B. James Wilson's Blog, page 2

From The Depths of The Melbourne Tunnel

I have to start doing a better job of keeping a record of my life here at Croton Manner. Based on life’s priorities, my writing is often interrupted by events outside the tunnel. The tunnel is that cerebral space where I work each day. It is often dark, only lit one step at a time. Though I occasionally pass by brightly lit platforms of inspiration, my peripheral vision is non-existent. The only way I know that the outside world exists is by scheduled stops when I pop my head up for daylight, or when disturbing sounds from outside the tunnel draw me to the surface. That’s the more frequent mode of interruption. There have been plenty through the month of June, but since I didn’t make a note of them, I don’t remember what they were as I’m writing this report.

This month I’ve made a change in the theme for Castaways Point, my daily devotional blog. For the past year or more, I have been following a theme entitled, The Word. It is a Bible reading from which I extract a single word and begin the blog with a definition. From there, a focal passage of scripture, a commentary, or analysis of the message, and then a prayer in closing. The new theme is based on prayers found in scripture, beginning with Genesis and following through the whole Bible. I’m currently in Deuteronomy.

Also this month, I finished the Beta draft of the second book in the Bible Book Club series. It’s called “Patriarch”. It’s a story of Abraham. Not the whole story of Abraham, that would take volumes to tell. This is a story about Abraham’s message of faith as it relates to our world today. While Patriarch is in Beta, I’m working on the second book of the Gray Empire series entitled, The Rift. This is the story of how a great treasure was stolen by the Templars from the Knights of The Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and how Rick Townsend and his team must find and recover that treasure in order to save the world from an evil force that threatens to destroy mankind’s relationship to The Creator. At this writing, I am about one-third of the way through the manuscript at 58,306 words.

Also, I’ve been doing a great deal of research into various topics that relate to The Gray Empire series. Primarily, I’ve been looking into both the science and art of Cymatics, as it relates to Ley Lines and the harmonics of the earth, energy, water, and i-dee-force, (the creation force). Nikola Tesla famously said, ” If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration.” It’s interesting to me that both science, (quantum physics), and the Bible agree on this, that the universe and all we know resulted from the shaping force of sound. In science, it is called String Theory. In the Bible it is called, The Word. “In the beginning was the Word,”.

Cymatics is a way of displaying the shapes of sound visually so that the patterns of each tonal frequency become a unique visible pattern. These tonal frequencies have a physical influence on energies and on water and other objects, both living and inanimate. Sound can influence the polarization of crystals in rock, the shape of a snowflake, the height and color of a flame, and the direction of flow in a stream of water. Some theorize that properly applied, sound is capable of levitating heavy objects or shattering them to pieces. Everything in creation has a resonant frequency. Everything from a single-cell organism to the planets, the sun, and beyond. Knowing and manipulating that resonance can cause harm or good, depending on your purpose. One advanced study proposes to cure various cancers by focusing a pinpoint beam of sound onto the tumor, at the cancer cell’s resonant frequency, and shattering the cellular walls, thus destroying the cancer. Experiments thus far have been quite successful.

So, how does all this relate to Rick Townsend and the Gray Empire? You’ll have to read the books to find out. Begin with “The Practician“, then follow with my current WIP, “The Rift”, and that, to be followed by “Gray Empire” and then, the final book in the series, “Holy Blood”.

Thanks for following along. Press on regardless, count your blessings and do good work.

In The Midst of Mutiny

Here we are at the end of March, the end of the first quarter of 2023. Nancy and I have been trying to take advantage of the beautiful weather by spending time outdoors whenever possible. Last night, twenty days after the fact, we celebrated our fifty-first anniversary at Café Coconut Cove in Melbourne Beach. We had a wonderful dinner at the best table in the house, with the best server in the house, Marissa. The food was delicious, the company inspiring, and the setting couldn’t have been more perfect. I wish I could wine her and dine her like that every night, but, alas.

