THE WARRIORS BAUMANN & The Writing Life, part 2

What a happy holiday season it is whenever I have a new book out into the world!

This year that new book is THE WARRIORS BAUMANN (<click to get your copy), a ribald tale of two brothers on a mission in future-medieval Missouri. What is future-medieval? It is a genre in which the story is set in a medieval-level society but located in the future from our present day. How does that work? I'm glad you asked, because I've literally written six books to explain how a modern society can devolve into a less civilized society. I refer to the FLU SEASON Saga, a series of stand-alone novels with a shared timeline and crossover characters. Start anywhere; you get whatever info you need to understand that particular story. Hint: It begins with a 10-year pandemic, then gets worse (with some ups and downs while attempting to restore civilization), until there isn't much left but desperate people killing over food. Then, eventually, people start to rebuild, and after some time we are up to a medieval-level society.

States have turned into kingdoms and the capital cities have walls around them for protection. Kings rule. Warriors keep the roads clear. Traveling troupes of actors and minstrels ply their trade. One seeks to rise in status and join the Court crowd with all their frivolous finery and dour decadence. It is an ordered society. THE WARRIORS BAUMANN unfolds in such a setting as the clever older, shorter brother named Rory persuades his brawny younger brother Stank (Stanley K. Baumann) to join him on his plan to wed Princess Majory and thus become a duke. They are not prepared, however, for the trials of the Royal Road to the capital nor the plethora of schemes and gambits of the Court crowd. Success is fairly uncertain until the final scene.

Before even the FLU SEASON Saga, a small library of various stories was written, as shown in the graphic below. Once in college, the stories compiled, many based on the science fiction I had been reading in my youth. My first long work was a rip-off of Orwell's 1984; the difference in my take being that the protagonist turns out to be a plant who works from the inside to undo the tyrannical state. Titled In Pursuit of Freedom, I eventually wrote it as a screenplay and had it optioned by a Hollywood studio for a year before they dropped the project and all rights returned to me. It remains unfinished as a novel - only as the novella I typed up during high school days.

My next longform work was YEAR OF THE TIGER, which began as a sci-fi short story I wrote in college. I took the professor's advice to reset the story on Earth rather than an alien planet. So I chose a tiger as the counterpoint to a man driven insane by dreams of himself as a tiger. That story, too, became a screenplay - the easiest way to get the full story on paper back in typewriter days. I swore to turn it into a novel and I tried several times but the complicated story stood firm. Finally, after years of revision, I thought I'd gotten it just right, and published it only in 2020, when the world was in pandemic fever and nobody was buying books. A fellow author from India read it and pronounced it a fine book (her review here).

Back to the early days. I finally sat down and wrote the great masterpiece I'd envisioned based on some wildly ridiculous tales of adventure from my youth reset on an alien world. I called it THE DREAM LAND and included a version of myself and girlfriend of the time as protagonists exploring another world through an interdimensional doorway. While almost comic-bookish at first, the story through revisions got more serious, more scientific, and darker as these two Earth people learn to function in the new society and gradually rise in status - though not without considerable problems. All right, done. I'd set it down for the record.

But what happens next? I had lingering questions so I started in immediately on Book 2 of what would become a trilogy. The first book set up all the tropes of interdimensional fiction so the second book used them straightaway, focusing on the how and why - then using a time travel/change history theme (things don't go well in the end). Then I wrote Book 3 to solve the problems encountered in Book 2 (undoing the history that was changed because it made everything worse + an approaching comet). The end of a good trilogy.

In the middle of Book 2 (Dreams of Future's Past), however, I got stopped by a plot conundrum. For the next ten years I didn't write fiction. I wrote scholarly articles, grad school papers, a non-fiction thesis, and finally a Ph.D. dissertation. While teaching English after all my education, I read a student's sci-fi story which reminded me of my unfinished book. I returned to it, suddenly knowing how to get through the plot conundrum. It wasn't from anything in the student's story; rather the act of taking some fiction into my brain unlocked it and fresh ideas flowed. So I finished that book and went straight into Book 3 (Diaspora). 

