{A story in development - for writers, every story is in development, until they decide to abandon it... I haven't quite abandoned this one just yet. At the moment, its just a vent for an idea that's still brewing.} “Do me a favour.” It read. She set the paper down. She wasn’t quite ready for it. She turned off the TV, she saw enough of herself in editing. She strode out the kitchen and up the steps, then down the short corridor to one of the two upstairs rooms… her room. Or at least it used to be. She sat down on the bare single mattress, and then started reading again. “Look out the window at the sky. Whether nightly stars, clear blue, or laden clouds… curl your knees to your chest, and keep looking. Now look at yourself. Look at your legs, your hands, your feet… what do you see?” She glanced out the window. Then around the room and at the closed door, as if expecting someone to walk in even though the house was empty. She looked at herself, just as she’d read, running her hands over her legs and feet, then staring at the palms of her hands. “What do you see?” she read it again. “It’s you. Little you in a big world. I did that too you know. I thought to myself: how small I am. How small I am that you’d think of me. We are not giants in this world… although our spirits may be.” “I saw you walking up the lane at the back, outside. I also liked to do that. It’s because of that lane and the field that I bought the house. Even when it’s dry and brown in summer, I still go. There was a fire once, burnt half the hillside. Can’t remember how we put it out… All I remember is that people came out of nowhere to help. When they left, and I was standing on the stoop, sweating, tired, I remember thinking: ‘that wasn’t boring’. “I danced upstairs, alone, with no music, maybe even in your room. I was drinking so I don’t remember what room… probably wasn’t such a good idea – could’ve fallen down the stairs. I remember that I danced because my feet made a loud noise on the wooden floor boards. I always wanted to do it, somehow that time it just felt right. And so I tap danced; I think I was laughing as well, but I don’t know why, it wasn’t a normal laugh. “I write this to explain myself. You were younger, and I could’ve told you then but these things need time to, unravel. We were broken, both of us. I could not allow your mother’s death to intercept or delay your future. This place has taught me, that everything passes. I told you, and I’m sure you noted how small we are. Remember our trips to the beach. Remember how we watched the waves, how we fell asleep. And when we left the tide had claimed our footprints. There we saw, we saw something that has been for many years, centuries, so our visit to that shore was like our visit to this life… In my years I have seen what time does to the human body. I’ve seen how nature will reclaim everything – but we are not our bodies – we are simply driving them – for a short while. So, do not despair, for they are not meant to last. I write this also, to apologise. There is something I need to apologise for, and although I cannot for the life of me put my finger on it, I can sense its presence – that vague guilt of something I did or didn’t do. I am aware of the vacancies within our little tapestry of family life, but as you know, I’ve never been a good seamstress.” She chuckled to herself, remembering a time he’d called the ladder in her stockings ‘steps’. “I love you. I agreed to you leaving so forcefully because I wanted you out of the shadow that this house was in back then. Those are probably the times when people should remain close, but sometimes proximity has little bearing on the emotions. Sometimes you can live with someone, but also just pass them by day by day. It made the time we did spend together that much more precious. Thank you for not questioning my odd ways. I did not plan it this way; I too was once again a student… “I leave this house to you, and everything I own. You are strong woman, and I am a proud father.” She paused before reading the last line. “Be without hindrance.” She looked at the paper in her hands. Then she thought of that time when she looked at the house as they drove away, watching it grow smaller through the car window. She thought of the sum of material things which constituted her ‘life’, piled into that car. She thought of the goodbye with her father. Holding him, pressing the side of her face against his chest, her eyes closed, his hand on her head. She could not remember breaking the hug… in her memory, it never ended, even though she remembered him driving away in the old car, waving, and then looking at her in the rear view mirror. That picture of him through the back windscreen sat in her memory, just the back of his head over the headrest, through the window. She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her head on her knees, she closed her eyes. It wasn’t long after when she lay down, pulling a blanket over her. The house had always felt big, too big for the just the three of them, or the two of them... It didn’t feel that way now. The single bed upon which she lay, felt small and cramped. It had been years since she’d heard the creak of these bed springs. Her father seemed to see this place as a kind of unwanted anchor for her, a place that would hold her back. But lying there, with her eyes closed, she felt tethered for the first time in years. And it was a good feeling. He would've wanted her to sell it, but for her, this was her one secret place, one she needed, considering all her days chasing the truth. She took comfort in knowing that she knew how to hide from time to time. They say the truth will set you free, but for her, all the truth the world offered - she needed this escape, this truth. This was real. it may be a largely empty house, but her memories were not. [picture credits: digitalcameraworld.com-Gianluca Bennati, aso-geopark.jp, prettylittlenest.com]
