Halloween is over and another mundane week is upon me. Speaking of Halloween, I hope you enjoyed the Halloween serial presentation of my short story, "The Cave." If you missed it, you can catch Part 1 here. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. In fact, it IS my favorite. I love the Holiday season, don't get me wrong, but in my opinion its all downhill after Halloween. Thanksgiving makes you fat, Christmas makes you broke, and New Years makes you hung over with the realization the Holidays are over and you have to go back to work. Okay, its not all bah-humbug. I enjoy the other holidays, but in my mind, nothing compares to Halloween, even if I don't get a day off work. We usually go all-out for Halloween at the Braden household. Actually, I go overboard. Big time. I throw theme parties, make haunted houses or generally try to wring as much joy from the day as possible. I sort of lose myself in Halloween. One year, I turned the garage into a haunted house, and then the next year I turned the entire back yard into a haunted house (it was epic!). The neighbors still refer to me as the Haunted House Guy. My party themes have range from Stranger Things to Killer Clown to this year, where I hosted a Bilbo Baggins 111th birthday party. I used to lie to myself and say t was for the kids. Who am I kidding? I'll do it even when the kids are grown up and gone (and they almost are). Why does Halloween appeal to me so much? It's not because its spooky, or there's lots of candy. It isn't because its an excuse to party (okay, maybe just a little). None of these are the reasons Halloween is magical to me. Its because Halloween is about pretending. Its the Imagination Holiday. I think that's why so many people find it appealing into adulthood. It's like a giant cosplay convention. It gives adults a chance to pretend, and by definition, become a kid again. Its also one of the best ways imaginable to connect with your own kids. Kids instinctively know when their parents are enjoying themselves, and love it when parents bond with them on a level they can understand. I love when I see entire families dressed up and trick or treating together. I'm seeing an event the kids will remember for the rest of their lives, and pass on to their kids. It's a deeply good and wholesome thing to witness. My kids always help get ready for Halloween with a zeal that doesn't manifest at Christmas. One of my best memories was oldest bringing all his teenage friends over to work my haunted house. This year while I was putting up Bilbo's birthday banner in the front yard a car passed by very slowly. A young lady had her face plastered against the passenger window, a child's grin plastered ear to ear. Before the car slipped away, her hand emerged from the window with a big thumb's up. She's my people. There are lots like her, those people who instinctually understand the joy of surrendering to your imagination. It doesn't have to end with childhood. In fact, it gets better if you just let it happen. Lots of people don't let it happen. In fact, they don't get it at all. I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for all those teenagers who think they are too cool for Halloween. You know the ones, the kids who walk around like they don't know what to do with themselves. Sometimes they travel in packs with their friends, no costumes, looking out of place and trying to be immune to the fun around them. They want to join in, but they forgot how to. When did it become a right of passage to kill something beautiful in one's spirit in order to transition to adulthood? It makes me sad. Kids, never give up Halloween! Not even if you're a hundred years old. Just as bad are those people who turn off their lights and hide in their houses, unwilling to enjoy themselves or hand out candy. I know its their right, but I still feel sorry for them, too. The time has come to pack the magic back into the attic for another year. As I prepare for the rest of the Holiday Season, I'll look back fondly at this year's Halloween, and bask in the memories of Halloweens past. I'm already thinking about next year, and what new adventures I can cook up. Maybe another haunted house? Maybe a theme party? What will I dress up as? I think I'm quite ready for another adventure! #halloween #imagination #party #cosplay #holiday #essay ***
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In 2011 I sat in a Manhattan publisher’s office pitching my novel to several editors who were supposedly big deals in the publishing business. Everyone at the conference was trying to tie their novels into Game of Thrones, Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, or Ready Player One. My novel? Not so much.
