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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(C) Copyright 2010-2014 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.

Introducing THE DREAM LAND Book II "Dreams of Future's Past"

Those of you who have been eagerly anticipating Book II of THE DREAM LAND Trilogy need anticipate no longer. It is here...er, well, over there at that Amazon place as a Kindle ebook. First things first, right? Let me catch my breath and I'll get started on the print edition as well as return to finishing Book III.

Some music fans will note the title of this novel "Dreams of Future's Past" and associate it with a music album by the Moody Blues. You would be correct. You may also complain that my title is not the same as theirs. You would correct again. While I liked the idea behind the title of their album enough to borrow it (and my book's original title was "Days..." rather than "Dreams..."), the exact phrasing they used did not quite fit the time travel idea of Book II. So I took some authorial license, with apologies to the Moody Blues, and changed it. You might also be delighted by how many Moody Blues references you can find in THE DREAM LAND Trilogy.

Here is a brief description:

When you conquer a new world, do you change its history or change yourself?

After his adventures in Book I, Sebastian Talbot (a.k.a. Set-d’Elous, legendary warrior) has exiled himself to a desolate island, content to laze away the days writing his memoir. Until the emissary from Queen Tammy arrives with a mission he cannot refuse. Tammy, the IRS clerk he took to Ghoupallesz in Book I, wants him to fetch the son she left on Earth. How could she return for him? She married the King of Aivana.

That mission raises desperate questions for Sebastian: If he can go back and forth through these interdimensional doorways and arrive in different time periods, perhaps he can do something to prevent the big war he fought through, the war that destroyed his family and millions of others. He returns to his Ghoupalle wife Zaura in the years he was previously away. While on patrol duty, he comes upon a young poetess he knows will become the rebel leader who helps overthrow the monarchy and causes the wars. What would you do?

Meanwhile, back on Earth in another timeline, Sebastian awakens from a coma and is helped in his recovery by Dr. Toni Franck. An affair develops—just as his opportunity for escape comes along. Later, as Sebastian/Set escorts teams of mercenaries back and forth to conduct their history-changing business, he tries to meet up with Toni again only to realize the police are still in pursuing him. Desperate to see her, he arranges a meeting only to have a SWAT team show up, cornering him. Can he escape through an interdimensional doorway this time?

THE DREAM LAND Trilogy continues in Book II with parallel time lines, world domination and alien romance, and as always the minutia of heroic minds playing god without a rule book. Cheer or jeer--it's up to you!

*     *     *

Take your first trip to the other side with THE DREAM LAND Book I "Long Distance Voyager"!

Then follow the further misadventures of absent-minded romantic hero Sebastian Talbot in THE DREAM LAND Book II "Dreams of Future's Past"!

And Book III "Diaspora" is well underway and should be coming out in December 2013 or early in 2014.

*     *     *

If you are new to THE DREAM LAND environment, let me offer you a description of Book I which should give you a sense of the overall story:

How far would you go to save the love of your life? Through a portal to another world?

Sebastian, that quiet tax examiner at the corner desk in the IRS service center, carries a dark secret: once upon a time he and his high school sweetheart Gina found a rip in the universe and stepped through it to a strange world of magical beauty.  
 
Far from being a Disney-esque playground, the world of Ghoupallesz bursts with cosmopolitan elegance, alien perversions, and political strife. Gina, the adventurous one, falls in love with the adventurous possibilities. Not Sebastian; always practical, he insists they return to Earth. Gina refuses so he goes back alone, vowing never to return. Yet he finds himself drawn back repeatedly--he calls it “research”--and often crosses paths with Gina. Sometimes he saves her, sometimes she saves him, forever soul mates. 
 
Now years later, life on Earth hasn’t gone well for Sebastian. Then the headaches revisit him, with flashes of memories from Ghoupallesz. Gina is in trouble again, he senses, and he must, as always, save her. Meanwhile, a pair of too-curious IRS co-workers have accidently overdosed on the Elixir of Love he brought back on his last trip and the antidote exists only on Ghoupallesz. With these co-workers in tow, Sebastian returns through the interdimensional portal, fearing it may be his final adventure. He must gather his old comrades from the war, cross the towering Zet mountains, and free Gina from the Zetin warlord’s castle before her execution. Perhaps then she will stay with him.  
 
