Rhobin Lee Courtright's Blog, page 15

A Ninth Freebits from Acceptance

After the final battle — the ninth of ten 6 paragraph Freebits from Acceptance.

~ * ~
The canons resonated in her ears, though she knew them stopped. She rose to her knees unable to believe she lived. Debris shifted off her buckler, falling to the rent ground. There was nothing left inside her. No feeling or thought as she walked the body-strewn landscape. There was nothing to be done for Tomel. He was either dead or dying. Muted groans and cries penetrated the ringing in her ears. They rose from all around her, competing with the hollow hum in her head. Shaky with fatigue she pushed herself, willed her feet to move, stupefied to the sights, sounds, and smells of death teeming around her. What had happened? Other confused figures milled about in the mayhem.

Too distraught, too stunned, to comprehend the spectacle, she wandered through the thick, dead-still air. Bother. Fudge. Had they survived? She twirled to find the direction, but she was lost, everything so changed. That hill, that was it, wasn't it? No. That one. She walked. It was. It must be. Three times she stopped to rest while climbing the hill. Her heart sank. A shell had struck nearby. No buckskin horse, no shaggy brown dog waited. The wounded men were gone, the earth torn asunder.

A dead pony lay on the ground; his neck stretched forward, tongue extended in a comic, grotesque way. Its back end was missing, entrails spilling on the ground. She backed away from the grizzly sight. Kissre swallowed hard. It wasn't Bother. Not Bother. Not again. She spun, searching the ground. Nothing. The land lay clutched in a creeping yellow blanket of fog. She shouted, whistled, shouted some more. Staggered the length of hill and back. Nothing but bodies appeared through the grisly clouds. She sank to her knees.

A shadow moved slowly beyond some ghostly bones of shrubbery. The form walked toward her out of the amber haze enveloping the hilltop. An errant breeze exploded the acrid and discolored air with a strong whipping gust. A faint roll of thunder echoed through the hills.

She walked forward and fell on Bother's neck, half-hearing her own sobbing relief, her apologies, and her babbling encouragement. She felt him realign his weight and looked down. Blood rolled down his left foreleg. Frantic she inspected the wound, and sighed with relief. It was a minor gash. Slowly and methodically she searched his body for wounds. A few raw patches, a few more small gashes, none threatening, but attesting to his nearness to death. He needed care.

A low whimper broke her inane chatter. "Fudge?" Another low whine answered her. She renewed her search. It took an eternity to find him. He lay under the pony carcass. Trapped. She tried to pull him free. He yipped and bit at her hands. Grabbing the dead horse's front legs, she pulled. Only half the animal was still too heavy. What did half a pony weigh? She had to do it, so kept trying.

~ * ~
Purchase link for Acceptance is in column to the right.
Now go to Ginger's blog and follow the links to other Friday Freebits!

Our Own Reality

We all wake up on the same day… oops, no we don’t, as time zones differ… but except on New Year’s Even and New Year’s Day, we all wake up in the same year. We all know, most of the time, what country we live in and in general, what is going on around us and have awareness of news from around the world. We call this reality based on what we’ve learned and what we perceive. We all also have biases and ingrained beliefs about our world that affect our reality.

Philosophers have been grappling with what reality actually is for ages. I like to think of us as the self-appointed most intelligent species. We are aren’t we? The thinkers, inventors, and dreamers. Or were. We know so much… and often think so little, it's sometimes hard to tell. Biologists have learned other species have their own brand of intelligence and share more emotions than fear. We also often discover that what we knew, what we believed, was not exactly what we thought to be true or right. Truth and what is correct or right can be very nebulous. Ideas are susceptible to change. Time changes the world, exploration of the ideas change what we think as individuals, societies, and populations.  Still, as long as it can be put into historical perspective or scientific learning or theory, we accept these changes as reality.

Mostly, I think, we all believe reality is just how things are, the world as we see it. For instance, once people believed the Earth was flat. Then they learned the sun and stars didn’t revolve around the Earth. Within the last hundred or so years people have leaned the Earth is an insignificant portion of the universe, and now some are saying that our universe might not be the only one. With theories evolving from quantum physics and the experiments and proposals scientists have made, even a concept of multiple universes has been posed. Thomas J. MacFarlane  suggests our concept of reality is an illusion, something other philosophers have also claimed. Scientists are asking confounding questions about reality such as can the future affect the past?

