Beware of Children's Toys

Things can get out of hand with surprising rapidity...

Jurassic Parkour...

Yes, it's a thing. Dinosaurs did it. We now have video evidence:

Is this an opening scene?

It's no secret that I've been trying to write a fantasy novel for... I don't know. Several years, now. Longer than that, if you count other fantasy novels that I've also tried to write. Over Christmas, I sat down and sorted out the various opening scenes I'd written for this one project. Doing this was both enlightening, and a little appalling. I have thirteen different approaches that I've tried, each with anywhere from one to eight actual documents. Taken together, it's enough raw text to constitute a novel in its own right, albeit a very weird and somewhat repetitive novel that was basically just variations on a character. On the other hand, it was actually constructive to look at all these different approaches and see how they fit with the characters, how well they did (or didn't) lead into the things I want to do with (and to) the character(s), and why they did (or, almost universally, didn't) work.

Writing, in a lot of cases, seems to be a lot like trouble-shooting. Maybe not for everybody -- I mean, I know not everybody feels compelled to start at the front of the book and write their way onward to the end -- but for me, usually, it does. In this particular case, I have an idea for a character, I have an idea for an overall plot arc for his world, and I have a couple of particular stages or developments (a real writer might call them "scenes") that I want to see him go through. This is where the problem-solving comes in. The basic questions are, "How do we introduce this character so that readers care what happens to him?" and "How do we get from that introduction, whatever it is, to the things that I desperately want to include in this story?"

Which brings me to the following scene. I'm not sure it's the start of the book; I'm not sure it's part of the book at all. But I think it's the start of the book in the sense that I have to write this, just to have the scene and situation clear in my head when I reach the actual start of the book.

Dusk slipped silently into the tiny camp, a dark, armored shadow intruding into the firelight. Somber had chosen the place well: it was a tiny clearing between three large and ancient trees, with the fire tucked down into the hollow at the center, and the bedroll spread out beside it. If she hadn't been following his scent, it might have taken her hours or even days to find it.

Somber was standing on the far side of the clearing, between the trees, looking out into the darkness of the surrounding forest. The nightmare on his shoulder was a dark blur, barely visible even to her beast-sharp eyes. For a moment, Dusk thought she'd arrived unnoticed; then, without turning, Somber whispered: "Be still. There's something out there."

Dusk paused for a moment, scenting the air. Then she twisted, slipping the roll of cloth off her back and dropping it nearly onto the bedroll. She looked warily around the clearing, and picked out three other beasts... only these were dead, immobile and scentless where they crouched in the shadows of the trees. They had to be Somber's work, but none of them were looking at her, either. Their were merely... waiting.

Oh, I do not like this, thought Dusk.

She could smell Somber himself, the slightly musky scent of healthy human male soured slightly by a day or two without bathing; a faint hint of fresh blood that was probably coming from his nightmare; the heavy earth-scent of the soil; a blend of plant-smells, pleasantly mingled, carried on the night air; and nothing else. She couldn't hear any movements, either, though the night wind pushing through the trees overhead might be disguising any number of softer sounds. The only movement she could see was the flicker of the fire, and the twitching dance of the shadows it cast.

Something moved, circling around the edge of the camp. She couldn't see it, or smell it, or hear it, but Dusk knew it was there all the same. The scales rippled on her back, and her claws gripped the soil. Somber stepped back into the camp. raising his arms defensively.

Darkness gathered where he'd been standing a moment earlier, coalescing into something that might have been a human shadow, except there was nobody to cast it and nothing but empty air for it to fall on. It gained depth, became solid, and before Dusk could even begin to react it became an almost-human figure, looking at them.

It would have been a man, tall, slim, and broad-shouldered, much like Somber himself; but it was built of blacks and grays, untouched by the orange-and-yellow light of the fire.

Somber spat a quick phrase and gestured, and a line of fire flared from the ground in front of the shadow's feet. "No further," he said.

At last... The thought drifted through the clearing. It was soundless, but Dusk heard it anyway. I apologize for the intrusion, and for what I must do to you--

That must have been enough, because Somber whispered a single word and the three dead beasts lunged towards the intruding shadow-man. They were quick and fierce: two wolves, and a tiny thing that had probably been some sort of rodent. Dusk had a brief moment to think that she might have survived that attack, but she knew the dead things were there, and in her bestial form she was armored and--

The intruder moved, almost blurring as something dark swirled around him, whiplike arms reaching out to smash the reanimated beasts. Very good, it acknowledged as the bones fell, and stepped across the line of fire. Dusk caught a hint of unfamiliar clothing as it moved: a sleeveless robe, a wide belt, loose pants, boots...

