Tuesday, October 16, 2007

10 Swords - Your Chickens Come Home To Roost

As noted previously, this is a chapter in a book about the Tarot aimed at Intermediate students, not beginners or advanced students. It is particularly aimed at writers.

It should eventually be titled: The Biblical Tarot: The Not So Minor Arcana by Jacqueline Lichtenberg, but who knows? It has no publisher yet.

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And Remember: The meaning of a Tarot Minor Arcana resides in the placement on the Tree of Life (i.e. the number on the card) integrated with the "World" or Suit of the card. For the Tree of Life and the Jacob's Ladder diagrams see: http://web.onetel.net.uk/~maggyw/treeladder.html

I don't really go with the way this page explains the Tree, but it is worth thinking about. There are many other ways. For now, ponder the diagrams on this page or google up some others.

Updated and expanded compilation of all these Tarot Just For Writers entries is now available on Kindle:
The Wands and Cups Volumes and  the Swords and Pentacles Volumes, are now all available separately on Kindle.  The 5 Volumes combined are also available on Kindle as one book, cheaper than buying them individually.
The Not So Minor Arcana: Never Cross A Palm With Silver Aug 30, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0108MC26O

The Not So Minor Arcana: Wands Sept. 1, 2015  99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106RVPKU

The Not So Minor Arcana: Cups Sept. 11, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106SATX8

The Not So Minor Arcana: Swords  Sept. 17, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0100RSPM2

The Not So Minor Arcana: Pentacles  Sept. 21, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106RVKF0

The Not So Minor Arcana: Books 1-5 combined Sept. 24, 2015 $3.25
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B010E4WAOU

This series is designed not for the beginner or the advanced student, but for the intermediate student and specifically for writers doing worldbuilding..

------------- 10 Swords -------------
Each person must find a synthesis of those 2 components of meaning for themselves. These essays are mine, not yours. Watch the methodology, do it for yourself, and find your meaning.

You will have to re-do this periodically through life -- because you change, things change, and your ability to synthesize multiple parameters changes. What is true for you today, may or may not be true for you tomorrow.


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10 Swords:

Whee-ha! Whoopie! Yippie! Huzza! GO!GO!GO!

The first copy of your printed book has arrived in the snailmail. You rip the cardboard packing, break a nail, run around in circles screaming for a scissors, jump up and down until the downstairs neighbor yells -- and finally get the package open.

You know there has been no publisher publicity and won't be. You can't afford to do it yourself. But you hoped and prayed and imagined and dreamed through 9 Swords. It's going to turn out fine!

OH GAWD!!!!

"They spelled my name WRONG on the cover!!! We fixed that last month!" or "They changed the cover! There's no naked, chained up woman in MY book!" or "Why-oh-why did they put that wimpish quote on the back cover. I never wrote that!" But checking the printed text, there's the wimpish quote -- checking the manuscript, it's written powerfully. Someone changed the words!

And you're scheduled to do a local access TV appearance tonight with the book in hand and smile evident.

AAAAHHHHGGGGG!

We are now focused on the 3rd circle up from the bottom of the middle pillar of Jacob's Ladder.

It is the 10 of Swords.

Note it overlays the 6 of Pentacles.

Remember, there are no bad Cards.

The Waite Rider deck depicts the 10 of Swords as a figure prone on the muddy ground with 10 Swords piercing the body. It really looks like disaster and death and a lot of people do read it that way -- but that isn't really what this one is about.

10's are about culminations, consequences, results. Finality. Completion.

Swords are thoughts, actions, deeds, plans, and words.

The culmination of your deeds, how exactly your project comes out in the end, depends on several independent variables plus the imponderable of Divine Will.

Now remember, this is mysticism. In the world of magic and mysticism, the outcome of any action depends (after the Divine has a sayso) more on who you are than on what you do.

In the world of science, two different people doing the exact identical thing get the same result, which proves a theory. But in the world of Mysticism, two different people doing the exact identical thing get different results, which also proves a theory.

For example: a guy may have an important job interview, and remember to put gas in his car, get a new suit, a haircut, research the company to a fair-thee-well, and still miss the interview appointment because he had a flat tire (which happens when you've been out of work for a while). He's done every action he can to assure success -- but he misses the interview.

A different guy out of gas by the side of the road would get picked up by a friend and whisked to the interview on time, get the job on the spot -- then put a new tire on the credit card and pay the fine for abandoning the car, and never look back.

It is not possible, from our everyday perspective, to chart the direct cause-effect connections in events like this. If both job applicants have as many friends with cars, why does one get picked up and the other stand alone?

The reasons for that (other than Divine Will) are detailed in the first book in this series, Never Cross A Palm With Silver.

http://www.amazon.com/Never-Cross-Silver-Bible-Tarot/dp/0963749854/rereadablebooksr/

But remember, there are no bad cards. In 7 Swords we learned how to make amends for what we've done wrong, and in the process actually change ourselves on the soul level, which changes how things happen around us. You can argue with the Supreme Being, and Apparently you can win one.

And maybe more crucial, we should think about the two guys above: which outcome is "good" and which "bad?"

Even a very psychic Tarot reader can't tell you exactly what will happen when you pull your latest project through the 10 Swords process. An astrologer might tell you when the crisis will come; a Tarot reader might tell you how it will FEEL to you personally -- but nobody can tell you what will happen or what, ultimately, it will mean for you, good or bad.

That's because there is always the imponderable of Divine Will, and the even more inscrutable issue of human Free Will (yours and others')

Off the top of your head, which job applicant above would you say has a soul at a higher level of development? Which has better karma from good deeds in past lives?

Think about that really hard before you answer.

Now let's look again.

Applicant 1 gets stuck by the side of the road all dressed up, misses the interview. A cop car stops. A beautiful woman in an officer's uniform gets out, calls the tow truck, chats while they're waiting, sparks fly but professionalism is maintained, then she drives away.

At the church social hour the next week, he spots that same woman out of uniform and six months later, he has an even better paying job and they're married.

Applicant 2 who made it to his interview, finds he's now trapped in a dead-end job under the boss from hell, is in debt to his eyebrows and can't quit. His girl left him because his temper is in shreds. Now he's drinking himself to death.

Which one of them did a better job shaping the astral plane foundation of their lives during the 9 of Swords part of this process? Can you even tell from the evidence presented here?

Now back to the writer with a totally screwed up book packaging.

She pastes on a brave smile and presents her book on local access go-nowhere talk show on cable, instantly adopting the misspelled name as her new byline, her pen name as if it were done that way on purpose.

She called her editor and was told the story of the changed cover. The artist who submitted the sketches she had seen didn't deliver (maybe she suddenly got married to the guy she rescued at the side of the road during her day job as a cop). So the publisher had a cover left over from a book that wasn't delivered and they used that cover on her book. Sorry about the overprinting typo, but stuff happens when done at the last minute.

The writer tells this whole horror tale on TV with a chuckle, then exuberantly sketches what her book is REALLY about. Dozens of women log onto Amazon and order the book. (It doesn't take much to send a book to the top of Amazon for a few hours, if all the sales are simultaneous.)

The story of the raunchy cover gets picked up by the big networks. Oprah uses it as a "What's Wrong With Publishing Today" piece. A TV Network exec wants to base a TV series on the novel for Lifetime. The publisher offers six figures for her next book.

Later, she finds out the misspelled byline actually has a numerological advantage over her real name, in addition to attracting attention.

Apparenty, during the 9 of Swords process, this author shaped the "Foundation" of this project on the Astral plane for publicity, and she got it (which may or may not be a "good" thing). How was she able to do this (other than Divine assistance)?

Because in 6 Swords, love opened her to change, in 7 Swords she did what Kaballah calls tshuvah, returning to the connection to the benevolent power behind the Universe by doing good deeds, amending bad habits, cleaning up the messes you have made. In 8 Swords she behaved in a substantially improved way, proving she had changed, and in 9 Swords she was therefore able to shape the Astral in a way very different from what she had done before in other projects in life.

She probably did all that in both the text of the novel itself and in her own life and attitude toward the world in order to get such explosive results.

And don't ever forget the imponderable intervention of the Divine Finger that stirs lives. Her writing career boost might have little to do with rewarding her, little to do with her own skills on the Astral, and everything to do with reaching out to some soul she's harmed in a past life with a healing message of love.

Or perhaps she is merely the vehicle carrying a message to someone who needs to hear it.

The thing to remember through all these processes is that you, yourself, don't control these energies. You don't work the energies to your will. You're not helpless, but you're not in charge of the whole universe, either. You're only in charge of you, and you are very complex.

How any project begun in the Ace of Swords turns out in the 10 of Swords also depends on what your subconscious and your SOUL does during each of the other 9 processes.

Now here's the real problem with this ticklish and difficult 10 Swords process.

Evil.

I did say there are no "bad" Cards. And that's still true.

I did say that you have a choice between living in a zero-sum universe and an abundant universe. And that's still true.

However - there is sticky-nasty stuff out there, and the abundant universe does, (when manifesting on our everyday material level), obey the laws of Conservation (as in thermodynamics).

Conservation of mass and energy, conservation of momentum, all the conservation laws of physics describe a zero-sum universe at least "down here" where we live, the only universe "science" studies.

We can't just dismiss the zero-sum model of the universe if we operate entirely within physical reality. Thankfully, though, we don't have to operate entirely and only within the confines of material reality because we have souls.

You can draw abundance down into physical reality, yes, but you can't have everything you want as long as you live. The rule is you can have anything you want -- provided you're willing to give up everything else for it.

But there are other rules that govern the importing of abundant energies into material reality.

We're going to touch on them here, but they really belong in the advanced level of discussion.

So let's reconstruct our model of the universe to include the interface between our material reality that science studies, which contains all the 10 processes of the Tree of Life, and the much larger reality that is the whole of creation, which is depicted by Jacob's Ladder and the higher levels above the Ladder.

In 10 Swords we come to the level of existence, above the universe science studies, where our actions produce consequences. So far as I know, nobody has ever figured a way to look at an action and determine what consequences it will cause.

There is a postulate about the structure of creation that explains why cause-effect doesn't work above the material world. And that's a postulate about Evil.

What most people mean by the English word Evil isn't exactly what is referred to in this postulate. And this is just my best understanding of the situation at this time. I too am always growing, changing my mind, and gaining new perspectives. I may not have understood what I've been taught; I may not articulate it in a way that you understand it either as what I mean or as what I was taught.

Language is just not the tool to use to convey these ideas. A life of practical actions is the only way I know of to propagate this view of the universe from one mind to another.

OK, so here's the postulate, which by no means belongs to the Intermediate level of study, explained in my own pitifully inadequate words.

In the Beginning, G-d created creation -- the first time He generated the Jacob's Ladder structure, He filled the Sepheroth, also known as Vessels, with Divine Light. And filled and filled to abundance and more.

And the "Vessels" shattered from the pressure.

This produced a kind of amorphous plasma, a roiling boiling fog, a heaving sea consisting of shards of shattered Vessel walls, all dark, dead and sticky dross, plus gazillions of tiny bitty little glowing sparks of pure, glorious, bright (too bright) blazing, stunning Goodness of what I term "Godshine."

All the dross and the Goodness were seethed and boiled and mixed up together.

The Nature of the dross is to "contain" Goodness. These shreds are bits of the Vessel walls.

