With Eyes of Appreciation

 

7:15 am.

Downtown St. Louis.

Outside my company's new building. The arch only a couple blocks away.

I enter the city feeling a bit bedraggled, after a very early morning flight, arriving with the dawn to the city I visit each year for a corporate event of gatherings. I could have been groggy and slightly irritable at the inconvenience of a super early wake up of 2:45 am, lack of a breakfast and good coffee, and spending a few hours 38,000 feet above the land on a dark plane journey sitting next to strangers when I could have been in bed. 

But, instead, I am very grateful. My eyes are wide open, fully awake. I find myself marveling. Despite the personal inconveniences of travel, I don't see it as a negative thing. Part of the joy of travel is the adaptation to the surroundings and observations of the scenes. Part of the journey I don't mind too much is the ride - whether it be by train or plane. I get out my book and read the hours away. I look up to view what's going by the windows. I appreciate what is set before me.

And upon arrival after a journey, I sigh a prayer of thanks with a sense of coming to a safe place. Perhaps a place where I know a few people. In this case, a work event, knowing many people (and also not knowing many people). My routine is off its course, my social skills (or lack thereof) kick in. I find myself thrown into a place where I am stretched as an introvert. I know it is good for me, though. I get to meet or catch-up with some very nice people. I get to go up to the 17th floor and take a peak at the office spaces and all the accompanying views of the city, which I personally love to experience in any city. Going to a tall point is one of my favourite things to do in a city, to get to see the outline and expanse. To be able to place the space in a context from above helps me feel more grounded in a wonderfully paradoxical way.

The days speed by in a blur, somehow feeling like multiple days squeezed into each one. Somehow overflowing and full, I wonder how the seams of the day aren't bursting. Travel, whether for work or holiday, sets time to a different pace. It may not be a pace set by yourself, but by others. This might be an uncomfortable feeling, and you can either choose to let go of your own agenda and enjoy that momentary scene before you, or feel trapped in a scene you cannot escape, set upon you by others. It's all about your choice in that view. I have come to St. Louis every year (at least once a year) for the last nine years and I think I see it with eyes of appreciation better and better each time.

Sneak Peak - Selador: Forbidden Realms

 

COMING SOON! Okay, I have been holding off long enough. The third book of Selador is written! Currently editing and reviewing the hard copy proof, and I am just too excited to hold it close to myself any longer. I wanted to share a small tidbit passage for you, if you read the first two books (Selador: The Book of Time and Selador: The Secret Paths) you might be interested in continuing the story in my third book - Selador: Forbidden Realms.

By the way, the first two books are available on Amazon, and they were on sale when I last checked!
Click Here for The Book of Time

Click Here for The Secret Paths

Writing this third book has been a totally enjoyable immersive experience for me, so full of intrigue and mystery, in which I have been able to explore a variety of long overdue playing with the imaginative creation. It invokes the richness of what J.R.R. Tolkien liked so much about the words "cellar door", or "selador" in that it opens up your imagination to other worlds. It was a doorway to another place, but you didn't quite know where. That's exactly what this book does. You will see when you read it. I will be sure to post the release date soon. But in case you cannot wait, here is a little preview:

A preview chapter from - Selador: Forbidden Realms

Something in the air felt different. Stepping out onto her balcony wrapped in a shawl on an early morning before sunrise, Nella got the sense that the realm was waking up to something new. Buds were emerging with a fresh-toned green popping up as birds chirped a cheery tune. She caught glimpses of the tiny birds as they fluttered to and fro on their morning chores which ranged from branch to branch. The shift of the seasons was among them, as winter gave way to spring, a little more each day the re-awakening of nature was pushing through the frozen sleep of winter.

Nella took a deep breath and sweet scents of growth and earth reached her nose and filled her with delightful notions of running through a field of flowers, which she had never done, of course. But one can dream, and the beginning of spring awakened an essence of a dream in her. Beauty was emerging from the seeming deadness of branches, reminding her that deep roots are not touched by the frost, as the fire of spring awakens them, and they know it is time to grow.

A glimpse of blooms from a tree nearby caught her eye. Pink had burst forth overnight creating a visual representation of the coming season. It was still quite cold, though, and she was grateful for her warm shawl.

