However here in the first world we are taught that the things that matter most in life are things. That is so untrue and so shallow, it distresses me to even think about it. However I do, and thus this post.
If you have nobody, then no matter what you possess you have nothing of true value. Don’t believe me?
What good is a massive house on a huge estate if it is empty? How joyful is that expensive new car if there is no one to share it with or to see your delight at how it drives? Would you choose to own the entire world if it was devoid of all life, save yourself?
Without someone to love, possessions are worse than nothing. Still think you love certain things? When did a thing love you back? Living creatures, pets and people, are not things, yet they are the things that matter most. They are that which loves us back.
Perhaps the reason that seeing our our grown children occasionally reverting to being children touches us so deeply is because revealing their inner child allows them to be vulnerable again. What surer sign of love is there than to open your heart and say, “Here, this is the real me.”
Think hard, then tell me… if you don’t give love, should you expect love in return?
Love matters… it matters when we have it, and it matters even more when we lack it.
In late January 2016 I was diagnosed with a very large pituitary tumor. For those who don’t know what this is, it is a tumor inside the cranial cavity. I hope you never need a brain surgeon, but if you suffer from one of these surprisingly common afflictions you’ll find you have no choice. So, to protect yourself and your loved ones you need to know more about them – this series of posts might serve that purpose. It details the events and circumstances that built up to and surrounded mine, please read on.
My past treatment at various doctor’s hand ensures a deeply defined suspicion of them. Thanks to the encouragement of a close friend, I managed to overcome my resentment and found a wonderful personal physician, Dr. Shelley Blackburn, early in 2015. I have no doubt she is the reason I still have my eyesight.
In 2015 the vision in my left eye began deteriorating. I noticed it soon after it began because it started as a blurred spot directly on the focal point of my left eye. I visited an optometrist for an examination and discussed it with her, but she couldn’t find any optical reason for it – my eyes seemed healthy. She prescribed new glasses and asked if I’d like to visit an Ophthalmologist for a follow-up exam. I asked if they’d be able to fix the problem, to which she replied “Probably not, but at least you’ll know what is wrong.” Since I was on a very high deductible insurance plan I decided not to spend a large chunk of my own money for no results. Big mistake.
Over the remainder of 2015 I watched the blurry spot in my left eye expand until over seventy percent of its vision, from the left edge to well past the center, was severally compromised. Foolishly, I shrugged it off as the likely result of a Cavernous Sinus Thrombosis suffered over thirty years previously. {Yes, that incident was a major contributing factor to my distrust of doctors.} How could I be so stupid? Easy. The Cavernous Sinus Thrombosis pinched the optic nerve of my left eye until I lost control over it and could no longer distend it to the left. Some time afterwards I was prescribed spectacles because my left eye was significantly weaker that my right. This blurry vision was simply another ramification of that old injury, right? Wrong.
The way things appear at first glance is not necessarily the way they are…
In early January 2016 I noticed a blurry spot beginning to form in my right eye. My old injury had not affected my right eye in any discernible way, so I realized I needed to act. Since the optometrist had no idea regarding the cause of the vision loss in my left eye it became clear I needed to see an Ophthalmologist. Ophthalmologists are specialists, in the USA to see one you must have a referral. I made an appointment with my GP. Fortunately, my company’s insurance provider changed for 2016 and I had opted for a lower deductible insurance plan. On the old high deductible plan I would probably have delayed, a hesitation that may well have resulted in me being clinically blind today.
During the visit with my GP I asked for a referral to an Ophthalmologist. Fate stepped in. It turned out Dr. Blackburn is blind in one eye. I described my symptoms and she immediately set to work. Here in the USA most specialists are booked up for months in advance. Dr. Blackburn called in a personal favor and secured an appointment for me with an Ophthalmologist associate of hers for the next day.
The Ophthalmologist, Dr. Richard (*), proved to be extremely thorough. Test after test showed no cause for my vision loss – both my eyes were healthy. Eventually he called for a Visual Acuity test. Bingo. As soon as he read the results, which define clear borders for our peripheral vision, he explained what he’d found. In his opinion I was displaying classic symptoms of a large pituitary tumor. This type of tumor stretches both optic nerves and results in loss of peripheral vision. I needed an MRI performed immediately.
Dr. Richard called Dr. Blackburn, she arranged the MRI, immediately. At 8pm that night I went into hospital where I lay inside the Magnetic Resonance Imaging chamber for half an hour, listening to the loud clicking, banging, and crashing of extremely technical and precise machinery mapping out my brain and skull. A word to the wise… if you ever need an MRI accept the option of loud music to both pass the time and deaden the noise.
The next morning Dr. Blackburn called me to confirm that I did indeed have a pituitary tumor. A very large pituitary tumor. How large? Mine was 24 millimeters. Imagine a one inch diameter marble sitting right inside your skull, pushing against the Frontal Lobes of your brain, distending and crushing your pituitary gland, and stretching both optic nerves. That is essentially what I had – it turns out I never lost my marbles, the doctors found mine… {Actually, I did lose my marbles, but that came later, when I was in hospital recovering from the surgery. I’ll be writing about that in a later installment of this article.}
Again Dr. Blackburn jumped into action to secure an appointment with a Neurologist she knew. Unfortunately Dr. Blackburn’s acquaintance was fully booked, however in turn she took the time to call a Neurosurgeon associate. Once again, instead of having to wait months for an appointment with a specialist, I had one in a couple of days. And what a wonderful person Dr. Brett (*) turned out to be. Calm, measured, thoughtful, and willing to take as long as necessary to explain everything to our satisfaction. Also, though significantly younger than me, Dr. Brett’s temperment strongly reminded me of my deceased oldest brother – these little things matter.
Dr. Brett explained that before a course of treatment could be determined we had to find out if the tumor was productive or non-productive and whether it was cancerous. A productive tumor produces hormones that generally play havoc, a non-productive tumor doesn’t produce hormones, and a cancerous tumor is bad news of another ilk. To determine the tumor’s type I had to see an Endocrinologist.