Early in the month, we had a visit from our grandson, Noah. It was a blessing to spend time with him. Unfortunately, he came down with a cold and spent three of his six days in bed. In the time he was able, we went fishing at Sabastian Inlet. He caught a rockfish. So did I. In fact, we caught the same rockfish twice. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a fish, but it was plenty strong. That rock made off with our tackle each time we caught it. We also went to the Dinosaur Store and museum in Cocoa Beach. Noah would like to get into paleontology, so his interest in fossils drew us there. We also took an airboat ride from Camp Holly, south through the Big Sawgrass and Little Sawgrass lakes, in search of gators. Saw a few, but nothing spectacular. We had a great meal together at my and Nancy’s favorite outdoor eating establishment, The Old Fish House in Grant. We had planned a day at the zoo also but gave it up for a day of rest. Besides, we live in a zoo, it’s all around us every day, like The Matrix.

Meanwhile, life goes on, on Croton Road. In fact, it has been very busy here this month with doctors’ appointments and caring for the sick and wounded. Nancy’s knee is improving steadily, and the surgeon was pleased with her progress. So am I. We have friends that were seriously injured in a motorcycle accident at Bike Week in Daytona. We’re trying to minister to them with meals, but it’s difficult as they live miles away in Southwest Palm Bay.

Here at the old folks’ home, Mom continues her slow decline into dementia, requiring an increased level of care from us. In addition, she wounded her leg on the car door and the wound became infected. We’ve been battling the infection most of the month. Really the battle is with her, trying to get her to take her pills. Mom is OCPD, and trying to change anything in her daily routine is like trying to get Monk, the TV detective, to search a dumpster. It’s frustrating and requires a great deal of time and patience.

As far as work goes, progress is slow, but I’m not blocked. I’m never blocked. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m usually overwhelmed by the number of story ideas that pop into my head each week, stories I will never have time to write, but I dutifully make notes about the inspiration. No, this month has been different. Often, when I am writing, one of my characters, or several, or an element of the plot, will take over the story and start bending it, twisting the plot in ways I hadn’t intended until, sometimes, I become confused about where the story is going. That’s what happened this month with “Patriarch”. I’ve struggled with a confused storyline all month long, trying to understand the plot twists my characters were creating. Trying to see how each particular subplot plays into the central theme of the story. It’s been difficult. I feel as if I’m working hard to write about a mutiny taking place aboard Patriarch, while my characters are mutinying against me.

The solution to the dilemma was surprising, even to me. A new character has entered the story, a sentient AI who is conspiring with Patriarch’s Executive Officer to take over the ship. An interesting turn of events, but it put the story back on track, and now we’re headed for an explosive climax. Can’t wait to get this manuscript finished.

In the meantime, I’m nine weeks behind schedule and the clock keeps ticking. Finished or not, come hell or high water, on May first I will begin the final draft of “The Rift”, book two of the Gray Empire Series. The additional time required to finish and publish “Patriarch” will have to be accomplished in the background. The manuscript stands at 96,093 words today. As the work continues that number moves up on some days, and down on others, depending on the ever-changing storyline.

That’s it for this update. Until next month, think good thoughts, press onward regardless, and do good work.

Finding Myself in The Midst of a Mutiny

Here we are at the end of March, the end of the first quarter of 2023. Nancy and I have been trying to take advantage of the beautiful weather by spending time outdoors whenever possible. Last night, twenty days after the fact, we celebrated our fifty-first anniversary at Café Coconut Cove in Melbourne Beach. We had a wonderful dinner at the best table in the house, with the best server in the house, Marissa. The food was delicious, the company inspiring, and the setting couldn’t have been more perfect. I wish I could wine her and dine her like that every night, but, alas.

We had a visit from our grandson, Noah. It was a blessing to spend time with him. Unfortunately, he came down with a cold and spent three of his six days in bed. In the time he was able, we went fishing at Sabastian Inlet. He caught a rock fish. So did I. In fact, we caught the same rock fish twice. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a fish, but it took our tackle with it. We also went to the Dinosaur Store and museum in Cocoa Beach. Noah would like to get into paleontology, so his interest in that drew us there. We also took an airboat ride from Camp Holly, south through Big Sawgrass and Little Sawgrass, in search of gators. Saw a few. We had a great meal together at my and Nancy’s favorite outdoor eating establishment, the Grant Fish House. We had planned a day at the zoo but gave it up for a day of rest. Besides, the zoo is all around us every day, like in The Matrix.