They are naturally attracted to bits of Goodness. So every bit of Goodness gets plastered with this opaque, sticky mess.

Then G-d created a second Jacob's Ladder structure, the Creation we're in now, plopped right in the midst of the mess. The second one held together and here we are.

In this view of reality, the purpose of human life is to uncover the sparks of Goodness, separate out the dross, and elevate the Goodness back into contact with the Source.

The more goodness we free up to rise and shine down on us, the "brighter" our environment becomes, the easier it is for people with dim sight to see right from wrong, good from bad.

It is our job to find the Good within everything around us, but most especially within ourselves.

Meanwhile, because of the simple nature of the dross, every time we uncover some Good, all the dross in the neighborhood plasters itself around the Good, making our job harder.

Another principle of Reality in this postulate is like the Laws of Conservation in Physics. The Creator made Creation in balance. For every action, an equal and opposite reaction, right? For every Goodness, there's an equal amount of yucky.

The goodness inside a person is likewise balanced by bad tendencies. The "better" a person is at being a person, the stronger the temptations and opportunities to do bad.

Look at Jacob's Ladder again and you will see that the three pillars are in balance -- thesis, antithesis, synthesis in the middle. Creation is Symmetric. Likewise in Physics we find the material universe likewise has laws of symmetry. As Below: So Above.

We are awash, floating in a plasma of Good and Bad, mixed to neutrality.

Now, here's the trick of surviving and functioning in this mixture.

Move slowly, easily, gracefully, gently, just like when swimming. Don't disturb the plasma and it won't slosh back in your face and overwhelm the Good and drown you in sludge.

That dross sludge is what this model of the universe uses for Evil. The dross is not conscious, doesn't have an agenda, and can't initiate anything. It's just a heaving, sticky, mess you are swimming in, and there's a part of you inside you that has an affinity for it.

The whole trick is balance. (that's why we love Circus acts -- they are "life" in a nutshell).

So what happens when you start a project in Ace of Swords, bring the energies down and down, and finally get to 10 Swords? Why is 10 Swords so often experienced as a traumatic and horrible event if it's just "your chickens coming home to roost?"

10 Swords is just the consequences of your actions. But what if your soul took a quantum leap upward because of this project, (as the writer we've been talking about did). Suppose you strove and grew and improved and you deserve a REWARD -- but you get "this!" (bad book packaging as above; or worse)

Why do bad things happen to good people???? Or to a not-so-great person who finally did something magnificent and gets smacked down for it.

Does that negative consequence necessarily indicate that you aren't a "good enough" person, you didn't take a lesson of Love in 6, pay the piper in 7, learn your lesson in 8, and reshape your reality in 9? Is that failure why this nasty thing happened to you instead of success?

Why does no Good Deed go unpunished? Why? Why? Why????

There's the beauty of this postulate about "Evil" being just a sludgy sea of dross we swim in.

It explains in graphic terms exactly what happens when you strive magnificently, actually exceed your personal design specs, achieve something totally heroic, and get sandbagged.

When you make some soul-level progress by pulling a project down through the Swords processes, you are, in the language of this postulate, uncovering a spark of Divine Light within yourself, or those around you.

That newly exposed Spark instantly attracts a new coating of dross.

The Event that sandbags you in 10 Swords is the speeding dross smashing into the Spark you uncovered. SPLAT! And down you go.

It's part of the natural structure of the Universe -- dross splats.

So how do you avoid getting flattened by the dross your Good Deeds and totally warranted Successes attract?

Don't make waves. Don't stir the plasma. Don't splash. Swim.

Think of a little kid jumping feet first into a swimming pool that's sitting there smooth as glass.

Then the kid leaps and dives and sprays water, and gyrates -- eventually, the waves he's made reach the far wall and come back. If he's energetic enough, he can make a wave big enough to drown himself.

Now consider an adult who slices into that glassy smooth swimming pool, surfaces and sidestrokes across with clean, coordinated strokes and kicks that don't break the surface. There are waves, yes, but they don't impede him.

We are in a closed container - the Material Universe. The more energetically we splash, the more the dross splashes back. When you've splashed all your life, your first Good Deed designed to change your course in life will immediately be awash in waves of dross created by your past deeds.

And always remember, you're not the only one splashing about.

Let's step sideways into another model of the universe.

It is well known in Magickal circles that the way to tell whether a Candidate's first Initiation "took" is to watch the Candidate's life for the next year or so. Very often when a major Initiation takes hold in a life you will see divorce, job changes, change of residence, ill health (or sometimes amazing health recovery), job promotions, and all kinds of improbable things going wrong or swerving into uncharted territory. It usually makes a good soap opera plot.

These Initiates are observing the splash back of sticky clinging dross long stirred by the actions of the Initiate who was formerly operating on a much lower level of understanding.

The mark of the highest Initiates is that they move through the world without leaving a trace, not a ripple, in their passage. They are not famous. Nobody knows or remembers their names.

They make no effort at secrecy - but nobody notices them. Yet goodness and Light spreads everywhere they touch.

So back to our dross vs. Light model.

This dross vs. Light model of the universe is what those Highest Initiates finally get a handle on.

Remember the TV Show Kung Fu? That test of walking the rice paper runner to get out the door without leaving a trace? That's what we're trying to learn.

You can now see what happened to our Writer with the messed up packaging, and the two job applicants when their projects came down to the process of 10 Swords.

The writer had done quite a lot of splashing on the way to 10 Swords, but the bits of dross that smacked into her got "elevated" to become bits of light and goodness. She might have managed the trick a bit more smoothly, with better balance, so that every "bad" thing that happened turned out to help materialize her astral plane vision in 9 Swords. (and don't forget Divine Assistance) But she did an incredible job for a first try.

Job Applicant 1 got a tire flattened by a tidbit of dross, but again because his 9 Swords work (getting a new suit, doing his homework etc) aimed him toward success -- he got the love of his life and a much better job.

Job Applicant 2 got the job he thought he wanted, but it's a disaster. He didn't do his astral plane work well, quietly, smoothly. He splashed too much and waves of dross flowed back over him. Every good thing he did got plastered with sticky-yucky mess and he's overwhelmed by the side effects of his actions, even though he didn't do anything wrong and really isn't a bad sort of person.

At least it looks, at the point where we left them, that Applicant 1 has it made and Applicant 2 is lost forever. Just wait 20 years and look again.

These are processes not static situations.

Wherever you are in life, whatever your level of soul growth, and in your mastery of swimming in muck without splashing yourself and everyone around you with dross, there is always an opportunity to change, to improve, to fix your life.

So how do you do that? How do you quiet down the heaving ocean of dross, peel the stuff off the Good and send it on up the Ladder, and get your life in order so you can really do some heavy lifting?

What is the secret of dodging the tsunami of sticky-yuck heading toward you?

Suppose you really get it now, suppose you know what you did wrong and why and you really REALLY find yourself changing deep down inside. What can you do to climb out of the way of the consequences of your actions?

And if you do manage to avoid the consequences of your actions, isn't that dishonorable and only the source of more trouble?

Wellll -- there is a way, and it's so simple most people just don't comprehend the power of it.

Remember, the 10 Swords overlays the 6 of Pentacles. We haven't walked down the Ladder of Pentacles yet, so we don't quite grasp the entirety of what 6 of Pentacles is about, but we did learn 6 of Swords.

The 6's are about Love and Beauty and the love of beauty, and how percieving beauty ignites love within us. Reread the 6 of Swords

http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2007/09/six-of-swords-love-conquers-all-as.html

In 6 Swords, we encountered something through Love that jarred us out of an old rut and sent us packing for new shores. Love inspired real change, though we took our habits with us.

In 7 Swords we attempted to do tshuvah, to pay for our sins and make it right with the world, somehow to achieve inner peace.

This is the Path toward becoming a Tzadik, a wise person so at peace within that his steps through the world leave a wake of spreading peace.

In 8 Swords we had to get over the yes-buts, ammending thinking so that in 9 Swords the new attitudes bought so dearly in 6, 7, and 8 could now be applied to re-shaping our reality.

Now in 10 Swords comes the result of all that, the result of the good progress we've made along with all the dross stirred up and attracted to that good.

So how do we dodge the dross and cling to the Good?

We make the transition down to 6 Pentacles -- note the Waite Rider deck nails this one. It is a person giving away "Pentacles" in Charity.

And that's how you do it.

If you've realized where you were wrong, paid the price, braved the damage you had to sustain to get out of the trap of your own making, and transformed your nightmares to dreams, the way to slide right through 10 Swords is GIVE CHARITY.

Doing a Charitable Deed (not always giving money -- sometimes it's visiting the sick, opening up opportunities for others to do good, forgiving a bad driver for cutting in on you). Charity is the most powerful of all spiritual actions.

Even when your motive is not so pure, an act of charity can whisk you out of the path of the sticky-yuck tsumani.

Note in the example of the Writer whose packaging got messed up; what did she DO?

She took her misfortune and GAVE IT AWAY on TV, to explain to readers how these things happen, to entertain viewers with a truly amazingly silly story, to warn would-be writers of how things go in this business.

Putting her ego on a shelf, she took on the byline typo'd on her book. She gave herself. She exposed herself. She served others by not cancelling her appearance at the last minute. With those acts of Charity, she sidestepped all the dross splattered on her book.

She transformed the event down into Love (6 Pentacles) on the concrete level of reality. If you think that's easy, you just try it!

Now, of course, having skipped the Ace, Two, Three, Four, and Five of Pentacles, she will now find herself in more trouble than she knows how to deal with and will likely have to backtrack and scramble.

Marion Zimmer Bradley always quoted the saying, "Every ending is a new beginning," and that is so true in life and in Tarot.

When contemplating 10 Swords, think Frying Pan and Fire, and accept responsibility for the results of your actions.

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

Monday, October 15, 2007

We’re At Least Boldly Trying…

Last week we engaged in a good bit of dialogue on the science fiction romance sub-genre and where it was going—given SFR's odd parentage and proclivity to bounce back and forth across the aisles of bookstores. What was really neato-peachy keen—in addition to all the terrific input here on the blog—was the fact that Robin D Owens, Patti O'Shea, Susan Grant and Gena Showalter (and yours truly) then spent this past weekend at the Divas' forum, participating in a Science Fiction & Futuristic Workshop-melee-grand free-for-all that was top notch fun and top notch feedback. You have to register for the forum (it's free) but you can read the entire weekend's worth of posts and comments. If this sub-genre's important to you, I recommend it.


Some of the things that became apparent through this energetic discussion were that the sub-genre is still hard to pin down and define; its audience is comprised of two fairly divergent groups (SF and romance); and there's still a huge interest in stories generated in SFR/RSF/Futuristics.

We also realize that SFR/RSF/Futuristics is a mouthful. "Whaddya reading in SFR/RSF/Futuristics these days?" just does not elegantly roll off the tongue. So who are we? Sifroms? Romsifs? Futroms? The latter sounds as if we can be a couch or a bed. Sciroms? Romsci? That's kind of cute: romsci as in rom-skee. Maybe too cutesy sounding.

So perhaps you can see the problem. We don't even know what to call ourselves. Other than one big honkin' good bunch 'o books.