Yet another specialist, yet another potentially months long wait…
This time it was Dr. Brett who called in a favor by securing an appointment for me. Oh, and in case you doubt this chain of remarkable good fortune, I personally overheard him calling and speaking with the Endocrinologist to explain the urgency of the situation and how much he’d appreciate her seeing me ASAP. This was midway through a Friday afternoon.
The Endocrinologist, Dr. Michelle (*), agreed to see me early the following Tuesday afternoon, but warned I might have to wait as she was scheduling me during her lunch break. She also instructed Dr. Brett as to the specific bloodwork she would need to make a diagnosis. She needed a lot of tests performed. Dr. Brett had his assistant make an appointment for me with him the following Wednesday, then called the bloodwork department and sent me down to have the bloods for a copious number of tests drawn.
How fast was this happening? So fast that when I arrived to have my blood drawn they hadn’t yet received the written orders. I waited the short time necessary, then had multiple vials of blood drawn. The phlebotomist told me I needed to come in first thing on Monday to have another draw made, to test my hormone levels after a night’s sleep. That particular draw took a day to process, its results would be delivered to Dr. Michelle by noon on Tuesday. She would see me in the early afternoon, so there was no time wasted.
Things were rapidly falling into place. Everything was progressing incredibly smoothly, surely this was a good omen and an indication of things to come? Unfortunately it was not.
Tuesday afternoon Dr. Michelle gave me the good news. My tumor was both non-cancerous and non-producing. My hormone levels were all within their normal ranges, and she now had a baseline of what we would have to aim for after treatment. She also warned me of likely outcomes and what she would be looking for after the treatment performed by Dr. Brett.
Wednesday came. I saw Dr. Brett, who went over the results he’d already received from Dr. Michelle to confirm her prognosis. He explained that surgery to de-bulk the tumor was the best option, possibly followed by some chemotherapy or radiological treatments, should they prove necessary. He went over how he performed the surgery, answered all our questions, and we scheduled surgery. A quick skim through his appointment diary showed no openings for weeks, except for a single blank spot on Tuesday, 7th February, which happened to be the following week. I made a joke about spoiling his golf outing to cover my relief at not having weeks to fret over the tumor growing in my skull.
I would be his first case of the day and would have to be checked in, ready for surgery preparation by 6am. The method Dr. Brett uses for this surgery is a transsphenoidal pituitary resection. This procedure involves using an Endoscope, inserted and operated via one of the nostrils to enter the cranium and de-bulk the tumor. He explained that this type of surgery normally takes about two hours, along with an hour’s preparation and another hour post op to wind down. Most patients are released after a one or two-day recovery period in hospital.
In my case this was not to be.
Due to complications, the surgery itself took five hours. My recovery time in hospital wasn’t two days, it was a little over two weeks – the first six days of which were spent in the Intensive Care Unit, and of which I have only fragmentary recollection.
How do we prepare for a total memory loss? Lest you think we cannot, we can – though not in ways that easily spring to mind. Since I have firsthand experience of the phenomenon I’ll be addressing this in a following post of this article. For now, let me assure you total memory loss is nothing like it is portrayed in the movies. Nothing at all.
How is our damaged faith restored? Through the efforts of those who care. Everyone involved in my case cared. From the many nurses who looked after me to the doctors who treated me, everyone involved made extraordinary efforts to ensure the best possible outcome for me – someone of whom they had no personal knowledge. I am humbled and grateful to them all for tending me during this frightening ordeal, and believe me when I say it was frightening.
The end of part one.
I hesitate to refer to this post as “my story” as that indicates fiction, and this is not a fictional account.
Please accept my apologies for not completing this article in a single post. I am unable to do so for several reasons. First, I am still recovering and lack the mental and physical endurance to write it all in a single article. Next, just the introduction is already over 1500 words, which is much longer than a blog post should be. Next, it is not yet over, I am still recovering and have a long way to go till I am back to normal, if indeed I ever get there.
I abhor politics. donald trump {capitalization intended} brings home why.
trump, a small-minded vindictive bigot with a vastly oversized ego, has assumed a very big office, which he is using as a bully-pulpit as he proceeds to blatantly disregard various core foundations of the US Constitution.
The U.S.A is supposed to be a country in which Freedom of Speech is a constitutionally guaranteed right. Not according to trump, who has already issued executive orders that attempt to remove this right from crucial governmental agencies and their officials whose findings are at odds with his desires. trump has just attempted to gag the EPA and the USDA. He has also attempted to have the FDA gag the press by denying press passes to reporters who air undesirable views. Yes, another constitutional foundation toppled, namely infringing on the Freedom of the Press.
Welcome to censorship, a system of governmental control with which I already have firsthand knowledge. Do you think censorship is about saving children from seeing things you don’t want them to see? If you do, you are wrong on a myriad levels. Censorship is about controlling access to information. trump doesn’t want the citizens of this country to be well-informed, he wants them to see only what he wants them to see. And what trump wants them to see has very little to do with fact. Unless of course that fact is an “alternative fact” of his manufacture. “In leveling this attack, the president and Mr. Spicer made a series of false statements.” – New York Times. Read the New York Time article, it presents clear, indisputable evidence of the actual facts, and of the false statements.
In case you don’t know what a “false statement” is, I will tell you – it is a LIE.
trump is a liar. Period. Full-Stop. The End. And that is not an alternative fact, it is an indisputable one.
In light of the fact that trump lost the democratic vote by around 2.9 million votes I will never acknowledge him as a legitimately elected president. Another term comes to mind for trump… our new führer has further violated the constitution by refusing to place his personal holdings into a blind trust during his tenure in office. Indeed he went on a spending spree after becoming president-elect, establishing multiple companies in various foreign countries. The conflict of interests this creates is so self-evident I see no point in further investigating it – indeed, it is already obvious trump supporters are incapable of countenancing the truth about their führer.
