The Contradictory Celebration of Christmas

Something interesting occurred

Santa taken from
http://bestclipartblog.com/18-santa-claus-clip-art.html

to me while I was having a little bit of a panic attack: the "war on Christmas" is beyond foolish.

Now, before people misunderstand what I mean, I'm not saying that people don't have a right to their own religious views, and to even get upset when they are bombarded with religious material (I feel much the same from time to time); but here's the catch...

The current celebration isn't recognizable as religious at all.

"But wait, we give people gifts because the Magi gave Jesus gifts."  Or, "We give gifts because Jesus was the gift to the world."

Yes, yes.  I've heard these before.  But there's a weird sort of problem with the current practice of gift giving--we go and splurge on family and friends yet conveniently forget those in need.  We tend to follow a set list and getting what people want us to get, rather than getting gifts from the goodness of our heart and knowing what people need, not just what they want.

Jesus was the gift to world, a much needed gift of salvation and hope in a world of severe need.  So why buy gifts of want, rather than need?  Why splurge on those who have much, yet be so stingy for those in need?

On this same note, something odd happened this year.  Each year I like to fill up a Toys-for-Tots box and do an angel or two from an Angel Tree.  This was the first year I've been around when someone receiving Angel Tree gifts chews out the giver because the receiver already opened the presents before Christmas and discovered there was no receipt so that the gifts could be returned.  Odd.

Which lead me to my realization.  Since Christmas is supposed to be a Christian Holiday, it seems even the Christians have lost the spirit of the holiday thinking they're honoring God, but in fact have gotten caught up in the hype.  This is the holiday to celebrate the Prince of Peace -- so why is there so much panic in the malls?  What' with the rush for a good deal?  Will God not provide?

Just a quick random thought out there.  Quite an interesting path to follow I think while I spend this season searching for magic still and in a few short hours I will be lighting a candle over the dinner table and saying prayers.

Needless to say, this is a great place to start a discussion.

Magic? In the Air?

From my own backyard.

When the first hint smoke hits the air, my imagination seems to light up with silly dreams and, probably even sillier, hopes.

It's really hard for me to pin point what it is about this season, but somewhere inside of me a sort of need to seek out magic.

It's the scent of smoke in the air, the chill on the wind, the steam of breath, and the ice framing our windows when we look out.  Somewhere in all of this, a season of night and light, there is magic to be found.

Often enough, my sentiment is compared to the jolly ol' fat man, Santa Claus, and the fact that his sleigh is magical and his trips are magical and therefore I'm seeking that magic.  Yeah, that's not it, though I do believe in Santa Clause, not as a jolly ol' elf who brings gifts for us down our chimney.  I believe in the spirits he represents: Kindness, Generosity, Sacrifice.  Therefore, as long as these spirits still roam our realm, I do believe in Santa Claus-- me and Francis P. Church.

But that isn't the sense of magic I'm talking about.  I'm talking about a sense of wonder that captivates us.  The joy found in huffing out a breath of steam.  the fun that comes with dancing in the snow.  the sense of comfort from the fire, and the awe of ice crystals circling the moon.

Though, I know this magic doesn't fill everyone's life, but I'm beginning to think I understand why.  But this would be a good time to ponder ourselves, is it just the day that brings wonder?  Are presents all that matter on this holiday?  Or have we made it all up in our minds?

But then, if it is all made up in our minds, then the magic would be real since we can make our own magic of sorts.  We can be the change we want.

Warm Glow and Create

"The glow of one warm thought is worth more to me than money" - Thomas Jefferson

How very strange that a writer would post a quote like this.  It's as if we were constantly trying to promote independent thought among our readers and the world.

