Reading

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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):

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.