A Simple Reality

From the moment of our birth, we have the hope of never dying. We wish to live forever, to forget about our mortality. We never plan on death occurring. We never believe every moment could be our last. Because of this our spirit floats among the heavens.

Then as we age, we come down to earth. As the years pile up we begin to ground ourselves realizing there is an end. With this knowledge we try to live it up, to experience all we can on this world. We travel, we cherish, we experience what we all believe to be the best things in life.

Then when our bodies collapse under the pressures of old age, our universe shrinks even further. No longer do we envision the stars or moon, or even proffer to the sun’s magnificence, but rather find solace in the four plain walls surround us. And when we look up, we no longer see the stars, but rather just painted spackle. Nor do we dream as we did in our youth.

And when that moment comes and we drift off to whatever existence we deem as ‘our’ place, we should all remember one thing. We are all part of one, shared moment. We have lived forever. We have all witnessed the creation of the Universe. We have all come from the darkness and seen the light. We are made out of collapsing stars. We have crossed light years and remain immortal. Most of all, our journey is not ending, but rather we are still just witnessing the beginning. And our time does not tick away in seconds or minutes or years, but rather in that fact we shall be reborn again in a thousand lives as our atoms once again become a part of everything.

New Stories

So I've been thinking about a few books I plan to write and thought I'd take a stab at beginning one of them. So here is the opening scene from The Wicked (maybe):


“I’m glad you’re here, Sheriff,” Deputy Martin Dobson said as he reached the top of the dusty ravine with his lungs burning from the climb. 

Sheriff Richard “Granite” Johnson observed his overweight prodigy with barely a glance knowing the man fluctuated between gaining and losing the same forty pounds every year throughout the course of the last decade. Instead, he took in the scene with a stern expression. Of course from his position he couldn’t see much, but he didn’t have too. He could smell it, the stench of rotten flesh on stagnant air. Fighting back the bile in his throat, he tried to breathe out his nose to vacate the putrid air from his nostrils, but it lingered until he was almost forced to gasp for air.

“I know, sir,” Martin acknowledged. “It’s pretty bad.”

This time Granite looked at his deputy wondering how the man could stand there without covering his nose. “How can you stand it?”

Martin chuckled softly for a second. “I’ve lived with Carla’s cooking for fifteen years now, so this isn’t that bad.”

“Glad you can keep up your sense of humor right now.”

“Sorry, sir,” Martin apologized now realizing this was not the time for his normal quick-witted humor.

“That’s quite alright,” Granite corrected the man. “It’s best not to lose yourself in times like this. Just be aware that others may not be as understanding as I am at your seemingly blasé attitude.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So what’ve we got?” Granite asked as he tried to forget about his reoccurring gag reflex and focus on why he was here.

“I’d have to say it’s an older woman, probably in her sixties as best as I can tell,” Martin answered as a pure guess.

“How would you know that?”

“Her jewelry, sir. My mother wears the same style.”

“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions, but it’s a place to start,” Granite said with a nod. “Anything else?”

“No, sir. We’re still trying to locate the pieces.”

“Pieces?”

“I…” Martin started then closed his mouth for a second gathering his thoughts. “I didn’t want to blast it over the radio, sir, but it looks like the woman was cut into pieces before being dropped out here.”

“Couldn’t be coyotes?”

“I don’t think so, sir. Some of the cuts look too clean, at least from what little flesh remains.”

Granite observed the man closely wondering how the man, who’d never investigated a possible murder before, could come to such a conclusion. “How would you know that?”

“I watch a lot of television, sir. CSI. Bones. Can’t get enough of the shows.”

Granite frowned. “Let’s hope by the time this thing is over you’ll be broken of that habit.” Then he glanced over the edge of the ravine. “So what’s the easiest way down?”

A few minutes later the two men were at the bottom crossing over the police tape into the area. Of course Martin was huffing and puffing from the descent, but Granite didn’t say a thing feeling tightness in his own muscles which meant he couldn’t really chastise the man for his weight. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the same shape he’d been five years ago as a slight beer gut started to show on his usually tone physique and it upset his slightly because his paunch didn’t reflect his nickname. Then again, this town somehow bred laziness. It promoted the simple life mentality which even affected him. It’d slowed him down whereas his previous assignment as a New York City cop had kept him in better shape. Now, back in his home town of Walsenburg, Colorado, where he’d thought he could relax in what he considered an early retirement, he found this scene. And even with just a moment’s observation he knew this murder was going to interrupt his plans of being a lazy small town sheriff. 