Also while working on Book 1 of THE DREAM LAND Trilogy, I went to Japan to teach English. I used my experiences living there for five years and from earlier experiences living in Hawaii (thanks, Army!) to write a romance novel, AIKO. Then my subsequent Master of Fine Arts thesis was a novel titled A BEAUTIFUL CHILL, another kind of romance (what I dubbed an 'anti-romance') set on the same college campus (Ah ha! Take that, professors and colleagues!). Still another book came while I lived in South Texas and attended the university there for a Masters of Arts in English (thinking to return to Japan and teach again). Several courses in rhetoric inspired me to write a version of The Iliad and The Odyssey - putting a modern young man touring the ruins of Troy (Ilium) with an older woman named Helen. Awkward. That book, AFTER ILIUM, although not the first written, became my first book to be published as a longish novella. Next came The Dream Land trilogy, followed by A Beautiful Chill, and Aiko. I thought I was done.

How did this wave of publishing get started? I'm glad you asked because there is an answer. You see, being busy with grad school and then teaching (back in the US), I had little time to write new books. Meanwhile, the publishing world had moved on; the process changed. Instead of mailing a box of paper to an agent or publisher with a self-address stamped envelope for a reply (they didn't return to box of paper unless you included return postage), we now used this thing they were calling e-mail: you sent a message (cover letter) via this system and attached a sample manuscript file (1 to 3 chapters). Instead of waiting 6 months to a year for a reply, you could expect a reply in 3 to 8 weeks. I sent manuscripts around using both methods. Got some nibbles, no hooks. Did have a couple agents briefly. In the end it was neither method which got me published. It was the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award competition that first got my books noticed. I entered it three years in a row but did not win. However, through the ranking process I was noticed.

I am, if nothing else, a special case. While in a hospital one day, I acknowledged to myself that if I could do anything before saying goodbye, it would be to see one of my novels published - and praised, reviewed, with movie deals, etc. in some of the dreams. So I entered the ABNA competition on that whim, got some attention, and hooked up with some small press folks. I thought at the time "this is good, this is enough" and didn't pursue more lucrative avenues. I should have tossed my hat into a wider ring. But I also thought I had no more ideas and so there was little point in trying to go big or go home. I was already home, and that was fine. Thus, I've been in the same Myrddin Publishing Group sphere of influence ever since. 

As the next book is written and the next, and the next, I keep looking back and wondering what life might have been like if I had struck out for something more traditional. Going for a Big Five publisher. As it was, I believed I wouldn't write another book so the end of my writing career, such as it was, was fine. I had done enough to satisfy my desire to see my books in print (and on Kindle). I kept on teaching.

Then I got a new idea for a book: a vampire novel.  [TO BE CONTINUED]


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(C) Copyright 2010-2025 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

Fictional Fathers for Father's Day - Update #2

I've just finished a dystopian trilogy, FLU SEASON, about a quirky family dealing with a pandemic and the violent fallout from that devastating reality.

Book 1 and 2 are out and Book 3 is finished and coming out this fall. The narrator of Book 1 and 2 is a teen son, describing in Book 1 his sassy never-married mom ("The Book of Mom") and in Book 2 his own family ("The Way of the Son"). So far the story is about this teen boy becoming a man and with that title a husband and father (no spoilers; it was inevitable).

I've done a lot of thinking about that arc as I wrote this family drama. The ideas a boy has about becoming a man and all that comes with that role. The criteria to be met. The duties and responsibilities. The joys and regrets. The fact that the roles keeps changing: son, father, grandfather. Because I've borrowed liberally from my own thoughts and feelings, these novels are deeply personal to me - even though they are, of course, totally fiction. (We know our pandemic ended officially in 2022. But what if it didn't? How would everything be, say, six years on? Eight years? Eleven years? What would remain? How would people carry on?)

