Up to something

Well, it’s been a crazy month and a half.  Had my boys over for a while, which is always cool, but it definitely slows the work down.  I’m now juggling four different writing projects at the same time, which is a new record for me.  I’ve got the next Infinity: Empire novel, the semi-sequel to “Tales,” around halfway done.  Same with the next Infinity: Prime novel.  Besides those, I’ve also got an Infinity: Prime prequel with Jaz and Nyx I’m working on.

Thing is, my muse can be a royal pain in the ass.  I had a inspiration strike me out of the blue and I’m working on a YA project that has no direct connection to my Infinity stuff at all.  Chances are that it’ll fit somewhere in the universe eventually, but I think if it does it’ll be on an aspect Earth that knows nothing about the others, and one that the others also remain unaware of.

This book is about a ghost-talker, a medium who can see and speak to the dead.  In this world, the ghosts are far more influential than in most others, since they’re one of the only types of supernatural who are generally incorruptible.  They’re mostly done with the mortal realm, so they can’t be bribed, blackmailed, or extorted.  They act as arbitrators between the different supernatural races, and rely on the ghost-talkers to relay their messages to the mortal realm as well.

Of course most of the mortal realm remains unaware of them, as it remains unaware of other supernatural beings like shapeshifters, vampires, and the creatures of fairie.

In most paranormal stories I’ve read ghosts are low on the totem pole…having very little power to speak of.  Not this time around.  They’re not powerful in terms of how much energy they have to throw around, or being able to affect the physical world (most of them can’t affect the material plane at all), but they have an immense amount of influence over other supernatural beings because of ancient treaties that gave them authority to arbitrate conflicts and investigate situations that affect supernatural beings and their relationships with one another.

The heroine is a young ghost-talker who really has no idea of her place in the world.  She’s caught between the desire to be a normal teenager and the need to perform the tasks demanded of a ghost-talker.  Her best friend, a shapeshifter, is often her one and only confidante.

I’ve written another YA novel, but it’s directly linked with the Infinity stuff and I think I should wait before trying to do something with it.  This one takes me in a totally new direction and, for the first time, I think that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I might post some more info about it somewhere down the line, as I get closer to finishing it.  But for the time being I’m afraid people will just have to be satisfied with this little blurb.

“Silence Kincaid talks to the dead.  It’s not the easiest thing for a teenage girl to bear, but no one asked her if she wanted to be a freak in the first place.  They come to her and sometimes, just sometimes, she’s able to help them.  When a vampire comes to her and asks her to help him prove that he’s not a killer, she worries that maybe she’s getting in over her head.  But what she doesn’t know is that ghost-talkers are born to swim in deep waters.”

 

I really like where this one is going.  So stay tuned and I’ll keep you all up to date.

Speaking of television

In my last post I mentioned that I was watching MI-5.  I’m on the fifth or sixth episode of the first season now and I have to say that Hollywood could only WISH it could do the spy genre this well.  Taut, seamless, and immensely satisfying, MI-5 is an example of what dramatic action TV should be.  I’m not sure if the blame for our shortcomings in this area can be laid at the feet of the network executives or the viewing audience, or both at once.

Why do I say this?  Well, mostly because this sort of show, done here the great ol’ USA, would be rife with bullshit political propaganda (24, anyone?) or unnecessary gratituitous chop-sukey nonsense.  Now I like a good martial art beat-down as much as the next guy, but as MI-5 so effectively shows, if every mission goes to that level, someone (if not everyone) isn’t very good at his or her job.

All in all my hat’s off to the Brits of late.  The newest incarnation of the immortal Doctor Who, while fairly tame in some respects compared to similar American fare, shows a kind of heart and cheeky humor that mainstream American audiences have shown no passion for or interest in.  Something as creative and fun as this Doctor Who would have fallen flat on its face on this side of the pond.  Witness what Faux Television did to Firefly.  For a network related to the terminally conservative Fox News Channel, they’re WAY too fond of inane childish humor and sex jokes for something as intelligent as Firefly to capture their imaginations.  Oh, wait.  Come to think of it, that isn’t all that surprising coming from the people who bring you Fox News.  Similar mentality, different script.  The one shining star of the Fox Network has been The Simpsons, and that’s only because it’s been such a wonderkind that its writers could get away with carving their own path.