Yet scientific research and thought aside, reality remains nebulous as each of us, all seven billion plus of us, has different perceptions about what we know and understand our world to be. We each observe and live in a different reality with a somewhat unified grasp of our own community, and a filtered view of the rest of the world through our various news and social mediums. Yet those from places other than are own, often claim the people there are just like those here.

Most of us know we have to eat and sleep to survive. In my corner of the world, people have to present themselves as clean, decent, and hard-wording individuals in order to earn food and a safe place to sleep. We want an education. That is not true around the world.

Some individuals and government believe they have the right to do whatever they want to the natural world (as it is perceived): drive other species extinct, over populate and destroy delicate ecosystems, or destroy other ecosystems for valuable commodities we need right now. We all participate because those commodities have become part of the fabric of our lives.

The problem becomes -- what will we do once these resources are gone? What will our reality be then? Is that all they are, just resources for us to consume? We often learn to our regret, making changes causes changes. The Christian Bible says God gave man domain over the Earth, but he never promised to fix it if we destroyed His creation.

We all operate on a daily (time construction based on observed reality of earth-moon-sun cycle) basis of what happens, what others do, what we expect, and how we react to events. We base most of this on our collective human knowledge of history, investigation, and discovery. Archeologists and geologists study what happened before humans arose, yet their information is often open to interpretation, their knowledge is of the greater events not the daily minutia. We depend for the normalcy of our lives to have the same knowledge of our world tomorrow as it was yesterday, although we all  have different perspectives and knowledge of what happened. This is the information we base reality on, it is what keeps us sane and able to consider our lives normal no matter what our normal is, but whatever it is might be imaginary.

An Eighth Freebit from Acceptance

Eldin faces more trouble in this eighth of ten 6 paragraph Freebits from Acceptance. I face trouble, too, as actually there are seven paragraphs here. Sorry, Ginger. In my defense two are lines of dialogue and it doesn't make sense without all seven. You know, finding six coherent paragraphs out of context can be difficult.

~ * ~

"You should not have come down," Eldin said. "He will kill you."

Eldin watched the gathered nobles push their wives behind them and back away from the king, and he looked for any of King Clement's defenders.

"I know he will kill me, but not how he killed my grandfather, choking the old man with his hands. Or how he killed my father that same night, stabbing him with King Theobald's knife, and then making it look like the son strangled the father, his king." Uilleam's eyes never left Clement. "Your supporters stood guard outside the door, allowing your evil."

"You cannot know that! It's a lie. A lie I say!" Clement scoffed-shouted, but wariness entered his eyes.

Uilleam smiled in acidic certainty. "No lie, King Usurper. I was there, I saw. You wore dark clothing, having had to sneak into the palace. Shall I describe my father's clothing? My grandfather's? Or how the old man fought you until you grabbed a candlestick and struck him? Then you twisted the Signet Regal from his finger, but it wouldn't loosen, so you cut off his finger. In trying to slip it on you dropped it and had to scrabble on the floor and under the bed to find it." Uilleam's voice lowered as he approached King Clement. "Don't back up, royal-boil! Everyone knows me harmless. Look, I'm unarmed, not even an eating knife. You want me dead? Now is a good time to perform the feat."

The king waved his armed guards forward with a hand movement. He stood supremely self-confidant, arrogant in his assurance. "Your loyal man is mine. He will kill you. I have no fear."

With a laugh Uilleam asked, "Will you kill me, Eldin? Will you stab me in the back?" Uilleam's gaze remained on Clement.

~ * ~
Purchase link for Acceptance is in right hand column.

Now go to Ginger's blog and follow the links to other Friday Freebits!

We've Been Recording Information Longer Than We Thought

The other day I listening to some program on TV giving it no attention at all when the narrator started speaking about cavemen leaving messages for others, and that mankind may have been writing far longer than anyone predicted.

It seems that while archeologists, anthropologists, art historians and other scientists have study the images in caves -- the horses, bulls, antlered animals, rhinos, and hand prints of cavemen, none noticed or ignored the 26 symbols of dots, shapes, finger swirls, etc. around and between the large realistic paintings. That is until four years ago when Genevieve von Petzinger of the University of Victoria in British Columbia and her colleague April Nowell, began looking at those shapes and finding the same symbols repeated through many as many as 200 prehistoric sites. According to the new study it pushes the accepted age of the beginning of communication from about 6,000 years ago to an unbelievable 30,000 years ago. (Just saying -- it shows man as a critical and creative thinking creature far further into history than anyone imagined.)

