With the thinnest of pretexts, the German Wehrmacht invaded Poland on 1 September 1939. They applied the lessons the "Condor Legion" had learned so well in Spain, fast moving armored vehicles with flying artillery above the battlefield in the form of screaming Stukas lead to advances in mobile warfare that shocked the world. Guernica had burned to prove the theory of strategic bombing, but it would be for the bombardment of Warsaw that the world would stare in horror as tons upon tons of expolosive devestation rained from the skies.
It isn't that one could say they didn't believe the war was coming. The annexation of Austria, the invasion of the Sudetenland, and flagrant violations of the terms of the Treaty of Versailles all pointed at the coming war. Kristallnacht, the Nuremberg rallies and the fateful voyage of the MS St. Louis all spoke of things even darker than war, but for the most part the world had been uninterested in listening.
The Poles would fight valiantly against a superior and overwhelming force. The Blitzkrieg moved quickly and neutralized their resistance, but they did resist, for five weeks. British and French mobilization began and it seemed, briefly, that relief could come for the Poles before they capitulated to the Nazi attack. The death knell came on 17 September, when the Soviet Red Army invaded from the east, a betrayal that the Polish have not forgotten to this day.
It's worth remembering that the Polish Army fought the Germans longer than the Belgians, Dutch, or French before surrendering. The Polish government in exile ruled from London for the next six years, but then suffered another betrayal as the Western Allies sold Poland out to Stalin and the Soviet iron curtain. The Red Army later put to death some 20,000 Polish officers captured during the invasion, erstwhile 'allies' by that point or not. It is not a very proud legacy of the war.
There's another reason to mark 1 September 1939, one often forgotten in the overshadowing start of the world's most devestating war. On this day in history, Adolf Hitler authorized the creation of Action T-4, an experiment to annihilate the undesirables from German society - the criminally insane, the mentally handicapped, and the hopelessly infirm. It was the test ground for techniques later employed in the Final Solution, a trial run of an industry of death that has never, not to this day, been fully accounted for by history.
It recedes from us now, looming in the distance both sharply remembered and strangely forgotten. There were quite a number of movies made on the subject even in the last year, but they still only show part of the truth, aspects approved for a mass audience, delivering the right messages. It was a larger war than we often credit it now, with forgotten heroes and villains we'd rather not know about.
From 1 Sept 1939 to V-E day would be six years of blood and toil, horror and misery. It was a hard won victory with a price that's still visible on the character of the participants. It was also a closer thing than we might believe, there was no inevitable victory, not even with the massive economy of the United States on the side of the winners. And even today the war's last scars still tug at us, the legacy of wounds that still remain 70 years down the road.
It's a day worth remembering, if even for just a moment.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Images
How strange what one picture, seemingly insignificant, can do when viewed unexpectedly. I do not know if a picture is worth a thousan words, if we only fail to grope for the right ones to express what a simple image can convey.
Friday, August 15, 2008
What scares you?
Darkness. Mirrors. Silence. Windows.
Those things which conceal. And reveal.
When you stare out into the darkness, are you really afraid of what the darkness might hide? Or that at some moment, something, somewhere will look back at you? That for a fleeting instance, you will see those baleful orange eyes, pinpricks staring from the inky blackness at...into...you.
The mirror shows us ourselves, but how many times do you glance at a looking-glass from the corner of your eye and see....something that shouldn't be there? Something that can't be there. Something that your rational mind knows isn't there.
Silence confounds and reveals. In deep silence you can hear every twig, every rustle, every creeking board in the hall, every fingernail scraping against the window. Do we want to hear it all? And what about the footfalls behind you? The softsteps of a silent walker creeping up on you even as you read this?
Windows, they let in the light. They let out the light. They are a way of escape, a means of experience, and the way into which every manner of killer crawls. Is there anything more frightening than an open window that you know was shut? And while the window lets in the light, does it also let in the darkness?
