Friday, November 26, 2010

Revisiting Barbarianism (aka Black Friday)

So today was Black Friday, the after-Thanksgiving shopping extravanganza that has people lining up for hours outside of stores waiting for the gates to open so they can trample each other for cheap electronics. I've never shopped on a Black Friday, but I worked two at a retail job and, aye, are people complete wackos when it comes to this day. Shoppers frothing at the mouth, beating each other up for that last "toy of the year," screaming and cursing and making everyone else miserable.

It's not a myth, it's the fall of humanity in one day-length period. If the apocalypse were to happen now, looters would be more decent despite fighting against zombies and roving gangs in order to get food. Last year, an elderly Wal-Mart greeter was trampled to death when the doors opened and the shoppers came barreling through like a herd of bison. Cashiers were sobbing as they checked people out, people who didn't care that they just killed a man over some vague deals.

I think Black Friday is a good example of why our society is so miserable as a whole now. In exchange for greed, you get complete barbarianism. Vikings look like well-tempered educated gentlemen compared to some shoppers.



"A good Freya's Day to thee, kind sir. I wisheth that only the best pillaging will come thy way."

People have been killed, killed, over this stupid phenomenon. People have been beaten up, cursed at, spit at, shoved, trampled, screamed at, and bitten over this thing. Does this not seem just completely weird to everyone?

I know some people that go Black Friday shopping because they say that the deals are too good to pass up. There's some arguments against this:
1. What you think are deals are not really deals. Many retailers will bump up the price right before Black Friday so they can claim things are on sale.
2. The sales are vague. Many places will have only a few things that they put on sale, while the rest is full-price. People still buy these full-priced items though, because, hey, they're right there.
3. You can get the same deals, and some even better, from online stores. You can do this in the comfort of your home, completely naked and smeared with mustard if you wanted to.
4. Many retailers also continue having good sales for Christmas far after Black Friday.

I think this event is also incredibly depressing, because of what it stands for. Christmas is no longer about spending time with friends and family, enjoying a good movie with hot chocolate and gingerbread. It's no longer the joy of giving. It's now about who can buy the best and the most things. Material things. That's all it's about anymore.

So instead of kicking an old lady in the face for the last Dell, try something new. Make a Christmas box with treats for a child in poverty. Send handmade cards to your friends, family, and neighbors. Something that goes beyond the pure greed of modern society.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Orc: Jobsearching.

I'm in a writing mood and my novel's hurting my head right now, so how about a continuation of Argh's life in middle-class America?

Argh began look for job today. Job market tough. Economic downturn hard. It very hard for orc... no one want pillage anymore. Says am bad. Argh sad. But me am look for job.

Me am go to lots of interviews. Everyone run from Argh. That make Argh happy! Humans am fear orckind, for us am terrifying and mighty. But that mean no job for Argh. Me am become sad. Finally, Argh give up and apply for job at McDonald's.

Interview man barely look at Argh. He have weak human mustache that am covered with white powder. He nod head and tell Argh that me can start immediately. Me am happy that Argh have job, but me am feel soul shatter as Argh put on hat and greasy shirt. Shirt too puny, and Argh rip through sleeves and back with mighty orc muscles. Interview man no care, and tell Argh to get to work as he pour whole bottle of pills in mouth.

Girl name Jennifer train Argh on register. Jennifer am have acne and metal in disgusting human teeth. Argh try not to smash Jennifer. She am tell Argh to try register alone. Argh take human order: puny cheeseburger and tiny fry with measly chocolate shake. Argh am try hit buttons, but me am too powerful and smash through weak register. Customer yell at Argh, tell Argh he am in hurry. Argh no like be yelled at by human. Human should bow to Argh! Customer say he want speak to manager.

Argh angry. ARGH AM BERSERKER-RAGING! Argh am grab customer by collar and pull over counter. Me am begin to stuff cheeseburgers in weak human mouth! He try scream, but he no can with eleventy puny burgers in throat. Argh stick human head under fountain and wash cheeseburgers down with gallon of Mountain Dew.

Jennifer yell at Argh to stop. Argh smash puny Jennifer through drive-thru window! Argh throw customer out after her! ARGH DESTROY WEAK MCDONALD'S! Humans scream and try run, but they am too fat. Me am pick up entire grill and throw at table of soft fat humans! ARGH AM POWERFUL!

As Argh leave work, me am enjoy fire that engulf building. Humans am screaming. It am most beautiful thing Argh ever see. Me am has tear in eye. Argh walk away and me am smile.

Argh look for other job.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Inspirational post from a cynic.

Yesterday my friend asked me a good question. It was: "Do you really, truly think that anyone, as far as the Western world is concerned, can do anything they really want to?" I said yes, and he told me that was good, because according to everyone he knows, by the time you reach your mid-20s you've given up on those dreams of becoming a rock star that juggles chain saw guitars or an astropaleantologist. Your life is now an endless, unescapable monotony, so why start something good now?

If you think about it, if you live in a first-world country, you really can do anything you want, as long as you try hard enough. Want to become an artist, but suck at art? Study art, take art classes, and practice, practice, practice. Want to be an astrophysicist, but aren't good at math? There are plenty of books and free resources that help sharpen your abilities. Want to be a mime? Wait, why the fuck do you want to be a mime? Do you want the shit beaten out of you on a daily basis?



I'm really down on myself a lot. I believe that my art sucks, my writing sucks, and everything that I do sucks. Then again, talent in most people besides freakish brain children isn't something that they're just born with. Talent is preserverance. Talent is practice, patience, a little bit of natural inclination, and a dash of fairy dust.

Most of the time I'll look at my art or writing and feel like it's the worst thing ever. Like, worse than Hitler 2. But you know, there are people out there that are worse, and successful. You know why? Because they kept trying and didn't give in to self-doubt.


