Interviews: The Path to Fame

Tuesday morning Patricia and I sat down for an interview.  One of the questions involved a term I hadn’t heard of before.  I had heard of writer’s block. I fight it constantly, like a lot of other writers.  But readers’ block I hadn’t heard of before. Patricia explained it as when you just can’t get into a book or story you’re reading. I explained that I was going through it at that very moment with a book I was reading called Goblin Corps (author’s name withheld)  I’m sure he worked very hard on his book, but I just can’t get into the story.  

I may well have used up my 15 minutes of fame by now, but it’s all right, because several of my friends who don’t want fame gave me theirs.  I need fame, because as an author my success depends on it. My favorite song by the late great David Bowie is “Fame.” It’s funny about writing.  It’s the one field I can think of where participants actively encourage those who might well become our competitors. But maybe not. After all, we are each in pursuit of our niche audience; our own special corps of readers.  My readers may find your books tedious, while your readers may find mine frivolous, and so on it goes.  

I finally thought of the word I was searching for this morning to explain how I feel when I’ve been writing.  Endorphins get released from my brain into my blood stream, and so I spend the rest of the day riding a writer’s high.  It gets to be that way when you are doing your rue Will, what you were always meant to do, and I discovered this without going into seclusion for six months to do the Abra Melin working.  It’s a working some magicians perform, to attain knowledge and conversation with their Holy Guardian Angel. But I knew mine in life, and he was always encouraging about my writing. In fact, he described NaNoWriMo as “the Olympics for writers.”  I have always fancied this comparison of writers with athletes. One of the hints I drew from a book I have on outwitting writer’s block is “the ugly notebook,” where I warm up my brain in preparation for writing, just as an athlete or dancer warms hir muscles in preparation for performing hir sport or dance.

We discussed briefly my current project about exploring the Andromeda Galaxy after using their new friends’ technique of felding  space to get there when it is millions of lightyears distant. She was tickled when I told her that the dominant life form is feline.  They have a very delicate hold on the galaxy, mostly performing the administrative tasks necessary to hold their empire together.

It was an enjoyable experience, so much better than when I used to be interviewed for a job.  Now I’m being interviewed for what I was always meant to be, a writer, and that’s as it should be.  Stay tuned for exciting news regarding my next release from Crimson Frost Books.

World Building> Culture>Invented Religion

When world building, the religion or ideology you choose to saddle it with can flavor the entire culture.  Look at the influence Western Christianity has had on both Europe and the Americas. Sure, there are some Native American influences on Latin American Catholicism, see for example the Virgin of  Guadalupe being the Aztec goddess Tonantzin syncretized to the Virgin Mary. And there are other examples, too numerous to mention in Central and South America.  

Getting away from Christianity now, I wanted to develop an antagonist for my intergalactic contact story, which I am now in the process of creating.  The evangelical jesoids proved to be too easily killed, and I wanted an antagonist with some oomph behind him/them, so I decided to invent my own religion.  Although decidedly alien, being from another galaxy (Andromeda) and all, I wanted this faith to have the most annoying characteristics of several Earth religions I knew of, namely evangelical Christianity, Mormonism, Hare Krishna, and Scientology.  

One factor that stands out, for me, anyway, will be male leaders with hypnotic control over their flocks.  These leaders have supernatural power over their flocks. They can get them to do anything for the good of the cult, including sacrificing their  very lives.For this exercise, I also decided to bring out a concept I’d used in a piece of fanfic I’d written some 40 years ago, the opposite of the Force, the Flow.  It does what you might imagine it does; it flows over a person, enabling hir to do what s/he would reckon to be impossible, if not highly unlikely. This means s/he can go invisible, flow under doorways, and teleport.  S/he would have total command over matter and mass. Of course, I’ll have to think of some limitations. It wouldn’t do to have hir be omnipotent, after all, and maybe hir power is relative to hir status within hir congregation.  Yeah, that’s the ticket, I’ll go with that.  

Of course, were you to invent a religion, it would have vastly different parameters, depending upon your experience and reading on the topic.  See what you can do, starting with a tabla rasa, a clean slate, so to speak..

A Writer's Greatest Tool--Hir Sub/unconscious

What is a writer’s greatest tool?  No, it isn’t your PC, your laptop, your tablet or your favorite pen.  It’s right between your ears, and yet as large as outer space itself. It is where all your ideas come from, the fount of all our symbols and images.  Sigmund Freud called it the subconscious, and Carl Jung called it the unconscious. I put it on 2 different levels, and call it the sub/unconscious. We are only dimly aware of the subconscious.  It comes through in our dreams, and some of the things we say when we are not thinking. The unconscious comes through literally when we are unconscious, under anesthesia or from an accidental blow to the head, or the hallucinations of a schizophrenic or under the influence of LSD or shrooms.  

