Crimea, 9/11, Hong Kong, racism, mass migration, global warming, etc.
The world is going down the drain
We live in troublesome times. The Internet’s profound impact on our lives, the individualization of society, the increasing divide between the haves and have nots. As a consequence of previous generations’ ravaging of the planet, global warming is about to wreck the world as we know it, leading to mass migration and human-induced mass extinction. On the other hand, family ties, social bonds are deteriorating rapidly, and we care less and less about those around us. It’s definitely the age of entitlement but the freedom we seek, yearn for, is in many aspects smaller than in previous decades. This might be a long post, so hang in as I try to look at the reasons why, various aspects of it, and what you and I can do to make a difference.
From individualization to entitlement, or how western societal control disappeared
Entitlement takes many forms…
It often amazes me how things have changed since I was a child. Mostly for the better, let me say that before I move on. However, when we abandoned our traditional “family values” and pretty much everything associated with it, we didn’t just rid ourselves of the “bad stuff”, such as control, that sons had to walk in their father’s shoes, that we weren’t allowed to marry whom we loved (some of us no one at all), honor killings, the honor system in the first place, etc. Unfortunately, we also rid ourselves of the positive aspects of familial/societal cohesion: people are lonelier than ever before, mental illness is galloping, grandparents no longer feel obligated to look after their grandkids while their parents work as they, too, are still finding themselves, children no longer care for ailing and/or aging parents, etc. Some of that is remedied by social and health services, but (and I could write a book about this, and I might…) at what cost?
No, I don’t think grandparents ‘have’ to look after their grandkids, but on the other hand, given increasing workloads and career expectations on parents, where’s the relief system? And while it’s a boon that we no longer have to live under the same roof with our elder generations, the lack of social cohesion in society is palpable. There are two sides to every coin, and when I look at my own society, I can see how many immigrant families have maintained that cohesion. Sadly, they also kept the negative aspects, such as honor concepts, non-acceptance of LGBTQ family members, traditional gender expectations, etc.
The extreme individualization we see in our society is visible everywhere: from traffic where everyone feels entitled to go first (regardless of what the law says), to the workplace where people tell their managers that they don’t “feel like” doing certain aspects of their jobs, despite the job description they once signed off on. We all want to be “influencers”, we expect our dream jobs to just fall in our laps regardless of qualifications, we are offended by everybody and everything, and rather than forgiving or giving people the benefit of the doubt, we cry racist, homophobe, islamophobe, etc. We react long before our neurons have had a chance to reflect on the situation to warrant if our reaction is a) warranted and b) appropriate/adequate for the situation. I sometimes wonder: do I have to let people know every single time they say something stupid? Why have we become so confrontational? We are, after all, humans and are prone to making mistakes. Unfortunately, this extreme individualization has dire consequences for our societies, few of which are positive… I’ll explore that in the rest of this post.
The Internet: from freedom of speech to mind control and indoctrination
One of the advantages of being “old” is that I remember the age before the Internet, albeit barely. When the Internet first became a thing, in the early nineties, we all saw it as this amazing thing that would help us become freer, liberated in ways never before possible. We imagined how the “unfree” around the world would be able to access information freely and how the masses would rise in China and elsewhere to demand freedom and democracy. Swell! Too bad it didn’t really work out that way. In an almost Orwellian way, the Internet has instead become a tool to control the masses. China’s great wall isn’t visible from the moon, but it certainly makes sure that the people of China only read and see what the party wants them to see. And while we, in the west, still have access to (mostly) everything, we have become so fat and complacent that we sit in our comfy reclining chairs, pizza slice in one hand, beer in the other, and happily allow us to be manipulated to believe exactly what we always wanted to believe. This bias, this preference to read/watch/hear that which we expect to hear is bad enough when the news/information is unbiased, but in a world where algorithms map our preferences to the t, we are easy targets for all kinds of misinformation and propaganda. Cambridge Analytica and their role in the 2016 US elections and Brexit are bad enough, but with recent advances in technology, so-called “deep fakes” will make your mother tell you in a facetime call that she’s really a mass murderer and by the way never gave birth to you. And since it’s your mother on the line you’ll never know the difference. Already, researchers have put the words of Hitler into the mouth of Obama. We are doomed! And we won’t even know it.
Is it hopeless? I’m not optimistic, but when we see something, hear something that is completely “out there”, it begs to check the source. Call your mom, make sure it was actually her placing the call. Visit her face to face. This is an extreme and unlikely example, but in politics, we’ll see this happen, sooner rather than later. Make sure you double-check and triple-check the source, their bias. Because, and this is crucial, there are always two sides to every story. Before you jump to conclusions, before you make up your mind, make sure you’ve heard at least two sides of it. Actively force your mind to weigh the pros and cons before you decide to cry foul.
