Michael E. Gunter's Blog, page 3

Good vs. Great

Think about your favorite song, book, or movie. What sets it apart from all the others? What makes it better than just good? What makes it great? As a musician and writer, I continually strive to push beyond just good. Like any serious artist, I want my work to be great. So again I ask, what makes something really great?

I’ve heard songs performed flawlessly, but they failed to move me. I’ve read well-written books that failed to captivate me. I’ve seen movies with talented actors and exquisite cinematography that were hardly memorable. Apparently, there is more to art than talent and technique.

I think the difference is found somewhere in the heart of the artist. Before an idea can be formulated into words, before the fingers touch the instrument, the heart of the artist must be affected in order to connect with the hearts of the audience. For those artists who consistently create great art, engaging the heart no less a part of their craft than tuning their instrument or getting the lighting just right. If we think of the heart as a destination, some artists get there a lot easier than others. I know musicians who appear to breath out great music. It seems they were born with an extra musical gene. I’m not like that. I struggle to get my guitar playing even close to where I want it. My writing is the same way. Sometimes it seems like the right words are buried deep, and I have to scrape and dig and pull them from the ground. But I’ve learned some things along the way that help me get to that heart place. I’d like to share them with you.

Time is necessary. Whether it’s working out a guitar riff or writing a character or scene, it takes time. Seldom do I create anything of value when I rush. It takes time for hands to form chords naturally. It takes time to really get to know a character.

Honesty really is the best policy. As art is an expression of oneself, we must resist the temptation to cast ourselves in any light other than the one that shines upon us when we are alone. This leads to #3.

Vulnerability is unavoidable. Every artist fails, but the great ones are not defeated by failure. If we are too afraid to put ourselves out there or unwilling to receive criticism, we may as well give up. Face it, some people will hate what you do. Some will love it.

Conviction is key. If we don’t believe in our art, chances are no one else will either. Now I know some of you are reluctant to promote your own art for fear of coming across as conceited or arrogant. I get that because I have those same thoughts. What helps me is to remember that art is a gift that brings great joy to people. If I truly believe that about my books then I can enthusiastically share them without being shy about it. Something else that helps keep the balance is to get behind other artists and help promote their work.

I’m sure there are lots of other ideas that can help us in this matter. If you are an artist, please feel free to share what helps you engage your heart in your craft. We’d all love to hear and learn from you.

The Real Final Frontier

Okay, so I saw the new Star Trek movie yesterday. It delivers, but that’s not what I want to write about today. On Friday, I suggested there is a frontier that is even more final than the vast realm of outer space, and I hinted that it’s a lot closer than the stars. It’s referred to be several names: The New Earth, the New Jerusalem, the Kingdom of God, Heaven. While it’s intriguing to contemplate this real final frontier – what it will look like, what we will do there – for the purpose of this post, I want to consider something more immediate. Why is it this frontier beckons us so?

First, let’s go back, way back, back to the beginning. The Bible teaches that our most ancient ancestors were created in the image of God and placed in a perfect environment under the most ideal conditions imaginable. They lived in harmony with nature, each other, and God. They could hear his audible voice. Perhaps they could see Him with their physical eyes. Maybe they even felt His real touch. All this was possible because the first man and woman had not yet sinned. There was nothing between them and God. They were absolutely innocent.

Sometime after creation, the man and woman succumbed to temptation and sinned. This one act put in motion all the horrors mankind has ever known. The harmony between humans and nature was wrecked. The harmony between humans was severely damaged. The harmony between humans and God was severed. However, as our ancestors stepped into a new world of frustration, trouble and pain, there remained within them the memory of what was lost. And just as the propensity and penalty of sin was passed down from generation to generation, so also the memory of the pre-fall perfection was passed. But it isn’t a memory like we have when we remember something we once knew. For us, this memory exists as a restlessness; the notion that something is very wrong with this world.

Now the irony of this is that while everyone senses this dis-ease in the world, most people fail to understand the cause of it, and therefore the solution to it. They try with all their heart, but even their best plans fail.