They are different for everyone, and are the sum total of everything you’ve ever experienced, through life experiences, books you’ve read (including the Bible.  A frightening amount of images come from religious imagery) TV or movies you’ve seen. If you are religious and go to a church where an effective orator is preaching, many images can come from listening to that person’s sermons.  All this is uploaded to our own personal mental Cloud, to use computer terminology, and can be accessed almost spontaneously.

In the days before I made friends with my own sub/unconscious, I used to try to scare myself with these images because I was then writing a novel about a woman who was being pursued by something so horrible that she could not even face it.  This will be featured in a forthcoming novel. I wanted to see what was so horrible that one could not even face it. Then there is what Paul Atreides said in Dune to his grandmother the Reverend Mother Helen Gaius Mohiam, “Try looking into that place where you do not dare look.  There you will find me, staring back at you.” I have tried looking into that place which is unlookable to “us, to women.”There I only see a reflection of my own face.

Then, sometime in my late forties, (I am now only a couple weeks short of turning 73) I made the conscious decision to make friends with my own sub/unconscious, and do you know what happened?  The images I used to frighten myself with no longer had the power to frighten me. I could look upon the face of the Christians’ pet thought form Satan himself, and be unfazed. I imagined the bloodiest scenes I could, the better to describe them for my stories, and still I was unfazed.  Now I wonder why this is. Have I become so callous and inured to these scenes that they have no effect on me? Has observing violence on television gotten me so unsensitized that I am immune to any emotional effect? I have a tendency, when things bog down in a story, to start a war or an argument among my characters.  

There are three and a half months until the first Camp NaNoWriMo, and I already have an idea for it.  Where did that idea come from? (See last Thursday’s blog about where story ideas come from.) Superficially it came from a show I was streaming on Netflix called The Pyramid Code, that that idea germ merged with some memories in my mind about Nikola Tesla, and before I knew it, I had a full blown story idea in my head.  Certainly some images from my sub/unconscious must’ve gotten in there and clinched the deal, because soon I was scribbling the story idea in my notebook, which I keep in the bookcase headboard of my bed.  

I urge you in the strongest possible terms to make friends with your sub/unconscious.  Who knows what hidden treasures you can discover between the veils?

Two Recipes

Today I am going to share two recipes with you; one is for a slightly more prosperous holiday gathering, the other for a poverty-stricken meal.  

CANDIED SWEET POTATOES

2 30 oz cans sweet potatoes, drained

8 ozs mini-marshmallows white or multi colored

1/2 C brown sugar

1 large egg

1/4 tsp pumpkin pie spice

Pour the sweet potatoes into a large casserole dish. Pour in egg, sugar, and spice Whip at medium speed until light and fluffy. Gently fold in marshmallows so that a few remain on top. Cover.   Bake in 350 degree oven for 30 minutes. Serve with your turkey or ham. Enjoy. Serves 6

FOOD STAMP Chicken Soup

2 chicken thighs.  Don’t worry if they are frozen, They’ll thaw as they’re cooking.  

1 small package frozen peas or green beans.  Actually, you can use any vegetable you fancy.

2 packages Chicken flavor Ramen.  There are 2 or three brands on the market, but I believe the most popular brand is Top Ramen, the 2nd most popular is Maruchan Ramen.  

Cook chicken in a 3qt sauce pan in 1 quart water and the contents of the flavor packets from the Ramen packages.  Cook it until the meat falls off the bones, stirring occasionally. Take out the bones and gristle from the chicken and discard.  Add vegetable and noodles, simmer until a bean or pea is hot all the way through 3-5 minutes, and the noodles are al dente. Add pepper to taste and serve.  Serves 2.

I used to take the thighs, ramen, and frozen vegetable in a waterproof bag to my friend’s apartment on the bus, and the frozen ingredients would thaw while I rode the bus to his place.  Ramen has plenty of salt in it, so I only say to add pepper.

The Writer & the Holidays

I’ll say it out right now.  I am a Scrooge. I’m not a fan of the holidays.  My mantra is “Bah humbug!.” As a Pagan, I hate all the commercialism.  Yule is my least favorite Sabbat. Writing is my coping mechanism. I have a blog to do for my publisher once a week, and then I’ll probably cast about for an idea for another novella to start.  Actually, my current reason for hating the holiday is limited funds. If you feel the same way, what is your reason? Is it the stress of rushing around, trying to find the right gift for everyone on your list, decorating, and planning and creating the perfect Christmas feast?  There are entirely too many ads around imaging the “Perfect Christmas/Yule.”

