Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A Reunion with Robb


I've decided that I'm going to cheat here.  See, for me to lay down exactly what this series is about (the series is almost 50 books deep) would cause me to burst into tears in an attempt to pull off a summary in one, clip paragraph.  With that said, I've got a link HERE that summarizes the story so far–from the author's own website.  If you're curious, click there.  Other than that, here's my last thoughts on this particularly entry in J. D. Robb's In Death series.

So it’s been exactly two years since J. D. Robb’s Delusion in Death (book 35 in her Eve Dallas series) was released, and two years since I got 20 pages in and decided to put it down. That’s where I stopped reading the series, having decided that after the disappointment of book 33, New York to Dallas, that I had my fill of Eve’s resurging past drama.  Nonetheless, I won't spoil anything.  Truly, it is a great and addictive series if all else fails. Recently, I've been thinking about the series–despite my previous complaints at its lack of character momentum and resolution–before I followed the urge to pull myself back into its world. It all just kept calling me back.

So what have I missed in two years? Well, Delusion in Death takes place in the year 2060. It opens inside of a crowded bar called On the Rocks (Robb was always, always kind of corny with names) in Manhattan’s Lower West Side. The bar is crowded during happy-hour, with business professionals searching for unwinding conversations and equally effective drinks. Everything seems sunny and cheerful until the headaches start. Like an invisible wave, those headaches quickly entice a blind rage that sweeps the brains of the bar’s patrons.  Suddenly, On the Rocks becomes a bloodbath where the once docile and tipsy patrons start a full-out assault against what appears to be their worst nightmares. The murderous frenzy leaves eighty dead. Only a few survive to tell their story.


Naturally, homicide lieutenant Eve Dallas reports to the scene, stepping her way over the bodies as she gathers evidence. Furthermore, considering her husband Roarke owns the bar, Eve has her hands full keeping his stake in the matter at bay. Nonetheless, through witness accounts and a set of interviews, Eve eventually uncovers the connection between an aerial hallucinogenic that swept the bar, and a buried apocalyptic cult called Red Horse. The question then becomes who is responsible for reviving the cult’s method of mass murder? Will he or she strike again? And how can Eve and her team stop the murderer and put the formula behind the airborne hallucinogen where no one else can ever have access to it?

So after a two-year hiatus from the series, I have to say that I did enjoy stepping back into Eve Dallas’s world. All the joshing between Eve and Roarke and Eve and her partner Peabody were present still.  I'm grateful for that, because the dialogue between characters are probably this series' strongest element. So I did miss the characters, and it felt great to be back alongside the cast during one of their investigations. Nonetheless, like usually, there are a number of other cast members who make up Eve’s team (and support) that continue to show and crowd up the pages. Having started the series in 2008, I'm very familiar with the cast, but after my little two-year break, I actually started to grow weary of some of them. There are just too many with minor purposes and even lesser development. Trueheart is still Trueheart, the green-around-the-ears cop. Baxter is still Baxter, Trueheart's mentor. Morris is still Morris, the cool medical examiner. (And you probably have absolutely no idea who these characters are!)  Like the series itself, character development often appears stagnant.  Now that's notwithstanding how each book/investigation covers approximately a weekend’s worth of time–give or take.  But regardless, a shake up in the cast is long past due.


As for the actual detection and police procedural portion, nothing much as change. On occasion does Robb write some solid action mixed with some even better avenues of investigation. And I mention that in regard to some of the other books in the series. Delusion, however, was mostly tepid in this area. Almost all opportunities to showcase Eve’s detection skills were unimaginative. To me, someone else is doing all the cooler stuff off-stage before handing Eve the information necessary to build her case.  To my chagrin, this is very contrary to her “digging up the dirt“ and "getting dirty" herself. In turn, this leaves Eve capable of only doing two things: processing interviews and staring at her murder board until an idea strikes. The former she pulls off excellently; it’s always a joy to watch Eve interview witnesses and suspects. The latter she more or less dispatches another cast member to act on her idea. I suppose she can do that as the lieutenant, and even in the very end she played a more active role in the story's conclusion. 

