Adam Oster's Blog, page 81

As an American, it is Your Civic Duty!

This past weekend I became aware that I am currently included in a reader’s choice poll for being “Favorite Local Author” and for Buddy to be “Best Local Book Released in the Last Year“.  Now, whether or not I was included in the original list or added after the fact by one of my fans (friends) is unimportant, what is important is that I’m on there, because, well, it feels like a small amount of validation (which I probably should already feel from having my book read by folks the world over).

Now, I hold no real hopes of winning these categories.  In one I’m up against Michael Perry, who just so happens to be a New York Times bestseller (and has his own wikipedia page!)  In the other I’m up against Bruce Taylor, who, although he doesn’t have a wikipedia page, does happened to hold the title of Poet Laureate for our fine city last year (meaning that he holds a fair amount of support from the community, I would assume).  He also happened to have been one of my professors for a class back in the day.  I don’t know if that means anything, but, well, he’s probably got a bit more steam behind him than me and Buddy.

All the same, I’m holding to the idea that democrazy works, and that Buddy and I truly deserve to have our names in the hallowed halls of the Chippewa Valley’s Reader’s Choice Poll winner’s circle.  I have no clue what this would actually mean. . . I mean, restaurants and what not get a sticker to put in their window. . . I hope I do too!  But what it does mean is that I will officially own the Chippewa Valley (right?)  I’m sure there’s some sort of special powers that are awarded those who attain status of RCP winner.

So, go, do your civic duty and vote to put me and Buddy in the winner’s seat!

While you’re at it, looking for something to while away the time on your Monday afternoon, head off to the A Call to ARMS Contest and get yourself entered for a chance to win a signed copy of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO.

Don’t forget, ebook copies of the book are available for 99 cents through the rest of the week, and there’s now paperback copies available as well!

Have a good one!

A Call to ARMS (All Reviews Mean Something)

Alright, I’ve officially had it.  Although I’ve never been too concerned with making people post reviews on my books or anything, too many of my author friends have been getting a little too fresh with me about how their review numbers are growing.

It’s time for battle!

I know many of you have already read the book and have told me countless wonderful things about your experiences with it.  I heartily appreciate it, but now I’m asking for something more.  Reviews!  Go to amazon, here’s a link to make it even easier for you and sharpen your sword-like fingers to type away those evil other authors.  Join my army and show them what we’re made of.

What?  You’re saying that men shouldn’t go into battle without any incentive?

Fine, here’s some incentive.  For the next week, the ebook of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO is on sale for a mere $.99.  That’s right, if you haven’t had the chance to pick up this book yet, now’s the time.  (amazon’s updating slowly, but the price should update sometime this afternoon)

Oh, you don’t have one of those fancy digital weapons which other men call ereaders?  Fine, guess what, THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO is now available in paperback as well.  $9.50 will equip you properly with this ancient weapon of choice.

What? You’re saying that’s not nearly enough incentive?  Fine, I’ve got your incentive right here, men.  A contest!

Yep, for the next week, as we battle the hordes of authors who flaunt their reviews in our faces, I’m willing to put my own money where my mouth is.  So, each person who puts a review out on Amazon will be entered into a random drawing for a signed paperback edition of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO.  Should I feel dirty for having a giveaway for reviews?  Maybe, but this is war!

All you have to do to get your name entered in this competition is put your review out on Amazon and head out to the facebook event page writing a little note stating you’ve done so. If you’re shy, I’ll also accept e-mails.  If you’ve already put a review out there, you can still enter the drawing.  I’m not picky.

Conditions are minimal.  I don’t care what you put out there for a review.  It can be a 1 star entry stating you hated the piss out of it.  It can be a 5 star review expounding on how it changed you life.  It can be a 3 star review discussing how your cat sleeps all day and you want it to start an exercise regimen to get rid of that excess flab growing around it’s posterior.  I don’t care!

These other authors claim amazon reviews are the key to sales.  To them I say, PAH!  Sales are the key to Amazon reviews!  (wait. . . what?)

I’m not begging men, I’m simply calling you to do your duty as a countryman and a patriot!  Let’s show those suckers that we won’t go down without a fight!

What a Difference an Edit Makes (a look at different drafts of Buddy Hero)

I used Grammarly to grammar check this post because the chimps who write my books got sick of correcting my yours, theirs, and its.