There's no need to give up on your dreams. Would J.K. Rowling still be richer than God if she said, "Well, I'm a single mother on welfare. This is fine I guess." Would the Wright brothers have invented one of the single most important machines of human history if they listened to the critics laughing at their idea of flying through the air? Would man have discovered fire if they didn't keep banging those sticks and rocks together? Probably not.

Then again, you should still listen to those critics. Some are out to bring you down, while some serve as a good reference point against your flaws. These people will help you master your art and help you improve, so those others that are bringing you down will STFU.

The world is a cold, unsympathetic place. Why let it win? Punch it in the goddamn face. Kick it hard in the throat and scream, "SHUT UP, I just did what I wanted, bitch!" while in huddles in a fetal position and cries. As you leave it to its pain, grasping its choking throat, slide your sunglasses over your eyes and turn dramatically in the sunset, flicking your still-lit cigarette into its eye.


Just do what you want to do. You're going to die someday and the sun is going to explode, and the universe will finally collapse upon itself and wipe out every remnant of everything you ever knew and ever existed. Might as well have fun with it, and do what you want. Besides, you know, become Hitler 2 or something.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Digital art, part 2.

Yesterday I began coloring and adjusting lines on the face. It's much more fun than spending three hours tracing lines from a terrible photograph of the initial drawing. I can tell this thing is going to take forever, though... just coloring the face took about 2 hours. Here's a detail of what I have so far: okay shading and line weight amongst thick lines drawn by a 7-year-old.


Such fun! Hopefully I'll get faster as time goes on.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Digital art.

I'm starting to learn how to do digital art (i.e., drawings, not graphic design) and I thought I'd share. I finally found a good tutorial to teach me to do it. It took forever but I think it'd be worth it in the end. It sucks now; all I have is lines then I have coloring. Maybe someday I'll make amazing digital art, but for now, here's a childesque line drawing.

That was the hard part. Coloring and shading will be the fun (and easy) part. As I said it sucks for now, but I suppose I'll see how it is once it's done.
(The girl is a character from my story... figure I'd draw her since her hair is fun.)

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Can't stop making stuff up.

As you know I'm roughly halfway done with the novel I'm currently working on, but already my brain wants me to write other things. I had a dream last night that was too awesome not to include in other stories, but definitely doesn't have a place in Citadel. I blame watching Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.


Damn this awesomely insane show. I don't even like mecha. I barely even like anime.


Most of my stories are begun by dreams. Usually this is a bad and cliche thing, but I'll roll with it. Citadel was started when I had a dream about an enormous black building that was so high, it reached the clouds. A few months ago, my subconscious decided it wanted to torture me with another storyline and gave it to me in dream form as well. It's a double-edged sword, much like Spiderman's powers.




This is my gift... AND MY CUUUUUUURSE!!

The dream I had a few months ago went like this: There was a girl who lived in an enormous city on the water's edge in the jungle, which was somewhat futuristic and somewhat steampunk. I wish I could describe it better with fewer words, because it was awesome. She had a collar around her neck that she had since she could remember. Her friend helped her remove it, and she transformed into a crane. All hell broke lose, because her kind, those who could shapeshift, had been controlled by the government. The dream ended when she began to plan a revolution.

I wanted to finish my first story, so I wrote it down along with half of a beginning chapter and put it away. Then, last night, my subconscious told me "Fuck that noise" and gave me more. This time it was about an enormous zeppelin that could go into space. Once again I blame watching Tengen Toppa right before bed for the space thing, but the rest of it could be appropriate. Hell, maybe space will be included. Sci-fi isn't my forte, but it's pretty cool, right?

So now, when I'm so close to being finished with my first novel, I'm itching to write the second. It sucks, because I'm churning with ideas for the new story and I feel like I couldn't write my first one now even if I tried. My brain is just too stuck on steampunk and race-class revolutions and magic in sci-fi.


I also blame this sadly underrated movie. DAMN YOU ATLANTIS.

I'm wondering what I should do tonight. Thursday is my Write Like a Fiend night, so I'm torn between working on Citadel and working on the new one. If I work on Citadel, I would be that much closer to finishing it but it wouldn't be nearly as good for the mindset I'm in now. If I work on the new one, it would be pretty damn good by my standards but it'll feel like I'm putting off what I've worked so hard on. Writing is awesome and sucks at the same time.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Orc: A Vignette

This originally began as an inside joke between Sean and me. Poor Argh.


Me am Argh. Argh am orc. Argh have beautiful wife, Urgh, and one... three... seven... two! Two orclings. Argh am businessorc. Me am work for big-wig boss in fancy office, but Argh only have puny cubicle. Boss not respect Argh. Boss says Argh am scary and needs to stop destroying weak co-workers. Boss will one day bow to Argh. But for now, Argh be peon.

This morning, Argh drive to work. Suddenly, Argh cut off by puny human in weak mini-van! Argh furious. ARGH AM BERSERKER-RAGING! Me am burst through roof of car, and rip steering wheel from dashboard. Argh run over mini-van! Mini-van crash into ditch, and Argh rip off mini-van's door! Me am drink blood of douchebag who cut Argh off!

Other drivers stop and stare at Argh. Me am hear human yelling to call cops. Argh no like fuzz! Me jump back into Argh car and put roof over Argh head and drive away. Me am hear the baneful cry of human screams. Argh like human screams. Argh have burnt CD of human suffering that me play in car. It am soothe Argh after long week of work.

Argh arrive at work. Boss yell at Argh. Argh am late! Me am sorry, I tell Boss. Boss glare at Argh. Stupid puny Boss. Argh am powerful! Boss no understand. Argh work on sales graphs. It am tedious. Argh am decide to check on mighty Farmville crops.

Boss catches Argh! Says Argh am fired. Me am say Argh have wife and orclings to raise. Boss no care. ARGH AM BERSEKER-RAGING! Me rip computer from wall and throw at Boss. Co-workers try to calm Argh. PUNY CO-WORKERS! ME AM DESTROY HUMANS AND GNAW ON WEAK BONES!

Security escort Argh out. Tells Argh charges will be filed.

