Archive for April, 2010

It’s interesting to watch rules people work. They discover a problem then create a rule to correct it. When it doesn’t work the way they thought, they begin to modify it, creating a diving spiral of unintended consequences and revisions. Most of us would just junk it when we discovered it didn’t work…but not the rules people. They seem unwilling to admit they’ve made a mistake, but the rest of us have to live with the fiascos they impose.
They don’t know the simplest rules are always the best, like the biblical commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” Now, THAT’S a good rule, simple, straightforward, and to the point…no exceptions. I used a Christian reference because that’s the one I know best, but in fact, all the great religions of the world are similarly brightened by such direct and pertinent one-liner rules. How come our rules people can’t at least study ideal rules like those when they sit down to write more of them?
People are always talking about “moral compasses”. Maybe rules guys don’t have needles on theirs, or maybe it’s just a lot harder to write simple, new, innovative rules than they think. My favorite rules disaster was Prohibition, Thou shalt not drink…like THAT ONE was going to last! What kind of isolation booth were those guys living in? Must be kind of sturdy because it hasn’t stopped others from implementing equally dumb rules destined to fail.
Often when they are trying to convince people to adopt their ideas, they tell us it’s like herding cats, and it’s true. You can’t herd cats…dogs either, for that matter, but they’ve picked a bad example. Pets tend to trust their masters instinctively, and sometimes they’re wrong. Sadly it’s part of their makeup to keep hoping the misery will end, but it almost never does.
Such unfortunate creatures choose to go quietly insane rather than get the hell out of Dodge. It’s a little like our problem with nonsensical rules, but we don’t go ya-ha. Okay, maybe some people do, but the rest of us just get mad. We yell at the TV set, an inanimate object utterly incapable of understanding. Maybe we even throw a shoe at it if we’re pissed enough.
Don’t worry TV set, we’re not really mad at you; we’re mad at STUPIDITY, and unfortunately for you, there’s a lot of it floating around. Problems exist; we know that, but when solutions create even more problems than we had at first, our stupidity monitors peg at quantum. When are they ever going to learn? You can’t micromanage a culture; you have to lead it…carefully, wisely, and using as many great and universal one-liner rules as possible.
I know they won’t understand that last sentence, so I’ll give them a few examples: respect the people you wish to lead, do no harm, don’t make sacrifices for other people…that’s their job, spend the money people lend you wisely and if you can’t find a wise way to do it, DON’T DO IT, everybody wants happiness, so if what you’re thinking about will cause unhappiness, forget it, and if what you do doesn’t work, try to avoid being like those cats and dogs…UNDO IT!
There are a lot more, but I think you get the picture.

It’s time to do it. A book club invited me to their next meeting, so I better get serious about what I want to say. I never thought about things like this when I wrote that sucker, but I guess somebody’s going to ask me why I wrote it at all. The simple answer is I wanted to, the more complex is in my Thank You, Emily Dickinson entry. I’m a writer. I write; it’s part of my soul.
Actually, this story has been rattling around in my head for a good while. I just never had the time to do anything about it until recently, and it really wanted to be born. I didn’t have to think about it a lot; words gushed into my yellow tablets on their way to the word processor. I knew where I wanted to start, where I needed to end up, and what I wanted to do along the way. It was fun to write…and fun is good.
I’m sure this question will pop up. “Did you base your characters on people you’ve known?” That’s a hard one to answer honestly. There are parts of people I know or knew in all the characters. It’s impossible to write without an appreciation of those you’ve encountered during your journey, but no single person has all you need when you create a fictional being. You kind of pick and choose: one guy’s anger, another’s compassion, yet another’s utter disinterest and apathy. You build a character, slap a skin around him (or her), and turn him loose to do whatever he wants. All he has to do is stay with the roadmap…and sometimes he tries to avoid doing even that. You’ve got to be stern with those rebellious little creatures you’re dreaming up.
My novel is set a hundred years from now…and right here. I know a lot of sci-fi people just love novels set in the unimaginably distant future, but they’re optimists. I’m a realist. When I fantasize that far ahead, I have to fight hard not to picture this planet a dead, empty world, or maybe a cinder, but there are advantages to projecting a story so far into the unknown…like “skyhook solutions.” You know…you’ve boxed your story into a hopeless corner, so you invent something extraordinary to keep it moving. Who’s gonna argue with you? Not me, but I tried to keep mine in the not-too-distant future and tried even harder to use information and devices we have here and now…well, maybe a couple of things we’ve never seen before. I may have yielded to temptation in a few places. I hope they don’t press me too hard about those.
And I’m certain some confused person will finally ask me, “What the hell’s it all about?” But I’m ready for him…remember my roadmap? This novel is about BEING, what it is to exist and share existence with others, sometimes profoundly different others. It’s about the family of sentient beings, and the relationships they develop with little more than the capability of thought in common. The novel begins with a birth and ends with a death, events any life form capable of intelligent interaction and fear would appreciate, although perhaps in different ways.
One guy reviewed the book. He wasn’t too crazy about it, but he missed the whole point, even got the story wrong. I’d take him seriously if lots of other people I’ve met personally hadn’t read and understood it in an eyeblink. Maybe all writers think that way when they discover somebody who doesn’t see eye-to-eye, but work with me here. A lot of people really liked it. I choose to consider that critic guy an idiot. Maybe he just wasn’t willing to invest that many of his “little gray cells.” He should try. It’s rewarding…even fun. It seems to me he could use a little of that.
Being…that’s what I wanted to name my novel at first, but there were already too many named that, or something too similar to ignore: Beings, Being Human, Of Beings, etc. For a while, I even thought about We, but it was obvious…I had to find some other title. I was sad until I re-explored my theme. The sentient beings in my novel learn and grow; they become enlightened…about themselves and others, kind of like a new day…a dawning…surprise, surprise! At that point it became Dawn on Earth. I like it and I’m sticking with it.
Bye for now, readers. Okay, book club, bring it on; I’m ready for you.