Nevertheless, it would be nice to see Eve untangling a little more than the files on her PPC (Personal Portable Computer). Even so, the series isn't so bad if you like Eve–which I do.  Not only do I find her charming, but she's also one of those characters that ask for your loyalty just as she displays it to her cast of supporters.  You learn to trust her as a reader.  She's the good guy. This is why I'm kind of glad I'm enthused about the series again. For me to detail what I love and what I dislike about the series would take an eternity, so from this point on, I’m just going to enjoy the ride and complain and marvel my way through to its end.

Super side note: thank goodness Robb chilled out on the comma splices this time around.   And what about those rumors that the series is now ghostwritten?  Anyone have a clue?

Friday, September 19, 2014

Towel, the Girl Who Loves Sweets


I found this sketch while cleaning out a couple of sketchbooks, drawing tablets and portfolios.  There, tucked underneath a couple of bags from Hobby Lobby, lay this drawing.  I don't recall when I started it, or why I stopped.  I just looked at it and was suddenly inspired to create something sweet, using my favorite blond character, Towel (that's her nickname)!  The thing is that I fought the impulse to make changes to the sketch.  Instead, I wanted to act right away with the coloring process.  Didn't want to think too much.  Just wanted to grab the sketch and move.


As always, inking comes next.  My favorite Precise V5 pen did the grunt work.  Followed by a simple yellow Sharpie (yes, Sharpie) to outline her hair.  Last, I used a sand-colored Copic marker to outline and give a little shadow/shading.  I chose the skin-toned markers according to–you guessed it–skin tone.  And though she's blond, it doesn't mean she's a tanned blond.  Nevertheless, I always try to shadow lightly, throwing the whole concept of coloring "by light source" out the window.  I also used a flesh-colored Copic marker to guide her upper lip so I wouldn't lose the shape before I added a darker color.


Here, I water colored her hair a simple canary yellow.  And because her eyes are brown, I gathered my usual three-tones to give her eyes a gradient-like effect. Always more color!


X-acto knife ready, I carved away the negative space to get her ready for the felt, ice cream backdrop I decided to use.  I didn't glue her on right away because I knew that it would be a mess to do so first and then start using chalk pastels.  I also knew it would be a mess to add the chalk pastels and then use the x-acto knife to carve her off the negative space.  So for a while, I had me a cute paper doll tapped to my drawing board.



I normally use a dark toned pastel to match a character's hair, but here I used a matching yellow instead.  I coated her lips with a dark pink Prismacolor pencil.  These are my favorite pencils because of their soft, creamy tips.  As for the chalk pastel, used for her skin toned, I chose a shade of brown that I more or less liked when I first laid it down.  I managed to even it out by blending in a lighter flesh color, running a dry paper towel over the two to even her out.  Of course, I used a thin-tipped eraser to clean the edges.


Three Prismacolor pencils used to add layers and effect to her hair.  A very light canary yellow, golden rod yellow, and an almost sienna brown were used.  Once the streaks of pencil are in, I use another dry paper town to blend it all in with the chalk pastel.  Then I use a gummy eraser to add highlights in long streaks.  I retook the Precise V5 pencil to fill in her pupil and mark some effect lines on the edges of her iris.  Lastly, I glued her to the felt, seemingly as if she came out of a pocket of space.


The digital scan.  But first, I added the usual whiteout shimmer to her lips and eyes.  I also added the cutie 3D stickers in support of the theme (sweets and ice cream).  The cherries work as earrings; the watermelon (hopefully) as a ring.  As for the drawing, I did the usual reviving of color the second I scanned it.  That seems necessary when a drawing moves into digital format.  I also cleaned up around her arm.  When I found the original sketch there were marks I had to work over that I knew during the process were going to need retouching.  I have yet to retouch her left eyebrow by slimming it down and back some.  And while her arm is a little shapeless, I decided to leave it as it is.  As I mentioned earlier, I didn't want to get into making adjustments to the sketching part; instead I jumped right in. 

Hopefully I didn't miss anything.  Yeah well, I know I did somewhere.  Anyway, thanks everyone for allowing me to share this!

 
Another on the way!