But are his adventures to the other side real? Or are they just the dreams of a psychotic killer? That’s what the police want to know when Sebastian returns without his co-workers.  
 
THE DREAM LAND is a genre-mashing epic of interdimensional intrigue and police procedural, a psychological thriller marbled with twisted humor, steampunk pathos, and time/space conundrums.

Here is a review of THE DREAM LAND on the Connie J. Jaspersen's Best in Fantasy Blog and Carlie Cullen's blog.

THE DREAM LAND Trilogy 

is published by

in association with

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(C) Copyright 2010-2013 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.

Got Goddesses?

First, let me sincerely apologize to those dear readers and followers who were made uncomfortable by my previous blog post. I did not realize the portion of people prone to Leporiphobia was so high. Sorry to shock you with so many bunny pictures. I just really, really wanted to celebrate the arrival of spring in what I thought (and polls had backed me up on this) was the best way possible. For me, and many others (again, the polls support this), the bunny is the epitome of spring icons. Perhaps I did go a little overboard, but if you can't go overboard with "itty bitty bunny wabbits" then what can you go overboard with? I ask you!

Sooooo, as a kind of self-flagellation, I have found I needed to regain some religion. Not necessarily the usual brands, of course. (I cannot do anything ordinary; even my posting of itty bitty bunny wabbit pictures is rather an ordinary act, granted.) No, I refer to the seven gods and nine goddesses followed, if not actually worshiped, by the various peoples of the planet Ghoupallesz, which is the location (along with Earth) of the tales recounted in THE DREAM LAND trilogy. That's right: fictional religion. At least to you and me, not to them.

Sooooo, returning to my Work-In-Production, we find our heroine, the unstoppable Gina Parton, a.k.a. Jinetta-d'Elous, faced with a whole host of obstacles--as every heroine usually is when stuck in a work of fiction by an unscrupulous author.

In the present scene, Gina has just escaped from an airship crash and the attack of a mob of religious fanatics bent on destroying technology and killing the scientists who make technology, including the hated interstellar spacecraft intended to evacuation some of the population in advance of a catastrophic comet. (Was that a spoiler?) Fleeing to an inn with the wounded co-pilot (naughty gal!), she connects to the Overlord (a.k.a. the governor of the city-state that is the Kobarel metropolis) via comm link. Because of the airship crash and the destruction of the fuel cell she was bringing to the Overlord, Gina fears she will not be able to free her young adult daughter from the re-education facility; the Overlord was supposed to grant that in exchange for the fuel cell, but you know how things go in science-fiction stories....

Anyhoo, Gina was previously captured and examined by the Overlord's staff, based on an unflattering report by Gina's nemesis/colleague Hanar-Santorak. They found interesting data from the lab report. The co-pilot from Gina's airship also suspects she's not quite the ordinary Ghoupalle woman she has been maintaining she is. Certainly, she could not be someone from a place called Earth! Long story short, they suspect Gina may be one of the goddesses come down to challenge them in their darkest days. And they may be correct!

EXCERPT from THE DREAM LAND Book III "Diaspora" Act IV

. . . “Are you a goddess?” the Overlord asked [via the comm link] in a suddenly different voice, a stream of phonemes coated in sugar, running fluidly from his tongue as though he had rehearsed the question for a week. “And if so, which goddess are you?”

* * *

The clanking she heard she knew to be the wheels that turned to raise or lower the metal gates of the castle in heaven where mortals were invited to stay for all eternity if they sufficiently displeased the gods and goddesses. Torture was routine, agony the order of the day, hopelessness the new blood flowing out of their veins. Not many had managed to return from such fate. Certainly not Interdimensional Voyagers, no matter what their class might be. Gina was a First-Class Voyager, but it had been so many years now since she had traversed a tangent that she was not very confident of being able to do so. She feared that instead of stepping through to an Earth she barely knew, she would find herself there outside the gates of heaven and see the chains pulling up the bars and the huge Guardian Iur-Fax swinging his thick, muscular arm toward the castle, a bull voice roaring “Sata!”—Welcome!

Gina remembered the lessons of her children, lifetime after lifetime, teaching them what all good Ghoupalle children should know.

Nourii stands tallest among the goddesses, presumed the eldest of Great God Zaul, red hair and pink skin, scars of war across her chest, breastless (one lost in battle, the other the result of self-mutilation after being outraged by the cheating god, Katoux); long, sharpened teeth and fingernails; rides a three-wheeled chariot pulled by three bintur—giant red badgers. People pray to her for strength during difficult times, though she seldom listens.