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Let’s look at this book – for that is what it is, a book. What separates it from all others though, is that it unashamedly claims to be the Word of God. That is, a message, or messages from the one who created everything in the Universe has found its way to its pages… this ‘claim’ alone, whether you believe it or not, is one of the central reasons why it is the world’s bestselling book, and has been for generations. Plot Synopsis The Story starts with all creation and the creation of Man, and then after that, God created Woman. It then progresses to the fall of man (with the intervention of Satan and the realization of Good and Evil), who chooses himself over his creator, severing that bond and welcoming sin, and death, into the world. His descendants then strive to rule the world and each other. But the story continues, focusing on an array of people and their unique walk/lives and relationship with God. God though (the creator of it all), is angered by his creation’s choice of disobedience, and the subsequent slavery to sin and death. Despite that, God still loves the world, so much so he sends his only son. The plan is to reunite his people to himself and break the bondage that sin has over his people. Enter Jesus (A coming which was prophesized). The son of God would then be beaten, tortured and crucified, killed… a man, who was without sin, who was pure, would carry the weight of sin on himself. An ordinary man, who was born in Heaven, would form the crux of existence, as his death and subsequent resurrection would break the hold that sin has over this world, forming a spiritual gateway to reunite Man with his creator. Target You. It’s for every man, woman and child walking this earth. Another reason it’s a bestseller – because it has such wide appeal. Bottom Line “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son…” – you’ve heard that line countless times that it’s almost become a religious cliché. What’s really at the centre of it though, is the coming together of two different worlds – a material one, and a spiritual one. In the Beginning (another cliché) these two worlds were very close (God and Man had open conversations, the world was a beautiful Eden), but then came the fall, and the separation. Ever since, God has tried to find a way back for us, as we in turn have tried to find the answers to the existential questions we have about ourselves. As the bible says, Man was never intended to have to deal with death, sin was never part of creation, women were never meant to experience pain in childbirth… every pain we endure is thus simply echoes of the pain felt in that fateful moment when man disobeyed God (*** The First physical wound experienced in the Bible is by Adam, when God removes his rib to form Eve - yet there's no record of pain being felt, and the healing was instantaneous - because God did the healing himself***). Hence the two worlds have separated – the material world held ransom to sin and slavery (ruled by Satan), and God’s quest to free Man… and aid him in the realization that he is not of this world, to reawaken his spiritual existence. In a stunning move (call it the checkmate move) God sacrificed his only beloved son. (when Jesus is hanging on the cross he screams “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” – this marks the first time the son addresses his father as ‘God’, indicative of the separation. God turned his back on his son for that moment, so that we (mankind) may be reconciled with our spiritual father). But Satan has no hold over Jesus (heaven’s own), and a material death of his fleshly body does not (cannot) hold. As a book, this is a fantastic story, when you think of it in a finite sense, with authors and writers that compose stories, books, bestsellers etc.one has to wonder, who could conceive this story, who came up with such a work, with such daring portrayals and claims. Well, it wasn’t one man or woman, it was many (over 40 authors – there were incomplete gospels that weren’t included, as well as number of anonymous authors), and it was written and compiled over a period of over 1500 years. It truly is a special book – I almost said ‘one of a kind’ but then my thoughts turned to the Torah (focussing on the narrative of the Jewish people) and Quran (the central religious text of Islam and greatest piece of literature in the Arabic language) … the fact that these three books/manuscripts/compilations are so similar is a staggering thought. Are they plagiarized – copies of one another just taken with different meanings and interpretations, and emphasis on different