Führer, I use that term intentionally. As I stated in a post written almost a year ago, the similarities between trump and Hitler are frighteningly obvious. My youngest daughter and I were discussing the Nazi regime, in particular how such unbelievable cruelty could go unchecked. I suspect the majority of Germans knew nothing about the Holocaust until long after the war ended. I suspect they were victims of rampant unchecked governmental censorship, along with a steady diet of alternative facts. I suspect the fascists controlled everything the German people thought they knew.
What is a “fascism“? As defined by Wikipedia, “Fascism /ˈfæʃɪzəm/ is a form of radical authoritarian nationalism…” Sound eerily familiar? It should, since a radical authoritarian nationalist supported by vehement nationalists currently occupies the White House. Lest you think trump’s supporters are patriots, let me dissuade you by giving you my personal definition of what a true patriot is.
A patriot is one who cares enough about their country to ensure it does good, not one who does what their country says without caring if it is good.
trump will do no good for the United States therefor he is no patriot, nor has he ever been one. trump may make himself a lot of money by ignoring constitutional safeguards against obvious conflicts of interest, but he won’t enrich America. There is only one thing trump has ever put first, and that is trump.
Until the trump administration is terminated, prepare to watch catastrophic events unfold. Unfortunately, no matter how soon trump’s administration ends, irreparable damage has already been done to US prestige throughout the world. Under a trump administration enormous damage will be done to civil liberty, our viability as a world leader, our wealth as independent citizens, and our environment. That last sentence is not a statement of facts, it is my predictions of our future. We need to change this future, FAST! I believe the only way we can do that is by ejecting trump.
The USA is in dire straits. No decent person can possibly justify ignoring the excessive abuses of power already committed by trump. Namely curtailing Freedom of Speech, infringing the Freedom of the Press, violating Constitutional bars against Conflicts of Interest. Nobody should be exempt from the supreme law of the USA, and that law is the Constitution. trump clearly holds himself above it, I wonder where he holds you?
Though trump’s era will not end well, it needs to end soon. Does the Republican dominated government have the moral courage to stand up to a vindictive fascist bully? Sadly I think they’ve already shown they don’t – they are too busy pushing their own agendas to do the right thing – which is to impeach this despicable bigot.
In closing, let me ask you this. What good has trump ever done for anyone besides himself? I think you will be hard pressed to answer, but this might help you start this fruitless search.
My current WIP is an expansion of a short Fairy Tale I wrote some time ago, called A Crystal Tear.
Attention to detail is far too important to me to allow me to ever be a prolific writer. To illustrate this allow me to convey a conversation that took place over a year ago, in which the question of the target audience for A Crystal Tear arose. The conversation is almost verbatim, though the nitpicker in me demanded I correct a few typos and make a few minor modifications for clarity.
My Friend: You mention it will be a children’s fairy tale. Firstly you need to establish what age group you want to target, or think will appreciate this more. Obviously fairy tales are written to be read to children of all ages, but the content must be understood.
My response: mmm, I really really dislike putting things into neat little boxes like, “7 to 10 year olds”. Instead let me tell you what my intentions are.
First, to return people to the magical moments of their childhood, before they were taught to doubt the everyday magic that surrounds us.
Second, to encourage parents to read to their children. Perhaps that is who I’m really targeting – the parents of young children, say in the 4 to 7 year range. I want to give those parents the chance to introduce the magic of imagination into their children’s thought processes instead of taking magic away by giving them technological gadgets that simply cannot replace imagination, and probably suppress it.
With those goals in mind A Crystal Tear should raise questions from both parent and child. I want to encourage the child to ask, “Are fairies really just dragonflies?” which allows the parent to answer, “What do you think?”
I’d like to create conversations that flow both ways, where the parents can ask questions intended to reveal the things their children cherish. Like, “Have you ever seen something no one else has seen?“, in order to allow the child to answer, “Yes! All the time…”
Another goal is to introduce words and concepts the kids definitely won’t know, specifically to encourage meaningful dialogs that are powerful bonding opportunities.
I guess the goal of A Crystal Tear isn’t a set age group at all. Perhaps it is to reintroduce magic into the mundane, technology suppressed minds of both parents and children?
{P.S. Magic truly is everywhere, all we need to do is look for it and we find it. I intend A Crystal Tear to be an illustrated children’s book. Many of the illustrations will be photographs of apparently mundane things, within which magic waits to be discovered, revealed, seen, and appreciated. My youngest daughter, Julia, is creating transitional sequences from some of these photographs. Those sequences are intended as prompts to help young minds see the incredible, magical beauty that dwells in the most mundane. Most of the photographs won’t have transition sequences, those are the ones where you can ask your child what they imagine could be there – while understanding there are no wrong answers in our imagined thoughts. We often look at clouds and see shapes, but those shapes are everywhere. A Crystal Tear is intended to ignite and encourage the imaginations of our young in a way that video games and cell phones simply cannot. Please give your child’s imagination an encouraging boost – you’ll open up wonderful scenes that live forever in their minds.
Remember… a world without art is both dismal and dark, a world without art, is a world without heart.
Even with the help of my daughter Julia converting photographs into artwork, this will be no easy task so please wish me luck!}
We’re forgetting something we should never forget…
We’re throwing out the trash, by sharing it with the world…
We’re letting it go, without thought of who’ll catch it…
Closure, such a buzzword that means so… well, it means so nothing at all.
Emotion has never operated with the click of a closing door. Emotions… we can’t close them out, but we can close them in…
Forgive me for saying what I feel on my blog. It isn’t intended as a criticism of you, the way you are, or the way you think – it is a criticism of the way we’re instructed to think and the way we’re told we should feel.
Today is the last day any of my work will be enrolled in Amazon’s Kindle Select program for authors, and its Kindle Unlimited program for readers. This post attempts to explain why.