I'm rather partial to Jacqueline Lichtenberg's intimate adventure other than it could be misheard as a section of a department store that sells negligees. Not necessarily a bad thing, that…

Continuing on this push for exposure, we have this week (poor Susan!) a week with Susan Grant at the HQN site. Woman is going to be totally forumed-out come next weekend. She may have to recruit Her Mewness to do the typing. So please do log in and go continue the buzz, and tell her Linnea says "Yarp! Yarp!":

"Author Susan Grant joins us in a discussion of her out-of- this-world heroes and her latest novel, in the Otherworldly Men series, How to Lose an Extraterrestrial in 10 Days"

http://community.eharlequin.com/webx?50@@.4a84c12e

So let's all make sure Sue really gets no sleep and go pound her with questions and comments. And let's keep the buzz going.
ps: I would have added purty pictures today but Blogger is telling me it's having technical issues. I so know the feeling...

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Romances With Wolves (werewolves)

Alien romance it isn't, strictly speaking, although Liddy Midnight's ROGUES (co-authored with Cricket Starr) is an alien romance and a futuristic, if not a sfr. (I love it when three genres successfully merge in one great read!)

Tonight, Sunday 14th October, from 9pm Eastern until 11pm, Cathy Clamp, Liddy Midnight, Joy Nash, Sephera Giron, and Conrad V Suhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifcatre will be chatting with Rowena Cherry about werewolf romance.

I'd love any extra suggestions from the alien romance crowd for topics to slip into the internet radio discussion tonight. Absolutely, I ought to be polishing Knight's Fork (the follow-up to Forced Mate and Insufficient Mating Material) but this is the start of Wolf Awareness Week.

Best wishes,
Rowena Cherry

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Star Shadows



Chapter Three
It never failed to amaze him how well the Firebird handled. Every time he held the yoke in his hands he felt the thrill.
I did this…
It couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that he designed her. Well maybe adapted her was a better word. Boone used the Falcon’s sleek design as his starting point, modified the cabin to hold four comfortably into deep space travel but kept the same sleek shape that made for faster transport. To top things off he added the same red flames on the side of the ship that had been on a toy starship he had as a boy. The very toy that sat in a small indentation on the com before him.
Ruben, impressed with Boone’s design, then commissioned the ship to be built and was pleased with the results. So pleased that he gave Boone sole ownership of her when he went to Academy. His father was thinking about going into the fleet business now but Boone wasn’t sure if he liked that idea. It was a great feeling to know that he possessed and designed the best starship in the galaxy. The only Firebird in the Galaxy.
“I see Elle and Zander,” his little sister Zoey said. Her blue eyes danced with excitement as she pointed to the overhang above the bay.
“I see them too short stuff,” Boone said. She stood in between his seat and their mother’s watching everything with rapt attention. “Strap in,” he said. “We’re on final.”
She edged back into her seat and cinched the belt but still managed to sit on the edge and closely watch everything Boone did in preparation for landing. Kyp, one of Ky’s sons, sat beside her on the floor, patiently waiting until he’d be able to step out onto solid ground.
The flight from their home was just a short hop in the Firebird. They didn’t even leave the atmosphere, just skimmed over the ocean. Ruben owned a winery in the soft rolling hills above the equator over looking a cerulean sea. It seemed worlds away when one looked at a map, opposite side of the planet actually, but in the Firebird it was nominal.
He cut back the engines and the Firebird floated into the bay as if she were carried on a breeze. There wasn’t even a jolt when the gear went down and she settled into place. He felt the smooth hum of the platform as it turned the ship to be ready for takeoff.
“Perfect as usual,” Tess said with pride.
Boone grinned at her. He must have inherited his engineering talents from his biological father. And as far as he was concerned that was all of the man he wanted. He didn’t remember anything about him since he had been no more than two when he died but he knew he had been cruel to his mother. He also knew that he was a result of that cruelty.
Which made him love his mother all the more because she could have hated him when he came along. Instead she made it her purpose to make sure he was happy, even if she wasn’t.
And then Ben came along, he still thought of him as Ben, even after knowing him as Ruben. Ruben who was his father in heart and spirit and soul. Ruben who saved his mother and thus saved him.
“System shut down,” Boone instructed ELSie. Ruben still laughed every time he talked to his Encrypted Language System. Especially since Boone called it ELSie. Boone remembered talking to Eli, the one Ruben had on his first ship, The Shooting Star which his uncle Stefan now used. She had something of an attitude. A very feminine attitude.
“Hatch open,” ELSie informed him in a somewhat feminine monotone.
Zoey was gone with Kyp at her heels.
“She reminds me a lot of you at that age,” Tess said.
Boone watched as one of the guards smiled at Zoey and waved her into the tunnel that led up to the villa. “I was never that innocent,” he said. “No matter how much you pretended I was.”
“Did I do that poor of a job?” Tess asked, her eyes smiling at him.
He knew she was teasing but he kept on. There was something he was trying to work out in his mind.
“You did a good job of pretending Mema. But pretending everything is perfect isn’t always a good thing.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about you and me,” Tess said. She looked through the plexi at Elle and Zander who had just arrived in the bay.
“They should know why they live this way,” Boone said.
“You sound like they live in a horrible prison.”
Boone shrugged. “Don’t they? It’s not right that they don’t what is out there. It’s their lives after all.”
“I don’t think Shaun and Lilly meant it to last this long. I think they just kept waiting for the right time to tell them. And the right time just never came. They wanted them to be happy and innocent a while longer. Would you have wanted to live your childhood knowing there was a death sentence on your head?”
“I remember what it was like before Mema. Even without you telling me, I knew things weren’t right. And I wanted to do something to fix it.”
“Boone, you were only six.”
“And Zander will be eighteen tomorrow. Practically a man. If they don’t tell them soon, Zander is going to do something foolish.”
“Has he said anything?” His mother seemed fearful of the notion.
“No,” Boone said. He leaned over and gave his mother a quick kiss on her forehead to reassure her. “And I wouldn’t tell you if he had.”
“I’m sorry it was so bad for you,” his mother said.
“It was worse for you. You’ve never said anything about it but I know it was horrible. If Ruben hadn’t of showed up when he did…”
Zander stuck in head in the hatch. “Can I take her out?”
“Clear it with your father,” Boone said, feeling older, wiser and more mature than his best friend. He knew he had gotten off light earlier in the day. Ruben was of the same mind he was where Elle and Boone were concerned. He didn’t think their parents had done them any favors by sheltering them for all these years. And there was no need to tempt Shaun’s wrath. Not when he needed to be in the man’s good graces.
Zander made a face. Boone knew he’d rather cut his arm off than ask his father for anything right now. He’d just have to decide which he wanted more. The temptation to fly was always greater.
“Hi Elle,” Tess said as Elle entered the craft. She gave Boone a knowing look.
“Welcome Tess,” Elle said. Her smile for Boone seemed shy.
Maybe he should work on not being so obvious. But he couldn’t help but grin when Elle stepped into the Firebird.
She slid into the seat Tess vacated and rubbed her hand across the com. “I can’t believe you’ve still got this thing,” she said, picking up the toy.
“Hey,” Boone said. “Put it back.”
“I thought you were supposed to share your toys,” Elle teased.
Boone took the ship from her and put it back on the com. “That’s not a toy. It’s an essential part of the design.”
“Oh really?” Elle asked doubtfully. “What part is that?”
“If it doesn’t move then I’m flying her right.” He grinned at her.
“Do they teach that at Academy?” Elle asked.
“It’s not exactly a part of engineering,” Boone said. “But I did get E’s in all my courses.”
“I see that they teach modesty there also,” Elle continued with her teasing.
“I’ve learned all kind of things there,” Boone said, suddenly serious. “Things I’d love to teach you.”
I burn for you Elle. I can’t stop thinking about you…
Elle’s gaze, so striking and intense because of the paleness of her eyes, turned quickly away and she turned her attention to the com as if suddenly curious about the purpose of each light that blinked reassuringly in the dim light.
You scared her. Slow down.
“So what are the plans for the celebration?” Boone asked, quickly changing the subject. “Something spectacular I guess?”
“You mean because we’re coming of age?” Elle said turning back to him. “Not that they’d notice.” She seemed anxious for an argument. Boone wasn’t sure if it was because he had come on too strong or if she felt the same frustration as Zander.
“They’re just protecting you,” Boone said. “They’re intentions are good.”
“You know what it is they’re hiding from us,” Elle said. She turned the co to face him and tentatively took his hands into hers. “I saw it...before.”
“What did you see?” Boone asked. Unconsciously he went into the litany that he knew so well. It wasn’t his place to tell them. He swore an oath to his father that he wouldn’t. He had been trusted with the secret. He didn’t agree with it but he had still promised.
“I saw that you were protecting something. I saw that you have a secret that I can’t know.”
“I’m sorry Elle. I swore on my honor not to tell.”
“It’s the Circe, isn’t it?”
Boone pulled his hand away from Elle’s and looked through the plexi. Zander and Tess had gone into the tunnels. He wondered briefly if Zander would ask his father for permission to fly the Firebird. He was also waiting to see if Elle would dare try to search his mind without his permission. He hoped she wouldn’t. It was a dishonorable thing to do. But he wouldn’t put it past her. He knew her that well.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked after a long silent moment.
“It doesn’t matter,” Elle said. “What is the Circe?”
She didn’t know anything beyond the word. If she did she would have said who are the Circe.
“Ask your parents.”
“Why would they tell us?” she exploded. “They like us not knowing anything. They like keeping us prisoners in our home.”
“Elle,” Boone said, this time taking her hands into his. He waited a moment until she calmed and her gaze fell steady upon him. “Have the two of you ever just sat down and asked them? I know Zander broods about stuff and he’s so stiff necked with pride that he wouldn’t ask for help if it meant his life, but you’re a bit more diplomatic. Why don’t you just ask them to tell you instead of moping around like a couple of spoiled brats?”
Suddenly his hands felt as if he had stuck them in a reactor coil. He jerked them away involuntarily as Elle crossed her arms and looked at him in satisfaction.
“Kind of proves my point don’t you think?” Boone said, leaning back and giving her his own green eyed perusal. “You just proved that you aren’t mature enough to know the truth.”
My mind is my own…He started the litany in his head in order to thwart any torture Elle had in mind for him.
Elle jumped from the seat with a curse. Boone was impressed. He wondered where she had heard the word since it was one that was vulgar even by Academy standards. He admired the curve of her back as she stalked through the hatch and exited the bay as if on a mission.
“You’re just mad because you know I’m right,” Boone yelled through the plexi with a certain amount of satisfaction. A very small amount of satisfaction. He might be right but it had cost him Elle’s company. He didn’t have much time before he went back to Academy. He wanted to make sure she was his before he left again. He wanted to take back the knowledge that she would not be casting those beautiful eyes of hers elsewhere.
What if you are right?
What if Shaun and Lilly told Elle and Zander about the Circe today? How much would that change things? He felt pretty confident this past year at Academy, when he thought about things, when he realized that Elle was the only one he wanted. After all every other girl he met came up lacking. None were as pretty, none as graceful, none as sweet, or driven, or any other comparison he could think of. There were none like Elle. He made sure of it.
Boone had to grin at Elle’s reaction when she saw that he had been with girls. In the physical sense. But it had all been nothing as far as he was concerned. Just physical. After all he was at Academy and he was supposed to be learning…things.
What if it was the other way and Elle was the one…making sure?
He didn’t like that idea at all.
It was easy to remember the first time he’d seen Elle. He had come to Oasis with Shaun and Lilly, along with Ky. When they arrived the twins were waiting with their grandfather in the bay and upon seeing Elle his first thought was that he had gone to the heaven that his grandfather, Joah, sometimes referred too. He had never been around other children and knowing that he could see both her and Zander every day was all the heaven he needed.
Ruben soon found a place for his new family and they had gone to their own villa to create their own vineyard, modeled after the one on Lavign. Without the addition of the scourge of Qazar of course. Boone attended a regular school and made friends but special times were reserved to spend with his father’s best friend and his family. It wasn’t until Boone reached the end of his education on Oasis that he realized that Shaun and the Sovereign Nicholas of Oasis were the same man.
Which led to his questions about why Elle and Zander never came to visit them. Why Zander could never go with him on trips with his Uncle Stefan. Why he was never allowed to speak of them or the special things Elle could do to anyone he knew.
He knew about the Circe. Lilly had tested and trained his mother when she discovered that she was from the planet. Tess did not have the great capabilities that were characterized by the strange pale gray eyes. Her eyes were a clear gray-green in color. But her mother had been one. One who apparently rebelled and ran off with an unacceptable mate. Tess’s memories were vague since they had been erased. Lilly pulled as much of them to the surface as she could. Tess did remember that her father had the same bright green eyes as Boone, and that she had a brother. She could not recall her brother’s name.
Boone knew the Circe were evil. He had seen that first hand in his own life. Yet at Academy they were referred to as great counselors to the Senate. It was as if even the scholars did not want to get on their bad side. They had spies every where. Thus the danger to Zander and Elle.
Male children were not allowed to have the power that the Circe possessed. Shaun’s mother sacrificed herself so that her son would live when the law demanded that he be killed. His powers did not come into being until after he met Lilly. The Circe would still pay anything to have him killed.
And the children of such a union would terrify the race of psychic women.
Lilly triggered Shaun’s powers…
Suddenly it was so clear, as if Boone himself had suddenly inherited the powers. He knew the story well. It as one he never tired of hearing because hearing it brought him closer to knowing Elle.
Maybe that’s why Zander isn’t like Elle. Maybe he has to have his mind triggered by a woman…and not any woman…a woman that he loves.
“Is it possible that I…” he stopped himself before he finished. Even though he had Circe blood his bright green eyes were a sign that the powers did not run inside of him. His mother’s eyes were gray-green. She had healing powers and a psychic link with Ruben and nothing more.
Only those with the pale gray eyes held the true powers. Which is why any male child born to a Circe woman possessing that eye color was killed immediately. There was no way of telling in the womb what color eyes a child had. The child had to be born. The women of Circe, who had spent generations under the rule of their men would no longer be enslaved. Now they were the power. And they would kill any threat to it.
They would consider Zander to be the biggest threat of all because he was a true Circe on both sides.
Yet Zander held no powers at all. At least none that were evident.
Was it possible that there was a Circe woman somewhere that would trigger Zander’s powers? And if there were what were the chances that she was of a good heart, like Lilly?
Boone did the final check on the Firebird and went in search of his father.
Had it ever even occurred to them?
His footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the tunnel.
Or was it a foolish and wishful thought? There was only one way to know.
The time of secrets was over.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Madeleine L'Engle and Aliens