events? What’s certain is that they have far more similarities than differences. (The one glaring difference is the regard or emphasis placed on the life of Jesus – he is central to the Bible, but a bit-part player, almost cameo in the other two by comparison). But back to the Bible (which doesn’t have one spelling error in any copy I’ve seen) – since I don’t speak Hebrew/Aramaic or Arabic unfortunately – it must be said that it warrants a read simply because of the questions it poses of oneself (whether you’re willing to accept the answers it offers, is up to you.) The fact that it can be used as a daily devotional guide and life study book is also indicative of its influence and power – and it’s hard to argue against the fact that this book has power – even if its just in a material sense. (My grandmother, a woman well into her 80’s still faithfully attends weekly Bible study – this just exemplifies the fact that it has a lasting impression and that it does offer practically an unending fount of deep information. One could study this book your entire life, read it multiple times, and still find new meaning in it, daily – in fact, some say that performing this act will lead you to a better life, by applying something simple like the 10 Commandments to your life, and meditating on scripture. These practices have proven to have a profound effect on the individual and those around them. Truth be told it’s hard to write a book review on the bible because it is so vast and even prophesizes/predicts events yet to come (and lets not forget to mention that this book has proven quite reliable in that approximately 80% of the prophesies foretold in the Bible, have been fulfilled - to the letter - whilst the remaining prophesies reach further into our future!), but for an individual, if you’ve read this book, whether from beginning to end, or just jumping in in the middle somewhere (another unique feature), it might benefit you to review what you’ve read, as you would any other book. There are of course boring bits – this book does of course cover life, and the lives of many people, even some mundane bits, but that’s also part of the beauty, because it translates to everyone, to everyday life. In the Bible you’ll find beggars, Kings, prostitutes, fishermen, taxmen, farmers, murderers, doctors, philosophers, Angels, talking animals, carpenters, scholars, prophets, Demons, soldiers… people from every walk of life… many people, many generations, the creation of the world, and even a message of unconditional and undeserving Love. So, whether you believe that all these people were indeed onto something or that it’s just a collection of wild, outrageous and sometimes brutal stories collected and compiled over centuries (who or what drove so many people to write about this with such conviction, to be translated into so many languages and in varying versions et al.), you cannot deny it truly is fully worth its status as the world’s bestselling book, and why it's often referred to as the “Holy Bible” – the only book in the world claiming to be the actual ‘Word of God’. This is not a book about religion, its a book about reclaiming and restoring a lost Love; sacrificing everything and going to war for your true love. It may not look it, but war and love are on two sides of the same coin in this book, as they are in most books. Its a fight, a war for your heart... the message is, God wants you back, in his embrace. Humanity is often referred to as the 'bride of Christ', destined to join him in heaven; so the story effectively is about a man who sacrifices himself (appears as payment/exchange/ransom) to set free his captive, yet unfaithful love from the shackles of death. (There is no conceivable rating for such a book – it kind sets the standard) Question: if it indeed be true, if this is in fact the Word of God... what then, at the very least it should not be ignored. And, if this book is a work of fiction, then it is a fantastic piece, but since all art (since fiction is art) imitates life, what does this book say about reality? Mark Twain (notable fiction writer/author) said Truth is stranger than fiction, well for those who believe this to be a work of fiction... then I shudder to think of what truth lay as seed of inspiration for this work. Either way, plenty of food for many a deep thought! Tiny robots unlocking human physical potential Can Nanobots bring about immortality? - that's what scientists are looking to answer, or what many people are curios about. Far-fetched? Probably, but it yet again demonstrates a case of Science Fiction finding its way to reality, today. I've blogged about the existence of Skynet, well here's a look at how machines could influence our lives in a very personal, intimate and implicit way, by infiltrating our bodies, and the best part,we'll let them, in fact, some will be desperate for some techno infusion. The thing is though, regardless of whether there's any credence to this theory that nanobots hold the key to immortality, an obvious issue is that in a Capitalist world, only the rich will ever have access to the medical benefits of this technology. The 'Spiderbot': "... recently featured in the science journal Nature. These microscopic robots are made out of DNA... Personally I'm skeptical about the "10 000 times smaller than human hair diameter", but I don't doubt their existence - in some form or other (seems an exaggeration though, then again truth is stranger than fiction! And, realistically these microscopic machines need to be miniscule to operate effectively)... But what exactly can Nanobots do, or what can we expect from them? Here's a short bullet list of the roles these little marvels can be expected to perform in the human body:
Needless to say that with these things swimming through your system - even carrying medication to your brain, the possibilities grow exponentially when you go into the details... and that is where this immortality fascination has been fueled, because these robots effectively act as a secondary (or new primary) immune system, making living longer the realistic pay-off. Although, it is believed that Nanobots are merely to be used as a form of treatment and medication, thus they will NOT remain in the patient indefinitely. Along with their primary purposes, these machines are also designed with different specs, equipped with navigation technology (to guide it out of your system) and a few propulsion methods - they could be self propelled using artificial intelligence, or 'driven' by a remote external source, controlled by a qualified doctor/technician/pilot. Regardless of whether you believe in immortality or not - why would one want to live forever anyway... this may seem cynical but, part of the beauty of this life is the fleeting nature of it, which happens to (or should) help us appreciate it even more. I for one believe there is a time limit to our lives, and that even with the aid of Nanobots adding decades more to your life, that person may well still plop down, dead, for some inexplicable reason. In Biblical times it was known that humans lived for much longer than in today's world, but that had as much to do with the conditions and the general health of society - what they ate and the way they lived. I think we can all agree that today, in a time of GM foods and pill dispensers, that we are not a physically healthy society; add to that anxiety, stress and a lack of exercise to a materialistic lifestyle, and you end up with humans looking desperately for any means to prolong an inherently ill-rooted life. This then is an innovative, complicated (in design and conception, and for now, by all accounts, implementation), expensive and in some ways scary solution (or alternative) to a widespread self-made messy problem/s. We're still early in the development of these things, so it'll be a while before they're fully in the public domain, but it does provide some necessary food for thought and debate. This piece may have an undercurrent of negativism, due mainly to humanities' exploitation of innovations, but there is a very legitimate and positive vision behind Nanobots, in a bid to cure Cancer and combat all sorts of illnesses, but as always I'm biased to natural products and methods,I'm even partial to stem cell research - using our own cells to target affected areas. Perhaps Nanobots is a topic best left for the next generation, or when I'm much older, and the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks... Your Thoughts? Some interesting links to browse through: 10 ways technology could destroy the world 10 reasons why Tesla is a scientific god This is an official announcement that my book (formerly known as 'The Quiet Days') has since been renamed "Peacekeeper". It took me a while to make the decision, but slowly the new one won me over. I've also decided to name the sequel The Quiet Days, it feels only right that I do, whilst a possible prequel will be named 'The Dark Days'. There is a deeper relevance to these names of course and not just a morbid fascination with "Days", or the days of our lives Lol. For a brief Synopsis, keep reading... (its still the same book, albeit on the cusp of the 4th draft with some back end rewrites.) 'Peacekeeper' blurb: There are always so many questions; some remaining forever unanswered, and those with answers few are willing to face. For Michael, that’s hardly the beginning. In Israel investigating a terrorist threat, during a ceasefire after Operation Cast Lead on Gaza and the West Bank, he faces the questions that most are afraid of. An experienced former soldier, now trained in the art of conflict resolution, he discovers his true place, once again learning the art of survival, even when there’s no escaping a bullet. On borrowed time, in the shadow of Interpol and the UN, through blood and dirt, his greatest enemy in the fight to maintain peace, remains the man in the mirror, taunting him with that one fateful question: how much difference can one good man really make? "For whose cause, if not your own, are you willing to die?" Peacekeeper poem: (this appears at the very beginning of the book, it's also the one and only poem I've written in some years, and I continue to tinker with it...) … a faint whisper stirs, within, growing, piercing the inner walls; Another I, revealing …the fear, of the quiet days, the dark days when I’m dead but still living. My spent blood runs slow, my trembling hands, my frozen eyes in these cold, peaceful times. That fear of the slight of me . . . the far away man in the mirror, dark of the deep of the still waters in those eyes . . . my quiet days, creeping, nearer… [I may write a part 2 of this poem that may/will appear at the end of my book...] "You don’t expect to be shot during a ceasefire, or to see a peacekeeper break protocol, but anything goes in the pursuit to maintain the status quo, even if that means sacrificing a good man." - “The reward of sin is death.” That’s hard. If we say that we have no sin, We deceive ourselves, and there’s no truth in us.”