the main building. Samoset was on a mission to make contact with the leader of the colony, the normal diplomatic thing to do, but the pilgrims would have been horrified had a heathen entered their church. Once halted they sized each other up a moment—Samoset not intimidated by the Englishmen. Why should he be? He was in his land, though the pilgrims had moved in. He and his tribe had watched with interest as they erected buildings and suffered through the winter. Many thought they would not survive, as other "visitors" had perished in the new land. These somehow endured the winter, so they deserved to know who their neighbors were. With these motives, Samoset looked into the eyes of the English pilgrims and said something that shocked the socks off of everyone there, "Welcome."

Samoset knew English! He told them that they were in the land of a tribe that had died of plague a few years earlier so that none of the natives cared too much of the choice in their settlement's location. He wanted beer, having been given some by the fishermen who frequented the region and taught him some English. Samoset gave them a lot of information on the tribes nearby and later brought them Squanto, who would prove to be a gift from God because without him it is unlikely that they would have survived. The pilgrims gave the visitor gifts, a bracelet, a knife and a ring. This meeting is historic and momentous.

I am struck by the amazing events that surround the Plymouth colony. They believed that God guided them to their new home and that he watched over them carefully. Surely no other early settlement was as successful as this one, though it was not without challenges. As I celebrate Thanksgiving, the holiday that they inspired, I trust as they did that God is alive in me and has a plan for my life.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T10:42:00.000-08:00

Thank you Lord for all you've given me. Help me to use your gifts to glorify you and advance your kingdom. Forgive me for my selfish pride, for my failures and my sin. Take it from me so I may be near you. On this day I give you thanks for your love, forgiveness and grace. It is all about you. Let your light shine for the whole world to see. Amen.

Query

2009-11-13T17:07:00.001-08:00

In an attempt to get some feedback on my query I have decided to post the gist of it here. I have written about half a dozen queries for the Sureshot 2 (as I'm still calling it) but none have secured representation. Maybe someone will have some advice on how to improve it. Still I am moving on and trying to complete another story to peddle that one in the hopes of breaking into what appears to be a tough industry.

Who is the Sureshot? Is he a hero or a paid assassin? Unfortunately even he does not know the answer.

My novel, Sureshot the Assassin is 100,000 words of adventure fantasy. It is character driven and yet full of action. At its core it is about identity and how environment and people shape who we are. Durbar the Sureshot rose to stardom because of his amazing skill with a bow. He became a champion out of isolation and obscurity. His family's history tripped him up however and through a series of events he was forced to serve as an assassin or face a worse fate. Reluctant and yet effective he eventually had to come to discover who he really was and own that identity, or risk permanently being an assassin. As he found out however, quitting is not always an option.

The story twists and turns, involves mysterious family dynamics and good old fashion adventure. It appeals to a young audience and also fans of adventure or fantasy.

I am a history teacher who studied at Fresno Pacific University and am in my third year as a high school teacher. I have been writing for years and this is my second completed novel. The first was publish with Tate Publishing, and I retain the rights to that work. Beside writing novels I had an article published in New Man a now online (was print) publication. I also take pride in writing the Christmas and Easter plays my church performs for the last three years

Record Rejection

2009-11-02T19:07:00.001-08:00

After posting my big hurrah about how I am going to get back in the fight and try to find an agent I was rejected. Not only rejected but in record time. 40 minutes to be exact. I know…I was shocked too. It was almost depressing if it wasn't comical. I replied to the agent to try to get some feed-back as to what I am doing wrong, since I am convinced that I am doing something wrong. So far it's been four days and she has not responded. I am disappointed about the lack of response to my plea for help only because rejection was so swift. I hope that it does not become an indictment on the industry that rejection is in surplus and advice scarce. I still can't believe it…40 minutes…I am not even exaggerating.

Back in the fight

2009-10-29T17:12:00.001-07:00

Ok I thought I had given up. I was so tired of emailing agents just to wait around for a negative response or no response at all. It was depressing. I really thought I was done. It has been a full four years since The Sureshot came out and I have not found a publisher for my second book. It makes me want to give up. Then someone encourages me and I get a second (or third, or fourth, or tenth) wind. Again it was students. I sold a few books to them after some were interested and they really liked it. Of course they did. I have had very little negative feedback. Normally I would question their sincerity but with teenagers I have no doubts because they rarely spare anyone's feelings. One said I looked like Hitler today. Still it is tough shaking the feeling that all my effort is in vain. They are really excited about a story I was working on this summer, but I think it is because they all want me to create a character based on them. Tonight's goal…send more queries, and pray someone takes an interest.

Not Giving Up

2009-09-20T11:50:00.001-07:00

It was a tough summer for me in regard to writing. I did not land an agent yet and it is bothering me more than it should perhaps. I almost gave up. About a week ago I was sitting at my computer ready to write my resignation letter. Then I was encouraged by my students. Some of them told me that they loved my book and couldn't wait to read more. This was all I needed. I doubt sometimes as I have not been blessed with endless confidence in myself, but when I am reassured by others I can keep going. Perhaps it is a character flaw, but what can I do? Nevertheless, I still feel like I have enough talent and potential to be a successful writer. I need to hone my craft, and learn to market myself better, but ultimately I still believe that I will get there. Where ever "there" is. Ultimately I know that it takes faith more than anything, and I still have some. We'll see where I am in a few more months, but until then I am going to wake up every day with the mindset that my future is in writing. That's where I'm at, and that's where I'm going. For better or worse.

Dress Up

2009-08-09T23:15:00.001-07:00

I am an amateur psychologist. I am especially interested in child psychology having three children and being a high school teacher. They are a fascinating breed, both the little ones and the not so little ones. One topic that I am interested in is the nature v. nurture argument that I imagine will never be settled. Like most people, I think that there are strong elements of nature in children, but they are amazingly susceptible to molding it seems so I cannot deny a nurture component. When it comes to the genders I am highly opposed to the idea that we as parents and a society instill basic gender roles on our children. To further my understanding of the topic, I am conducting an ongoing case study in my home. Here is one piece of evidence.

My son is a warrior. From birth he has been different from his older sister who is a mere 18 months his senior. There is something in him that compels him to hit things, throw things, smash things and build things. Few of the toys his sister had held his interest unless they could be fashioned into something that could be used for the afore mentioned purposes. It is fascinating for me to watch. For instance I have seen him put on one of his sister's princess dresses. Naturally his older sister wants to play dress up, and since he was not really at the dress up age yet he had none of his own. Instead he came around the corner in a princess dress. Seeing my son wearing a dress, I had a serious decision to make, and one that could heavily impact the nurture side of the argument if I were to respond poorly. I chose to act as though it were perfectly acceptable because I figured he was far too young to be embarrassed about it and punishing him seemed completely idiotic. I let it be as the Beatles song goes. It turned out it was the right choice. Once dressed up, his sister handed him a magic wand. Not a magic one like Gandalf (Lord of the Rings) would have, but a princess wand that one might associate with, well…fairies. I was slightly more concerned but had already committed to seeing how this would play out without my interference. I watched…admittedly nervous. Would he twirl and spin? Would he sprinkle magic fairy dust on things? Would he hope a prince saved him and gave him true love's first kiss? The outcomes were unnerving. Alas I was spared the more controversial results. With a princess dress on and a magic wand in his hand, my son proceeded to try and whack his sister with the bejeweled wand as though it were not a wand at all but a club instead. I sighed and smiled. His sister ran in terror afraid of the savage attack. He chased her making crashing sounds with his mouth as he pretended to club her with his wand. At that moment I saw the scene from a different point of view. I no longer saw my son in a beautiful, elaborate princess dress accessorized by a jeweled wand, I saw a savage warrior in a kilt wielding a club and engaged in a primitive battle for survival. He has not changed my image of him one iota since that day. Score one for nature. You can put a dress on a boy, but he still wants to smash things.

All You Need is Love

2009-07-30T12:42:00.001-07:00

Just a little poem for anyone interested.

To not have to worry about money or wealth,
To never have problems with sickness or health,
If food was free, and there was plenty for me,
If the world was at peace, and there was oil in the East,
It would be nice.

But everything is literally uncontrollable.
It is a nice dream, and an immense goal.
It’s not something that will change overnight.
Hopefully someday we can live in an utopia,
But until then we must survive,
And keep our hopes alive.
So to walk down the long and winding road,
All you need is love.
Everything else is lace on the tapestry of life.

Book Review: East of Eden

2009-07-23T10:26:00.001-07:00

Besides spending time relaxing on vacation for the first time this summer, I have been doing a little reading. I just finished East of Eden by John Steinbeck. Let me say first that I love Steinbeck. Although he has radical tendencies sometimes, and I do not always support some of the statements he makes with his writing, he is an excellent author. In this book he built an elaborate story around the creation story, but more so the story of Cain and Able. On this theme he compared and contrasted the brotherly dynamic and their propensity to sin, and their desire to be loved by God or their father in this case. It was amazing how he used believable and deep characters to retell the story so many people are familiar with, while adding his own commentary about sin, religion, family and people. I loved it. It was of course very dark as a bit depressing as his writing often is, but still gripping. I am not sure I will add it among my favorite books since Tortilla Flat also by Steinbeck already resides there, but I definitely give it a thumbs up.

Summer Time

2009-06-26T23:15:00.000-07:00

Summer is here and I was disappointed to count out the number of weeks I had off and come up with a paltry 6. I know I sound selfish because very few other occupations allow you that much time off, but still I was hoping for more. Besides that, this is the first summer in which having kids is going to use up much of my time. I wrote The Sureshot while watching Madelyn, Sureshot 2 with Madelyn and Elijah around. But with Madelyn, Elijah and Olivia, and them all getting older and more demanding of my time, things might be different. I am not sure what I wrote last summer except for a bunch of lessons for my world history class, but this summer is definitely going to be a struggle. So far we have filled our time with Vacation Bible School, summer reading classes for Madelyn at Fresno State, and karate (both mine and Elijah's). Next week there are swim lessons, and more reading classes. We actually made a calender and posted it in the kitchen so that we could keep up with all the things we needed to do on a daily basis. It is a bit exhausting. Still I have managed to nearly complete the Christmas play and I am way ahead of schedule on that. After that I think I will put a bit more polish on Sureshot 2 then move on to another writing project. Which one is any one's guess. I would love to write the third Sureshot story, but it might serve me well to work on something different. I have loads of stories I summarized and feel I can dive into. Maybe I will create a survey and let people help me decide what to write. That would be fun, let people help me choose the next story. I am passionate about so many things that sometimes I cannot even choose which to pursue. Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying your summer, and hopefully it is not as busy as mine. Ciao.

Monopoly

2009-06-24T18:33:00.000-07:00

I don't need to say any more than....I dominated. There was a brief discussion over which game was more impressive to win at. I suggested that monopoly was the best because it represented business smarts. Then Brandi reminded me that I can't spell, so I stopped arguing. Still....dominated.

Scrabble

2009-06-21T19:55:00.001-07:00

I suck at scrabble. The other night I suggested that Brandi and I play because I was tired of watching TV. It had been a while and I do not think I have ever defeated her at the game, but if I remembered correctly the last game was surprisingly close so I took my chances. My Scrabble woes are multi faceted. Firstly I am a poor speller. I feel like I am getting better but when I was in the midst of my foreign language studies I could hardly construct an English word properly. This stems from the fact that I was learning to write in other languages, and the fact that Slavic and especially Serbian has an alphabet wherein every letter makes only one sound. It is brilliant really and if there was a vote today on switching to Serbian as a primary language I would vote yeah. I can't stand the letter C for instance. C is the most irrelevant letter in our alphabet in my estimation. It makes either an S or a K sound. When combined with other letters it manages a new sound like CH but we could make a new letter for that sound, or adopt (as in the case of Serbian) C for the CH sound. I digress.

My other problem with Scrabble is that I am creative. When I get a word in my head (and I am apt to create large words) I find a way to make it work. A creative way. I will scramble letters until I find a way to make a word that I want. It may be by dropping a double consonant, or by changing vowels so that the word still sounds the same phonetically. To me that is all I want. I want the word to sound the same, even if it is not technically correct. Brandi disagrees. She insists that I spell the word correct or she penalizes me and makes me remove my word. Harsh I know. So after the third word I had rejected, I gave up, threw a bit of a tantrum and called quit. It was disgraceful really. I should have done the right thing, continued to play even though I was getting smashed, and taken the loss like a man, but I overreacted when my third word was revealed to be a non-word. All my frustration came to a head when I was trying to spell the word ghost. When I typed it just now I had no problem spelling it, but on my board I did not have an "h". So I tried to improvise by spelling it goest. Why not? It sounds right. Ultimately I knew that it was incorrect and Brandi was nice enough to confirm that before I embarrassed myself further by trying to lay goest down as a word. So then I tried to throw down the word geist as in poltergeist. I accidentally switched the center letters however spelling giest, which brought an objection from Brandi. I lost it. At now my third incorrect word I could not handle it and quit after a bit of a tirade. I admit it was childish.

So, I suck at Scrabble. Next time I am going to suggest Monopoly. Now that is a game.

Getting an A

2009-06-04T19:35:00.001-07:00

I did a border line unethical thing. Ok it is definitely unethical and I am sorry, but in the grand scheme of things it is much better than having a relationship with a student or being drunk on the job or something like that. I wrote a sonnet for a student. I know! I shouldn't have! It was wrong! If you can find it in you to let me explain, then perhaps you can see your way to forgiving me.

There is an English teacher on campus with a reputation for being hard. He teaches seniors only and gives them a lot of work. One day a student in my Econ class was complaining because she felt like there was no way she could write a sonnet. I dismissed her complaint by stating that sonnets are not all that difficult and that I had written several. She persisted and explained how there was a pattern to them and that each line had to be 10 syllables. I reiterated my position that there were not that hard, but she did not back down and we were at an impasse.

To settle the dispute she issued a challenge. She said that if I was so good, I could write a sonnet for her. I, being a writer and confident in my sonnet writing skills, did not back down. I said that I could do it no problem. Having accepted the challenge I asked the class for topics. Hotdogs, spam, and pirates, were among the topics that made the list. I chose pirates as my topic.

I assigned my students their work for the day which involved them reading then responding to some questions about trade or something, and sat down to write a pirate sonnet. Armed with the Shakespearian sonnet pattern I began. In fifteen minutes or so I was finished. I grinned confident that I had won the challenge. I feel as though I wrote an excellent sonnet and announced to the class that I had finished. Many did not believe that I had actually created one in such a short time span having spent hours on their own. I then read it to the class. There was applause and I smiled widely brimming with pride. The girl who issued the challenge asked repeatedly if each line was indeed ten syllables so I gave it to her to verify. She did so and the sonnet was intact. There was more adoration. Then I was put in an awkward position that I myself walked into. The student wanted the sonnet.

I did not intend to actually do work for a student, but she had challenged me to write her a sonnet with the implied intention of turning in the work I produced. I did not want to allow it however finding it unethical and to complicate the situation further there were more students who then wanted me to write them a sonnet. Students were petitioning me for sonnets immediately and shouting out topics while my head spun. In the end I chose a middle ground. I gave the student the pirate sonnet and declined to write any more.

I was then anxious to know what I got on the sonnet. It had been ten years since a poem of mine had been submitted for evaluation. Eventually she told me that it received an A, but to make things more uncomfortable, the teacher took her aside to compliment her pirate sonnet. I debated telling the teacher, but did not want to put everyone involved in an embarrassing position. The student would likely have her work erased, I would have to explain the whole situation and risk damaging a relationship with a respected colleague, and the teacher would potentially be embarrassed for praising her, or rather, my work. So I kept quiet.

It was wrong, I know, but I am still rather proud to have received an A. It was like being in senior English all over again. Here is the controversial sonnet for your judgement.