Well, in truth, I am.  A world where everyone thinks first, questions why, challenges the information handed down to us through various outlets and acquaintances.

shamelessly "borrowed" from:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Hobbes

However, that's not the point of this post.  I mean, a world where everyone is thoughtful, as in full of thought, and operates on higher ideals than the what-can-I-get-for-myself-right-now mentality would be an amazing place and the need for money could very well vanish.  But what I'm trying to shake my stick at is the idea that a thought is an amazing and beautiful thing.  So many great and wonderful inventions have been made because someone though, "Why can't we do it this way?" or "What if we tried this, this away?"

Recently I've been reading a book on Thomas Hobbes and the "Social Contract" theory of morality.  This is the idea that humans are innately at war with one another and this natural state of chaos must be overruled with good sensibilities and therefore people make social contracts to keep the chaos at bay, such as we agree not to murder one another and then loot the place.  And if someone does violate these contracts, then a "sovereign" would respond with a furious wrath that would deter such action from others.

I know, what does Hobbes have to do at all with my earlier statement?  Well, that's the very point.  I would like to add to the old maxim, "Stop and smell the roses" and add "Stop and smell the roses and take a breath to reflect."  Because when we are reflective, we can change current courses of our lives and we can occasionally predict possible outcomes and we keep the darkness of our innate senses at bay because we're thinking before using our impulses.  We can redirect the story of our lives.

So take a moment, and think about today.  Let the glow and gleam of a thought spark and grow into a flame.  Be creative.

Working Forward Sometimes Might Be Backward

Me on a recent trip

We are often told that we should look forward into all things.  That we need to dream and dream big.  We should reach for the stars.

Recently this little thought had come to mind while I was out working in a field in a heat index of 130 in a small third-world country.  If we could grab a star, we'd blot out the sky (of course assuming that we could manage to hold a star in our hands).  If we dream big, we loose all the little steps that make up all the little details therein.  If we always look forward, we may forget who we have been.

I know, it sounds like I'm being a little jaded, but there's a reason.  Consider many of the child stars that have come to the spot light within the past few years.  They once were praised as being wholesome and winsome and everyone in American wanted to be them.  Then, they became controversial and they became enamored in their own legend.  Soon, it was whatever it took to reach that next rung on the ladder and stay on top--but what did it cost and what was lost?

The progression was a rocket fast launch and none of the hard work to get there was in place to keep them stabilized in the blinding lights of stardom.

I won't lie, I have dreams of becoming a writer, a well known writer.  I have often dreamed and believed that I will soon be discovered and then my career will take off and life will be as I have dreamed...

This is where I need a clown to shoot from the closet with a seltzer bottle and spray me in the face.

Recently, to help my writing I have hired a writing coach who I will promote with out asking.  His name is Steve Adams and he has helped me a lot, though I haven't submitted much to him.  However, from the discussion and notes, I have noticed something.  I need to drop the ideals of being a literary virtuoso and get back to basics.  I need to grip those tethers of "who I am," "who I have been," and "what I want to be" tight and utilize those as my tools for progression and loose the idea of capturing a star.

Let the stars fall into my hands and let the dreams grab me.

Fourth Wall and Catalysts

While I'm still struggling to get a living novel up and moving on Tumblr (ammutterings.tumblr.com), I have been attempting to ask a lot of questions and teach a little bit of literary theory.  Most recently, I've been talking about the Fourth Wall and Catalysts.  But, since I have only one follower on Tumblr, and perhaps a few here, why not  toss some of my questions out here to those who take a gander from time to time.

Catalysts are things in the plot that kick the conflict into high gear.  So out of the great myriad of catalysts that I can choose from, I need to select one that would reveal a character's nature as something greater than all others, or someone possibly threatening.

What would be a few great ideas for a catalyst to pique a female character's abilities?

The Fourth Wall is the idea that between the reader and the characters there's an invisible veil.  I was thinking that bringing the audience in to help decide the novel's path would be a good way to break that fourth wall.  However, upon thinking about it, that's not the case.  There's still a barrier up.

So...how could I break that fourth wall truly?

shamelessly grabbed from: http://iaanhughes.com/2010/06/03/breaking-glass/

A curious thought...

