Alea Jacta Est

In Mr. Obama's own words:

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"I now have been in 57 states -- I think, one left to go." ~~ Candidate Barack Obama, Oregon, 2008.

"Anybody been to Whole Foods lately and seen what they charge for arugula?"

Candidate Obama in Iowa, 2008, relating his own grocery store shopping experiences to the common people.

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"It's not surprising then that they [voters] get bitter, they cling to their guns or antipathy to people who aren't like them, or anti-immigrant sentiment, or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustration." -- Candidate Barack Obama to middle-class voters in Pennsylvania, 2008.

"The Cambridge Police acted stupidly." ~~ President Barack Obama, July, 2009, on the arrest of Professor Henry Gates.

"The Middle East is obviously an issue that has plagued that region for centuries." ~~ President Barack Obama, Florida, 2010.

"So, I have been a little amused over the last couple of days where people have been having these rallies about taxes. You would think that they would be saying 'Thank You.' " ~~ President Barack Obama, April 2010.

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Maybe this explains why the President is not permitted to have Press Conferences and uses a Teleprompter (TOTUS) all the time.

President Barack Obama speaking to elementary school students in Maryland, 2010.

Joan -- the Editor

Just in case you thought the Chicago Manual of Style was rough on writers whose careful quotient was low, please meet JOAN -- Mrs. Giles.

She can spot a single space after a period as soon as she turns the page, and then takes obvious delight in darkly circling the needy spot. SPACE, she tirelessly writes.

Then there is my need to capitalize words for emphasis, uhh, Emphasis. My penchant for this new and inconsistent addition to the English Language must be very frustrating for Joan, offending her sense of proper rule-following, since I do it over and over Again. If the poet, ee cummings, could play with capitalization and word placement,

why

Can't I?

Finally, I find the ellipsis a very useful form of punctuation ... say, when characters are thinking, looking for just the right ... word. Or, when the villain catches himself from saying the spot was caused by "blood" and instead says ... "wine" after a pause for consideration or for ... effect.

Joan's quarrel with my ellipsis is that they should be . . . that is, three periods separated by spaces, but that really calls too much attention to itself. I want something that the reader "trips" over and pauses to catch their ... balance, rather than pausing to catch their . . . balance.

Joan is very specific, and I'm ... well, Scattered. The differences between us has kept us married for 44 years, and has led to some spirited, if arcane, Discussions.

"Grammar is not a time of waste."

~~ Bart Simpson

Writing

Rewrite, revise, ellipsis, spellcheck, Chicago Style Manual, rejection letter, Chapter Three, drop cap, page break, cut, paste, copy, clarify, redo, find, replace, eat, pay attention to wife, cook, wine. Sleep.

"I'm not a very good writer, but I am an excellent rewriter."

~~ James Michener

Writing

Revising, revising, revising -- capitalization, grammer, em dash, grammar -- cutting, substituting, moving, synonyms, missing words, fleurons. Singing, shopping, church, cooking -- revising, revising, revising. Five pages a day, 125 to go.

Writing

I couldn't let it go! Yesterday, I added three pages to the end of my book. It is an improvement, I think. Joan will tell me.

Maybe this is all about avoiding the rewriting process. I'll have to think about that.

"Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday"

~~ Don Marquis, American novelist, playwright and poet -- 1878-1937

I have completed the principal writing of my third book. It was difficult sleeping last night as I had nothing to resolve about the book. Today, I am having trouble focusing or even getting the energy to organize myself for reading and revising. It is printed out waiting for me to put it into my three ring binder, but the idea of picking it up is not appealing. I liked the story very much -- was even moved to tears several times in writing it -- but this phase is hardly my favorite. After I make the revisions, I need to get it to an editor to do what editors do. But right now, I need to get started. Maybe after I take a nap!

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

~~ Ernest Hemingway

Writing

Writing, writing, writing -- sleep -- eat. Writing, writing, writing. Almostattheend. Then revise, revise, revise ...