First. Kindle Select pays authors based on the number of pages read, not on the number of pages re-read. My work is not in the mainstream, and it never will be. Malmaxa isn’t banal or easy to read, but strangely enough a consistent theme of readers is that once they’ve read it they read it again, and then they often read it again. I don’t think many books do that, but I know mine do.
Next. I don’t subscribe to competitions in which the winners take all, while all the other competitors support said winners and get nothing in return. Unfortunately that is precisely what Kindle Unlimited is – a very small number of authors are rewarded financially, while Amazon gets to advertise how its Kindle Unlimited members can read books from thousands of authors, for free. Essentially this is a situation in which thousands of authors support a numerically insignificant number of big winners, while getting nothing in return. Would you be a member of Kindle Unlimited if Amazon told you “You get to choose from a few hundred books!“? I don’t think so – the draw is freedom to choose from a massive pool. But remember, though the pool before you is massive, you only get to drink a few drops.
Finally… Kindle Select requires Amazon to be the only place your digital work is sold. I find that to be a severe restriction of freedom and am not willing to be bound by it. Interestingly enough Amazon is currently the only place you can purchase my work in eBook format. Now you might think that since Amazon is the only place you can buy it, it would be no loss for me to remain enrolled in KDP Select. In a way you’re correct, it would be no monetary loss since it doesn’t cost anything to be in it. In another way you’d be incorrect, it would be a loss of principle and I’m not willing to do that. The forced elimination of competition is not a good thing, and that is precisely what KDP Select does – it prevents authors from engaging with Amazon’s competitors.
I guess the bottom line is that I’m as selfish as the next person. I want my readers to be my readers. I want my writing to touch them in ways they have never been touched before. I want them to want to read my words again, and every time they do, for them to find something new. I want them to possess my work, as much as my work possesses them. I don’t want drive-by readers who skim over my words without taking them in. I want readers who care, and the bottom line is that I don’t think Kindle Unlimited helps me find them.
If only I knew what did…
{P.S. There is lots you can read for free right here on my blog. There is poetry, if you’re into that. If you’d like to read the start of Malmaxa you can do so at the following two links, right here, right now, and completely free. Beltamar’s War, and my personal favorite excerpt from the same book.}
What is it about? It’s about a world changing for the worse, it’s about the abject failure of the US political system, and most important of all, it is about a turning point for humanity.
My youngest daughter, Julia, asked me, “Why bother writing it if all it will do is make people angry?” A guiding principle in my life precludes me from remaining silent the way far far too many of us will and are already doing, “All it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing.” I already have a terrible struggle believing I am a good man. Indeed, that statement isn’t quite true. I know I am not a good man and I have a terrible struggle keeping guilt at bay. That is how it should be. We should not receive a free pass from our conscience, for if we did then what purpose would our conscience serve?
Divided we conquer, united we fall. No, I didn’t make a typo, that is the way the political “elite” play with the minds of the electorate. Those in power and those struggling to get into power know the best way to stay or get there is to divide the voters. When we are divided, they conquer. When we are united, they fall. They divided us, and they have won again.
We recently elected an example of all the most despicable traits humanity possess rolled into a vile ball that goes by the name of Donald Trump. Only we didn’t – the Electoral College did that. The majority of Americans, myself included, did not vote for Donald Trump. Trump lost the democratic vote by around 2.9 million votes. Trump lost, but he is going to assume the role of President of the United States anyway.
Is this democracy? No, it is not.
Ask yourself how it is that some people’s votes are worth less than others? How is it that where we live determines how much influence our vote has? I wonder if anyone else sees the similarity between this abominable fact and the early days of the US Constitution, in which certain people were counted as only three-fifths of other people?
Let me be clear. I did not vote for Hillary Clinton, I voted against Donald Trump. Like the vast majority of Americans I am sick of the “politics as usual” spew both political parties ram down our throats. I am tired of the divisive nonsense that rears its ugly head every election year. Was I enamored with Hillary Clinton? Not by a long chalk. However from virtually the first time I saw him on television I have been utterly appalled by the nasty little man who will now assume the role of President of the United States of America. In my personal life I don’t tolerate erratic vacillating liars, braggarts, racists, sexists, bullies, or bigots – and as evidenced by the spew that constantly issues from his own mouth Donald Trump is all of those, and worse.
How about Hillary Clinton? Let me put it this way. I read a lot of propaganda that alienated me against her {it now turns out a significant portion of that propaganda originated from Russia}. However every time I saw her on television I saw a consistently thoughtful, considerate and polite person, with whom I often did not agree. To me it soon became obvious that the “evidence” against Clinton was allegation, misdirection, and blatant propaganda. I ultimately realized there is an enormous difference between hysterical allegations made by biased people, and evidence that pours out of a bigot’s mouth – ugly and plain enough for everyone to see.
Trump continues to condemn himself with the horrible, abhorrent things he says.
As for those of you who voted for this despicable monster? You don’t get a pass.
You can’t brush your choice aside by saying, “I’m not like the small group of racists at Trumps rallies.” You heard and saw Trump inciting racial, religious, and sexual bigotry multiple times, yet you still voted for him – therefore you are like them.
You can’t allege Trumps democratic loss by around 2.9 million votes is “Sour grapes from sore losers.” Those are definitive votes cast by people who should have an equal say in the election of their President, however they don’t. If you say those votes shouldn’t count equally, then you have abandoned the guiding principle of democracy.
You can’t allege “voter fraud“, because if such a thing truly exists then logic asserts that as much of said voter fraud will exist on both sides of the political divide.
Let me me ask you some simple questions. Would you leave someone like Donald Trump alone with your wife or your female friend? What would you do if you discovered your boss habitually sexually assaulted your fellow workers, while blowing off his behavior as “locker-room talk“? Would you stand by and do nothing as a vindictive bully attacked people and principals you respect? Would you want someone like Donald Trump for a friend?