Life goes on, on Croton Road. In fact, it has been very busy this month with doctors appointments and caring for the sick and wounded. Nancy’s knee is improving steadily, and the surgeon was pleased with her progress. So am I. We have friends that were seriously injured in a motorcycle accident at Bike Week in Daytona. We’re trying to minister to them with meals, but it’s difficult as they live miles away in Southwest Palm Bay.

Here at the old folks’ home, Mom continues her slow decline, requiring more and more care from us. In addition, she wounded her leg on the car door and the wound became infected. We’ve been battling the infection most of the month as well as battling with her to take her pills. Mom is OCPD, and trying to change anything in her daily routine is like trying to get Monk, the TV detective, to search a dumpster. It’s frustrating and consumes a great deal of time and patience.

As far as work goes, I’m not blocked. I’m never blocked. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m normally overwhelmed by the number of story ideas that pop into my head each week, stories I will never have time to write, but I dutifully make notes about the inspiration. No, this month has been different. Often, when I am writing, one of my characters, or several, or an element of the plot, will take over the story and start bending it, twisting the plot in ways I hadn’t intended until I become confused about where the story is going. That’s what happened this month with the Patriarch manuscript. I’ve struggled with the confusion all month long, trying to understand the plot twists my characters were creating. Trying to see how their particular subplot plays into the central theme of the story. It’s been difficult. As I’m working hard to write about the mutiny taking place aboard Patriarch, my characters are mutinying against me. The solution to my dilemma was surprising, even to me. A new character has entered the story, a sentient AI who is conspiring with Patriarch’s Executive Officer to take over the ship. An interesting turn, very interesting. Anyway, the story is back on track, headed for an explosive climax. Can’t wait to get it finished.

In the meantime, I’m now nine weeks behind schedule. What that means is, if I finished the manuscript today, it would take another nine weeks to launch the book. Finished or not, I begin the final draft of “The Rift”, book two of the Gray Empire Series, on May first, come hell or high water. The additional weeks required to finish and publish “Patriarch” will have to be accomplished in the background. The manuscript stands at 96,093 words today. As the work continues that number moves up on some days, and down on others, depending on the ever-changing story.

Until next month, think good thoughts, press onward regardless, and do good work.

The Instrument of Kings

The organ, as a musical instrument, has been around in one form or another, since the third century BC, but it wasn’t until medieval times that the instrument began to be used by the church, being installed in cathedrals such as Winchester and Notre Dam. During the Renaissance, the instrument evolved into a masterpiece of art and sound, a fashion statement that became the desire of kings and lords, and archbishops.

In the romantic period, during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the instrument became much more symphonic, able to produce very sophisticated sounds with complex harmonics and deeply resonant tones. In modern times, the development of more sophisticated pneumatic and electro-pneumatic key actions made it possible to separate the console from the pipes which opened wide the doors to organ design.

Today, however, in the age of electronic synthesizers and amplification, the pipe organ is becoming a lost art. The costs of design, installation, and maintenance are too much to bear for most organizations that would benefit from the grandeur of a pipe organ. Still, the power and majesty of the pipe organ is unique in the world of music. Perhaps the best-known piece written specifically for the Instrument of Kings is Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D-minor. Click on the link to listen to the majestic sounds of Liene Andreta Kalnciema playing the masterful E.F. Walcker & Co, 1883, pipe organ at the Riga Cathedral in Riga, Latvia.

Here is a link to a very modern, electronic version, interpreted by the Trans Siberian Orchestra. You be the judge. Which do you think better provides the power and grandeur that Bach intended?