Book 3 ("Dawn of the Daughters") is narrated by the daughter of this boy/man/husband/father and tells the continuing story of the family through her entire life, including views of how society has changed post-pandemic. I have ideas for a Book 4 which would be narrated by her grown son, now a father, and describe how he deals with the dystopia of the post-pandemic rebuilt world as well as the effects of having her as his mother. It truly is a vicious circle.

Here is my blog posting for 2020's Father's Day:

Last month, for Mother's Day, I waxed poetic on the three kinds of mothers I happened to have in my novels. Well, turnabout seems fair play, so let me ponder the types of fathers I find in my novels and consider their source.

So I'm sitting comfortably at home this summer, counting the sales of my latest novel, and it hits me! I should be promoting my Father's Day novel, the one titled AIKO. It's a kind of Father's Day story, after all. And because Father's Day is here again, everyone is doing a grad and dad marketing blitz. My just launched novel EXCHANGE has a dad at its center. Unfortunately he has lost his wife and his daughter in a mass shooting, but there are many "dad" tropes as he struggles to put his life back together and find meaning in what remains.

Everyone knows that grads are tired of reading. Dads tend to be reading averse, too. So maybe books do not make the best gifts. Job search books for grads, perhaps. A book on whatever is dad's current hobby, maybe. But fiction too often falls to the dark, dusty shelf of well-intended gifts. Beside the neckties. My own father would rather read through a stack of history and politics books before he would ever crack the cover of a novel. He is ok with wearing a necktie, however.

So how many books are there that feature Father's Day, anyway? Or about fathers in general? Mothers are easy. Brothers and sisters are common. The sweet aunt and the generous uncle are often seen in literature. Fathers are generally the bad guys, villainous, cruel, authoritarian, mean, and uncaring. They are more often than not portrayed as abusers. Sometimes they only appear as the bad memory of a protagonist and we get a couple of graphic incidents to showcase dad's unpleasantness. (I had to do that in A BEAUTIFUL CHILL and A GIRL CALLED WOLF because they were based on real people and their lives; however, fathers in my other novels are thankfully less abusive.) It's almost a stereotype. Fathers get a bad rap, I think. We tend to only hear about the bad ones. Think of Darth Vader, a.k.a. "Dark Father", and others of his ilk.

I think about the fathers in my other novels. My protagonists seem to relate to their fathers very much like I relate to my own father. Funny, that coincidence, right? Write what you know, they say. Or am I drawing on the only role model I have? (Curiously, I'm an only child and my protagonists tend not to have siblings, also - or siblings that are throw-away characters, mentioned but not active in the story. In AFTER ILIUM, the young hero dislikes his dentist father's strictness and is glad to be on his own touring Greece and Turkey after college. In EPIC FANTASY *WITH DRAGONS, our dragonslayer hero's father was a military commander killed in battle, so our hero carries only the memory of a violent, frightening man. In A DRY PATCH OF SKIN, the first volume of my vampire trilogy, our poor hero is transforming into a vampire. He is angry at his father for not warning him and for sending him away to live with an aunt. Otherwise, that fictional dad sounds an awful lot like my own father: haughty, disinterested, aloof. In volume 2, SUNRISE, the father comes across disturbingly like my own father at the time I was writing the book: well-meaning but still authoritarian to an uncomfortable degree.

In AIKO, our hero discovers he is a father, then struggles to find his child. There is a brief mention of his own father being stationed in Japan after WWII - like my own father was. After the war, my father went to college on the G.I. Bill and became a social studies teacher, then later a librarian. Now he is deep into retirement, having put his books away for poor eyesight and sleepier days, not to mention the devastation of a hurricane.