You've probably heard about the recent death (in early September) of Madeleine L'Engle. Her award-winning book A WRINKLE IN TIME was one of the first SF or fantasy novels I ever read. She's one of the great children's and YA fantasy writers of the twentieth century (and right up there with C. S. Lewis among the great Christian fantasy authors). One aspect of her fiction that I admire most is her portrayal of human characters in friendly relationships with "people" of other species. In WRINKLE, Meg travels the universe with three mysterious old ladies who turn out to be something like angels and meets a lovable monster she calls "Aunt Beast." She interacts with a "singular cherubim," a large snake, and sub-microscopic creatures living inside her little brother's body in A WIND IN THE DOOR. Her brother Charles Wallace is befriended by a unicorn in A SWIFTLY TILTING PLANET. The teenage heroine of RING OF ENDLESS LIGHT communicates with dolphins.


C. S. Lewis' fiction displays the same gift, most obviously in the cooperative society formed by the intelligent talking animals of Narnia. In his adult SF novel OUT OF THE SILENT PLANET, the kidnapped Professor Ransom becomes the guest of three different nonhuman, intelligent species on Mars. In the third novel of Lewis' space trilogy, THAT HIDEOUS STRENGTH, the good guys keep a strangely assorted menagerie of pets, including a tame bear. Lewis' close friend J. R. R. Tolkien, in THE LORD OF THE RINGS, portrays a multi-species alliance that engenders a deep friendship between members of two traditionally hostile races, elves and dwarves.


This theme of relationships across species boundaries permeates STAR TREK in its best moments, as exemplified by the Vulcan motto, "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations." Television celebrates this principle for children on SESAME STREET, where people of various ethnic groups live in friendly proximity to a giant, talking bird, a Sufflelupagus, and “monsters” of many different shapes and colors. One of Lewis' Martians feels pity for the inhabitants of Earth in having only one intelligent species on our planet. How can we evaluate the validity of our own thoughts if we can't compare them with “thought that floats on a different blood” (from which I adopted the title of my book on the vampire as alien, DIFFERENT BLOOD)? Both Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle hint that in an uncorrupted world (such as Venus in Lewis' PERELANDRA), instead of the suspicion, fear, and loathing we often feel for beings different from ourselves, we would react to them with affectionate curiosity.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

9 Swords - Nightmares

Firstly: a comment on Linnea Sinclair's post of yesterday, Oct 8, 2007, which is essentially about the world of publicity, promotion, advertising.

Here is a post about what the changes in the world due to Web 2.0 look like from behind the Ad/Promo desk.

http://www.bulldogreporter.com/dailydog/issues/1_1/dailydog_barks_bites/index.html

And here's an item that flew by me earlier this week on using Web 2.0 to reach young people with 1 minute videos that teach things.

http://www.oneminuteu.com/

And as I said in comment to Linnea's post on SFR and promotion, I think Blake Snyder's SAVE THE CAT GOES TO THE MOVIES has the solution to this problem embedded in it. It's up to us to extract that solution.

----------------
As noted previously, this is a chapter in a book about the Tarot aimed at Intermediate students, not beginners or advanced students. It is particularly aimed at writers.

Updated and expanded compilation of all these Tarot Just For Writers entries is now available on Kindle:

The Wands and Cups Volumes and  the Swords and Pentacles Volumes, are now all available separately on Kindle.  The 5 Volumes combined are also available on Kindle as one book, cheaper than buying them individually.

The Not So Minor Arcana: Never Cross A Palm With Silver Aug 30, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0108MC26O

The Not So Minor Arcana: Wands Sept. 1, 2015  99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106RVPKU

The Not So Minor Arcana: Cups Sept. 11, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106SATX8

The Not So Minor Arcana: Swords  Sept. 17, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0100RSPM2

The Not So Minor Arcana: Pentacles  Sept. 21, 2015 99 cents
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0106RVKF0

The Not So Minor Arcana: Books 1-5 combined Sept. 24, 2015 $3.25
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B010E4WAOU

This series is designed not for the beginner or the advanced student, but for the intermediate student and specifically for writers doing worldbuilding..
---------------

And Remember: The meaning of a Tarot Minor Arcana resides in the placement on the Tree of Life (i.e. the number on the card) integrated with the "World" or Suit of the card. For the Tree of Life and the Jacob's Ladder diagrams see:
http://web.onetel.net.uk/~maggyw/treeladder.html

I don't really go with the way this page explains the Tree, but it is worth thinking about. There are many other ways. For now, ponder the diagrams on this page or google up some others.

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We're now talking about the 4th circle UP from the bottom of the Middle Pillar of Jacob's Ladder. It is the 9 of Swords, but overlays the Da'at sepherah of Pentacles, the suit or world right below Swords, our material reality.

OK here things get really mystical.

The Tree of Life consists of 10 areas, or zones, or processes or functions called Sepheroth, plus the connecting links between them.

Jacob's Ladder is 4 repetions of the pattern of 10. One half-overlays the next repetition down the Ladder so Sepheroth appear to overlap. A better way to imagine it is to think of each of the 4 repetions as in different planes, like pieces of transparent paper stacked one on the other.

However, out of the plane where the 10 Sepheroth exist, there is another, 11th Sepherah, Daath or Da'at which is generally translated as Knowledge. You won't find any really definitive explanations of Da'at because it is so mystical and has no place in an Intermediate discussion like this.

For our (intermediate Tarot) purposes though, we should note that the 9 of Swords overlays the 11th Sepherah of Pentacles but doesn't touch it because they're in different dimensions.

Look at the top of the Jacob's Ladder diagram and you will see the shadowy 11th Sepherah of Wands pictured behind (or in some diagrams before) the spokes connecting the 10 into the Tree pattern. The 9 of Wands is over Da'at of Cups. The 9 of Cups is over Da'at of Swords. The 9 of Swords is over Da'at of Pentacles.

As we saw with 8 Swords the solution to the problem of 8 Swords came from the underlying 3. So also the solution to the problem of 9 Swords will come from Da'at or 11-ness whatever that might be!

When the Jacob's Ladder diagram shows two circles overlaying each other, energy flowing through one sets up resonances in the other. (Think guitar strings.)

A human being drawing down creative energy from the top of the Ladder through all 4 Trees can bring the energy from one Tree to the next at those circles which overlap.

A process doesn't have to proceed from 1 to 10 in the order we've been tracing here. The path we're following is called the Lightening Flash (because it zig-zags). But you can bring energy down via any of the routes marked, and in fact use several paths at once.

That's why life is so complicated and confusing -- because it is complicated and confusing.

But there is an underlying pattern -- really, truly there is! Cling to that idea of structure because we're going to venture into a realm here that makes it very hard to find.

Each Tarot Minor Arcanum takes its primary meaning from the number on the card and from its Suit. Each suit represents one of the 4 Worlds of Kaballah depicted by the 4 repetions of the Tree of Life to form Jacob's Ladder.

I call the top one Wands, or Fire, and the second one Cups or Water, and the third which we are studying here Swords or Air. The bottom repetition of the Tree is Pentacles or Earth. Lots of other systems work just as well, but this widely used one is simple, and helps keep the focus on the overall structure which reveals the usable meanings of the cards. So what does 9 mean?

What is the essence of 9-ness?

On the Tree of Life, 9 is called Yesod -- Foundation.

Foundation of what?

The World.

The bottom Sepherah on the Middle Pillar dangling out the bottom of the Ladder is Malkuth for the Pentacles suit (10 Pentacles card).

The World (the 4-dimensional space-time continuum we live inside of -- i.e. The Universe) is (this is my own opinion) entirely contained within that 10 Pentacles card.

The rest of the Tree exists above the point where Space and Time are defined. Yet within 10 Pentacles, within our material reality, the entire pattern of the Ladder repeats and repeats -- "As Above; So Below."

Thus we can identify the processes of writing a novel from the Ace of Swords down to 10 Swords as actions we do in material reality -- even though these processes actually exist outside space-time.