Lost and Found Art Forms

Like some ancient languages, there are certain art forms that are on the endangered list. They include forms like script illumination and puppetry. In the case of “fore-edge painting”, the art is being reborn in young artists like Maisie Matilda.
Fore-edge painting dates back to the tenth century AD, five-hundred years before the invention of the printing press. Because books at the time were scripted and bound by hand they were rare and highly valued. Fore-edge painting was a way for the owners of books to identify who they belonged to. The earliest English fore-edge paintings began to appear in the fourteenth century. In fact, the art of disappearing fore-edge painting, (a painting that is not visible when the book is closed), was developed for the very purpose of identifying ownership and was usually based on heraldic themes. Credit for the “mysterious” art of disappearing fore-edge painting is given to Samuel Mearne, who was the bookbinder in service to King Charles II from 1660 to 1683. Fore-edge painting remained popular for Bibles, prayer books, collections of poetry, and many other multi-volume works long into the nineteenth century, but the costs involved eventually brought the practice to an end.
Today the art is being kept alive by artists like Martin Frost and Maisie Matilda. Maisie produces beautiful renderings of themes from great fiction like “Harry Potter” and “Lord of The Rings”. You can find her work on Instagram and Etsy and Martin Frost’s can be found here and on Instagram.

For My Next Title…

I love the Bible. I love the layers upon layers of meaning you find as you study and meditate on the scriptures. I love the simplicity of the gospel, on its surface. I love the ever-growing metaphoric complexity of His word, as you come to know God in all the various aspects that give depth and meaning to His many names. Eventually, if you persist, you come to properly honor and fear God’s absolute sovereignty over His creation. If you dig deep enough, you find that no matter how well you think you know Him, He remains an enigma, a puzzle far beyond human capacity to solve or understand.

Yet, above all this, He desires to have a personal relationship with you, not to make you His slave, as His enemies would have you believe, for that’s what Satan and his minions have done since they were given freedom to roam the earth. Unlike Satan, however, God’s purpose is to set you free in His eternal heavens. First, however, He must test you to know the limits of your faith. He must prune you and prepare you so that you are ready to accept the burden of responsibility that freedom and eternity both require. God must know, before giving you a place in Heaven, that you have chosen of your own free will to spend eternity with Him.

The Bible is a book of many stories about diverse people and events that take place over thousands of years. On the surface those stories are something of a historical record of human events, both literal and metaphoric, beginning with the creation of all things and ending with a prophecy and a promise for the eternal future. There are relatively few people who truly understand the connecting tissue of those many stories. Most people are not even aware that a connection exists, but just beneath the surface of the scriptures, hidden from the world’s sight, is a single story that is connected from the beginning of the Bible to its end. It is the greatest story ever told. It is the responsibility of the Christian church to reveal that story to a lost and dying world. As an artist, author, and member of the Body of Christ, I have chosen the literary art to pass on God’s revelation of Himself to the world around me.

Between the lines of scripture lie limitless layers of story. In the Bible Book Club Series, I try to create novels of fiction based on the stories I see there, and on the message and meaning of the subject scripture. As with the creation itself, the series begins at the beginning, in Genesis. My novel, “The Oubliette“, the first in the series, is based on the stories revealed to me in the scriptures from Genesis 1:1 through 11:9. As with all the titles in this series, The Oubliette is a novel of fiction, it is not scriptural commentary or an interpretation confined by strict orthodoxy. The series is not intended to be used as a Bible study, but it could be used for a Bible study, in conjunction with the Bible itself.

My next novel, “Patriarch”, the second in the Bible Book Club series, tells the story of Abraham, the “friend of God” and Patriarch to the Hebrew people, the children of faith, and also the sons of Ishmael. Because of the great complexities of Abraham’s life and the many-layered meanings in the Biblical story of him, Patriarch is tightly focused on two aspects of his story. His mission of faith, to carry the knowledge of God to the Pagan lands of Canaan, and his prior knowledge of God’s continuing plan for the destruction of wickedness, this time in Sodom and Gomorrah. To try to cover more of Abraham’s life would require at least three novels and perhaps more, novels that may come in obedience to the Holy Spirit but are not currently part of the plan.

September 2022

The beginning of September was very busy, with all the effort focused on September 22nd, the Vernal Equinox and launch day for The Practician. With the exception of technical difficulties in uploading the print version to Ingram Sparks, and Barnes & Noble, Everything went fairly smoothly. As it is, the print version is available exclusively from Amazon. I wanted B&N, (a real brick and mortar book store), to participate in sales of print copies, but the problems are on their end and typical of the Web, there is no one to contact, no one accountable, no one responsible for system failures, just a faceless digital wall. As for Ingram Sparks, I’ve written them off as unnecessary. I won’t even bother trying next time.