I think your answers to those questions say an enormous amount about your character. I wonder if you’ll still be able to convince yourself you’re a good person when you realize you voted for the precise opposite of a morally decent one? I wonder if you’ll be able to open your mind enough to realize what you have done, and where it leads not only the United States, but the entire world. I wonder.
Does Donald Trump deserve a chance? Since he has already squandered multiple chances, he does not.
Remember, all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing. Staying silent about Donald Trump’s abhorrent behavior, is doing nothing.
As promised, one of my personal favorite excerpts from Beltamar’s War follows this post. It’s from a section titled “Of Dragon, and Eternity”. Things are not as simple as they first seem.
Although my writing doesn’t pay the bills, it does sooth the soul. Recently my soul has been in sore need of soothing, so I took up the paused editing of “Malmaxa II – The Pilgrimage” in earnest. The fruit of my efforts is its re-release – links appear at the end of this post.
Four years of editing is a long time… However that time has let me come back and experience my own writing as a reader might. When did my writing get so sad? It didn’t get sad, it has always provoked thoughtful sadness. That is just the way it is.
Just the way it is…
That statement makes me reflect on what my writing actually is, which I’m going to share. Since I can only speak for myself it might mean something completely different to you. I’d love to hear what you have to say about it.
Malmaxa is published under the Fantasy Genre. But is Malmaxa fantasy? No, it isn’t. So why did I publish it as Fantasy? Because there isn’t a genre that fits what Malmaxa reallyis. In a world that seems to demand conformity, Malmaxa simply doesn’t conform. I’ve called the genre into which it might fit, “Philosophy, couched as Fantasy“. However Malmaxa isn’t really even that.
So what is Malmaxa?
Malmaxa is a look at the nature of people. It is an examination of motive. It is an investigation into love. It is a tale told by an alien soul. It is a love story, a mystery, a tragedy, but more than anything Malmaxa is a work that tries to provoke introspection. It is something that attempts to teach us about ourself, about why we are the way we are, about why we do the things we do, about why we embrace self-deceit, but above all those things Malmaxa is about why love is the meaning we’ll find in everything that truly matters to us.
A young author I respect wrote a review I really enjoyed reading, her name is Amira Makansi and her review of Beltamar’s War is here. Amira described it as a book in which “Nothing really happens“. I smiled. You see, that description provoked a line from Malmaxa, “Perception modifies truth.” In a way, Amira is right – in fact her review is spot on, she sees the questions the book raises and raises meaningful questions about what she sees.
In my opinion our society places inordinate value on action, a perception that has seeped into our thinking. We’ve been taught to expect “things” to happen, if you’re looking for that sort of traditional action, you won’t find much of it in Malmaxa.
So, no action? 🙂 Another smile…
The vast majority of the action you’ll find in Malmaxa happens in the minds of the characters as they try to make sense of the behavior of other characters. Indeed, if my writing works, you’ll spend a lot of your time in the heads of a lot of people, and you’ll be as confused as they are. However you’ll be confused for an entirely different reason. Why? As the reader you’re privy to the thoughts of every character, you know what they’re all thinking. Malmaxa’s characters aren’t, they are restricted to what they see and what they think, and worse, they are restricted by what they think they see.
In our minds is where we construct the world in which we live, and the world in which we live is different for us all. I guess that is what my writing is really about. The fictitious world of our private thoughts that are more real than the ground beneath our feet.
Where do you really live? On the Earth? Or in your mind?…
Where do you really dream? In your bed? Or in your heart?…
That is what Malmaxa is really about – the places we really live, and where we really dream.
Now, since I said I’d include one of my favorite parts of the first book in this post, here it is. It is from a section titled “Of Dragons, and Eternity”.
Selene sat up and looked about curiously. From the dim light and the overhead rock formations, she knew she must be in a cavern, but had no recollection of how she came to be here.
She felt nothing.
No heat, no cold, no breeze, just… nothing.
Vaguely concerned, she looked down at her legs. They lay flat on the ground. Lifting one, she let it fall. It smacked into the stone floor with an audible, meaty smack but with no sensation of impact. She stood up, disquiet increasing, clenched her fists, and looked at her hands. Nothing unusual struck her, they were just… her hands. With her right hand she took a fold of flesh on her left arm and pinched, hard.
Nothing.
Now thoroughly alarmed, Selene heard her heart thumping loud in her chest, yet she could not feel its beats. Frantic, she glanced about. Her mind, normally so disciplined, had become almost incoherent with fear. In an attempt to calm herself she breathed deep. She realized she could hear her breath, but not feel it.
Strangely, this knowledge soothed her. She relaxed, hearing the muscles in her neck lose tension with slight, crackling pops as she rolled her head. I can hear, but not feel. What a strange way to live.
Another thought immediately followed.
It seemed somehow foreign, Live? You do not live, prey. You walk the pathway to Eternity.
The thought echoed, as though reflected back from the cavern’s walls.
Surprised, Selene thought, Why would I have thoughts… I do not have?
With an element of mimicry, the foreign thought responded, Why would I… converse with prey?
Hearing a scraping noise, Selene turned toward the sound. An enormous form lumbered toward her. Its golden eyes, split by the vertical slash of a pupil blacker than pitch, fixed upon her. Its forked tongue flicked in and out as it sampled the air. It seeks my scent!
Selene froze motionless in place as she thought, A Dragon!
The foreign presence responded, Dragon? Does Dragon move, prey?
Selene’s fear filled mind screamed, Yes!
The Dragon stopped. The thought presence, again, Does Dragon move, prey?
Heart thumping.
No sensation of its beats, but heard, and loud, so loud the Dragon must surely hear.
Fearfully, lest Dragon hear her and attack, Selene whispered her thought, No…
The foreign thought, I… am Dragon. You… are prey.
Selene’s knees buckled beneath her. She sat with an audible thump. Although her teeth clicked aloud from the jarring impact she perceived no pain. Resigned to her fate, she looked directly at Dragon, It will kill me now.
The return thought came immediately, Kill you, why?