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Recom Request: Learning Japanese Characters


One day I decided I wanted to read Japanese manga in its native language.  Why not, considering I was obsessed with the drawings.  So I set out to teach myself when I was fourteen.  But first let me get this part absolutely straight: I am not fluent in Japanese after all these years. Even after taking two college courses on the language (years after I began my self-teaching journey of course), I am nowhere near voluble. Really, I would grade myself a three out of ten on a comprehension scale. I may be able to slide through the language as it relates to speaking conversationally, though. Nonetheless, fluent I hardly am; much to my disappointment. And most of that has to do with a lack of daily practice as well as an extreme lack of exposure to native speakers (I stress “extreme lack“). 

Still, I wanted to make a post sharing the book that got me started when I was fourteen, scanning my way through the international section of the public library. I found the book useful for a young beginner like myself. Even now–being moderately familiar with the language–I refer to it because of its refreshing simplicity. It does offer plenty but, like many language-learning tools, it gets its criticism also. Even so, I can say that I learned to read two out of the three forms of Japanese writing systems; I managed hiragana and katakana through the author’s visual mnemonics.  Hiragana and Katakana has always stuck with me without fail, much to my advantage later in college. However, learning the complicated strokes and compounds of kanji, featured later in the book, took some advanced tools. Nevertheless, that’s not to say that I didn't pick up a few from the book that assisted me down the road.  I mean, I can differentiate the kanji character for "sun" (=ni) and "month" (月=gatsu) clearly enough (the problem is when kanji characters fuse to make one jukugo). So at the end of the day, the book, Michael Rowley’s Kanji Pictographix, is a great start for those who decide to pick up and familiarize themselves with Japanese characters.

So I just wanted to share a little regarding this book and a few fundamentals of learning hiragana and katakana first. Then later, in another post, I'll show some other Japanese learning tools for beginners (like myself).

So what’s the difference between written Japanese hiragana and katakana. According to Rowley, hiragana is used to write words not normally written within the complexity of kanji, or as I see it, a means of deconstructing kanji characters into a simpler form. Therefore, it’s no wonder why hiragana (as well as katakana) is taught first to Japanese children. Nonetheless, the other function of hiragana is that it’s used for verb endings and speech. Example: applying the hiragana character for ka (at the end of a sentence or statement indicates that the person speaking is asking a question.

Now katakana characters are written differently than hiragana, but spoken with the same phonetics. The main different is that katakana is used to write names and words that aren't traditionally Japanese. An example would be "coffee." As a typical English (though not necessarily in its origin) word, it would be written in katakana (
 コーヒー)  in contrast to hiragana. And is further romanized as “Kōhī,” or pronounced “ko-hee”.

In case I’ve complicated this, I've included a few scans from Michael Rowley’s book to show you a few examples and to further my recommendation of this book for those just starting Japanese.

        Hiragana            Katakana          Hiragana     Katakana


Tuesday, September 16, 2014

What Oprah Knows For Sure

My personal journal nor this blog has yet to be a place where I can unload about the saddening event that took place on September 6th. It’s all so fresh that I haven't the words to put both my thoughts and the circumstances together. Conversely, to find the purpose in it (that‘s God‘s thing). Or cope with the truth that it was unavoidable. Personal guilt is somewhere stained in the equation also, though divinely speaking it‘s considered too toxic to muddle over. Nonetheless, the grief involved is real, just as the insurmountable faith I have that all is happening for a higher good. 

Understandably, much of what I just wrote may be vague and opaque to some, so one day I'll be able to share it properly.

The fact is that after a slow week filled with roaming thoughts and bouts of sorrow, I turned to Oprah Winfrey's recently released What I Know for Sure for comfort. I didn't pick it up to cope per se, as that’s something that takes time and time alone. No substitutes. Nonetheless, I picked the book up to re-energize my spirit as I coped. To not go too deep into the darkness, and to understand that I still have a responsibility to myself (and the one that’s gone but not gone), to keep showing up to Life.

What I Know for Sure is a collection of Oprah’s revelations regarding Life and living within it. It shares the mistakes she’s made, the lessons she’s learned, and the Truths she’s kept. All the essays were previously published in O, The Oprah Magazine.  I just wanted to share a few of my favorite quotes. Or as Oprah calls them, “aha moments."

"You can either waltz boldly onto the stage of life and live the way you know your spirit is nudging you to, or you can sit quietly by the wall, receding into the shadows of fear and self-doubt."