On a brighter note, I want to thank everyone who participated in the launch, I’m learning how to do this better each time. For those who want their print version signed, be sure to bring the book with you the next time we get together. I’m still trying to find a way to autograph digital copies. I think I have it figured out but I have to work out the details, so hang tight for that. In the meantime, I want to give a special shoutout to Aubrey Labitigan in Manila, Philippines, for her beautiful cover design, and to Brenda Van Neikirk in Johannesburg, South Africa for her excellent formatting skills. They have both been a great help to me.

Following the launch, and leading up to Ian’s destructive march across the state, I fell into a malaise about what to do next. I submitted a short story entitled “The Dud” to the Missouri Review fiction contest. I’ve submitted stories to many literary magazines in the past but never won a prize, or publication. I don’t anticipate anything different this time, but you can’t win if you’re not in the game, right? Following that I’ve decided to prioritize a project entitled “Patriarch”, it will be book two of the Bible Book Club Series, a story of Abraham. I quickly point out that the Bible offers many stories about Abraham, this is just one of them. I think it will be an interesting and entertaining read. I hope to launch it on March 20th ’23.

Once Ian passed by, yesterday, I started putting together a list of agents in an effort to find one to represent “The Practician” to the publishing industry. Please wish me luck in that effort, or better, wish me luck in my independent efforts to promote the book and my brand on my own, as that would be my preference.

Finally, in an effort to connect with local writers and those more distant, I have begun looking at literary events throughout the state and the South. One such event is scheduled for October 9th from 12:00 PM to 4:00 PM, a book signing by local author, Hep Aldridge, at the Hawksbill Bar and Grill on Merritt Island. It’s a drop-in affair. Come join the fun if you can make the time. Having never done a book signing, I’m interested to see how it works. I want to talk to Hep about it and see if it might be something I’d like to do in the future.

Anyway, that’s about it for this month. Time to get back to work, see you next month. In the meantime, be blessed and do good work. 

The Patrician, a Review

The Patrician, by John Galsworthy

It took me some time to finish reading this. I have any number of excuses for that. I’m a slow reader, or perhaps just thorough. I don’t get enough time to read and, often when I have time I’m just too tired to make sense of it. I am reading other books at the same time, usually weighty non-fiction, necessary for research that I’m doing. Also, Galsworthy is not the kind of author one reads in a hurry. Virginia Woolf once chastised him for spending too many words on “unnecessary details.”

Those “unnecessary details”, however, are what make John Galsworthy unique among a peer group of great writers, including Virginia Woolf. Quite frankly, I think she was jealous of his talent, but I am astounded that in all of the writing and literary courses I am aware of, not one cites John Galsworthy as a benchmark for fine literature. Virginia Woolf’s criticisms aside, John Galsworthy may be the benchmark.

I was first introduced to his work through a short story of his that inspired me many years ago. The story titled, “Quality”, was the finest piece of literary fiction I have ever read, then or now, and ought to be a benchmark for every MFA out there. Galsworthy’s style of weaving plot, character and setting into one flowing tapestry is almost mind boggling in its beauty. Because of his massive vocabulary, he is able to weave rich detail into each and every sentence of each and every paragraph, detail that adds to the reading pleasure, rather than detracts; sorry to disagree with Virginia Woolf.

He is so good at creating a colorful and detailed artwork of the lives of his characters that I didn’t realize until I finished reading “The Patrician”, that I was reading a romance novel. Yes, a romance novel so well written that it can actually be called “literary fiction.” As an author, Galsworthy creates, for me, a benchmark for literary quality that I can only hope to someday attain. The excerpt below is the ending paragraph in which the romance aspect of the novel became clear to me. In this final scene, the main character’s mother is reflecting on all that has occurred in the illicit relationship between her son, Lord Miltoun Caradoc, an aspiring politician, and a married, but estranged woman, Eustice, with whom he has fallen in love. Lady Caradoc has, at last, succeeded in breaking them apart by convincing Eustice to walk away from her true love.