The camp was small, they were all too close together, and the intruder was fast. Before either of them could do anything, he had reached up to place the palm of his hand against Somber's forehead. Somber reacted automatically, with two-handed deflection that should have broken a man's arm, but his hands passed through the intruder. He jerked back at the shadow-man's touch, his body suddenly stiff.

Then the nightmare on his shoulder threw itself at the intruder. For a moment, it was visible: an inchoate darkness full of claws and teeth, something spreading out behind it that might be wings and a whiplike tail. It fastened onto the shadow-man's face, ripping and tearing, and he wrenched back. For a moment, his body almost mirrored Somber's, but his hand never left Somber's forehead.

Then his other hand came across, tendrils of darkness swirling around it, and tore the nightmare away. The intruder straightened, struggling to hold the nightmare at arm's length, and turned its attention back to Somber. Dusk tensed. Whatever this thing was, whether or not it was solid or even truly there, this was her best chance to take it down: now, while it was completely distracted.

She sprang, touched down, and then came up for its throat. If there was anything like flesh there, she was going to rip it out.

The world disappeared in an expanding ball of darkness.

There's another scene that comes after this, before what I think will be the actual opening scene. If it works the way I think it does, I'll post that on the blog as well.

Real Adults

First, some background: Secondborn is in Kindergarten. He's been having some trouble with his Sight Words (I suspect mainly because he's been having some trouble sitting still), so the other night the Beautiful Woman (my wife, his mother) took some note cards and made labels for some of the common items in our kitchen: sink, refrigerator, oven, cabinet, step stool, drawer, etc.

Then, a couple of days later, we decided to have Thai food for dinner. Among the items we ordered were some curry puffs. In the dipping sauce for the curry puffs was a bit of jalapeño. Upon finding this in her mouth, the Beautiful Woman remarked: "Wow, I just got a bit of jalapeño. A year ago, I wouldn't have liked it, but that was really good. I feel like a real adult now!"

So I got up from the table, found a note card, and made a little sign. I taped it on her back while she was busy getting a cup for one of the boys. "What does it say?" she asked suspiciously. "'Kick me'?"

I gestured for Firstborn to read it to her. "It says, 'Real Adult'," he told her.

"I thought you needed a label," I added, gesturing vaguely at the various note cards scattered around the kitchen.

The Beautiful Woman laughed, Firstborn laughed, Secondborn laughed, I laughed... and then Firstborn got a gleam in his eye.

He went and found the note cards, wrote something (without letting me see it), then came around and taped it on my back.

"I think I should be worried," I observed.

"What does it say?" asked the Beautiful Woman.

Firstborn just walked back to his seat, looking smug.

I stood up and turned around. The Beautiful Woman looked at it, then had Secondborn spell it out. "R-E-A-L N-E-R-D... Is that a dash? ...U-L-T." There was a brief pause. "Real Nerdult?"

Firstborn nodded. I broke up laughing. We congratulated Firstborn for coming up with a joke of his own that was hilariously funny, utterly appropriate to its target (me), and not in any way mean.

This prompted Secondborn to get up, collect a note card, and write his own note, which he also taped on my back.

The Beautiful Woman read this one with a slightly puzzled expression. "K-O-L-R?" she asked. "Koler?"

Secondborn nodded, grinning happily. "It's because you play Infamous so much," he told me. "And the character you play is Cole."

"So I'm a Cole-er," I elaborated. He nodded, pleased that I got it.

So we laughed and congratulated him on coming up with his own species of joke, which again was funny, appropriate, and not mean.

On a related note, if I ever write an autobiography, I may very well have to entitle it, Memoir of a Real Nerdult.

Kids in Bars

It's late -- a bit after Lights Out. Firstborn, however, is very stuffy, so the Beautiful Woman (my wife, for anyone coming in late) has taken him out to the living room to run the deep-tissue massager over his back and hopefully shake loose some of his mucus. Secondborn, of course, has come out to watch... and then come to the dining room to pry me away from the computer, because apparently I need to watch, too.

When I arrive in the living room, I find that Secondborn has pulled out the long, narrow gymnastics mat and set three child-sized chairs on it, all in a row, all facing the same way. Secondborn immediately seats himself in the front chair. I take the seat behind him, but I'm too late to watch; the Beautiful Woman has just switched off the massager, and Firstborn has just gotten up from the couch. He stops beside the row of chairs on the gymnastics mat, so I say: "Sit back there," and point to the seat behind me.

"You sit back there," replies Firstborn.

I stand up. "What, I'm all back-of-the-bus now?" Then I move to the rear chair and sit down again.

Firstborn takes the middle seat. "No," he tells me. "We're measuring the WiFi signal." He points at his younger brother, sitting in front of him. "The tiny bar's WiFi is weak!" Then he turns back and points at me: "The tall bar means WiFi is strong!"

And that's it. I lose it completely. I am laughing too hard to breathe. I thought we were making a bus, but no: Firstborn has arranged us into a signal strength meter.