Selene’s surprised thought answered, To eat me!
Dragon responded, Eat you? Why, when it grants no satisfaction? I cannot taste your flesh, catch scent of your blood, or feel the joyous crunch of your flimsy bones breaking between my jaws.
Selene relaxed, This is just a dream. I’m safe.
Dragon responded, You are wrong, yet you right. This is no dream, prey. You are already dead, as am I. This is the Hallway to Eternity. Yet you are indeed safe, for nothing can harm those who are already dead.
Again Selene asserted, This is a dream!
Thoughts whimsical, Dragon responded, Would that it was. This is the path between the instant that is life, and the Eternity that is Death. My mate and I spent our moment in life. Preceding me into death, he traversed these halls before me. I seek his scent, that I might share Eternity with my beloved. Yet, I smell nothing.
The Dragons forked tongue flicked out, tasted the air, and retracted.
Though wordless and without coherent thought forms, an intensely emotive emanation issued from the Dragon. It conveyed enormous sadness, along with deep distress.
Watching the Dragon’s actions, while perceiving its pain, brought Selene to pity, Poor thing, to be trapped in this strange dream with me.
Surprise sufficient to displace the distress immediately registered in the foreign thought.
A heartbeat of stillness.
A moment later Dragon’s thought came, Strange indeed… to be pitied by prey. Do not pity me, prey, for I… am Dragon.
Indignant anger flushed Selene’s cheeks, I am Selene, not prey!
Surprise increased in Dragon’s thought, Prey… bear names?
Selene pointed to her mother’s mark with one stiff, angry finger, Yes! We bear names! I bear the marks of my family, all named.
The Dragon took two quick strides toward Selene. Each pace would easily have covered five of Selene’s.
Involuntarily, Selene scooted back on the ground, fear immediately replacing her anger.
Dragon halted its approach.
A soothing thought, Fear not… Selene. I wish only to behold these… these much-loved marks.
Selene relaxed as best she could.
The Dragon approached, very close. Tilting its head to the right, the massive beast turned to looked down at Selene through its left eye. The vertical slit of its pupil contracted then widened slightly as the Dragon struggled to focus on Daniskira’s mark.
For several heartbeats, nothing.
Finally, Dragon’s thought came.
Thirihshhastra.
Confused, Selene formed the strange, sibilant word in her mind, Thirihshhastra? I don’t know this word. Yet, it is pleasing, and soothing both. I would know what it means?
An inexplicable thrill filled Selene. She repeated the name in her mind several times before speaking it slowly, and aloud, “Thirrr eeeh ssshhh huhzz trahh.” The way it rolled off her tongue proved even more joyous than its echo within her thoughts.
Surprised, Thirihshhastra thought, A sound, reminiscent of my name.
Selene turned to look directly into the Dragon’s eye and thought the name as she vocalized its sound again, “Thirihshhastra.”
The expression within the enormous eye conveyed unmistakable amazement.
Thirihshhastra thought, Selene! You have the gift of speech?
Filled with a joy she could not comprehend, Selene grinned broadly and vocalized her thoughts into joyous words, “Of course I can speak, Thirihshhastra!”
Thirihshhastra took two quick paces backwards, shock and dismay evident in her responding thought, The prey curses my name!
In an instant Horror erased Selene’s grin.
Selene snapped her mouth shut, and thought, No! No! I only spoke my thought aloud. Sorry, Thirihshhastra, I am sorry.
Conflicting emotions filled Thirihshhastra’s emanation. Anger, fear, suspicion, and most dominant, confusion.
After a few loud, unfelt heartbeats, Thirihshhastra’s thought came, While baring your teeth in attack, you made terrible sounds and uttered the likeness of my name. What could this be, but a curse?
Selene quickly covered her mouth with her hand to hide her relieved smile. She suppressed her desire to speak the words and thought them instead, I smiled with wonderful joy, and said the words rather than thinking them. It was no curse, believe me.
Thirihshhastra’s pensive thought, I am in your thoughts, Selene. Thoughts cannot lie.
After a few heartbeats of hesitation, Thirihshhastra’s further thought came, After the joyous sound that was the semblance of my name… well, that such a horrific noise is your speech surprised me. Adding to my confusion was your, ‘smile’.
Puzzlement evident in Thirihshhastra’s emanation, she contemplated the strangeness of the tiny being before her. After a few moments her further questioning thought came, Your kind bears its fangs in joy, not in readiness for attack?
Brow creasing in concern, Selene thought, I was happy so I smiled, nothing more. If you are prepared… I shall do so now.
A hesitation.
After a few moments, Thirihshhastra’s thought, I am prepared.
Selene uncovered her mouth, her smile erased by Thirihshhastra’s distress. Gazing into the Dragon’s eye, Selene once more spoke her name, gently, “Thirihshhastra.”
The joy within the sound brought back Selene’s smile.
Thirihshhastra’s thoughts bore understanding, though she flinched at Selene’s smile.
After a moment’s hesitation Thirihshhastra again approached close to Selene, focused her eye on Daniskira’s mark, and thought, Selene, you say the marks of your family are all named. What is the name of this mark?
Puzzled, Selene responded, All in my family are named and I wear their marks, with honor. The mark you look upon is the symbol of my mother, Daniskira.
Comprehension filled Thirihshhastra’s thought, along with surprised pleasure, Daniskira? A beautiful name, worthy of Dragon. It rolls… like thunder in a distant storm.
After gazing at Daniskira’s mark for several heartbeats, Thirihshhastra lowered her eye, And what of this mark?
Selene checked where Thirihshhastra gazed before thinking, That is the symbol of my grandmother, my mother’s mother. Her name is Zunesan.
Thirihshhastra backed up slightly. Head still cocked to one side, she looked one-eyed at Selene, And where is your symbol, Selene?
Selene smiled at Thirihshhastra, who barely flinched this time.