“Light, entering the vast room—a room so high that its carved ceiling refused itself to exact scrutiny—

… Safe? Yes, he was safe! He had done the right—the natural thing! And in time he would be happy! He would rise now to that pinnacle of desired authority which she had dreamed of for him, ever since he was a tiny thing, ever since his little thin brown hand had clasped hers in their wanderings amongst the flowers, and the furniture of tall rooms. But, as she stood—crumpling the letter, grey-white, as some small, resolute ghost, among her tall lilies that filled with their scent the great glass house, shadows flitted across her face. Was it the fugitive noon sunshine? Or was it some glimmering perception of the old Greek saying—’Character is Fate;’ some sudden sense of the universal truth that all are in bond to their own natures, and what a man has most desired shall in the end enslave him?”

Darwin is Dead

God is not dead, but Charles Darwin is. In view of the latest, poorly reported science, I want to exhume him and make his bones stand in apology to the world for the hubris he exercised in foisting a great lie onto the world, a theory of human development that excluded God and His role.

God is not dead, but John T. Scopes is. I want to exhume him and have his bones stand in apology to every child that has ever been taught the vital lie that mankind evolved from apes. Clarence Darrow is dead along with him. I want his moldering bones to stand in apology with Mr. Scopes’, as he did that day in a court of law, mocking God as he denied that God had any place in mankind’s creation.

“God is not mocked, a man will reap what he sows.”

Men like you have sown the seeds of a Godless world and our children’s children are reaping its bitter fruit. I want every school board member who has ever voted for a curriculum that included the Darwinian lie of human evolution to stand up and apologize for leading generations of Americans down a road that leads to death and hell. I want every board member, every administrator, every teacher and every school librarian who have refused to even allow the possibility of intelligent design to be discussed in our schools to resign immediately, give up your pensions and confess your lies.

God is NOT dead, but Neanderthal is. Though Godless science is struggling to perpetuate the Darwinian lie in whatever form they can, the facts are in. The study of Neanderthal DNA makes it clear that there is no connection between that species and modern humans. Now that the chain of apes has been broken, it becomes clear that even the genetic similarities between chimps and humans cannot overcome the vast differences between us. The genetic evidence concludes that modern humans are a separate and distinct species that appeared suddenly in the fossil record about 200,000 years ago with no evolutionary history or connection to other species. It seems that we resulted from a mysterious and precise splicing of the FOXP2 gene by means that can only be described as a miracle of intelligent design. Of course, the Darwinists don’t want you to know all this until they can fabricate a backstory that eliminates God from the equation. That’s probably why they’ve quietly changed our species from Homo-Sapiens to Anatomically Modern Humans, (AMH). They can change the names and twist the words and meanings all they want, but they will never change the truth; “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, …So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Genesis 1:1, 27

Throwback Thursday

“The Oubliette” is a compelling tale of the dark forces that have, from the beginning of time, doggedly shaped our world by their influence on the minds of men. It is the powerful story of one man’s confrontation with an imprisoned angel whose rebellion has been especially offensive to God. It is a fictional account of the continuing battle for the minds of men, and for planet Earth.

According to the Book of Enoch , 10:6-9, “… the Lord said to Raphael, Bind Azazel hand and foot; cast him into darkness; and open the desert which is in Dudael, cast him in there. There shall he remain forever; cover his face, that he may not see the light. And in the great day of judgment let him be cast into the fire.”

It’s too bad that both the Jewish and Christian Biblical canon have rejected the Book of Enoch. That it is missing from our scriptures has created a black hole of ignorance among believers, ignorance about one of God’s most vital purposes in creation. His desire for each and every one of those of us who believe to take our place at the wall and join Him in Spiritual warfare against His enemies, the angels who rebelled. The enemy seeks to destroy us, to destroy our relationship with God, and thus destroy His plan of salvation. God purposes to put an end to the rebellion. He seeks that everyone should be saved and not one be lost. God doesn’t need our help to win this last battle, but He invites us to freely choose whom we will serve so that He will know His sheep from among the herds. He commands His armies, “Restore the earth, which the angels have corrupted; and announce life to it, that I may revive it.” (1 Enoch 10:10)