"Creation" -- that which exists because G-d said "Let there be" etc -- includes everything on the Ladder above 10 Pentacles -- and more above the Ace of Wands. Our material reality is the result of all that -- and bears traces of it all. Thus the level of 9 is the Foundation of all that's under it.

Wait a minute! The "Foundation" lies ABOVE what it supports?

Well, I did warn you! This is mysticism.

It does make perfect sense if you think of FOUNDATION as that which has to go in first, before the structure is erected.

The Foundation is where things are caused and determined -- the ultimate shape of the structure, how strong and tall it can be, how long it will last, its limits, and thus what it can be used for are all determined by the FOUNDATION.

Oh, wait another minute!

If 9-ness is only the foundation, the beginning of the project, what's the One, the Ace?

Aha, well, the 1's to 8's describe the processes that must happen before a foundation is built.

There's originating, starting, commiting, developing the blueprints, modeling, re-evaluating, re-designing, submitting the plans to an architect (who like the Editor, says, "No, it'll fall down." or "It needs fire exits!") and now in 9 there's GROUND BREAKING!

9 is where the substance of reality is finally moved and reshaped, strengthened and rearranged to accomodate the project.

We know that Swords are actions, thoughts, words, opinions, even plans.

So the 9 of Swords is the act of putting your money where your mouth is.

Or in the analogy of publishing a book, the 9 of Swords is the interval between the signing of the contract and subsequent the tussle with the editor over changes in 8 of Swords, and the point where you actually hold the first printed book in your hands.

The book is at the printers where paper is cut and ink applied, thus reshaping reality to convey your Ideas.

The 9 of Swords is the point beyond which you can't yell, "STOP THE PRESSES!" You've examined the galleys and OK'd them, or put in changes missed by everyone before. The copy has been sent to the printer. The presses are rolling (action). Publicity plans are unfolding.
9 Swords is the first stage of implementing the visions, decisions and actions made in the previous 8 stages of the project.

So why does the Waite Rider deck depict it as a person sitting up at midnight with 9 swords floating above as if about to fall?

Because this is the stage of the project where the project is still amorphous. At this point, all the work done before, all that energy drawn down the stages of Jacob's Ladder shimmers in shapeless potential.

Will anyone read this book? Will the critics like it? Will the publisher send out review copies? Will anyone buy it? Will anyone like it? Will I have to do the talk show circuit (what in the world can I wear!). Will it become a movie? Will ANYONE like it???? Will it get a good cover? Will my mother accidentally read it (ohmygawd!). Above all - is it good enough?!!!

Have I risked too much? Have I exposed too much personal stuff? Not enough? Have I said something stupid I'll never live down? Will my boss read it and fire me? Will it cost me a career? I should never have written this thing! What is going to HAPPEN????

In 8 of Swords, there's worry about consequences IF you take action. Here, in 9 Swords, the action has been taken, but consequences haven't materialized yet, so the worry is still there, now accompanied by nebulous horror that you actually did a dangerous thing. Nightmares.

The 9's are Yesod, the Foundation. In many traditions, this is called the Astral Plane.

The 9's represent where you go when you fall asleep, or have an "out of body" experience.

9 Swords is what you do (actions) while there.

Remember, the 9's exist above the point in creation where Space and Time are defined. There is no up, down, east, west, north and south on the Astral. There is no before or after. All places and all times are the same place and time.

That's what is so disorienting and "nightmarish." Or "dream-like." When you are in R.E.M. sleep, whether an experience is nightmare or dream depends on how you feel about it when you wake up.

We want our dreams to come true - but not our nightmares. On Jacob's Ladder, there's no way to distinguish dreams from nightmares.

9 of Swords is where we decide what among all our visions we will make come true. The 9 of Swords is the foundation, the beginning, the definition of the edges of our reality.

In the mystical reality, wishing can and does make things come true.

Our ventures onto the astral plane at night shape and guide our real, waking lives. And so how we approach and experience 9 Swords will have a measurable and visible effect on how our project eventually turns out in concrete reality.

As I have said here before, none of the Tarot cards are "bad" -- none of them cry doom! How you experience any of these processes depends a lot on whether you live in a Zero-Sum-Game universe, or an Abundant Universe where everyone can be a winner.

In the Zero-Sum-Game model, 9 Swords is the trip onto the astral plane into nightmare.

After tumbling on through 8 Swords, you arrive at this 9 process where everything, absolutely everything, depends on you and you alone, and you feel you have no control at all over anything.
That helplessness is the essence of nightmare (just like being a newborn in a crib; you can't even get your thumb to your mouth!).

The only thoughts (Swords) you have are fears of failure, and the assessment of the stakes if you fail. In the Zero-Sum universe, failing means losing. Someone else wins, not you.

In the Abundant model, you tromp through 8 Swords with confidence, negotiating so that you pay only what you can afford and get what you need, and some of what you want.

Then you fall into bed, exhausted, and into the 9 of Swords process, where you dream bright and glowing images of success in every detail and are possessed of happiness and blessed relief that the job is DONE, and now all you have to do is lay the foundation for your future.

Your joy shapes the fluid stuff of the astral plane and eventually what you've imagined becomes real.

Brian Boytano, who won the Olympic Gold Medal for men's figure skating, told the media he had spent years visualizing that moment with himself on the highest of the 3 platforms. He could really see it. And it happened for him. But he didn't just visualize it. He worked. His whole life was skating and competing. The astral plane is the foundation -- but it isn't the building.

If the project was writing a book, the writer who lives in the abundant universe spends this 9 Swords interval dreaming of the sequel, filling in details, living the character's lives and furiously outlining the next book.

In the zero-Sum model, which we all revert to because it's culturally sanctioned here, the artist or writer has nightmares of failure, and nightmares of the even worse contingency, success! How do I write the sequel to a world-wide best seller? Can I do it?

Ok, so how do you do it -- again -- on purpose?

You lay the foundation on the astral plane.

The stuff of the astral plane is amorphous, without time or shape. The force of your thoughts shapes it, whittles, hones, polishes, paints, and illuminates it. Everything in our concrete world was first shadowed on the astral, outlined like the strings surveyors put out to mark where to dig the foundation.

That shadow holds our concrete world together and gives it shape, just like a foundation holds a building and defines its shape. (Yep. Mysticism.)

Now you say, "But I've wanted and yearned for things, and imagined and dreamed, and they didn't happen!"

I told you, living is complicated because it's so exquisitely simple.

It isn't your conscious thoughts that shape the Astral to create your concrete world.

It is your subconscious mind that shapes the foundation of your life via the astral plane, via Yesod, the foundation of all reality.

How can you possibly control your subconscious mind?

You can't.

However, you can make friends with it, persuade, coax, negotiate. The subconscious is really stupid. It can't learn. But it can be trained, like a dog, with gentleness, consistency, kindness, and above all persistence.

But how do you communicate with your subconscious? How do you pet it and discipline it?

The best way I know of -- GO TO THE MOVIES! Rent some DVDs. Watch TV shows. Read books. Wallow in fiction to your eyebrows.

What is the essence of story? Conflict. Internal conflicts shown clearly in the character's external life, conflicts that are resolved by the action of the story.

What is your problem with your subconscious mind? For most of us, most of the time, the conscious mind is in CONFLICT with the subconscious, just like characters in a story.

In the 7 Swords Reversed, we began the process of resolving those internal conflicts. Here, in 9, we are rewarded with an opportunity to re-shape the foundation of our lives according to the changes made in 7 Swords (as a result of Love in 6 Swords which happened because of criticism in 5 Swords, which couldn't have happened if we hadn't finished the l first draft in 4 Swords, which couldn't have happened if we hadn't etc.). If we can pull it off here in 9 Swords, then we will get the concrete world to behave better.

The easiest way to start communicating with your subconscious is by watching for your emotional reactions to stories.

That emotional reaction (Suit of Cups) is your subconscious talking to you -- and it is especially illuminating when you burst into tears over a scene and you don't know WHY!

By thoughtfully analyzing what you react to in fiction, you can learn to see your own reflection in the fictional characters. And you can learn what nightmares you have in common with others.

Fiction has its origin on the astral plane. It can transport you back there. And when you return from walking a mile in fictional moccasins, you will not be in the same "place" you were in before, spiritually. Your subconscious will start negotiating peace with your conscious mind.

Novels are complex -- not as complex as life, but they can be very abstract and complex. The short story can be more to the point, but too simplistic.

So the medium I prefer for this purpose is film and TV. Because of the way the stories have to be structured for film, an emotional reaction can be traced very easily to its cause in a film.

Books are richer, but film is tremendously accessible for the purpose of igniting spiritual progress.

So I have two books that I hope you'll be able to find, read and study carefully. Not only are they good for teaching you to write stories, but also for learning to analyze films to find the cause of a surprising emotional response. Film uses the languages of the subconscious, and with modern techniques, can replicate the otherworldliness of the Astral.

The books: Save the Cat! and Save The Cat Goes To The Movies. See reviews:

http://www.simegen.com/reviews/rereadablebooks/2007/ in both January and April columns.

and http://www.simegen.com/reviews/rereadablebooks/2008/ for the sequel reviewed in January 2008.

And on Amazon, in my reviews, I talk more about the usefulness of these books for writers.

Save The Cat! and Save The Cat Goes To The Movies are both by Blake Snyder. Here's a direct amazon.com link.

http://www.amazon.com/Save-Cat-Goes-Movies-Screenwriters/dp/1932907351/rereadablebooksr/

In my review of Save The Cat Goes To The Movies, Jan. 2008 review column, I discussed in depth just the first page of the book, with more references to come in following columns.

On that first page, Snyder explains a genre he calls MONSTER IN THE HOUSE. You have to read his explanation of this genre and the movies it applies to, but meanwhile think about it this way.

The essence of Blake's Monster In The House genre is that the cast of the film is confined inside an enclosed space with something that wants to eat them -- and it has gotten loose because of some "sin" done by the protagonist. (inviting the Vampire in)

You are locked inside your skull with your subconscious, and you are its Monster while it is your Monster. Snyder provides a perfect description of the astral plane nightmare.

The point of the Monster In The House genre is to evoke the sensation of intimate violation by a supernatural (i.e. from outside your view of the universe) evil.

The subconscious mind houses not only your main contact with the Creator of the Universe and all the Good, but your awareness of the negative forces beyond human ken. And you are trapped in there among these vast, incomprehensible forces. That is your dream world.

Those "yes-buts" you created in 8 of Swords become Monsters you create on the Astral to avoid dealing directly with your subconscious -- big, powerful, ugly, voracious monsters that want to eat you alive. They're the monsters under the bed, in the dark basement, and in the closet when you're little -- possibly shredded memories from prior lives and maybe deaths, bits and snippets of the astral plane shaped by you in prior lives, the stuff of hauntings.

The "yes-buts" are all the reasons why you can't talk to your subconscious sensibly. Instead you roar. If that's the condition within you, then likely you will also roar at your spouse.

The yes-buts are all your fears, especially the ones you don't want to admit - but they are also your SELF. They are what you can't control, conquer, beat, or dispatch. Go up against those monsters and you lose.

Such Monsters exist only in the Zero-Sum universe where you must win the war with your subconscious -- or nightmare wins. You are locked inside your skull and inside your life with this powerful and furious beast and you must win because losing is unthinkable and you can't escape.