I think of the veterans who don’t have families, many don’t even have homes, and they’re confronted with this traumatic image of the perfect holiday.  Many take their final solution this time of year for this very reason. The veterans’ crisis lines must be ringing off the hook this time of year, made even worse by a president who boasts of being the veterans’ friend, but in reality cuts funds to the very services their meager lives depend on.  End of my political rant.

Years ago, I wrote filks of some of the better known carols so that I and others like me could bear to sing them.  “Oh Little House at Boleskine” and the Thelemic version of “Silent Night” might yet become part of the canon. For those who don’t know, a filk is different words set to a familiar tune.  The “Star Spangled Banner” is actually a filk, set as it was to a bawdy 17th century drinking song. The drinking song has been forgotten, but people all over the world know the US anthem.  

One friend, I think he’s dead now, penned an essay called “Merry Mythmas!” about all the Pagan traditions of the holiday.  I used to photocopy it, and pass the copies around. Some parts of it were rather gory, and could trigger some of us with rather delicate sensibilities, but the balls on the Yule tree weren’t always made of glass.  But I think that the more bigoted among us, who declare that there “really is a war on Christmas,” and won’t accept a “Happy Holidays” or “Seasons Greetings” greeting, deserve to have their sensibilities triggered. They believe it’s “their” holiday, and will go through some elaborate gyrations to prove it.  The one book they fall back on is their bible, which we Pagans don’t accept as holy writ, so they’re screwed there.  

It all boils down to one thing: if you get down  or stressed about the holidays, write about it. If you call yourself a writer, you should be taking a notebook with you everywhere you  go anyway, because you never know when inspiration will strike for that Great American Novel or Great Canadian Novel if you are a countryman or -woman of Elise Whyles’.  Write while you are in line at the grocer’s or the department story, or Walmart, or any of the other stores you find yourself at. I say write, meaning with pen on paper for 2 reasons: 1: I kick it old school. 2: Studies have shown that you remember it  better if you write it by hand, rather than dictate it, or type it into some app, and my shrink adds, “Repeat it orally as you write it down, and you’ll retain it even longer.”

So, writers, take solace in your writing.  Readers, take solace in your books. It’s only one  month out of the year, and then you can return to business as usual.

Interview with a Character: Kaguhi Maimun-Cheng

Rita:  This week we’re interviewing Kaguhi Mainmun-Cheng, Takel’s older sister, and Takuhi’s daughter.  Like her mother, Kaguhi is a Kulturologist. Do you have to be bred for this work, Kaguhi?

Kaguhi:  Our DNa is designed for it, yes.  But when the Order was first started, over 2 millennia ago, having the right qualities and traist was a matter of chance.  Many girls washed out of the Order before people were able to genetically design their babies, and then, it was largely a matter of who would be willing and able to raise these children until they would be able to join the Cloister at the age of 7.  

Rita:  You mean love and care for a child, knowing she wasn’t truly “yours.”

Kaguhi:   My grandmother did it, and so did my mother.  But Grandmere did it as a kind of second career.  She had raised two sets of three before my mother, my uncle, and aunt came along, and raised two more sets after them.  She liked her children in sets of three, for some reason.

Rita:  I think it’s interesting that you have chosen to carry on in your career as a Kulturologist, instead of living full time in the palace, leading the life of a Compirial Princess.

Kaguhi:  Of course I must.  Can you think of any life more deathly dull than that of a princess?  Oh, please, give me a break! And that silly wave we’re supposed to do when we’re out in public!  That’s strictly yawnsville.  

Rita:I can see where you would grow weary of that life, as active a young woman as you are.  But when you do have to spend time at the palace, in between missions, what do you like to do for fun?

Kaguhi:  I like to dance.  Do you have any idea how huge the rooms are in that place?  Why, the refectory at the Cloister would fit in my bed chamber, with room left over for my brother’s workout room.  So in my bedchamber, I have plenty of room to dance, really stretch out, you know? I think there used to be a lot more furniture in the room, but my mother had it moved out, because she knew how much I love to dance.

Rita:  Which styles do you do?

Kaguhi:  Oh, you name them, I’ll at least try it.  Nearly all the styles of old lost Erth, plus a few of the world out here.  I even learned one from the Cat people, you know, one of our allies in the war against the reptilians and the bugs.  By the way, Rita, do you know why Kujlturologist is always spelled with a capital K?

Rita:  I think I did know once upon a time.  Oh, do tell us. I’m sure our readers are dying to know.