According to an article in The Guardian (paragraph 10 -- site also has an image of the symbols):

Von Petzinger and her Nowell remain cautious, however. "We cannot use the 'L' or 'W' words yet," says Nowell. "This is not writing as we know it or language as we understand it. However, in these caves we are looking at the patterning of symbols, and if we can unravel that, we can get to their meaning."
Other scientists say there is evidence man was an functioning intellectual being before leaving Africa 70,000 to 90,000 years ago. They have even found some of the same symbols in African caves.

Another article, 'Oldest Writing Nearly Deciphered,' I came across at  Discover Communications has information on how our computer technology is helping decipher the code of the earliest samples of writing we have from about 5,000 years ago.

Which just goes to show what comes around goes around, the ancient's symbols whose meaning has been lost in time but started our imprinting of information may be brought back into understanding by our latest creations, now called technology, of symbols.

Bagpipes in America

Coming from Scottish and Irish ancestry, I’ve always loved the sound of bagpipes, especially at parades; and nothing is more poignant for me than the notes of 'Amazing Grace' coming from a bagpipe. Both the ancestry (Home World ~ Aginfeld) and the pipes have played parts in my novels. 

That aside, have you noticed how bagpipes have become part of military in not only Scottish, British, and former British territories   like Canada, but also with U.S. military, police and fire departments? Matter of fact,  many of these have registered tartans with the Scottish Registry, including the U.S. Air Force, Coast Guard, Navy, Army Civilian Affairs, Seebees, although no piper bands are now active military. In my home state, the Michigan State Police registered a plaid, although I don't think they have a band, but perhaps a piper, and the Detroit Metro Police have a plaid for their pipers.

Bagpipes are essentially windpipes with an inflatable bag to maintain the sound. Various carvings and illustrations show they have been used for centuries in various forms from around Europe, the Middle East, and Northern Africa. Their origins remain in the murky past with much speculation: perhaps the Roman armies spread them around their empire, maybe they were invented in Assyria, but there is no definitive proof. Their history becomes better recorded from the seventeenth century on. While Scottish bagpipes are ubiquitous for the instrument, there are other forms such as the uilleann pipes of Ireland and the Spanish gaita. Wikipedia has a list.
Supposedly, the Scottish used the dire sound of the pipes to frighten opposing armies, and records show British pipers played during battles right up and into World War I. However, with the change in weaponry, the pipers became easy targets. Records show they were still used upon occasion in other modern conflicts. Besides creating unity among soldiers in past centuries, if soldiers were marching, pipes would certainly warn anyone on horseback or driving wagons in their path to get off the road and out of the way. They may have served to frighten equines in war, too, forcing anyone mounted to either dismount or concentrate on controlling their horse. 

According to Richard Scott Blair, PhD in his “A Brief History Of Military Piping Abroad And In America,” kilted troopers following bagpipes have been in the U.S. since the Revolutionary War. He gives a excellent account of U.S. military bagpipe history.  It seems all of the active duty bagpipe bands are defunct, but retired military pipers and bands keep the tradition alive.
Despite their military history, I would guess that popularity grew because people liked the sound and the entertainment, and nothing makes a more mournful sound for a memorial or funeral service. Immigrants bring their traditions with them, and that is true of the Irish and Scottish. Especially in the nineteenth century during the famines, they brought their pipes with them and used them for their celebrations and funerals. Because of discrimination, often the only jobs available for these immigrants in port cities like New York and Boston were as firefighters or policemen, both considered dangerous, often dirty work, so when the Scots or Irish lost a member to fighting fire or to a criminal, bagpipes played at the funeral, an association that become entwined with burying heroes. 

Today, many of our soldiers leave the military and begin work with many fire and police departments around the country. Which is yesterday, Memorial Day, so many pipers were present.

Adding Romance, Danger, Intrigue -- the Setting

This month's round-robin is about settings, and which ones stand out in memory. I often find setting understated in contemporary time frames, but perhaps unbeknownst to readers, contemporary settings can be just as difficult to imaginatively depict as any historical or future time. What I find interesting about contemporary settings is they eventually become historicals.

Most of the time the setting is a backdrop for the storyline, but one novelist's settings literal took over, and that was James Michener. I read his Tales of the South Pacific, Caravans, Centennial, and Hawaii. In Hawaii (even the title was about the setting) he began the story when the islands began to develop undersea. He introduceed the Pacific Ocean: "Scores of millions of years before man had risen from the shores of the ocean to perceive its grandeur and to venture forth upon its turbulent waves, this eternal seas existed, larger than any other of the earth's features, vaster than the sister oceans combined, wild, terrifying in its immensity and imperative in its universal role." This is before he begins his description of how the islands themselves formed and how life came to the islands.