I am by no means a pessimist. Quite the opposite. But my worldview is shaped by two basic ideas: 1) The world is broken…which means I believe there had to have been a time when the world was not broken and something very specific broke it. 2) God is fixing it…which means I believe there is hope that the world will be right again and something very specific will fix it. So, I believe the world was once on the right track and it will be again. And those specific somethings? The thing that broke the world is sin. Every frustration, pain and suffering we experience is caused by sin. But there is a solution to this Human Dilemma; a Divine Solution. God started the long process of fixing our sin problem right after it occurred. He completed it with the death and resurrection of His Son Jesus. The Divine Solution has been working in the lives of individuals for about two thousand years. And God will institute its full manifestation when the times are complete. That’s the real Final Frontier.

Space, the Final Frontier. Really?

No doubt, outer space is cool. I mean, it’s huge and mysterious and conjures up all sorts of questions and speculations. Who doesn’t feel small when they consider its vastness? Who hasn’t wondered what’s out there? The ancients were very interested in the stars. It was the dwelling place of the gods. Their mythologies spoke of visitors from the stars coming down and bestowing upon them great wisdom. They arranged their monuments and cities to mimic the constellations they saw in the night sky. “As above, so below.” We moderns may not think of it in exactly the same way as the ancients, but we are no less fascinated by it. Instead of mimicking the stars in stone and city placement, we make movies and write books. Indeed, I will soon be joining the masses to see the new Star Trek movie. Why? Well, the opening lines of Star Trek takes a shot:

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five year mission: To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

Now, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this subject. I’m awe-struck by the images captured by the Hubble Telescope. I get into the space documentaries on The Discovery Channel. And It’s a pretty safe bet that I will see most every sci-fi movie that comes out. But it has come into my mind that our fascination with outer space isn’t really about what’s out there. Rather, it’s about something much closer to home. Listen and you will hear a comment something like this: “We hope our exploration of outer space will answer questions about our own origins.” Look and you will see that our favorite extraterrestrial characters exhibit very human qualities – specifically, those qualities we admire most and would like to see exhibited within us. Superman was a genuinely good man. Yoda was wise. ET was a true friend. And it was the human side of Spock that eventually enabled him to overcome the cold logic of his Vulcan side.

So, maybe space isn’t the final frontier after all. Maybe the final frontier is really about finding the ideal human. Some evolutionists believe we will one day get there. But this begs the question: Where did we get such an idea? Could it be the lingering effects of what once was; the afterglow of who we once were? Graham Hancock speculates that humanity suffers from a collective amnesia about its past. If we could go far enough back in time, maybe we would meet this ideal version of us. I personally think there is something to this. I’ll explore this more in Monday’s blog post. But in the meantime, enjoy these stunning photographs taken from the International Space Station.

Life After This

What if the world as we know it ceased to exist? Great plot for a movie, right? Hollywood certainly thinks so. And several popular television shows are putting their spin on the idea right now: Revolution (NBC), Defiance (SyFy), and Walking Dead (AMC) just to name a few. The common thread in all of these show is the human will to survive. Life goes on. Humanity adapts, struggles to find a new normal and preserves whatever is left of itself. But what if something like this happened for real? Well, it did – at least for a small tourist town in Argentina. On November 10, 1985, the town of Villa Epecuen flooded, and the townspeople fled for their lives. This was no ordinary flood that interrupts life for a few days or weeks. It wasn’t even a flood like what happened in New Orleans. When the flood waters came upon Villa Epecuen, it submerged the town under 33 feet of salt water and stayed. Twenty five years later, the water receded, revealing a ghostly image of what once was a flourishing tourist destination. Now the tourists are returning, but for a very different reason than what drew them there before the flood. Then it was a vacation spot. Now it is a macabre curiosity.

But what about the people? The world as they knew it ceased to exist on November 10, 1985. They did not. Tragic as it was, the end of their town was not the end of them. They found new homes. They adapted to new ways of life. They survived. I won’t pretend this sort of thing is easy, but history proves big change is survivable.

It puts life into perspective, doesn’t it? We are so used to the way things are, we can hardly imagine anything different. But nothing in this life is secure or constant. Floods come in many forms – loss of job, bad news from a doctor, loss of love. When such storms hit, they throw us for a loop and we wonder how on Earth will we ever survive. My worldview gives me the answer. My God has promised me that nothing will be the end of me, not even death. I read in His Word that life goes on. When this world as I know it ends for me, I will move on to an even better home, my real home. I will survive.

Click here to view photographs of Villa Epecuen as it looks today. Compared to the home that awaits those who belong to God, the most thriving civilization on Earth has no more life and beauty in it that this.