... – Doctor Faustus, Goethe’s Faust. - If you like what you see, please feel free to rate it below, but if you have some constructive criticism or words of support then leave your comments - I always appreciate the feedback. Writing is of course a largely solitary profession and even just feeding some breadcrumbs for readers can elicit some angst on my part. I just hope you're as excited as I am, it's going to be big. Many Blessings Ciao Mark Twain, AKA Samuel Langhorne Clemens (1835 - 1910), as Publisher's Weekly once noted: "this manic, profound, daft and provocative mad genius of American culture." Author of the so-called, 'Great American novel': Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (and the one he wrote before that, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer). Hence, he's often called the 'great American novelist'. With that intro, plus the fact that his works and philosophies are enjoying a resurgence in modern literature and even political commentary, it's no stretch to think he'd have tips and relevant opinions on writing itself. Here then is his 18 tips on writing, followed by a short story which I thought appropriate for the sake of this blog - and my writing career. "To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence." - - Twain Mark Twain's Rules for Writing 1. A tale shall accomplish something and arrive somewhere. 2. The episodes of a tale shall be necessary parts of the tale, and shall help develop it. 3. The personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others. 4. The personages in a tale, both dead and alive, shall exhibit a sufficient excuse for being there. 5. When the personages of a tale deal in conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circumstances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable purpose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood of the subject in hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything more to say. 6. When the author describes the character of a personage in his tale, the conduct and conversation of that personage shall justify said description. 7. When a personage talks like an illustrated, gilt-edged, tree-calf, hand-tooled, seven-dollar Friendship's Offering in the beginning of a paragraph, he shall not talk like a Negro minstrel at the end of it. 8. Crass stupidities shall not be played upon the reader by either the author or the people in the tale. 9. The personages of a tale shall confine themselves to possibilities and let miracles alone; or, if they venture a miracle, the author must so plausibly set it forth as to make it look possible and reasonable. 10. The author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and their fate; and that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones. 11. The characters in tale be so clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will do in a given emergency. An author should 12. _Say_ what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it. 13. Use the right word, not its second cousin. 14. Eschew surplusage. 15. Not omit necessary details. 16. Avoid slovenliness of form. 17. Use good grammar. 18. Employ a simple, straightforward style. "The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." My debut As a Literary Person Short Story by Mark Twain In those early days I had already published one little thing ('The Jumping Frog') in an Eastern paper, but I did not consider that that counted. In my view, a person who published things in a mere newspaper could not properly claim recognition as a Literary Person: he must rise away above that; he must appear in a magazine. He would then be a Literary Person; also, he would be famous--right away. These two ambitions were strong upon me. This was in 1866. I prepared my contribution, and then looked around for the best magazine to go up to glory in. I selected the most important one in New York. The contribution was accepted. I signed it 'MARK TWAIN;' for that name had some currency on the Pacific coast, and it was my idea to spread it all over the world, now, at this one jump. The article appeared in the December number, and I sat up a month waiting for the January number; for that one would contain the year's list of contributors, my name would be in it, and I should be famous and could give the banquet I was meditating. I did not give the banquet. I had not written the 'MARK TWAIN' distinctly; it was a fresh name to Eastern printers, and they put it 'Mike Swain' or 'MacSwain,' I do not remember which. At any rate, I was not celebrated and I did not give the banquet. I was a Literary Person, but that was all--a buried one; buried alive. My article was about the burning of the clipper-ship 'Hornet' on the line, May 3, 1866. There were thirty-one men on board at the time, and I was in Honolulu when the fifteen