Pirates swinging in the rigging up high

I'm deafened by the loud booming of guns

Cannon balls and debris falls from the sky

Battle raging on, had only begun

Swords clinging and clanging, wanting to run

All around the ship, is nothing but sea

Death all around me my body is numb

My efforts are vain with nowhere to flee

Brave sailors all dying shown no mercy

The ship over taken, the battle lost

The pirates laugh and cheer with evil glee

One handsome and tall, apparently boss

Captured and made a pirate captain's queen

Together we sail the oceans wide and green

Getting Older

2009-06-02T20:16:00.001-07:00

May was a busy month. My daughter turned 5, I turned 29, my wife turned...well...she had a birthday. I was rejected by another agent (3 total), we suffered two plagues (swine flu, and bubonic plague) and I guess I worked somewhere in there. I managed to do some writing. Mostly I continued to polish Sureshot 2, but I also worked on a new project.

As I get closer to thirty I take stock on what I have accomplished and I am not ashamed. I have done a lot in 29 years. I would love to add best selling author to the list, but so far that remains on my list of things to do. Still I have studied 3 foreign languages while serving 5 years in the army. I have been married 7 years (nearly 8), and helped create 3 beautiful children. I have had a book published and written another. I finished a bachelors in arts, and the teaching credential program. I have taught history and economics for two years, as well as Sunday school. I have written 3 Christmas/Easter plays, and am working on 4 and 5. I have served as a deacon, and brought a few people to Christ. Over all, not bad for 29 years of life. I have more to do, but I am trying to be patient and keep things in perspective.

Here's a toast to life, more birthdays, and more accomplishments. Prost!

Wimp

2009-05-12T15:22:00.001-07:00

I realize I’ve something lacking.
You say it is my gut relaxing.
I believe it’s my mind still turning.
That stops my heart always burning.
If you lose patience and move on,
I cannot blame you for your action.
I’m a wimp and a coward at that.
All I’ve done so far is sat.
But please remember my lack of time,
That I’ve invested in women divine.
For surely I will come around.
I just pray that when I do it’s you I’ve found.

In Flight

2009-05-12T15:21:00.001-07:00

More old Poetry

Flying,
through the dark black sky.
Soaring,
over the tiny world below.
Gliding ,
across huge, crushing, currents.
Sailing,
with the endless wind.
Darting,
past great flashes of lightning.
Skimming,
the thin atmosphere.
Floating,
on the tranquil white clouds.
Living,
everyday, one at a time.
Changing,
with the unpredictable weather.

It will take you where you want to go.

Calling All Agents

2009-04-23T16:46:00.001-07:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post I am looking for an agent. I was so enthusiastic after The Sureshot was published with relative ease that I thought I had my writing career moving. While I still think that is true, I am faced with a few new realities. The first is the real possibility that my book is not as good as I think it is. This is hard to swallow, but I am comforted knowing that it is my first work and I am young enough to polish my writing to hopefully reach a level more impressive. The second is that the world of literature is much tougher to succeed in than I thought. It seems it is not enough to write well. You need to write well, find an agent who agrees that you write well, then improve the work you already spent hours on, then your agent has to convince a publisher that you write well. Then, I think, you have made it as a write, but to be honest I am not sure yet. I definitely should not have sailed this ship with a wife and three kids aboard. As it is however the ship has sailed and I do not want to turn back yet. So I am looking for an agent. I really need an agent because I don't know what I am doing when it comes to publishers. I need an editor. I need a book deal so I can invest more time into writing. I am torn however because I do not want to settle for any agent but really want to find one who knows what the heck they are doing. I signed up for "the Writer's Market" again so I can search lists of agents and find their contact information. This is helpful, but realistically there are only about 10 to 20 agents that I think could represent me. What is they don't think my manuscript is worthwhile? Should I give up? I don't know if I can. I know that so far this has largely been a poorly rewarded use of time, but I love it anyways. (Sigh) If only I could be compensated for loving something. So…know a good agent?

Why Fantasy?

2009-04-19T21:06:00.001-07:00

I am in the process of finding an agent if one is willing. It is a laborious and slow process full of frustration and disappointment. All that and I have only been rejected by one agent thus far. I am not looking forward to doing this for long and I pray that I will find the one right for me soon. In this process however I was forced to reflect on my manuscript. One agency I scouted had an interesting page of information about why it is that they choose to represent writers. Their words were strong (in more ways than one), but made me think about my own work. I reflected on The Sureshot. Firstly I rethought (as I have a thousand times) whether it is a worthwhile piece. I still think it is. Then I thought about why I chose to write fantasy. Was it because I was young and into Dungeons and Dragons? Was I influenced by movies I watched? Was it because of some unfulfilled need deep inside me? Or was it something else? In the end, I think that fantasy offers the writer and the reader something that is hard to find in regular fiction. I believe that fantasy allows for the fantastic (hence the name). It is not constrained by reality. In fiction there is always a challenge making something believable. I read Kite Runner and although I thoroughly enjoyed the book, I was a little suspicious of the events leading to the climax of the book as they spiraled into an ever more elaborate tale. While it is natural that odd or unusual stories make up the bulk of fiction, sometimes it seems to go too far. In fantasy it is a challenge to go too far. It is possible mind you, but when you are not limited by human constraints or natural laws, anything is feasible. That is what I love about fantasy. What I don't love about much of the genre is the lack of humanity. I believe that fantasy needs to be human at its core. Good fantasy says something about mankind at its core. That is what I want to accomplish in my writing. My first goal was to make The Sureshot interesting, the second was to help the reader to identify with Durbar (the main character). It was not enough for me to entertain—I want to make a statement, or at least an observation. That is what I believe about fantasy, and that is why I write in the genre. What I need to do is show agents and then publishers that I am capable of this, and I am sure that they will find it worthwhile to work with me.

Going Down

2009-04-10T18:53:00.000-07:00

Another poem. I would love to have something else to post right now, but aside from spending a lot of time shuttling my kids around and trying to get a few things of the Honey-Do list, I have been writing a novella for use in my World History Class. So...another poem...

A soft sweet rain falls on my face,
I never want to leave this tranquil place,
A breeze blows coolly through my shirt,
My damp pants are covered with dark dirt,
The sky is lifeless with gray clouds,
My bones cleaned eagerly by cows.

Sunk deeply in the thick clinging mud,
My salty tears form a small puddle
On my cheek, roots entangle my body
Turning my skin to a fine light sod;
Not yet! I climb from my hole,
You will never get to take my soul.
Too hell you will be sent to burn,
And sit there you will for eternity,
Giant rocks weigh you down,
A fate fitting for a social clown,
Still I walk amongst the living.
I will never go down without fighting.

Dear Olivia

2009-03-30T17:55:00.001-07:00

Today I sat at the table and watched you. You were wearing a cute baby blue sleeper with multi colored polka dots. I had put some of your hair in a pony tail which stuck up on top of your head and spilled over on top like water from the blow-hole of a cartoon whale. The hair at the back of your head curled up in little wisps.

You were exploring. You crawled into the playroom and spilled multiple bins of toys—sifted through them like treasure, examining pieces that fancied you, but in the end discarding them all.

Dissatisfied, you crawled over to the basket your mother filled with items to be taken upstairs. You stood at the basket and removed things one by one. Occasionally you talked to one of the items—babbling in your baby language that only you and the angels understand.

You found your tiny shoes—more like moccasins really, all leather pink with flowers. You held one of them up to show me and told me about them. I pretended to understand and said they were beautiful shoes. You were proud of the shoe but tossed it aside so you could pick up something else. A few more items and the basket was empty. A job well done.

Looking for something else to do you scurried off clicking with your tongue on the roof of your mouth as you went. I clicked back, and you turned to me clicking a few times just to please me—you know how it warms my heart when you click to me, like it is our own special language.

You smiled and went back to work. I smiled too, wide, and felt tears forming in my eyes. I held that moment as long as I could, not wanting it to end.

The tears evaporated before they could fall, but I knew they were there. When I see you playing, babbling, smiling, clicking, I love you more than I think I can bear.

Book Review: Fahrenheit 451

2009-03-28T09:53:00.001-07:00

This book was pretty much what I expected. I figured it would read like many of the books of the time that warned of totalitarianism (one of my favorite topics). I was a bit unique I suppose in that it focused on the society at a micro level. One of the things that interested me was the interactive TVs. His wife was obsessed with them and spent hours in the "parlor" watching or rather interacting with whatever it was that came through the screens that were as large as the wall. I was interested in this because it turned out to be prophetic. We now have tvs that are as large as walls and we also have very interactive entertainment through computers. I imagine it will only be a couple of years before the two meet. The end was a bit weak, but the theme was challenging so I am not criticizing too much. I doubt I could write a better ending. Still the story speeds up only to end abruptly. It is almost the ending that my dad advocates for: "then the sun went supernova and destroyed the world." It is worth the read—reinforces concepts of free speech and the need for literacy.

Book Review: Anthem

2009-03-27T19:21:00.001-07:00

I read Ayn Rand because she is supposed to be an amazing writer, or at least thinker who started her own movement. I am also into the genre of writing that emerges after WWII. The challenge in reading Rand is that her two major pieces, Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, are upwards of 1000 pages. I for one do not read enough nor do I read fast enough to warrant taking on a 1000 page book. I know few who would do so, and I imagine that those who do take a certain amount of pride in themselves which only feeds into Rand's ideas. So I did a little research and found that all of her work is essentially the same in theme. So I took the easy way and read Anthem which is not even a novel but more like a novella. I bought it and read it in the car while I waited for my kids to get out of preschool. It is that short. It is an interesting piece, similar to others in the same genre including one of my favorites 1984. The thing that set it apart from other works including the afore mentioned Orwell work is that the protagonist succeeds in overcoming totalitarianism. He flees and is oddly not stopped in his flight by authorities. He meets up with his girlfriend and they find a cottage. There he teaches himself to read which is great and gives himself a name because as he declares, all people should name themselves (they all were given horrible communist type names with numbers attached). *Spoil alert* To me there is a flaw in the work that I believe was unintended. At the very end, after naming himself and explaining that it is important for people to name themselves (as Rand had) he names his girlfriend. Why did she not get to name herself? There is a chance that she slipped it in the book to suggest that the pattern would continue, but based on what I know of her, I think she slipped and showed the flaw in her philosophy. She is, to me, not really about rugged individualism (or hedonism as it sometimes appears) but about superiority. She feels that the brightest people are above others in more way than one, as she clearly thought about herself. In the end I am not wholly impressed with Rand and will not be tackling her other, heftier works.

Near Death Experience?

2009-03-24T20:24:00.000-07:00

I consider myself a strong person, if not through physical feat, through health and resilience. I am not on any medications, do not get frequent headaches, have no known allergies, I’m in good shape, never broke a bone and aside from feeling the need to take daily naps, I feel as though I am healthy as a horse as they say. Until this January. I began to feel ill during Tuesday evening. Thinking it was gas or some other sort of minor digestive problem I pushed it from my mind and didn’t mention it. Wednesday I went to work with increasing pain, now sharp at times. I coached my soccer team to a victory and by the time I got home was in enough pain to complain. I told Brandi about my condition and was spared from taking the children to church for their Bible night. I made a complaining call to Directv and when Brandi came home she saw me wincing as I descended the stairs. She claimed to have seen the face I was making on many children with appendicitis. She asked me some questions then poked my abdomen and I nearly cried. She immediately told me that we were going to the hospital. I did not like the sound of that but trusted that she knew what she was talking about being a nurse so I called for a sub and took shower. Brandi called for someone to stay with our kids and we went to the hospital.

Once there I was subjected to much prodding and many questions, which were repeated by each new surgeon, nurse or doctor who came to see me. I was in ever increasing pain, and finally they put me on morphine. I imagined that it would take all my pains away but in reality I still felt horrible. I scan was finally done which confirmed that my appendix needed to be taken out. Some of the doctors and medical personnel were concerned because I exhibited some of the signs of an appendicitis, but not all of them. For instance I did not have a fever, but then… my appendix hurt. Neither did I feel noxious, but again… my appendix hurt. My white blood cell count was not elevated either… but one more time… my appendix hurt. Finally after being in the hospital for 11 hours, they removed my appendix.

I felt like I experienced date rape because I was merely lying on a bed writhing in agony... then they told me I was all done. When I became more aware of my environment I realized that I was in a new room all together. I was pleased notice that my appendix no longer hurt, but concerned that my pants and boxers were missing, my tummy on down was shaved, and my business hurt. All were of course natural and necessary things, but I could not help but feel a little violated.
As for feeling young and healthy, I had to embrace the fact that at age 28 I would have died had it not been for modern medicine. Praise the Lord. I was having trouble with that except that I have already produced 3 beautiful children and two manuscripts, served my country and finished college. Not bad. There are plenty of people older than me who haven’t done anything except smoke a lot of pot and drink a lot of beer, so I won’t complain if I am to die. Of course I would be dead so I imagine it would be hard to die. And after all, Dick Cheney has had four heart attacks, and still managed to serve as vice president. Doctors can probably keep me going for a while. I like my chances.

Rejected

2009-03-15T20:36:00.000-07:00

I sent my second manuscript to a publisher which I would love to see publish my work and I was rejected! It hurt a little. I have faith in my work. Several people I trust to be honest and subjective affirmed its worth to me, but alas, rejection. Sometimes I feel like it is good. After all it is really only a minor setback. Some authors have been rejected many times. My next move is to look for an agent. I am not really excited about that prospect, but apparently that is the way to do things in our modern world. It might work out well, but I am nervous. How do I know if the agent is looking out for me? Are they working for me or I for them? Too many questions. I guess I will just have to trust that it will work out. Here’s hoping…

As for being rejected, I’m a big boy. I am reenergized to reread once more in an effort to improve my work. I also have written a few chapters of the Sureshot 3. After that I have to begin serious work on some of my other ideas, or I will have a list of projects that will never get written. It is good to be reminded that I have not yet arrived and that it is not about me, but what my work can bring to the world, and more importantly to God. I have committed my writing to him… and it is good to remember that. It cannot be about me or it will not work out. That is where I am at.

Reading

2009-01-20T19:12:00.001-08:00

I have been reading like crazy lately. I do not know what came over me but as I near 30 I do not have as much desire to watch TV, but instead have enjoyed reading in my leisure time. In the last couple months I have read 6 books, having finished another last night. As part of my goal to write full time this can only help. I have heard it said that there are six things a person must do to become a writer. 1) read 2) read 3) read 4)write 5)write 6)write. If that is true, and it seems to make sense, then I am glad that I have gained such an appetite for reading lately. Mostly it is because I am reading something that I enjoy. I have also been writing a bit lately, though teaching takes a lot of time. I want to write "the day after the day the earth stood still," because I was so upset by the movie, so hopefully I can begin that sometime this week. Otherwise I am just busy with work again. Also I had my appendix out which was an adventure in itself but I will post about that later. Look for my next 3 book reviews, and a post about my appendix, also my short story about the day the earth stood still.