My Strange Week In Review

One of the side affects of this modern age is the deluge of information that confronts us every day. We are virtually swimming in it. And with so many sources dispensing so many facts, theories, opinions, and myths, it’s not unusual for us to hear all sorts of strange and wonderful things. That’s another big difference between this current time and the not too distant past. For most of my life, we were quite content not know everything. If it wasn’t worth the effort of searching through the dictionary or encyclopedia or (gasp) a trip to the library, well, we were okay with not knowing it. Furthermore, when something strange came across our radar, it was a big deal. I was absolutely amazed by the radio transmissions from the Apollo missions. Never mind I had no idea what they were talking about, the fact that they were voices from men on the moon was incredible. Nowadays, we hear some of the most bizarre things and we are hardly notice them at all. By way of example, these are some of the stories I heard this week:

* I heard from two unrelated sources that Sammy Hagar was abducted by aliens in 1967.

* I saw a video of Koko, a gorilla who uses sign language, cuddling with Mr. Rogers and telling him she loves him. Then she took off his shoes.

* There was a really cool solar eclipse, visible in Australia, but I saw it on the Internet.

* I learned that there could be as many as 4 billion earth-like planets in our galaxy, able to sustain life.

* I heard and read that our federal government spent $402,721 on the development of underwear that can detect when you are smoking.

These are just a few of the strange things I heard this week, and I wasn’t even looking for them. Who knows what other tales of the bizarre I could have found had I been looking? Now this is the really strange part – as I shared some of these oddities with my friends, they weren’t all that impressed. They were just drops in the ocean of information. What will it take to fascinate us again?

We Live In the Future

In fact, we’ve been living in the future for thirteen years. When I was a kid (in the 1970s), I always thought of the future as the year 2000. Growing up with every year beginning with a 19, changing over to 20 just sounded so, well, futuristic. My friends and I used to talk about it. “How old will you be in the year 2000?” someone would ask. “Thirty five,” I’d say. Then the conversation would continue along the lines of “What will the world be like then?” and “What will we be like then?” Here’s our 1970s list of the things we expected to find in the future of the year 2000:

1. There would be flying cars. (Got that one from The Jetsons)

2. Every house would have a push button telephone.

3. All televisions would be operated by remote control.

4. A human would have been to Mars.

5. Robots would be common. (Again, think of The Jetsons)

6. Rock-n-Roll would be even more awesome.

7. There would be lazar guns.

8. Star Wars would have nine episodes.

9. Every home would have a computer.

10. Earth would have been visited by extraterrestrials.

So here we are thirteen years into the future. In some ways, we didn’t go as far as my younger self believed. In other ways, we’ve gone way beyond it.

1. Not only do we not have flying cars, now guys my age get all excited when we see a car from the 70s. Didn’t see that coming at all.

2. The push button phone came and went. Now I don’t even own a home phone.

3. Television sets have gotten much cooler than I expected. Television programming has gotten much worse. Didn’t see that one either.

4. The space program is one of the greatest disappointments of the future. Too sad to say any more about it.

5. After seeing Terminator, I stopped hoping for robots. This future is so much better than what could have been.

6. I stand corrected. Rock-n-Roll is the greatest disappointment of the future. Even sadder than television.

7. I recently heard about a lazar that can sink a ship. Better late than never…or maybe not.

8. So now Disney is making Star Wars episodes 7-9. I will reserve my thoughts until I see them.

9. Admittedly, computer technology has surpassed my wildest expectations. We really do live in the future.

10. Still no convincing evidence of visitation by extraterrestrials. Given the abundance of movies about aliens, you’d think ETs were landing on Earth every day. But like the robots of Terminator, most of the movie aliens are more terrifying than fascinating. That’s one of the reasons I decided to write the BLACKWELL series. These are the extraterrestrials you’d want to encounter.

Yeah, we live in the future. Good, bad, indifferent, it’s where we are. Still, it makes me wonder where we are going.

Dare to Believe

Belief. It’s so basic to the human experience. In fact, we cannot imagine life without it. Everybody believes in something…a lot of things. So, where did we get all these beliefs? How did we come to hold them? Religion, politics, paranormal phenomenon – why do we believe some things and not others? And why is it so threatening to consider evidence that challenges our beliefs?