What’s that? That’s a mighty odd way for me to start a post, isn’t it? Oh yeah, so, the good folks over at Grammarly.com asked if they could sponsor my next post about writing. . . and since I had a mighty good one in the works (this one) specifically about editing, I thought, why the heck not.

I used their services for the first time whilst writing this post. I believe I’ll be doing a bit more of a review on their product in an upcoming post, but for now, why don’t you click on over there and tell them you love me. . . perhaps they’ll give me more money?

Anyway, so, today I thought I’d take a look at the wonderful world of editing. It’s the bane of every writer’s existence. Yet, it’s also the most important piece of the writing puzzle. It is, after all, what turned some twilight fan fiction into the mind-bendingly popular 50 Shades of Grey (of course, from what I hear it could have used a heckuva lot more editing. . .).

For those who have been reading on here for a while, you’ll know of my battles in editing THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO. After I had completed the first draft of the book, I was so eager to find someone who would hand me Scrooge McDuck style bags of cash, that I was willing to sell out to whatever was the next big thing, especially after I found out that no one wants to buy superhero books. That meant that several major changes had to be put into place before I put out the initial self-published edition. There was even a young adult version. . . yeah, I was that ready to sell out.

But, finally, I realized I wanted to do things on my own terms and keep true to my vision of Buddy and finally released the first edition of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO. After hearing the book read aloud by someone else, I immediately pulled it off the virtual shelves and slowly got to work on yet another massive edit, but this one dedicated to returning to the original vision for the book.

Old Buddy vs. New Buddy. . . already a lot shinier just at the cover!

The basic story is mostly the same, but there were some major changes to, well, pretty much everything. Characterization was strengthened, dialogue was tightened, and use of action was focused on, rather than explanation.

I thought it might be fun to take a look at some passages from the old version of the book and see what they ended up as in the final version. I hope you enjoy this peek into the editing process.

Now, there are some incredibly major differences that occur right off the bat between the two versions. The opening prologue in the version 1.0 was extended and officially became the opening to chapter 1 in 2.0. In fact, we get a much more epic opening to the book than the rather cryptic prologue.

A couple of examples:

1.0: “The air burns around me with its intense heat, reflecting my emotions as I burn with violent anger.”

2.0: “I close my eyes and listen to the roaring wind around my frame, feeling the burning air as it hits my body. A scent fills my nostrils. The scent of the damned.”

 

1.0: “The ground shall quake with my return. The world shall tremble.”

2.0: “The world reacts violently to my presence, as if it knows what destruction my return entails.”

These phrases are barely recognizable as being related, and are purely the result of enhanced characterization and modifying the focus of the statement.

In chapter 1, we get to meet Buddy and his sister. This entire chapter was rather bulky in the original version, but with some tweaking becomes one of the best bits in the book of getting to learn about whom Buddy is.

1.0: “Buddy had never been very good at mornings. Most people seemed to get better at accepting each new day as they got older. Buddy, on the other hand, dreaded each coming day more and more with every year added onto his life.”

2.0: “Buddy had a long-standing feud with mornings.”

 

1.0: “Morning, Buddy,” Maggie said. “That was quite the bender you were on last night. That’s the first time I’ve sent you back here before sunset.”

2.0: ““Hey Buddy,” Maggie said. She used her shoulder to turn on the light. The sudden shift in brightness caused Buddy to groan in pain and roll over to hide from the day. “Ah, come on kid, it’s a new day. Gotta wake up.”

Buddy groaned again.

Maggie placed his breakfast on the floor and sat down next to her brother. He tightened his cotton cocoon around himself, pulling his head under the sleeping bag as he did so.”

1.0: “The scene up front was not what he had expected. In fact, although not one thing was in its proper place, Buddy could tell something was missing. Police tape.”

2.0: “Buddy pushed open the swinging door and found a sight much different from what he had expected. The bar still ran the length of the wall farthest from the door. The red swiveling bar stools were still in their place along it. The rest of the restaurant, however, looked as though it had been tossed on its side by some unseen resident of a nearby beanstalk.

Every single one of the circular chest-high tables that littered the main floor were knocked to their side, many were irreparably damaged. Most of the glassware behind the bar had also made its way to the floor, few looking as though they would ever hold one of Buddy’s favorite beverages again.