Education, the key to a better future
We once understood the need for a good education. Today we need to know and understand things more than ever. Some people don’t want that.
The above is easier said than done. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, our cable news, heck even our favorite department stores all show us what they believe we want to see, hear, buy. Republicans tune into Fox, Democrats into MSNBC, safe to only hear good things about their own. Never to have their values and convictions challenged. To second-guess, to question is hard work, and it requires a basic level of education many of us don’t possess and even more can’t be bothered with.
For decades, school systems have been allowed to deteriorate around the world, at the same time as we know infinitely more now than when I went to school. Just last week, the Swedish school department suggested scrapping any and all history prior to 1700 to make room for contemporary history. People are up in arms. Imagine a child growing up with no basic concept of ancient Athens (cradle of democracy), Rome (basis to much of our legislative traditions, still, not to mention politics, philosophy, etc.), the dark ages, etc. With no understanding of the many wars that plagued us through the eons. How are we to understand contemporary history with not even a hint of ancient history (which goes further back and includes other cultures as well, mind you?)
There is a reason why some don’t want the broad masses to have access to education, to keep them malleable. I’ll use the Romans as an example: “bread and games” Look at a country like Singapore. People are generally content, even though the country doesn’t really know the freedom of speech or real democracy. But as long as people find employment and fun (if you’ve ever been there, you’ll know what I mean) they’re content. However, as soon as the subway stops working, the government faces riots. There are advantages for a system like Singapore’s: it’s extremely efficient and works, but at the expense of minorities. You’re fine if you’re a straight Chinese, but if you’re Malay or, worse, Indian, your choices in life are limited. And other minorities, like the LGBT community, are oppressed. All the while, the richest are getting richer and the poorest lag behind. Never before in human society has the gap between the most fortunate and those least fortunate been greater. And it’s all happened in the past forty years, give or take.
To limit access to education is a tool for the “haves”, of course. Keep the have nots docile. Those of us who want a better future for humanity need to counter that. We need to fight for the best possible education for everybody, regardless. No exception. Nobody gets to be left behind. A comprehensive, free education. We also need to teach our children the consequences of NOT having an education, and I think we need to broaden that discussion from mere career choices to include our civic duties. Education is, of course, not the only factor. Voting is another. And they’re correlated: the more we know, the more likely we are to vote! Gerrymandering, voter registration, and voter restrictions are other tools used to make sure fewer people vote, and again, education and the ability to navigate the shoals of bureaucracy greatly impact those least educated. The reasons why are glaringly obvious as they usually do not vote for those who steal from you.
There’s nothing I can do
It’s easy to feel hopeless these days…
Last Sunday I traveled from Liverpool to Manchester after a book launch. The direct train I was on, to avoid the worst of the traffic from the ongoing Tory party conference in Manchester, had no first-class seats. Suddenly I found myself in an environment I usually avoid. Minutes after boarding the train, two young men came in and sat down in front of me, loud music blaring from their phones. Their voices carried and they talked about stuff I didn’t really care about and most certainly didn’t want to listen to. I put on my earphones and zoned out, too. They quickly fell asleep, heads on the table, with no regard for the third passenger sitting with them. After a while, the conductor came to check our tickets and after having checked everyone else’s, he tried to wake those two. They didn’t respond for the longest time, and I’m unsure if by design or as a result of being drugged (they seemed fine when they boarded the train, but what do I know about drugs…) Police were called and I got to witness just how the world of the disenfranchised looks like. It was painful. And it got me thinking, a lot. What can I do to change their lives? How can I help people care about their lives? Worry about the climate when their only focus is the next fix? The next meal? Clothing their kids?
Can I blame the mom who buys the cheapest eggs, produced by hens in miserable conditions, while I soothe my conscience with organic ones? Can I blame the Appalachian miner who sports a MAGA hat, not realizing that his president’s “clean coal” is as likely to get him a job as the presidents ties ever being in fashion again? Can I blame the South Africans who decry immigration from other countries in the region because they can’t find work back home? Can I blame the illiteral Hindi farmer who kills his newborn daughter because he knows full well that he will barely be able to feed her, but never, ever have the money to marry her off?
We look at the world around us and it feels not only like an uphill, but an insurmountable task. At the same time storms become more deadly, temperatures increase and sea levels rise. It’s easy to get the impression that we are doomed! Yet giving up isn’t really an option, is it? We have to fight, for our own children and grandchildren, for our nieces and nephews, for our neighborhood children.
So, what can I do?
As long as the sun rises in the East, there is hope!
If ever there was a $64,000 dollar question, eh? I think the first thing is to not give up, not give in to the overwhelming feeling “we’re soo screwed!” Because there are plenty of things you and I can do. A change in attitude is the first thing. History teaches us that we can change our fortune. Just look at the American Revolution, the French one. While there were setbacks, in the end, democracy prevailed, and little by little, things got better. The civil rights movement, the 68-movement, and right now, the Friday school strikes are already making a difference.