And that's what the image on the Waite-Rider 9 of Swords depicts.

Nightmares.

So how do you shake off a nightmare?

The old fashioned, tried and true method when waking from a nightmare is to go raid the refridgerator (food grounds you to the material world). Writing down the nightmare often does the trick. But then what? You have to go back to sleep some time.

The way out of the trap is through Da'at of the material world. Da'at is Knowledge, knowledge of the practical world and the spiritual world and how they are joined together, the Knowledge of the mechanism of the universe.

What makes the supernatural monster so scary is that we don't understand it. It is "the unknown."

The essence of Science Fiction is "encounter with the Unknown" -- the essence of Horror is "encounter with the Unknowable." Unknowable can morph into Unknown with a twitch of attitude.

By exercise of the conscious mind doing practical, everyday, things we shake off nightmare and prepare to reshape the astral plane matter into something brighter, better, more amenable, more suitable to our goals.

Often the most powerful actions for preparing your next expedition onto the astral are ritual: praying, cleansing, setting wards, confessing; or simple practical acts: giving charity, making right something you did wrong, helping the helpless, establishing and assisting a group with shared devotions -- do something special to honor your parents or teachers.

Once you have set your material world in order, brought your mind to bear on your problem and taken real, concrete action, (such as, if your publisher isn't advertising your book; you can do some advertising yourself!) you can venture onto the astral again with confidence, falling asleep imagining and then dreaming of a good outcome for your project.

If you are losing the vision of success of your project, do something that will let you dream of that success really happening.

What you shape on the astral with your imagination will materialize one way or another. But in order to do that shaping, you may have to study your nightmares until you have complete knowledge of them to turn them into dreams.

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

Monday, October 08, 2007

Are We Boldly Going...?

I'm absolutely pleased ::Linnea points to previous BSP post on the upcoming workshop:: that the genre(s) of SFRomance and Futuristics are getting some coverage as of late. There was also a lengthy article on paranormals--including SFR--at All About Romance last month. Now, one could chalk this up to the fact that this is the Halloween season, so things that go bump or boo or boom in the night get attention.

I'm hoping it's something more than that. I'm hoping that Science Fiction Romance (and Futuristics and RSF, for those of you who break things down thusly) is finally being recognized as a valid (sub)genre. Worthy of coverage. Worthy of attention. Worthy of question.

This is something the lovely and delightful Susan Grant and I bemoan...oops! I mean discuss from time to time. Okay, we've been bitching a lot about it lately. Sue's one of the Grande Dames of the romance end of the genre (and that does not mean she's older--she's quite the young thing) and as she knows, I respect her journey tremendously and, as well, the avenues she's opened for the rest of us. On the SF end, we have Catherine Asaro and our own wonderful Jacqueline Lichtenberg who developed the romance, the "intimate adventure" side of the story over in the SF aisles.

Many authors have followed. But many have moved on to other genres (Carole Nelson-Douglas and CJ Barry come immediately to mind) and in speaking with them they've admitted that SFR/Futuristics genre just doesn't have the numbers. That is, the readership, the following, the sales. Both CJ (now writing as Samantha Graves) and Carole jumped over to mystery/romantic suspense.

Part of the problem--and this is something Sue's keyed on rightly in her emails with me--is that SFR has an identity crisis. Neither fish nor fowl, not quite comfortable in the romance aisles and not quite sure if it belongs in the SF aisles, SFR sometimes plays the part of the rabble-rouser (it is known for its kick-butt heroines) and sometimes the unwanted guest (read the reviews where the romance reviewer says there's too much tech stuff and the SF reviewer says there's too much mush). We're lumped in with paranormals (vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, dark angels and sorceressess) but I'm not sure we belong there. That's like lumping space-opera science fiction books in with police procedurals because, well, they both involve weapons and people die.

We also tend to throw the cover art departments of publishing houses into apoplexy. Too many spaceships on the cover and the romance contingent won't read us. But a muscles chest or a couple kissing scares off the SFers. I recently went through severe cover art issues with my books at Bantam when a series of covers was presented that were totally gorgeous and totally, absolutely, undeniably wrong for my books. They'd have been perfect for Laurell K Hamilton or some edgy, erotic, urban fantasy novel. They were frighteningly wrong for mine--frightening in that they delivered a message; no. They promised a kind of read I don't deliver. I feared a huge "reader disconnect" if they had been used.

Sue Grant ran into a similar problem but from a different end. Her covers have tended to the lighter romancey end, totally ignoring the deeper and yes, SF elements in her stories. While not fully chick-lit in design they did substantially play down the SF parts. Granted, Sue writes terrific humor, especially in her most recent SFR series, "Otherworldly Men". But there's a lot of humorous SF out there with
covers that don't ignore the SF factor.

So it's not just readers and reviewers who are confused. Publishers and their marketing departments are, too.
Which brings me to my title for this blog: are we boldly going where SFR needs to go? Or are we riding the coattails of paranormals and finding ourselves tossed about in the wake, so to speak (yeah, no one mixes metaphors like I do)? Does SFR need to push harder for its own unique identity? If so, what would that be?

With each passing year I watch our society become more and more technologically oriented. From iPods to iPhones to Tivos to Roombas to a car that freakin' parks itself... the lives we live have much more in common with the characters in an SFR novel than ones in a 14th century historical. Yet there is still a palpable resistance to SFR. Booksellers don't know where to shelve us. Art departments are confused over cover art. And fans of vampire, dark angel and high-tech hard SF novels wonder what in hell we're doing in their TBR piles.

I don't know if there've been any case studies done on the emergence of vampire romance novels, like those of Christine Feehan and Sherrilyn Kenyon. But there must have been a point, early on, where publishers and readers tried to stick the books with the "horror" label, and wrongly so. Feehan and others like her essentially created the paranormal romance genre.

I think it's time SFR created an equally bold and powerful name for itself in its own right.

I just haven't a clue how to do that.

~Linnea

Out Of This World Workshop

A bit of BSP first...




Writing Out of this World Romance with Some of The Hottest Authors in the Science Fiction and Futuristic Genres


October 12th, 13th, and 14th at Romance Divas


Featuring:

Susan Grant

Patti O’Shea

Linnea Sinclair

Robin D. Owens

Gena Showalter


Want to know how to write out of this world romance? Romance Divas is hosting a 3-day workshop with some of the hottest names in the Science Fiction and Futuristic genres. It will take place at the Romance Diva Forum. All are welcome. To get access to the forum you will need to register.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Alien romances and video




Alien romance, stands out in my mind as a prime example of a subgenre of Romance that ought to benefit from showing book videos (book peeks, book trailers, book flicks).

My Crazy Tuesday internet voices radio show was about Book Flicks in general. Tammie King, owner of Night Owl Romance, chose which videos were shown.

Madeline Hunter, Judi McCoy, Renee Field, Sandra Hill, Susan Kearney, Deborah MacGillivray, Jacquie Rogers were on the guest list, and we talked about cost, distribution, return on investment, actors... especially actors, length, sound-track, subtitles, stock footage and much more.

It was a fascinating discussion, especially since we were all able to watch the individual videos on the internet while the authors discussed their choices, mistakes, triumphs, and disasters.

Upon mature reflection since then, I tend to think that a genre like SFR (science fiction romance) might be a tad better served by a video that, say, a contemporary murder mystery.

The "Procedural" novel buyer generally knows what to expect, whether it is a coroner's procedure, or a detective's.

If there is a couple in costume on the front of a Medieval Romance novel, a video is lovely to supplement that impression-- please do not think I am snarking Historicals, because I am not-- but seeing a couple in costume moving around isn't as eye-opening as seeing, for instance, a hunk turning into a weredragon. Or seeing that the shadowy figure on the cover is supposed to be reassuringly normal and devastatingly gorgeous when he turns around.

Maybe, someone browsing the SF aisle or the Romance aisle does not know what to expect when they pick up a futuristic or an alien-vampire romance. Cover art for us can sometimes be misleading... not for all of us. I know of some authors who've successfully requested different cover art from the first offering. Most authors don't get cover approval.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, a dozen frames in a fifty second video may be worth so much more. The NASA site is a great source of free images of star systems, planets, and other stellar what-not.


Whose videos convey SFR for you?
Has any video persuaded you to try a SFR that you might otherwise have not looked at?

Best wishes,
Rowena Cherry

Forced Mate
Mating Net
Insufficient Mating Material

(trying to finish KNIGHT'S FORK by mid month)!

