Author Archives: Dave

Author, blogger, thinker, developer, and all-around digital creative. Applied theatre professional. Mac enthusiast. Coffee fanatic.

Re-Living Adventures

Running with the theme of letting the imagination run with ideas, I remember something that an old friend once told me. I was frustrated then with having little time to write (ironically, I think back to that period now and wish I had that much time….funny how everything is relative that way), and found what little creative spark I could find squashed by my day job. That was before I had been able to find the interdisciplinary melding points in what I did, and I was looking for some way to let everything fall into place.

His advice to me was to let everything be “grist for the writing mill.”

It was difficult to take his advice then, but in the years since, I’ve began to appreciate his wisdom. One of my resolutions for the new year (or was it the year before…?) was to make time to work on some side projects, projects for which I had good ideas but have never set aside to time to truly develop. Those sorts of projects, I think, are the best sometimes for getting the writing spark lit. As Karen and I have had some quite interesting experiences with living arrangements over the past year, I remembered a shelved project that has been sitting on my desktop for a bit. It’s a collection of humorous experiences that we’ve had at different apartments since we’ve been married. It’s one of those projects for which I’ll very likely never seek publication, but that’s worth compiling if only for a family memoir of sorts to be a source of good memories later.

Or, perhaps the adventures that I recount there will end up on these virtual pages. Who knows?

I think that I’ll carve out some time in the next week sometime to outline some of our experiences and begin writing them down. It will get me back in the frame of mind in which words are flowing out onto the page, at least, and that can lead to all sorts of wonderful things.

Sonic Screwdrivers and Green Monsters

Sonic Screwdriver, a piece of Dr. Who Memorabilia
Karen gave me a sonic screwdriver for my birthday.
That was a couple of months ago, and I’ve been carrying it around zapping things that won’t work ever since. When I have an obsessive compulsive issue and begin worrying that the door isn’t locked securely, I’ll use the sonic screwdriver, because everyone knows that when the Doctor fuses a lock with that gadget, it stays locked.During the move, Karen shook her head at one point and referred to it as my security blanket.

Don’t judge.
This isn’t a reality distortion field, it’s just letting my imagination run a bit. It’s healthy, I think, letting yourself engage in the “what if” sorts of fantasizing that leads to good storytelling.
Over the weekend, I drove by a dark green Hummer that was parked on the curb. In true Bostonian fashion, the license plate indicated that it was a “Green Monstah.” I glanced at it in my rearview as I drove by, and pretended that I could hear it rumbling, the monster beneath pawing the ground to be let out and wreak its havoc at its master’s bidding. Or, perhaps it was a Decepticon-like evil transforming robot that would morph into its true shape to leave collateral damage in its wake as it carried out the mission known only to itself.
As I said, I don’t permit myself to become absorbed in these fantasies at the expense of reality. I will let myself dwell on them when I have some downtime, or when I’m laying in bed trying to fall asleep. This is the stuff from which good writing is born.
What I don’t do is let myself run with it enough. Part of that is a timing thing, but part of it is that I tend to get so bogged down in the tedium of finishing a project that I’m stalled on (like my novel), that I get stubborn and won’t let myself take a break to write other things. The truth is that letting those creative impulses flow uninhibited for even a little while flexes the creative muscles. Just writing this stuff down, without structure or a plan, just to see where it could go, is an excellent exercise, and could turn into an excellent story in its own right at some point in the future.
Being observant of what’s around us is part of what makes a writer a writer (or, for that matter, makes an actor an actor). Letting yourself do something with what you observe, though…that’s where the discipline comes into play, and its that discipline that I’m hoping to cultivate in the coming months.

Un-Packing

Dave, you ask, why is it that you haven’t posted anything for nearly a week?

You weren’t asking that? Oh, well…just pretend that you were for a moment and I’ll humor you with a response.

You see, we’ve been moving.

Again.

I wrote more than one post about the apartment in which we lived for several years in Virginia. I still miss it, actually, because so many huge events in our lives occurred there, not the least of which was the fact that it was where we brought our daughter home to after she was born. I’ve never experienced an emotional problem moving from one apartment to the next in my life, but that particular time I did. We packed our lives in a truck and off to New England we drove, where I have since gone to school for a quick certification and changed careers. That was the first time we had moved in at least four years. That was one year ago.