I like TV, for the most part.  As much as I hear people say “television today sucks,” I look back and wonder what the hell they’re comparing it to.  It’s always been hit and miss, more miss than hit.  But there are some winners, especially once one gets past the “reality” abyss that makes it such a swamp these days.  Reality, shmeality.  The only reality shows I could tolerate were the two Rockstar offerings, primarily because I enjoy good covers.  And I know talent when I hear it.  That’s why Jordis Unga from the first season and Dilana from the second are among my myspace friends.

My favorite shows at the moment?  I watch all the CSIs (yes, I know the time-scale is off, and that CSIs don’t really work the field and solve crimes.  They primarily aid the prosecution in presenting a case to a jury).  I like NCIS because it’s just fun.  Criminal Minds captures my interest because I’ve long been fascinated with abnormal psychology and criminal profiling.  I also like Heroes, Supernatural, and Ghost Whisperer, though I’ll admit that the emotional content that made Ghost Whisperer something special in the beginning has been somewhat lacking the last couple of seasons.  Oh, and I like Bones.

I try very hard not to prejudge things, no matter what they are.  This doesn’t make me infinitely open-minded, but it does seem to make me a bit more…open to varieties of expression–dramatically, musically, and personally.

Oh, don’t get me wrong.  I have my weak points.  I’m no fan of political reactionaries, or would-be authoritarians of ANY political pursuasion.  The villains of the moment may be the so-called “conservatives,” but I harbor no illusions about roughly fifty percent of my fellow “progressives.”  Playing puppeteer is a dirty business no matter what ideology one uses to justify it.

And as I have remarked before, I’m no fan of religion.  This has nothing to do with my thoughts on the existence of God, or any sort of afterlife.  I’m a kind of pantheist, which means I see everything that is as “God,” and consider our part in the scheme of things as fraught with responsibilities because, near as I can tell, we’re the only sentient parts of God currently mucking about in this particular corner of the universe.

I hold no religious text as “sacred,” and accept no particular philosophy ascendent over any other.  I’m sorry if this offends any “True Believers,” but I have yet to hear a convincing argument why one particular view of the universe should be taken any more seriously than any other.  I once knew a woman who thought we Earthlings were some sort of alien science experiment and, upon reflection, decided that it was as valid a theory about the origin of our species as any other.  Certainly as valid as the notion of a creator deity making a man out of mud and creating woman from the man’s rib.

The failing of nearly all religions, from my point of view, is a complete lack of perspective.  Humanity doesn’t need to get right with God.  Humanity needs to learn to get right with itself, with all its various pieces and parts.  Until we do, we’re no better than a bunch of monkeys flinging poo at one another.

I have faith in us, believe it or not.  Once we get past this insane need to follow loud-mouth, self-righteous assholes around as if they carry pork chops in their back pockets, we might just have a chance to get out there into the Big Black and not pillage our way through the galaxy.

When it comes to choosing leadership, we’ve got a terrible blind spot.  It’s remarkably difficult for entirely too many of to tell the difference between righteousness and self-righteousness.  Maybe we need to learn to listen to the leader within ourselves before we tag along with the pied pipers who want us to dance to whatever tune they happen to be playing at the moment.

And, no, I suppose this doesn’t have anything to do with television…other than the fact that WAY too many of us confuse fiction with reality and TV is a major culprit in this regard.

So the message for the day is “Go out and be a good little godling, try to make this big blue marble a slightly better place than it was yesterday.”

You might even learn something vital in the process.

What I’d never have watched if not for my kids

My two boys are visiting for part of the summer.  One’s a teenager and the other will be there within a couple of years.  Last year they introduced me to the cartoon, Avatar, which is so far the best and brightest of all the cartoons I’ve been exposed to so far.  This year I find I actually get a chuckle or two from Phineas and Ferb (I think that’s how it’s spelled), though I imagine the running joke (a couple of kids who regularly invent impossible devices and how one’s sister is always catching them at it but can’t prove it to the parent) will get old fairly fast.  Something like that doesn’t tend to have staying power.  The pet Platypus who’s actually a spy is worthy of a head-scratch or two, and a moment of mild amusement as well.