Eyes...are the windows to the soul, they say. So into our eyes creeps the darkness. And from our eyes. Every looked into someone eyes and seen a dead stare? Or into the night and seen those eerie green cat eyes looking back? Do you ever wonder if when you look into the mirror, those eyes you see are also looking back at you?
So why do we feel these things? Why do eyes in the dark scare us? Why does the dark itself promise not just fear, or terror, but unmitigable horror? Have we stumbled such a short distance from the savannah that we still huddle around our stick of flame, hoping the great predators will pass us by in the night?
Those things which conceal. And reveal.
When you stare out into the darkness, are you really afraid of what the darkness might hide? Or that at some moment, something, somewhere will look back at you? That for a fleeting instance, you will see those baleful orange eyes, pinpricks staring from the inky blackness at...into...you.
The mirror shows us ourselves, but how many times do you glance at a looking-glass from the corner of your eye and see....something that shouldn't be there? Something that can't be there. Something that your rational mind knows isn't there.
Silence confounds and reveals. In deep silence you can hear every twig, every rustle, every creeking board in the hall, every fingernail scraping against the window. Do we want to hear it all? And what about the footfalls behind you? The softsteps of a silent walker creeping up on you even as you read this?
Windows, they let in the light. They let out the light. They are a way of escape, a means of experience, and the way into which every manner of killer crawls. Is there anything more frightening than an open window that you know was shut? And while the window lets in the light, does it also let in the darkness?
Eyes...are the windows to the soul, they say. So into our eyes creeps the darkness. And from our eyes. Every looked into someone eyes and seen a dead stare? Or into the night and seen those eerie green cat eyes looking back? Do you ever wonder if when you look into the mirror, those eyes you see are also looking back at you?
So why do we feel these things? Why do eyes in the dark scare us? Why does the dark itself promise not just fear, or terror, but unmitigable horror? Have we stumbled such a short distance from the savannah that we still huddle around our stick of flame, hoping the great predators will pass us by in the night?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Power
Some stories make us laugh. Some stories make us cry. Some make us angry. Some make us frustrated. Important stories touch us in some way, evoking emotion in our heart. I've read stories that have had that kind of power before, but none has impacted me in the same way that Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian has. The power in that story to inspire dread, horror, and a sense of utter futility defies description.
I can't even put a finger on how the author accomplishes that power. The story isn't that different from a dozen other westerns, even if it's told in a unique way with a different point of view. Usually, when a book sucks me in, the characters to most of the work: I become emotionally involved because I relate to the people I'm reading about. Not Blood Meridian though, I can't think of characters that could be more alien. I don't feel empathy for them. But the plot still drives into my heart like a spear thrust.
The story is almost hypnotic, drawing you further and further into madness, and at the end, I felt like I was staring the devil in the eyes. It was an uncomfortable feeling. That slow revelation of dread and insanity works well. It isn't so bad at first...and it gets worse...and worse...and then, by the end, I put the book down without comment. I haven't been able to read sense then. It shook me. I still turn it all over in my head, trying to make sense out of what McCarthy was saying with Blood Meridian.
What story was he trying to tell, and what moral lurks in layers of peeled madness? I haven't riddled it out yet. I'm just now beginning to be able to reflect on the how he accomplished that emotional power. I'm not quite ready to understand the why yet.
I can't even put a finger on how the author accomplishes that power. The story isn't that different from a dozen other westerns, even if it's told in a unique way with a different point of view. Usually, when a book sucks me in, the characters to most of the work: I become emotionally involved because I relate to the people I'm reading about. Not Blood Meridian though, I can't think of characters that could be more alien. I don't feel empathy for them. But the plot still drives into my heart like a spear thrust.
The story is almost hypnotic, drawing you further and further into madness, and at the end, I felt like I was staring the devil in the eyes. It was an uncomfortable feeling. That slow revelation of dread and insanity works well. It isn't so bad at first...and it gets worse...and worse...and then, by the end, I put the book down without comment. I haven't been able to read sense then. It shook me. I still turn it all over in my head, trying to make sense out of what McCarthy was saying with Blood Meridian.