Saturday, October 06, 2007

Star Shadows

Chapter Two

His body was cramped but he kept his place. When he was a boy he fit easily into the space. Now that he was supposed to be a man…
“When are you going to start acting like a man Zander?” His father yelled at him in his anger after they landed from their silent trip back from the coral.
“When are you going to start treating me like one?” Zander yelled back, his own frustration pouring forth in an uncontrollable eruption. It was the first time in his life that he raised his voice to his father. He then stalked off into the tunnels, shaking with shock and rage, leaving Boone and Elle to face the lecture that was sure to follow.
If only he knew why they weren’t allowed to leave the villa. If only he knew what it was his parents were so afraid of.
If only he knew why he was so…lacking…in their eyes.
In all the years of listening, he never found out any of the answers to his questions. And every morning he woke, feeling as if every day of his life was one big question.
What were they protecting them from? What dangers lay waiting for them? What were they preparing them for? What was it he was supposed to be able to do?
He kept his ear pressed against the thin sheet of metal that was part of the ventilation system. He had discovered quite by accident that he could hear everything said in his father’s study by just lying in the small niche off one of the main tunnels and keeping his ear pressed to the vent. It was one of his favorite hiding places when he, Elle and Boone played seeker in the tunnels. There was a slight curve to it so it was easy for him to disappear. Now he was as long as the alcove and had to pull his legs up so they wouldn’t hang out for everyone to see.
He felt somewhat guilty for leaving Elle and Boone to face the punishment that was sure to come.
And he also wondered if Boone would even stick around for it. He knew his friend had great respect for their father but he was a second year at Academy. Shouldn’t that mean that he was now part of the adult world?
Boone’s father certainly treated him as one. Ruben was with his father when they found them and had flown them back to the villa without a word to his own son. Zander knew them well enough to know that there probably wouldn’t be a lecture. Ruben treated his son with respect. He treated him as if he knew something. And Boone had earned his father’s respect. He excelled at Academy although in private he said he hated the constrictions. He had piloted ships all over the galaxy with either his father or his uncle Stefan at his side. He had seen things Zander could only imagine. He had been places Zander could only dream about. Boone was allowed to experience life.
That was another thing he heard when he hid in the tunnels. His father and Ruben talking late into the night about the past, about the present, about the future. They talked about their adventures. They talked about their families. They even talked about the unknown threat, wondering about it, if it were still there, what they would do if and when it happened.
It was from these talks that he learned that apparently he was supposed to take over the reins of government someday. He knew everything there was to know about Oasis. His grandfather, Michael was one of his teachers. He knew there had been a war and his parents had saved their planet from being taken over by another planet. He knew his father had instituted a thing called Democracy that let the people elect their own leaders. And those elected had a say in the governing of the planet, and if there was ever a tie, the deciding vote was cast by his father, known to Oasis as the Sovereign Nicholas.
Yet he, Prince Alexander of Oasis, had never been past the coral.
His weapons training and fighting skills were the best. He could even beat his father, sometimes, when they sparred and he and Boone had long ago quit taking their practice battles seriously because they always ended up in a tie.
But he was tired of shooting at targets and training in the large room that took up the entire top floor of the villa.
He had spent untold time in simulators learning how to fly every craft there was.
Yet he had never done anything more than pilot small ships around the Crater Lake.
Perhaps the bigger question about his life shouldn’t be what or why but when? When would he be considered a man and thus privy to all this unknown and unspeakable information that controlled every aspect of his life?
What was taking them so long to get to the study? So far he had heard nothing, although he knew his father was below. He could hear him pacing as his boots went back and forth on the smooth stone of the floor to the softer tread of the large rug woven by Boone’s mother Tess.
“How did it go?” he finally heard his father, Shaun speak.
“The usual,” his mother, Lilly replied. “Why can’t we go there? Why are we being punished?”
“They aren’t being punished,” his father said. “They’re being protected.”
“Do you ever think that perhaps we’ve protected them too much?” he heard his mother ask.
Yes. Yes. Yes…Zander wanted to scream the words, but he also wanted to hear more of what his parents had to say.
“I remember how it was for you,” Shaun said. His voice sound muffled and Zander could easily imagine his father holding his mother in his arms. She brought that out in a man. The willingness to protect and to sacrifice.“When we met, it was if you bore the weight of the universe on your shoulders.”
“Because I had my duties and responsibilities laid out before me as soon as I was able to walk and talk.”
“Your childhood wasn’t happy.”
“No. It wasn’t.” His mother sighed and Zander wondered what made her childhood so sad? Was it because her mother died giving birth to her? His grandfather adored her as he did his grandchildren. She spoke again. “But ignorance isn’t bliss either. Don’t you remember how frustrated you were when you were trying to figure out what was going on inside your mind?”
What are they talking about? Zander’s ears ached with the thought that he might finally find something out. He’d never heard his parents speak so specifically about the past before.
“Two extremes,” his father said. “Perhaps we should have found the middle ground.”
“Perhaps,” Lilly said. Zander smiled in his privacy. His mother possessed a great talent for diplomacy that was sorely lacking in his father. “It’s a bit late for regrets in that matter. And we have something else to worry about now.”
“What?”
“Boone and Elle.”
“What about them?”
“Haven’t you noticed that he’s in love with her?”
“Er…um…What?”
Zander buried his face in his arm and allowed himself a silent laugh at his father’s complete discomposure.
“How do you know?” Shaun was finally able to ask.
“I looked at them,” Lilly said. “He’s always loved her but now, since he’s been gone, he wants her.”
“You looked inside?”
“I didn’t have to Shaun. It’s obvious.”
“And when you say wants her…”
“I’m saying that he’s just like his father. And just like you.”
The vent echoed with the sound of something shattering against it, along with a string of words that Zander knew well, but would never dare say in the presence of his parents.
“Do you think they’ve…”
“No. But I think it won’t be long until something happens.”
“But they’re so young…”
“He’s the same age I was when I met you.”
“I’ll kill him,” Shaun said.
Lilly laughed. “No you won’t. You’ll give Elle time to figure out how she feels about him.”
“Damn,” Shaun said.
“You act like this is a bad thing,” Lilly said. “Who better for Elle than Boone?”
“I just never thought…Damn.”
“You just can’t stand to think about her with any man.”
Zander was pretty sure he didn’t want to think about it either. Elle and Boone…doing things.
Another part of his education that was thorough but also frustrating. He knew all about sex. He knew all about procreation. He even knew what it felt like to wake up in the mornings in an embarrassing predicament.
Especially when he had the dreams…
“Zander,” Elle whispered. “What are you doing?”
Zander jerked as Elle stuck her head into the space next to his legs. His head crashed against the top of the tunnel and he saw stars and felt something wet and sticky flow from his temple.
“Do you mind?” he whispered angrily as he touched his fingers to his temple and then looked at the blood that stained his hand.
“Sorry,” Elle said. “Are you hurt?”
“Bleeding to death,” he said sullenly and turned back to the vent.
“Move over,” Elle said and wiggled her way in beside him.
“Go away,” Zander hissed.
“What is your problem?” Elle whispered back as she slid in beside him. The quarters were close and she continually jabbed him with her elbow so he’d make room. She looked at the wound on his head. “Ouch,” she said. “You’re bleeding.”
“Thanks for noticing and asking,” Zander whispered forcefully. “I’m surprised you just didn’t look in my head and find out what my problem was. Besides the blood that is. Which is all your fault.”
“Zander,” Elle started then stopped as he quickly moved his hand over her mouth.
“They are going to hear us,” he mouthed and pointed down.
Elle froze into place and tilted her head towards the vent. Sure enough, voices could be heard.
“Where are we?” She asked inside Zander’s mind.
“Over father’s office.”
“So we are agreed?” Lilly asked.
“Great, you made me miss something.”
“Are they talking about us?”
“More like you and Boone.”
“I just want them to be happy,” Lilly continued. “But I also would like to keep them young a bit longer. And safe.”
“All that worry…over nothing really,” Shaun said.
“Zander?” His mother’s question. Always the question.
Here it came again. The disappointment. If only he knew what it was they expected of him. What exactly was it that he was supposed to be able to do? Be like Elle? Read people’s minds? See in the dark? Slam doors and make things fly across rooms?
“They wouldn’t believe us even if we told them,” Lilly said. “They’d still take him if they had a chance.”
“Who are they talking about?” Elle asked in his mind.
Zander shrugged. All the years of listening and he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t feel guilty about it either. He wasn’t doing anything that Elle couldn’t or wouldn’t do. He was just doing it in a different way.
“Physically,” Shaun said. “He’s amazing. I have no doubt that he could protect himself. And he’s only going to get stronger, quicker, as he matures.”
“Not against the Circe,” Lilly said. “Even with the mind training…”
Elle grabbed Zander’s arm.
“What are the Circe?”
“I don’t know.” It was the first time he had ever heard his parents mention the word.
“Even after all this time, I find it hard to believe that he can’t do it,” Shaun said. “Could he be that stubborn? Could he be hiding it, even from you?”
“He could be that stubborn,” Lilly said. “After all he is your son…”
Shaun laughed.
“And he has shown signs,” Lilly continued.
“But he was so small.”
“And he was right,” Lilly said. “At least the one time. I guess we’ll never know about the other.”
“What are they talking about?”
Zander ignored her. He didn’t want to miss anything that his parents said.
“It was so obscure, how could we even know?” Shaun said.
“I wondered about that myself,” Lilly said. “Until he did the same thing with Ruben. For some reason he knew he was in danger.”
“When has Ruben not been in danger,” Shaun laughed.
“Since he married Tess,” Lilly answered. “But you still have to admit that it had to be more than a coincidence.”
“If only there’d been more…signs…”
“I don’t know. I wish I did. But I don’t.”
It was strange to hear his mother admit it. The silence from below made his realize how strange. He didn’t have to be in the room to know that his parents were worrying over something. If only he knew what it was? If only he knew what it was they were protecting them from.
They heard a knock on the door and then Ruben’s voice. “Well I’ve beaten my son into a bloody mass. Do you need any help with yours?”
“I haven’t seen Zander since he stormed off,” Shaun said.
“Boone thinks you should tell them,” Ruben said. “He thinks it’s not fair that he knows and they don’t.”
“That’s your fault,” Shaun said. “I’m just amazed that he’s kept it from them.
“Boone gave his word Shaun,” Ruben said quietly.
“I meant Elle,” Shaun said quickly. “She could have found out, even by mistake. His mind is strong.”
“Yes it is.”
“I knew he knew something. I saw that he was blocking.”
“He let you in?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
Elle didn’t answer. Instead she squirmed her way out of the tunnel.
“Coward.” Zander threw after her. He turned to listen again but heard the sound of the door closing below. They had left the study. Zander pushed his way out and ran after Elle.
“Wait,” he said. He wiped at the blood on his face and was surprised that the gash didn’t hurt. It had throbbed when he first did it but he had forgotten the pain when he was listening to his parents talk.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now Zander,” Elle said when he caught up to her. “I’m still trying to figure things out.”
“Where is Boone?”
“Ruben sent him to get Tess and Zoey at the vineyard and bring them back. Apparently they didn’t know he was home from Academy.”
“You mean he came here first?”
“Yes.”
“He really does love you.”
“I know. But he’s had something to compare it with. He’s met a lot of girls.”
“Jealous?”
Elle made a face. “How do I know if I love Boone or if it’s just because he’s the only boy I’ve ever known? Don’t I need something to compare it with?”
“At least you know someone else besides me. You’re the only girl I’ve ever seen, besides the servants and they’re all old.”
“Thanks,” Elle said. “I think.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know,” she agreed. “And I don’t know. Aren’t you tired of not knowing?”
Their feet followed a familiar path along a dark tunnel that led to an opening that overlooked the lake and the hidden landing bay. From there they would be able to see Boone return.
And it was the one place they were allowed to go that they felt a bit of freedom.
“Maybe there is one thing we could know,” Zander said as they walked out into the afternoon sun. The light dazzled the water until it was a pure silver and they both blinked against the brightness after being in the tunnels.
“What do you mean?”
“Mother said I knew Ruben was in danger when I was little.”
“As in you showed some of the psychic abilities.” Elle said. “I don’t remember it happening. I just remember Ruben coming back with Tess, Boone, and Ky and saying that you were really the one who saved his life.”
“Ky.” Zander said, recalling the huge newf that had been Boone’s shadow for years. Ky had died of old age the summer before Boone went to Academy. It was surely a good thing he died then. He would have died of loneliness had Boone left him behind.
“Boone’s misses him.”
“I know. I miss him too,” Zander said. “But mother also said there was another time.”
“And you want me to help you remember it.”
“You can, can’t you?”
“I’ve never done it.”
“But you know how.”
“Yes. I know how.”
“Then do it.”
Elle chewed on her lip for a moment as she looked out over the lake. Zander saw a vision of their mother doing the same thing. She did look just like their mother, who was still young and beautiful.
Too bad he wasn’t more like their father. He looked like him but he wasn’t like him. Maybe he would have been trusted with some knowledge, the way Boone had been.
And just maybe it was time he figured some stuff out on his own.
“Sit down,” Elle said. “And make sure you open your mind.”
They sat down facing each other with their ankles propped on their knees in the meditation position that their mother had taught them. As one they closed their eyes and took a deep breath, clearing their minds of any errant thoughts that would interrupt Elle’s concentration.
“Are you ready?” She didn’t have to ask permission. She could have just looked.
“Yes.”
Elle placed her fingertips on Zander’s temple and then just as suddenly jerked them away.
“Zander,” she said. “Where did the blood come from?’
“From my head. I hit it when you snuck up on me.”
“Where’s the cut?”
Zander touched his fingertips to his temple. The blood was dry on his cheek but he felt no cut. He wet his fingers with his tongue and scrubbed against the blood.
“There’s nothing there,” Elle said. She searched the dark locks of his hair. “Nothing. It’s gone.”
“You mean it healed?”
“Or disappeared. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his temple again, wondering if he possibly could have imagined it.
The blood was still there, cracking on his cheek.
“Has this ever happened before?”
“Maybe. I don’t remember.”
“Well either it has or it hasn’t.”
“Or maybe it’s just not important enough to think about.” He was irritated. It seemed to be a permanent condition for him. “How quick to you heal?”
“I’ve never been hurt like that. I don’t know.”
Elle had missed most of the scrapes and falls that he had when they were young. She was born with a natural grace. Zander tried to recall the last time he’d been injured.
“I remember falling down sometimes, scraping my knees. Maybe I do heal fast.”
“It’s strange,” Elle said. She seemed worried.
“Don’t worry about it,” Zander said. “You can catalog all my injuries while your inside.”
“We should tell them,” Elle said. “Maybe it’s a sign of something.”
“Like what? Your son is more of a disappointment than you thought?”
“Zander. They are not disappointed in you. They just don’t understand why I can do things and you can’t.”
“Says the daughter who can do anything.”
“It you’re going to be a gank then I’m not going to help you.” Elle jumped to her feet and stalked to the entrance to the tunnels.
“Elle wait.” Zander went after her. “I’m sorry. Please help. You’re the only one I can trust.”
He felt as if he were looking in a mirror when he stared earnestly into her eyes. They were identical in shape, in color, even down to the dark shade of their lashes. It was confusing sometimes, to look into her eyes. He felt as if he were almost looking inside himself.
And then he realized that she could look inside of him and the frustration would come forth again.
There had been a time, when they were small when it didn’t matter what she could do and he couldn’t. They shared everything through her powers. But then their bodies had changed and with that their attitudes and they started keeping secrets from each other.
He needed to make sure that Elle didn’t see the dreams.
“We need to hurry,” Elle said as she stared back at him. “They might think we ran off again.”
Zander nodded and they moved back to their positions.
“If there’s someplace you don’t want me to go, just tell me,” she said.
Resentment flared that she even knew that he kept secrets but he quickly tamped it down, using the litany that their mother had taught them.
I’m ready…
Elle’s fingers touched his temples and he felt her slide into his mind with a gentleness that he never truly noticed before.
It was almost comforting.
“Our memories are shared Zander.”
“Not all of them. Not my…”
“I have dreams too. Relax.”
Zander willed his worries and frustrations into submission. He felt the warmth of the sunshine on the side of his face. He felt the heat radiating from the stone cliff they sat on. He felt the kiss of the breeze as it whipped across the lake. He heard the sigh of the trees that grew miraculously from fissures and cracks in the mountainside.
His life opened before him as if he were watching a dige, except that it moved backwards, as if he were winding up a ball of the thread that Tess used in her weavings.
Backwards they went until they were children, small, and innocent, comforted just by being with their parents. They were adored.
Suddenly he wasn’t with his parents or his sister. He was with Ruben. He was piloting his ship and was under attack. He saw the blasts that rocked the ship. He felt the panic. Sheer terror overcame him as the ship careened towards the ground and crashed.
“Elle?”
“Wait…”
Was it a memory of his? Or was it something he imagined from listening to the stories that were told about Ruben’s adventures. Boone had seen the crash. Was it one of his memories mixed up with his own?
“You saw it Zander. Boone saw it coming, but you saw it as if you were there, inside the ship.”
“How?”
“There’s more.”
He saw himself once again as a small boy, playing with a brightly color starship on a plush rug. Elle was beside him with one of her beloved dolls. His father and grandfather were inside, discussing the politics of the planet. His mother and Ruben were on the balcony and his mother was searching Ruben’s memories, exactly the way Elle was searching his.
Suddenly his mind saw a dark and dreary place. Not like the tunnels that they walked with their father as he encouraged them to try to see in the dark.
This place was dim, dingy, and dirty. There were bars and there were chains. The only light came from a torch that tried gallantly to fight back the darkness.
Three women were gathered around a narrow plank attached to a wall. Two of the women were dressed in dark robes and wore strange poufy hats that were decorated with beads and crystals. The third woman was dressed in simple clothes and held a lay on the plank in a ragged and bloody gown and she was pleading with the other three.
“Give me my baby,” she cried. “Please.”
The other women ignored her. They looked at a baby that cried loudly in protest against the arms that held her as the mother cried out.
“What color are her eyes,” one woman asked. She seemed older than the others. Much older.
The woman holding the baby moved the child around so that the torch light reflected in her eyes.
“Dark,” she said. “Violet.”
“tisk,” the older woman said. “I thought perhaps we might be on to something with the breeding. Her father did have the blood line, even if he is a rebel.” The woman gathered her robes and turned away from the crying baby.
“What about the mother?” the woman holding the baby asked. “She needs a healer.”
The younger woman paused at the entrance to the cell. “Let her die,” she said. “She has been tainted by the rebels and is of no further use to us.”
The women left. The one holding the child looked with sympathy down on the woman who was bleeding to death before her eyes. “At least your daughter will live,” she said. “We will find a place for her to serve.”
“No,” the woman cried weakly. “Please,” and then she sighed. “Sagan.”
The child screamed as her mother’s life faded away and as she screamed Zander felt her pain and he screamed also.
“ZANDER!”
His eyes flew open. He was lying on his side and his hands were clenched against his face as if he were battling something inside. Something trying to get out. Elle held onto him and he realized that he was extremely close to the edge of the cliff.
“What was it?” she asked. “What did you see?”
He pushed himself backwards until he rested against the solid foundation of the mountain.
Elle’s eyes were on him, intently serious as if she were searching for a wound.
“Didn’t you see it?” His heart pounded in his chest. He felt as if he had just run a race. And his life had been the prize.
“No. It was if a door closed. But I felt something…sadness…terror…then you started screaming. What was it?”
“A baby. I saw a baby. There were women. The baby’s mother died.”
“That’s it?”
“The baby was a girl,” he added. “What do you think it means?”
Violet eyes.
“I don’t know.” Elle chewed on her lip again. “Maybe Mother can see it.”
“No.”
“Zander.”
“I don’t want her inside my head. I don’t want either of them inside my head.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
He climbed to his feet. Why did he feel so weak? “Boone’s back,” he said, pointing towards the sky.
Elle reached up and he took her hand, pulling her to her feet. They stood on the cliff, side by side, as they watched the sleek craft circle the crater and then come in, skimming over the water until it reached the landing bay below.
“Let’s go see how much trouble we’re in,” he said and they turned into the tunnels as one.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Wicked Words