So I'm sitting at work today and I click over to turn on my Pandora music station.  And while I'm listening to one of my stations (originally began by simply looking for Imagine Dragons), I begin to notice something.  It's not really all that unusual but as the songs roll on from "Demons" to "Holland Road" from Mumford and Sons, then to "Paradise" by Coldplay, and then on to "Show Me What I'm Looking For" by Carolina Liar, my mind was slowly awakened to something.

It seems that the searching is still with us.  I don't usually like to get all religious and spiritual here, but perhaps it's time to call a butterfly a butterfly.

I grew up in the '80s and '90s with all the promises of casual sex without emotional attachment (now all but totally debunked) and rebellion to set us free.  But, now these bands that the youth are clinging to (and I enjoy listening to, too) seem to be searching for something higher that that which has been promised by the world.

Wow, shocker.  You mean this fractured version of paradise is actually not enough for the human soul?  Who would have thought?

Could this be a rising cultural back lash?

If I take five minutes to do a quick search on the backgrounds of these groups, it seems I'm not far off.  Mumford and Sons, Carolina Liar, Coldplay, and Imagine Dragons all have deep religious ties to Christianity in some way, even though they may be shying away from the label of "Christian Band" (something I can't blame them for as the term "Christian" alone carries a lot of negative imagery to non-Christians).  However, one of my favorite quotes of all time comes from C.S. Lewis about how the world doesn't need more "Good Christian books, but good Christians writing books."  In other words, who we are bleeds our message out into the world, and the world will absorb our message.

Just an interesting thought.  Could we be in seeing the start of the pendulum swing?

Fixing...What's Love Got To Do...With Writing?

taken from: http://www.wallpapersfreedesktop.com/
love-sound-love-wallpaper.html

Well, okay so to begin this post, let me make this very simple.  Yesterday, I used this blog to "vent my spleen" as we would say in the Renaissance.

Without saying, this is inappropriate.  This blog is supposed to be about writing and supposed to be about exploring my imagination and the concepts there in, not about climbing up on a soapbox and offending people.

I don't really know if I did, but if I did, then I would like to offer you all my most sincere apologies.

When it comes to deeply set issues of who we are we should all come together in discussion rather than using a public platform for arguing.  We should operate in discussion.

However, there are some salvageable gems from yesterday's little rant.

First, let me be frank, I have very high ideals about what love is.  Even though these maybe high standards, they are not unobtainable.  I've seen them with my own two eyes.  Love is a long journey.  A road over mountains, through valleys, and over raging rivers.  We need to be strong to make it through.  We need someone to carry us when we're weak, or drag us when we can't walk, or someone to lie with when we both are hurting.  But then someone also to soar with, to touch the stars and taste the Milky Way in our heights of joy.  In short, we need to grow together and become compatible.

Secondly, I think as writers, just as with all mass media engineers, we need to be honest with what love is and not just glorify the bedroom activities.  We shouldn't deceive the audience in thinking it all is beautiful and amazing.  I believe if we're going to display sexuality, then we need to not be blind to the dark side and we need to find ways to care for those hurt by our messages.  Social responsibility.

Third, I believe it's important for us to help create and become role models the generations to be.  We often argue that, well my book / CD / movie wasn't meant for that young of an audience.  The point becomes moot when the PR team begins to market it toward the audience with the most disposable income.  That point vanishes once that generation already has it in their hands.  And that point becomes especially moot when the emulation becomes apparent.

What's love got to do with it?

Taken from: http://www.smscs.com/photo/romantic_wallpapers_
of_kiss.html#.UXwlAaI3tsM, however there is a deviantart.com
profile: caramellina.

Recently I have been having a discussion with a few friends about love and romance and sex, and though these discussions are rather interesting, I'm slowly beginning to see a huge rift in what we used to believe Love is and what Love is becoming.  This scares me to a point that it actually causes me to stay awake at night with my pen in my hand writing out and thinking.