Writing: Chapter 4

From 800 AD to 1400 AD, a Global Warming period struck the Northern Hemisphere. During this time, the Vikings discovered and settled "Greenland", naming it Green because it was warm enough then to be green and to grow agricultural crops. Today, of course, Greenland is mostly ice-covered and its name a contemporary misnomer.

In my third book, the Native Americans present around the year 1000 are living through this warming cycle and are, in fact, having to deal with the results Mr. Gore alludes to as "man-made." (No, I am not making a political statement.)

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This is the reportage on a scene from Chapter 4 which is setting up a later physical conflict over food -- one tribe against thieves who want their food reserves.

The heat and the lack of rain, has been very hard on the Tribe because the food has not been as plentiful. The plantings have produced pitiful results, even with planting fish skins and water from the springs.

The dry and the heat have increased the amount of insects and have made them more vicious towards humans and more ravenous towards vegetables. New insects seemed to have emerged from the cracked soil while the hoppers prosper and multiply, bringing large white birds who take our fish before we can.

From the cave, I could see the winds whip around in circles, causing dust to rise and be blown away from our fields. Even I as one person, could notice that the coyote were becoming more plentiful and were beginning to hunt young deer in packs, causing the deer to be less plentiful and those who were there were more cautious.

I could also see from the cave the shallow depths of the two rivers. Their banks were never full and many times in the Great Heat, their waters would be reduced to small flows in their main channels. The fish would be jammed together in the small space and the otters, fox and hawks would take more than they should, causing the fish to be fewer and fewer.

All of this was worrisome and there seemed to be nothing that we could do. Some of our villagers had left us, to wander the river banks in search of a better place. Most of us who remained behind, thought it best to stay together as a group, but taking up the wandering life did have its appeal, as our ancients had practiced it many years earlier.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

~~ Dr. Seuss

Writing: Chapter 4

Consumed with writing, I have finished Chapter 3, a transitional chapter, and now turn to Chapter 4, a critical chapter. It opens with our main character, Young Heron, curious about the activity in his estranged village that he is witnessing from above:

Word had quickly spread through my Village of some important event; the people were running from hut to hut, meeting in the Plaza. Even from my high lookout, I could tell that they were excited.

I left my cave and climbed to the Sentinel’s camp on top, but he was not there—probably hunting, I thought. From my vantage point, I saw my son of twenty seasons, Heron, climbing the hill without regard of being spotted. He must be coming to tell me of the event, but he should be more careful. Heron arrived, just as the Sentinel emerged from the trees on the ridge, carrying a gourd that was sloshing water. Neither of them seemed concerned about the other’s presence; it was confusing to me.

“Father,” Heron said excitedly, “the old Chief of Chiefs has died. Grandfather says you are free!”

The sense of what Heron said did not immediately set in. The Sentinel arrived. I turned to him. “Is it true that the Chief in Chi’cotha has died?” I asked him.

“Yes,” the Sentinel replied flatly. “The Council has named White Eagle from Nurk as the new Chief.”

They could have named Father, but for my mistake twenty seasons earlier. The Sentinel seemed to be making preparations to leave, but it was not time for a new Sentinel – not till the next moon. What did this mean?

Ink and paper are sometimes passionate lovers, oftentimes brother and sister, and occasionally mortal enemies.

~~Terri Guillemets, Anthologist

A 5% Pay Cut for Congress

Meet Rep. Ann Kirkpatrick, D-Arizona. She represents the First Congressional District of Arizona, an area that, if it were a state, would be the 25th largest state

Her website indicates that she was "born and raised in Greater Arizona. Representative Ann Kirkpatrick’s first words were in Apache, and she has spent her whole life serving her home state - as a mom, as a prosecutor, a teacher, a small business owner, a community leader, a state legislator and now as a Member of Congress."

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She is a first term Congresswoman, having been elected in 2008. She has proposed that members of Congress take a 5% pay cut, or about $8,000. Congress has not taken a pay cut since 1933, the height of the Great Depression. Twenty other members of Congress have signed on to support her bill, despite the fact that Congress is considering a pay raise for themselves.