Hawaii is still considered one of the must-visit exotic places on earth for many travelers, so it is romantic. Weather, although most often perfect, can be dangerous for these islands, and then their in the volcano at the heart of the islands adding even more danger to paradise. Michener tells of these dangers, too, and then perhaps the most danger comes from inhabitants. He tells the stories of the first Hawaiian's trip across the ocean in out rigger canoes to discover the islands, the discovery of the islands by Europeans, the arrival of missionaries; interesting storylines, but once established, the setting never leaves the reader's mind. Michener's settings are so strong, I can always remember them, but not so much the actual storyline.

Developing the setting for fantasy and science fiction is called world building, and it is a fun endeavor, and I have read many of these world settings that are inspired, intriguing, and dangerous, but the successful ones are most often based on some historical format and bits and pieces added to the storyline here and there, not like the huge chucks Michener so successful used.

For other views on the most inspiring, romantic, or dangerous settings, please visit Lynn Crain 's
blog. Other participating writers are listed below.

* Heidi Thomas* Anne Stenhouse
* Diane Bator
* Geeta Kakade
* Connie Vines 
* Marci Baun 
* Beverley Bateman
* Ginger Simpson
* Margaret Fieland
* Fiona McGier

A Seventh Freebit from Acceptance

Status as a Talent or null is important. In this seventh of ten 6 paragraph Freebits, it is partially explained.

~ * ~

Corbin filled Kissre's wine glass as she sank into the deep chair set before the fire.

"Is it safe to talk here?" he asked.

"Probably not, but I'm a null, and you probably are, too. They would have a hard time reading your mind and from what I've been told, can't read mine at all. Do you intend treachery?"

"No, but is not a pleasant thought that someone could roam through your thoughts and you remain unaware."

"It is illegal. Only a few Talents have a gift that strong. Besides, they save it for special occasions, and for your acute anticipation, they let you know it is going to happen first. Mostly they can feel emotional responses. As long as you keep yourself composed, they don't get much. I understand the envoy arrives soon."

"I am here to plan the accommodations and determine with the Cygnese the protocols for the talks. It is very difficult. They are a wondrously suspicious lot. Every suggestion for the smooth, orderly running of the meeting is cross-examined." Corbin sighed in an elaborate flourish. "I imagine we will debate everything to a standstill."

~ * ~

Now go to Ginger's blog and follow the links to other Friday Freebits!

Dragoons

My newest sci/fi romance about a future soldier, taming a planet, and an aggressive corporate takeover saga, The Nanite Warrior, is about the development of dragoon super soldiers. It takes place on Aginfeld, the world of the previous novel about  the bio-transformation of a potential planet into to a livable world.  A great deal of research went into creating the setting for Home World ~ Aginfeld, and more went into discovering the soldier needed for The Nanite Warrior. Here is some of what I learned about dragoons.

Originally, dragoons were mounted infantry, literally soldiers who rode to the battle only to dismount and fight on foot, aiding the regular foot soldiers. Later they fought both on foot or while mounted. Dragoons have a history going back to the 15th century and incidental evidence of use before then, but at the start of the 16th century, Dragoons became an important military asset along with heavy cavalry (think armored knights and horses running full charge). Dragoons provided an advantage to battle commanders as a fast system to move troops from one battle location to another. As times changed, dragoons became cavalry, and later motorized and armored infantry, such as the U.S. Army's 1st Dragoons who served in Vietnam and Iraq.

Why are they called dragoons? They earned a reputation for swiftness, endurance, and flexibility, highly desired qualities during a war, not only as fighters, but also as couriers. Yet the name derives from early French Dragoons who carried a firearm called a 'dragon,' a short blunderbuss or 'thunder gun.' This weapon was shorter than a regular thunderbuss, so more manageable while riding, and it held a 'spread load,' which made it more likely to hit any nearby target. The 'dragon' also emitted a short flame upon firing.

Dragoons have been part of war engagements in Europe and North America. Here in the United States, during the Revolutionary War, four regiments of light dragoons fought and often acted as escorts and couriers. They also fought in the War of 1812, but were disbanded in 1815. Colonel Henry Dodge led the newly organized First Dragoons to Fort Gibson in 1834 to what is now Oklahoma where they helped explore and map the western frontier, and helped establish Fort Dodge and Fort Des Moines. The U.S. Army established mounted riflemen in1845 and cavalry in 1855. They differences were in weapons carried and how they fought, dragoons being the only ones carrying sabers, rifles, and pistols, and still fighting either on foot or mounted. In 1861, all mounted troops merged under the term cavalry, where they become important for reconnaissance of enemy troop strengths.