This is what I mean by showing up to Life.  You may not waltz boldly into it, but dammit, you got to at least be there and out of the shadows.  Maybe sticking out a foot is all you need to get started.  And definitely don't be afraid to try even when you don't have any answers or securities.  Matter-of-fact, forget those things.  Have faith that they'll come to you as you dance.  Because they will.

"Like me, you might have experienced things that caused you to deem yourself unworthy.  I know for sure that healing the wounds of the past is one of the biggest and most worthwhile challenges of life.  It's important to know when and how you were programmed, so you can change the program.  And doing so is your responsibility, no one else's.  There is one irrefutable law of the universe: We are each responsible for our own life."

While I understand that I still have childhood (and so forth) imprints and issues that require a level of therapeutic and spiritual healing (as you can see, I'm working on the spiritual part), the older I get the more I understand that I can't blame my past for my current being. It really just gets exhausting after so long, thinking about the things my mother and father did or did not do that I feel would've made things easy for me now. Or relate those incidents to how I would be in a better place currently. They are tired and useless thoughts, and they won't necessarily go away. However, what they have done is encourage me to take control–as much as possible–of my life.

Recently, my mom and I were leaving the mall. I brought up a broccoli, rice and cheese casserole recipe I found online, and how I made the dish twice in the past two months and enjoyed it both times. I further mentioned how I try to make large dishes early in the week, so that I can have something to eat off of throughout each day. This keeps me from spending money eating out after I leave work in the afternoon, as I find it comforting to know that ready-made food is in the house and ready to be devoured.  Her reply was the equivalent of how smart of an idea that is. Then she added how my sister frequently complains that she never has anything to eat, and how it's our mom's fault because she didn't teach us how to cook. I can attest that while that is more or less truth, I recall that I got cooking pointers a lot less often than my sister. But that's my point; I looked at my situation and took responsibility for it. If I wanted to eat and save money from dining out, I had to find a way to do so.  Blaming someone else for otherwise never even crossed my mind.

"One of my greatest lessons has been to fully understand that what looks like a dark patch in the quest for success is the universe pointing you in a new direction.  Anything can be a miracle, a blessing, an opportunity if you choose to see it that way.  Had I not been demoted from my six o'clock anchor post in Baltimore back in 1977, the talk show gig would never have happened when it did."

I don't lie when I say that the message behind this quote is one that I'm still working on. I believe I'm a lot closer to its realization than the lost and frustrated person I once was. Nonetheless, it's still something I'm working with. The truth is that I grasp the occasional moments of clarity where I feel the universe at work. Sometimes they're obvious moments, sometimes they're so subtle that I don't comprehend what happens until after the fact. Even so, between all of those moments are the moments where I feel like I'm just floating and alone in uncertainty. However, what I've learned is whenever I feel like the universe has abandoned me, I take myself back to gratitude. You absolutely cannot miss your miracles and blessings when you sit back and recall what's there to be thankful for. As well as how gratitude always brings you more to be grateful for.

"Talking with thousands of people over the years has shown me that there's one desire we all share: We want to feel valued.  Whether you're a mother in Topeka or a businesswoman in Philadelphia, each of us, at our core, longs to be loved, needed, understood, affirmed–to have intimate connections that leave us feeling more alive and human."

True enough, right?  No further discussion necessary other than I believe in this, and like thousands, long for the same.

"... The job that you admit makes you miserable demands so much of your time.  But what happens when you work hard at something unfulfilling?  It drains your spirit.  It robs you of your life force.  You end up depleted, depressed, and angry."

"I've learned that the more stressful and chaotic things are on the outside, the calmer you need to get on the inside.  It's the only way you can connect with where your spirit is leading you."

All of this I've known since I started my first paying job at 18. It was fast food. It was slinging fried chicken. For three years I screamed for release–for change. I knew that if I wanted money, I had to be there to earn a check. So I worked, and always harder than I should (I attributed that to my upbringing). When it comes to how jobs ("just over broke") make me feel disconnected and sometimes sick to my stomach, nothing has changed from then and now. Sure, I've learned to handle my inner self a little better. Sometimes putting myself damn near catatonic during the middle of a shift. It's a way for me to slip out of the place and into my head and where I will to be. Often I sing out loud, which usually comes out as noise used to depressurize the anxiety that builds in my chest. Still, it's partly no different than a tiger trapped in a cage, enclosed from his nature and natural instinct to be free at doing what he wills. Nonetheless, my point is that I relate and identify with Oprah's words here. I should, considering I've lived and fought my way through them long enough. Nevertheless, to me, the fact that I can write all of this down–in this moment–is a means of me listening to my inner calmness and not the chaos.  Therefore, I am guided slowly... from my cage.