 Pemaa, the quiet sister, loves to cook and enjoys a clean home; plays with small animals; eats only three plants: eguo, blith, and resh, usually together in the same meal. Believed to care about young lovers, popular with girls who are popular with boys. She sleeps with snakes and plays with fish, often acting as a mermaid and tricking sailors.
   Roloura is the smart one, the scientist of the family, the holder of stars and worlds, the measurer of everything, the decider of days and nights and lifetimes. People call to her for longer lives, shorter work hours, extra tries in sporting events, and a full growing season for crops. She seldom grants favors other than a single extra day for the truly righteous people who lie upon their death beds.

Garou has hair blacker than night, eyes of red, hands that sweat blood with six fingers each, feet with six toes each; long feet and long legs that stride the world, from kingdom to kingdom; who hovers over croplands to water the soil from her loins; who calls women to bow to the earth before giving birth. Mothers-to-be sometimes sacrifice to her, leaving one of their fingers buried in the soil of a garden.

Emmau is the child of innocence, the irrational waif who prefers to play games than take the fate of mortals seriously. She is often chastised for her lack of concern. She responds that eternity is long enough for both work and play; she will do her work later. The lazy people of Ghoupallesz pray to her, begging for excuses to skip work or school or come home to spouses after cheating on them. She laughs a lot, and almost always at inappropriate moments.

Furanna, the matron saint of the Furank people, is a warrior goddess with a silver shield who lives deep in the forests and rides a jalo. Always surrounded by fairies, often sung to by birds, given fish and fowl for food by mountain gnomes whom she prefers as bedmates. She carries a silver spear that can penetrate anything and is forever sharp. She takes it to bed with her.

Aburra is the happy one, full of juicy fruit and cuddly pet animals, the one who dances across the clouds. She wears flowers and nothing else, and carries small, divine pugua in her arms at all times. She never sits, not wanting to smash her buttocks, and believes her bottom has the most perfect curves in the universe. She is often painted as a nude figure admired by a circle of lusty men.

Sethi is thoughtful, kind when it suits her, helpful with household matters, believed responsible for the deaths of babies when the mothers are unsuitable. Men pray to her for a woman who will please them in the qala; they pray to Pemaa for a good, faithful wife, however. Most young couples have a Sethi icon hanging on the wall over the qala.

Memitha is the ornery one, always looking for ways to hinder progress; she loves throwing obstacles before mortals. Traditionally she has brown hair with streaks of golden locks throughout. Her body is the one men dream of as they mate with their wives, yet were they to be welcomed by her they would die before they could satisfy her. She never takes shit from anyone—god, goddess, or mortal. She loves playing handball with human heads and never loses.

Gina took a breath, let it out slowly, patiently.

“I am Memitha. And you are toast.”

***
The Overlord did not understand her reference to ‘burnt bread’ but he got the gist of her demeanor: the Overlord was nevertheless a mortal and had not been acting very decently in recent weeks. He was therefore subject to discipline and Goddess Memitha had been assigned to dispense it. First, however, she needed to get to Vazak-Mixerran’s country house and fly the aircraft to Kobarêl. Only then could the spanking begin....

 

Now she has to prove it with her special goddess-like powers...somehow. Perhaps storm the high-rise "palace" and capture the Overlord, force him to command the release of her daughter. Or perhaps she could use the jet aircraft, secretly built by her former colleague Vazak-Mixerran (who also built the fuel cell she was trying to exchange for her daughter), to buzz the conference of the International Aerospace Commission as they await the results of the Zetin's attempt to send missiles to destroy the comet. Or any of a number of other possibilities. With a Work-In-Production anything is possible. And everything is possible!


I promise you it will all be sorted out by the time you finish reading THE DREAM LAND Book I "Long Distance Voyager" (available now) and Book II "Dreams of Future's Past (coming this summer). Book III "Diaspora" is anticipated for early 2014.

NOTE: The accompanying pictures of goddesses are not intended to represent those particular deities described. As divine law prohibits any depiction of the gods and goddesses, I sought only to give some visual support to the text. No disrespect to the nine goddesses was ever intended. I shall perform the required penitence if any goddess deems it appropriate as a result of my lapse of decorum.


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(C) Copyright 2010-2013 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.