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I spend a lot of time in this column railing against the offenses of Congress, but here is an idea from them that I support. If you do also, then I suggest you call your Representative and ask them to get behind Rep. Kirkpatrick's idea.

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Currently, Rep. Kirkpatrick already gives 5% of her salary back to help pay off the National Debt.

"It is not fair to ask of others what you are not willing to do yourself." ~~ Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady, 1933-1945

The Consent of the Governed

A January, 2010, Rasmussen poll of US citizens found that 45 % of us believe that randomly selected citizens from the phone book could do a better job of legislation than the current bunch in Congress. One wonders what the percentage would be today, given the accusations or revelations of Rep. Eric Massa (D-NY).

Our Declaration of Independence says that the National Government "derives their just powers from the consent of the governed." (That's you and me, Dear Reader.)

A new Rasmussen poll shows that just 21% of American citizens believe that our current government has that public consent.

How do you feel? Do you give your consent to this group? Are they representing your will the majority of the time?

Rasmussen then went on to survey the Politicians about their estimate of ratings on having the public consent.

61% of the political class believe that they have the consent of the governed! A big disconnect between their estimate of consent and the public's actual consent, would you agree?

Why the disparity? Well, if most of your waking moments are spent talking to those in the bubble around our nation's Capital, you develop that attitude, while on the other side of the Potomac River, the nation is simmering in discontent with the amateurish antics of the political class, their out-of-touch legislative agenda, and the disrespect they have for the American Public.

Vote them out -- all of them.

"Politicians are like diapers; they need to be changed often and for the same reason." ~~ Mark Twain

Writing: Chapter Three

So far, my discipline for writing has held. I am sure that the cold weather has something to do with it as the distractions are limited to things inside the house. Chapter three is now 12 pages (about 18 book pages) and 5000 words.

In this chapter, our hero is 28 years old, and despite being banished from his village for an indiscretion with an older woman, he and his "one," (wife) Lone Bird, have managed to create another child, a three year old daughter, Little Fawn, whom he has not seen since she was an infant.

The scene below takes place in the woods, near a spring -- a familiar meeting place. Although he does not know who might be coming to meet him today, our hero, Young Heron, has arrived early, eagerly awaiting whomever might appear:

From my hiding place in the woods above the rocks where the springs flowed, I waited. Then I heard the sounds of a little girl crying and I knew Lone Bird and my daughter were coming. But the first person I saw, was my son, Third Heron, who came cautiously creeping into the opening around the small pool of the spring’s waters, as if to see if any animals were drinking there.

Then running into the opening came Little Fawn, cuter than I could have imagined. I had not seen her since she was a baby, but now she could walk and run and was beginning to talk to her brother, when her mother, my One appeared, trotting after Little Fawn. My breath was taken away by seeing all three of them there. And, following Lone Bird was Mother. What a gathering this would be!

I whistled the call of the redbird—“purdy, purdy, purdy, wheet,” to let them know that I was nearby. Third Heron looked back at his mother, and she nodded ‘yes’ to him. My son then answered my call with his whistle—“piddy, piddy, piddy, wheet.”

I was thrilled; tears of joy and pride welled in my eyes, as I bounded out of my hiding place and ran down the hill. Little Fawn was frightened by me and hid behind her grandmother. Third Heron ran to me and hugged me strongly. He was ten years old and getting big.

“Aiyee,” I shouted happily. Mother returned, “Aiyee, my son.” Little Fawn stepped halfway out from behind her grandmother and stood with her fingers touching her lips.

Lone Bird looked back at Little Fawn smiling and said in an encouraging tone, “Aiyee,” with her voice rising at the end. She and Little Fawn had practiced this greeting for me, but Little Fawn was unsure. “Come on my Fawn, you can say it, with me. “Aiyee, Father.”

And shortly, alone by herself, Little Fawn ventured softly, saying “Awee, Faver.” It was precious. “Aiyee, my pretty daughter,” I said gently, and she smiled and turned her head in embarrassment.

"A grownup is a child with layers on."

~~ Woody Harrelson, American Actor, b. 1961

Reconciliation in the Senate?