Buddy happily noticed that most of the liquor bottles still appeared in good condition. He congratulated himself for being the one who had purchased the industrial strength bottle display, which had contraptions in place to hold each bottle individually.”

As you can see, some subtle changes in the thought behind the section can drastically change the tone of the message. Sometimes it would end up meaning more was written. More often than not, however, it would mean whole sections would be taken out. In chapter 1 alone, there were several descriptive pieces removed because I determined it to be well enough explained later in the novel.

All in all, the second edition of the novel is a far cry from the first, and I believe that it is so in a remarkably good way. The character of Kid Zero was completely revamped from being something of an annoyance to one of the best bits of comedic relief through the story. . . as well as being set up to be quite a tragic figure in future books. And there’s so much more I could say about the edit’s changes, but many of them would have the possibility of spoiling the ending.

So, I’ve come to terms with the editing process, and, in fact, have found myself somewhat enjoying it. It gives me the chance to ensure I included all of the plans I had in place for the book when I started. . . and now that my focus isn’t on getting McDuck rich (you know. . . like every other writer. . . ?) I find it that much easier to focus on telling the stories I want to tell.

What about you guys? If you write, how do you edit? Or do you?

 

Don’t Steal my Book! (or do, I’m fairly non-committal on the subject)

Over the years I’ve spent as an author trying to make my way in the world of publishing, I’ve spent quite a lot of time trying to keep up on the current topics being discussed by those in the publishing industry.  The themes tend to stay pretty much the same year in and year out, things like, why aren’t people buying books?  here’s why ebooks need to be as expensive if not more expensive than paper! and ohh, is the next new genre, everyone should be writing it. . . which is always immediately followed by a bevy of literary agents stating, no longer accepting .

The publishing industry, as well as the artistic industries in general, are rather fickle.  People fight constantly over what they believe to be important, what needs to be in a story, and, well, pretty much every single topic applicable to the industry at large.

But there is one topic that seems to have a majority consensus among the writing populace, and that has to do with theft of their work.

Now, I get it, I wrote something, spent a ton of time not only crafting that piece but editing it to a fine sheen, not to mention the amount of time I spent honing my craft and financing whatever needed to be financed to get the book out the door.  I agree that, should the work warrant it, I deserve to be compensated for that time.  I feel no true qualms about charging for my books under those circumstances.  I believe it is worth something and have set a price for it accordingly.

But. . . this subject, more than any other subject in the publishing industry, keeps coming up time and time again, under different premises, but the conclusion is the same, DON’T STEAL MY BOOK!.

We saw a very similar issue back when the music industry began going through the digital revolution.  And, this really isn’t anything new.  Not only did we see it in music dating back well before the digital age (the RIAA’s battle against cassette tapes comes to mind), but books as well.  I remember a rather high profile story about a group in China that was writing and publishing their own Harry Potter books, and making a nice little mint off of it as well, if memory serves.

Like I said, I get it, it sucks . . . but the point here is, it happens and it’s nothing new.

More recently, several fellow authors have been bringing similar topics to my attention directly.  One of the bigger ones is a new petition against Amazon regarding the 7-day return policy for ebooks.  Yep, that’s right, just like that cute outfit you can’t afford, you can return your book after you use it, as long as it’s within a given time frame.  Of course, in this situation, the price in question, on the higher end of the average, is around ten bucks, and, no matter what you do to that book, it’s coming back in pristine condition.

So, in this specific situation, you’re stealing an experience.  I mean, this comes down to something more similar to a movie rental, without any actual cost involved. Sure, there’s the late fee involved if you don’t return it on time. . . but in that situation, you’re not actually out any more money than you would have been if you were to purchase it in the first place, unlike the 30 dollars Blockbuster always wanted to charge me if I didn’t return a movie at all. . . or the 3 they would charge me if I came a day late.  Okay, on second thought. . . it’s more like a library.

You’re stealing an experience, a moment in time with the creation of an author, just like readers have been doing for ages in the much more happily recognized realm of the library (although I’ve heard more than enough stories of authors complaining about how libraries screw them out of sales as well).