Some time ago, there was a discussion of cursing on this blog. I'm inspired to take up the topic again by having recently read Steven Pinker's new book, THE STUFF OF THOUGHT. The author of highly readable, provocative, and densely informative earlier books such as THE LANGUAGE INSTINCT and HOW THE MIND WORKS, in this new volume he explores "Language as a Window into Human Nature." Some of the contents make heavy going and require the navigating of technical linguistic terms, but two fascinating chapters are worth the price of the book (or at any rate worth borrowing a copy from the library): Chapter Eight, "Games People Play," about the language of politeness, plausible deniability, and social pretense in general (why do we ask for the salt in, strictly speaking, nonsensical utterances such as, "Could you pass the salt?" instead of just saying, "Give me the salt"?); and Chapter Seven, "The Seven Words You Can't Say on Television." By the way, I was delighted finally to learn what those fabled seven words were (pre-cable TV) and surprised to find "tits" on the list. Personally, I can think of quite a few terms more objectionable than that almost-cute synonym for mammaries.


Pinker lists the categories from which taboo words are typically drawn in Earth's languages as sex, excretion, religion, death and disease, and groups of people considered inferior. For an example of the latter, in our otherwise libertine linguistic climate one insult commonplace fifty or sixty years ago has become so taboo that most people won't pronounce it even to discuss it, instead using the euphemism "the n-word." Another interesting factor about rude words is that their substitution with euphemisms produces a constantly receding horizon; the connotation sooner or later taints the euphemism. For instance, "bathroom," which began as a euphemism, has become the most blunt term most people will use in polite company for what's more often called the restroom, powder room, little girls' room (or, in our office, labeled by the locative phrase "down the hall"). Many readers might be surprised to learn that "retarded," now displaced by "mentally challenged," originated as a euphemism; it was meant to imply that the child wasn't feebleminded, just a bit slower than his peers. Other sometime-obscenities fall in and out of grace. Prior to the nineteenth century, a few of those taboo seven words were perfectly acceptable in sober writing, whereas the formerly obscene "bloody" has lost its bite, for Americans anyway (I don't know about contemporary Britons), so that Eliza Doolittle's indulgence in that word sounds funny to us instead of shocking. "Bitch," which in my youth was acceptable in polite company only among dog breeders, now seems to be considered unexceptionable by lots of otherwise courteous speakers.


Pinker maintains that religious-themed swearing has lost its offensiveness for Americans, to which I respond, "Speak for yourself, Dr. Pinker." I still wince at a casual "damn," and hearing people invoke the name of the Deity loosely or, worse yet, abusively sounds almost as painful to me as the F-word. However, I'm amused and bemused to read that in some European countries taboo curse words include such innocuous ecclesiastical terms as "chalice" and "host" (Eucharistic wafer), without which it would be hard to describe the conduct of an ordinary Sunday service in a Catholic or Anglican church. On page 337 of THE STUFF OF THOUGHT, Pinker lists numerous "bowdlerized alternatives" for taboo words, such as "gosh," "gee," and "darn" for "God," "Jesus," and "damn." The guidelines of at least one inspirational romance publisher forbid the characters to speak any of those euphemisms, because of their status as thinly disguised substitutes for profanity. Given these restrictions, characters in this publisher's novels wouldn't be able to emit any kind of realistic utterance in moments of shock, pain, fear, or anger—except maybe an inarticulate "ouch" or "aargh." Or maybe they'd resort, as I do, to comic-book expletives such as "curses" or "heavens to Murgatroyd" (no, probably no profane references to Heaven allowed).


In Huxley's BRAVE NEW WORLD, where all human infants are conceived and grown in vitro, "mother" and "father" are the two unspeakable obscenities. I once read an SF novel whose title I can't remember about a future society in which the sexual F-word is commonplace, but "fight" is obscene (a speech practice that does have a certain seductive logic, except that the sexual F-word derives from roots meaning to beat or strike and is so often used abusively that I can't make myself perceive its connotations as erotic). In Jacqueline Lichtenberg's Sime-Gen series, the most shocking obscenities relate to interruptions in the selyn flow process. Her invented terms "shen" and "shid" have the linguistic virtue of incorporating the short, blunt sounds we associate with real-world taboo words. The common denominator of taboo words, according to Pinker, relates to phenomena that are vitally important to human beings and yet sometimes disgusting or potentially fraught with danger. So, as we discussed on this blog previously, alien characters would curse in terms that relate to whatever topics are most emotionally sensitive for them. The natives of Venus in Heinlein's SPACE CADET have taboos surrounding food; healthy people old enough to understand proper etiquette never eat in the presence of others. Therefore, blunt speech about eating is obscene for Venusians. For Jacqueline's Simes, the monthly need for selyn is more important than food or sex, so taboo words relate to selyn transfer. WATERSHIP DOWN includes numerous examples of rabbit language, woven so smoothly into the narrative that when in the climactic battle one of the heroes casts an obscene insult (roughly meaning, "Eat s--t!") at the villain, we understand it without translation and get the full emotional force. Would a vampire society use "bloody" as a curse?