"The misuse of the arcane process of reconciliation—a process intended for deficit reduction—to enact substantive policy changes is an undemocratic disservice to our people and to the Senate's institutional role." ~~ Sen. Robert Byrd, D-West Virginia.

Senator Byrd has written a four volume set on the rules and procedures of the Senate and is not just "an" expert, but is "the" expert on the use of Senate rules. When he states that the process of "Reconciliation" is only for deficit reduction, then the authority on the matter has spoken. End. 30-30.

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Yet the Obama Administration continues to push for Health Care reform, despite the fact that the American Public does not want it. The populace may want parts of it, but not the whole enchilada that consumed all of the 2009 legislative year. Why is President Obama persisting on making this controversial and destructive push again?

The Wall Street Journal has suggested a reason for the President's determination that seems plausible to me: "he's volunteering Democrats in Congress to march into the fixed bayonets so he can claim an LBJ-level legacy like the Great Society that will be nearly impossible to repeal."

Obama's legacy as President? Is this what this unpopular, unwanted exercise of power by the President is all about? Ego? All other reasons seem to pale next to this one. And if so, is this a proper use, or attempted use, of the Presidential powers? The Wall Street Journal's article is entitled "Abuse of Power." A serious charge for a serious matter, n'est-ce pas?

"Whom the Gods would destroy, they first make mad with power."

Writing: Chapter Three

I am continuing to write daily, averaging about a page a day. Our now 28 year old hero has been sentenced to spend his lifetime in seclusion -- in a cave -- and Chapter Three is about what has taken place in the first ten years of his supposed isolation. He and his "One," Lone Bird, now have a three year old daughter, so I leave it to you, Dear Reader, to surmise how that might have happened in his decade of imposed loneliness.

When a man looks across a street, sees a pretty girl, and waves at her, that's not a rendezvous, that's a passing acquaintance. When he walks across the street and nibbles on her ear, that's a rendezvous!

~~ Wally Schirra, 1923-2007, US Astronaut and Navy Pilot with 267 Carrier landings

Writing: The Third Chapter

The Second Chapter is now complete -- 16,000 words and 41 typed pages, about 60 book pages. It is not edited and I still have some open questions about it, but overall, I am pleased.

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In the third chapter, our central character is 28 years old. Whereas the second chapter had conflict as well as happiness, the third chapter will be more cerebral.

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Young Heron has been living in a cave for the last ten years, part of a punishment handed out by the Chief of Chiefs. Even though Young Heron, our hero, is not supposed to have contact with anyone, over the decade, he has befriended the Sentinels -- lookouts, stationed on the hilltops -- who guard his Village from attack.

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In this winter scene, our hero, an artist, calls to the Sentinel to come into his cave and warm himself by Young Heron's fire:

"The Sentinel, having made his way down the side of the hill, rounded the corner and entered my room, my cave.

“Warm yourself, my brother,” I invited. He came over to my fire in the center of the room, took off his snow covered robe of skins, his hood and dropped his bow. Underneath his robe, the Sentinel had hides covering his legs and a deerskin vest, with rabbit fur around his wrists and ankles above his moccasins. He turned his backside to the fire.

“The wind,” he said, “is getting stronger. I was going to go into my hut to avoid the wind, but I thought I would check on you. It is warmer here than in my drafty hut.”

Over the years, the Sentinels and I had come to know one another. As in village life, some were friendlier than others, but each of them had loosened their grip on my “situation.” I always maintained a respect for them and never took for granted any leniency, nor did I take liberties without some sort of understanding from them.

In return, I shared whatever small measure of comfort or pleasure that I had that they did not – such as my warm cave on a cold, windy day or night. I had also made drawings of them while on watch, or sitting by their fire, or just a drawing of their face which they took home for their families.

I offered the Sentinel some sassafras root to chew.

For my part, the Sentinels were an unexpected break in the solitude of my daily life. Most of the time, they were on the rocky top of my cave, watching the valley for any intruders. During warm weather, I might not see them for several days. But I knew they were there; I could smell their fires or hear their calls to other Sentinels on other hilltops. Their presence was comforting and helped relieve the loneliness of my life.