I’m of the opinion that most of these returns are actually due to people unintentionally making purchases, due to how simple it is to buy an ebook on Amazon without even trying.  But, assuming there are people trying to game the system, well, good for them, I guess.  I believe that I’m deserved money for my work, but if you read my book and feel differently, that’s on you, I guess.  I’m not exactly in the service industry working for tips, by any means, but I’m also not going to lose any sleep over it.  Heck, money’s tight.  I get it.  I get many of my books for free nowadays as well, since other authors want me to review them.  Sure, they’re getting some sort of compensation from me, but whatever.

Heck, my books are all DRM free as well.  That means if you buy yourself a copy of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO (or any of my future books, as long as I have the power to choose), you can ship that puppy off to whomever you want.  In fact, I urge you to do so.  Share the thing.  That’s the only way people are ever going to find out that I have a book out there anyways, is if you tell them about it.

I see it as being no different than a hardbound book.  Books are meant to be shared.  I just hope mine are ones that you consider good enough to do so with.

The other larger topic I’ve been hearing a lot about lately, however, is a bit different.  Here’s a link to a letter from the author.  Simply put, an author wrote a series of books, a publisher saw them, read them, rejected them, and then later put out some books that appear to be incredibly similar with almost the exact same title.

That is, what we call in the business, a d*ck move.  Sure, it’s possible it was all coincidence.  Many of the items of similar nature discussed in this letter would be the exact same things anyone would write about when dealing with the subject of time travel for kids.  But, I think we can fairly safely assume that someone saw a great idea (with possibly a not so great implementation of the idea) and came up with a way to make some money off it, without dealing with the originating creator.

Very similar to the above talked about story of the Chinese Harry Potter, this happens.  It’s really crappy when a publisher as large and respected(possibly?) as Harper Collins does it, but more than likely it was the act of several smaller cogs than it was anyone in power.

But it got me thinking about how I would deal if I were in a similar situation.  First of all. . . seeing as Buddy Hero is mostly an homage to comic books, there’s plenty that could be said for people being pissed about me stealing their work.  In fact, the main villain in the first book shares an awful lot of similarities to the villain Gog from DC’s The Kingdom series.  And I guess that’s where my thought path starts going.  The ideas may be similar, but the implementation is incredibly different (in my opinion).

Take, for example, something I think we can all be aware of, the movies Deep Impact and Armageddon.  These movies both came out in the same summer, both are basically the same exact idea, but they are incredibly different movies.  Implementation is the key point here.  So, if I were to be pissed that someone stole my idea, the only reason I can truly be pissed is that they did so more effectively than I did.  DC does not currently care that I have a character similar to Gog in my novel.  Why should they?  They have no clue about it.  But if I were to start to become some sort of New York Times bestseller, perhaps their tune would change.

There is a fine line between protecting one’s intellectual property and allowing the market to have competition.  The linked to article may be crossing the line into theft, I don’t know, I haven’t read either series.  But what I do know is that I’m tired of the publishing industry being so pissed about theft.  Theft is going to happen, it’s been happening since the dawn of time.  I just hope that we won’t find books in the same situation as movies where we have 15 screens of “don’t steal” messages before we get to the 30 advertisements for other movies.

Books should be above all that.  Books are, after all, entirely about the experience.  I beg you not to steal the experience I have created.  It is only 3 bucks after all.  But if you do, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell your friends about it?

Or. . . leave a review on Amazon.  My friends keep telling me I should work on getting more reviews out there.

Saying Goodbye

This past week marked the final days of a very special friend and family member, Chuck Tomkovick.  Although I didn’t know him nearly as much as I had wished, I still feel as though the time I spent with him while he was still around was something rather special.

He was the kind of guy who always had a smile on his face.  In fact, the last time I saw him, while he was looking rather ragged from the bouts of chemotherapy, as well as from just battling the rages of the cancer that was attacking his brain, I saw nothing but the bright cheery face you see here.

I had long wondered if he had just mastered the perfect game face, never wanting to show his inner most emotions.  After attending his memorial service yesterday and hearing from people who knew him much better than I did, I can rest assured that he was just that cheerful of a guy.

And the notes that rang out from this group of fellow friends and family members continued to chime that what I knew of this man was all entirely genuine, because that’s who he was, genuine.

Although many times that we actually found ourselves together, you could believe that we exchanged nothing more than pleasantries, even those moments felt as though he was interested in nothing more than knowing precisely how I was doing, as he shot that ever-present smile even brighter in my direction.  He was a man who was excited about life, even up until the very end, and wanted to share that excitement with everyone.