"Move in the direction of your goal with all the force and verve you can muster–and then let go, releasing your plan to the Power that's bigger than yourself and allowing your dream to unfold as its own masterpiece.  Dream big–very big.  Work hard–very hard.  And after you've done all you can, fully surrender to the Power."

I think I'll leave this post on this quote–though there are plenty more to share.  Nevertheless, it's that "surrender" that took me from where I was two years ago to this point.  And the thought of it was motivated by this inspirational video I came across during that period.  I won't speak to much on it.  You'll just have to watch it for yourself and let it lift your spirit just as it did mine.

Monday, September 8, 2014

(2) Octavia Butler Shorts

The remaining two stories in Octavia Butler’s short-story collection, Bloodchild, are “Amnesty” and “The Book of Martha." These two stories were published as recently as 2003, and are just near novella size. Wait, what’s the word count used to define a novella?

In any regard, “Amnesty” is a story that reflects closely to its title’s definition. Amnesty is a means of official pardon, usually surrounding some kind of political affront of some sort; and that’s what takes place in the story as an alien species invades Earth before peacefully asking humans to co-exist with them as a source of "food." Not “food” in the carnivorous sense, but something much more abstruse and cerebral. You see, these aliens are called Communities, and they are made up of thousands of small aliens clustered together in a shape that resembles a large floating bush. Eerie, much! I think I was sick most of the time thinking about these aliens, considering I have a slight case of trypophobia. Nonetheless, that’s just another layer to Butler’s tale. The thing is that the Community came to Earth on a one-way trip, and while they have the means of taking over the planet, they try to co-exist peacefully. As a human woman who has survived both an abduction and harsh military interrogation, Noah Cannon’s job in “Amnesty” is to orient a handful of men and women looking to work alongside The Community for payment. Once more, distress sat in throughout reading this story. The good kind of distress I should say. To me “Amnesty” boils down to the snatching of human discretion. Put man over a barrel and let it be–so to speak. The aliens land, they offer mankind a choice. Should mankind decide not to respond nicely, it wouldn't matter one bit because the aliens will have their way regardless. Nonetheless, like most governing systems across the globe, citizens have no choice but to work with what is given to them.

“The Book of Martha” appeared to be one of those contemplative-grabbing, philosophical stories written by Butler outside of sci-fi. Really, it’s about a woman who finds herself standing before God. Summoned, actually. It seems God needs a human to construct a Utopia for mankind. What would work best? How would it work? And how would God’s chosen, Martha, conceive such a place? When you find out Martha’s idea, I wonder if you’ll agree with her. Or is a Utopia for mankind even possible? I enjoyed this story, but it wasn't one of my favorites.  That's mainly because I couldn't wrap my head around the importance of Martha and God's conversation.  Not that I didn't get it, I just wasn't sure there was an answer.  And the answer given wasn't all that convincing to me.  I should also add the slippery-slope fallacy encouraged by Martha's ideas and God's rebuttal of them. Really, I think it deserves a second read.  Or I should just stick to Neale Donald Walsh's take on a conversation with God.


The recently released collection of short stories by Butler are featured in the book Unexpected Stories. There are only two here, both noted as her early works according to Walter Mosley’s foreword and Butler’s once agent, Merrilee Heifetz (noted in the afterword). And early they seem; one story I completely abandoned and another I managed to sweep through nicely, seeing that it was like a prototype story to Butler’s grandness Patternist series. So yeah, let’s start with the story I abandoned first...