Let’s face it. I like kings; they’re fun! That’s why I put one in my novel, but I have to admit, I like him much more than real leaders running around today. I was trying to show what an inspiring leader could be: human, honorable, compassionate, and driven by an intense desire to make things better…and if you think the idea of a monarch is anachronistic, just count the number of them alive and kicking right this minute.
I don’t think my guy would be even slightly distracted by the crap swirling around today, but he’s made-up and represents what we’re always looking for, somebody who cares…who has real feelings and actually cares. It seems politicians don’t; mostly they just want to get re-elected…like that’s such a big deal. Don’t they know we usually elect the lesser of evils, suspended as we are between fear and uncertainty?
A president always has about half the people rooting for him…okay, maybe sometimes a teenie bit more. We elect a guy (sorry, no gals yet) then we sit, watch TV, bite our nails, and pray…sometimes a lot…but what else can a body do? Everyone wants somebody we can look up to, no matter the polls, the grass-roots hysteria, or the unsatisfied promises. We want somebody up there we can revere, but it’s hard to revere an elected official unless he’s been dead at least a hundred years. If you don’t believe me, ask Lincoln. He’s idolized, but Truman is still iffy. By my reckoning, we won’t know what we think about him until 2072.
A king’s lucky; he has theater going for him, and it’s breathtaking in a way. Flowing in, he gets instant reverence, and we bow, smile, and hope he notices us. A king is special…God knows why…it’s just the way we’re wired. He might be crazy as hell, an ax murderer, a child molester, or a tyrant, but we bow anyway. He’s a KING! Or a queen…queens do the same thing to us…actually any royalty, even ex-royalty selling weight-loss products on TV.
Paradoxically, a modern leader or monarch’s only pitfall comes if we find out he’s human. If he (or she) screws up even a little, the tabloids get wind of it, and they never let anybody forget. It’s a little sad. They’d like to be people, but they can’t. Their status won’t let them, and we wind up with one-dimensional, politically correct, photo-oppy, would-be leaders so carefully crafted they look like dolls and sound like recordings.
And all the while, down here, we’re drowning, Mr. and Ms Politician…and you, too, Your Highnesses. It feels like we’re on a rudderless ship slipped from its moorings. Meaningless promises, empty hopes, hollow thrones, vapid leaders…where’s honor in our world? Even more, where’s purity…or innocence? We long for them, so where are they? WHERE ARE THEY? It could be they’re gone for good…which is even sadder.
I write books and create worlds I’d like to live in. Usually, they’re nice places, soft, warm, and friendly at the end, after a few deaths here and there and, hopefully, an exciting ride, but I’m not burdened with the task of trying to make them real. That’s a job for an actual leader. Thank God I’m only a novelist.