Book Review: Unprotected

2009-01-18T19:46:00.000-08:00

My Grandfather lent my wife a book entitled Unprotected when we were there for a visit this break. Since we were driving to the coast after our stay with my grandparents then back home, Brandi read the book aloud in the car after I continuously asked her what was so interested as she sighed every few minutes. We finished the book before we returned home. It was very interested and supported some things that I was either aware of or suspicious of. It is written by a college psychiatrist who was apparently fed up with some things. I recommend it highly for anyone, but especially young people. I wish I could assign it to my high school students. Anyways, one of the things that is interesting is the manner in which we treat HIV/AIDS. As I have been annoyed with for some time, there is a lot of miss information out there about HIV/AIDS and it is backed by an agenda that is worried that the truth about the virus would ostracize gay men, who are one of the two main groups of people who the virus affects, the other is IV drug users. Instead then of focusing on those two groups of people in an effort to control the spread of that virus, the add campaign that was promoted was one in which the idea that "aids doesn't discriminate," was the motto. As evidence of this deceptive slogan she shared the story of a patient who was at high risk (gay man with multiple and anonymous partners) and a married woman who found out her husband had cheated on her. The gay man ignored the danger and did not get tested. The married woman was convinced she had HIV and had a nervous break down. Who is that campaign helping then? The gay man won't get tested, the straight married woman doesn't really need to get tested but nearly lost her mind with worry when she found out her husband cheated. Anyways, this and many other issues are tackled in this book from a different perspective than the one often pushed by those who above all else desire to be politically correct. I highly recommend it, and if you can get someone else to read it aloud to you, that would be cool also.

Waiting for a King

2009-01-14T18:28:00.000-08:00

This is the Christmas play that I wrote for my church. I enjoyed it. The things that appear to be poems mixed throughout the script are my attempt at writing song lyrics. This was with mixed results in my opinion.

Christmas Program 08
Christmas Musical

Scene 1: A New King?

There are three men tending sheep. They are a motley crew of different sizes leaning on their staffs. One of them speaks up.

Shepherd 1: What do you two think about our king, Herod?

Shepherd 2, Shepherd 3: Bah! (gesturing with their arms)

S2: I could do without him.

S3: Me too. I mean sure he is building the temple back up, but does he have to tax us so much?

S2: Who decide to call him Herod the great anyway?

S1: I don’t know maybe we should call him Herod the tax collector instead.

S2: Don’t get me started on tax collectors. What an awful bunch they are.

S3: I just don’t understand how any self respecting Hebrew could work for the Romans.

S2: Oh vey! The Romans! What a bunch of pigs they are! Pt, pt, pt (spitting).

S1, S2, S3: (collective sigh)

S1: We need a new king.

S2: I hear that.

S3: God promised us the one, the Messiah. I hope he comes soon.

S2: I don’t think he is ever coming.

S1, S3: What? How can you say that?

S2: How long have we been waiting?

Song: Waiting for a King

We’re waiting
Waiting for a king (echo) What king?
Waiting for a king from God (echo) From God?
Yes God (sign)

We’re waiting
Waiting to be free (echo) Set free?
Waiting to be free from Rome (echo) From Rome?
Yes Rome (spit)

We’re hoping
Hoping for a chance (echo) A chance?
Hoping for a chance at peace (echo) At Peace?
Yes Peace Oy Veh

We’re hoping
Hoping Herod goes (echo) Goes where?
Hoping Herod goes away (echo) Away?
Far away

We’re praying
Praying for a king (echo) A king?
Praying for a king from God (echo) From God?
Yes God. Sign

Shepherds go back to leaning on their staffs.

End of scene

Scene 2: In the Holies of Holies

Zechariah enters the stage seemingly in a hurry. The shepherds stop him to inquire as to his destination.

S1: Zechariah old friend! Where are you going in such a hurry?

Zechariah: Do you not know? It is my turn to enter the Holy of Holies to pray and light the incense.

S2: It is? What an honor! You must be very proud.

Z: Of course. I have waited a long time for this honor.

S1: Well then we won’t keep you, tell us all about it when you get back.

Z: Thank you friends, I will. Zechariah turns to leave.

S3: Hey when you’re there…ask God for better weather, my joints get stiff in this stuff. Another shepherd pops him in the back of the head.

Zechariah moves to the other side of the stage where the Holy of Holies is located. He performs rituals (bows, lights incense etc.) then prepares to pray.

Lord oh Lord, you are holy
Lord oh Lord, you are mighty
Lord oh Lord, bless your people
But Lord, my heart is broken
My wife, she has no children
She weeps, because she’s barren
Oh God, we want a child
Please God, give us a child
For you, we’ll raise a child

An angel appears to him and he falls in reverence.

Angel: Do not be afraid Zechariah, your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. He will be great in the sight of the Lord and from birth he will be filled with the holy spirit.

Z: How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.

A: I am Gabriel . I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and tell you the good news. But now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens because you did not believe my words.

He finishes his duties, then leave the Holy of Holies and travels home.

As Zechariah travels he passed by the shepherds.

S1: Hey Zechariah…how did it go in the temple?

Z: …Zechariah tries to talk but cannot

S2: What’s wrong Zechariah? Can’t even put it to words?

Z: …tries to mime what happened

S3: What are you doing Zechariah? Are you well?

Z: …Zechariah gives up and hurries home

Zechariahs wife Elizabeth is waiting with her cousin Mary. Zechariah comes in excited.

Elizabeth: Welcome home dear (Hugging him). How was your trip? What was it like in the temple? What was it like being in God’s presence?

Z: …Zechariah tries to mime

Elizabeth: What are you doing? Why don’t you answer me?

Mary: Elizabeth… I don’t think he can speak.

E: What do you mean Mary? Zechariah what’s wrong? Can you speak?

Z: …Zechariah shakes his head

E: How did this happen?

Z: …tries to mime that an angle appeared to him

M: Did you see an angel?

Z: …nods enthusiastically

E: You saw an angel? What was it like?

M: Cousin, he cannot speak…

E: Oh you’re right. Can you show us what he told you?

Z: …he mimes “pregnant” and “baby” to his wife and her cousin

E: You are not making any sense husband. Mary can you make anything of this?

M: I think he is trying to tell you that you are going to have a baby.

Z: …Zechariah jumps up and down with excitement

E: That is ridiculous I am too old and barren. I can’t have a baby.

Z: …embraces his wife lovingly then and thanks Mary and asks her to leave (in mime)

E: …aaa…cousin… I think Zechariah wants you to leave now…

M: Oh…ok…I will leave you to be with your husband… I will visit soon.

E: Thank you for staying with me while he was away… take care.

They hug, and Mary leaves. Zechariah picks up Elizabeth and carries her off the stage.

Scene 3: Good News

Mary travels home. There Joseph is waiting for her.

Joseph: Hello my bride! Did you have a nice visit with your cousin?

Mary: Yes, thank you. How have things been here is Nazareth?

J: Things have been well sweet Mary, though I longed for you to return.

M: You are kind Joseph. I too anticipate our marriage but there is much to do before we can wed.

J: I know Mary. I must go and tend to things now. I am glad you have returned. Take care my bride.

M: Take care Joseph my groom.

Joseph leaves and Mary takes to doing chores.

Mary sings a worship song while she works.

An Angel appears to Mary.

Angel: Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.

Mary: What is this?

A: Do not be afraid. You have found favor with God. You will have a baby and name him Jesus. He will be the son of the most high. He will be great and his kingdom will never end.

M: How can this be? I am a virgin.

A: The Holy Spirit will come upon you so that the one to be born will be called Son of God. Even your cousin Elizabeth is pregnant in her old age.

M: Elizabeth is pregnant?

A: Yes. Nothing is impossible with God.

M: I am the Lord’s servant. I believe what you tell me.

Mary kneels and prays. The angel leaves. Mary remains kneeling in prayer.

Scene 4: Change of Heart

Mary is praying when Joseph returns.

Joseph: Mary? How have you been?

Mary: Oh Joseph something amazing happened.

J: Really? What?

M: The angel Gabriel appeared to me.

J: An angel? What did he want?

M: He came to tell me that I was going to have a baby.

J: That’s wonderful! But we’re still merely engaged. Surely the angel means after we wed.

M: Joseph my groom, I’m afraid it is more complicated than that.

J: What do you mean my bride?

M: The angel told me that I was going to have a child of God.

J: What does that mean?

M: He said that the Holy Spirit would be upon me and that I would have a son of God.

J: But you are a virgin. Aren’t you?

M: Yes of course, that is the miracle. The angel said I would be pregnant without ever being with you.

J: I don’t know what to say. My bride pregnant before we marry?

M: I know what it will look like, and I know people will talk, but please try to understand.

J: I guess I can try, but it is pretty hard to accept.

M: Thank you for trying. I must go to Elizabeth, the angel told me she is pregnant.

J: Elizabeth? But isn’t she too old to have children.

M: That’s the miracle. How blessed we are to be favored by God.

J: Yeah… blessed…
Mary leaves to go to Elizabeth, while Joseph is left to ponder the news. He paces around uneasily.

Joseph’s Song

What to do? Lord what to do?
Oh Lord, I want to serve you,
But Lord, my Mary’s pregnant,
And she, says by your spirit,
And me, a man of merit,
You see, my troubled spirit.

What to do? Lord what to do?
Oh Lord, I want to love you,
Mary, so sweet and lovely,
Mary, my bride to marry,
Mary, you’re full of mercy,
Mary, I know you’re worthy.

What to do? Lord what to do?
Oh Lord, I want to know you,
But I, I don’t believe her,
But I, I’m not the father,
But I, I’m in a dither,
But I, I will divorce her.

When Joseph finishes his song the angel appears to him. Joseph falls to the floor when he sees the angel.

A: Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived by the Holy Spirit.

J: By the Holy Spirit my Lord?

A: Yes, she will give birth to a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save the people from their sins.

J: Lord this is too much. Why is this happening to me?

A: This is to fulfill what the Lord said through his prophet: “the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel.

J: I will do as you ask my Lord. I am the Lord’s servant.

The angel leaves and Joseph falls asleep (or remains in prayer). The scene shifts to the other side of stage.

Scene 5: Blessed Cousin

Mary arrives at the home of her cousin Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah. Elizabeth is now 6 months pregnant.

Mary: Elizabeth look at you! Praise the Lord you truly are pregnant!

Elizabeth: Mary! Blessed are you among women, a blessed child you bear! The mother of the Lord has come to me!

M: How do you know of the child in my womb?

E: As soon as I heard your voice the baby in my womb leaped for joy.

M: The Lord has blessed us both. Praise his name

Mary’s Song

My soul…Glorifies the Lord
My soul…rejoices in God
For he, has been mindful
Of his, humble servant
For me, he’s done great things
Holy is his name
Holy is his name

Mercy…to those who fear Him
Mighty…the deeds of his arm
Brought down, rulers on thrones
Filled, hungry, with good things
Away, he sent the rich
Holy is his name
Holy is his name

E: Praise him cousin for he has blessed you more than other women.

M: But you too are blessed to be pregnant at your age.

E: Yes, and I am so thankful that you have come to help me.

M: Of course I would help you Elizabeth.

Scene 6: John is Born

To transition, because the scene begins in the same spot the last one ended the shepherd will sing another song to introduce scene 6.

Shepherd 1: So what do you think about everything that’s been going on?

Shepherd 2: What do you mean?

S1: Well you know, about Elizabeth being pregnant, and Zechariah being mute.

Shepherd 3: And don’t forget about the virgin Mary being pregnant.

S1: Of course. It is a miracle.

S2: Is it? Or maybe it is something else.

S1: What else could it be?

S2: I don’t know all I’m saying is… maybe it isn’t a miracle. Maybe God had nothing to do with it.

S3: Are you saying you don’t believe that God did the things that Elizabeth and Mary said he did?

S2: Something like that. I’m just saying that there are other explanations.

S1: Come on. Don’t be a fool. Can’t you see that God is at work here. He may even be sending the Messiah.

S2: Bah! I don’t believe that. I don’t believe there will ever be a Messiah.

S3: You have to have faith man! You have to trust in the Lord.

Song: Trust the Lord: He is in Control

You have to trust
Trust the Lord with all of your heart
You have to trust
Trust in him, it will be alright

But I can’t

You have to trust
Saved us from an evil king
You have to trust
Saved us from our suffering

I don’t believe

You need faith
He’s our God through thick and thin
You need faith
He’s with us when life is grim

I can’t be sure

You need faith
He’s the God of Abraham
You need faith
The father of every man

I still doubt

Open your eyes
Liz is pregnant, and Mary too
Open your eyes
He blessed them and can bless you too

I don’t know

Open your eyes
He working out his perfect plan
Open your eyes
To save each and every man

I guess we’ll see

S1: Just watch. Elizabeth gave birth recently, and Mary will give birth soon. I believe those babies will be special because God gave them to special women.

S3: There from King David’s family. The prophets said the messiah would be from David’s line.

S1: That’s true. One of these babies could be the messiah. Can you imagine? We will be free at last.

S2: Well I guess you might be right. But I am going to wait and see.

S1: Look here comes the rabbi right now. I bet he is going to perform the circumcision on Zechariah and Elizabeth’s baby.

Rabbi: Hello gentlemen. How are you?

S3: We’re alright, just having a bit of a discussion about the Messiah. Do you think he is coming soon.

Rabbi: In my prayers I get the feeling that he is. It seems that God is setting events in motion that will lead to huge changes. Can you imagine what it will be like to be free? No longer slaves to men, but free in God’s kingdom?

S2: Are you going to circumcise Zechariah and Elizabeth’s baby?

Rabbi: Oh… yes that is where I am going. I should be getting along now they are expecting me. Good bye men.

S 1,2,3: Good bye Rabbi.

The rabbi proceeds to the home of Elizabeth, and Zechariah. Mary is still there having helped her cousin birth the child.

Mary: Rabbi! Welcome, my cousin and her husband are waiting patiently for you.

Rabbi: Why Mary you are along in your pregnancy as well. Surely you should be preparing for your own child’s birth.

Mary: Yes I will leave as soon as you are finished.

Rabbi: Very well. Where is the baby?

Elizabeth: He is here Rabbi.

Rabbi: What a beautiful boy. Surely he is a blessing from God.

Elizabeth: Oh yes. He has blessed me beyond what I dared hope for.

Rabbi: Indeed. What have you decided the boy’s name will be?

Elizabeth: He will be named John.

Rabbi: But there is no one in your family with that name. Why call him John? Zechariah… what do you say the boy’s name will be?

Zechariah motions for a tablet. Mary gets it for him. He writes the words “His name is John.”

Zechariah: gasp…I can speak again… I can speak… the boy’s name is John Rabbi because he is gift from God and God asked me to name him John because he is going to pave the way for the messiah.

Zechariah’s Song

Praise the Lord
Praise the Lord
He is our Redeemer
He is our Savior

Praise the Lord
Praise the Lord
He showed us mercy
He alone rescued us

My son John
My son John
He will show the way
The way for the Lord

My son John
My son John
In the wilderness
Like a lunatic

My son John
My son John
Baptizing in the river
To show us the savior

Praise the Lord
Praise the Lord
He is our Redeemer
He is our Savior

Praise the Lord
Praise the Lord

Elizabeth: Praise God, he has blessed us.

Zechariah: Yes he has my wife, beyond our dreams.

Rabbi: Surely this child is special. He is chosen by God to bring the good news of the Messiah to the world.

Zechariah: Yes he is. The Lord has heard the cries of his people and he is going to answer.

E: I am so happy he has blessed us with a child.

Z: Yes but this is not the only child he was blessed our family with. Soon Mary, you too will give birth.

Mary: Yes and it is wonderful to me. But I must return home now to Joseph to prepare.

Elizabeth: Of course Mary. Thank you for all of your help. You are so kind.

Mary: It was my pleasure, take care.

E: You too cousin.

Scene 7

Mary arrives and Joseph greets her.

Joseph: Thank goodness you have returned. How is your cousin?

Mary: She is well her baby John was born and Zechariah can speak again?

J: What a miracle! No doubt these are miraculous times.

M: Our baby is evidence of that.

J: Of course my bride, but we must prepare for a journey to Bethlehem.

M: Bethlehem?

J: Yes. Caesar has called for a census so we must return to the town of my origin. Bethlehem, the city of David.

M: But the baby is coming soon. What if it is born while we are there?

J: Then it is God’s will and he will look after us.

M: Very well then…

Mary and Joseph prepare for a journey then travel to the manger.