What story was he trying to tell, and what moral lurks in layers of peeled madness? I haven't riddled it out yet. I'm just now beginning to be able to reflect on the how he accomplished that emotional power. I'm not quite ready to understand the why yet.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Updates
Yeah, it's been a while; four months, give or take an eternity. I do mean to get back to this, whether anyone is reading or not. It's just taking me some time to get to a point where I can.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
What makes horror?
Our protagonist flees from twisted, corrupted evil spirits that drive him from his home. He is hounded day and night by shadows on the road behind him, and uncertainty on the road ahead. Nor are his friends safe, one is attacked by a malevolent spirit possessing an old, rotten tree. Others are taken into the tombs of the damned, tormented and brought to the very brink of death. When it seems our hero may have escaped the grasp of his pursuers, they strike, and wound him in such a way that he is corrupted, damaged, and slowly, inexorably, becoming like them: a tortured soul enslaved to dark powers.
A horror story? Of course, most readers will recognize the plot summary of the first half of the Fellowship of the Ring, book one in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy. The Nazgul are some of the creepiest, spookiest, and scariest villains in literature, but despite this, they don't push LoTR cross genre into horror. Later, Tolkien's characters will be hounded through a black cavern by a demon, stumble through bogs filled with the faces of the dead, and force an undead army to serve them. And then there's the giant spiders, man-flesh eating orcs, and the soul corrupting ring, but at no point would this novel be considered horror. It doesn't feel like horror or read like horror.
Why not? I don't really know. The overt elements are there, but for some reason, I've never read a fantasy novel that crossed into the horror genre. I think it would be a very interesting read if someone wrote one, and there may be one out there I've missed, but in general, fantasy seems to kill the scary part.
I think it's the needed juxtaposition of the world we recognize with the terrible that is needed to produce horror. Lift a Nazgul up from Middle Earth and drop him in the midst of modern day New York, and I think you have a horror novel. Place the Dead Marshes in South Georgia, or the Paths of the Dead in Colorado, and you have the workings of a scary story.
I'm still thinking on it though. Maybe there's more to it than just that. I'm just not sure.
A horror story? Of course, most readers will recognize the plot summary of the first half of the Fellowship of the Ring, book one in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy. The Nazgul are some of the creepiest, spookiest, and scariest villains in literature, but despite this, they don't push LoTR cross genre into horror. Later, Tolkien's characters will be hounded through a black cavern by a demon, stumble through bogs filled with the faces of the dead, and force an undead army to serve them. And then there's the giant spiders, man-flesh eating orcs, and the soul corrupting ring, but at no point would this novel be considered horror. It doesn't feel like horror or read like horror.
Why not? I don't really know. The overt elements are there, but for some reason, I've never read a fantasy novel that crossed into the horror genre. I think it would be a very interesting read if someone wrote one, and there may be one out there I've missed, but in general, fantasy seems to kill the scary part.
I think it's the needed juxtaposition of the world we recognize with the terrible that is needed to produce horror. Lift a Nazgul up from Middle Earth and drop him in the midst of modern day New York, and I think you have a horror novel. Place the Dead Marshes in South Georgia, or the Paths of the Dead in Colorado, and you have the workings of a scary story.
I'm still thinking on it though. Maybe there's more to it than just that. I'm just not sure.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
The process
After explaining the process of publication, at least as I understand it, for the dozenth time, I decided to write up a short description. That way I can just direct someone here, and say: read.
So you've finished your novel and want the whole world to see it, what do you do first? Edit. Proofread. Edit. Proofread. Then edit some more. Seriously. Go edit now.
Once you're done editing, to publishable satisfaction, you can start looking at the idea of publication. All of the following summarizes the wisdom of many months worth of vicarious understanding, coupled with some actual research, and a tidbit or two of real experience. Of course, bear in mind that IANAPA* so all should be taken with a grain of salt.