But you don’t have to go on strike. There are other things you can do. Talk to your Representative, your MP, whoever represents you in your country’s parliament. There is a website listing their name, email and postal address. They might even have a phone. Their job is to represent you, even if you’ve never voted or if you voted for the other candidate(s) in the election. Talk to them, tell them about your concerns, your worries. Tell them what you expect from them. Believe me, it’s easier than you think. Do the same on your regional level, in your city. Talk about your schools, the retirement home your parents are in or let them know what isn’t working in your health care system. It is my experience that most parliamentarians (regardless of what level) welcome the contact to their constituents.
There’s so much more. Recycle. Such a simple thing. Don’t litter in nature. Eat less meat. Believe me, every little makes a difference. I recently read an article about how much microplastic ends up in our waters due to laundry cycles. The longer you wash, the worse it is. I had always flushed down the fibers stuck in my dryer in the toilet. OOPS! Not doing that again. A tiny change for me, walking the twenty extra steps to the trash can, but if we all do that? Imagine how grateful sealife will be for the difference we make. We are, after all, almost 10 billion people. Even if we all ate one less beef burger a week, replace it by something else, better, times billions… Suddenly you can see how even the smallest thing makes a difference.
But what changes to make?
That is where education comes in. Never stop learning. Read the papers, science section. Trust me, those journalists are trained to present difficult academic subjects so we, you and I, can understand. If a source is unknown, is known to be biased (your way or another way), make sure you double-check the article is credible. Google it. Find other sources to confirm. It’s not that hard and after a while, it’ll become second nature.
You can also engage those less fortunate. This is probably the most important, the single most difficult thing we will need to do. We can’t wait for politics to introduce great education for everyone. There was a reason why we once said that everyone should be able to read, write and do math. Duh! But so many still can’t. More now than decades ago, right here in the west. But what good does it do to read if you don’t do so? Our kids brains yearn for the stimuli from their phones and pads, rather than stimulate them with a good book. You can change that. Read aloud! Insist! Really, I mean it. Read for fifteen minutes every day until your child is old enough to read on their own. Then make sure they read a book for a half-hour every day. Soon they’ll be so engrossed in the story they’ll ask you to stay up just a little longer… I know, author optimism here, but I can see how children’s minds are wide open to embrace the imagination books spark. So much more than adults.
But it’s not just kids, is it? It’s our neighbors, our friends. If they give voice to uneducated views, if they speak up against science, engage them. Not aggressively, don’t be condescending, judgemental. Try to understand WHY they feel like they do. Don’t tell them “you’re wrong…” (that’ll only make them reinforce that view), but listen. Then try to offer an alternative view, how their lives can improve, what they can do themselves, without scapegoating, hating, blaming. Possibly help them take the first baby step.
Is there hope for humankind?
Do we have a choice? Can we let things go to hell? If we don’t act, things will get worse. The dark forces that divide us for short-term profit mustn’t be allowed to win. We have enough food to feed all of humankind. There is enough creativity to solve climate change challenges, to slow global warming, halt the mass extinciton of plant and animal species. But we all need to act, beginning with ourselves. Don’t be complacent, don’t give up.
When I began to write my latest books about The Golden One, I knew little about how dire things really are out there. I say that despite having a post graduate education, despite reading several newspapers every single day, despite considering myself engaged in current events around the world. But immersing myself into the animal world, to hear my hero Jason speak to animals, widened my understanding for our planet, our ecosystems. It widened my empathic senses.
A tick. A nuisance, but do you understand it’s place in Mother Nature’s pyramid?
When I saw that spider trapped in my bathtub I wasn’t just sensing disgust and fear of the animal, I was also able to understand how it must feel, the panic of being trapped, unable to escape the white hell of my tub. Rescuing it made me a better human being. Just a couple of days ago I removed a tick who’d been sucking blood from one of our cats. The poor creature began to crawl away on the bathroom floor, probably in a panic, dragging her heavy, bloodfilled body alog the smooth surface. Rather than flushing her down the toilet, like I had done countless times before, I picked her up and released her outdoors. I know that ticks, too, have a role to play in Mother’s great pyramid. Just because I don’t understand that role doesn’t mean I get to play God. Silly, you say? Stupid even, given the diseases ticks carry? Possibly, but even viruses and bacteria play important roles in culling populations, making sure that the fittest survive. Humanity has long ago stepped away from that pyramid, and we control it. But that doesn’t mean we understand it, treat it with respect. The current extinction event points to the contrary.
Is there hope? As bleak as things may look right now, I emphatically maintain that we have no choice. We must remain optimistic. I for one will struggle to the bitter end to make sure my son has a bright future, but not only he, but every living thing on this planet. We are all connected to each other and only together can we thrive.
