Short Stories

Brandon Sanderson showed up on my radar screen in 2014 and has very quickly become one of my favorite authors. Since I went through his Mistborn trilogy, I have been working my way through all of his stuff. He has a unique vision for his fantasy works that is interesting, compelling, and just plain good story telling. Recently I got my hands on three of his novellas (each available for free download on the author's web page) and spent a couple of hours putting myself in his capable hands and just letting go.

The Hope of Elantris: A side story that was part of his initial draft for Elantris that was removed to streamline the narrative. It tells the story of the Elantrian mutants defending their city against a final scourging attack from the outside just before they undergo their final metamorphosis. Touching and poignant. Who are truly the heroes and who are the villains?

Defending Elysium: An interesting take about an agent responsible for keeping the peace between humanity and the various alien races that interact with Earth. A man with unique psionic powers who has long since settled into his own view of the universe and the relationships of the different sentient species. It takes a very unsettling event to find out that the so-called peaceful and evolved species that he interacts with may not be what he has come to believe.

Firstborn: A hero of the human race, the perfect commander to help bring order to the empire, a man whose cunning, strategy, and bravery have led him to victory in every battle that he has engaged in. Slowly it becomes apparent to the emperor and his nobles that the hero has become a rogue agent seeking to consolidate power in his own name. They then work to train his brother in the ways of warfare and command to face his brother and preserve the empire. Yet this younger brother is apparently not skilled in any of the ways his older brother is, yet the emperor firmly believes that he is the only way to save the empire.

Pulchritude

In Shakespeare's classic tragedy Romeo and Juliet, Juliet gives voice to her frustration that the man she loves is a son of a rival house. She a Capulet, he a Montague, but she argues

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
Poor Juliet truly believes in her heart that the name of something does not affect its beauty or its value. A rose would be just as beautiful to look upon and its scent would still be a welcome sweetness regardless of whether it is called a rose or twedgarkin puddledump. Poor Juliet, poor deluded Juliet. With holding to misconceptions like this, is it any wonder that she died so young and by her own hand?

The classic counter-example of names that doom someone to the "Ugh-list" are Bertha, Gertrude, Beulah, and Hortense. Have you ever met a woman with any of these names that did not look like a Rubenesque version of a wart-covered Michelin man? Have you ever heard some old-timey geezer refer to his woman as "handsome". That only makes me think that he married some barnyard goat some 50-odd years ago. What about describing the love of your life as having a pulchritudinous glow? I should think that you would immediately be deserving of a wonk upside the head with a heavily laden handbag. You might even get the follow up kick to the Quaker Oats on your way down. Actually, after you return from the emergency room and your vision has returned to normal, you might try to explain to your beloved that pulchritude means beauty. To make up for your unnecessary foray into erudition, you might quote poetry to your still brooding but rueful mate. Something from like

"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies"

When she looks at you like your dog Patches when you try to explain the foundations of quantum mechanics, you can tell her that it is from Byron with just the slightest bit of condescension in your voice. On second thought, maybe you should just banish all such thoughts and be happy that anyone would ever want to have anything to do with you.

The Flames of Shadam Khoreh

The final novel in the Lays of Anuskaya trilogy by Bradley Beaulieu, entitled The Flames of Shadam Khoreh, is the tightest and best written of the group. I think that is saying something given how much I have enjoyed this fantasy series about warring peoples, unlikely alliances, deep seated maneuverings, and the supernatural thread woven throughout. This part of the tale takes place several years after The Straits of Galahesh. There the future of the world teetered on the brink as two ancient souls schemed and manipulated and controlled their way to bring about the end of the world. They had sought out elemental powers to tear open the very fabric of space and time, all in an attempt to bring a merging of the material and the supernatural planes. Only at the last possible moment did an unlikely alliance of former adversaries who had set aside their mutual mistrust and their own agendas come together to work toward a common goal and avert the coming disaster.

In this narrative one of the ancient shaman has inexplicably survived using powers that none had imagined possible. Her single-minded intent was set upon a course to systematically eradicate the final protectors of the realm. Only at the very end does her ultimate scheme and her ultimate purpose become understood. It is not about bringing forth the end of the world or even elevating herself to a higher plane, it is about the lust for unchecked power, for election into godhood. In fact, it seems that she has finally uncovered the knowledge of exactly how to make this happen.

While the story elements are quite fantastical, Beaulieu manages to build the plot to a wholly organic crescendo, never stepping beyond the bounds whose roots have been laid from the outset. Certainly this was a tale with commonplace thematic fantasy elements, but the author developed the plot with imagination, with a unique vision, and with more than a little skill and artistry. Definitely a recommended series for fans of fantasy fiction.

Observations 95

My occasional blog series "Observations" was created to be an outlet to share a variety of topics that pop into my field of view as a result of a condition that many bloggers are afflicted with known as "blogger's eyes". In this state we view the world on the constant look-out for topics on which to write about. Today's blog came about from random odds 'n ends of things that I have noticed over the past few weeks.