Other than that, the cartoon fare tends to be pretty slim from what I can tell.

To my surprise, I find I actually like the Hannah Montana show, which was something I would never have anticipated.  Working in retail, I certainly knew who she was long before I ever saw or heard anything more than the parade of action figures, fake microphones, and cheap, cheezy, Chinese-made “musical instruments” that bear her name.

Okay, it’s pretty hammy–reminiscent of a lot of eighties sitcoms in many ways.  And the premise?  A “secret” pop star?  Uh…no.  But I do find myself laughing more than one might expect.  Miley Cyrus, though a bit over-blown, has a range of expressions and vocal contortions that tickle my funny bone.  And her father has a talent for comedic timing I wouldn’t have guessed.  I also like the fact that it doesn’t seem to lean on the obligatory stupid or vapid character that has always seemed a staple of nearly every sitcom ever devised.  Just about every character can be stupid about something or another on occasion, including the star, and that’s worthy of note.

Not to mention she has a pretty good voice and undeniable stage presence.  Curiosity sent me onto the web looking for more information about the whole thing and the fact that she has two platinum albums at the age of 15, and is estimated to possibly be worth around a billion dollars by the time she’s eighteen, is certainly nothing to dismiss lightly.

She obviously works hard, has a good head on her shoulders, and seems (to me) unlikely to do the self-destruction thing we’ve witnessed other teen queens manage so handily.  I’m no big fan of religion, but when it’s deep, abiding, and quiet, like that of Billy Ray and his wife, I can respect it a heck of a lot more than those who feel the need to shout it from the rooftops.  Maybe it’s an inborn cynicism, but I always find myself wondering ‘what are those people trying to hide?’

In an interview in Vanity Fair (which also apparently included a so-called “risque” photo that had some of the aforementioned LOUD religious folks causing a ruckus), she made mention of personal contact with both Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan and described them both as being good people with a good heart who were going through some troubles.  If you ask me, that says a lot about the girl right there.

People who “hate” disturb me.  People willing to pass judgment on folks who aren’t reigning death and destruction on innocent people, who are dealing with their own problems in their own way–no matter how I myself might view said problems–are vexations to the spirit.

I’m also not the kind of person who resents the success of someone considerably younger than myself, even if it’s an unprecedented level of success.  I love to see people chasing their dreams and catching them.  If they use it to do some good for other people, all the better.

Which brings me to another Disney Channel staple–the Jonas Brothers.  Honestly, not my cup of tea, though my youngest son seems to be a big fan.  As I see it, the quality of teen idols has gone up considerably since my teenage years, since the Jonas Brothers write and perform their own music.  I can respect that, even if the style makes me cringe slightly.

Another show I’ve been introduced to is The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.  Seriously, those two kids need to tone it down a little…they act like they’re on stage, not on camera.  Unlike Hannah Montana, it’s a fairly typical eighties-style sitcom, complete with a (filthy rich) village idiot.  I do, however, have to wonder what it says about me that I’m left thinking, “hey, the mom’s kinda cute.”

 

About the best thing I can say about “Wizards of Waverly Place,” other than a more or less similar observation about the mom on THAT show, is that a Deluise is involved and that brings back fond memories of MY childhood and more than one Burt Reynolds and Dom Deluise project.

My youngest looked at me yesterday and asked, “what’s a cassette tape?”  I burst out laughing and looked at my wife and said, “I KNEW that question was coming eventually, but not SO soon.”  One of my instructors in college had commented on that very subject sometime in the early nineties.  So, yeah, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

It made me feel old.  Like the kids stumbling on the Goofy Movie today and remembering Super Goof comic books.  Like knowing this weekend I’ll be taking them to see the new Batman movie and watching the late Heath Ledger reconstruct the character I’d always thought Jack Nicholson played to perfection.  “A little song, a little dance, Batman’s head on a lance.  Tell me something, do you know anything about…” cue flapping sounds and Jack doing little flapping motions with his hands.