“To write dance, to dance writing” or how one author was in for a huge surprise!
Cyprus, 1977, a Sunwing resort, lots of Swedish families vacationing, lots of partner swapping going on. My memories of the vacation are sketchy, but a few things are still clearly in my mind: all the empty bottles of booze and wine neatly (sic!) lined up outside hotel rooms and all the angry stares from women at each other at the breakfast buffet as they returned to their own partners after a night away in someone else’s room. As a Swiss, I had never experienced anything like it. The other memory is still etched into every fiber of my body and always will be “bada-bum-bada-ba, bada-bum-bada-bada-bada-bum, bada-bum-bada-bum, ba, ba, ba!” The opening beats of my all-time favorite song: Gimme, gimme, gimme by, yeah, you’re right, very Swedish ABBA. Every night at the hotel’s disco, I’d ask the DJ to play an ABBA song, and every night he’d look at me as if I’d just requested a song only known in the most obscure outskirts of another galaxy.
Until one night, I had already given up hope to ever hear Waterloo, Ring Ring or any other of their early hits, I suddenly hear these beats, for the very first time (the song had just been released) and my body involuntarily began to move itself to the dance floor. I couldn’t help it. I was dancing, ten-year-old Hansli was dancing and crying and felt happier than ever before in his life. Elated, in extasy. Today we’d say “on a trip”, but it was simply induced by the beats of my favorite band. I vowed that night, that no matter where, no matter when, if ever there was to an ABBA tune played on a dance floor, I’d get up and dance along. Forty-two years later, I’m happy to report that I’ve kept that solemn promise to myself. And yeah, no song will ever be able to replace this one as my number one.
You’ve seen nothing yet
Fast-forward to 2019 and a gray half-cold September day in Gothenburg, where now graying me walks into a workshop for a project that I had recently been accepted to participate in. Let me cut and paste the description to give you the same info that I had at the time:
“To write dance and to dance writing is a project that transcends genres through the exploration of the choreography of text, with dance and the written word as starting points. The project has an overall LGBTQI theme, focusing on relationships between people of all ages, gender identities, and functional capacities.”
I’m a prosaist, not a lyricist, not a choreographer. I’ve barely begun this post and I’m already some four-hundred-thirty words into it. Being wordy is a novelist’s blessing. I know from writing children’s books just how much more difficult it is to write concise, precise. I admire the great lyricists of the world, people whose poetry has been moving us ever since the dawn of time. Consider this example from around 1180 AD:
Dû bist mîn, ich bin dîn.
des solt dû gewis sîn.
dû bist beslozzen
in mînem herzen,
verlorn ist das sluzzelîn:
dû muost ouch immêr darinne sîn.
It’s one of the oldest love poems known in Germany, yet the imagery it evokes is so strong. To get an opportunity to actually write with real dancers performing those words, and to be inspired by the dance I behold to write more? What a rare opportunity. I had to try to be a part of it. Luckily, I managed to get accepted and today we embarked on a journey, unlike anything I’ve ever been a part of before.
I inspire you to be inspired to inspire me so that I may be inspired by you.
The organizing organization
Makes total sense, right? For today’s workshop, the three Swedish participants were paired with an author offsite, one in Iceland, one in Norway and one in England. I was paired with English writer Claire Carter, who is a writer, dancer, and choreographer in her own right. We began to talk and I sent her a couple of items that I hoped might inspire her. In return, she sent me a poem and the amazing text she’d crafted based on my cue. It came very late yesterday, after a typical “parent of small child” day, but I had already begun to work on a text in case I’d not get anything from Claire in time. However, based on the two texts (I was unable to completely disregard hers) I rewrote mine almost completely, and by eight am this morning, I felt I had something good enough to send back and to forward to the project team.
Everyone local to Gothenburg met at ten this morning: three curious writers, three professional dancers and three more people from the project team. First, we participated in a workshop with Norwegian choreographer Marie Bergby Hegeland. She had done a project with Norwegian authors who volunteered to dance their books. After seeing some of that work and getting to understand the process involved, it was time for us to get dirty, aka get down on the floor and dance. Mind you, it’s intimidating enough to have four pros around you, plus a well-known choreographer, but to simply get up and start to move to Marie’s instructions was somehow beyond words. It all happened so fast, it came so unexpected that I simply didn’t have time to react, physically or emotionally. The entire workshop was filmed and will be made available as in excerpts to the other participants, along the lines of “what happens in the studio stays in the studio… and online!”