When I think of my father, the image that comes most readily to my mind is of him sitting in his reading chair, reading: reading in such a focused, determined manner that I could get away with literally anything because nothing could disturb him. Thus, he was separated from my everyday activities, always there but on the sidelines, uninvolved in my youthful experiences. And that is what I learned of fatherhood: 1) provide the family income, 2) relax at home after the job, 3) fix things around the house and yard. Also, 4) be master of the castle, 5) enforce the rules, and when necessary (6) represent the family like a knight in shining armor when some authority or institution challenges us. He is the (7) champion, the protector, the lord of the manor. And that is, for better or worse, how I portray the fathers in my novels: powerful yet distant. 

If you've been following this blog you probably know I'm a dad. It's a weird feeling knowing there is someone living in the world partly as a result of my actions. Sure, we can imagine clones, or cyborgs, but another human? That's crazy. Like us and yet not like us. And eventually they go their own ways and have their own lives and we scratch our heads and think What just happened? Now my offspring is finishing college, studying to be something in the medical field. This is after going through Army training to be a combat medic.
UPDATE: Finished university, started her career in medicine, got married, living large.

As I think back on the past 23 years, I can pinpoint a few things I did that might have helped raise this baby to adulthood. But there are just as many other things I did about which I have no clue. Maybe they helped, maybe not. Only my grown child can tell. I'm pleased, even proud, of how this googly little bundle of joy overnight became this awesome adult who vaguely resembles me in appearance and words and behavior. 

So for now, I must pass the reins to my protégé. No longer do I need to concern myself so much with me doing great things and achieving this and that and telling my child about, you know, the things I can boast about. Now it is time for me to boast about my grown child, to note what this new adult is doing, and praise the new things, the new deeds, of this adult - to praise and be proud of what my child has done more than being happy at what I have done. I've actually inserted this idea into the thoughts of my protagonist dad in EXCHANGE. Oh, I will still write books, of course - until the keyboard is ripped from my cold, dead fingers. But now it's no longer all about me. It's about the generation we produce and what they will do as we fade gently into that good night.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2023 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

That NaNo Thing (2020 edition)

So, ladies and gentlemen, each November there is a competition for writers who strive to compose a story of 50,000 words (or possibly a little more). The National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo for insiders) is the Super Bowl for those who have no athletic skills [sic] but have an idea often expressed as "You know what would make a great movie?" 

NaNo was brought to my attention by my writer friends in 2014. Usually it is not a problem to write 50,000 words, even in a month, if I have a lot of free time and a hot idea. So I gave it a go, writing most of a sci-fi novel by the concluding tally of 55,396...which was not the end of the story. I put it aside and finally this year (yes, in 2020) I picked it up and finished it at 95,000 words. It will be available early in 2021.

Usually, I start something in February and write through the spring and summer and finish at the beginning of autumn, then edit and revise through the month of November, precluding my participation. But sometimes it works out. In 2016 I worked on a sequel to my epic fantasy tome and "won" with 52,077 words...but it remains unfinished. In 2018, I worked on a cynical autobiography, based a lot on Grandma's notes of her ancestors and my vague memories of childhood. Again I got to 54,275 words by the end of the month. Lots more to finish that book.

Last year (2019) I was engaged in preparation of my crime thriller novel EXCHANGE (out in May 2020) and skipped the NaNo. But this year...I had no alibi. So I looked at what projects I had started and needed to finish. I picked up my screenplay for a "1984" rip-off and decided to novelize it. We are allowed notes and an outline for NaNo so novelizing a screenplay is not cheating. With 2 days to go, it sits at 49,996 words. I think I can cobble together another 4 words in time.

THE LIE began long, long ago in a high school far, far away. Fresh from a class reading of George Orwell's "1984", I said to myself: "I think I can do better." So I wrote a story about a police state but mine was set in the United States instead of London. I had my own twists on the story so it wasn't entirely a copy. I typed it out on a manual typewriter until the ink ribbon was spent and the typed words faint. Single-spaced, it went to 66 pages - the longest piece of writing I had ever done to that date. I stapled the pages in the top left corner and shared it with a couple guys in my sci-fi nerd circle. They liked it. Others asked to read it so it was passed around for the rest of the semester.