My children knew him even less than I did, considering they were more prone to playing with their cousins during family functions than they were to hang out in the grown-chat-areas.  Of course, Chuck was frequently playing with his son as well, so maybe they did know him better than I thought. . . all the same, there was an interesting moment that I shared with my daughter as I told her we were going to Chuck’s funeral.

I had been under the impression that my wife had told her about Chuck’s passing, never once actually thinking about broaching the subject myself.  My daughter has been very interested in the subject of death for some time now, finding it difficult to understand the idea that someone could be gone for forever.  We visit my grandfather’s grave somewhat often, since it rests just down the road from our home, and that almost always causes conversations about why he is under the ground.  She talks to her mother often about my wife’s grandparents, who have all passed on, frequently talking about how sad it is that they are gone and that she never got to meet them.

So, when I arrived at daycare yesterday dressed in my suit, she looked puzzled, asking why I would be so well dressed.  When I said we were going to a funeral, she looked even more confused.

We removed ourselves from her friends slightly and she sat on my knee as I reminded her who Chuck was and told her of his death.  She first asked the requisite, “why did he die?” to which she knew the answer but follows her kneejerk reaction of asking why about anything that hits her by surprise.  But then she asked why we would be going to his funeral.

This caused me to pause for a moment, as, well, I didn’t really have an immediate answer.

But then I thought about Chuck and reminded her of the kind of guy he was, to which she immediately responded with how sad that it was that he was gone.  And then we talked about what it’s like when other people we love are gone, about how we react when her grandparents head back home to South Carolina, or even when mommy and daddy leave for a few days (which has only happened a couple of times in her life).  She responded with notes of how sad it is when those times happen and that she’ll miss them, and want to give them hugs and kisses and all sorts of other love.

Using this base, we then talked about how to react when someone goes away before we have the ability to give them hugs and kisses and whatnot.  We talked about how we could be sad about their leaving, which we both agreed would happen, but that it can’t be that way always.

She then realized that we were saying goodbye to Chuck by showing him love in the only way we had available.  And suddenly the idea of Chuck’s funeral wasn’t as sad.  Knowing that Chuck was a happy guy who was always positively looking toward the future, we talked about how important it was to gather with other people who loved Chuck and remember him together, in an effort to say goodbye.

She still admitted it was sad, and wanted to ensure she gave big hugs to Chuck’s immediate family members, but she also felt a bit happier about the experience than she did when I first announced to her what our evening plans were.  And, of course, once we got there and she saw all of her cousins and family members, most of that was forgotten and she went on to have a great day.

Which is, of course, exactly what I believe Chuck would have wanted her to do.

So, my daughter, who has been questioning the concept of death for quite some time now, has finally seen first hand how people react to it. . . and, well, her interest waned in the subject.  But, I believe the concept is slightly more resolved in her mind.  And even if it isn’t, she did get her chance to say goodbye to a man that I believe touched the hearts of everyone he met.

Good bye, Chuck.

Have a good one.

Adventures with Ollie

One of the greatest things about being a father is the fact that you have the opportunity to relive your own childhood in an attempt to introduce your children to all of the things you used to love as a child.  As has been seen here previously, I do this a lot.  From superheroes to Star Wars, my kids have experienced a lot of what I enjoyed as a child (which just so happens to be things I still enjoy today).

Of course, one of the things I enjoyed most of all as a child was the outdoors.  I would take every moment I could to be outside.  As a young buck growing up in the Southeastern United States, there was plenty to do outdoors, and plenty of time to do it.  We lived in a little suburban community for most of my childhood, but that area butted right up next to plenty of wooded areas.  I would spent days upon days exploring these woods, finding new areas to hide, building hideouts, and overall just getting a good grasp of what the world my have hiding around me.

As I get older, I find the need to instill this sense of exploration onto my children.  The immediate area we live in may be mostly city-scape (albeit small-town America city-scape), but the amount of parks and forestation that still abounds is rather amazing, although no where near as rural-feeling as my hometown.

This weekend, during naptime, I took my daughter off on a little fishing trip here in town.  Eau Claire has a fantastic amount of waterways in which to fish, and I’m always hunting for a new spot in which to hide out and hope to find a cache of swimmers.  So, I took her exploring. The area we fished in this weekend wasn’t any place new for me, I’ve gone to this spot several times, however, it was new for her.