Kaguhi:  It comes from the German word das Kultur.  German was one of Erth’s languages. It means the arts, the humanities.  I went to the German planet UberAlles after graduation to check whether their society had developed any unfortunate tendencies, like fascism, you know.  But it was a freewheeling happy society. I developed a taste for microbrew beer there. Great place, and great sausages.

Rita:  What is your favorite treat or food?

Kaguhi:  I am a confirmed chocoholic, and when it’s cold out, I like to snuggle up with a big mug of Mexihot chocolate with lots of foam on top, and just the merest touch of rum to deepen the chocolate flavor.  That’s one of the few luxuries I love about hanging around my mother’s palace. Her chef Henri makes the best hot chocolate I have ever had. And I thought the hot chocolate at the Cloister was good. It doesn’t even hold a candle to Henri’s.  I don’t know how he does it. He won’t let me in the kitchen to observe. If there’s snything we SIster love to do it’s observe how people do things/  

Rita:  Thank you, Kaguhi, or should I call you Your Highness?

Kaguhi:  You do, and get ready to be throttled.  

Rita:  That was most enlightening.  Until next week, Bright Stars!  

Interview with a Character:Lt. Hermes Gorsuch

Rita:  Hello, this is Rita Trevalyan with another character Lt. Herm`es Gorsuch.  He started out as a Master Sergeant, but received a battlefield commission between the 2nd and 3rd book of my accidental trilogy. Hello, Lieutenant.

Gorsuch:  Hello, Ma’am.  

Rita:Which planet are you from, originally?

Gorsuch:  Zyeho IV. It’s a lovely world.  You really should visit it sometime.

Rita:  I shall, when I get the chance.  I don’t often get out of this Solar System, you  know. But back to you: Are you married?

Gorsuch:  Yes, Seven years now and have 3 kids, 2 boys and a girl.  Really sweet, well behaved kids. Smart, too.

Rita:  Who is your wife?  What does she do?

Gorsuch:  Strangely enough, she has the same first name as you, Rita.  She works from home. She’s a digital librarian for our town library.  She has a very capable chemdroid watching the kids. My eldest is in school.  We expect he’ll either go to the Stellarman Academy or the Feldmar Institute next year.

Rita:  Where do you see yourself in five Galactic Standard years, Lieutenant?

Gorsuch:  Well, if I survive the next war, and we’re fixin’ to have one, Ms. Trevalyan, don’t kid yourself, with their allies the Oraspighi at their sides, having taught then how to do away with the need for females completely, the Koinonians are going to attack the Inner Worlds, and when that happens, all Hral will break loose.  You watch.

Rita:  Whooee!  Another war!  I’ll bet the Empress won’t be real happy about that..She hates war.    You say they have no females? How did they do that?

Gorsuch:  Well, as my daddy used to say, “Beats me, Lieutenant, I’m not the regular crew chief.”  I come from a military family, you know. But Daddy never liked base housing. He reasoned, that with transmats everywhere, a soldier can be on duty in a matter of nanoseconds, no matter where he is in the Compire.  And I can train for the battlefield better if I live close to a wilderness, so that’s where I’m bringing up my children. I’ve been on leave there for the past couple of lunations.  

Rita: do you have any pastimes or hobbies not related to fighting?

Gorsuch:  In my copious spare time, haha, I put together models of battle starships.  Other than that, I’m training, always training. Gotta stay battle ready, you know.  It wouldn’t do at all to let myself become soft.

Rita:  Do you have any pets?

Gorsuch:  I don’t know if you’d really call them pets, per se, dogs.  But I raise fighting dogs. They can sniff out explosives and warn us human soldiers.  They also warn against other kinds of booby traps. They’re not ordinary regular dogs. They’re mutants, genetically designed like we are.  And my wife, she has a cat that can talk. The chemdroids clean the cat box, but mostly the cat uses the toilet like we do.

Rita:  Are your parents alive?

Gorsuch:  No. My dad got killed in the war against the Koinonians and the aliens, those bugs, they’re so disgusting, you know?  Mom’s still alive, though. She takes a rejuve bath every 5 years, you know, to stay young. She has a not a boyfriend, that’s so jejeune, Significant Oth, I think you’d call him.  Nice guy, and he really thinks a lot of Mom, treats her right, you know, like a lady should be.

Rita: And we’ll close with what is your earliest memory?

Gorsuch:  I think I was about three Galactic Standard Years old.  My dad took me out in the woods to experience nature. He was going hunting, but I just sat on a fallen log and observed all the creatures.  They were all curious about me. They knew to avoid my dad, because he had a gun, no, not a gun, this is your weapon, this is you gun, your weapon is for killing, your gun is for fun.  They came up and sniffed me.

Rita:  Thank you, Lieutenant.  That was very enlightening.