However, I got busy with other things. You know, the usual: college, jobs, relationships, other writing projects, travel, career, family, more writing projects.... 

Back up. In a return to college to take a screenwriting course, I used the story as the plot for my screenplay (see above). The professor of the course had Hollywood ties and he helped some of us get attention. My screenplay was "optioned" by a production company, which meant they paid me for the rights to it for 1 year; if they did not move forward on it within that year the rights reverted to me. Guess who got reverted?

So it went back to the shelf. I ran the high school pages through an OCR system to try to make it able to be edited on a word processor but the optical character recognition system did not recognize very much of my typing. Now (NaNoWriMo 2020) I cannot even find that poor OCR'd file, but I do have the screenplay. So I read the scene in the screenplay format, then write it out as a novel scene. Lots of description needed to be filled in along with the thoughts and feelings of the characters - which the actors and director would take care of in a film production.

Like past projects for NaNoWriMo, I will not finish it by the time I complete the month. But I will get my 50,000 words to win the competition. The project interests me, has a unique take on the basic dystopian themes, and so I will likely finish it eventually - unless a new idea hits me from out of left field.

So that is how I have been spending my November, if anyone wondered where I was. I was assuming you were deep inside one of my latest novels, EXCHANGE or the just launched YEAR OF THE TIGER (read more here), and simply did not realize I had not posted on my blog until now. Next month I will return to that first NaNoWriMo novel, the sci-fi story, and prepare it for launch in 2021.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2020 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

The Wonderful World of Projection

In the world of science fiction writers there is the trope of the present reality being projected into the future. Take what is happening now and extrapolate how it might develop logically ten or twenty or a hundred years in the future. H.G. Wells did this with The Time Machine, speculating how humanity would divide into Eloi (dumb surface dwelling cattle) and Morlocks (hideous underground consumers of Eloi). Writers of both utopias and dystopias have done the same thing, as far back as Plato and The Republic. Why?

Perhaps it is a desire to assure ourselves, in the case of the utopia, that good times are coming, or, in the case of the dystopia, that our lives could be far worse than they are now. In fiction, when writers try to predict the future (in my experience as a reader), there are two ways: 1) leap far ahead in time so that nothing of today remains and there is no need to consider a timeline of progression of social, political, technological development. Or, 2) start with the way things are today and project them into the future in a logical way. The former works well if the story is set, say, ten thousand years in the future; the latter works best for a 20 or 100 year setting advancement. The point in this latter method, I believe, is expressly to show how today will become tomorrow.

So I've tried that method with my so-called medically accurate vampire trilogy. My point then was to expressly illustrate the medical aspects of vampirism. Book 1 starts in 2013-14, the same time period in which I was writing it. In previous blog posts I explained how I took the issues of today and projected them 13 years into the future for Book 2. In Book 3, we go to 2099 - not a huge leap in time but a significant chunk to deal with in terms of showing the changes that are possible. So a Book 1 which was grounded in science had to stretch a bit for Book 2, and now Book 3 is allowed to speculate much further and by necessity introduce some good ol' sci-fi (i.e., "speculation based on science"). 

And then there are the usual vampire tropes, or features, readers expect to see in vampire novels. There is a lot of blood, of course, lots of throat biting, lusting for blood, blood starvation, hibernation, etc. There is the trope of vampires being associated with bats - when the "vampire bat" was named after the fictional character and lives far away from Transylvania. There is the attempted explanation of the origin of vampires, of the legends which circumscribe the phenomena. There have been glittering vampires and those who have become hideously disfigured. There have been alternate histories written based on vampires rising to power in real places. In the genre it seems there is a vampire style for every reader. And we can enjoy them all.