“A Necessary Being” is exclusively alien in its totality. Yep. That’s the way I’ll put it. An alien world. An alien cast. An alien story. Humanoid, if you will, in both their language and behavior. One of the main exceptions is that their skin changes color in accordance with their emotions. Nonetheless, from what I gathered (before I jumped the ship) Tahneh is an alien woman with a status similar to a Native American princess or priestess of some flavor (work with me here as I peel this story apart from my own imagery). She’s given this role because she comes from a race of aliens called Hao. Hao are kidnapped and held by another, similar alien species that uses Hao to govern over their race. Since her father’s passing, Tahneh has been alone, ruling and governing over her community of kidnappers. The story opens up with another Hao crossing through her territory. And she must decide whether to kidnap him and put him in a position such as hers, which subsequently provides her companionship. Or her other choice: let the young Hao pass freely and on into freedom. And that’s pretty much where I kind of bailed on the story. The truth is that I kept envisioning the creatures in the Avatar movie. Couple that with a general lack of interest, and I just decided to move on. I plan to come back to the story at a later date, seeing that Butler kind of started cutting her teeth on this story.

Nevertheless, I did finish and enjoyed the second story, "Childfinder."  Butler wrote and sold this one to her mentor, Harlan Ellison, back in the 70s. In “Childfinder” a telepathic (interchangeable with the term “psionic”) woman uses her gifts to locate, mentor, and mold telepathic and gifted children. These children are the future, and must be groomed in preparation for the possibilities it has in store for them. (You could say an alien invasion is one.) Nonetheless, this lone woman isn't the only one involved, as another, larger organization reaches out to do the same.  The different is the larger organization has a couple of “tougher” methods to get special children to cooperate. The story reminded me of the old 70s and early 90s version of The Tomorrow People (we won't speak on the 2013 remake). The Tomorrow People were about kids with special abilities, who were often dubbed as "the next stage in human evolution." They could teleport. They were telepathic. Some could even see the future. Meanwhile, the government and other smaller organizations were dead centered on capturing these kids for a host of not-so-comfortable levels of research.  In the meantime, the Tomorrow People thwarted alien wars and even an evil, resurrected Egyptian pharaoh. I also found “Childfinder” to be a preview of the eventual novels Butler would write in her Patternist series–particularly the second book in that series, Mind of my Mind. Though it was short and not totally expansive in its telling, I would say that I enjoyed “Childfinder” much more than the previous story. Butler makes it perfectly clear and evident that the future would be grim and mankind must arm its children's psionic evolution for the things to come if they want to stand a chance.

And that’s all there is. If you haven't read Bloodchild or Unexpected Stories, I urge you to do so now. Butler fan or not, these two books are the perfect introduction to her as well as the perfect expansions on her catalog of stories.  In either case, you shouldn't miss them!

PART 1 OF OCTAVIA BUTLER SHORTS

Sunday, September 7, 2014

(1) Octavia Butler Shorts

So scratch everything I said about re-trying Mercedes Lackey’s high fantasy novel, By the Sword, for the sake of getting out of this dilly-dally summer reading slump. That didn't work out. I got about 20 pages into that book and was still impossibly disinterested seventeen years later. Part of that disinterest comes–in fact–from my recent mention of balancing exposition in fantasy novels. Nonetheless, sure, I’ll try By the Sword again some time in the future. Until then, I decided to try the short story method of getting myself back into the groove of reading regularly and with a pace. And seeing that I can only seem to read short stories via the Kindle, I dug through the available books and found my digital copy of Octavia Butler’s short-story collection, Bloodchild. I suppose saving it for a rainy day worked; I quickly hammered through this award-winning collection of stories with easy and deep, familiar curiosity.

It’s been a minute since I visited one of Octavia Butler’s worlds. The last book I read by her was the final book in her Patternist series (which I highly, highly recommend). Nevertheless, I never forgot how many of her conceptualizations made me feel claustrophobic, terror and uncertainty.  She writes sci-fi–or speculative fiction–after all.  So all of those feelings her writing gives me probably isn't that much of a surprise, considering her genre of choice.  Still, altogether she is different. And maybe her advantage is that she’s a woman of color who features the same leads in her stories.  Leads that look, in part, like myself.  I also love how Butler often rearranges or reconstructs the sort of energy and presence of mankind in her post-apocalyptic stories.  Usually her stories are of mankind damn near pushed to extinction.  Subsequently, mankind has to evolve and rely on taxing alien beings to keep themselves extant.  And there is always, always a price. To me her writing is a blend of terrorizing and complicated choices that reflects American society (or the future thereof) to some degree.