"Where does your manuscript fit on the book shelves?" they asked. "Not next to Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, Walking Dead or Ready Player One," I said. "Its more like Ten Commandments meets The Odyssey." Needless to say, I didn't land a fat publishing contract that week. I can’t remember her name, but one publisher from that conference stands out in my memory. All the female authors who were pitching their novel to her were warned not to show too much cleavage in her presence. I had no cleavage, so I felt confident going in (though I can’t make that claim today). She listened to my pitch with a dour expression, like she had to pass a kidney stone, and then asked me if my novel (Black Sea Gods) was going to be a series. “Three or four novels,” I replied. “The first novel is complete, the second well underway.” “Too ambitious for a new author,” she scoffed, and summarily dismissed me. And thus ended my attempt to get The Chronicles of Fu Xi traditionally published. Every new word added to the Chronicles of Fu Xi, Book IV’s manuscript is a blow against Anti-Cleavage Lady. Take that, mammary hater! Sometimes that moment in New York drives me onward, just to prove her wrong. Actually, she was probably right. I should have started my writing career on something a little less ambitious, and a lot more commercially viable. If I wanted a traditional publishing contract, a historical fantasy, set in central Asia, and bordering on literary fiction probably wasn’t the place to start. Not that any of that matters now, I’m committed. The Chronicles of Fu Xi, Book IV is well underway. This story must be told. I completed 2000 words this weekend and two more chapters in the can. That brings the word count to 22,000. The writing is coming easier now, and it isn’t. When I write, I have Books I-III open on my desktop, plus The Golden Princess, trying to avoid plot holes. It’s a Herculean effort to keep characters straight, events lined up, and everything in sync. I think it’s working. I’m back in the groove. Regardless, it's ambitious, to say the least. Anti-Cleavage Lady's warning echoes in my mind. One major change came out of this weekend’s efforts…I’ve changed the last novel’s title. It was going to be “The Children of Fu Xi”, but I’ve ditched that. That title was suggested many years ago by an editor, and I kept it in my back pocket. I’m not going to divulge the new title until the publication date approaches. However, it ties the final novel back to the first novel and sounds great. That’s all I have for today. I’ve got to keep my energy focused on the writing. However, if you haven’t picked up the series, you really should. There are three ways to start: First, you can get copy of Black Sea Gods, the first installment in the series, Second, you can buy a copy of the prequel, The Golden Princess. If you really want a treat, get the Audible copy of The Golden Princess, narrated by the BBC’s Philip Battley. You will not regret it, he sounds great. I’ll see you later this week for another installment of Photography Phriday. *** If you enjoyed this blog, please like the post and leave a comment or if you're feeling brave, share it on social media. This platform is my entire advertising budget and is how I share the word on my books. Also visit my Facebook, my author page and check out my photography book from America Through Time, "Abandoned Wiregrass: The Deepest South's Lost and Forgotten Places." #books #blackseagods #writing #philipbattley #audiobooks #epic #fantasy #epicfantasy I was going to write a blog this morning either about the function of faith in civilization or how left-lane drivers really irritate me. Guess which topic won? (Sung to the tune of “Life in the Fast Lane” by the Eagles) He was a slow-driving man He was brutally oblivious, and she was terminally texting, She held them up, and he braked for no reason In the heart of the slow, slow traffic. They had one thing in common. They didn’t know how to use a turn signal "Slower, Slower the lights are turnin' red!” Life in the left lane, surely make you lose your mind. Bad lyrics and kidding aside, left-lane drivers drive me nuts. I suspect I’m not alone . There are many more eloquent than I who have commented on those who park in the left lane and don’t move over. I try not to let them annoy me anymore, because nothing is going to change the fact they will always be with us. You see, left-lane driving is proof of the existence of original sin. (stay with me here) When Jesus said “The poor will always be with you” I think he also meant a lot of things people do will always be with us. You see, in most cases we humans are taught what’s right. Logically, we know what is good and bad. Wash your hands before you eat. Don’t mix beer and wine. Watch what you eat. Murder is bad. Never get involved in a land war in Asia. Don’t hang out in the left lane. Yet, we do it all anyway. When one hangs out in the left lane, and people start resorting to passing on the right it’s a clue you’re doing something wrong. But I'm not not really just talking about left-lane driving, its about following rules. When I say "follow rules", I’m not referring to high-minded concepts like civil disobedience and rebelling against tyranny. I’m talking about following speed limits, not littering, flushing the toilet and putting the twisty tie back on the bread bag. I'm referring to responsible civic-mindedness. The simple stuff and the blatantly obvious. Most people see the wisdom in following traffic rules, or most civic rules. However, some people think rules are for other people. This attitude is neither malicious nor uncommon. It’s just being human. What isn’t discussed much about this phenomenon is that people who think this way often think consequences are for other people, too. This is at the heart of what I’m trying to get across. A few years back I took my three young children to the park. A ring of signs clearly stated pets were not allowed in the playground areas, and 99% of the greater park was open to pets including two dedicated dog parks. While my children played, a woman strolled right into the playground area with a Great Dane on a leash, sat on a bench, and stuck her face in her phone. The horse-dog then proceeded to urinate and defecate where the children played. She thought the rules didn’t apply to her, nor did the consequences. The kids stepping the animal waste paid the price, not her. I’m not judging her, because I’ve been her before in regards to other infractions. I think we all have, to some degree or another. We’ve all bent, ignored, or consciously blown-off common sense rules put in place to protect others and ourselves. Sometimes the consequences may be something smelly and squishy between our toes, and sometimes it’s far worse. A few weeks ago I witnessed an accident where a young woman decided to pass on a two-lane blacktop in a no-passing zone. She was approaching a limited-sight hilltop at full highway speeds and decided to pass a the vehicle in front of her. And pass she did, and immediately collided head-on with an automobile pulling out onto the highway. The no passing zone was clearly marked. Common sense says passing when approaching a hilltop is a bad idea. Yet, she did it anyway, and horror resulted. Why do we do it? We want rules. We elect politicians to make laws. We hire bureaucrats to regulate us. We want our police to enforce them. Yet, as individuals we often brush rules aside, sometimes cavalierly, like it’s cool. When we step in dog crap in the playground, or get stuck behind the guy driving five miles an hour under the speed limit in the left lane, we shake our fists and wonder why people can’t follow the rules. Then there are those times when tragedy strikes because someone decided the rules didn’t apply to them. All of us take a bite of Eve’s apple from time to time and end up hanging out in the left lane. It’s in our DNA. It’s a flaw in our programming at the deepest level. This inherent flaw, dare I say sin, of willful disobedience is fundamental human nature. No number of laws, rules or regulations or screaming at the car in front of you will change it. So stop screaming at the guy in the left lane, or you’ll surely end up losing your mind. You're not going to change him. Maybe we need to work harder on changing our own behavior. In life, the only driver you can control is yourself. #traffic #essay #orginalsin #sin #culture #society #issue #faith #religion *** If you enjoyed this blog, please like the post and leave a comment or if you're feeling brave, share it on social media. This platform is my entire advertising budget and is how I share the word on my books. Also visit my Facebook, my author page and check out my photography book from America Through Time, "Abandoned Wiregrass: The Deepest South's Lost and Forgotten Places." This article is reprinted from a previous blog. I killed off that blog because it had become sentient and tried to take over the world. Enjoy. We were expecting a new baby and my lovely bride’s nesting instincts kicked into high gear. She didn’t want to bring a new baby home to a dirty house, so she called a maid service and told me to take the kids and get lost for about four hours.