During their history dragoons have been known for their flamboyant, colorful attire, which sometimes extended to nonmilitary fashions like longer hair, facial hair, earrings, and elaborate headgear. The world has not finished with dragoons. Today, U.S. Army 2nd Cavalry Regiment, known as the 2nd Dragoons, is an active Stryker infantry and cavalry regiment following their heritage as the 2nd Regiment of Dragoons established in 1836. Currently garrisoned in Germany, they have fought in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Canada has the Royal Canadian Dragoons, the British Columbia Dragoons, and the Saskatchewan Dragoons. There are dragoons guards, regiments, and divisions in Brazil, Chile, Denmark, Finland, France, Norway, Portugal, Sweden, and Switzerland. The Queen's Dragoon Guards serve in England's military. The Royal Scots Dragoon Guards are famous for their pipes and drums band. Talk about flamboyant flourish! The band was "deployed to the Gulf as tank crewman during Op Granby which was part of Desert Storm," proving dragoons while still flamboyant, also remain active in duty and service.

More on Illiteracy for a Literacy Based Industry

 A repost of my topic on the Writer's Vineyard

According to research published last April, the National Institute of Literacy (part of U.S. Department of Education) reported that 19% of students graduating from U.S. schools cannot read. Wow!? Do you find that as disturbing as I do? What is happening to our basic education system? I know public high school teachers in some areas have especially hard and precarious teaching assignments. However, these illiterate students face a difficult future because 63% of prison inmates cannot read. In other words, you can guess where they are likely to land, and other studies show the link between illiteracy and violence. It is not only in the U.S., illiteracy is a global problem. Worldwide 66% of the world’s 774 million illiterate are women. (Emerging in many locations from a barefoot and pregnant philosophy in education, I’m sure.)

All statistics need closer review. For instance, out of the 14% of U.S. adults considered illiterate, does that mean in English only? Can they read in another language? And how many had an undiagnosed learning disability that prevented the individual from reaching reading proficiency? Experience shows this still happens. This statistic, while considerable, is low compared to a hundred years ago, or even fifty years ago, but it seems to have reached a plateau, changing very little over the last decade. This means these people cannot read tax forms, fill out employment forms, or be sure what their prescription label states. What these numbers do not show is that as of 2011, 50% of U.S. citizens read below the eighth grade level. Wondering about your book's low sales rates?

It is proven that parents influence a child’s literacy: literate parents have literate children, probably by setting good examples and standards. I don’t have the answer, and I know libraries and schools are trying to address the problem, but it is not enough. If we envision a better future, along with all today’s and tomorrow’s other problems, we need solutions to improve literacy.

A Sixth Freebit from Acceptance

Known traitor Eldin Innes has discovered the country of his new allegiance is a far fall from the heights he sought in this sixth of ten Freebits from Acceptance.

~ * ~

From his attic window in his Lord's apartment, Eldin looked down on Bhatar Court, Pertelon's King Clement's primary residence. It was raining again and the adjacent tower spires were obscured in a gray mist. It seemed like it always rained here. The dismal aspect was reflected in the room behind him. As the least of King Clement's wards, Aristo Uilleam Leavold's lodgings reflected his position at court.

"It's bad out," his new Master said, bounding into the room.

Without turning around to look at the young man, Eldin answered. "It certainly is."

From this height, on a clear day, he could make the thrusting mounds on the watery horizon that signified Kaereya. He refused to think about living there. For his circumstances he had only himself to blame. In trying to improve his life, he had destroyed it. His plans, his stratagems to show his ability, all failed. Now he was the spy-servant probable assassin for his chosen king—to this irrelevant boy.

"Cheer up, Eldin. You need not go out in it." Uilleam was cold and wet. He patted Eldin on the shoulder. His damp fingers left moist stains on the silk fabric that would stain.

Uilleam stood next to him, a silly grin covering his face. Eldin regarded his charge. Although older than King Warrick of Kaereya, Aristo Uilleam seemed boyish, a brown-haired young man with royal blood, tall and well made, but not much else; a cuckoo among the court's egrets. The grandson of the king before Clement, Uilleam provoked few concerns in Clement. The boy seldom drew anyone's interest except for the sports of baiting and ridicule.

~ * ~
Purchase link for Acceptance is on column to the right.

Now go to Ginger's blog and follow the links to other Friday Freebits!