Go with the flow
I closed my eyes mostly and stayed away, in a corner, at first. We began shaking hands, then shaking arms, heads, shoulders, chests, hips, legs and knees. For a good fifteen minutes, we simply moved, shaking like leaves. Initially, I was feeling very self-conscious, stupid even (Marie asked us to internalize the first word that came to mind. The prosaist had to double the dosage…) But after a while, as we moved on to other movements, and even began to interact with others, the weirdest thing happened. While I had to consciously control with of my extremities to shake, after a while of moving about and going with the flow, even interacting with two of the others around me, I simply moved, to Marie’s voice and the music, and strangely enough, pictures began to pop up in my head, like a feedback loop of sorts. Quite extraordinary. The entire exercise of us dancing lasted a good hour and a half. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so much, so erratically, for such a long time. Extraordinary. Scary. Delightful.
After lunch, we began to read the texts that the authors had prepared. I was floored by the quality of the writing. Excellent pieces, each one (well, I can’t really say that about mine, but yeah, the others are really good.) We tested a bunch of different approaches, reading and moving straight away, having different people read each text, reading and then moving, etc. Some of the texts were very physical in nature, others were more emotional to their form. It was exhilarating.
Literal, performance, duet, what will it be?
After a short coffee break, we were paired with a dancer each and Izabell, my dance partner, and I sat down in the studio’s kitchen to chat about mine and Claire’s texts, and how we might morph them from text to dance. With Claire’s text, I could see (from my cues) where she’d taken inspiration from, and it is a very physical text, inviting to move to it. I tried to do the same, but I have to say that I am so “stuck” in the history of how the text came to be, its inspiration, that anything I do, will be quite literal. At first, I refused to tell Izabell where my text comes from and what it ‘means’. I wanted her to think and associate freely, Interestingly, she’d come up with quite an interesting take, death, which will provide my friends at my publisher’s a chuckle. I can see her point though, even though I might word it more as a metamorphosis than actual death (which it isn’t btw.)
We began to move around each other at the kitchen table and test out different things before we moved back into the studio where we tried out both texts in motion. Quite intriguing. We finished off our session by me reading both texts, very slowly, and Izabell improvising a dance. She’s very good at it, and quite non-literal. I did discover, however, that by splitting each row of our texts differently, in segments of two to four words, I was able to direct Izabell, to cue her. This would also involve my intonation, enunciation, etc. That experience inspired me, of course, to think ahead, and be mindful (or not) about how I assemble sentences, words, how I deconstruct meaning and put it back together, differently, to get the dance to go off elsewhere.
There is so much more
I could go on, and on, and on. I could talk about a discussion Claire and I had about the most difficult aspect of dance, how the dancer can get in the way of the dance, and how anything, from music to clothing and the stage can interfere, underline or contradict the message of the dance itself. But alas, you don’t have eight hours, you don’t need to either. I’m sure I’ll be able to report back as this project evolves. The culmination will be next spring with a series of concerts/performances across West Sweden and Oslo. And as scary as the thought might be right now, you might just end up seeing me dance on stage. I choose not to ponder on that aspect quite yet. Yet part of me wishes to be back tomorrow and dance. Instead, I will board a plane toward Liverpool to attend the launch of my latest book. It almost seems like a different life now. Almost.
Before I let you go, here’s the text I had written up for today. I can’t share the others for copyright purposes.
Cowering in the dark, alone
A chameleon, hiding in plain sight
At first, you can’t see it, the light
It cuts through cracks in the dark
Extending toward you, caressing you
Dare you reach out? Dare you touch it?
In time you step out from that dark
and as you spread your delicate wings
Your soul takes flight, at last.
“The beginning is a very delicate time”, so is the ending…
Frank Herbert used similar words at the beginning of his famous Dune series. Allow me to add the four words with regards to ending things. Yes, it is time to bring Jason home, literally and figuratively. One year after the first book was published, the story of Jason Mendez and the Byeonsin is coming to an end. When I first opened the document for Blooming, the first part of the trilogy on my birthday last year, I had no idea where this story would take me. All I knew was that I wanted to write fantasy for a young audience, to be true to myself, and to keep it as contemporary and realistic as possible.
The Forest, this is where I have my best ideas…
Jason came to me, as my characters often do these days, on a walk through the uninhabited part of my home island of Styrsö. I had been contemplating writing a fantasy novel for some time, urged on by fans and reviewers who felt that my writing style would be “perfect” (not my word) for fantasy. I remained skeptical. Simply because I don’t like fantasy much myself. I am not a big fan of that which doesn’t exist, be it vampires, werewolves, dragons or whatnot.
So yeah, I’m a hypocrite. There are no Byeonsin. Or are there? Were there? That was the premise of the story, to create a group of people with a noble task, to keep Earth safe. Safe from humankind’s influence. We live in perilous times, the planet is warming at unprecedented speeds, we lose species (animal, fungi & plant) at a rate that we haven’t seen in eons, and all due to what we, humanity, have been up to since we began to heat our homes and drive our machines with coal in the past 170 or so years. The industrial revolution made us successful and rich (at least in the west), but it’s been fatal for the planet.