Stepping around the area trying to find a place which was upwind of the body, he took it all in. He’d seen dead bodies before, plenty of them. He’d even come across a few semi-decomposed ones, but none of them made him want to hurl like he did now. Besides the stench, there seemed to be a ring of blood drawn around the remains which brought in a swarm of flies and gnats. Beyond that, the shadow of vultures circling above cast an odd swirling pattern over the ground. And then there was the body itself, a mangled mess of rotting flesh strewn about in an odd pattern as if creating a piece of obscene modern art. Taking in every detail with only a scan of the area, Granite could easily the whole place buzzed of death.

Worst of all, he knew this wasn’t going to be the first one, as a cold dread filled his thoughts.

Azazel - Back Cover Blurb

With Jeremiah near death and Limbus under attack, Azazel looks to be on the verge of changing the world, but Azazel has more enemies than friends. Despite his immortality, he still can be beaten and it’s up to Limbus to figure out how. While plans are made to counter Azazel, Limbus can’t forget about Opus Wright. As Limbus twists and turns his way through New York while trying to protect his girlfriend, Melissa, and get to know his mother, Isis, he also realizes he’s got more enemies than friends. Moreover, the fallen angel Azazel’s plan has consequences no one has anticipated.

In a hospital several states away, Jeremiah recovers, but finds himself trapped by the FBI. Knowing he has to escape and find Limbus before Opus does, he struggles to enlist Agent Tom Rice to his side. Agent Rice, however, feels as if he’s been pulled into a battle larger than he ever imagined and knows siding with Jeremiah will probably cost him his job. And possibly his life. Nevertheless, he tries to play both sides of the coin as Opus Wright, the demon Hades, and the fallen angel Azazel, try to corner Jeremiah and anyone who’s helping him.

But how do you defeat a creature who can’t die?

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Thoughts?

Killing the Monolog

So the other day I was having a discussion with a co-worker about books and movies and how predictable some things are. Now I must say I’m one of those people who tries to figure out the ending in advance, who analyzes the plot looking for errors, and tries to pick out things that are wholly stupid or absurd. I just don’t go to a movie to enjoy it for its pure entertainment value, but rather as a way to test my deductive reasoning a little. This is not to say I don’t find enjoyment in these movies, but that I actually put a purpose behind my viewing of them.

For instance, I realized Bruce Willis was a ghost in Sixth Sense early on in the movie. Doing so, however, did not detract me from thoroughly enjoying it. On the other hand, I didn’t get the twist of Usual Suspects until the end and for that fact alone I love the movie and can watch it again and again to see if there are clues I missed along the way. At the other extreme is Premium Rush with a plot line that’s been repeated in so many other movies I find it agonizing to watch. The only reason I stayed  was because I found the bike tricks fascinating.

Anyway, the discussion we were having circled around the need for books and movies to put in the one scene which explains everything at the end, or sometimes before the end. Either way, it’s a way of catching up the viewer/reader to a person like myself or to explain away something that’s too hard to convey other than just laying it out verbatim. Most of the time, however, this is done in a monolog by the villain at the end of the story when he has the good guy trapped in some way. Yet here’s the twist, the good guy somehow escapes.

It often reminds me of the old Batman television show in which Batman and Robin inevitably get captured in some elaborate trap only to have the Joker (or some other bad guy) monolog their end all plan before walking away without killing either Batman or Robin, though leaving them in an end-all-be-all killing machine (from which they escape only to fool the Joker’s hand.

My problem is if I was the bad guy and captured those chasing me, first thing I’d do is put a bullet between their eyes. Maybe even more than one. I mean even in the movie The Incredibles, the villain goes into a speak about how these monologs are the downfall of bad guys and then once he gets the upper hand he goes into a monolog himself. Absurd!

This brings me back to my point in a way. In my books I try to leave little clues which will point the reader in the direction of solving the mystery if they pay attention. However, if they don’t and read my books purely for entertainment  and miss everything I tried so cleverly to convey, then I spell it out enough that they should still get it at the end anyway. What I hope is different about the way I do this is at the end, for those readers not paying close attention to the details, they go “AHA!” as all the little clues I left finally create the big picture, a picture they should’ve seen coming. And I do this all without a monolog (I hope).

By the way, the worst example I’ve seen of late of this “bad guys capturing the good guys and letting them go only to get foiled by them in the end” is in the movie Expendables 2. Horrible, not the movie, but the absurdity of it all.

Dreaming

Right now I’m in the middle of an editing/writing dilemma. For the past couple months, I’ve been editing the heck out of a couple books I’ve written while also conceiving ideas for new books and knowing I’m still in the middle of writing my book Burden. Of course editing is the least enjoyable of the three for me, but it aligns with my goal to have 5 books out by end of year. Therefore I’m trying to concentrate on editing first and pushing everything else off to the side. Unfortunately, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed because the book I’m editing is Beginnings and with just 5 pages into it I’ve realized it needs a lot of work which is going to take more time then I expect.