The shepherds again are tending to their herds.

S1: I am so sleepy. Why doesn’t anything exciting happen around here?

S2: Because we live near Bethlehem. No one cares about Bethlehem.

S1: I guess. Still it is awful boring. I just wish something interesting would happen.

S3: Careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

An angel appears to the shepherds and they fall to their faces in fear.

Angel: Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you; you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.

S3: A baby? Are you sure?

Angel: Yes. This baby is the Messiah that you have been waiting for. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.

The angel leaves.

S1: Well what are we waiting for. Let’s go see this baby and sing songs of joy.

At this point the play is mostly over. There is only singing left to be done. Christmas carols or something which can include the children.

The End

Book Review: Intellectual Morons

2009-01-11T08:21:00.000-08:00

This was a very interesting book. The premise is that people are often blinded by ideology. The author gives copious examples of this phenomenon and they are sometimes shocking. I will spare you some of the more graphic ones and simply advise anyone to read this work. Here is a brief summary of what ideology will make people do. 1) People will lie to promote their ideology. 2) People will ignore evidence which is counter to their ideology. 3) People will attack anyone who does not agree with their ideology. 4) College campuses are rife with various ideologies.

It made me examine my own thoughts and leanings to wonder if I too follow some ideology without knowing it. After all, I went to college and could have been conditioned to believe something in spite of facts. After some interpersonal inspection however, I do not believe that I blindly follow an ideology for a few reasons. 1) I recognized and challenged several ideologies in college. 2) I loath lying and strongly value honesty. 3) I change my mind too often. If I find flaw in something I am doing or embracing I accept that it is flawed. I regularly find fault in books that I am inclined to like, people I am inclined to listen to, and especially important, my own speech, thoughts and actions.

Over all it is a good book which further encouraged me to promote independent thinking in my classroom, at whatever the cost.

Reading Zhivago

2009-01-09T20:50:00.000-08:00

I decided around this time last year that I wanted to read Dr. Zhivago. My motivation was two fold. Firstly, I was a Russian linguist and strongly desired to read some of the Russian classics that are so famous even today. Secondly, I came to believe that this book held some sort of key to understanding the dysfunction that plagues my family on my mother's side. You see, my grandmother and grandfather are still alive, as are their three children and four? grandchildren. They are divorced, and have been since before I was born. They have not spoken to each other in decades. Perhaps that is understandable. Their three children however, also do not speak to each other. Strange. Furthermore, my grandmother does not speak to either of her two sisters. Stranger still. Of my grandparents three children, only one speaks to each of them. My uncle does not wish to speak to either myself or my sister so I have not heard from him or his two children in a while. I have never met my grandfather. Get the picture? Probably.

So how does Dr. Zhivago factor in. Shockingly, many of these people who do not talk to each other love Dr. Zhivago. My uncle implored me to read it years ago when we were communicating on a regular basis, claiming it was a masterpiece, and one of his favorite books. My mother then explained once that she loves the movie passionately. Lastly I discovered that my grandmother also loves the movie. Well that was enough for me. If three people who strongly dislike each other (I don't want to use the word hate) to the point of completely ignoring their existence, all love the same story, then I figured reading it would help me understand something about my family.

So what about Dr. Zhivago? It took me nearly a year to read it. Not because I was too busy, but because it was too slow. In the end I too came to embrace the work as a masterful, but I was not convinced until page 500 (the book is 500 pages long). The story is very disjointed early on and is difficult to follow given the Russian tradition of calling a person by the various diminutives of their name. At one point I believed there to be another Dr. working with Zhivago, only to find out it was him all along. Off the top of my head, he was called: Zhivago, Yuri, Yurochka, Yura, Yuri Andreivich, and perhaps even a couple of others. It was confusing. The prose is beautiful. Pasternak (the author) can describe a scene that had me not only visualizing, but also hearing, smelling and sometimes even tasting it. There is very little action however. So little that it made reading the book difficult. It had me wondering if nothing ever happened in Russia.

But did it help me understand my family? Yes and No. At a superficial level I could not see why they would all love the book. On a deeper level however, I wonder if it is because the tragic (and it is fully tragic) story of Zhivago in his absolute loneliness helps everyone to feel better about relational failure in the real world. Everyone Zhivago loved, and he loved a few people, were lost to him. He was left alone and he stubbornly accepted that fate. He was a character who believed himself to know what was best no matter what the circumstances or who he was with (another characteristic of my family). So maybe these things are enlightening. Or maybe I am looking for a connection where one does not exist.

Perhaps it will require reading the book again to truly understand what the connection is. Unfortunately that is not likely to happen in this decade.

Vacation is over

2009-01-07T20:40:00.000-08:00

As a teacher I get a lot of time off. Every time, it seems, someone asked about when I was going back to work I got a sarcastic response. It got old but finally I am going back to work Monday. I am a little sad because I got a lot of things done over the break. I worked on the Sureshot some more, read four books and wrote two Easter dramas. Speaking of which, I had the honor of watching the Christmas drama I wrote which was in the form of a musical. It pushed me a bit to write song lyrics, and ultimately I feel as though I failed to write lyrics as a couple of the men at my church who are musical had to significantly alter them in order to make the end product worthwhile. Still, it was a fun project and I loved watching it. It is somewhat of an nerve racking process because I have a vision of how the play should look and yet the end product is out of my immediate control. This is the second one that I wrote then watched and both were pleasing. I even feel a bit guilty because it seems I have the easy part--writing. The acting, staging, memorizing of lines and all the other things that go into a play are far more difficult in my estimation. I can't bring myself to be honest when people congratulate me on the success of the production then inquire about how long it took me to write. I have written such things in a few hours, but I think people expect me to say days, weeks, or even months. I am not sure, perhaps I should investigate. Anyways, look for a series of posts this month as I share all of the "work" I was able to do while I wasn't working.

In the Mail

2008-12-23T10:25:00.000-08:00

I sent my second manuscript to Tate Publishing for review, and also a paper copy to Tor which publishes a lot of fantasy genre books. I am hoping that Tor is interested in my book, but I am willing to give Tate a try at my second one. In all honesty I am not entirely pleased with them based on sales, and am frustrated that I have had 3 different marketing representatives in two years, but otherwise they have been helpful and friendly and I am thankful that they published my work, as amateurish as it was. I was also pleased that people who read my manuscript noticed that my writing has improved. I am still pursuing my goal of writing full time but in order to accomplish that, I am going to have to improve. Hopefully I am on the right track. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I have faith in my work and hope others see some value in it. Writing I am finding out is like many of the other artistic fields; difficult. Artists, musicians, writers, and others all suffer the same challenges, doing what we love while supporting a family, or even one's self. Good thing I am a teacher too I guess.

Organization of Time in Pavshia

2008-12-15T22:18:00.001-08:00

For anyone who might be a Sureshot nerd (like me) you might find this interesting. I am not quite as bad as Tolkein who made up languages for his characters, but I have spent a lot of time developing the world I write my stories in.

1st age: Age of Heroes

In this first age societies are characterized by heroes. In Genesis there is an odd verse that suggests that there were fallen angles (sons of God) or some such “super” beings who mingled with humans and produced super humans.

Genesis 6:

1 When men began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, 2 the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. 3 Then the LORD said, "My Spirit will not contend with man forever, for he is mortal ; his days will be a hundred and twenty years."
4 The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.

So in Pavshia the first age is full of super humans. I imagine that these beings would not only be capable of incredible feats of strength, but also some sort of magical feats. I have hesitated writing in magic for a few reasons. First is because it is challenging to use effectively. Not only does the writer have to explain how the user wields magic, but it must be consistent. I am open however to writing in magic in any books I write for the 1st age, but it will be more like Tolkien in that a few people can use it and it is innate, not learned. I do not embrace the Harry Potter sorcerer school type of magic for my own writing. I am interested in writing books set in this age because the added dimension of magic and heroes, though I have not started one to date.

2nd age: Age of the tribes

In this age, as in the Bible, the world is characterized by tribal type living. There are city states in this age and in large cities kings, but there is much chaos because of a lack of large government. People regularly endure war and famine as groups compete for food and resources. In this age there are still some of the heroes from the former age, but they are much more uncommon. Few are near the giants or heroes that existed before, but still have significant influence.

I have not decided if I will ever write a book set in this age, but if I do it will be much more of a micro focus because of the tribal organization of the world, like the Sureshot. It would be a challenge but I am interested in exploring a book or books in this age.

3rd age: Age of Empires

This age mirrors more the age before and after Christ’s life on earth. In this time the world was regularly dominated by one or more empires. From China to Mongolia, to Rome to Byzantium rising and falling empires set the rules, and structured society as they saw fit. It is in this setting that the Sureshot was written. I drew mostly from my study of history. It was fairly easy to write in this setting given the amount of literature and history I read about this time period. I feel like I could write endlessly in this setting and have developed detailed notes about each empire and even developed characters who I could use in new books beyond the Sureshot.

4th age: Age of the people

This age is the age of democracy that was born in the renaissance and enlightenment. It is the beginning of our age and I do

Writing Obsolete?

2008-11-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

As I endeavor to improve my writing skills and move toward writing full time, I sometimes wonder if writing will soon become obsolete. Will we one day no longer have a need for written language? Will we merely need to train a few people to master written language as ancient civilizations once did with scribes? Is it possible to live without reading?

I often ponder these things and, while they may make for a good book plot, I doubt that somehow writing will become a thing of the past. In spite of computer and communication technology, writing remains a foundation of our society and culture. Reading and writing are highly desired and useful abilities. If a teenager left high school with only one skill, I imagine reading would be the one that could serve him best. Personally I read a lot of things others may not, even though they are afforded the opportunity, and it has always proved wise. I read the sample ballot—candidates and propositions included. I read my insurance policy. I read the disclaimer on commercials and other mediums. It is surprising how much you can learn by reading those things, I highly recommend it.

It would be the demise of our culture if we stopped reading. Online databases are great and all, but I image that a mere stroke of the key could erase all of that information. A power surge could ruin everything, leaving us without information. Writings from ancient cultures survive today, as do books from Greece, Rome, and China. Where will the musings of our great thinkers be in 2000 years if they were on a hard drive? Where will this post be in ten years let alone 100? Who will remember the great bloggers? Will they somehow be compared to the poets or philosophers? Not likely.

So until I am convinced other wise, I am going to continue writing, and encouraging my students to do the same.

Life before an editor

2008-11-29T23:15:00.000-08:00

For any one who has been wondering (not that there are many of you) I have been busy writing. I find that with a career, wife, three kids and other responsibilities, it is imperative that I write efficiently, and unfortunately that has not included Blogging lately. There are a number of things I would love to write about, but one that has given my writing aspirations more hope; an editor. I lovely woman at my church volunteered to read the manuscript of the Sureshot II (as I am still calling it) and edit for me. Now I had the Sureshot edited by about five people I knew, and then a person at Tate Publishing, only to find that my book was published with about 50 errors (one of which was using the word error when I should have used err). There is no need to bring up old hurts, but I was upset. So I was skeptical when she said she would edit for me because I had yet to find someone who was actually skilled at editing. Alas my worries were put to rest. She meticulously combed through my manuscript and found many, many, many errors. As I write another draft using her corrects I can see a polish on my work that was lacking the first time. I am indebted to her, and hope that we can work together in the future. What is more, I have found the amazing value of a good editor, and now realize how rare they are.

Things to be thankful for (in no specific order):

2008-11-27T22:16:00.000-08:00

My Savior
My wife
My kids
My family
My friends
My church
My job
My home
Pepsi
Soccer
T-shirts
Playstation
Rain
Books
Writing
Music
Baseball
Democracy
The United State of America
Soldiers
Microwaves
Naps
Salsa
Chips (for salsa)
M & Ms
Orange Juice
Blue Jeans
Jokes
Toilet Paper
Spell Check
Children (in general)
Wine (in moderation)
Beer (in moderation)
T-Rex is extinct
Hot Showers
Healthy bodies
Cheese
Steak
Cheese Steak
The Dodgers
Blankets

There are other things to be thankful for of course, but this is what I came up with today.

Wild and Enhanced

2008-10-08T17:57:00.000-07:00

Every few days or so I enjoy reclining on the couch and watching TV. For years we did not receive cable television so I was limited to whatever was on network, but since moving we decided to go all in and get satellite. Now I can watch more sports, which I like, and my wife can watch cooking shows, which I also like on account of the increased variety of meals at home.

There are so many interesting things that can be viewed such as Man Vs. Wild, Intervention and The First 48. I admit that I have enjoyed the increase in choices I now have when it comes to entertainment. Without premium channels that are notorious for showing sleazy things late at night, there is relatively little temptation for a man who is trying to remain faithful to his wife and fight off lustful thoughts.

I found however that there is one animal that will attack a man when he least expects it. While watching the Colbert Report on Comedy Central one evening it attacked me in my own home. “Warning, the following may contain content not suitable for children.” Oh yes men the Girls Gone Wild beast struck again trying to convince men everywhere that women were made to look at and they will gladly show you anything you might want to see if only you have a video camera handy.

I have disciplined myself to battle this beast by simply switching the channel down or up one until everyone has their clothes back on and so employed this defense. This usually means watching a minute or two of Golden Girls, or MASH, depending on what time it is. Once I felt like the assault is over I clicked back.

I was duped however into walking blindly into another attack. This one did not try to trick me with pleasure, but shame me with inadequacy. That’s right, natural male enhancement was the product this time. I suppose it is brilliant business sense to couple a sex add with a sexual enhancement add, but I was irritated. Enhanced women one minute and enhanced men the next. What is a regular guy to do anymore? Calling a regular guy small is like calling a regular woman fat. It really hits below the belt (literally).

Well I weathered that storm and finally got back to Colbert making fun of politics and serious issues which is all I really wanted in the first place. It is a shame that I have to endure enticing images and ignore challenges to my manhood just for a little entertainment.

This experience makes so clear the fact that as Christian men committed to being Christ imitators, we must keep our guard up and resist the temptations of the world. The world does not want us to be pure of mind and body. It wants us to buy a film with “wild” girls and then purchase a product to “enhance” ourselves for women. The message is, as I sat in my living room with my wife, “she is not good enough, and neither are you.”

This message is poison to a relationship. To even entertain the thought of lusting after another woman is to dishonor my wife, or as Jesus explained at his sermon on the mount “you have already committed adultery in your heart.” To believe that I am not good enough, or that I need to be enhanced, is to say to God, “I am not satisfied with the way you created me. I am going to do something to make what you made better.” Both messages are contrary to the very life God has called us to.

Imagine telling your wife, “you know honey, I love you and all, but these girls on this show are way better than you.” I don’t suppose any man would have the you know what to say such a thing and with good reason—it would hurt your wife in a deep way. By simply looking at those images I am communicating that she is not good enough for me.

On the other hand, imagine your son telling you that he is disappointed that you are his father and that he would rather have had someone else’s genes. It hurts, and so it hurts God to reject what he created. It is better to take care of what we already have, rather than try to get something else. So many temptations are about convincing us to abandon what God has provided in order to pursue more.

Jesus was tempted with three things: more food, more power, and more fame. We are tempted in similar ways because the world is all about more. Jesus resisted those temptations with the Word of God and we can do the same. Paul wrote that the sword we carry when we have our armor on is the Word of the Lord. When I am tempted I often recall his word to remind me that there is no need for more than what God has given me. My wife is a gift from God and all I need to satisfy desires for companionship, and I am good enough, because of God’s workmanship, to satisfy her as well.

So we will continue going through life being regular people and not enhance people. To the world regular may not seem good enough, but to God we are already enhanced by his Spirit and we cannot top him.