Maybe Argh no should work in office.

Mostly Men Online Role-Playing Girls

Ah, MMORPGs. It brings up feelings of dudes in their mom's basement, chugging Mountain Dew and scarfing down Pizza Rolls, as they yell at the screen because their character's body is being camped. It's the gaming genre that sucks you in and spits you out until you're a hollow shell of a human being.

Okay, maybe it's not like that for everyone. I mean, I have my own apartment, I hate Mountain Dew, and I don't get camped because I don't suck. I even have a job and college with a GPA of 3.6, too! And I, for one, love MMORPGs. I've played World of Warcraft, Guild Wars, Lord of the Rings Online, Everquest II, and am currently playing Warhammer Online.

For the non-game types, MMORPG stands for Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game, but it's often joked that it stands for Mostly Men Online Role-Playing Girls. It's true. 85% of female characters in MMOs are guys, yet they still get hit on by lonely straight 20-somethings. Though nowadays more women are playing these games, back in the day it was rare.

I started playing World of Warcraft in 2006 before the expansions came out, when I played a rogue on Alliance. It was my first MMO, and I had no idea what I was doing. I was wielding a spell-caster dagger, wearing stamina cloth, and didn't know what talent points were until level 20. I was awesome. Then I realized how to play and it got fun. The expansion came out and I joined a guild and raided casually and PVPed.

In 2008, when Wrath of the Lich King came out, I got totally for serious. I was playing a shaman healer and was raiding hardcore. It was fun at first, but after two years of that I was sick of healing people and not hitting monsters with a giant sword. Being useful and saving your group? Pfft. I want blood!

I quit WoW for the third time early this year, although this time it was permanent. I left when Blizzard announced that they're going to have everyone use their real name on their forums, and since I had been stalked in-game before, I really didn't want that. I also found out they had made a pact with Facebook that will bring them more money, because the multi-billion-dollar corporation doesn't make enough. Also, Ghostcrawler is their lead dev and also a whiny moron.

Since then and throughout my time in WoW, I've played other MMOs, and it really makes me wonder: Why is World of Warcraft so popular? Is it because it's easy to learn and grasp? Is it because there's always stuff going on with so many subscribers? Who knows. There's better games out there, though.



1. Warhammer Online




(Watch both, the first is cool and the second has an orc-apult)

Warhammer Online, before it came out, was constantly called "The WoW Killer," a conveted title for a game that has the possibility of destroying the MMO Behemoth so other games have a chance at the subscriber base. I played it on release and absolutely loved it, despite its flaws. Warhammer Online made a fatal mistake, however: it was released before it was fully polished. Subscriptions dropped and everyone went back to WoW, myself included.

I just returned to the game last month, and wow, is it ever the most fun MMO I've ever played. You can choose Destruction, the super-evil side composed of Chaos humans that are Ravengod-worshipping Vikings, Dark Elves that are vampires which worship Khaine (the god of hatred. HATRED. That's how hardcore evil they are), and Greenskins, which are orks and goblins that also happen to be soccer hooligans. You can also play Order, which are made up of Order humans that bring up recollections of the Spanish Inquisition, High Elves that are pretty girly, and Dwarves that have ale-powered technology. No, really.

The game is interesting because there are 24 classes, 4 for each race. Each race has an archetype: tank, healer, ranged DPS, and melee DPS. Each class is incredibly unique. For instance, on Destruction I'm currently playing a Disciple of Khaine, which is a healer that goes into the fray and steals life-force from her enemies while she kills them. On Order, I play a White Lion, who wields a two-handed axe and has a faithful white lion as his companion that grows larger as he levels.

The object of the game is Realm versus Realm, commonly called PVP in other games. Both sides fight to control objectives, keeps, fortresses, and even cities. There are also scenarios, or battlegrounds. A lot of people's problem with this game is that it offers little PVE, but what do you really expect from a game that has such an in-depth PVP system? PVP is more fun and more challenging than PVE anyway, in my opinion.

The only problem I see with this game now is lack of players, and since you want as many players as possible since it is a game involving fort and city captures, this can be crappy. However, the Badlands server is vibrant and alive. Join me in killing Order scrum!

4.5/5 Doritos bags





2. Lord of the Rings Online



LotRO is one of the most beautiful games I've ever played. The graphics are incredible yet not hard on your computer, and the landscapes are literally breathtaking. Most of the time spent playing was simply looking around, because the game itself was so beautiful and detailed.

As a Lord of the Rings nerd, it was a great thing to be in Middle-Earth. The game was heavily inspired from the movie trilogy, so the Shire felt like you were actually there. Better yet was the Epic questline, where you followed the story from Lord of the Rings and assisted the Fellowship in their quest. You get to meet Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, the hobbits, Arwen, and even Tom Bombadil. The crafting system is interesting and in-depth, the instanced quests are epic as all get-out, and classes are interesting and unique. Plus, minstrels actually play music and get to pick between several different instruments, from lutes to bagpipes.

However, there was a problem with the game that caused me to leave. It gets very boring. I reached level 26 on my ranger, and when I was playing with Sean, I was literally bored to tears. I've never experienced such a thing before. I just started crying because I was so bored.

I think the game's problem is the fact that quests start to get stale around mid-game. They start to become "Kill X wolves for me! Bring me back X pelts!" No one likes that.

However, I will give this game a bonus because it has something I adore that many other MMOs lack: player housing. You can choose between a large expensive house or a cheap small house in human, dwarf, hobbit, or elf neighborhoods. I'm super girly when it comes to this because I love decorating. Plus, it's Lord of the goddamn Rings. You can't go wrong.


4/5 Mountain Dew: Code Red cans



3. Everquest II



Sean used to play old Everquest back in the day, and had me try it. I was killed by the first rat I encountered and kept dying. I hated its interface and vowed never to play it again, and then I tried Everquest II.

Everquest II is not only more user-friendly, but its graphics are great for an older game. There's just so much to do in this game. It's somewhat overwhelming. There's a near endless amount of land to explore, tons of races and classes, lots of cities, sprawling dungeons, and a great crafting system.