I had planned a day in the park, but Mother Nature had other ideas. Cold rain and sleet pelted the city all day. Then I had a great idea: I’d take the boys to the public library! I hadn’t been to a library in years and was looking forward to the experience. My kids quickly found books and quietly settled in for a good read. Not possessing a library card, I headed for the front desk. The bespectacled gentleman behind the desk kindly directed me to a table covered with application forms. It was fairly standard – name, address, phone number, e-mail. I quickly filled out the form and signed my John Hancock on the bottom, signifying my understanding the library police would find me if I was late returning a book. I returned to the desk where the same gentlemen carefully inspected my form. “Would you like internet access, sir?” “Yes, certainly.” “Then you’ll have to fill out the back, too.” “Oh, okay.” I flipped the form over. With the exception of a question asking what password I wanted and what level of internet access I desired, the form was almost identical to the front. I went back to the table and wrote in a password I could easily remember and checked my desired access level. I returned to the gentlemen behind the counter, who inspected the back of the form. “You need to write down your name, address, phone number and e-mail address.” I was a little perturbed, but didn’t show it. “All that information is on the front of the form. Do I have to fill out the name and address information again?” “Yes, please.” “Ah...okay.” A few minutes later I was back with my library card form, both front and back completely filled out. The diligent municipal civil servant carefully eyed both sides of the form for well over a minute, turning it over several times and strumming his fingers nervously. I was getting nervous, too. Did he know about all my overdue books from 4th grade? “Sir, I need your full middle name on this line.” “That’s my legal payroll signature block. Why do you need my full middle name?” “I’m sorry sir, but that’s our policy. I need your full middle name.” I sighed and added the rest of my middle name to the initial. “On the back side, too, please.” Keep your cool. “Okay.” Once again he studied the library card form. Chewing on the end of his pencil, he flipped the form back and forth. “I need to see a picture ID.” I pulled out my active duty military identification card and handed it to him. He didn’t give it a second glance and handed it back to me. “Do you have a driver’s license?” “Why yes, I do.” “May I see it, please?” “Why? Won’t my military ID do?” “No.” Resigned, I pulled out my driver’s license. Being in the military, I had a different permanent home of record than my current duty assignment. Since I renewed it in the mail, my license had no picture. He looked at me, looked my drivers license, back to me, then back to the license. “This is out of state and doesn’t have a picture.” “I’ve been stationed here for almost three years. I’m rather fond of my photo on my military I.D, would you like to see that one again?” He handed my license back. “Is this address correct?” “The one on the front or the back of the form?” Alarmed, he quickly turned the paper over, then shot me a nasty look - smartass. I smiled. “Do you have something with your current address on it?” “Yes, you’re holding it.” “No, I mean something official.” I fumbled through my wallet. Funny, but nowhere among the countless unpaid credit cards, membership cards, and receipts did I have anything with my current address on it. “No, I guess not.” “I’m sorry then, but I can’t issue you a library card.” Here I stood, able to produce two legal forms of ID, one of which was the ID card of an active duty military officer in the armed forces of the United States, and I couldn’t get a public library card. “You’re kidding, right?” “I don’t kid about things like this.” “Let me try this again,” I said calmly, “What do I have to do today so I can get a library card and check out some books for my kids so they won’t go home heartbroken?” I really think the guy wanted to help. It was either believe that or strangle him. Looking out the window at the downpour he smiled and asked, “Did you drive here?” After running through the parking lot in the pouring rain, I returned with my car registration; definitive, legal, soggy proof I actually lived where I said I lived. With a self-satisfied smile the Dewy Decimal Defender presented me my library card like a war medal. I looked over my shoulder hoping someone was taking a photo for posterity. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” “Actually, yes there is,” I said, stuffing my new library card in my wallet next to my soaked automobile paperwork. “Get a job at voter registration.” *** If you enjoyed this blog, please like the post and leave a comment or if you're feeling brave, share it on social media. This platform is my entire advertising budget and is how I share the word on my books. Also visit my Facebook, my author page and check out my photography book from America Through Time, "Abandoned Wiregrass: The Deepest South's Lost and Forgotten Places." |
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