“I see new hands on your wall, yes?” the Sentinel asked.

”Yes,” I replied.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

I needed to be careful in my answer, as the hand was the handprint of my Son, Third Heron, and I did not want to admit that he had been here in my cave.

“By experimenting, I found a white soft rock which I could mash and grind into a fine powder. Next, I would mix it with water, take it in my mouth—but not swallowing—then blow it over the hand on the wall, producing the white outline of a hand,” I explained.

He moved closer to the seven hands on the wall which ranged from small to a medium-sized man’s hand, the seventh; the Sentinel was examining them carefully, moving left to right, small to large. I did not start doing the hands until Third Heron was two seasons old; as he grows older, there is a noticeable difference in the sizes of his handprint on the cave's wall. I saw the differences; maybe the Sentinel would not. There could be trouble for me if he chose to make it.

The Sentinel turned to look at me. He raised his eyebrows… and then he smiled. “Very nice, and clever, very clever,” he said knowingly. “While I appreciate them, do not expect me to praise you or tell anyone about them. I am not that sort of man.” Again, the smile. He understood that they were not my hands, that someone had been in my cave which was against the rules, but he would not say anything. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, to say “thank you.” We nodded to each other."

Without feelings of respect, what is there to distinguish men from beasts?

~~ Confucius, Chinese Philosopher, 551-479BC

Writing: The Ceremony of One

Chapter two has now grown to 14,000 words -- and it is not over. The Ceremony of One, a wedding scene of 1,000 years ago in what is now middle America, is the scene I just finished writing, but have not edited. For your enjoyment, Dear Reader, I have copied below some of the seven vows sequence that the two principals in this scene -- Young Heron and Lone Bird -- have taken.

Only the birds could be heard, as we began, taking three steps together. We then turned and faced each other; I spoke first. “Before these people, I promise to honor and protect you.”

Lone Bird responded, “Before these people, our friends, I promise to honor and inspire you.”

Walking again thee steps, I turned to speak to Lone Bird. “I promise that we will share the responsibility of our shelter and our food, together.”

Lone Bird responded, “And I promise that we will share the responsibility of our shelter and our food together.

As we made our commitments, the crowd began to whisper sounds of understanding and approval.

We stopped again. I started, “May our life together be long and prosperous, and may the Great Spirit bless us with children. I promise to share the responsibility of educating our children.”

“And, Young Heron,” Lone Bird said loudly with a grin, “should we be so blessed, I promise that I will share the responsibility of children with you.” Lone Bird’s playful response was totally unexpected, and when the crowd heard it, there was a smattering of laughter that grew louder quickly, with most of the laughing sounds and whistles coming from the women in the crowd who approved of Lone Bird’s humor and courage. Lone Bird and I were laughing, as well.

When the crowd sounds diminished, she continued, “And I promise to share the responsibility of educating our children.”

We walked on, in step with each other, stopping a fourth time. Holding her hand, I said ”I promise to be devoted to you, and only you, as my One.”

Taking my other hand, Lone Bird said to me, “And I promise to be devoted to you and only you, as my One.”

Dropping our hands, we walked on side-by-side, then stopped.

“Lone Bird, I promise to be with you through the joys and the sorrows of our time on earth.”

“And, Young Heron, I promise to be with you during our joys and I promise also to be by your side through sorrows.” We walked on.

Stopping a sixth time, I turned to her and pledged, “I want always to fill your heart with happiness and peace.”

Lone Bird looked softly at me and said in a sincere voice, “I promise to fill your heart with happiness and peace, over and over, year after year.” A collective sigh came from the crowd, as we moved on to the last stop.

"The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones." ~~ William Faulkner

Global Warming Report Withdrawn

From the UK newspaper, The Guardian, "Scientists have been forced to withdraw a (2009) study on projected sea level rise due to global warming after finding mistakes that undermined the findings."