She was up earlier than usual as she could not sleep. Her thinking came best in the mornings anyway, and after an hour or so at her desk writing, she came out to the balcony to get a pre-dawn refreshment from nature. 

Being high up in the trees, the sun rose early, so it was cresting now on the horizon casting warm rays of glowing light scattered across the forest. That morning dawn was so welcoming to Nella, as it awakened everyone in the realm with the same light.

Many days had gone by since she lost her father to the portalis, a doorway leading (as many believed) into another unknown realm. Was it only days ago? It almost felt like months to her. Her days have been consumed by trying to figure out how to get him back, but she was having trouble finding much information in the history books. Granted, she had a lot of books to go through (a few hundred or so) and she had occasional help from Master Nolan, but it was a bit like trying to sort through an ocean of words to find a piece of eligible seaweed. 

The problem with history books is that they may not hold fully accurate information, depending on who was writing, so it really needed to be discovered in the previous Books of Time as well. If that aligns with what is written in the history book, then there is a good chance it would be accurate to work off.

After several late evenings at the library buried in research Nella almost felt tempted to just follow her father into the portalis to try to get to him, to make sure he is okay and to ask all the questions she didn’t get to ask yet, but she knew it would be fruitless and thoughtless. The problem of getting back through a one-way doorway needed to be solved from here. 

Nella’s mother was due to bring her father’s papers and journals to her that day at the library. She could not wait to dive into her father’s handwritten notes and findings. There, she knew she had a great chance of finding a clue.

As to the village itself, things began to go back to a quasi-normal after the attack on the village and a day of mourning, but then a couple days of clean-up and assisting those who had losses turned into a longer task. 

Not everything could be done so quickly. Repairs were being done in some areas whilst many more waited for attention, but losses of villagers would not be so easily repaired. Master Louver and Lady Cora were mostly attending to the people and the safety of the village, overseeing those things were being taken care of in the aftermath of the attack. 

Nella’s mother Edith was also involved with the restoration and oversight, which is why she had barely seen Nella nor been able to give her Soren’s papers yet. She had many keen ideas for better gates and protective measures for the village to implement. Nella had offered to assist with the projects as well, but Master Louver dismissed her, telling her to work in her research instead. There were plenty of others available who were craftsmen to re-build and those with prior knowledge like her mother who could help with making improvements. 

Rather than feeling dismissed Nella was relieved, as her specialty was not in building or restoring projects, but by writing by hand the changes needed. Some changes were discussed and asked of her, which Nella implemented in The Book of Time as requested by Master Louver.

While Master Nolan was pulled in many directions across the village, he was spending very little time in the library researching with Nella. He would set aside time in the morning to drop in whilst Nella was digging into the pages, but he was always called away a short time later, which lasted until late into the evening. Nella knew this would slow down eventually, but she feared that his duties to the village would be so much that his collaboration time forever limited. 

She said nothing, though. She knew that he was too kind to say no to the village needs, which on the whole, were probably far greater than her own.

So she tucked herself away with a path of convoluted historical entries when she could find them, and the subsequent trial to find any pairing in the Books of Time. She felt fully contented in the work, for as she dug, she was learning more about the ways of past Ages from a historical viewpoint as well as the corresponding entries. She hoped that some of this information would store itself in her memory and she could pull from it in the future. 

Things were very different in past Ages. As she began her journey into the writings, she noticed there to be a focus on the development of knowing what was beyond the realm and exploring that whole concept, hence the portalis usage, which clearly became misused. But before that, there were schools of students who studied space and time, and the mysterious elements that connect living things. What happened to that? Why was it no longer even talked about?

Most of the information was from the First Age, which is the time period when she knew the portalis was used often and taught in schools according to the histories. This is where she felt she would find information she needed to break the dormant elements of their current days. The suppression of using the magical elements of the portalis and The Book of Time became evident in the Second Age. 

Was she the first to break its dormancy, in the creation of a portalis? If so, she knew her knowledge at this time of how they worked was so limited, and that needed to change. She knew they were one-way doorways, but where did they lead? Was she just the vessel by which their realm could be linked to somewhere else?

Nearby rustling branches indicated birds were close by and their chirps confirmed it. Bright leaves reflecting the new sunlight brought her back to her balcony as she felt suddenly that more was going to change than she even knew, and she was not sure she was ready for all of it.