While the majority of Bloodchild consists of short stories, each of those stories comes with an insightful afterword by Butler herself. In the afterwords she explains what she meant to achieve in each respective story as well as the thought behind their conception. A little over halfway through the book, we also get two essays written by Butler.  Following that are two novella length stories published within the last decade and before her death in 2006. Combined, all of this material was previously published in various magazines and literary publications throughout her 30+ year career. And if that wasn't enough, as recently as June of 2014, two of her early short stories were published in another collection titled, Unexpected Stories.


So what are the stories featured in Bloodchild? I'd better tell you a little about them and hope that you'll pick the collection up also.


The title story, “Bloodchild” is about how mankind is taken from Earth and onto another planet where an alien species–that resemble large centipedes as far as I can tell–develop relationships with human men before using them to nurture their offspring (eggs in this case). While that may sound not so disturbing, the truth is that this nurturing process comes in the form of impregnating human men. And with that said... I thought this was the perfect story to glide back into Butler’s work with *cue chuckle*. After over a year and half of having not read her, I immediately got that familiar claustrophobic feel back! “Bloodchild” brought me back to the entanglements present in Butler’s first book in her Xenogenesis series, Dawn. The only difference (besides length) is that "Bloodchild" seems slightly more distressing.  Not because this is Butler's sort of “pregnant man” speculative fiction story, but because of the imagery used to tell it.  Maybe it's because I have a problem with bugs and parasites.  I think that may be the better explanation.  Either way it was an outstanding read.


“The Evening, The Morning and The Night” tells the story of a nameless young woman who reminds me a lot of Lauren Olamina from Butler’s Parable of the Sower. I say this because they both seem to be philosophical in their thinking; filled with thought-provoking questions, and deeply interested in mankind's available resources.  Well, maybe Lauren had all those things going much more than said nameless young woman.  So maybe their similarities are within their narrative tone. In any regard, the nameless woman is born with a fictional disease called Duryea-Gode. The symptoms of this disease cause sufferers to go insane, enough so that they attempt to claw their way out of their own flesh. Those afflicted are treated through a number of humane and inhumane experimental treatments.  These treatments has taken place throughout decades as scientists research for a cure. And while that research is being conducted, those afflicted are seen as threats to society because of the late, and threatening, symptoms of the disease.  Therefore, society turns their backs on them in fear. However, there’s an institution (or facility) where the unnamed narrator visits with her boyfriend.  His mother is afflicted with Duryea-Gode, and she's in the "insane" stages of the disease. The facility the two visits kind of made me think of Waverly Hills Sanitarium, a place where tuberculosis sufferers were isolated during the early 20th century. Nevertheless, it turns out that the director of the facility manages the maniacal behavior of her patients through a pheromone she was born with. This pheromone calms or pacifies the patients. During the visit, our unnamed narrator discovers she also secretes this pheromone. Now what will she choose to do with that knowledge of herself?

The next short story, “Near of Kin” isn't speculative or sci-fi. However, it is thought-provoking as a modern story that follows a conversation between a young woman and her uncle. The two come together to sort through the young woman’s mother’s estate. The young woman's relationship with her mother was not good, as her mother was mostly withdrawn from her daughter. As the two sort through the dead woman’s estate, they also sort through to the bottom of her estrangement from the family. You may or may not see the truth before it’s announced. Me, I managed to catch what took place a good few pages before it was proclaimed between the two. I'll leave it at that. I ended this story feeling just as uncertain as the characters within it. “Near of Kin” left with that “where do we go from here?” kind of atmosphere.


“Speech Sounds” is probably one of my favorites. Once more, Butler uses disease to paint the complexity behind her story. This disease isn’t named, but what it does is take away speech and language as the basic means of communication.  The protagonist of “Speech Sounds” is a woman named Valerie Rye.  While a large percentage of the world is afflicted with the speech-less disease, Rye hides how she still retains her ability to speak. To share this truth puts her in danger with the world. During a routine bus ride, Rye witnesses a mute argument taking place between two men. Before it gets explosive, she jumps off the bus. This is where she meets a man who was once an LAPD police officer. Through a tumbling ASL exchange, Rye discovers his name is Obsidian. In this near dystopian world, Obsidian hasn't given up on law and order.  He uses tear gas to halt the bus fight. Afterwards, Rye and Obsidian slowly attach themselves to one another. Unable to speak, they ride around the city in Obsidian’s truck until they find themselves in another deadly conflict involving children. Silently, the two proceed to put a stop to this crime. One doesn’t make it out alive. It took me a moment to realize that “Speech Sounds” is absent of dialogue. It wasn't until much later when the speech-killing disease was revealed that I noticed. And like that one episode of Buffy called Hush, Butler pulled the lack of dialogue out cleverly. And like always, while the story is always wonderful, it once again shows the sort of lack of trust Butler has in the relationships between people.  Meaning how there always has to be something incomplete, threatening, or just on the cusp of misanthropic.