If you look at the struggle to fight for our planet, our environment, the young generations are at the forefront. Without much to lose in terms of creature comforts acquired over the past few decades, they are at the front line, fighting for Earth. So is Jason, a metaphor for all those kids out there, fighting to protect Earth.
The final installation of the Golden One is out now.
The Byeonsin, a metaphor
Who are the Byeonsin, and what is their role? When I first began writing Blooming, the Byeonsin was this super cool, secret group of people with amazing powers protecting the world. As my writing progressed, and I think readers have seen this about half-way through Blooming, the way they appear, changes. Gradually. In Deceit, we are tossed back and forth between hope and despair. What is going on with the Byeonsin, are they good? Are they bad? We don’t really know, and you’ll have to read book three to get the final answer. No spoilers today, as difficult as that is.
But without giving away anything of the plot in Reckoning, it is safe to say that the Byeonsin, as a group, are a metaphor for our bad conscience, our lack of action with regards to climate change and the havoc we’re wreaking on Mother Earth. They are a stark reminder that we are failing the planet, failing our fellow species inhabiting Earth, failing our ourselves, our children and future generations to come.
Make no mistake: life on Earth will prevail. Humanity’s situation is not unlike that of another group of animals that once roamed the planet: dinosaurs. After going extinct, some sixty-five million years ago, life continued unabated. Life adjusts, life thrives. So regardless of how we fuck things up, life will prevail. The current struggle isn’t about life, it’s about us. Do we want to continue to shit in our backyards until we suffocate in it or do we clean up our act in time before it’s too late?
A story for all ages
The Golden One is YA, a series for teens. But just like so many other YA stories have captured the hearts of all generations, The Golden One isn’t just for teens. Given the feedback that I’m receiving, the trilogy is captivating grown-ups as much as it captivates kids. And that is as it should be. Because the best stories aren’t “adult” or “YA” or whatever. The best stories transcend generations, age and time.
I think there is enough depth, enough ambiguity, to also get adults thinking and engaged. Life is complex and where the youngest readers will enjoy the story, the excitement, and action, older readers will be engaged by the subtext, the doubt and the interactions between characters. Or so I hope.
Reckoning is available, starting today, at selected bookstores and online as an ebook, in paperback and as an audiobook, beautifully narrated by Vance Bastian.
Happy reading and, as I like to say, welcome back to my world…
The dedication of The Killing Spell. Certainly made my day…
A couple of months ago, I noticed a post on my Facebook wall. Someone had posted a picture from a book, thanking me and a couple of other authors for our help in making the book possible. I was intrigued. Rewind the clock another couple of years to 2016 when I was contacted by Shane. He had some questions about writing and publishing. I was happy to respond and connected him to a local South California writer friend of mine. We’ve been loosely in touch ever since, but the release of his book caught me by surprise. Seeing the dedication with my name made my day. I bought the book and asked Shane to sign it for me. After it arrived last week, I’ve finally had the chance to read it, even though I’m in the thick of publishing one myself, not usually a time when I read.
The Killing Spell is a youth novel in the Harry Potter tradition
Remember that first letter to young Harry Potter, inviting him to attend Hogwarts? That is exactly how The Killing Spell begins, with a letter to the main character in the book, Edward Peach. I won’t spoil the story. There are other similarities and Shane has cleverly placed his novel with references to the Potter universe and others. The big difference? Where there is no mention of any LGBT characters in Harry Potter (until way after every book was published and the money safely in the bank), Edward is openly gay. At least to the reader. He’s not really interested in going to the prestigious school he’s invited to, but goes anyway and soon meets another youth, merely mentioned as Mr. Andreas. His first name carries a curse and must not be mentioned.
I presume there will be more books about Edward and Mr. Andreas, as the story mentions fifth-year students. The language is carefully crafted to suit Edward’s very English background and a young audience. I’d have no qualms recommending this to kids ten years or older. The YA genre is a bit misleading because the books are typically written for teens or youths, not “adults”, young or not. It is what it is.
My very own signed copy of The Killing Spell
The language makes this an interesting read
Readers who are familiar with the wizard genre will quickly recognize themselves and the reading flows easily. I’ll be honest and readily admit that I’ve not read Harry Potter myself. This is not typically a genre I read. So I don’t know how Ms. Rowling crafted her books, nor am I interested in how Shane’s writing compares. His language is interesting and I’ve found myself more than once having to look up expressions that I was unfamiliar with. So thanks for those lessons in British and Australian English. Narrated in the first person, we get to know Edward intimately, his thoughts and dreams. As he often thinks about Mr. Andreas and the latter is a bit of a cumbersome expression to use frequently, Shane had to come up with quite a few synonyms to use.