After a brief pause Selene realized the Dragon was not joking. She shook her head, I only get my mark when I am twelve cycles old, silly.
Thirihshhastra thought, When you are twelve cycles of cold? How many cycles of cold are you now, Selene?
Puzzled, Selene thought, Cycles old, cycles of cold? Yes, from winter to winter is one cycle. I gain my sixth marks on the morrow. I will be six cycles of cold very soon, Thirihshhastra.
A veil fell over Thirihshhastra’s mind. Though Selene perceived no discernible thoughts, tangible sadness emanated from the Dragon.
In order to distract herself from the Dragon’s distress Selene thought of Eden and their mischievous play together, Our grand adventure with the Segattoo blossoms. How did that end?
Thirihshhastra interrupted Selene’s thoughts with her own, guarded and framed in careful forms so strongly reminiscent of decorum that Selene forgot about Eden as she concentrated on the Dragon’s thoughts.
The name of my mate is Hithrathra. We have borne three progeny, Selene. I will not name them, for they are still trapped in time’s flow and alive.
Knowing Thirihshhastra shared something important, but confused as to what it might be, Selene instead framed a polite thought in as decorous a fashion as she could. Hithrathra, a beautiful name, and fitting for one so mighty as a Dragon.
The emanation of sadness from Thirihshhastra deepened, Hithrathra… would that I could taste his scent, one last time. But it is not to be.
Sympathy filled Selene, The memory of Hithrathra brings you great sadness. That I provoke such thoughts fills me with regret.
Mind still cloaked with a guarding mist, Thirihshhastra looked into Selene’s eye, Though young, you are a powerful being, Selene. Your every thought inspires. It is not my thoughts of Hithrathra which sadden me, Selene… it is my thoughts of you.
Emotionally, physically, and spiritually, Selene slumped at this.
Thirihshhastra responded immediately, her wordless emanation gentle and filled with reassurance.
Still puzzled, but with her heart lightening at the Dragon’s emotional support, Selene thought, But I don’t want to make you sad, Thirihshhastra.
For a long while, the Dragon looked at the tiny, yet magnificent being before her. Her thoughts remained guarded, and inaccessible.
When Thirihshhastra’s thoughts became perceptible once more, they were carefully composed and again filled with decorum, Selene, I would that you remember well what I shall impart.
Selene immediately straightened from her slumped position, indignant the Dragon thought it necessary to instruct her to pay close heed, I am listening! Do you think that I might forget?
Thirihshhastra’s emanation contained humor, Very well. You bring me great joy, Selene. Strange… for until our meeting your kind was less than nothing to me. It is not you, but my thoughts of you that so sorely trouble me. I disclosed my name, secure in the knowledge you had departed time’s ever-flowing river and now sit on Eternity’s still bank, beyond life. My mate’s name I imparted, perhaps foolishly, yet in hope that should you meet him herein you might remember me to him. Hithrathra is slain, thus he is beyond mortal harm, and forever safe. Careless as my disclosure may have been, it can bring him no ill. However, you Selene… you walk these halls long before your rightful time ceases. You should not be here, you are… you are but a pup.
Selene could not help but puff her chest out and sit up straighter, making herself larger than she was as she framed an indignant thought, I am no pup! I am nearly sixth-marked!
Thirihshhastra’s thought came, filled with joyous mirth, And you deserve your sixth marks, Youngling. And your own symbol, when that time comes. Me? Well I lost interest in counting my age when I matched Hithrathra, many long cycles past.
Selene instinctively attempted to console the Dragon by framing a reassuring thought, You are not old, Thirihshhastra. My grandfather? Now he is old! His name is Jalgar. She thrust her right shoulder forward and pointed to its second symbol, Were Jalgar my father’s father I would wear his mark here. But Toppie is my mother’s father so I don’t wear his symbol, save within the confines of my heart. Toppie becomes an Elder this Convocation… Why, he will be thirty-six cycles old! Oh… Zunesan will be as well, though she seems young compared to Toppie.
Thirihshhastra’s humorous pleasure was evident in her eye and in her thought, How strange, that your kind can bear two names. Is one name not sufficient?
Selene frowned, Toppie bears but one name, and that is Jalgar.
Thirihshhastra’s massive eye twinkled, Yet you named him twice.
Selene’s frown deepened as she tried to understand the humor filling the Dragon’s emanation.
Thirihshhastra’s eye became serious as she considered what Selene’s puzzled aura imparted. After a long pause for reflection she framed a question, Is one his true name?
Selene’s face reflected her confusion, His true name is Jalgar, but I cannot address him thus, least not till my twelfth marking.
Puzzlement formed within Thirihshhastra eye. After a moment she pressed the matter, You wear his mark in your heart, though not in your flesh. You named two names. Though your mind shows the truth of your thoughts, which proclaim he is Jalgar, within your heart’s bounds, his true name is Toppie. Is this boon in return for me naming my mate?
Utter confusion reigned in Selene’s mind as she struggled to wrap her mind about the thoughts just presented. After a few heartbeats, she smiled in comprehension. Taking care to cover her face with her hand, lest her broad grin distress the Dragon, she thought Perhaps, in some way. Yes. Toppie is our secret name for him, Eden’s and mine. It is used and known only within our family.
Thirihshhastra leaned forward and gently rubbed Selene’s shoulder with her massive jaw. Gratitude accompanied that tender touch, along with the thought, Your Toppie is but a pup to me as well, Selene.
After a few heartbeats of contemplation Thirihshhastra framed another thought, its tone once more replete with decorum, I ceased tallying my age with my first progeny, granted me in the cycle of my match to Hithrathra, at three hundred. My youngest is over that age, long since.
Selene’s eyes grew wide. For a moment she thought the Dragon jested with her, yet Thirihshhastra’s thoughts held only truth.