It's almost a little too big for beginning players. When I started playing I was completely overwhelmed with all the stuff I could do. I spent most of my time in my player house, arranging my bone furniture and dark tomes to look as evil as possible (I played a necromancer).

It's a great game, but new players should take it slow and try out a few different things before they dive in.

4.5/5 Poopsocks



I haven't played other MMOs (besides these and WoW) enough to review fairly, so I'll now discuss upcoming games that I am peeing myself over.


1. Guild Wars 2





I was meh with Guild Wars. It was all right, not great and not terrible. Just... "meh." When I heard about Guild Wars 2, once again, I said "meh." However, the art style piqued my interest. It was so refreshing and beautiful, especially for an MMO, with its painterly style, so I checked into it a bit.

My mind was completely fuckin' blown. Holy shit. If this isn't the MMO to end all MMOs, then the developers are the best liars since Loki.

In this game, you can choose from five interesting races: the hulking and brash Charr, the annoyingly cute Asura with a superiority complex, the Vikingesque Norn, the hippie tree-hugging Sylvari, and humans. This game is interesting for reasons that I can only give coherently in a list:

-You can move, pick up, and affect objects in your environment.
-Different weapons give different skills, depending on class, race, and weapon type
-No grind; you start doing cool stuff at level 1
-Immense, beautiful landscapes and cities
-NPCs that act like actual people and don't just stand around repeating the same scripting conversation for all of time
-You can affect your friends' abilities and spells. For example, an elementalist can lay down a flame wall, while a ranger can shoot through the flames to create fiery arrows.
-Unique and very interesting spells and abilities, that are very real and visceral
-You can choose your personality and build your storyline from there. You can be a smooth-talking swindler, a chilvarous hero, a drunk guy that likes to punch old ladies, or just plain evil.

And the most important point of all:

-What you do will have a complete affect on the environment. An example they give: Centaurs are raiding a town. If you save the town, the town will remain and the villagers will remember you. If you don't, the town is burnt to the ground and everyone in it is either dead or runs away for safety, until the town is moved or rebuilt.

I WANT THIS GAME NOW


2. Tera Online



There isn't much information available about this game yet, but there was one thing in it that was very interesting: real combat. You don't just stand there letting a giant crab-monster hit you. You jump over and under the giant crab-monster, rolling under it to hit its soft belly, or attacking it from behind.

This game also has interesting targetting. Once again, you're not just standing there smacking a cave yeti with your sword. You have to position yourself to hit it. Casters and rangers target it like through a scope. It's really cool and gives a nice challenge.

Two things I hate about it: 1) the adorable dog-racoon things. I HATE THEM. 2) All of the female character armor is beyond slutty. It's a new level of slutty. And the female caster wearing high-heels? HAHAHA. If I'm going to be in the middle of a war, running across the world, the last fucking thing I'm wearing is high heels.

It looks promising, though, so I'll keep my eye out.



Do you play MMORPGs? What are some of your favorites?

Friday, November 12, 2010

50,000 words!

Every Thursday, I go to the 24-hour restaurant where Sean and I work to get away from the distractions of the Internet and write. Last night, I hit a landmark in writing my novel: 50,000 words. I still have a long way to go, both with writing and editting, but hitting 50k words feels like a huge achievement to me even if it isn't that big of a deal. It's the most I've ever written for one piece.

It seems like it's taken me forever to get to this point, but the hardest part of writing a story for me is beginning it. I started actually writing it in July of this year, typing only a few paragraphs a day before I was spent. After I finally completed three chapters, I had some friends read it and the momentum begin. I rewrote what I had and started churning out words. Hopefully, this momentum will continue and I can have my novel done by early 2011.

I really hope that the final product will be decent enough to publish. I'm not looking forward to the piles of rejection letters, but I am looking forward to the day where I'll get that note in the mail that it says it'll be published. I mean, there are some really terrible books out there, so if they can do it, why can't I?

Every author, no matter how famous and how many rejections they've received, have been rejected at one time or another by a publishing. Here are a couple of famous authors and their rejection numbers before they hit that big break:

J.K. Rowling: 12
Pearl S. Buck: 13
William Golding: 20
James Joyce: 22
Madeleine L'Engle: 26
Dr. Seuss: 27
Stephen King: 30
Margaret Mitchell: 38

Keep writing!!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Origami cranes.

I fold a lot of origami cranes. I do other origami as well, but nothing to me is more relaxing or second-nature than folding origami cranes. There is a saying that folding one thousand paper cranes will bring you inner harmony as well as grant you a wish. I'm probably pretty close to that number by now.
For my Water Media project, I'm making even more cranes, two very large ones and several small ones that all hang from the ceiling. My inspiration for this project is the city of Kyoto: a former Japanese capital where you can still find tea houses, geisha, Shinto temples, and other interests of old romanticized Japanese among a sprawling and modern city. It's interesting to see so much tradition and antiquity in a city filled with the uniqueness of modern Japan.

One large crane will represent old Japan. The crane will be painted with traditional Japanese watercolor and calligraphy of scenes of life in this era. The other crane will be new Japan, painted with its bright, colorful, and really strange happenings, styles, and media of the country's today. Each crane will have an army of smaller cranes, each representing one thing of each era. I've five so far, so I'd thought I'd share. My camera is terrible and cheap, so I'm sorry for the blur.

Geisha crane, Orizukuko-chan. She is holding an origami teapot in one wing and a teacup in the other. She wears her hair in the typical style of a geisha past her apprenticeship, with decorative chopsticks in her hair.

Hello Kitty crane, Hello Craney. She loves pink and flowers. She loves flowers so much she has one in her hair and some on her wings. KAWAII DESU~~

Kamina crane, Cramina. He wears his trademark glasses and the collar of his cloak (a real cloak would be awfully hard to fly in), with his blue tattoos seen. Quotes include "Don't believe in the crane that believes in Cramina, or the Cramina that believes in you. Have faith in the crane that believes in you." and "Who the hell do you think I SQUAWWWK?!"

