Tag: fiction

Still Seeking a New Earth

Jon

Do you want a new earth?

Look around you. Do you like the brokenness you see? Do you like the shattered relationships? The poisonous addictions? The faltering environment? This earth isn’t good enough, and you long for something more.

That’s why we tell stories.

We want a world where the wonders that we glimpse here can be seen in full. Because there are wonders here, you know. There is love here, so we imagine what love would be like if it were something even more, something bigger, something truer. We see magnificent art here, so we ponder what art would be developed in a world less shattered than our own. We see majestic animals here, and we postulate what they would be like somewhere else.

We want a new earth, where the goodness we see through shadowed glass here might be unleashed. Continue reading “Still Seeking a New Earth” →

Get your poetry out of my narrative!

Jon

So, I’m a bit of a weirdo. One of the hardest things about being a weirdo is that you don’t know if you’re weird in any given moment, or if how you are is actually normal in this one case. There’s a reason I love the internet so much: It reveals that my weirdness is often shared by so many people!

So, this is a thing that I think is weird, but maybe it’s not. Let me know what you think.

I have a hard time reading poetry and songs when they appear in novels.  Continue reading “Get your poetry out of my narrative!” →

Failure and the NaNoWriMo Writer

Jon

We’re ten days in. One third of the sand has run out of the glass. I hope you’re a good chunk in.

I decided. Time to set aside the showman’s tall, tall hat and simply work the keyboard, pouring blood and ink into the creation of worlds. It didn’t matter if at the end of November I’d shed one world from my veins or a cacophony of little earths with their own stories. Every night in November I would return and write again. It was past time.

I wept to create.

Ten days in. Ten days that were meant to respark what I had lost since my little worldseed was born. Ten days toward more worlds, breathed into being, nurtured in the golden light of syllables carefully selected and precisely arranged.

Care to guess how far I’ve gotten?

One thousand words.

That’s it. Continue reading “Failure and the NaNoWriMo Writer” →

The Martian Author

Jon

Come one, come all! I have a chronicle here that will be beyond your wildest dreams! Well, maybe not beyond yours, kid. You look like you have some pretty fierce imaginings. But for MOST people, it will be beyond your wildest dreams!

You see, I collect authors. Well, not their bodies. Normally. You have to pay extra to see those. But I love collecting the odd book that’s not well-known or perhaps the author is unique.

And in a recent author-hunting expedition, I found myself on the Red Planet itself!

Kid, you already paid for your ticket. You can’t have it back.

I encountered the famous H. K. Devonshire! Who, you may ask? Well, why not have him tell you himself! He consented to an interview once I freed him from my devious trap. Devious? Did I say devious? I meant we sat down to coffee. Really. Continue reading “The Martian Author” →

The shore… or the sea?

Jon

Ah. You’re late. Sit down.

No, no, I’m sure you have a fine excuse. This is not the Midway. You are not a customer in a worldstore. This is a lecture hall and your late arrival has disrupted a lecture on the patterns of world formation when looked at through the lens of storytelling. In other words, seeing patterns in literature.

As I was saying, class, as we look at the worlds that authors create, we discover many curious consistencies. For instance, the boat.

The sailing vessel has long been the object of storytelling, from Homer to Hornblower, from Sinbad to Sisko, from Aubrey to Archer. Continue reading “The shore… or the sea?” →