This study, by Mark Sidall of the University of Bristol, projected that the Atlantic Ocean would rise as much as 2.7 feet*, by the year 2100 -- all caused by Global Warming. This report supported another report in 2007 by the UN's IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) which also suggested that the Maldive Islands in the Pacific would disappear as well
since the Maldives has an average height above sea level of only 4'11.


Understandably, this report was so alarming to the Maldivan President that he has stated:
"We do not want to leave the Maldives, but we also do not want to be climate refugees living in tents for decades," so the Maldivan Government has begun looking for land (primarily in India) to relocate their citizens, when the catastrophe starts. (Funding for such a purchase of course would come from the countries causing the warming, which was the big flap at the Copenhagen Conference.)
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Criticism of the 2009 report began shortly after it was published in Nature Geoscience, a new but respected magazine. Finally, the report was retracted -- much to the embarrassment of Nature Geoscience -- with a statement as follows:

"One mistake was a miscalculation; the other was not to allow fully for temperature change over the past 2,000 years. Because of these issues we have retracted the paper and will now invest in the further work needed to correct these mistakes."

Now, why aren't we seeing these retractions on Global Warming being reported by Newspapers and Television in our country? Why is it only European papers carry this category of news? I leave that answer to you, Dear Reader.
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* The sea level around the Maldives in 1970 mysteriously dropped 12 inches. Hopefully this was taken into their account as well. Sea level has since raised up to a "normal" level.

~~

There is no significant man-made Global Warming underway and the science
on which the computer projections of weather chaos are based is badly flawed.

~~ John Coleman, Founder of The Weather Channel

Writing: The Ceremony of One -- The Two Doves

Still in Chapter two of my third book, I have begun to detail a wedding ceremony set in the year 1000 between our 18 year old hero, Young Heron, and his 18 year old beauty from another tribe, Lone Bird. At the end of the ceremony, they sit on two tree stumps covered with skins, while the officiant, The Storyteller, recites a poem, as follows:

Two doves meeting in the sky

Two loves hand in hand, eye to eye

Two parts of a loving whole

Two hearts and a single soul

Two stars shining big and bright

Two fires bringing warmth and light

Two songs played in perfect tune

Two flowers growing into bloom

Two Doves gliding in the air

Two loves free without a care

Two parts of a loving whole

Two hearts and a single soul

~~ Author, Unknown

Jobs Saved? A Great Depression averted by the Obama Stimulus?

President Obama and his administration spokespeople -- VP Biden, Gibbs, etc. -- are prone (or instructed) to quote a "Jobs Saved" metric to prove that the stimulus worked. Although the Administration cannot cite the same statistic or number on the matter -- someplace between 1 and 3 million jobs saved by the Administration -- there is no statistical category that proves the number; his assertion cannot be proved.

Please, if there is any economist out there reading this -- can you enlighten me about the statistical category "Jobs Saved," because I can't find it among the minutiae of reporting categories. You would think that some category as important as "Jobs Saved" would be in Bold or CAPS or PURPLE. But, I can't find it. HELP! ME!!

As to the Obama Stimulus package saving the USA from another Great Depression, the President claimed yesterday: "Our work is far from over, but we have rescued this economy from the worst of this crisis," he said, which the Reuters News Service, an apologist for the Obama Administration, characterised his statement as meaning that Obama's Stimulus package averted another Great Depression.

Let's be clear. The Great Depression was caused by a Banking Crisis, brought about by a Stock Market crash and intensified by a protracted Drought in the breadbasket of the US. Unemployment was high at nearly 25%, the circulation of money slowed to a drip and no purchasing power was available.

If anything averted the second Great Depression in our time, it was the TARP funds, created by President Bush aimed at recapitalizing the banking industry. What Obama has done -- demonized Bankers, Wall Street firms, and the CEO's of Industry -- looks like encouraging another Depression, rather than discouraging one.

Of the Stimulus funds -- $800 Billion Dollars -- only $242 Billion has been spent in a year, most of that by giving funds to distressed states like Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Michigan and Caleefornia, as the Governator would say. Those Governors, like our Ed Rendell, will assert that Teachers and Policemen's jobs were saved, because they did not have to be laid off.