1) Option the First: Vanity Publishing. Doubtless a well-meaning family member has recommended that you pay-to-publish based on some ad they saw in a Spam Email. Self-publishing does exactly as it sounds: you pay money, you get a few bound copies of your work. If you've written a family history, or a local interest story, or perhaps a cookbook for friends, then Vanity Publishing is not a problem. You will get what you paid for, decently bound copies of your work. On the other hand, if you've written a novel, and have hopes that someone will read it without it coming as a gift from you on Christmas, then consider against Self-Publication. It won't be listed in industry publications and catologues, bookstores will only order it if YOU convince them to personally, and no one will write a scathing (blessedly free advertisement) review of your book. In short, no one will see it unless you first purchase it and stick it under their nose. On the plus side, no matter how awful your book is, no matter how bad your editing, style, characters, plot, and writing, you're guaranteed to see it in print. Vanity Presses are paid by you to print the book, whatever book you hand them.
2) Option the Second: Co-operative and Print-on-demand. This is a step-up. First, many of these publishers have editorial standards, which is a HUGE leap up. They do occassionally reject books so bad as to not be possibly worth their time. This might make it easier for you to convince a bookstore to carry the title, but that all depends on YOUR connections within the publishing industry. If the head of distribution of Amazon is your brother-in-law, then by all means, this is probably an excellent choice. Likewise if you are a skilled advertisor and marketer willing and able to pitch your work to the communities that may show interest in it. On the whole though, don't expect it to be on the Bestseller lists anytime soon, nor for their to be motion picture studios banging on the door, nor, sadly, for you to ever get a paycheck for your hard work. Certainly, exceptions can and do exist.
3) Sell your work via the Slush File. Don't worry, it's a lot worse than it sounds. You can always try direct submitting your work to for-real publishing houses. I think three of them look at unsolicited, unagented queries. Actually, I made that up. So far, I've found only two that do so, but I'm certain at least one more will, I just haven't found them yet. This way, you will control everything on your side. Once you've submitted, you can rest assured that your work will be read, just as soon as the other 9000 works in the Slush File are read. It's sort of like winning the lottery, only with worse odds, and less pay-off. If your brother's cousin is an assistant editor at a major house, then you will undoubtedly have an inside track. Otherwise, polish your query letters, and prepare to learn humility. Rejection letters build character.
4) Find an agent. Well, finding an agent is as simple as checking PublishersMarketplace or the Association of Artists' Representatives websites. Now, convincing an agent to look at your work...that's a bit trickier. Finding an agent interested in representing you, ah, beyond my experience. I haven't found one yet. However, I'm building character through rejection letters. If you're Tom Clancy is your neighbor, invite him over to a BBQ and bribe him with good food until he agrees to give you an recommendation to HIS agent. If your Great-Uncle Joe writes abusrdly boring narrative history for college textbooks, beg him for a nod to his agent. It sounds desperate, but after a few months of rej...character building, you'll be that desperate. If you live in a large city, or can fly to one with regularity, you may find some success meeting agents or helpful publishing industry types at writers' conventions. Neither of the aforementioned apply to me, so I have no experience in the way of conventions. I'm stuck with the old query letter route. Once you've found an agent, they will (theoretically) use their contacts in the industry to find you a publisher. At the very least, they know who the publishers are. And they know what contracts mean. This is two steps ahead of me, so I'm keen on the whole agent handling the legal side of things idea.
All I need is enough accumulated character via rejection. If anyone is actually reading this Blog, and knows more about The Process than I do, please, feel free to post a correction, addition, or mocking comment.
Happy Thanksgiving to my American family! I miss you all. (Yes, even YOU).
*I Am Not A Published Author
So you've finished your novel and want the whole world to see it, what do you do first? Edit. Proofread. Edit. Proofread. Then edit some more. Seriously. Go edit now.