Fine Young Bloke

2008-09-20T17:55:00.000-07:00

Sprouts push hard against the stubborn earth
Everyday, we witness the miracle of birth
While a wise, kind, and caring being is dying,
A tiny young bird falls, and begins flying

A boy heaves a stone and learns to kill,
In the vast world some people are not free still,
Someone raises up in anger and shouts,
In the intelligence of men there still lay doubts;

A heart is toyed with and broke,
By a careless but rather fine young bloke,
It is a miracle for anyone to stand,
Alas all I want is to hold someone’s hand.

Star Search

2008-09-18T17:53:00.000-07:00

I lay atop my bed; I’m bare,
I look up at the endlessly wide sky, and stare.
I cannot see the bright stars that glare,
Yet I know that they are there.
The girl I long to hold is out somewhere.

I must find her without any haste,
I long for her sweet lips to taste,
Without her life is but a waste.
Through my body coldness raced,
Only she can warm me with my heart embraced.

Soldier's Qualification

2008-08-28T17:18:00.000-07:00

The air is hot and thick and full of smoke,
It’s hard to breath, some cough and choke,
The sun burns down hot with all its might,
When looking around eyes are burned by the light,
Salty sticky sweat pours over rough skin,
Jagged sharp rocks cut the body like pins,
Squinting hard through the tiny sights,
Hand shaking while grasping with all its might,
Freddie pops up and glares with glee,
Gently squeeze the trigger and kill him angrily.

Fuel For a Body

2008-08-25T21:41:00.001-07:00

Energy cold, pure and full of potential,
Is in this world deathly essential.
Energy makes our fast moving cars go,
Our tractors for our fields sow,
Our powerful planes soar through the heavens,
Our ships sail through the seas of seven.
Still the most important fuel comes from the heart.

Strong legs can take a man a long distance,
Skilled hands build things for assistance,
Brilliant minds create new things for existence,
But without blood they are all completely useless.
So beware not to damage any hearts,
For they are the most important of parts.

Sureshot Update

2008-08-23T07:20:00.000-07:00

I regret not getting the second Sureshot book out sooner. Though I have only a few fans, they are loyal and ask me regularly when the second book will come out. I finished the first draft of the second book and am fairly pleased with it, but it needs a bit of work yet. I have been unable or sometimes unwilling to put the time in to polish it up. However, recently a wonderful woman at my church elected to edit it for me and has been working on that for a couple weeks. This has renewed my energy and now I desire more than ever to finish it up and get it out to publishers. That coupled with the publication of my article in New Man and I have regained my zest for writing. Hopefully a publisher will be interested in my work and everyone can read the next installment of The Sureshot.

I love you Daddy

2008-08-22T07:18:00.000-07:00

I recently had the opportunity to write an article for New Man a publication for Christian men. This was the result along with a few others that I wrote.

As any parent can tell you, raising children is tiring. My boss who has four now adult children shared with me that he was “tired for ten straight years,” when his children were little. When non-fathers ask me about what it is that is so exhausting it is hard to pinpoint one thing. I came to the conclusion then that it is everything. It is the fact that I am here to serve them whether I like it or not. They need me, and if I do not tend to them, they run amuck. It is especially stressing to mediate the fights between my four-year-old Madelyn, and my two-year-old, Elijah. They love each other and yet they fight consistently. They are two very different personalities and clash easily.

Madelyn is a Pharisee. She loves rules and ensures that not only she, but everyone else follows them. She is always on the look out for rule violations and immediately brings them to our attention so that correction can be made. This means she will correct me if I use the word “stupid” while talking on the phone (because it is a rule that you cannot call someone stupid). She is especially fond of correcting her little brother.

Our son Elijah is 2 and 1/2. A horrible age that turned a loving, affectionate, boy into a wild animal that says “no” more than he can say “thank you” and seems to question our authority every opportunity. He hits, kicks, spits, squeals, squawks, and throws which has my wife and I questioning whether to have more children, which is really a moot point because our third, Olivia, has already arrived.

However, as Dickens wrote, “it is the best of times and the worst of times.” Hard to believe? Let me illustrate with a story.

It is challenging to remain patient with Elijah when he is being a tyrant as I like to call him. Recently we were going to my mother-in-law’s house for a swim. He was driving us crazy. In spite of having luxuries that we did have growing up, such as a DVD player in the car, he still finds reason to complain. He and his older sister Madelyn were arguing with each other over something silly as always.

“Don’t touch me!” She yelled.

“Stop talking!” He responded.

And so it went for a few minutes until we parents threatened punishment. Not long after, my animal son resorted to making animal noises. A shrill squeal came from his mouth that had everyone holding their ears. We were annoyed. Madelyn started shouting at him to stop it, and the baby started fussing, obviously displeased by the sound as well. He enjoyed the reaction from everyone so he did it again. Again everyone responded as they had before, so he did it once more.

This time we responded as any highly irritated parent would who feels they lost control of a situation and is powerless to do something otherwise; we yelled.

“Elijah, don’t do that again or you are going to get a spanking!” we hollered. He did not immediately respond so we reiterated our case before he had time to counter our argument with some reason why he should be allowed to continue.

“Son if you don’t stop that right now you are going to be in big trouble.” We emphasized
Our four year old Madelyn, the law enforcer, elected to help carry the message of our rules, “yeah if you don’t stop you are going to get a spanking,” she said accusingly. Now of course this added a new dimension to our problem. As parents we do allow a four year old to boss a two year old, because we set our selves up as the authority in the home, and such actions usurp our control.

“Madelyn, you are not the parent,” my wife added. And so it went for about ten minutes on the way to grandma’s house. Scolding, mediating, sighing, and considering whether or not to continue driving or turn around and go home. Ten minutes seemed like and hour in an environment like that. Alas we made it. Once there we had some argument about having to wear shoes, but then my wife and I turned them loose in the back yard while we caught our breath.
The struggle was not over of course. “Playing” has a tendency to turn into “fighting” and then into “crying.” When it did they both sought us out in our air conditioned sanctuary.

“He hit me!” the four-year-old cried.

“She is being mean to me,” the two-year-old defended. And around we went again on the crazy-go-round.

It made me wonder why we try to take them any where, but then I remembered that they are just as crazy at home, and maybe it is fair to share the insanity some times with family and friends. Family can be a good regulator. When I am completely stressed out from all the fighting, crying, and questioning I can lose my grip on sanity. It is then that I am likely to say or do something unloving, and therefore unchristian. But when there are family and friends watching and perhaps even helping, it is easier to stay calm.

In all of this madness, which we call life, God is there. These events were building up to a test of my faith, or if not a test, at least an opportunity to be reminded of God’s love.

I was relaxing on the couch when my wife suggested, that I swim with Elijah. He is after all only two and although he had on floaties and there were plenty of people in the pool, it was prudent that I attend to him. He has no healthy fear of water which can be dangerous for a boy who doesn’t swim without aid.

Reluctantly I put my swim trunks on, a little self conscious because I am beginning to grow a gut, and got into the water which seemed surprisingly cold for July. As I eased in and my son reacted with joy at my presence my attitude inched towards optimism. I finally submerged myself and after a few minutes the water felt refreshing.

I ensured that Eli did not lose his balance and that he did not sink into the water. I played with him by lifting him out and going under myself only to pop up and surprise him. By now I was actually enjoying myself and forgetting the drama he directed in the car on the way there.
I was rewarded with something that only a child can give and only a parent can understand. Elijah wrapped his arms around me in the pool and whispered “I love you daddy,” in his sweet and innocent toddler voice. Those words melt my heart. The pure and unconditional love that a child can express is precious beyond anything in this world. It is why I believe Jesus told his disciples that “the kingdom of heaven belongs to those such as these.” Children love like no other human can love. They love, agape love, closer to the way God loves us, and that is why they are favored.

I was glad then, that I endured the fighting and the crying, because after it all, my son loved me, and knowing that my God, my wife, and my children love me helps me to endure many things, least of all fighting and crying.

Nail Artist

2008-07-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

Most people are surprised by the smell of a beauty shop. The hair products, the nail polish, it all joins together to form a noxious fog. I don’t mind it anymore of course, and maybe I never did. To me it is a comfortable smell. It is familiar. It is where I work.

I have been painting nails for nearly twenty years now. A lot of people make fun of it as though the only women who paint nails dropped out of school or something. While that is often true, I myself finished high school but just barely, it isn’t fair to all of us. We really are artists. I don’t say that to mean that we are all Picassos or something, but we do paint in creative and beautiful ways. Our canvas is much smaller, but that might make it more challenging. No matter what people think, I take pride in what I do.

There are things I don’t like about painting nails for sure. I don’t like hunching over my table while I work. I don’t like the way my hands hurt after working all day. And sometimes I don’t like the other women I work with, but there are a lot of good things too.

I can make my own hours mostly because I schedule my own clients. I set my own prices based on what I think my clients will pay. I have a loyal group of clients that I have built up over the years, so that I don’t worry much any more whether I am going to have work.

The thing I like the best though is talking to clients while I work. They have no where to go while I paint their nails so most of the time they talk to me. Of course I would rather some of them never open their mouths, but there is nothing I can do about that other than work faster.

You see I am much more than a nail artist. I don’t just mechanically paint flowers or happy faces on women’s nails. I talk to them. I am like a counselor, priest, sister, mother, and daughter. I have to be very skilled at relating to people because this job is all about people.

You would be amazed at what people will tell me. I have clients from all walks of life; Nurses, teachers, students, secretaries, housewives, dancers, and even a politician. They all have very different lives and for many the only thing they have in common is me. I am a stitch that hold all of these different threads together, and it is a very interesting tapestry.

One client of mine, “Deja,” had been dancing (stripping) for three years. When I first started painting her nails it sounded a bit glamorous. I used to ask her about it every time she came in; which was frequently. She was beautiful of course, and I thought that it must be fun to dance and have the attention of everyone in the club. “I could never do that in front of everyone,” I confessed. At that she just laughed and puffed up a bit as though she possessed a courage not found in most women.

For the longest time I thought she was really brave and confident until one day she admitted that she always got high before she danced. I was shocked and asked why. She fought off tears as she explained that she doesn’t want to dance, but only does it because the money is so good. “I feel ashamed that I am a dancer and I wouldn’t normally do the things I do on stage, so I have to get high first or I can’t perform,” she explained. Of course her confession changed our relationship. I never again asked her about work, and instead we pretended that she wasn’t a dancer at all.

Finally one day she missed an appointment. I called her to see if she wanted to reschedule but her phone was disconnected. I never saw her again. I often wonder what happened to her. When I want to believe it was something good I imagine that she found a man who really cared about her and she ran away with him leaving the club and the pole behind. What I worry about though is the possibility that she was arrested for hooking or drug possession or worse was murdered by some crazy guy. Since I don’t know the real answer I choose to believe the fairytale ending.

Another client of mine was having an affair and told me all about it every time I did her nails. It started off with her complaining about her husband. For a year or so she complained that he didn’t please her and he would rather golf than make love with her. She suspected that he was sleeping with a woman he worked with but never had any proof. Her complaints were minor really: he snores, he is getting fat, he watches too much football, he doesn’t understand her, he isn’t romantic. Those are the usual suspects and I hear them all the time. Still he made good money and she was a bit spoiled by him, but managed to complain anyways. In a lot of ways I thought she was being needy and did not appreciate what her husband provided for her, but I did not want to offend her so I kept my mouth shut.

Then one day she came in grinning from ear to ear like a kid in a candy store. She couldn’t wait to tell me that she met someone. When I asked who it was she explained that there was a guy at the gym she had been flirting with over a couple of weeks. She was giddy over it because he was in his late twenties—she is in her thirties—and was in great shape. “He makes me feel like a woman,” she explained. I told her to be careful, but she dismissed my advice by saying, “right now I don’t care what happens, I just need some excitement.”

The next time I saw her she was overflowing with excitement. Without me asking she sat down and blurted, “I’ve done it. I slept with him.” She told me that they continued flirting at the gym until she couldn’t bare it any longer and told him that she wanted to meet him for a little, “extra work out” as she put it. He met her and they met three more times after that. She was on cloud nine as she spilled the details of their encounter all while I painted her nails. I warned her again that she was risking a lot, but she responded by saying, “I have never felt like this about my husband. I didn’t know I could feel like this.”

Finally she came in over a month later. She looked awful. Her roots were long, she had on no make-up, and she was wearing sweat pants. She had apparently broken a nail or two and then had torn the rest of her acrylics off. He nails needed a lot of work so I got started. I didn’t even want to ask her what was wrong, but I figured I couldn’t sit there for thirty to forty minutes without talking so I asked. She broke down.

“I screwed up,” she sobbed burying her face in the crook of one arm while holding her other hand out so that I could continue working. “Mark was married.” Mark was the name of her boyfriend I guessed though she had not told me. I didn’t understand what the issue was exactly because she was married also but I didn’t want to seem insensitive so I waited for her to continue. “His wife found out about us. She followed him one day and then showed up at my house and confronted me in front of my family. I felt like such a whore.” I wanted to confirm that she was a whore, but again kept quiet.

“Now everything is ruined. My husband is divorcing me. My kids don’t understand. They think I am a bad person. I moved out and I don’t know what I am going to do. I haven’t seen or heard from Mark in two weeks. I left him messages and texts but he won’t talk to me. I lost everything.”

She continued sobbing and telling me all of the things that changed since she was caught cheating. I felt sorry for her because she lost so much, but deep inside I felt like she had made her bed and now had to sleep in it—excuse the pun. But I know better than to tell my clients what I really think. I listen and comfort them. Rarely do I give advice. Mostly they don’t want any. Most of the time they just want someone they can talk to. I am that person.

Such is the human drama that takes place at my work station in the fog of nail polish, surrounded by the hum of hair dryers. You see I am so much more than a nail artists. I am a friend, a counselor, and a confidant. Women need me more for the companionship and consolation than for the fills or designs I paint on their nails. Sure I don’t have a degree on the wall from a university, and I don’t get to add letters in front or behind my name because of some education, but I have women who depend on me to be there for them. It is just part of my job.

Work Space

2008-07-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

Since we moved into the much larger new house I have surprisingly had difficulty finding room to work. Our new home is twice the size of our old one and yet there is little room for my laptop and books. In fact my books were stored in the garage since moving which displeased me a great deal. As for my laptop, it and I have been refugees from place after place. We have begun to feel like gypsies without a home to lay our heads.

At first I had my computer on the sole desk in the house since we left my computer desk for refuse when we moved. As displeasing as this was to me, I was patient because I knew that eventually I would land a much better place to work than I was accustomed to. My wife however placed her laptop there also and so displaced mine. She uses her's, which is much better than mine, for shopping on E-Bay and checking email, two highly important functions, and that is about it. (That is a whole separate issue). So I then moved my computer and I to our dining room table. We actually have a legitimate dining room now, but with three kids mostly eat in the kitchen so I figured we were safe there.

I was wrong. When my wife hosted a scrapbooking party I was asked to move my things. I acquiesced because I thought that it was a temporary move. After all the former kitchen table is now upstairs in the loft, and was being used for scapbooking. After a few days however it became clear that the dining room table was now the permanent place for her scrapbooking things, of which there is much.

The odd thing is that the upstairs table remained a place for scrapbooking as well. I was left to sitting on the couch in the living room with my computer on my lap to work. Not ideal in my mind.

One day in frustration I moved to the kitchen table though I knew that such a move would put me directly in the path of inconvenience. Now I was taking up a third of that table, but was getting some work done as was satisfied as to the arrangement.

It did not take long however for my things to come in conflict with the function of our household. My wife was searching for something on the table and in frustration tossing my things around when I finally blew.

I took a stand and decided that I would not be displaced any longer. I laid out my complaints and reviewed the history of my sojourn, and my wife gave in and cleared off a quarter of the dining room table for me to work.