But the important part of it wasn’t as much the newness of it all as it was the fact that it took a great deal of climbing to get to.  As we made our way down the steep, rock-covered hill (well, I may have had to carry her a fair portion of the way), she kept asking me if we were going to go into the woods. . . to which I had to assure her that the trees that surrounded us on every side were, in fact, the woods themselves.  We had to crawl through fallen trees and walk through a bit of water before we finally made it to my little hidden spot, a beach under a bridge which was not only secluded, but surrounded on all sides by barriers, meaning that we had a spot all to ourselves in which she could run around freely without me being afraid of where she might go.

As we sat on the riverbank, finding very little for fish, we played in nature, enjoying each other’s company as we let the worms crawl around our fingers, looked at bugs, and threw sticks and stones into the water.  When we would actually catch a fish (of which our final haul was only two that were worth bringing home with us), she would name them and we’d look them over, examining all of the things that made them different from other fish.  Her fish identification is getting pretty darn good as well, seeing as she was able to identify the blue gill before I even had it off the hook.

I love that my children’s interest in the world around them continues to grow.  We yearly go hunting for morel mushrooms in some of the nearby forests, and my children run through the tall grass, seeing what types of wildlife they can kick up as they go.  And water. . . they both love to just sit and stare at the water, talking to me about what sorts of secrets may hide below.

And, of course, it’s even more exciting when, after a long day of fishing, we can go home and cook up our catch and taste the fruits of our labor on that same day.

The world is such an amazing and wonderful place, and I’m happy to make the time once again to explore it myself, but it’s even more fun to do so with my children, getting to see everything fresh again.

My daughter likes to call these little excursions our adventure dates.  And I hope to find the time to take as many a possible before her interests wane and she gets sucked into being behind a computer screen at all times.

Anyways, I’ve got work to do behind one of those same computer screens.  I hope you all had a great weekend, and have a good week.

Working for the Weekend

I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  I’m a hard worker, and I feel incredibly blessed to be gainfully employed and all of that. . . however, I also have to admit that I often feel rather guilty about the fact that I do, in fact, work for the weekend.

I’m not a huge fan of my job.  I don’t receive much for feelings of accomplishment during my times spent doing things for my employer.  It is nothing more than the source of all of my financial wealth. . . It allows me to continue living.

The problem is, of course, that during the 40 hours a week that I spend there, I feel as if living is put on hold.  I’m not complaining.

I am, however, stating that this is a sad state of affairs.  There are officially 40 hours of every week that basically don’t exist in my life.  40 hours of each week are spent with me constantly checking the clock wishing that time were going by faster. . . although I also sometimes wish time would go by slower during that same time so I could actually complete the overwhelming pile of tasks I need to complete during a workday.

In other words, during my work day I do something I had long stated I would never do. . . I find myself wishing that time would go faster, effectively shortening my life.  I love life, I love all the things that come with it (except my job), and the one thing that I never want to wish for is less of it.

And then the weekend finally comes. . . It’s a glorious time. . . but I find my mind still stuck in the mindset of the work week. . . at least at first.  It takes me quite a bit of time to adjust to the weekend, remembering that these are the mornings that I enjoy, getting to sit around with my kids and watch a couple of cartoons before heading off onto our adventures.

I need to stop working for the weekend.  I need to find something within my occupational life that I enjoy enough that I don’t get in that mindset any longer, because it is causing me to lose out (somewhat) on the times that I want to enjoy.

I’m still not certain how to do it, but I am sitting here right now, working on getting my brain ready for the weekend that will be here in a matter of hours. . . and hoping I can pull out that Slip N Slide again. . .

 

Have a good one!

NEWSFLASH: Sweetest Little Boy on the Planet Turns 2!

You may think you recognize this photo from a recent post regarding my daughter’s 4th birthday.  I have to admit, I had to go back and look at that post and make sure I hadn’t posted the wrong photo there.  But, nope, it just turns out that photos of me sleeping whilst my newborn children sleep on top of me is just something that happens.

And two years ago today, this photo to the right was taken as I was enjoying a short-lived reprieve from consciousness, enjoying the warmth of my newborn baby boy.

It was a happy moment.