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t resent the re-imagining of the story.  But this is Jack we’re talking about.  One of the greats.  It’s almost like looking forward in time and seeing someone else playing the part of Captain Jack Sparrow in a remake of Pirates.  It’d be like “huh?”

Not to dis on Heath, though.  At least he went out with what is recognized as a true swan song.  And at least he has a fairly impressive body of work behind him–though there are those who might dispute that to some extent.  They might not have been brilliant, but I liked a lot of his movies.  That’s more than can be said about Brandon Lee.  He’d just begun.  And, in my opinion, might well have had the chance to out-do his father.

We’ll never know.

It’s getting late and I’m starting to ramble.  I think I’ll finish watching the MI-5 episode I was tracking and head for bed.

When I started this blog I warned people that I’d probably be covering a lot of different territory.  I wasn’t kidding.

Love amongst the Monsters

My newest project is a love story between two of the deadliest characters in my universe.  Jasmine Tashae, the Lady of Blades, has been a loner for over two and a half centuries.  The closest person to her isn’t really a person at all, it’s a magical construct that has in time become like a real person.  But Quickfingers may be a loyal friend, but he’s not bound to her of his own volition.

Enter Nikki Sanchez, the only child of a computer genius who, on his own world, discovered the key to artificial intelligence and was killed as a result.  Nikki means to unlock the mystery behind her father’s death, and to bring his killers to justice, but has no idea how she might do it.

When Jaz stumbles into Nikki, she thinks it’s only because she reminds her of herself that she decides to take her with her and transform her into the kind of warrior she believes she can become.  She is used to following her impulses, and so brings Nikki into a universe so vast that no one from her world could have ever envisioned it.

This new being, this altered woman child who no longer resembles Nikki, is renamed by Jaz herself.  She calls her Nyx, and names Nyx her official protege, the person who is mean to take her place should anything happen to her.  And despite her status as an immortal, and one of the most powerful mages who’s ever lived, she’s got a real reason to be concerned.  She has met her enemy, and her enemy is herself.  Or, at least, a version of herself.  Her doppelganger.  A Jasmine Tashae from an aspect Earth where her killer instinct has been turned to a dark path, where the defender of the innocent has become instead a deadly predator among the very people the real Jaz has sworn to protect.

Nyx recognizes her feelings for Jaz early on, though she takes the advice of a very wise man to take it slowly.  The last thing she wants to do is spook her mentor by announcing her feelings too soon.  But when, precisely, would be too soon?  Will her decision to keep her feelings under wraps actually jeopardize both of them and any hope of a future together?

This is a story I’ve wanted to tell for a long, long time.  Those who’ve read either Tales from the Magitech Lounge or Death of Heroes have been introduced to the partnership of Nyx and Jaz.  This book will tell the tale of how Nyx Deathweb and the Lady of Blades met, fell in love, and took on the very fates themselves to pull happiness from the jaws of despair.

It won’t be your average fantasy novel.  It won’t be your average love story.  But these are not your average literary characters.  They deserve a story as unique as they are themselves to introduce them to one another and the universe at large.

If you’ve never made their acquaintance, be warned.  They’re the kind of heroes that leave the bad guys standing in a puddle of their own making, watching death approaching on strange wings and knowing that the best they can hope for is a quick and painless end.  Not that they’re particularly likely to get either, considering one of Jaz’s hobbies is ‘trolling for rapists,’ and Nyx lives to plant her boot in the face of those who abuse authority.

These two women kick ass, but they don’t bother to take names.  Those who fall victim to Jaz’s Gravedigger spell don’t rate a tombstone on which to carve a name.  Besides, even if someone wanted to erect one, they wouldn’t know where to put it.  Those who attract the interest of the Lady of Blades are rarely those who would rate a fan club in the first place.

But don’t take my word for it.  Wait and see for yourself.  You won’t regret it.  Unless, of course, you’re the kind of person that might attract their ire.  If so, stay away from mirrors and other reflective objects.  They’re a kind of doorway, you know.  And the world on the other side belongs to the Lady of Blades.