• When grossly overweight folks go out in public wearing "skinny" jeans, I think that they do not realize that the style of the jeans in no way transfers to them personally.
  
• If you want to understand what is in your typical witch's cauldron, simply look into a pool opened after being covered since the end of last summer.
  
• Sometimes annoying, unprofessional, small-minded people are given way too much power to make life difficult for others. Why can't they just go away with a silent "poof"?
  
• Why can't the grass in my lawn look as nice at the end of June as it does at the beginning of June?
  
• 100 degree days definitely make it miserable to be outside. At least here in the U.S. we only have to deal with the occasional 100 °F days. In Europe they have to use the Celsius scale and a 100 °C afternoon makes for some pretty damp knickers.
  

Scattering Seeds

Jesus made it clear how we are to go about being generous to others. He told us

"So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full." Matthew 6:2

I think that many acts of apparent generosity and selflessness are actually well tainted with expectations and hooks. People give with the expectation that they will get back. The old quid pro quo. We give of our time and our money with the hope of impressing others, whether it be to attract a mate, to make others think us a certain sort, to get in good with the boss, or to move up on God's list. Too often we may not even be fully aware that we are actually giving with ulterior motives because our prideful attitude creates a light that actually eclipses our ability to see what we are up to. We strut about like a peacock in a parade clanging cymbals over all acts great and small simply to draw attention to our benevolence and our humilty. This was exactly the point Jesus was trying to make. We settle for the low-end immediate reward of attention from those around us, while sacrificing the high-end eternal reward.

Many years ago I had a conversation with a friend whose message has stuck with me over the years. Their feeling was that generosity is not necessarily best served or displayed through grand gestures. In many ways such acts are doomed to come from or end up in the wrong place. Generosity that ultimately means something, that gains a sort of positive traction over the long haul, is about planting small seeds of joy wherever we roam. For many years I dismissed this thought because the acts themselves seemed so small and were so easily unrecognized in the moment. However, I have since had a chance of heart. While I may not have the power or the ability to change someone's life, I have sufficient strength to let them know that I appreciate them, to bring them a smile when they are blue or under stress, to edify them and lift them up. This consistent and intentional sprinkling of seeds, over time, can bloom into a pleasant garden while keeping my own pride and selfish spirit fully in check.

In the News 14

While I have not touched an actual newspaper in some time, I do skim through the online news headlines each day. There is always something that catches my attention, whether it involves human conflict, a human interest piece, the sports wrap, or just the usual absurdities. In this series, I carve out a space for my opinions, reminiscences, or comments.

Cleveland Indians - Adriana Aviles is the 4 year old daughter of the team's shortstop Mike Aviles. The Aviles family was handed the devastating news that Adriana has leukemia and will have to go through a full course of treatments including chemotherapy, which would quickly cause all of her hair to fall out. All of
Mike's teammates and coaches then chose to shave their heads to support Adriana and her family. An absolutely lovely jesture. This story appeared in the news on May 27, 2015.

Phineas and Ferb - Throughout my entire life I have been a fan of cartoons on T.V.. They have a way of helping me to relax and to find my smile. A newer addition to my favorites is the Disney Channel show, Phineas and Ferb, about two step-brothers who look to make each day the best day ever. Not only are they clever, witty, and fun-loving, they are always looking to stand up for their friends and spread joy to those around them. My daughter and I have shared more than a few laughs and good moments while watching the show. Kudos to Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh for their wonderful imagination and for bringing these characters to life. The last episode of Phineas and Ferb aired on June 12, 2015.

Breath

Being a parent is a singular responsibility that too many folks enter into without even the slightest consideration of what they will be in for once the blessed event occurs. Certainly that was the case for me as I was just savoring being with the woman that I loved. The first thing that comes into view in this regard only a few short weeks after conception is the non-trivial financial responsibility that you are now suddenly on the hook for. Experts estimate that the cost to raise a child today is about $250,000. Thankfully that hit is spread out over 20 or so years. However, setting aside the dollars and cents issue, parents with even only a small taste of experience will universally recognize that raising a child gives rise to countless moments that will take your breath away.

Sometimes this gasping for air is associated with the greatest joys that life can provide. Moments that you wish would never end and never fade, that you somehow wish you could bottle up and savor again at a later date. Moments that span an immensity of breadth and depth from the biggest of accomplishments to the smallest of gestures. These times bring joy and contentment and love that linger in our memories and our hearts. These memories sustain and enlift us through our days.

Sometimes the lack of air is associated with a kick to the stomach, periods of sickness and struggle that we are helpless to impact or affect. No hug or kiss can take away the hurt, no pill or treatment seems to bring comfort or peace. I have been enduring such a season now. All too often I have struggled with depression because I am absolutely helpless to bring relief or change. I have no words or magic that make an ounce of difference or have the power to even bring a smile. If I could take the burden and the condition upon myself I would, but life doesn't work that way.