Generic mecha crane, Crundam Wing. This picture is simply awful since I used metallic paper and my camera sucks, but Crundam Wing is covered in wiring. It is the combination of five smaller cranes that come together as a team, proving that only friendship and teamwork will defeat the evil aliens/Cranezilla/other mecha cranes that hate Japan.

Cranichu, the Pikachu crane. Despite the crane's love of water, Cranichu is coursing with electricity, which is a bummer for other fauna in the waters nearby. Cranichu's best friends are Bulbacrane, Charcraneder, Craquirtle, and his trainer, Crash.
If you have a crane you'd like to see in this project, let me know. The only restrictions are the crane must have a Japanese background, either old Japan or modern Japan. Arigatou to ja mata ne!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Panel 3 of Onerionaut.

So for one of my classes I have to work on an independent project. My project is a three-piece multimedia work about dreams, called "Oneironaut" (a term meant to be used for a lucid dreamer). I've posted the first part, called "Drifting." This is the third panel, "Nightmare." Eventually, all three pieces will be connected together with hemp, duct tape, and a string of purple lights.

Inspiration from Japanese horror? You bet your arse.

Two down, one to go.

Read a book, read a book, read a ********** book.

Title is from this song, which half of everyone finds entertaining and everyone else finds offensive.

Books are great, aren't they? Who doesn't love to read? Well, a lot of people I guess. Reading not only expands your vocabulary and raises your IQ (IQ is not intelligence, but your potential for intelligence), it's also fun. In today's blog, I'm going to discuss a few of my favorite books of all time, in no particular order.

1. American Gods by Neil Gaiman



Neil Gaiman is my all-time favorite modern author. He writes urban fantasy with so much depth, detail, quirkiness, and fun, and the characters are always interesting. The first book I read by him was Stardust, moving on afterward to American Gods.

I'm a fast reader, but this book took me almost six months to read. That's how I know a book is good: I tend to read slower when I'm enjoying a book more than usual, reading back over specific parts.

American Gods blends mythology and the modern day together with a dash of fantasy. The protagonist, a quiet man fresh out of prison for assault, goes by the name Shadow. As soon as he's released (a few days early), he's discovered that his wife and best friend, who were having an affair together, died in a horrible car accident. He is offered a job by a man named Mr. Wednesday, who turns out to be the Norse god Odin. Shadow discovers that gods and fantastical creatures exist merely because people believe in them, and they are brought over to the Americas by immigrants from Europe, Africa, and Asia. Throughout the book, as Shadow works for Mr. Wednesday, he comes across many characters who turn out to be mythological creatures or gods from cultures around the world. They discover that the New Gods, manifestations of modern technology such as television and the Internet, are wedging their way in and destroying the last remains of the Old Gods.

The book is peppered with vignettes of immigrants journeying to the New World, bringing their beliefs and therefore their mythology in tow. The modern depictions of gods are fitting and wonderful, such as the undertakers Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel (Thoth and Anubis respectively), or Mr. Nancy (Anansi from West African and Caribbean lore).

It's a unique fantasy, and can be appreciated by those who both enjoy fantasy and hate it.



2. The Canterbury Tales by Geoffery Chaucer


I have found memories of reading this book in my AP English class in high school, where each student was to dress as a certain character and read their lines. I was the yeoman.
The book is a collection of stories told by pilgrims as they venture to Canterbury, and their stories even in this modern age are hilarious. Chaucer uses the characters to show an ironic reflection of England in his era. It's like one of those "Types of People You Meet in College" lists, but better.

The Canterbury Tales is considered to be unfinished, but it doesn't matter since each tale works well as a stand-alone. It's a great glimpse into medieval England, with a humorous side.



3. A Midsummer Night's Dream / Hamlet by William Shakespeare


I'm one of those people that love Shakespeare but despise Romeo and Juliet. It's about two teenagers who get the hots for one another and then go emo. It's also the most overrated story of his collections, when there are ones that are leagues better. If you ask someone what their favorite Shakespeare play is and they say Romeo and Juliet, you know it's just a cop-out answer and there's a chance that they think Shakespeare is a type of crepe.

A Midsummer Night's Dream is utterly ridiculous in the best way possible. It follows the story of four Athenian lovers and an acting troupe that are tricked by fairies of the forest. The fairies seriously screw up the Athenian's love life. Puck, one of the fairies, also turns one of the actor's heads into that of a donkey, and antics ensue.

This is one of those plays that you need to both read and see to get the full hilarity. Everything is just ridiculous.

The other Shakespeare play on the list is Hamlet. Not only is Hamlet far more tragic than Romeo and Juliet, it's much more badass. Seriously, everyone dies in the end. (Don't say I ruined the ending for you, you've had 400 years to read it).

Hamlet is the prince of Denmark, who is visited by the ghost of his dead father revealing that Claudius, Hamlet's uncle, murdered him to take the throne and steal the queen. Hamlet more or less goes completely off his rocker. He's partially faking his crazy, and partially actually crazy. He plots his revenge, but Claudius isn't too happy about it and sends Hamlet off to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Hamlet diverts Claudius's trick and comes back to Denmark to kill him.

It's the Lion King, except by the end Simba, Nala, Sarabi, Scar, all the hyenas, Timon, and Pumbaa are dead along with Mufasa. Pretty harrowing.



4. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury



In the future, reading is outlawed and firemen don't fight fires, but start them. On books. The main character, Montag, is a fireman who meets a new neighbor that shares her openminded ideas. This causes Montag to rethink his own life and his job. He starts to hide books away, curious as to why anyone would want such a thing, but is discovered and goes into hiding. The government destroys itself in trying to kill Montag, and society is left in a pile of ash to start anew again.

This is another book I did for my wonderful AP English class, whereas I made puppets and acted the book out. If you're curious about the title, 451 degrees Fahrenheit is when paper catches fire.