I was a bit disappointed because I thought that I deserved at least half of that table since she now had a table and three fourths to my one fourth, but it was a start, and I was still optimistic that my workspace blues would be alleviated soon. As it was we had commissioned a man to build us a wall length workspace including bookshelves and cabinets. I yearned for it as a man yearning for a home.

I fumed a few more times as I sat down to work only to find scrapbooking paper on my computer or pictures covering my books, but I help my tongue. Many of my things had fallen to the floor and yet somehow I drove on. In all of that chaos I managed to create wonderful lessons for the approaching school year and managed a little writing.

At last Woody (that is the carpenter’s name) brought over our finished cabinets and assembled them in our loft. Home at last! Now I have a great workspace from which I am currently writing. My beloved books are above me on shelves. My tools (stapler, holepuncher, pencil sharpener) are all here. I am in heaven. As of yet very few scrapbooking materials have found there way onto the desk, and I aim to keep it that way. Now I have little excuse for not writing. I guess I will have to take responsibility for my own failure. Hmmmm... maybe I should have been happy being homeless.

Car Wash

2008-06-27T17:32:00.001-07:00

It is stiflingly hot in the August sun, but this is when business is best for us. It seems that no one cares to wash their car in the winter as if somehow it was less dirty because of the temperature. As soon as the sun burns hot it apparently illuminates all the winter grime on everyone’s car. I mostly like to dry and do the final cleaning; windows, chrome, mirrors, interior. It is hard work, but I stay busy and some of the people I work with are fun enough. Mostly I stay to myself I guess. I never really fit in well you know. Too odd I guess. I like people though, I just never seem to say or do the right thing. I make people uncomfortable most of the time. Such is my lot.

I like drying the cars because I get to meet the people who drive them. People are funny. I know because I have a lot of time to encounter them. You can learn a lot about someone by studying their car. I see all types.

There are the pretenders. The ones who drive a car they can’t afford, wear clothes that cost too much, and spend money on women they don’t have. Mostly sports cars, domestic or Asian, SUVs domestic, or pick up trucks, lifted or lowered, never factory. I hate them because they are especially anal about their cars. It is as if the cars are the most important symbol of their social status.

“There is a smudge there…some dirt there…can you wipe the rims again?” They are never satisfied. And when I am finished they will more than likely not tip me. Just some stupid remark that betrays their true lack of intelligence like, “keep it real,” or “be cool man.” Repulsive.

Then there are the truly rich folks; the birds as I call them because they fly above everyone else and only land if they need something from us land dwellers. If it is a man he is probably middle aged. Maybe 40 or 45. A woman? She could be younger because she is probably married to the 40 or 45 year old man. She figured out that an older man has a career, assets and stability that the college aged man lacks. She spends her days getting her nails done, working out, and getting her car washed of course. I like these folks, not because they are pleasant, they may very well be horrible people, but because they do not pretend. They are rich and they act like it. Fine with me.

They might be a little picky, but normally their car was not dirty in the first place because it is almost always under a covered parking spot or safely parked in the garage. They drive the true luxury vehicles. BMWs Mercedes, Cadillac, Audi, rarely anything else. They wash it as though it is required maintenance for a car that cost more than I make in a year. They tip well, but say nothing to me as though I am not there at all and leave. Sometimes they are even on the phone as they take their keys and leave not even bothering to inspect my work. They had me a ten and take off, chatting about something simple men like me couldn’t understand. I don’t mind.

The ones I like the most are the family types; the shepherds as I call them. Minivans, SUVs for the seats not the rims. Their cars are more work than most. Cheerios, crackers, cookies, fingerprints on the windows and most likely some smelly socks. Their cars are the ones in most need of cleaning. I enjoy doing it because I almost feel like they deserve it. It always seems like they are the ones working the hardest. Even at the car wash they are working. Telling a kid to put the popcorn from the ground down, chasing a little one down before he runs into the street, soothing a crying baby, it all seems so exhausting. The rest expect me to clean their cars well, these folks are just happy that someone would clean the car, and thankful that they don’t have to do it.

Most of the time they are the ones with the most to complain about when I hand them the keys for a final approval. No doubt there are still some crumbs under the seat or some melted gummy bears in the cup holder, but it looks so much better that they are almost always pleased. They always tip. Not as much as the birds, but then they don’t have as much I figure. They always find time to thank me as they holler at the children, and if their psyche can manage it, a smile. No cell phones, they don’t have time, no rims, they don’t have money, just a car with which they can transport their children to soccer matches or dance practice, Sunday school or preschool. They work the hardest and are the most humble. I want to be like them.

There are others of course that don’t quite fit into these three categories, and plenty of people who don’t ever bring their cars in for a wash, but then I don’t get to see them often. These are the ones I meet the most. The car wash patrons. These are the ones I study, the ones I know well.

Minimum Wage

2008-06-25T19:19:00.000-07:00

I decided while I was getting my car washed that it might be interesting to write some short stories based on the experiences of common jobs that are performed everyday but may not get much recognition. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the guy drying my car, and I suspected that if I worked that job I would enjoy studying the people who's cars I worked on. So I started writing from these perspectives. I will post them as I am ready beginning with the car wash story, which I really enjoy and I hope you do too.

Making the World a Better Place

2008-05-04T23:21:00.001-07:00

Everyone had already left the office of “Earth First,” an independent environmental action group on this Friday afternoon leaving it disorganized and cluttered. The office was situated with periodic desks littered with mountains of papers and computer equipment. On the walls there were various posters and banners with the slogans that the group was using such as, “Earth First,” “Save the Animals,” “Meat is Murder,” and a large banner that read “Making the World a Better Place.” They were only one of many such groups that are growing in popularity and influence.

Of the dozen or so employees and volunteers only one remained. Richard Green was the branch leader for the last five years and was very proud of all that he had done there. In his mid forties, Richard spent most of his life as an activist. He was not exceptionally well built, nor exceptionally handsome. He compensated for his mediocre appearance by trying to make a difference for what he felt was important. He made it his life goal to protect and advocate for the environment and its animals.

During his tenure as leader he had directed many protests, influence legislature, and battled development. His group was responsible for the protection of wetlands that were threatened by agriculture, halted housing projects which threatened the kangaroo rat, and even caused the city to shut down a manufacturing plant which did not meet environmental standards. Needless to say, Richard’s work was quite satisfying for him. He had the sense that he was truly making a difference and protecting the earth. On this day however, he was in for an encounter that would forever change his perspective.

Richard was in his private office (the only one in the building) watching the news as he reclined in his chair. It had been a long week because the group was conducting routine protests at a local car dealership because of the damage that oil using motors cause to the environment.
The news was reporting on the warmer than normal weather forecast for that weekend and Richard shouted at the TV as the newscasters reported.

“See! See! It is going to be 78 degrees this weekend and the normal is only 73. Why are there still people who won’t accept that we are destroying the planet through global warming?” There was no one there to hear his outburst, or so he thought, but he regularly did so anyways.
As Richard was busy searching for confirmation that his crusade is worthwhile, someone slipped into the office. Not until the person was at the doorway to his left did he notice. When he did he jumped a little in his chair.

The person in his office was an older looking woman but strikingly beautiful. She appeared meek with long grey hair with some strands of black and long flowing robe of a shimmering material that shone like morning dew. She was slender and rather tall but leaned on a long staff that was knotted and gnarled wood. Her gown flowed to the ground and even dragged behind her a few feet. Her face glowed, but her eyes were large and pale. Richard did not know what to say to his uninvited guest so he said what nearly anyone would say.

“Who are you and how did you get in here? Do you need help with something? We are closed, so you should come back another time.” The woman did not respond initially but continued to study Richard as though she was amused by him. Although it was not an intelligent response to her lack of engagement, Richard decided to ask his questions again only louder and slower. “Ma’am, who are you and why are you here? Is there something you need help with? You really should come back Monday when we open,” he suggested. For another moment the women did not respond, but when she did it was not to Richard’s question, but rather with a question of her own, but did so without moving anything but her mouth.

“Why do you believe that I need help?” she asked in a soft voice that sounded more like it belonged to a young woman rather than an old one.
“I’m sorry…what?” he stammered.

“Why do you believe that I need your help Richard?” she repeated.

“How do you know my name? And who are you?”

At last the woman gave in to Richard’s inquiry into her identity. She shifted her weight from her staff and stood upright adding another few inches to her stature and nearly filling the doorway. “I am Mother Nature as many of you call me, though that is not how I am known otherwise.”
Richard burst out into laughter as he leaned back in his cushy chair and held his gut. He laugh was shrill and unpleasant to the ear. As he laughed he prodded further. “That is hilarious. Who put you up to this? Was it the staff? Are they still here? I have to hand it to you; I really thought for a minute that you might be Mother Nature the way you look in that costume. You really should use this again this Halloween. It is perfect.”

The woman remained perfectly still and waited for Richard to calm from his fit of laughter. When he did she proceeded.

“I am Mother Nature, as I said, and I have come here to ask you a few things.”

“It is ok doll, I love it. You can give it up now.” There was no reaction in her face which began to frighten Richard. Deep inside of his heart he wanted to believe her identity so he decided to test her.

“Fine then. I am open to you being Mother Nature, but how can I know you are who you say?”

Annoyed but not surprised by the man’s lack of faith, the woman pointed to a fichus tree in the corner of the office. Without taking her eyes off of Richard the tree began to grow. It grew from a mere three feet to six and sprouted more foliage and branches as it did. Furthermore it was greener than ever. When she dropped her arm the tree ceased growing.
Richard’s jaw hung open as he stared at his fichus. “This is unbelievable. You must be Mother
Nature. I can’t believe it. What an honor. I never thought that there was any real Mother Nature.”

“I assure you I am real.”

“I believe you. I apologize for being short with you. What can I do to help you? Whatever it is I will do it.”

“Again you assume that I need your help. Why is it that you think I need help?”
Richard was unable to answer. He wracked his brain for some sort of response but had none so Mother Nature decided to simplify her question.
“What is it that you do Richard?” she asked.

Stammering again, but gaining some confidence as he proceeded, he answered, “well, ah, I fight for the environment. The earth. The animals. I fight for you.”

“And why do you do this?”

“Well because someone has to do it. I mean, the trees and the animals and the whole planet cannot speak, so I speak for them all.”

“How can you know that you are saying what they would want you to say?”

“Well I guess I cannot know for sure, but we simply try to defend the things that need defending.”

“I see. And you feel as though the earth, the animals, the trees are helpless?”
Richard could see that he was being led, but he did not know to where, so he answered the way in which she predicted, and the way which was true to what he believed. “Well yes. People are cutting down trees all over the world, polluting the air, and destroying habitats for animals. If I don’t do something, then who will?”

“It sounds like you are a real hero Richard.” Richard wanted to enjoy the compliment but he was not a stupid man and could tell that Mother Nature was being condescending. There was an uncomfortable pause before Mother Nature continued her inquisition.
“Is what you are doing good in the long run?”

“Of course it is. I work so that the earth will survive long after I am gone. I am fighting to save the planet. What is wrong with that?”

Mother Nature stepped into Richard’s office a couple steps until she stood close enough to his desk to tower over it. “Do you think I am weak? Do you think me so frail that I can be extinguished by mere mortals?” He voice rose in volume and deepened so that she did not sound so much like a kind woman, but rather an angry queen. “I have more power than you can imagine. You think that you could kill me or my domain?” She pointed to the fichus that she so impressively grew before Richard’s eyes. He looked at it just in time to see it wilt to dust.
“I have the power to decide what lives and what dies. I can wipe humans off the earth if I wanted. Earthquakes, typhoons, floods, blizzards, I control them all. Can men stop them? No they cannot.” Her eyes turned black and Richards clutched the arms of his chair in fear. She laughed a great and full laugh then calmed.

“What can you do for me? Nothing!”

Richard was not satisfied, and since she settled down he gathered the courage to challenge Mother Nature. “But what about global warming? What about endangered species? What about the damage done to rivers and lakes? Do you not need me to help protect those?”
“Do you not get it little man? You are nothing. You think that you are important. Many humans think that they are very important. But in the grand scheme of things you are not. You think that you are the reason the earth is warming? You are not. You cannot even accurately predict the weather, let alone do something about it and yet you think that by driving your cars, and using electricity that you have the power to warm this planet? You are not important enough.
“Do you think that I cannot change it? Did you not hear about the huge blizzards I unleashed in the north? Have you ignored the feet of snow I dumped on entire cities? You think that if it is warm one day that you have proof of global warming, but you are all fools. Do you think that I could not freeze you right here?”

Nature’s eyes turned white and the temperature dropped dramatically. Richard began to shiver and his computer monitor fogged up.

“I am in charge! Not you! Not any mortal!” Just as quickly as it began the temperature returned to normal. Richard no longer had any arguments. He could do nothing but sit in awe of the being in front of him.

“I came here today to warn you. Mankind’s greatest threat is not his destructive capabilities. It is not nuclear weapons, or slash and burn agriculture or carbon dioxide emissions. Mankind’s greatest threat is his own arrogance. The reason why you and others truly admire the earth is because everything fits together. Everything has a purpose. You and others like you fear that you have no purpose so you choose to make yourself important by doing what you feel is right, but in doing so you become arrogant. You feel that you are better than other humans because you believe that they are doing wrong while you do right, and so you feel superior. You corrupt your place by doing so.

“Even the lion does not believe it to be better or more valuable than the gazelle. In fact it values the gazelle because it gives it nourishment. In the same manner then the lion values other lions as it values itself.”

Nature’s voice softened and she again sounded more like a kind gentle woman. She again leaned over on her staff so that she did not appear so intimidating. She continued, “So you should value other people. Do not fight them on my behalf but rather help them. Quit fighting a battle for someone who never asked you to fight and ally with your fellow man. You hurt people with what you do. You think that you are helping me, but I do not need your help. I survived long before you were here and will survive long after. You were not put here to love trees or rivers or lakes, but to love other people.”

Nature paused to let Richard consider her instructions. Rather than argue or counter Nature’s advice he began to sob. He buried his head in his hands and leaned over onto his desk.
“Why does this displease you?” Nature asked. “Is not this command easier than what you have been doing?”

After a minute Richard was able to answer, “I have put everything I have into this crusade. It is my life, my religion. It is everything I have. Without it I do not know what to do.”
“Do as I instructed. Refocus your efforts into helping people rather than battling them. Thought there will always be some you do not like; they are all your brothers and sisters.”
“I don’t know how. I have only known this.”

“You will learn. Think about what I said and you will discover how you can help. I am leaving now, and you will not ever meet me again, but do as I say so that you truly can make a difference.”

Nature turned and wisped out of the office as though she was a breeze. Richard sat in his chair and mused, questioning whether the exchange between he and Nature and actually occurred or whether it was a hallucination. Then he glanced over to his fichus and found it wilted away. He sobbed some more and then slept on his own desk.

When he awoke it was night, but he did not leave the office, instead he decided to remodel it. He remained there all weekend and when the employees arrived Monday they found that they had not arrived to the “Earth First” office, but rather the “People First” one. Richard explained to them that he had a revelation and that the group was going to refocus its attention. Some left, but others stayed and helped Richard launch scores of community projects such as day care centers, libraries, playgrounds, career centers, drug and alcohol rehabilitation centers and others.

Five years to the day Richard met Mother Nature, he was serving soup at a kitchen when an old lady thanked him for all that he was doing, and with a wink of her eye she said that he was “really making the world a better place.” He thanked her and smiled because he truly knew that she was right.