Churchy Links

I've been seeing another run of "Share The Gospel" billboards recently, so I thought I'd go check out their websites and see what they have to say.

First up: Wake Up World.

Their website is surprisingly minimal for a group that "exists to bring spiritual awakening, awareness, and curiosity to our world by having a presence online, on billboards, and in newspapers." There's the homepage, the About Us page (which doesn't actually say much of anything about them), the Contact Us page (which at least gives an address -- in Snyder, TX, which is a bit west of Fort Worth), and the Free Gift page. The Free Gift page is the most substantial thing on the site, and it isn't much; it's a slideshow that looks like any number of "Have You Been Born Again?" pamphlets from back in the eighties. You probably know the sequence already: We are all sinners, sin separates us from God, God provided Jesus' death on the cross to bridge the gap, now say the Sinner's Prayer so you're covered. The About Us page says, "Even if you do not believe in god, we hope that you will explore him further," but if you are going to do that, you won't find much to explore here. Maybe they expect people to contact them, or interact on their Facebook page (they have a bunch of links to their social media sites), but the website itself is strangely barren. Possibly the most interesting thing about it was their background image:

I assume that the implication here is that the earthquakes spoken of in Matthew 24 won't be regular tectonic activity, but rather a planet-sized alarm clock finally going off.

Next up: Jesus Cares.

This website opens with a video that seems determined to depress you (or, if you're already depressed, to depress you further). Be warned: it autoplays, and there's audio. And about halfway through, it becomes apparent that the benighted thing is supposed to be narrated by the Almighty. I am... as a former Christian, I find this rather appalling. ("Are you feeling trapped and hopeless? Come to our website, where we presume to speak for Jesus!" Gahhhhh...) I don't think it's just the video, either; the billboard seems to imply that the site has a 2,000 year old resurrected Nazarene manning the chat windows, and I'm pretty sure that isn't the case.

The main focus -- aside from the videos, which are plentiful and slickly produced -- is on talking to their "coaches", either by email or online chat. That's not an entirely bad approach; at least there's some potential for genuine human interaction there. I do wonder how well-equipped those coaches are to deal with someone who's, say, clinically depressed or actively suicidal, since jesuscares.com is pretty up front about the fact that their setup is designed to point people to Jesus and/or get them into churches. (They do have a section to help you locate a nearby affiliated church, too.)

Overall, it's a much more developed site than Wake Up World; there's more to look at, more information to explore, videos to watch, an actual statement of faith, etc. That said, it's still basically the same old message repackaged: whatever your problems might be, Jesus is the answer. (I don't think they'd take that as a criticism, either; they're pretty up-front about saying that they aren't really trying to do anything theologically new.) I admit to being a bit curious about whether much of anybody really finds this sort of thing helpful. It seems like the sort of people who would be most receptive to this sort of message are the ones who believe it already, and therefore don't much need to hear it repeated.

Finally: I'll be back... Jesus

This last site is the least professional-looking of the three. The homepage is basically just a bunch of Bible verses followed by the Sinner's Prayer, but... well, first of all, somebody has no idea how to use ellipses correctly. Instead, they've used a row of dots going halfway across the page... and that's in their title graphic. Second, they've divided the page text into two columns (why?) and used a background image that's much too dark and has too much texture. Combined with a relatively small font, this makes the homepage annoyingly difficult to read; the text keeps fading into the background. There's a row of menu buttons at the top, which are mostly repeated as text links at the very bottom of the page. The whole thing is kind of muddy, and looks like it was built around 1992.

Their About Us page states that the people behind the site are "a group of interdenominational Christians who want to remind the world that Jesus Christ will return as he said" and omits to mention that they are desperately in need of someone capable of proofreading. (The Contact Us form on the same page includes the instruction, "Tye message here." I'm not sure who Tye is, but hopefully he's not the only one who can submit a message there.) The rest of the site... eh, there's not much else to say about it, except that it's equally odd and amateur.

So, there you go. My curiosity is satisfied. I suppose something on these sites might be new and different to some young seeker somewhere (though as I've said before, I kind of doubt it; Christianity is ubiquitous enough that even people raised in other religions get exposed to the broad outlines of Christian belief). For someone like me, it's the same old mess of presuppositions and unsupported assertions, approaches that would have made me uncomfortable even back when I was a Christian.

Snappy Answers to Pop Songs

Locked Away:

If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me honestly, would you still love me the same?

Answer: Honey, what exactly have you just done? What did you do?

---

Chandelier:

I'm going to swing from the chandelier...

Answer: Really? You may look like only weigh about as much as my cat, but I still don't think it'll hold you.

---

Uma Thurman:

She wants to dance like Uma Thurman...

Answer: Go for it. Not seeing a problem here.