5. Lord of the Flies by William Golding


A group of British schoolboys crash-land on an unhabited island. Everthing seems pretty spiffy at first... there's fresh water, lots of food, and no adults. Slowly, they descend in child savages, some demanding that they should work together for the greater good while others look out for the welfare of themselves. When some of the boys murder another child, Piggy, the main character Ralph escapes into the wilderness alone and manages to be saved by a passing ship.

This book explores the human instinct of survival, whereas civilization will give way to savagery in an attempt to live before all others. It also holds a morbidly romantic sentiment to me (Sean and I met in Political Science 101 the day the professor played this movie).



6. Turn of the Screw by Henry James


Turn of the Screw is a ghost story first and an underlying piece of sexual oppression and dealing with the conservative Victorian era second. The main character is a governess sent to work on an estate owned by a wealthy man burdened by his niece and nephew he is forced to care for. Since he has no interest in raising them, he leaves the governess alone on the estate with the children. It takes a turn for the bad when the boy, Miles is sent home from his boarding school with an expulsion notice, and the children start acting strange.

This is a great novella that has endless interpretations, and is a great read for those who enjoy multiple layers to their books.



7. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley


This book was a big deal because a woman of all things wrote it in the early 1800s, a time when women were best for popping out babies and cooking dinner. Everyone knows the story of Frankenstein, so I won't waste breath here, but there are some common misconceptions you should know:
-Frankenstein is not the monster. It's the doctor who created him, Dr. Victor Frakenstein. Some argue that the monster could be called Frakenstein since it's more or less the doctor's "child," but that just sounds like backpeddling to me.
-Frakenstein's monster isn't evil, but confused, outcasted, and angry at his existence. He takes revenge on Frakenstein by killing those important to him, so Frakenstein would feel the misery that the monster feels.
-Frakenstein and his monster are emo. The monster wears his hair over one eye and has enough My Chemical Romance shirts to clothe China.

Well, there's a handful of my favorite books. Tell me some of yours!

Monday, November 8, 2010

Chapter 1 Excerpt, Part Deux

Here's the second part of my excerpt, which is the last half of chapter one of my story. Kishna goes on her spirit journey, only to be confronted with a disturbing vision. Can she convince Turuna and her chief to believe her? Who knows!! Read to find out!




Kishna raced up the cliff face, stumbling over the rocks with a stitch in her side. The sun had begun to set nearly an hour ago, and now only a thin splash of yellow light was left on the horizon. Kishna burst through Turuna’s curtain, a cacophony of clinking beads breaking the stillness of the twilight.

“I’m so sorry, Turuna,” Kishna huffed, her hands on her knees. “We were watching the dancers, and there were fire-eaters, and time slipped away from us, and-”

Turuna turned, a wolf skull bumbling with sinister viridian liquid in her palm. She patted a blue pillow beside her and said, “No need to worry, dear. Come sit with me.” Kishna complied, nervously eying the green smoke that spun out of the skull.

“Let’s see,” the old woman said. “Quicksilver, a raven feather, imbued earth... I believe that’s it.” She placed the skull into Kishna’s shaking hands.

“Should I begin?” the apprentice asked.“Not yet. First, I have some warnings for you.”

Kishna swallowed. “Warnings?”

“The solution I’ve made is dangerous to anyone else who consumes it, but to a shaman, it allows us to astral project.”

“Separating the soul from the body,” Kishna murmured.

Turuna nodded. “Right. Once you’ve succeeded in transitioning into the spirit realm, your mentor of that world will greet you. I can’t promise what task it will have for you, but I can promise it will be trying. The final test is not easy.”

“Am I... really ready?”

“Ready as you’ll ever be. Now listen, do not stray from your spiritual guide. Your first projection is hard to escape from, and your mentor will be able to guide you back.”“Is there anything else I should know?”

“That should be all. When you are ready, Kishna, you may drink.”

Kishna gazed into the bubbling liquid, holding her nose. It smelled of carrion and musty bones, and the smoke made her eyes water. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the skull to her lips and drank. The solution burned her throat on the way down, the putrid taste sticking to her tongue. Kishna gagged, her fingers tingling as her vision spun like a maelstrom. She looked to Turuna, whose lips moved with speech, but the words were warped and distant.She dropped the skull and her vision went white.

*****

“Kishna.”

It was the voice that had whispered her name at the festival. It sounded like it came from far away on a zephyr, though it also came from nowhere. Kishna rubbed her eyes, blinded by a glaring white light. Blinking, she could see that she was in the middle of the desert, far from Yir’asha, but it seemed different from what she remembered: the sand was much too pale, almost like salt, and the sky was like a bright dreamscape that was spotted with golden clouds.

“Kishna,” the voice repeated. “So you’ve arrived.” Kishna glanced around and almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a white owl behind her. It turned its head curiously, its sapphire eyes inspecting her.

“You,” Kishna said, standing to her feet. “You’re the owl I saw at the festival.”

The owl ruffled its wings. “That was me. My name is Lada, and I am your spiritual guide.” Kishna noticed the owl’s beak didn’t move when she spoke; her voice seemed to be coming from all around the desert.

“Lada,” Kishna said, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Turuna told me you’d have a test for me.”

“Not a test. A vision.” Lada spread her wings and lifted into the air without flapping. “Come, fly with me.”

“Fly?”

“Oh, that’s right. Humans don’t fly too often. All you have to do is jump into the air and swim. Humans can swim.”

Feeling ridiculous, Kishna leapt in the air and stroked frantically, shocked when she stayed afloat. She kicked her legs and looped in the air with a laugh. Lada hooted, almost like a chuckle.

“Follow me.”

The owl flew into the silvery horizon, Kishna following her ivory silhouette. The white dunes below rushed beneath them, glittering like diamonds, though Kishna noticed she had no shadow on the ground. They flew for what seemed like hours, days even, with no words spoken between them.