So instead of writing a lengthy blog entry, I’m going to just post the beginning excerpt from one of my other books called Dream Savior. I hope you find it intriguing.

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Ever have a déjà-vu? Is it reality or just the mind playing tricks on you? 

Some experts say it’s just how the mind perceives a reality by substituting a bunch of similar past experiences into an account of a present occurrence. Others say it could be more, that a deja-vu is a look into the future. However, few experts are willing to risk their reputation on the improvable. For the select one or two who do believe there is more to a deja-vu than can be easily explained, they have only their beliefs at the moment. And they believe there has to be more.

Their reasoning behind their view, however, is due to the fact scientists know we use very little of the brains ability. On this premise, they suggest we are all capable of so much more than we think, but we rely on our senses too much, we believe we are incapable too often, and we believe what others tell us.

In an article written by Dr. Jessica Somersby, an expert in hypnosis, the study of the brain’s neural pathways, and interpreting dreams through a process she invented called cortex visualization, she suggests there is a temporal sense within all of us. For most of us, however, this ability is squashed, diverted, or unexplored because as the brain ages, as it matures from its infantile states, we suppress our own ability to sense temporal anomalies and thereby fail to react to them.

This is why, as children, we experience déjà-vu’s in greater numbers, and by the time we reach adulthood they seldom occur. This is because we’ve supplanted this ‘sixth sense’ by forcing ourselves to live in the here and now. According to her, we force ourselves in the present because that is what we’ve been taught to do.

Of course her work has come under fire within the scientific community with cries for proof, but her proof eludes her, though she will not stop searching for it. In fact right now, through dozen of tests on subjects both young and old, she has begun her search for this proof using her cortex visualization method which she, along with several other scientists, are researching.

Nay-sayers think it’s a waste of time and effort, but demonstrating her commitment to her belief, these attacks on her credibility have only cemented her search for this elusive ghost all the more.

And what happens if and when she finds that proof? 

True to herself, her answer creates havoc among the religious community by suggesting if we are pre-destined to experience something (as a déjà-vu suggests), then we should first recognize there was a plan for us to fulfill and we should accept the plan coming to fruition. Furthermore, if it is even possible, we should try to change the outcome. Her reasoning for this is simple, why show us a future if we are not able to alter it.

If you’d like to know more, Dr. Jessica Somersby is conducting a symposium on her work this week in Atlanta.

Fighting

For those who have read Jeremiah Stone, you are aware of the fight scenes within the story. However, I doubt they understand just how difficult it is to write a good battle, after all it doesn’t seem that difficult. Right? Well, maybe.

One-on-one fights I find pretty easy to write because it they are easy to picture within my mind and therefore easy to put onto paper, though it does take a knack to make it believable. As the number within the battle grows, however, it becomes more difficult. For instance, I take the initial fight between Eris and Jeremiah verses the fight between Jeremiah and the demons in the subway tunnel.

For myself, when Jeremiah fought Eris the only difficultly I had was remembering that Eris’ goal was not to kill Jeremiah, but rather to kill Zygi. It was something Jeremiah forgot during her initial attack and remembered just in time. The only other problem was dealing with how Zygi would deal with Jeremiah and Eris since he was the only one who had a gun. Its little details like this which get the writer in trouble during fight scenes. I mean the writer had to keep track of each person’s primary motivation: Eris wants to kill Zygi. Jeremiah wants to take Zygi captive. Zygi wants to see what Jeremiah is capable of, though not succumb to either Jeremiah or Eris. In this way the scene was difficult, though only three people were involved.

In the subway tunnel, Jeremiah took on six demons (if I remember correctly), though three of them he removed rather quickly. And from Jeremiah’s point of view, removing them quickly was a necessity. My problem was trying to visualize all of the demon’s movements with Jeremiah in the middle of it. Thankfully, a tunnel limits movement when dealing with numbers, which was to Jeremiah’s advantage. However, he also fought against three demons in the restaurant and was losing ground quickly. And in that instance, he would’ve lost altogether because it was a bigger, more open space. Had it not been for the sirens, he knew he would’ve died unless he could’ve retreated into the kitchen where space was more confined.

I guess the truth of it comes down to tactics, something I don’t see in every movie or read in every book. It is, however, something I’m aware of and try desperately to write toward in order to make the scene as realistic as possible. I hope you enjoy my efforts.

On another note, I’ve got the go ahead to write the story based on my friends idea as long as I give him initial credit for the concept. I’ve also come up with another idea for a book based on gypsy culture and astrology invoking powers within select people. Though I’m not sure when I’ll get to either, I think both might be fun to write.