Browsing the Books as the Rain Falls

 

It was perfectly timed. On a day out of town an essential stop was, naturally, a bookstore (Barnes & Noble in this case). The clouds were massive grey buildings in the sky as we entered the bookstore, and here we are in the depths of summer, so it's likely that means a storm is about to crack open, but who can say when the sky will open and for how long? It is kind of a guessing game.

Maybe ten minutes after entering the bookstore the rumbles were overhead with lightning flashing through the windows and heavy rain pounding the pavement and cars parked outside. The sudden roar of the storm outside brought an element of comfort being inside and away from the stormy nature. And we had a whole bookstore to explore - as I said, perfect timing. The atmosphere of delight grew with a storm outside and books inside. It isn't too often that I visit a big bookstore and spend a good hour or more browsing so it was a treat. 

Isn't it interesting how we react to strong weather particularly? Weather in the form of storms might raise fear and trepidation to some, but others may feel a sense of intrigue and mystery. The elements combining above our heads swirling with heat and colliding with colder air in the far reaches of the sky create a (sometimes) violent reaction in the form of sounds, sights, and moisture. It is fascinating. I recognize one can feel that fascination from the safe place such as an indoor location. If you get caught outside or on the road trying to drive it might not be quite as fascinating. However, from this particular experience inside a bookstore, it's full of intrigue and bookish possibility.

I restrained myself and only bought one book (and a couple little journals, one a gift) and it was a lovely afternoon excursion. By the time we paid and left, just a drizzle was falling, and the sky soon cleared out from all rain and storm remnants, leaving behind a slate grey palate.

How are you spending your summer? On the road? In the pool? At relatives' houses? Curled up on the cosy chair with a stack of books within arm's reach and possibly a cup of tea at the ready? You can tell where I am most of the time. Wishing you all the best this summer, with many books in your hands.

Sherlock and the Hound

 

But we hold several threads in our hands, and the odds are that one or other of them guides us to the truth. We may waste time in following the wrong one, but sooner or later, we must come upon the right.
- Sherlock Holmes in The Hound of the Baskervilles

The well known tale of Victorian gothic mystery - I have a feeling you might know it. But do you? Do you ever notice how you think you know a tale, but realize as you read the book for the first time, you really never knew much at all? This is the danger of a story being so wide-spread and 'known' in society and displayed through various channels of entertainment. We think we know a story, but we actually only know a movie version or a brief synopsis given by someone online or that we heard somewhere, but in the end we don't turn to the original source material to read ourselves. This book I think is a good example of such a faulty knowledge. And I fall down as an 'Exhibit A' of one who thought I knew this tale, but didn't. Take this theme on a much larger philosophical scale and you can see some of the issues in our culture today.

In the introduction of this lovely clothbound Penguin Classics edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles it is noted that this story was meant for the page; all the adaptations for the screen don't cut it (I am paraphrasing for sheer brevity). The thing about movies or television adaptations is that most of them change certain aspects of the original story to fit their imaginations. It is good and/or bad, depending on how well an adaptation is done and on ones views on staying true to the original text.

I thought I knew a few things about this story somehow through osmosis of culture, yet when I opened these first pages, I knew not where this story was going. Which to me, was a thrill. I let Sherlock and his quips and comments make me smile as he converses with Watson. If you've seen the screen versions of this, but haven't read it, go read it.

Always will I be one to stand tall and say 'the book is always better' than the movie, tv, etc, and I hold firm to that notion. An entire focus/theme/metaphor/lesson of the author's intent can be removed from any adaptation, so really, it can become another author coming in to make it their own. But I want to know what the original text is saying, especially in the context of the time it was written. For that, the original text needs to be perused.

I loved getting to see all the quirky characteristics of Sherlock through the eyes of John Watson's writing including a few letters and diary entries. The little jokes and sarcastic remarks made me smirk throughout. This book is a rare longer story of Sherlock (most of the adventures are short stories), and it encompasses all the aspects of why you love these characters so much. The hauntingly atmospheric scenes in this mystery in the Devonshire countryside were set into my imagination by fluid detailed writing by Conan Doyle. So while there may be many threads our culture uses now to tell a story, I vouch for the page as the one I prefer. It may not be 'right' or wrong in terms of solving a mystery to the satisfaction of culture, but to me it is much more satisfying.