I know a man who thought he had it all figured out. If it couldn’t be proved, he wouldn’t believe it. But then one day, something happened that he just could not explain away. Oh, he tried, but one by one all the “acceptable” options proved insufficient, and all that was left was the one thing it should not be. In that instant, the shell of his skepticism cracked, and he had no choice but to believe. As he crossed the threshold from unbelief to belief, he remembered the words of an old college professor:

It’s not always easy to believe. Sure, there are many things we accept without giving them much thought at all. When we were children we even believed fantastic things. But when it comes to something that carries with it extreme implications, belief can be a fight. This is especially true if the new belief requires us to accept something we’ve always rejected as false or reject something we’ve always accepted as true. We may encounter such life-changing moments only once or twice in a lifetime. But when we do, we find ourselves in the thick of a mental battle between two opposing forces. Part of us wants to reject the new idea in order to maintain the old system. We are wooed by the comfort, security, and familiarity of all that we have ever known. But another part of us wants to give in, to accept the new idea and all the changes that accompany it. Both parts know that a decision must be made, a threshold must be crossed, a new reality must be entered from which there is no return. This wrestling of the mind, and that is exactly what it is, can be exhausting. It can even manifest itself in physical ways. (Excerpt from BLACKWELL: The Encounter Begins)

When is the last time you had a good wrestle with an idea that held extreme implications? When is the last time you dared to believe?

Band Review: All In

At first glance, they look like typical high school kids – fresh faces, clothes they might wear to school, and smiles. Yes, they actually smile. Not exactly what you’d expect to find on stage at a bar and grill, but that’s exactly what I saw last Saturday night. I don’t expect the members of the band All In like to be called kids. I suspect they’d like to shed that first impression and be judged solely by their music. But I needed to start here because it is the truth of this first impression followed by the reality of what they do that gives me hope. I, along with many of my musician friends (middle aged guys who remember when classic rock was just rock), bemoan the present state of popular music. No need to elaborate. If you don’t know what I mean, you won’t appreciate what I am about to say. But if you do, keep reading. This is what I mean by hope: 1) All In plays really good rock-n-roll, and 2) They play rock-n-roll really good…I mean, well.

First the music. Almost their entire set list is classic rock – James Brown, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Santana, ZZ Top, Pink Floyd, Eric Clapton, Wild Cherry, you get the idea. It was like listening to the soundtrack of my teen years. But that doesn’t mean they are stuck in the past. As if to prove it, they throw in an Adele song and trick out some of the old songs with a fresh new groove.

But it’s that second thing that’s most impressive. They’re just so darn good. Here’s the line-up: Michael Gigante is solid on bass and provides background vocals, except on ZZ Top’s “La Grange” where he sings lead. My hats off to him for digging down deep to get that Texas growl. Declan Prendergast provides a cool sound-foundation on the keys and serves up tasty solos on the Skynyrd songs. Billy Powell would be proud. Ryan Casey handles all the guitar work. Not to slight the rest of the band, but as a guitarist myself, I can’t help but pay extra attention to other guitar players. I saw Ryan play about a year ago, and thought he was good then. This time, he blew me away. Ryan can nail the set leads and improvise like a pro. But he’s not all flash. He plays tastefully with a maturity beyond his years. He obviously knows his way across the fretboard, but he also knows when to pull back and when to let it rip. Vocals – there’s a reason most rock bands are fronted by male vocalists. It’s not easy to sing with the power needed for rock-n-roll and still retain all the best qualities of femininity. A few women can, and Mary Moore makes that short list. She’s a belter, sure enough to make you take notice, but she also has a softness to her that makes her so interesting to listen to. Rounding out the band is Brad Covington on drums. I’ve known Brad for awhile and have had the pleasure of playing with him on several occasions. He’s a top notch drummer, the kind that makes it easy for the rest of the band to do their thing. His timing is rock solid, and his technique is impressive.

So, there you have it, my review of a great Richmond band. But all I’ve offered are words. All In should be heard. Fortunately, you can check out their website and listen to them on YouTube. Better yet, catch them live. Gig dates are listed on the website: www.allinbandrichmond.com

Course Charting: Wrap Up

46 days ago, I started a little thought project called Course Charting where I examined the really big ideas that have shaped my life. I did this because I had a hunch that such an exercise might provide the clarity to identify the next big idea as it is forming rather than some time (perhaps years?) later. Here’s how it turned out.