I chose from the start to take the "disease" seriously, a genetic disorder which runs in families - which fits many of the ancient reports of vampire-like people (research!). There is also a curious correlation with the ethnic group residing in the isolated tracks of Transylvania, an area settled by large numbers of Hungarians, and that is the propensity to have Type AB blood - so rare that only 5% of people in the world have it. (Read Book 1 of the Stefan Szekely Trilogy for an explanation of how their blood type can change back and forth - and with the change comes physical abnormalities.) 

Then there is the projection: what is now becomes what will be. For example, take politics. Nationalism seems on the rise in the United States and in Europe, a backlash against recent government policies and the results of those policies. Regardless of how you may feel personally about such matters, for the sake of the story - the sake of a good, realistic, plausible story - let us say that trend continues. We then would find nations breaking out of the European Union and going their own way. Geographic and political pressures may force the breakaway nations to ban together. Project a little further and that group becomes an empire. 

Take another example: technology. We love our social media so much today but already we are seeing problems with data collection and misuse, with identity theft, with other internet-related commerce such as cryptocurrency. It would not take much for that grid to come crashing down. An electromagnetic pulse in the atmosphere would wipe out all electronic systems for miles around, crippling banking and utilities. Back to the pre-electronic age we go. In another way, social pressures could result in rebellion against such systems, or a government might ban the internet (already being limited to citizens in several countries today). It is easy to imagine - to project from today - a society where the modern, the electronic, the technological has been rejected. People would go about by horse and carriage again instead of electric cars. But I digress . . . 

"In the multiverse all possibilities can be projected simultaneously."

It makes for interesting thought experiments. The what-if scenarios are played out. The thinking goes that by projecting a situation into the future, we can see where problems today exist and repair them so the "awful" future that could happen will not happen. Projection of happier times and a more pleasant world, even a paradise of free love and ice cream for everyone, is also a scenario which may have dire consequences. For example, everyone is so comfortable that nobody works, nothing gets done, society falls apart, blame ensues, people form blocs and fight against each other, thus transforming a utopia into a dystopia within a generation. Or is that just me observing our world today? 

As one great writer reportedly said, "Every work of literature [regardless of its setting's time and place] is a reflection of the author's [present] situation."


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

Three stories we are sick of...

As we touch the mid-point of the spring season, I am reminded of three things: 

1) Put away everything of value so the next tornado cannot blow it all far and wide.

2) It's too late to plant that garden so no reason to get out the tools, seeds, and fertilizer.

3) The book writing business is not suitable for man nor beast, so why bother? 

Right away I will likely get rebuttals. Some may ask why I stay in this gods-forsaken alley of wind and I bluntly repeat "The Day Job! The Day Job!" Others may decry my sniveling rant as an affront to the precious Gaea and her bouncing bosom, an excuse the lazy pull out whenever it suits then, green thumbs or not. And there are those who would chastise me for supposed Puritan vanity, as though only my books suffered the outrageous slingshots and arrows of cliches. Enough said then!

Throughout this new year, I have been able to ascertain there are three stories, types of stories, or story memes retold that nobody is willing to welcome any longer, and henceforth should be exiled to the dustpins of hosiery! Here they are in all of their unspoken glory--and beware the variations, too.

The love story. Emotional linkage. Moreover, two young romantics slathering over each other. Worse yet if one of them is of some special, protected category such as ghost, gremlin, zombie, homeboy, vampire, wolfboy, fairy, fairytale meme, or English teacher. It is enough that we recognize that people have this flaw, this need for completion, this urge to copulate with another person or "person"; must the rest of us read all about it? see it splayed open across the grand screen? discuss it through the night on social media, as though it were a traditional recipe for disaster? Sure, we have the so-called "anti-romance"--but isn't that just another sheep of another color than black? Let them do what they do in private and leave the rest of us alone, thank you very much. 