Finally, they reached the coastline. The water was still as if it were a solid sheet of glass. In the distance, a whirling tempest of smoke rose into the clouds, the stench of burning flesh carried on the breeze. As they neared the smoke, Kishna stopped, gazing at the horrific scene below her.

“No.”

It was a village, its outer walls crumbled to dust and the wooden huts and sandstone buildings smoldering. Bodies littered the ground amongst the rubble, impaled with arrows or reduced to charred bones. Some were still hanging to life by a thread, feebly holding blood into their wounds as they cried ghostly screams. A pyre spat smoke into the village square, though the fire that once burned there was gone.

“This is Yir’asha,” Lada said, “within a single nightfall.”

“But... why? What happened?” Kishna choked.

“I assume you’ve heard of the Noresk Empire?”

Kishna nodded. “They did this... why? They’re the single most powerful nation in the world. What would they want from a village like ours?”

“Do you believe in the gods, Kishna?” Lada asked.

“Well, yes. Of course. What does-”

“What do the gods have that the races of Halrefold lack?”

“Power. Knowledge... immortality.”

“Precisely. That’s what the Noresk king, Falden, is after.”

“But why attack Yir’asha?”

Lada dropped from the air, perching by the dead pyre. Kishna followed.

“Falden is building a citadel,” Lada explained. “Not to the gods, but to himself. In the Noresk capital of Falamäd, he has ordered the construction of a black citadel, so high it reaches the heavens. Falden is imbuing the citadel with magic from mages of all around the world. Once complete, the massive power of the structure would drain the gods, filling Falden with all of their abilities combined.”

Kishna raised an eyebrow. “Would that work?”

“It might. If it does, a human like Falden would be driven mad by the unspeakable knowledge of the gods. He’d be unstoppable. If it doesn’t work, the gods would find out. With the citadel serving as a portal from the realm of deities to the realm of mortals, they would be able to descend, the most wicked of all free to reign chaos on Halrefold.”

“But what does all this have to do with Yir’asha?”

“He needs workers to build it. The laborers of Noresk are not enough for him: he wants the citadel to be built faster. He’s been hiring the Windriders to collect slaves from small villages around Halrefold.”

“Ina was right,” Kishna said. “They have been up to something.”

The shaman glanced around the dreamscape, her ruined home bringing a choke to her throat. She looked into Lada’s bright blue eyes, overflowing with wisdom.

“What should I do?” she said, lost.

“Alert Turuna. She will go to Chief Suranko. Yir’asha will be able to prepare for an attack.”

“And what about the Citadel?”

“Do not worry yourself with it just yet, Kishna,” Lada said. “Save your home before you can help the rest of the world. Are you ready to return?”

Kishna nodded. “Wake me up.”

*****

Kishna’s body jolted. She opened her eyes to see the roof of Turuna’s hut blurred above her, her mentor standing over her curiously. Kishna sat up, drenched with sweat and shivering violently, her mouth as dry as cotton. The world spun.

Turuna handed her a clay cup of water. “That was fast. You were only gone for a half hour. You did well?”

Kishna gulped the water down and her burning throat cooled. “Turuna. We have to go to Chief Suranko. There was Yir’asha and it was burning and the Citadel and-”

“Slow down, dear,” Turuna said, kneeling next to her. “Calm yourself. What did you see?”

Taking a deep breath, Kishna started over. “I met my spiritual guide. Lada, an owl. She took me across the desert to Yir’asha. When we got there it had been destroyed, nearly everyone killed and the strong captured... enslaved. There were so many dead, Turuna. So many... we have to do something...”

“You were shown a vision?”Kishna nodded. “Lada said it would happen tomorrow. An attack from the Noresk Empire, for slaves.”

“Kishna,” Turuna said, her face drawn with concern. “Are you sure it was your spiritual guide?”

“Yes. Well... I think so. She was an owl; a white owl with blue eyes.”

“Hmm. If it was a demon sent to the spiritual realm to toy with you, then that would be a difficult form to replicate. Unless...” Turuna paused.

“Unless what?”

“Nevermind. Come, Kishna, let’s go to Chief Suranko. He’ll have a hard time believing this story, but it’s worth a try.”

Turuna helped Kishna to her feet, whose legs were still uneasy from the journey. Slumping, she followed Turuna out of the hut, the bead curtain clattering behind them and the brisk night air wiping the heat from her body. The stars twinkled like fireflies over the velvet night canvas. Two of the three moons were visible tonight: the golden globe of Sharitku and her shattered son Toritsan.

The two women hurried into town, carts and stages and decorations left abandoned from the festival. Warm candlelight glowed from inside homes, silhouettes dancing over the reed shades. Across the town square rose a sandstone monument, shaped like a pyramid with its top grazed off, lined with statues of the gods of Yir’asha. On either side of the high wooden gate stood two bronze-clad young men, armed with spears and cloaked with coyote pelts. They nodded at Turuna as she approached.

“Turuna,” the first guard said, saluting. “You have business with Chief Suranko at this time of night?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” the old shaman said, leaning on her cane.

The other guard sighed, bored. “You may pass.”

“Thank you.” Turuna hobbled across the threshold, Kishna stepping forward to follow her. Two bronze spears clashed across the entrance, the clamor causing Kishna to leap backwards.

“The girl stays,” the first guard says. “She has no business here.”

Turuna sneered. “This girl is the entire reason I’m here. I’ll have to ask that you move aside.” The two guards remained still, the barrier of spears impassable. With an irritated sigh, Turuna flipped a hand at each guard, a gale blowing them off of their feet and placing them not so gently some thirty feet away. “Come in, my dear.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for that?” Kishna asked, glancing back at the angry guards who struggled to their feet.

“Of course not,” Turuna said. “I’m old, what would they do to me?”

The shamans wandered down the mighty hall lined with blazing torches. It poured into a square room with a single octagonal table, occupied by Chief Suranko. He didn’t notice them entering; he was busy pouring over a long scroll, a hand grasping his temple.