lean and ghostly survivors arrived there after a voyage of forty-three days in an open boat, through the blazing tropics, on ten days' rations of food. A very remarkable trip; but it was conducted by a captain who was a remarkable man, otherwise there would have been no survivors. He was a New Englander of the best sea-going stock of the old capable times--Captain Josiah Mitchell. For the full story, click HERE "Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it." When he died, American newspapers declared (typically arrogant, though somewhat retrospectively prophetic) "The whole world is mourning", The following quote is perhaps his most famous... "Truth is stranger than Fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't." To the day – the 12th of September 1963 – John Le Carré’s "The Spy who came in from the cold" hit bookstore shelves. To celebrate, I decided to finally get round to reading it. It’s been labelled many things, including ‘the definitive spy story’ or ‘the best spy story ever written’, and in many ways forms as the signature John Le Carré novel. It took me a few years and two attempts to get around to reading it, but then again my first attempt was hampered by my own impatience. Older and wiser, I've finally taken the vaunted steps into this dark world. Plot Synopsis In the height of the Cold War,and the shadows of the iron curtain, the British Intelligence hatch a plan to entrap a high level German officer. The plan though, involves a Trojan-horse like operation that may result in them knowingly sending one of their own agents to his death. Target When I first attempted to read this I was still a teenager, and couldn’t get to grips with the initial pacing. So the target is a more mature reader. But you grow accustomed to the pace as well as the style of the narrative – as certain things occur in an atypical timeline, learning of conversations and events that have already happened, to punctuate and better explain events in the present. Once you’re in the groove though, the pages will turn quite swiftly. “... I chose le Carré. God alone knows why, or where I had it from.” Bottom Line Painted by the dull colours of his time in the service, David John Moore Cornwell – pen name John Le Carré – had to forcibly retire from British Intelligence (MI5/MI6) in the 60’s because of the success of “Spy”. British tabloids somehow got hold of his true identity and the rest is history. Most of the great authors of the era tend to have some inside knowledge of the game (Robert Ludlum had his sources and friends within the CIA, Frederick Forsyth used his journalistic research skills for ‘The Day of the Jackal’), so the gritty and cold realism of his third novel seemed too good to be true in many respects. True enough, the world had never seen a book like it. It was, and still is the antitheses of the Spy novel we’re used to; namely the glossy, quirky, action packed and romanticized 007 archetypes. There are no gadgets or posh locations here, its all stark and in shadows, or alternatively, cold blinding and all exposing light. What struck me was the way Cornwell describes characters and makes the ‘grey area’ of the spy world so apparent. Seldom do you find a villain so grating and sinister simply by the nature of the description of the character’s physical appearance. The antihero is a man you wouldn’t ordinarily like… and that is essential to the tormented beauty of this story – it’s simply about people, who happen to find themselves on opposing sides of a wall. They may of course have different values, opinions and beliefs, but when you disregard the dividing lines, it’s hard, or impossible to tell them apart and decipher the good from the bad. Of course the pace does quicken, but it's more of a tightening, and the tension in the climatic scenes is unparalleled. If you enjoy this genre, then of course it goes without saying that this is a must read, a ‘must own’ even. It is a cold hard hammer of a spy story. Sometimes we do a thing in order to find out the reason for it. Sometimes our actions are questions not answers. Plainly put, there are two sides to every story, or genre… in the spy world, there’s the two polar opposites as mentioned above, and then there’s everything in between. It speaks volumes that in modern culture producers, filmmakers and storytellers have seemingly sought to find the balance or blend between the two worlds of espionage. Even Timothy Dalton aimed to dirty things up with a darker and grittier James Bond in his 1980’s incarnation, a dynamic that has been taken to heart in the latest Daniel Craig version, all to keep up with the times, with a wiser audience to cater for. David Cornwell set a trend, and continued it with his subsequent George Smiley novels, and that is a hallmark. It may not have been Cornwell’s first release, but this was the one that got him noticed in a big way, it was the one that made him… Film: The Spy who came in from the Cold was adapted for film starring Richard Burton as the fatigued and burnt out Alec Leamus and Rupert Davies as George Smiley. In 2011 we saw the release of “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy” with Gary Oldman playing Smiley. David Cornwell’s sons have been spearheading the new wave of film adaptations with "A Most Wanted