Once you're done editing, to publishable satisfaction, you can start looking at the idea of publication. All of the following summarizes the wisdom of many months worth of vicarious understanding, coupled with some actual research, and a tidbit or two of real experience. Of course, bear in mind that IANAPA* so all should be taken with a grain of salt.
1) Option the First: Vanity Publishing. Doubtless a well-meaning family member has recommended that you pay-to-publish based on some ad they saw in a Spam Email. Self-publishing does exactly as it sounds: you pay money, you get a few bound copies of your work. If you've written a family history, or a local interest story, or perhaps a cookbook for friends, then Vanity Publishing is not a problem. You will get what you paid for, decently bound copies of your work. On the other hand, if you've written a novel, and have hopes that someone will read it without it coming as a gift from you on Christmas, then consider against Self-Publication. It won't be listed in industry publications and catologues, bookstores will only order it if YOU convince them to personally, and no one will write a scathing (blessedly free advertisement) review of your book. In short, no one will see it unless you first purchase it and stick it under their nose. On the plus side, no matter how awful your book is, no matter how bad your editing, style, characters, plot, and writing, you're guaranteed to see it in print. Vanity Presses are paid by you to print the book, whatever book you hand them.
2) Option the Second: Co-operative and Print-on-demand. This is a step-up. First, many of these publishers have editorial standards, which is a HUGE leap up. They do occassionally reject books so bad as to not be possibly worth their time. This might make it easier for you to convince a bookstore to carry the title, but that all depends on YOUR connections within the publishing industry. If the head of distribution of Amazon is your brother-in-law, then by all means, this is probably an excellent choice. Likewise if you are a skilled advertisor and marketer willing and able to pitch your work to the communities that may show interest in it. On the whole though, don't expect it to be on the Bestseller lists anytime soon, nor for their to be motion picture studios banging on the door, nor, sadly, for you to ever get a paycheck for your hard work. Certainly, exceptions can and do exist.
3) Sell your work via the Slush File. Don't worry, it's a lot worse than it sounds. You can always try direct submitting your work to for-real publishing houses. I think three of them look at unsolicited, unagented queries. Actually, I made that up. So far, I've found only two that do so, but I'm certain at least one more will, I just haven't found them yet. This way, you will control everything on your side. Once you've submitted, you can rest assured that your work will be read, just as soon as the other 9000 works in the Slush File are read. It's sort of like winning the lottery, only with worse odds, and less pay-off. If your brother's cousin is an assistant editor at a major house, then you will undoubtedly have an inside track. Otherwise, polish your query letters, and prepare to learn humility. Rejection letters build character.
4) Find an agent. Well, finding an agent is as simple as checking PublishersMarketplace or the Association of Artists' Representatives websites. Now, convincing an agent to look at your work...that's a bit trickier. Finding an agent interested in representing you, ah, beyond my experience. I haven't found one yet. However, I'm building character through rejection letters. If you're Tom Clancy is your neighbor, invite him over to a BBQ and bribe him with good food until he agrees to give you an recommendation to HIS agent. If your Great-Uncle Joe writes abusrdly boring narrative history for college textbooks, beg him for a nod to his agent. It sounds desperate, but after a few months of rej...character building, you'll be that desperate. If you live in a large city, or can fly to one with regularity, you may find some success meeting agents or helpful publishing industry types at writers' conventions. Neither of the aforementioned apply to me, so I have no experience in the way of conventions. I'm stuck with the old query letter route. Once you've found an agent, they will (theoretically) use their contacts in the industry to find you a publisher. At the very least, they know who the publishers are. And they know what contracts mean. This is two steps ahead of me, so I'm keen on the whole agent handling the legal side of things idea.
All I need is enough accumulated character via rejection. If anyone is actually reading this Blog, and knows more about The Process than I do, please, feel free to post a correction, addition, or mocking comment.
Happy Thanksgiving to my American family! I miss you all. (Yes, even YOU).
*I Am Not A Published Author
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