Thirihshhastra slowly backed away. As she did she unveiled her thoughts completely, Selene, I would linger with you here. We could watch the river’s flow and perceive the changes in its depth, together. We might walk Eternity’s banks, traversing the future and all that is yet to come, for only time before we escaped its flow is denied us. This would be an Eternity of joy fulfilled, for your every thought brings me delight. Sadly, I fear another moment here is too long for you. I grant you my memories. From my birth to my demise. When you are ready… seek them as though they are your own.
Selene felt nothing yet perceived a flow within her mind as her memories seemed to shuffle. The puzzling contradiction of feeling an actual sensation within her mind thoroughly distracted her.
Thirihshhastra noted Selene’s distraction, Now… I do what must be done, to undo what should not be. I regret we part thus, Beloved, yet I can conceive no other way to turn you back from these halls. Selene, hold my memories and our names unto you alone! Farewell, Friend.
With the last word, Thirihshhastra’s demeanor changed in an instant to baleful rage. Jaws wide, monstrous fangs exposed, the Dragon charged Selene with a primal, deafening, and terrifying roar issuing from her gaping maw.
Selene saw Thirihshhastra’s charge and knew it heralded death within the Dragon’s fearsome jaws. Horrific comprehension filled her. Terror overcame her. Sudden warmth flooded her thighs.
The frightening image of Thirihshhastra enraged clouded within Selene’s mind as she fainted from fright.
How can you not hear your soul? Or, perhaps to you the question is “How can you hear your soul?”
In a way I don’t have an answer to either question, yet in another way, I have answers to both.
If you’re fortunate, then at some time in your life something will happen to encourage you to realize there’s a whole lot more to life than mere animated hunks of flesh lumbering about in search of their own hedonistic pleasures. That moment is when you’ll realize you not only have a soul, but that your soul speaks to you. If you make the connection and realization which follows it, then you will be fortunate indeed.
Why? Because everything will change.
The need to claw your way to the top of the heap, regardless of who your talons touch, suddenly falls away. I wonder if you have any concept of how liberating that is? Sadly, the majority of people don’t. How can I say that? Look at the world and you’ll see… so many who think adornments worn on the flesh are more important than feelings that dwell in their hearts. So many who think that things they hold in their hands are more important than those they hold in their heart.
At the time of writing this post I’m halfway through my fifty-sixth year. I was fortunate enough to experience this about five years ago, and it did indeed change everything for me. My old age is good news, since it means it might not be too late for you.
I’ve always tried to be understanding – I haven’t changed, I still try, but now I try harder.
I’ve always tried to be compassionate – I haven’t changed, I still try, but now I try a lot harder.
I’ve always tried to be tolerant – I haven’t changed, I still try, but now I try a whole lot harder.
I’ve always tried to be forgiving – I haven’t changed, I still try, but now I try so much harder.
I’ve always tried to be loving – I haven’t changed, I still try, but now I try to show it, where before I tried to hide it.
I didn’t really believe in souls, but then something happened and I realized the connection we humans have is simply not “normal”. I think that is when I realized what a soul is, and how important they are to our overall well-being. If you’re lucky, something will happen that makes you change.
Life is not an “accident”, it is something wonderfully mysterious, and it truly matters. All life, not just ours. Please think about that.
I listen to mine soul now, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to live without its counsel. I hope you hear yours, and that it changes your life as positively as hearing mine has changed mine.
We are hedonists, one and all, some of the flesh, some of the soul, even the heart its love, doth wish to impart, and of another, imbibe.
Oh, and no. This has nothing to do with religious dogma, as evidenced by the multitudes of the religious who blatantly flaunt their worldly wealth. No, it has only to do with your soul. I wonder? Are you one of the fortunate? Of course you are, yet which type of fortunate are you?
No job is worth a life, yet in the USA more and more jobs demand precisely that. Indeed, to me it seems likely many countries that have embraced capitalism as the basis of their social system make similar demands of their citizens.
Are these harsh words? I don’t think they are, but they will certainly be unpopular. Why? Well, something that fascinates me is how fanatical capitalists are about the merits of their chosen system. Sadly, that fanaticism reminds me of religious dogma. Have you ever noticed how religiously indoctrinated people are incapable of questioning the most rudimentary inconsistencies of their religion? Furthermore, they seem incapable of differentiating questions about the fundamental basis of their beliefs from attacks upon their deity and themselves. Unfortunately, dogma is that powerful.
In the USA capitalism has become the most prevalent dogma.
Do you doubt me? Let me illustrate my point by invoking a single word. Socialism. Socialism is bad, right? Why? Because it isn’t capitalism? That is dogma – you’re not allowed to even consider alternatives. When you have difficulty thinking about alternatives without feeling you’re somehow betraying your fundamental beliefs, you have been indoctrinated by dogma . {I’m going to revisit this topic in future posts, count on that.)
But, for now, let me get back to the opening assertion in this post
I wonder how many lives have been shattered by the demands of unreasonable employers? I wonder how many people have sacrificed their families and/or their relationships for their jobs? I suspect the number is vastly higher than is morally acceptable.
Am I making this stuff up? Unfortunately I am not, I’m speaking from personal experience gathered over the last two decades. Twenty years spent watching in horror as the quality of the life of everyone I know degrades. It has been particularly bad recently. How bad? Well, in the twelve weeks preceding Thanksgiving, my hands down favorite holiday, I was home for seven days. Total. To be clear, that wasn’t a week of ease spent at home, that was a total of seven days spread out over several bits. But it gets worse. In the two weeks preceding Thanksgiving I worked 162.5 hours. I didn’t have a choice my principals could let me live with, I had to do it. And no – I didn’t do it for the overtime, I did it because my conscience would not let me let the customer down.
My job did that to me, but I will never let it do so again.
So I guess I’ll have to get a new job that allows me to live… It is long past time.
Please don’t think I’m looking for your sympathy, I’m not. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, but I do know that many of you have your own horror stories about what work has done to you or those you love. So no, I’m not looking for your sympathy – I’m looking for your understanding. Sadly, I suspect understanding might be even harder for you to grant.