These aspects that we have been discussing have me pondering a lot about my role of a writer.

Should I just play to the current trend?  It'll sell books.  It'll sell stories.

Or should I hold to the truths that I have learned either the hard way or through careful study, dreaming, idealism, and faith in a higher standard of life?  This will make me enemies, but then I won't be a tool like just about every pop star out there concerned with the green.

That is sort of a point, once our concerns float toward money, we sell out that which we all long to understand: the greater purpose.  "Doesn't matter, I gots my millions," some will say.  But, if I have taken the world, and I have burned it to ashes....what's it's value?

Cautionary note -- this isn't meant as a dig on anyone, I'm merely taking a moment to explain my personal thoughts.  I apologize if anyone feels offended, that is not my intention.

The first of these issues I've waded into is the concept of "sexual compatibility".  This is a funny sort of topic, by it's own name it suggests that humans aren't sexually compatible by nature, that we must find that specific puzzle piece.  So in other words we may find that perfect someone, but...geeze in bed...it's iffy.  From what I've learned, sex is something that is learned and taught and brought to its greatest heights with someone you're free to be as you are.  It's something you teach and something you learn.  Of course it can be clumsy and awkward at first, but imagine if the person you're with really cares for you, really loves you, and really has the greatest of hopes for you.  Over time, as the pair grow together and the pair grow closer, then compatibility won't be an issue, it'll be achieved and multiplied and powerful.  That's why this is a non-issue.  We may not be great in the sack right from the box, but with love and devotion, we can be ecstasy.

So what about sex without emotional attachment?  Yeah, another topic I've walked into.  This--well basically this is a lie to ourselves.  "Yeah I had sex with my best friend, but it didn't mean anything.  Just had to YOLO."  Okay, so, here are some questions to ask.  1) Do you remember what happened, such as little images in your head?  2) Have you discovered things you enjoyed with one person?  3) Do you have ideas of what someone else may enjoy?  Each of these three would be considered an emotional attachment.

1 - 2 - 3. Any of those three are now set against the person you may meet next and choose to share your sheets with.  You have now set up a standard to measure someone who may end up becoming the greatest love of your life, by.  Doesn't that seem a little unfair?  Which this also goes right back up to sexual compatibility.  Now you're making the standard for compatibility that much more difficult.

So, I'll take those two pot-shots and see what fallout I may receive next.

Now, I bet the question has been raised: so what does this all have to do with writing?

That's easy.  Mass media culture is telling people -- this is what love is.  This is what sex is.

However, the sexuality and the moments that are expressed in songs and television and books are only a small, micro moment of love.  They hare hardly the full compassing aspects.  We, as creators of media, need to be telling the whole story.  We need to be responsible for our creation.  If a singer writes a song about getting drunk, getting laid, and how great it is, they need to be standing in a rape crisis center and comforting girls who got raped while drunk because part of the outcome of their message will be a dark side.  These media pop stars need to be supporting programs that will help protect children who are obtaining their messages and educating them on reality.

The concept of a living novel...

Okay so here's a thought...

When we think of literature we think of literature as that for which we read and enjoy.  John Milton spoke about this in his poem "Il Penseroso" the man alone in his tower with the great store of books reading into the dark twilight hours with our imaginations on the loose.

Well, that's all fine and dandy, but this is a new age.  This is the 21st Century...isn't it?  Let me just make sure--Yes, this is the 21st Century folks.  So what does that mean?

Well, for one, that time marches forward.  Time marches on.  Time leads us to new ideas.  Our TV shows have become interactive.  Our music...well not so much but sort of.

So...this may not be a new idea to some, but I believe I will try it.  I think it's possible to make an E-novel come alive in the hands of the readers.  A living novel that is as much a part of the discussion as the readers are.  Author and audience working in tandem...why not?

heading home after a long day.

Well, I believe I'll take up the challenge and see what happens.