Milestones

2008-05-01T23:13:00.000-07:00

I reached a couple milestones in the blogging world. Firstly I now have more than 1000 hits on my blog. Sure it seems low, and well it is low, but you have to start somewhere. If only I could sell a book to each person who visited my blog. Secondly I posted 100 posts. This could have been ackomplished a while ago had I been more devoted to my blog lately, but I have not. Now with three children and more than 200 students I have not found myself even using my computer let alone using it to blog. Still I crawled my way to 100 posts and hope to post another hundred in the next year or so. It has been fun and while other blogs are closed after the initial enjoyment wears off and the tediousness of writing consistently sets in, I will fight through it. I promise. I am also interested in doing some more things with this blog. I do not know what, but I will think of something. I must seriously think about putting the polish to the Sureshot 2 and getting off to publishers. If I can look at a chapter every couple days or so, I can be finished in less than a month. I want to be done by summer so I can spend summer writing something new and trying to find a publisher. Well wish me luck with that.

Parasite

2008-04-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

Without a doubt we are the most evil.
Not even snakes, cobras, and such compare.
We are a greater nuisance than a bear.
We are more slimy than a giant eel.
We are not half as cute as baby seals.
A lions’ mane’s far better than our hair.
In some respects a bat is less a scare.
While some are in the street we eat big meals.
We cut down trees for our so-called big needs.
We kill each other for no reason at all.
Do we pause, think t plant a few small seeds?
Do we decide to pay for our fatal
Deeds? We all grow like weeds from gardens, Earth.
We are a thorn in Mother’s side; parasite.

When Chaos Chatches

2008-04-10T23:12:00.000-07:00

When a thick dark dank fog
Encircles the valley like a bog
And chokes the radiant sun
Ears straining to hear the gun.

As fears grip the lungs and squeeze
Chaos overcomes the mind with ease
Crippling legs like a black cancer
You’re at a loss for the healing answer.

Your enemies stand right beside you
With hopeful eyes. Each time is a new
Battle that must be bravely won,
Alas one thing is left to be done.

Look not for an ally to help the fight
For it is you who holds all the might
You cannot put forth your best
Until your mind is at rest.

So breathe easy and steady my friend
For soon, very soon, it will end
When the legs suddenly take ill
Your heart can win with shear will.

The Perfect Plan

2008-03-23T11:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter everyone. I know I have not posted frequently lately, but the good news is that I have been writing. In fact I wrote the script to the Easter program that was performed today at my church Central Community Church here in Fresno. It went well and I was very humbled to have contributed to it. I decided to post it here for you all to read as well. It was challenging to write a script. It was my first attempt and I found it quite different from writing fiction or essays. Anyways, I think it was a good first effort. It is called "the Perfect Plan."

The Perfect Plan

God the ultimate creative being chose to create the world we know. Though it did not appear then as it does not, he in his wisdom planned everything to sustain his creation physically, but also spiritually. The Bible which means “the Word” is the story of God and his creation. The amazing part of it is that God’s plan is perfect and therefore his is the greatest story ever told. This is an attempt to share the story in a visual way and to also understand the story better from God’s perspective. It is my hope that by viewing these events from God’s perspective, we will see God’s unending love for his creation, rebellious people included.

God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit are seated together. Lights are on them alone, the rest of the stage is dark. God the Father begins:

G: I have decided to create something wonderful. There has been nothing like it before and there will be nothing like it again. It will be completely unique.

S: That is wonderful. What will this creation look like?

God gets up and moves to the edge of the stage between the two screens

F: We will begin by creating by creating light and dark. Light and dark visuals appear on the screen as he explains. We will call the light day and the dark night. Then we will create water and sky, then separate the waters with land. Images show the creation process. Then we will make plants and trees to fill the world with. We will make them of all types.

Jesus moves next to the Father and explains, moving his hands across as though he is imagining all the animals. The Spirit too moves next to God listening intently.

J: I like it Father. I will help you. We should make animals of all sorts then. Animals for the air and different ones for the land and even different ones for the waters. They will all be different and amazing in their own way. This will be our greatest creation yet. There will be nothing else like it. When do we get started?

Jesus and the Spirit begin to walk back as though going off to work.

F: We won’t stop there. We can do even better. We are going to create something to rule over all the beasts and all the land.

Jesus and the Spirit return to God’s sides. Light begins to shine on the garden in the back ground.

S: Good idea, a caretaker creation. Like the angles to manage things in heaven, these creations can manage things on earth. What did you have in mind Father?

F: I have a very special being in mind. We will take dust and make a man. We will make him in our image, and we will place him in the garden we will create to manage it. We will even make him a companion, a woman to help him.

Adam and Eve rise from the garden and appear to tend to the trees.

J: In our image? This is a special creature.

F: Yes but that is not the best part. The best part is he will have free will.

Jesus and the Spirit light up in surprise

S: Free will!?! How are we going to give this creature free will?

F: I will allow him to eat from every tree in the beautiful garden we will make, all except for the tree of knowledge of good and evil. If the man eats from that tree he will die.

S: This man will surely eat from the tree eventually, and then he will die, and what then?

F: He will. Both he and his companion will be deceived. They will eat from the tree and then be expelled from the garden. Sin will enter into their hearts and one day they will die.

Adam and Eve mime the eating of the fruit. God walks towards the two and gestures to them. They appear afraid, then when God points away they flee.

J: Well won’t that ruin everything Father? Won’t that destroy the creation?

The three all turn back to the audience

F: It will certainly change it, but all will work out in the end. I have a plan to help man and bring him back.

S: But Father, once man knows of good and evil, he will do evil, and then we cannot bring him here. He cannot do evil and live among us. What will become of this creation?

F: No he cannot dwell among us while there is sin in his heart, but we will find one who will be faithful. One who will follow my commands. His name will be Abraham because he will be the father of our people. I will establish my covenant with him and through him a great nation will be born, a nation that will follow us.

Abraham appears from the side walking and God stops him while continuing to explain. Abraham drops in worship but God raises him up and shakes his hand to signify the covenant.

J: Even then father, how will we know which of these people belongs to us and which do not? How will they set themselves apart from all the other people?

F: We will establish a covenant of circumcision with Abraham. He and all his children will set themselves apart through this act. It will be their defining characteristic in the flesh, though I much more desire their hearts to be pure.

Abraham continues to kneel near God as he explains to Jesus and the Spirit.

S: How do we know that this Abraham will be faithful? After all he will have free will. How can we trust him?

F: I will test his faith. He will have a son, one he thought he never would have. I will instruct him to sacrifice his son to me. If he, a loving father, can sacrifice his son to me, then he will have proved his devotion. He will pass this test.

Abraham mimes, taking a boy and preparing to sacrifice him

J: Surely father you do not desire for him to actually kill his son.

G: Of course son. I will stay his hand, and provide him with a proper sacrifice, one that will take the place of his son.

As God is speaking he stares at Jesus thinking about his eventual sacrifice

S: That is good Father. This way our people will be set apart. Specially marked as belonging to Abraham’s family. But still, they will have trouble. This fallen world will always entice them. We need something else to help mankind, perhaps I could dwell among them.

F: There will be a time for that my Spirit, but they will not be ready then. No, first they must know the law. We will find a leader from among our people, one called Moses. He will guide our people through hardships with our help. They will be a stubborn people and will require many lessons before they submit themselves to us. I will give this Moses our law, and he will teach it to our people. He will teach them how we desire them to live, holy and righteous.

Moses appears during this scene. God meets him and puts his hand on Moses’ shoulder. Moses walks to the edge of the stage and then leads others onto it (3-4). God stops Moses and hands him the Ten Commandments. Moses receives them bowing and then turns to teach them to the people. We show an image of the Ten Commandments on the screen.

J: Even then Father, the law will only show them what they are doing wrong. It cannot redeem them. They may learn that they are a fallen people, but the law alone will not end their sinning, nor excuse the sins they have already committed. Furthermore, they will not be able to keep the law. It will only condemn them.

F: I know my son, but until they know that they fall short, they will not submit. Man’s greatest stumbling block will be himself. The law will help him to evaluate himself and know that he is lacking. Until they are aware of their sin, they cannot be cleansed.

J: I understand but how do you intend to cleanse them then? They will always want to be like the rest of the people, even our chosen ones. They will want to be like every other nation.

F: I know my son. It is true that they will try to be like the pagans. Our people will enter a land that we will choose for them and they will establish their kingdom there. We will be their king, but that will not please them. We will have to select a king for them so that they can be like the other nations of the world.

S: If we must do this, then we must select one that will be true. It will not be easy. Out people will want the strongest and bravest man. We will need to look at the man’s heart.

A few men line up near the edge of the stage and the Spirit begins to look them over as he speaks. He rejects the first ones.

F: We will find one. His name will be David and he will be a man after our own heart. He will win many battles for our people because he will be humble and true. He will lead our people justly. We will even commission him to draw up plans for a temple do that our people will have a place to worship. It is there that we will dwell on earth. It is there that they can meet us.

The Spirit selects “David” and David steps out from the group. He then leads the men in a “charge” off the stage. He alone remains and bows before God as God hands him “blueprints” for the temple. The other men return. David mimes directing them and then passing them the blueprints. We show an image of the temple on the screen.

J: Father, that too will not do. A temple? They will come to idolize the temple. It will become all about the physical building and less about communing with us. I fear that this too will lead the people away from us. It simply will not do.

F: It is true. The temple is not my ultimate goal for our people. It is nor what I want, but they will not be ready for what I desire from them. The temple is not ideal, but it will prepare them for future plans.

S: It won’t last. Their loyalty, their devotion will fade. Their kings will not be faithful. They will stray. The temple will have to be destroyed. We cannot allow them to worship a building. We also cannot dwell in a place where sacrifices to pagan gods are made. If they are going to worship, it must be from a pure heart.

F: I know, I know, the temple will have to go. Our people will suffer huge defeat. They will be crushed for their sins and their unfaithfulness. Their enemies will enslave them and they will be scattered like sand in the wind. They will feel that we have abandoned them, but we will not. Even then they will be our people and we will be their God.

J: But how then will we ever get them to return? How can they be redeemed?

Pause and God looks painfully at his son

F: There is only one way. (Pause) You must go to them son.

J: I? But why? Is there no other way?

F: There is none.

Pause as Jesus steps away to consider the proposal

J: Very well father, I will do that for them. How will you have me go? As a flashing light? Brilliant and bright? Yes, I could draw them to us that way. Be revealing our glory and magnificence to them, they will surely bow then.

F: No my son. I am not sending you in a flash of light. I do not want them to obey out of fear or amazement, but out of love.

J: Love? But how will we redeem them through love?

F: Through you my son. You will go as an infant, a baby, born of a woman, a descendent of our servant David.

A woman steps onto the stage carrying a baby and rocking it softly, God Jesus and the Spirit watch her half turned

J: A baby? I will leave this heaven to be born of a human woman? That is surprising indeed, truly a humble way to enter the world. The very world I will help to create.

S: But Father, how will he be in human form? We are divine.

F: He will be both fully human, experiencing all of the things humans will experience so that he can know their pain and feel their hurts. But he will also be fully divine and perform miraculous things, casting out demons, healing the sick, and even raising people from the dead.

S: This is a strange plan indeed. Will I play a role as well?

F: Yes my Spirit. You will be with him when he submits himself to cleansing in a river. I want to show the people what I desire of them so when the Son is baptized, you will descend on him so that all of the people will know that such things please me.

Show a picture of the baptism on the screen

J: But what then? Am I to merely live among them as an example?

F: Not at all. You will select some to teach and instruct closely on our ways. You must help them to understand that we have so much more planned for them than they realize. You must help them to change so that they may enter our kingdom.

Some men (3-4) wander out and Jesus gathers them. They sit at his feet and appear to listen to him closely.

S: But will we not have done this already? We will have given them law, a king, a temple, and now the Son is going to live with them. But they will reject us still. They will continue to sin. They will still be unrighteous, dirty as grave clothes, and unable to return to us. What can we do to save them from this fate?

F: The son will have to die.

S,J: What!?!

J: Die! But father why? How? For them?

F: Yes for them. You will be betrayed, slandered, falsely accused, beaten, and eventually murdered.

Images of these acts will flash on the screens

J: Are you sure? Murdered? But what will that accomplish?

F: Through your death the penalty, the debt of their sins can be forgiven.

J: But death? Will they be worth it?

F: They will never be worthy, but we will love them anyways, and I want them to return to us so you must go and fetch them and bring them back to us.

S: Is that the end then? The Son’s death? This is surely a tragic story.

F: But it isn’t. The son will rise from the death resurrected. The people will rejoice and this act will save the people from their own deaths. The Son will live among them for a while longer finishing the lessons he began.

The people come running over to surround Jesus all touching him to make sure he is real, then kneeling near him to listen

J: Yes! It will work! This is a great plan father! Then we will have our creation back, our children.

F: Yes but then it will be our time to draw all of them to us. You will send the men out and instruct them to gather all they find and show them the path to us. The people leave from Jesus, a new person comes walking near Jesus “Saul”. One you will find will be named Saul. He will hate our people and kill them even. You will blind him Son and he will become our apostle to the pagans, the gentiles. He will be a powerful witness, spreading the good news throughout the world, even those outside of Abraham’s family. All will hear of your death and resurrection my son, so they all may enter our kingdom.

Paul goes out and begins bringing people from the audience, perhaps some that have been placed there

S: This plan is perfect. It will surely draw the people to us in love. Love for the son’s sacrifice.

F: Yes and you my Spirit, you will dwell among them as well, even inside of each one that believes in the resurrection of the Son. You will guide them and help them to live pure lives.

The spirit moves among the people who have gathered in the center of the stage

S: I will gladly go, but I still sense that some will not turn to us. Some will reject this plan and live for themselves.

The people in the center disperse around the stage and busy themselves with individual things. At this point there need be an assortment of people representing not only ancient Rome, but also modern day

F: Sadly it is true, but the son will return.

J: A second time? As a baby once more?

F: No. This time you will come in all our glory. You will come this time to gather everyone to us so that all may be judged.

J: I will judge them Father?

F: Yes and because of the sacrifice you will make, an innocent death, you alone will be allowed to judge between the just and the unjust, the believers and the non-believers.

Jesus moves around the stage and all of the people follow him

J: So be it. Then I will judge and separate those who have pure hearts, loving hearts, from those who have selfish and hard hearts.

Jesus casts some of the people there away

S: This is a perfect plan. Once they are judged, all that remain will bow in worship and sing in chorus. The kingdom will be grand. The people who remain kneel to worship. It will take much patience and diligence, but it is perfect all the same. The people will respond to our love for them. Though some may never return to us, many will and the kingdom will flourish.

F: Excellent, the plan is set then, let us begin.

The stage goes dark except for the Father Son and Spirit at the edge of the stage, all the people move off.

J: We are with you Father, let us create this wonderful world so that we may enjoy it.

Jesus and the Spirit wrap an arm around God and God each of them in a picture of the trinity united

On the screen or have a narrator read, or both:

Revelation 22:12-13 Behold I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.

Written by: Phillip Brunnengraeber

Book For January

2008-02-15T21:28:00.000-08:00

Ok so I didn't get around to writing about it for a while, but I read a great book in January... The Screwtape Letters. I loved this book and managed to read it in less than a week without even reading every day. I really couldn't put it down. As I read I was amazed at how well C.S. Lewis understood the temptations and sins of regular people and managed to write about it in a way that was simply gripping. Though I spoke with a few of my friends about this book and a couple of them said that as they tried to read it in high school it was beyond their grasp. I could see how a person who has not battled with sin on a daily basis and struggled to avoid sinning. Furthermore the glimpse into the demon world was very interesting because Lewis did not fall victim to clichés but instead painted a new picture of hell. Instead of the fire and brimstone image many of us have, he described hell as more of a cooperation whose goal is to derail people from a proper Christian walk. A+ in my book, or rather, Lewis'.