I recognized that although I have many interest, I am basically a combination of four really big ideas: Mystery, Music, God, and Writing. The first three occurred early in life, and the last one came later. Upon careful examination, I discovered that all four of these ideas are intricately related. Each one came out of the previous one, not as a replacement, but as a compliment giving form and clarity to each other. Today, all four of these ideas continue to flourish and shape my thinking.

I also discovered that each idea started with a catalyst. My affinity for mystery formed as a result of where I lived and a chance viewing with an episode of The Twilight Zone. My obsession with music was ignited by a comment from a classmate by the name of Joel Barton. God found me in the midst of my anger over comments made by Bill Gothard about the music I loved. And I discovered writing via the mysterious presence of books en mass and the encouragement of a literary agent by the name of Keith Carroll.

So the big question is: Did Course Charting yield the results I was after? I think it might have…I say with extreme caution. I never expected a voice from heaven or a mysterious letter to show up with my future spelled out in certainties. But something unexpected did happen. In the last 46 days, seven completely unrelated people contacted me with basically the same general idea (catalysts?). All seven conversations had something to do with my Big Ideas, and five of them were directly related to a combination of two in particular (compatibility?). I am purposely being vague because I am by nature a cautious person. I am not saying that the veil of my future has been lifted. Nor am I going to be make any major life-changing decisions based on this little exercise. However, I do sense that my attention has been turned in a very specific direction. I am praying and watching and listening, paying careful attention to the development of what I believe could be the next Big Idea.

I’m also curious. Did any of you reflect upon the ideas that make you the person you are today? If so, what did you observe? Any revelations? Can you anticipate the next Big Idea on your horizon? Drop me a line. I’d love to hear from you.

Course Charting: How I Became an Author

Each of my major interests had a profound impact upon my thinking. Mystery opened my mind to consider possibilities that lay beyond the realm of convention. Music unlocked my creative side, enabling me to think in lyrical phrases and melodic patterns. God shifted my entire world view to that of biblical Christianity. And writing brought a clarity unlike anything I had ever know. In turn, this clarity amplified my natural curiosity. From about 2002-2006, my mental energies were focused primarily in the realm of non-fiction — specifically in three areas: Ancient Egypt (specifically the Middle Kingdom), Christian Spirituality (with a focus on monasticism), and Early American History. I read scores of books on these topics, and incorporated much of what I learned into my writing.

Then, in 2006, a shift occurred. I started thinking about fiction again, particularly how stories function as vehicles for truth. I’d also been thinking a lot about a character named Louie from my earlier short story about an alien encounter in Wyoming. This may sound a little strange, but it was as if Louie wanted to have his entire story written. The encounter that took place in 2001 was only the beginning of a much bigger story. But what? Why had he come? What did he want to say through me? Of course, I had no idea so I made a deal with him. If Louie would tell me his story, I would redirect my writing efforts back toward fiction, and we would write it together.

Louie and I spent about a year together, hanging out in local coffee shops and typing out chapters on my laptop. His story was flowing pretty good until page 133. That’s when he stopped me and said I had started in the wrong place. Apparently, Klyvians don’t think chronologically like humans. He was telling me things about what his life would be like on Earth in the year 2016, some fifteen years after his arrival. He told me about his daughter, Sara, and that his wife was gone and that they were being hunted by some kind of evil being. I, human as I am, thought that’s what he wanted me to write. When I expressed my displeasure at having wasted an entire year, Louie simply smiled, assured me that it wasn’t a waste of time, and insisted I start over from beginning. He also told me he didn’t like being called Louie, and I should use his Klyvian name, Aldi. What could I do? It was no use arguing with a seven foot tall Klyvian, even if he was a product of my own imagination. So I did what he said. I put those 133 pages in a drawer and started over from when he first arrived in 2001. Two years and 650 pages later, Aldi and I finished the account of his first nine months on Earth.

I recall sitting back, basking in the satisfaction of having written my second full-length novel. Aldi looked at me, smiling as he always does, and said, “Now you can start writing about what happens in 2016.”

“But what about all this?” I asked, pointing to the work we had just completed.

“Do what you like,” he replied. “Put it in a drawer or try to get it published. I don’t really care. But you are going to write the rest of my story.”