To make being gay an integral part of a story is an interesting approach. Not because we are part of society, but because it’s so rare. In mainstream media, young LGBT character portraits are still largely revolving around the coming out, the discovery of their sexuality, e.g. “Call Me By Your Name” or “Love, Simon”, to mention two recent examples. To write a story about a character who faces adventures, and challenges despite being gay are most refreshing. Shane does an excellent job at portraying a youth who knows he’s gay but whose sexuality still has not come to bloom. The descriptions of a first kiss or a sleepover are so sweet and innocent, but yeah, very realistic. We’ve all been there, done that. Maybe not always this innocent. But let me reiterate: this isn’t primarily about Edward’s sexuality, but his innocent relationship to Mr. Andreas is at the center of the plot for reasons I can’t divulge without giving away the plot.
I read this book in three sittings but could’ve in one. I was positively captivated and wanted to find out what was going to happen next. The ending had me want more, and given that Edward only just got through his first year, I suspect there could be at least four more books to make this a really nice series. Needless to say, I’m curious as to what Shane will throw in Edward’s path next. We get to know a little bit about the school, the houses it’s made up from, etc. but there is not much detail and I was often left wanting to know more. Why is it this way? There will be plenty of filling out to do in subsequent books, should Shane write them, not only allowing for further character growth but also to expand the universe of Arcadia and Prymoutekhny Wizards Academy.
If you like to read fantasy books, or if your kids do, I highly recommend you to give this a chance. The Killing Spell is published by Deep Hearts YA and is available from all your regular outlets, including Amazon.
It’s happening right now, in a way we never thought possible…
I read the strangest article (in Swedish) in one of my regular newspapers, about pop stars, models and social media influencers that don’t exist. Think about that for a moment. There are artificially created people on Instagram and elsewhere, with photorealistic imagery that do not exist. Yet they have millions and millions of followers, some of them even publish songs. And at the same time, we have politicians all over the globe who lie more frequently than they tell the truth and accuse everybody who doesn’t agree with them to lie and label any news outlet who disagrees with them as fake news. And no, Donald Trump isn’t the only one. “Fake news” has become a thing for far too many politicians in every corner of the world. He simply “perfected” the act. Fake news is no longer about news which is incorrect, fake news is news you don’t like. What a fundamental shift in connotation, in just three years.
Fake people, fake lives, lies, and truth interchangeable, how are we as ordinary human beings going to survive this? How will we, as humanity, be able to overcome the threats to the very core of our society if we keep blurring the lines between reality and fiction, imagination and deception?
Not a new idea, or concept
I’m not the first person to think about this. And smarter people than I have been trying to show us possible outcomes for decades. Picture the Terminator and the threat of what AI could do to humanity. Or worse, The Matrix. These movies were all pre-Internet, and pre-virtual/augmented reality. I saw another flick called Player One a few months ago, which is a movie that actually does take place knowing where we are today, and it painted a bleak picture, too, albeit with a happy ending.
I’ve also read articles littered with examples of so-called “deep fakes”, of YouTube or news cast-style videos that were completely fake, with “real” people saying things they’ve never said. With our current level of technology, you can interchange Mother Teresa and Adolf Hitler, although that doesn’t really achieve much for anybody. However, what if say you could have a candidate for the 2020 Presidential campaign say something untoward? And what about someone who’s actually said something untoward being able to completely deny it? Even though the latter happens already.
It’s on the radio, it’s got to be true!
Many years ago, I was actively engaged in public access radio, which is a great way for ordinary people to express their opinions on FM-radio. More than once I encountered people who would complain about things said there, particularly if it was from someone who was from a rival political party or ethnic groups. Oddly, when I reminded them that it was our remit to transmit our own opinions, not state facts, I would often hear “but it’s on the radio!” as if the mere fact that they heard in through an FM-receiver somehow made whatever statement be the truth. I am afraid that we all suffer from that mentality, a little, and it’s enhanced when we hear it on TV, or from one of our elected officials, even though, these days, we can’t really trust anything we hear. We all have to double-check the facts.
Add to this the fact that more and more of us live our lives on social media, that people mourn the deception of so-called “friends” online, people they’ve never even met. How can anyone trust a complete stranger whose words you read on your computer screen, without the infliction of the tone of voice? Need I remind you of how quickly we descend into trolling when we think we’re alone and anonymous? It’s so easy to hurt people online, and it’s so simple to create misunderstandings when you don’t really know the person on the other end, do not understand what personality they have. Suddenly, the most innocent joke turns into the vilest of offenses and we “block” that someone, never to speak to them again. Virtually anything can create an online shitstorm. All among people who don’t know each other, not really.