Man" to be released later this year (based on the Le Carré novel of the same name) starring Phillip Seymour Hoffman. The timing of the latter release earmarks it for award season attention. The trailer – Coming Soon! There's also a sequel to Tinker Tailor in the pipeline. The films have also rekindled the interest as book sales have spiked, with new and younger audiences drawn in to rediscover a literary legend and his collection of genre defining works. The 23rd and latest John Le Carre novel: 'A Delicate Truth'; view the Book trailer below. This of course all this, stories, novels and films, tell of a very amoral world, where men and women hold themselves to higher or simply a standard removed from everyone else, a world constantly aware of the puppet strings, the walking wounded – it is cold and dark and unromantic, yet for the larger population it intrigues us to no end… suffice is to say, we’d rather read about, and watch it on the silver screen than actually live it. But, for those who do, us novelists (me in my infancy as it is - I do aim to emulate the greats - and this is timely inspiration) try to tell their stories, amplify their voice in whichever way we can, and to take a line form the book, (because sometimes that voice is hard to hear, the message either plainly simple or incoherently convoluted in the grey stage of world politics and economics, and war) “Once she had cried out, and there had been no echo, nothing. Just the memory of her own voice.” Visit Author John Le Carré's official site at www.johnlecarre.com For an in depth interview to get a deeper sense of Cornwell the man, his personal life and what he’s up now in all his 81 year old glory, follow the link to an interview conducted by Dwight Garner for the New York Times earlier this year. We get to hear his thoughts on the modern Spy world as well as his sentiments about modern media and politics, even his views on the film Zero Dark Thirty. Article: John le Carré Has Not Mellowed With Age "A desk is a dangerous place from which to watch the world" So, again, this is a little abstract for me.. it was quite interesting dredging this story up to see how the years have treated it, and I must say I'm both intrigued and a little befuddled by my own work (which I'll take as a good thing). Here's part 2 of * Corner of fourth and main (Cont.)... Short Story by Steven Benjamin (2004) I focussed on her, her eyes. Taking a step closer; our moment of eye contact, observed in two minutes, as the world fell silent. If that world could see her eyes, peace would reign. She looked right through me, as if inadvertently mending my future – injecting hope. Her passive stance, yet lucid, compassionate eyes. ‘Why me?’ I wondered as trepidation crept up my spine. Fear, as her gaze consumed me. She gave of her life, to somehow compensate for the lack in mine. Hitherto, I was at the pinnacle of my life – my wife told me: she hoped our child would take after me, especially my passion for success. I was a warrior – the courtroom was my battlefield. The agency had abducted me, robbing me of my sanity, accusing me of betrayal, threatening my family. Two days in an interrogation room… felt like two weeks in a torture chamber. I had no information to give, I was innocent. Awakening, intense light blinding me; it was a hospital room. I emerged from it, my body aching, the noise deafening. I was told to visit the morgue, to certify that my wife and unborn child were dead. The world turned vertical. The pain signalling that I’d collapsed and hit the floor – darkness. Standing at the corner once again, the street empty. She was an adversary of the agency, whom I had worked for, thus I blamed her, God, the law, everyone, for taking my life. The discernment came when this woman unconsciously injected her purity of life into mine. God wasn’t the enemy, or the law. The agency whom I’d been a part of, had erased myself worth. The foe I fought was I, my mind. I was the common denominator, the origin of my own life’s destruction. Self combustion. Walking down the empty street, away from my infamous corner, I accepted that I had to share my world with her. This connection, would progressively emerge as a new paradise for our souls. Meeting her at the end of the block, her smile could make evil men repent. We embraced as mankind reappeared around us. Observing the street now, I realised we were standing on the corner of fourth and main – again… -->> It's the abstract nature of this story that gets to me the most, using an almost poetic narrative to tell the tale which is somewhat illusive. I believe the core storyline was something very basic, but the trauma of events lent something of an intangible quality to the story, leaving you and me wondering; how much of what the protagonist says, actually happened...? NOTE: *** I will be on the road (as in road-tripping) and/or in a different (neighboring) country during the next few weeks, thus don't expect any updates for a little while... God Bless! Stay cool, Stay Calm and Read On. If I do post in the coming weeks,it will probably be pictures from my travels, but I won't make any promises. ***
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[Banner illustration by Joel Kanar]
WRITING
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