In that year, we’ve moved two more times. Three moves in one year, one of which was a state-to-state move. First we lived with some family (there comes an age in one’s life beyond which you shouldn’t try that…), then a tiny little apartment reminiscent of our first apartment together that barely fit our basic necessities, and now, finally, into a nice, full-sized place again. I feel as though I can breathe for the first time in a year.

I also feel more than a bit discombobulated.

I’ve always believed that where you are is more that just where you are. Where you live molds some part of who you are, and certainly has had it’s role in molding who Karen and I are as a couple, and now as a family of three. We’re choosy about where we live (which is part of what made the last year so stressful, because being a full-time student drastically limits your ability to be choosy), and choosing to conform our lives to environments that were inhibiting to that negatively impacted us emotionally and spiritually. Such is the sacrifice of going to school, but I hadn’t anticipated that it would be nearly as difficult as it was with a family.

This week, however, though completely exhausted, I’m feeling, for the first time in a year, a sense of normalcy in our lives. As more of our furniture arrives from storage and we can place more and more books back onto shelves and art back onto walls, I begin to feel like Karen and I are regaining a huge part of us to which we haven’t had easy access for a long time. Again, it was a sacrifice, and one that has ultimately paid off, as education always does. I’m just very glad that it’s over.

I’m also very glad that I have hauled my last heavy load upstairs for at least a few days.

And, as the dust settles and my back-aches go away, I’ll be writing more regularly here soon.

A Review of “A Thousand Words for Stranger”

A Thousand Words for Stranger (Trade Pact Universe, #1)A Thousand Words for Stranger by Julie E. Czerneda

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The first time that I read A Thousand Words for Stranger, I was about middle school age. I was pulled in by the title, as I recall, and I loved the book! This was space opera before I knew what space opera was called, and all that I knew was that I loved it. The world of competing cultures and fantastical alien races gripped me thoroughly. I don’t think that I finished the book, which is extremely rare for me (I can count on one hand the number of books that I’ve began but not finished in my life), but, on this recent second reading of the novel, I found that I eventually crossed a point beyond which I remembered nothing.

I also found that the book read quite differently over twenty years later.

I’ll say up front, this is Czerneda’s debut novel, and debut novels seldom carry the strengths of an author’s later works. That disclaimer out of the way, what she does so strongly in this book is to create such a wildly imaginative world (that will be the basis for a series, the rest of which I own but have never gotten around to reading). In these pages you will find creative new aliens, worlds, and cultures, which are painted with prose that, while perhaps not literary genius, certainly has its flashes of brilliance. I had no difficulty soaking in the scenes that were being painted for me here, and, were I to identify a single strength of the author, this would be it.

The alien race with which we become most familiar is the Clan, a race that looks Human, but is a race of reclusive, arrogant, and very powerful telepaths, who consider themselves far above races without telepathic abilities. They look down on the use of technology, seeing it as a tool that inferior races use to place themselves onto somewhat equal footing with more advanced races. This is an interesting theme to develop in a science-fiction novel, that of technology being viewed as inferior to natural, organic abilities. Certainly, it’s been done before, but Czerneda explores it well here.

The theme that she is exploring more than any other, though, is the power of choice, the fight to master one’s own fate. Sira, our protagonist, wakes on a planet with no recollection of who she is, what she is doing…or of what she is capable. When she discovers the truth, finally won as she fights through webs of deception, she discovers that she has become someone entirely new during the journey, someone that she likes better. Will she be able to push back on the powers that seek to set her destiny for her and choose her own? Well, I’ll avoid spoilers, but that should tempt you a bit.

The problem that glared at me reading this as an adult is how Czerneda flirts with a romantic sub-plot (pardon the pun). More than the simple issue that romance is not at all a genre that I read, is the issue that she introduces romantic elements, but never brings them to fruition. Romance is a key conflict for storytelling, but it must be permitted to run it’s course once it has been introduced. Czerneda feels timid in writing this element, seeming to toy with the idea and then retreat, all while leaving us with about one hundred too many references to Morgan’s blue eyes. Perhaps this was a plot point that she was coerced to emphasize beyond what she wished by an editor? In any case, it feels forced, and was distracting enough to pull me away from the story on many occasions.

When I initially placed this book on my Goodreads shelf, I rated it with five stars based entirely on my childhood recollection. Now, with much maturity between readings, that rating falls by two stars. I think that, if you’re interested in reading a story with a very spectacular world, then you should give this a try. I think that the rest of the series will get better, and I hope to make time to read it soon.

View all my reviews