The following few months were rather difficult for me, however.  As a child I dreamed of having a younger brother to play with.  When expecting my first child (as well as my second), I dreamed of the idea of having a little boy to live out those dreams of my youth.  However, this little guy, for the first few months of his life, really wanted nothing to do with me.

I remember many long nights having the kid scream at me whilst I kept him from his mother so she could get some rest.  He wanted nothing more than to nuzzle his giver of life, and I was not even a close second.

As time went on, things got better between him and I, and now as he wakes up in the morning, the first thing I hear coming from his room is his incredibly loud shouts of “Daddy! Daddy!” as he anxiously awaits me to get him out of his crib.  When I walk into that room in order to free him from his prison, he just greets me with a giant smile.  No words, just teeth.

This kid is awesome, and although I had to do a bit more to earn his love, unlike with his sister who has always been a fan of Dad, I find it very hard to be separated from him.  Although I see more of his mother in him than I see of myself, people constantly refer to him as my Mini-Me.  I like that.  His sister is so obviously the product of their mother that it’s nice to have one kid that can be recognized as mine, even if I find the similarities to be much smaller than I would like. . . sure, he’s cuter as a product of my wife, but seriously, I need a mini-me.

This morning, as I walked into his room, I received the same toothy grin as always.  However, when I asked him what day today was, he responded quickly and excitedly with “Do-nah’s Bird-day!”  The smile on his face as I broke into a rendition of the Happy Birthday Song was wonderful.  This kid has been so excited about finally reaching his special day that you could see that he felt his life was complete.

My son is two. . . and he’s just about the coolest little boy I could ask for.

Happy Birthday Jonah!

Hoodoo Voodoo and Me

There are so many different religions in this world, so many different theories regarding how it all began, or, more importantly, how we relate to the land we live on.

Growing up in the Southeast of the US, I found myself surrounded by so many different aspects of these cultures that grow out of these beliefs, most of which have pretty strong roots in African culture.

One of the things I’ve found most interesting about these cultural roots as I’ve learned more about the cultures that I grew up around is that so much of these items that derive from such strong spiritual concepts, have merely become a piece of the tradition, the original reasons long since forgotten by most.

On of my favorites is the fact that most porches is the Southeastern US have blue ceilings.  The reason for this today now comes down to tradition.  You know, my parents painted their porch blue, their parents did the same, and so on.  However, the reason this all started was due to a fear of the Haint, or restless spirits of the dead.  The blue was believed to keep them away from entering the home.  If I remember correctly, it had something to do with the fact that the spirits would be confused that the ceiling was the same color as the sky and get stuck or some other such thing.

Another one of my favorites, merely because I think the look is much more fun, is the above pictured bottle tree.  Similar to the porch ceilings, these trees were created as a way of dealing with evil spirits.  However, much more interestingly is how they were dealt with.  The bottles would be placed on the tree, as pictured, with the thought that the evil spirits would get caught inside of them.  Once the spirits were captured, the bottles would be corked and thrown into the sea, effectively removing evil spirits from the area and making the spiritual region much safer.

Of course. . . I’m not sure what the folks who found the bottles washing up on shore thought as they opened them and released the spirits into their own area. . . but I guess that’s not of any concern.

But the idea is fantastic.  Items like this truly derived as an amalgam of African and European religious cultures and made something not only very interesting, but also something that would color the world in which these folks lived.  Bottle trees are still thriving around the continent today, although I’m certain they are intended to serve a much more aesthetic purpose than their ancestors.  This piece of culture that served a purpose which the originators believed to be of utmost importance, has morphed into something very different, an art piece that people wish to have displayed on their lawn.  Not nearly as beautiful of a concept, but a lovely homage all the same.

When you start to look into the items more directly related to Hoodoo and Voodoo you see even more interesting items begin to crop up.  These are very African-rooted belief systems (although truly only found within the States), but due to heavy Catholic influences deriving from contact with the Europeans, these belief systems have become their own amalgam, capturing the more nature-derive spiritual power-systems that they originated from and adding in the Christian influences of God and the devil.

In fact, if one were to try to separate the Christian influences from Hoodoo or Voodoo, I don’t believe you’ve have much that would be recognizable to us today left, outside of things such as voodoo dolls. . . or of what I truly wish to talk about here.