Variation: The love story set in a dystopian society where good is evil and black is white and everyone is out to get everyone else because that is the way of the world and nobody is better or worse than anyone else and the equal ones are slightly more equal than the others who are not. Often they must play a game to determine who is most equal.

Example. A Beautiful Chill, an oft-repeated cliche of campus unions and reunions where Art and Letters rejoice in depravity unyielding up to the final revelation of slaughter. Woe is me, sayeth the love-lorn Author. (Credit for keeping it real; that is, on Earth and in modern times.)

The discovery of a new world. In this avenue I would add all the usual doorway, portal, gateway, wardrobe, tunnel, and wormhole stories where one of "us" goes somewhere else and woo-hoo it's almost like where we came from or it's quite different and aren't we amazed! And what does our hero/heroine do there? Exploit the darn place to within an inch of its lifeline! Such stories have been foisted upon us as warnings of what we have become or what we shall or might become if we do not pay attention, pay through the nose, or pay the first-born child of every family in debt to our fanatical financials and lords of leisure! And yet we take no heed and continue to fall into our dubious inheritance. No more! "If it ain't here, it ain't real," quoth one long-lost quotation master. Who should care for a world of pure invention?

Variation: The parallel universe, the time travel story, the dystopian tale--all of them poor representations of the main theme, all relying on our knowledge of our existing set of circumstances in order to make pun of all that we hold close to us and dreary. They mean to trick you. Smoke and mirrors, just smoke and mirrors. Mind not the poor excuse that is what you have now, for life could be far, far worse over there.

Example: The Dream Land, a lengthy tome [read 'trilogy'] ostensibly of interdimensional [read 'doorway, portal, etc.'] intrigue [read 'political skulduggery'], alien romance [see above complaint], and world domination [yet not, thankfully, in a sexual bondage sort of depravity]. Too many giant war rabbits to my liking.

The medieval family clash. As a variation on new worlds is the old world meme. I speak here of our vainglorious return to the days of yore as they stick in our craw and decay forthwith. Either said stories are poor recreations of history mismanaged or they are faux pas histories which serve only the purpose of greasepaint stages of perversity. Need we more of that? There is good reason those days of yore are done, and none too soon: we who represent the greater good in our species are simply too embarrassed by what we are capable of bestowing upon our peers. While we may wish to relive the highlights and even selected lowlifes, the sum total of all our aspirations is a rousing return to that which never was and cannot be all in the name of trying it again for the better and falling, indeed, crashing from great dragon-borne heights to the fire-pit below! Then we know the mirror has finally broken and we lie splintered and bleeding.

Variation: The story that hides in a return to mythological creations and through them and their unfolding narrativity seek to impress us with the drudgery of life in those ancient days. Be glad of the life you have now and forget those of long ago. Yet such creatures and the winsome gods and goddesses themselves make for poor judges of our tastes today. Be not fooled or made a fool!

Example: After Ilium, where the narrative necessarily parallels the standard liturgy yet is viewed through the rose-colored lenses of a neophyte (often called 'the lucky loser') for the purpose of excising emotional dewing from unwary readers. Quite dubious in the depiction of an infamous battle. The major sex scene is a fruit basket of delights, however.


Solution. Seek not for such misguided diversions but instead search out only the fair and acceptable solutions to the diversions you crave, for they do exist. Break free and live a life beneath a tree, in the fields of the locust, all barefoot and squishy, with fluffy-bunny clouds overhead and the wind in your hair, like all good little munchkins who have survived remakes of wizard-themed films. And if that fails you, then there likely is little hope; you might as well embrace your day job (night, whatever) with hardy gusto, for you are not worthy of being entertained by the likes of we. Good day to you, Sir!


[The preceding was discovered by a couple of lovers whilst they sojourned on a newly discovered world after reading about ancient wars and played a game of trumps. Authorship has yet escaped confirmation. It is presented here solely for amusement, for it has no other discernable use.]



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