The last story before we move into Butler’s essay portion is a story called "Crossover." And you know what? This was my favorite of all the stories. It isn't sci-fi, but it hit home with me like none of the others.  “Crossover” is about a woman working a factory job. There’s no future here. No way out. Just a lump sum of absolutely nothing to look forward to. And not only is she crippled physically, but also mentally. She has a complex, formed by low self-esteem and other mental propaganda.  She even suffers from hallucinations. Her trips to the liquor store doesn't help her headaches.  But she keeps going.  This all clicked with me. I understood her story. However, I can see why some may see "Crossover" as their least favorite in this collection; I have to repeat that it’s my favorite.  I got how this unnamed woman, who works this horrible job, walks around with a headache, drinks liquor, and hallucinates about ghost, is not the woman Butler wanted to become in the early stages of her writing career. And latterly, how writing saved her. I got it. I understood it. I’ve lived some of it. And in my heart, I, too, am still living a life where I am afraid of becoming such a character. When I tell people that keeping a blog and having the ability to write and share my thoughts are saving me, they usually chuckle. Not a lot of people get it. But I was glad to see that one of my favorite writers did.

This is what Butler had to say in the afterword regarding "Crossover." I highlighted it and read it repeatedly:


“I didn't wind up hallucinating or turning to alcohol as the character in “Crossover” does, but I keep noticing the company oddities [coworkers] everywhere I worked, and they went right on scaring me back to the typewriter whenever I strayed.”


The last two stores in Bloodchild will continue into the next post where I also talk a little about the two stories in the Unexpected Stories collection.


PART 2 OF OCTAVIA BUTLER SHORTS

Monday, September 1, 2014

Pardon My Intermission (Monthly Rambles)

It’s September 1st, and I’m here now just to write. It’s in me to want to play with words and language, even when I’m not necessarily moved by anything to help push them out of me.  Well, to be super clear, August kind of exhausted me. Nevertheless, writing something–anything– is a habit. No, it’s more than a habit. It’s something I couldn't imagine living without doing.  Especially when you consider how fun it is as well as the escapism it provides.

So with the closing of August, I think I kind of want to put blogging to the side–but not really at all. Seriously, I couldn't imagine how when I love it so much. But the thing is, whenever I do a blog post, I draft it for about two days, and then I spend about two more days reading and re-reading it repeatedly. I know I'm not going to nail it–as nothing is 100 percent perfect–but I try to get my voice (and grammar) as clear as possible.  I overthink.  Over exhaust.  Over flood myself with what comes next.  Sometimes I undercut my confidence in a post, but throw that aside because I believe in showing up to your desires despite the voices in your head. 

And so that is why I think I'm in a writing and reading slump (though it hasn't even been over a week since I last posted). I've exhausted myself just a little, or at least I feel like I have. But then these ideas of putting aside blog posts to focus on possibly writing and illustrating that children’s book I've always wanted to do comes along. And with that comes this idea that maybe I can get back into fiction writing by seeing if I’m capable of writing short stories again.

I don’t know. I think I just want to do more in the creative general. I wake up an hour before I have to be in at work (which is 5am) and spend 30 minutes writing.  I'm always late, but I never care. I alternate between blog post drafts and stories. Lately the stories have been calling me. I want to continue the story I have about love. The one about ghosts. The mystery and the supernatural.  I want to write them as best as I can, then share them here with some simple pencil sketches to semi-illustrate the scene.  I want to create.  And in many, many ways I wish this j. o. b. would go away so I can just create.

And I want to figure out how in the world could I write a children's book with a constrain on my words.

So pardon my intermission here. I’m just thinking and sharing my thoughts as I allow the Universe to continue to push me further in my desired direction.

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