Zombies. . . the earliest depictions of zombies actually come from Voodoo, although these zombies were much more similar to the resurrected dead that we connect with necromancers today, but the word zombie itself is a voodoo word.

You can’t take a look at modern popular culture today without quickly coming across some sort of mention of zombies.  Heck, often when seeing someone who is incredibly tired or not focusing on a task at hand, we refer to them as a zombie.  What I find most interesting about this inclusion into our modern vernacular is the fact that both Hoodoo and Voodoo have traditionally been shunned concepts, things that were not even to be talked about among “sophisticated” folks.  Yet, the culture of Voodoo has become so ingrained in our world that I can’t imagine anyone in Western culture not immediately being able to picture a zombie just upon hearing the word.

I often find concern regarding the fact that the cultures of the world are disappearing, due to things like the internet shrinking the distance between cultures. . . however, I think instead we are finding ourselves in a situation more where our cultures are melding.  New items from across the globe are starting to become common in our very homes.  Anime, a type of animation/art coming form Japan, is something that became very common in the States starting in the 80′s, so it’s nothing too surprising.  Heck, the internet was not quite commonplace at that point either.  However. . . just down the road from me (okay, just looking today I see that it has been moved slightly for the past couple years, but still in town, only a couple miles away), here in “how do you pronounce that town’s name” Wisconsin we have a yearly Anime Convention, considered one of the largest in the region.  One of my nieces is currently becoming quite adept at drawing in the style.  It is officially a part of our culture now.

And it’s amazing.  No longer do we have to travel the globe to learn about new cultures (although I highly recommend it).  We can find it right here in our own back yards.

And it’s pretty darn cool.

 

Have a good one!

Apocalypse When?

I’ve always found myself very interested in the idea of a global catastrophe, something in which the majority of humanity has disappeared and the few people left are stuck struggling to survive with barely even the basic necessities.  It’s why I’ve always enjoyed the zombie genre.

Perhaps it’s to do with my social awkwardness in that I feel that if there were fewer people around, I would be more open to engaging with the few folks that actually managed to survive (and not, you know, try to kill me or something).  It’s probably even more likely due to the fact that subsistence living seems much more favorable to me than working a 9-5 behind a desk. . . of course, I’m sure I’d say differently were I in the other situation.

Anyways, when I became aware of a show on The Discovery Network that explored that very concept, I was immediately intrigued.  Since it’s on Netflix Instant Watch, it became a must-watch for me. . . although, since it’s reality television, I definitely had my hesitations.

The show is called The Colony, and the basic concept is similar to shows like Survivor, in that you put a bunch of people into a barely habitable situation and see how they do.  However, as opposed to shows like Survivor, there’s no real gimmicks, this is a show that describes itself as an experiment to see how real people would react in a situation where the world has gone nuts.

I’m nearing completion of the second season as we speak and I have to say that I’ve been enjoying the show so far.  Sure, they focus a little more on the personal drama than I would care for, however, lack of food and sleep as well as being on constant guard against external attacks would probably cause quite a bit of interpersonal strife.  The thing I’ve been really getting into is how these people (who are described as being an average cross-section of Americans) really pull together some incredibly amazing gadgets and such in order to make their lives slightly more like home.

Watching this show has gotten me thinking more about my own abilities, with regard to how I would fare in a situation such as these.  Many of these folks are experienced in a variety of fields, as well as having some incredibly random life experiences that end up lending a hand to their predicament.  When I watch these folks creating solar powered tricycles, or windmills, or gassifier engines. . . I can’t help but think I would be severely lacking in the engineering piece of the survival pie.

But practical experience seems to be only a portion of the question.  As I watch further, I see people who’s experiences don’t lend well to the tasks they are required to do, doing much more than they thought were possible merely because it is what was required of them to live.

And that’s where the really interesting piece comes in.  These people aren’t just surviving, they’re actually, in many ways, bettering themselves.  They are adapting to their situation quickly.  Sure, in many ways, at least at the beginning, they are simply reacting to the situations at hand, but as time goes on, they actually begin becoming proactive and thinking about their needs for the future, and. . . well, doing some things that they had never tried before to great success (with some added failures as well).

This show has gotten me thinking further about the human condition, as well as giving me some ideas for some future stories.  And. . . you know, thinking about the kind of stuff I should start learning in order to be prepared when those zombies do attack.

Anyways, time to do some writing.  Have a good one!