All The Right Reasons

2008-01-06T18:12:00.000-08:00

Beaming a wide grin at one another as they hold hands in the park.
A wish come true that they found each other through the dark.
Smiling uncontrollably since the day that they promised to forever love and cherish.
Home they sit and bathe in the love that they have for the other.
Sunshine pours in through the windows and soaks the couple embraced.
A friend for life is what the two are and will be forever.
Yellow flowers brighten the kitchen table as they eat their meals together.
Gold rings are a poor symbol of the purity in their hearts.
A dog at their feet as they cuddle on the couch and whisper soft tender words.
Mouths pressed lovingly together now as they will be forever.
They are a couple that got married for all the right reasons.

Writing? Who has time?

2008-01-06T14:57:00.000-08:00

Well I missed an entire month. I made not one blog entry for December and to be honest I am not surprised. A lot happened over the last month. I made it through the last couple weeks of the semester. Coached my soccer team to several more losses, moved, had about 50 Christmas celebrations, played a lot of Playstation, saw two movies, and plenty more things that I cannot think of right now. Not included in that list is writing of course. I nearly started writing something but gave up on it after remembering that I now have a PS3 (thanks mom). Oh well, I will get back to it sometime. I have found someone so negative and sarcastic that he is a great critic. He has become my new editor. He doesn't like anything, so this should balance well with all of the praise I get from my writing. Too often I hear "this is great! When is the next one coming out?" I know it is not great, and I don't know when the next one will be out. After initial excitement and enthusiasm I have already hit a wall in my ambitions to be a writer. I am finding it difficult to finish my second novel, and I no longer know when I will get to it. I had hopes to do it over the break, but it was all for not. Maybe that should be part of my New Years resolution. To write seriously and consistently. It will not be easy. Teaching has consumed most of my time, coaching a bit more and family all the rest. When can I write? Summer? Who knows? I am now viewing my initial success in writing as failure. Although most of my despair is due to lack of sales and exposure, I do sometimes doubt my ability to write. Oh well, as we said in the army, "drive on soldier, drive on!" Right now that is all I can do.

New Years Resolution

2008-01-01T15:15:00.000-08:00

I resolve to be more disciplined. This applies to my relationships, spiritual life, physical health, and intellectual sharpness. I resolve to not play video games whenever I have free time, or to watch television (we just got cable). I resolve to read a book every month, and to write regularly. I resolve to keep an ongoing journal to reflect and grapple with life. I resolve to finish the Sureshot 2 and to begin another book besides the Sureshot series. I resolve to search in earnest for an agent and new publisher. I resolve to never put anything above my family. I resolve to play with my kids whenever they want to play with me. I resolve to begin running again. I resolve to be the best teacher I can. I resolve to be compassionate and merciful as often as possible. I resolve to never forget that I am flawed and that I must rely on God for everything and that it is because of him and through him that I exist.

Patriarch

2007-11-20T07:43:00.000-08:00

Something heartwarming happened the other day that I wanted to record and share so that I did not forget, but also because I think there is something wonderful in this event, though I am not quite sure how to describe it. I will try to explain it without cheapening anything.

We had a small birthday party for my son Elijah who just turned two. It was intended that we were not to make a huge deal about his birthday because he was only turning two, and although made aware that it was his birthday, he himself would have been just as excited had we told him it was anyone else’s birthday. So Brandi invited “only family” to the party in order to keep it small, but she is from a Portuguese family and inevitably if you are throwing a party, and provide good food, there will be nearly 50 people there even with some absent. So we had a small party for my son, who turned two.

I wish to explain also that I love birthdays, especially my own, but other’s as well. I love them because they are at their core a celebration of life. Whenever I pray at a birthday party now, I always thank God for the person whose birthday it is, and for all of us. It is a wonderful opportunity to praise him for the miracle of birth. This day was for Eli, but it was not him alone who I was thankful for that day.

Elijah was busy as we set up for the party as most two-year-olds are. He was excited to be at his Grandma’s house because she has a lot of dogs, a lot of things to play with, and children simply enjoy a change of scenery. A few people arrived on time, and among them was Brandi’s father who brought with him his wife and also Brandi’s grandparents.

My children are blessed enough to have seven of eight great-grandparents still alive, and three of them were at his party. Now grandpa and grandma Tavares are now in their eighties and as people at that age often are, they are a bit slower than they used to be, in fact recently Grandpa has begun to sit in a wheel chair as walking has become too strenuous. So once they arrived, Grandpa was pushed up to the end of one of the tables.

Immediately some people waited on him as some chips with dip were brought out and some lemonade as well. Now up to this point, Elijah had been acting a bit shy. Whenever there are a lot of people coming around, children get a bit shy, but my son overcame his initial reclusivness as soon as food arrived. He sat himself next to Grandpa Tavares and began to snack on chips with him.

I was seated at a table parallel to their’s and sensed that I ought to pay attention to the pair for no other reason than to observe. Both Grandpa and Eli were given a plate with chips and a cup of lemonade. The bowl with dip was moved to their end of the table and they were pleasantly munching away on the salty snack. After making sure that neither needed anything, everyone else went into the house leaving Grandpa and his great-grandson to snack together.

I cannot say that the pair was even aware of me though I made to effort to hide, only to not disturb the scene. It was simple but made me smile to watch the patriarch of the family dine with one of his many children. They both ate some chips with Grandpa coaching Elijah when he got too much dip or some dripped on the table. I smiled as I observed an example of the natural progression of raising a family before me.

Then Elijah, thirsty from the chips, drank all of his lemonade. When he finished he checked his cup to ensure that he had in fact finished, and upon confirming that there was indeed no more drink in his cup he held it up to Grandpa and asked him for more. I nearly stood up worried that because Grandpa was confined to the chair that I would have to get my son some more, but Grandpa proved generous and resourceful. He took Eli’s cup from him and preceded to gingerly poor some from his own cup into the young boy’s. When satisfied that Elijah had enough he gently placed the cup back on the table, Elijah thanked him in the sweet and pure way that children do, and sipped his cup once more.

It was a subtle and perhaps unimportant exchange to most people, but to me it was beautiful. I watched as a man in his eighties, having done so much throughout his life, enjoy a personal moment with his great-grandson. In that instant my mind flashed to Abraham and I was reminded of what is important in life.

When I am old and nearing the return to my father, I do not pray for fame or fortune, but family. That is all I want. Family. It is so much more important than the rest. Fame fades, fortunes are spent, but family grows. Grandpa and Grandma have six children (one has preceded them home), fifteen or so grandchildren, and another seventeen odd great-grandchildren. That is priceless. No one can take away the legacy that they have left because it is not something that can be forgotten or lost; it is living and breathing in the people who look to them as father and mother. That is my ultimate goal. To be Grandpa, sitting at the table and pouring lemonade for my children. Nothing else seems superior in comparison.

Unaffected

2007-11-17T22:12:00.000-08:00

Black smoke rises up from a burning fire in the middle of the dense dark forest.
Red flames dance in the night like fierce warriors after a victorious battle.
Green trees tower high into the sky, forever reaching for the heavens.
Yellow leaves fall from branches retiring to the soil after a long years work.
Blue, cold, rushing water runs past nearby in a hurry to get wherever it is going.
Grey clouds float lazily through the air saving their strength for a later engagement.
White snow caps the tall majestic mountains like a hat on the head of a boy.
Our pink lips, embraced now and forever, unaffected.

Ouch!!!

2007-11-14T21:39:00.000-08:00

It has been moderately spread around at school that I have a book published. I have been getting used to the varied responses from people. Some people say something like, “that is awesome, wow, amazing,” and others are like, “how many have you sold?” It is frustrating, but I have been making a bit of a game of it. I now like to answer any response with a question. If I get a “oh that is wonderful!” I like to respond, “really? Is it?” It is a bit rude, but helps me to sense whether or not the person is sincere in their enthusiasm. It turns out that most people who are enthusiastic have no intention of ever reading the book. When I get the “how many have you sold?” I now like to answer, “how many do you think?” If they say something really high like “one million,” I point out that I am teaching full time and most understand that had I sold a million copies that I would not be teaching. Mostly people are impressed with a couple hundred which is good because that is how many I have sold.

So something interesting happened recently which stung a little bit. I was in the “lunch room” and some teachers were chatting over a collection of old and bazaar books that someone received from their uncle or something. Many of them were poorly written and or silly. One of the teachers present is an English teacher. She is also a writer and working to publish a book. Though I do not know the details of her efforts to publish and have not read two words of anything she wrote I understand that it has been difficult based on comments from other people. So someone asked why if so many crappy books were published why can’t she get published. A very astute question because a lot of crappy books are published and I suspect that there are a lot of worthwhile authors that cannot get published. Then to my shegrin another teacher reminded everyone that I am published to which she shot back, “well, if you are willing to pay for it, of course you can get published.” OUCH!!! That hurt. Though there was nothing said that is not the truth. In fact I have resigned myself to trying to land a “real” publisher, though I believe that Tate is a “real” publisher that requires “co-investment.” I understand that a small publisher has difficulty competing in a very competitive market while trying to publish all new books from all new authors. No doubt that is very challenging. Still I have been less than pleased with Tate and hope to find another publisher. Keep your fingers crossed and I am glad that said teacher chose to point that fact out to me.

Kids Just Don't Understand

2007-11-12T21:27:00.000-08:00

As I believe I explained earlier I reread The Red Badge of Courage in order to teach it to a group of students who are the “Academic Decathlon” team at our High School. I love the book because it is so deep and psychological and because of the amazing description of the battle. The students I taught it to hated it. I could not understand. They said things like, “it is boring,” “nothing happened” “it was confusing.” I told them that it was supposed to be confusing because war is confusing and the main character was confused. That was the whole point, but they missed it. They were complaining about Henry changing his mind all the time, but they did not get that war was confusing thus the main character was confused. It makes perfect sense but not to them. Then I told them about my book and they said that they would like it. I have no doubt that they would. My book is a result of pressures to entertain. It is exciting and fast paced. They would like it.

Therein lies my revelation. Many books are entertaining. That is what sells. Many books that are considered “masterpieces” are not as entertaining. Students and adults alike find them boring. I myself have never understood the likes of Falkner, and Knowls, yet they are considered masters. So here is the issue. Do I want to be popular or good? It seems that one cannot be both. Perhaps there are some who manage it, but I cannot name any. I personally feel that Twain, and Orwell among others manage it, but others would even find them boring. I do not know how to reconcile this, but it disturbs me. I suppose I will have to first go for popular and then hope for masterpiece. Both are probably years off, but I have to start somewhere, and The Sureshot was the start.

Writer Anxiety

2007-11-08T21:19:00.000-08:00

I have been dying to write more, but continue to be derailed by teaching and coaching among other things. Still I have been learning some things about writing, and have been able to reflect more on my book and revise the second one. I am still on track to finish editing before the New Year and to begin working on getting it published. I am excited about it, but wish that could do it full time. I imagine being able to make my own “writing” room and write as I feel like it. Of course becoming the “full time” writer means dealing with deadlines and pressure to keep writing. I even worry about what happens if I run out of things to write about. What happens when I write something excellent and then cannot match it again? What happens if my writing becomes stale and predictable? What will I do if I cannot sell any books after years of writing full time?

Oh well. I suppose I don’t have to worry about those things yet since I have not even reached the point where I can write full time, and may not, thus relieving me of my need to answer these questions.

Book Review: The Red Badge of Courage

2007-10-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

This book changed me as a reader and a writer when I was in high school. I know it sounds strange but as I was reading this book in 10th grade and we were going over it together in class I knew that it was a great book and some how it made sense to me. It was a break through to actually see the things that the teacher was talking about. It sucks to sit in class and have the teacher explain why Faulkner is such an amazing author, but hate reading his books. That was not the case with this one. I loved it from the first time I read it. I loved the naturalistic writing style that Crane used and the psychological battle that the main character goes through. This book is so much more enjoyable than simply reading about the Civil War. The writing style is amazing, the scenes are vivid and the emotions extreme. The action is different than what some readers are no doubt used to because Crane has a tendency to describe emotions and feelings rather than actual action, but I love that too. It is short enough to read through in an afternoon if you were focused enough and I recommend it. I loved it even more the second time.

Steinbeck my insperation

2007-10-24T20:03:00.000-07:00

Back at the end of September my wife and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary by getting away from our kids for a few days. We went to the coast (Monterey, CA) and had a great time. Because we are not especially exciting now that we have kids we went to the Steinbeck museum in Salinas. It was totally fun! We got to see a film about him and look at all the cool exhibits they made from his books. It was pretty cool. Excerpts from his work was all over the walls and there was even audio and video from them as well. It was awesome to see the collection of work from such a talented man. I have enjoyed all of the books that I have read from him including: Of Mice and Men, Grapes of Wrath, Cannery Row, Tortilla Flat. I want to read others and my wife recently read East of Eden, and said it was fabulous. I look forward to reading it as well. It can be intimidating to read something that is a masterpiece, but it reminds me how far I need to go before I will “arrive” and perhaps I never will. It also encourages me that until writing Tortilla Flat in his thirties, Steinbeck was relatively unsuccessful as a writer. There is hope. Anyways I have always been inspired by Steinbeck since reading Tortilla Flat in high school and I recommend his work to anyone.

Still busy with no better excuse

2007-10-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

I know I have been bad about blogging again, but I simply cannot help it. I am not only teaching now, serving on the deacon’s board, trying to be a loving husband and father, but now I have also added coaching soccer to the list of things that I have to do. It is a blast but it leaves me really busy. I have not had a lot of time to work on my book, but I did manage to finish reading it myself and I was pleased with the way in which the book ended. It needs plenty of spit and polish, but it is going to be good. I have also promised myself that I would rewrite the beginning by the end of November. I hopefully will have time during Thanksgiving break to do a little writing, and I plan on finishing all of the editing before the end of the year so that I can send it out after the new-year. That is my plan anyways. We’ll see how it goes. Besides that enjoy some of the things that I will post over the next couple of days as I try to not look like a completely lame blogger. I also would like to write a couple short stories and have been working on the outline for them so look out for those over the next couple months. Thanks, love you all. Ok well not you, but everyone else.

Book Review: The Saga of the Volsungs

2007-10-04T20:35:00.000-07:00

Alright I know I have been bad about getting to my book reviews, but here is one anyways. I read a few of these already months ago but that is the way it is and there is nothing I can do about it now. One of the books was a short albeit interesting book called The Saga of the Volsungs. It is a very old German epic about similar heroes that you might find in Homer’s tales or some other cultures folk lore. It was fun to read. First of all it is very fantastic, dragons and dwarves and such. I wonder if the Romans were dwarves to the Norse? Anyways, it was strange but good, and at one point I thought that I detected a sent of Arthur in the tale. I recommend it if you are into Homer and the like, otherwise stay clear.

Hills and Holes

2007-09-25T19:36:00.001-07:00

When I was a child,
I ran about,
Playing in the thick mud,
Reading books every night,
Sleeping so softly,
On clouds so high,
With not a care in mind.

I fell in a deep hole,
Dark and damp,
The monster of puberty,
Dragged me down into its’ depths,
I slaved with my pen and paper,
And wrote unintelligible things,
My head was heavy with thought.

Alas, I climbed out,
And rose high atop a hill,
Now I shout what I might,
Smiling in the warm sun light,
Playing under the bright sky,
I nap ever so happily,
And I capture the words of the heart,
With a mind as clear as life.

Too Much

2007-09-24T21:42:00.000-07:00

You say “I love you” still mist I request,
If yours is truly love substantially laid.
Methinks your love so shallow you have made,
If I had dove into your love at last,
My skull would I have cracked in half; so see,
To me is love a special thing, untouched.
I once had loved and found what love could be.
I long to love, have love returned as such.
And I would die to have such love from thee,
So stop, a little more could be, too much.