Uhhh, excuse me Ed. Why not lay off government bureaucrats first and Teachers, Policemen and Firemen last -- INSTEAD OF FIRST. Have you abandoned your rationality in order to play politics with jobs? Can I hear an "AMEN?"

PREDICTION: As 2010 election time nears, the remaining $500 billion of the Obama Stimulus Fund will suddenly find a fast lane and get placed in states where democrat politicians are in trouble -- Nevada, Arkansas, Indiana, Senator Boxer's district in Caleefornia.

So, what priority will President Obama have demonstrated to us then? That he cares about the American people and those out of work, or that he cares more about getting Harry Reid re-elected? It's our money, Dear Reader; it's our people out of work. If you were in the Oval Office, what would you do?

So, President Obama credits his Stimulus Package from keeping America sinking into the next Great Depression. But... what does America think about the success of his Stimulus Package? Here's a recent poll by the New York Times and CBS News

STIMULUS PACKAGE AND JOBS

Has created jobs 6%
Has not, but will create jobs 41%
Will not create jobs 48 %

CBS NEWS/NEW YORK TIMES POLL
Thursday, February 11th, 2010

Writing: The Confession

Algonquin Fertility Dance, by Theodore de Bry, 1590

My writing has progressed on the Second Chapter of my third book. The seduction of our young, betrothed hero has taken place at the hands of a scheming 30 year old woman -- Raven -- with an important 70 year old husband -- the Chief of Chiefs. Set 1000 years ago among the Hopewell peoples, the same powerful emotions with which we grapple today are present in my novel of that era.

Our 18 year old hero -- Young Heron -- has decided not to confess to the lovely Lone Bird, his chosen; the only person he will tell is, simultaneously, his Father as well as the Chief of his Village:

“Aiyee, Young Heron, my Son. Welcome back from Chi’cotha. Your tally skins from the Fertility Festival have been reviewed and we believe will be a great help as we predict future… resources,” Father stated. Some of the Council began chuckling at the word “resources.”

“What news do you bring from our first Village?” Father asked.

I began in a sad tone, “I am distressed to report that I fear our beloved Storyteller is soon to cross over to the other side of the river. Privately, he confided that he is bleeding from inside and that the bleeding cannot be stopped. He asked for a personal drawing of him that would be turned into a ceremonial pipe and buried with him. He is now as we know him, but he is showing weakness daily.”

“This is unhappy news,” Father agreed, “but death is a fate that awaits us all. Let us hope that each of us will have as important a life as the Storyteller.” The Council murmured sounds of approval.

“Unless there is other business… then this meeting is dismissed,” Father stated in his Chief’s voice; I remained behind as the others left, speaking softly to each other.

“Sentinel, tell those waiting outside that I will be with them in a moment, " Father said as he turned to me. " This is ‘grievance’ day, so I need to wait for my advisor who knows of these complaints and will help me decide; some will be happy and some will not, but that is our way.” Father was a good Chief and took his duties seriously, which made my confession even more difficult.

“Father, I need to speak frankly of a deeply personal matter,” I began, thinking that I could describe the scene leading up to the moment, hoping that Father would look more kindly on my actions, knowing the entire background. But my need to confess overtook me and I blurted out the ending.

“Raven, the Chief of Chief’s One, and I ‘joined’ while in Chi’cotha.” My voice was nervous and hushed; my head was bowed.

“What?” Father exclaimed. “Did you say that you… joined? Do you mean physically… joined?”

“Yes, Father. I wanted you to know, as it may affect your being Chief somehow.”

“Did Raven indicate that my being Chief was threatened by this?” Father asked in a concerned manner.

“No. It is just a worry of mine.”

“Alright.” His Chief’s voice took over as Father controlled his emotions. “Where were you when this happened?”

“In her quarters,” I answered, still nervous.

Chapter two is now 27 pages long using 10,000 words, probably about 45 book pages. It is not over, as there are still three major sections to write in this chapter.