Forget to like a friend’s post and you’ve begun your journey to forget them…
Then you have the algorithms of the various social media engines who ruthlessly serve you what is in their best interest, not what is in yours. Forget to like your friends umpteenth cat meme and they will slowly but surely wither away from your stream (and–sadly–your consciousness) replaced by advertisements for things you incidentally said to Alexa, Cordana or whatever other assistants you’re using or searches made or click-bait you couldn’t resist. We are manipulated online and it’s getting almost impossible to resist the allure of the almighty algorithm. Don’t believe me? Go have a look at what your interests are on Facebook, based on the site’s ad-settings on your profile. It’s not only a good idea to detox those hundreds (!) of “interests” every now and then, but some also provide a clue as to how the algorithms work and more than a handful of headshakes as to how stupid they actually are. No AI out there, yet!
Combine all of the above and you have a toxic cocktail. And as an author and creator of fiction, I wonder. Will I still be needed in the future? Will anyone still read my stories? My books? I do not know. If we start to live the fiction and use our personal lives to escape the harsh reality of this world, will fiction be there to bring us back to reality, after a long hard day in Escapia? Or will we become completely superfluous, no longer necessary since our own chosen realities surpass anything fiction could ever hope to offer? A world where every human is the main character in their own story, and we all walk through the streets with our 3D goggles on, eating at Klingon restaurants, being served by people we don’t look at, servers who think they’re serving us to the Minotaur of their own reality. Meanwhile, the puppet masters sit in their mansions enjoying the spectacle we’re making of ourselves.
Where will we be in a few years?
I don’t have the answer to any of my questions, but I worry. I wonder if humanity is equipped for the future we’re setting ourselves up for, or will we, given climate change and the potential for human conflict inherently part of it, be the end of ourselves long before we reach the full potential of that future?
What do you think? Feel free to comment and discuss.
My first planned trilogy was the most gratifying adventure
The final installation of the Golden One will be out 9/19.
When I create a trailer for a book, it’s a sure sign that it’s almost time to release it.I’ve created (amateurish) book trailers ever since I released Jonathan’s Hope in 2013. Although only six years ago, it seems as if it’s been half a lifetime. Seventeen trailers so far, the latest one created yesterday. It’s a hobby, and while I’ve become better at the technical aspects of it, I’m still a writer, not a movie director.
I recently met a real-life Hollywood producer and I’ve been thinking about which of my stories is most cinematic. Sometimes, people ask me about who I’d like to play a certain role, an answer I routinely refuse to reply, for several reasons: a) I don’t want readers to replace the image of the character they have with some random actor’s face and b) that decision I leave in the capable hands of the movie makers. They know better who’s a good fit for that role. IF any of my books ever make it to the silver screen. Having said that, I keep coming back to Willem and Jason, as two stories that might be predestined. Both are epic tales and I believe they’d both make for great movies.
Jason’s story is almost over
When I first met Jason, he was a pup, your typical teenager. Yes, being relatively poor had left its marks on him, but he was still relatively carefree and naïve. When I proofed the book the other day, thirteen months after having embarked on his journey, Jason was a different person. Weighed by the enormous responsibility placed so squarely on his shoulders, but also wise. There is a scene that I find particularly interesting, between Hannah, the first person who discovered his power, and Jason, at his house. In my eyes, it’s a key scene for the entire book, and I won’t spoil it for you. But when you read it, pay close attention to it, the change it showcases within Jason. Quite profound.
One of the things that scared me, as a writer, the most was the revelation that “no Golden One has ever returned from their final mission.” To write about people long ago, who are dead regardless, is one thing. But to speak of a human being who’s alive, right now, and to know that their life will end at the end of the story, is always difficult. I’ve done it a couple of times now and it’s always a painful thing to do. The advantage of this story was that I had a year to prepare for it and once I got to it, the story flowed easily, and the end of Reckoning is exactly what I had hoped for. I know, I know, it’s ugly to praise oneself, but I’m really pleased with this one. LOL
What’s happening between now and September 19th?
The manuscript is still going through extensive proofing, and I will certainly read through it at least once more. But there are several pairs of eyes on the manuscript. The other day, I sent the manuscript to Vance Bastian, who’s my narrator. Books one and two are already out as audiobooks, and I hope to have the third one ready in time for the actual release of Reckoning on September 19.
Preorders for the books are already available. Unfortunately, there are no preorders available for the audiobook version.
What else is going on in my life?
I’m about to head out west, to Washington, DC, for OutWrite 2019, the annual writer conference in the U.S. capital. I’ve never been, but I hear good things. I have a reading on Saturday, themed “Revelations”, and I’ve chosen snippets from Disease, Willem of the Tafel and Blooming which I think might work well. Three very different stories and they’re all scenes that contain revelations of some sort.
If you’re anywhere near DC, it would be great to meet you. I’ll also be selling my books at the event, including Spanish Bay, with the all-new cover. See you in DC?