“Suranko,” Turuna said. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

The chief looked up, his brown face slashed with a deep scar. His crown of bronze, lapis lazuli, and peacock feathers rested over his plaited gray hair: it was rumored he never removed it, even while he slept. A leopard pelt was slung over his shoulder and his arms were strong and covered with blue tattoos.

“Oh, it’s just you, Turuna,” he said, rolling up the scroll. “What makes you think you can barge in at all hours of the night upon your chief?”

“Don’t give me that, Suranko,” Turuna huffed. “This is dire.”

“I don’t have time for games from shamans.” Suranko stood and walked to a high bookshelf across from the table, lined with tomes and scrolls.

“Yir’asha is doomed unless you stop being so stubborn and listen to us!” Turuna said, striking her walking stick on the ground. “My apprentice was shown a vision.”

Suranko turned and looked Kishna up and down, unimpressed. “So now you come to me with girls barely past their Adulthood Ritual, crying of nightmares? Would you like me to tuck her back into bed as well?”

“Quit being a grumpy fool. Go ahead, Kishna, dear, tell him what you saw.”

Kishna stepped forward, her mouth open but no sound coming out. Suranko glared at her, impatiently tapping his fingers on the bookshelf. Clearing her throat, Kishna tried again.

“Well, sir, uh... your majesty,” Kishna began. “I’m an apprentice of Turuna’s. And... tonight I was to go on my final test, to become a real shaman. A spirit journey.”

“You have been training a shaman without consent of the Council, Turuna?” Suranko said. “Do you know what this could mean for Yir‘asha if an outsider was to find out?”

“You can’t just expect us to roll over and die off,” Turuna said. “We were the reason our village became what it is today.”

Suranko huffed. “This is a discussion for later. Don’t think I won’t forget about it. Go on, young one.”

“I met my guide, Lada. She led me to a prediction of Yir’asha tomorrow morning. Falden had recruited Windriders to attack and enslave us. Most were dead, the rest, taken.”

Suranko scratched his chin. “You believe this girl's tale, Turuna?”

“She is no liar,” Turuna said. “And her vision could very well become a reality unless you as a chief do something.”

Suranko paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. He mumbled to himself distantly, and then stopped before the shamans. “Very well,” he said finally. “My warriors and archers will be mobilized around Yir'asha’s outer walls at sunrise. Turuna, gather the mystics and tell them to prepare. After you have alerted them, retreat back to your home and hide.”

“Hide?!” Turuna yelled. “Hide? Do you think of me as a coward now?”

Suranko leered. “That’s an order. No outsiders may know of the power that you or your apprentice here hold. That would spell doom for Yir’asha.”

“It would spell doom if you force one of your most powerful allies to cower inside the walls.”

“Enough,” Suranko roared. “Now go. Do as I say or I will consider it treason.”

Turuna shook with anger. “As you wish,” she spat. She turned, storming down the hall with Kishna behind her, silent. The two guards had returned to their posts, eying each other nervously as Turuna came through.

“Now, Kishna,” Turuna said, “I have work to do. Go to the hut and stay there. Don’t leave until morning. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Yes, Turuna,” Kishna said. She watched the old woman vanish into the night. Solemnly, she retreated to the hut, her head spinning and her body aching. Upon reaching the cramped cottage, Kishna collapsed on a large pillow with a sigh, her head still throbbing from Turuna‘s potion. The vision of Yir’asha playing over in her mind, she slipped into an uneasy sleep. That night, Kishna dreamed of fire and smoke.




And that's chapter one. It's my third rewrite... the first draft was simply awful and this one is just kind of bad. Hopefully by rewrite six it'll be halfway decent. Let me know what you think, and most of all: Does the story keep you interested at all? Do you care what happens to Kishna and her village, or would you rather it be burned to the ground so the story will be over?

Friday, November 5, 2010

Nightmares and dreams.

I haven't updated in a bit... what a busy week.

This morning I had some terrible nightmares. I can't remember them too well, all I know is three times throughout the morning I woke myself up screaming. I don't have nightmares much anymore, but when I do they're damned awful.

I do, however, remember my dream from the night before. I was in a Escheresque college with multiple levels that also had a cold-side grocery store beside its classrooms. Handy. One of the guys in my class was a guy I went to school with in high school who had long hair and would (ironically?) put it into pigtails. In the dream, he had Sailor Moon hair with very long hemp hair ties, walking around like it ain't no thang. I should also mention he was wearing a lumberjack's shirt and a blue kilt.

After class, I went to the elevator and came face-to-face with an old friend. He was wearing an ankle-length pink fur coat, an enormous admiral's hat with huge plumes and gems, and had a small chain through his nose and cheeks.

"Hey, what's going on?" he says.

"Not much. Um, nice outfit."

"I know, right?"

He then turns sideways, where an Asian Link is now standing holding a triforce. My friend grabs it out of his hands and says, "That's not for you!" and runs off into the parking garage with it. Link hangs his head and cries as he slumps down the stairs.


Speaking of nightmares, I had one a few weeks ago that bothered me. A year ago, I had a nightmare where I was helping my mom move into a new house. She asked me to take a box to the attic and I complied.

The attic was enormous, with several large rooms and winding staircases. I set the box down and went to leave, when I realized the door was gone: there was just a wall. Suddenly, horrific ghosts and Lovecraftian creatures slunked from the shadows, closing in on me. I can't really describe them, but they give me shivers just thinking about it. I forced myself to wake up before anything happened, a practice I perfected after neverending nightmares when I was a teenager.

A few weeks ago, I had another dream that I was in a house with my mom, helping her unpack. Sean was there with me.

"This house looks really familiar," I said.

"You've been here before, don't you remember?" Sean said.

My mom motions to a box on the ground. "Will you take this up to the attic for me?"

I shake my head. "No way. Don't you remember what happened to me in the attic a year ago?"

I've never had reoccuring dreams, much less a dream that continues itself after one year. Eerie.


What are some of your most memorable dreams?