Wish me luck as I head out on this highway to see what new adventures may come my way.

Follow the story at: ammutterings.tumblr.com

The End for a Critter

Gemini watching me from her box.

A well known fact about me, I love animals.  I love to watch them, I love to play with them.  I love just about everything there is about animals.  I've helped rescue some.  I've cared for sick and ailing animals.  I've even had to learn the very delicate art of rolling at cat in a towel just so that I could get food down her stomach.

So, that is why today is a bit of a hard day for me, and as a writer a day to study and examine my thoughts and feelings.

This morning one of our neighborhood cats was mauled to death by someone's bet boxer.  The cat was a lovely brindle (grey and white striped) cat.  She would have turned sixteen this year, except for this morning's violence leaving fur and gore scattered about my neighbor's front yard.  Q-Bear was a friendly cat, happy to greet me, happy to purr, loved a good belly rub, but she ached and was slow moving, so she became easy pickings for the dog this morning.

Now, first off, I know animals eat animals in the wild, but this wasn't about eating another animal.  This was just cruelty.  Secondly, I have dogs and cats and they live in harmony because they weren't raised where they starved or violence was a method of life.  Though I shouldn't really presume much about the boxer's home life, but somethings can be discerned from the actions of the dog.

But I'm feeling a lot of anger right now.  I'm mad that my neighbor would have a fifteen year old cat still living on the street rather than bring her inside for the twilight years.  I'm mad at my other neighbor who saw the whole ordeal go down and didn't try to run off the dog.  I'm angry because a member of my house should have been alerted to the situation, that I was not able to attend to, because sitting in a day dream state and ignoring someone shouting and screaming outside was a preferable state.

I'm also sad. Bear was a very gentle cat and a very sweet creature to be sure.  So, I have to admit to a little sadness.  I'm going to miss her throaty call and getting to pet Bear in the evenings.  More than that, I can only imagine Bear's last moments in total fear.  Being chased by a snarling beast, teething digging into her flesh as she is jostled and jerked all about wildly, trying to fight back as best as she could, but knowing it wasn't enough.  Pity crawls deep within me as well.

To close out today, I'll leave with a thought.  Last October one of the neighborhood cats had kittens, and one evening when I came home, I found that one of the kittens had been hit by a car.    Less than a week later, I found another one laying in the street in a pool of gore.  My heart always breaks in these situations and I developed a little prayer.

"I did not know you, but for your life I honor you.
I did not see care for you in this life, but for your struggle, we were kindred.
As my brother I will do my best to commend your body to the Earth and your soul to Heaven.
As my brother I loved you so seek friends upon your arrival and we shall meet once more."

A change for Q-Bear:

"As my friend, I loved you, so seek your sister Bama in the lush fields beyond and she'll take good care of you until we meet again."

Shaking The Dust Off

borrowed from www.guardian.co.uk

It has been a very long time since I've sat here and blogged about writing.  This is largely in part to some very simple, and very silly, reasons.

First, I would like to blame work and how my life has gotten to be so very, very busy, but in fact that's not a reason at all.  It's more that I let my work find time to detract me from getting here to maintain a living journal.

Second, I will proclaim that intimidation is a factor.  I've never enjoyed receiving rejection letters.  I know that not everyone is an acceptable story or idea, but still, it's very hard not to take a rejection personal--at the moment.  I've been told by friends that you grow numb after a while, but still, it hurts for the time being and it tends to shut me down for a week or two.

However, this past week I sent out a query letter or three.  This time, instead of trying to sell myself I decided to be honest.  I decided to approach literary agents with my hand out and trying to showcase who I am as a writer rather than a product I have created.  I decided to put my skills on display rather than a product that I have no clue if it is good enough on its own merits, but--maybe my merits will be enough.

So, here I am shaking off the dust to my blog.  I need to reconnect and redirect my efforts.  I need to put a focus once more on my art.

In short, I need to be me again.