Tuesday, March 29, 2016

(Current Untitled) - 03.29.16

http://www.wallconvert.com/search/apocalypse/


    Whether most people admit it or not, many dream about some kind of worldwide catastrophe. Whether it be zombies, some kind of massive plague, or maybe even a world war. Many people dream about having the planet wiped clean of humanity.
    Now don’t get me wrong, few would ever dream of admitting it.
    The very thought of the horror of such an event, how many lives would be wiped away in any kind of global catastrophe, is sickening. So many men, women, and children, each with their own individual hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes, gone forever. Billions lost. It turns the stomach.
    However, it’s hard not to admit that there is a certain allure. If there wasn’t, why is modern media dominated by this post-apocalyptic ideal?
    Those brave enough to admit their own desires will surely have their reasons. The environmentalist might say “Now the world can begin to heal.” The survivalist might say “Now I can live without being bothered.” Hell, we all know at least one person who wants nothing more than to just go fight the zombies that might plague this theoretical world.
    At the end of the day, no matter the reason, it all boils down to individual greed.
    The desire to see the world turned from that which it is into a barren wasteland, no matter the type, stems from a selfish desire to make the world itself yours. No rules. No boundaries. Take what you want and make your way in the world without anyone telling you what you can or can’t do. A clean slate to do what you will.
    But there’s one problem
    No one ever thinks that they will be the one to die in this apocalypse. They are the one who will see it through. They are the one that will see the world born again. They would never hope for such a disaster if they didn’t think they’d survive it.
    Would they?



Sorry about the wait



First and foremost, allow me to apologize. I'm well aware that I have been neglecting the site for several months now. I won't go into the finer details of what's been going on but know that it's been a number of things including major illness, financial issues, and a combination of both career and family changes. Please note that this isn't a matter of pity but simply a thinly veiled excuse for my absence despite my best efforts (see January's failed attempt to return).

Unfortunately, due to everything, I simply wasn't writing or producing anything. That said, I hope to start working my way back into regular writing and production (if the fates allow). I don't want to make any false promises regarding daily production, however shooting for at least once a week to start doesn't sound too bad.

If you have any questions, feel free to let me know. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the above post (currently untitled), an excerpt from the new work that I've started. I hope you enjoy.

- RB

Friday, January 29, 2016

The Barren Pot




    Long ago, in a kingdom all but forgotten by the passage of time, there lived a young child. Now this child was neither strong nor fast. They were not smart or savvy. They were just a child like any other who was born of a mother and a father who worked hard for what they had and cared deeply for their child.
    At the same time, there lived a King. He was well known for being cunning and clever and always finding a way to turn the worst situation into the best. He had ruled the kingdom for many years. While some thought ill of him and others held deep love, the one thing everyone agreed on was that he was an honest King. A man of the people who always spoke his mind and told his citizens the truth of what was going on; for better or for worse.
    But, clever or kind, honest or not, the one thing a great King cannot escape; nay! What no man, woman, or child can escape is the passage of time.
    The King had become quite old over the years. A handsome brown beard had become wispy and white. Burning eyes that watched the court’s every movement had become clouded and grey. The oak that had stood tall bowed to the wind and the rain.
    Sadly, the King had never married.
    Some say he had loved in his youth but lost her before gaining the crown. Others believed that he was always simply too busy to seek a wife to sire him an heir. Whatever the reason, the King held no heir. No person to take the crown in the approaching date of his death.
    Now what might this have to do with our young child, you ask? Just listen, and you will see.
    The child, while doing their chores, heard an announcement from one of the King’s men.
    “All who wish for a chance at the crown, make way to the court!” the man bellowed.
    How odd. The child thought. How peculiar indeed.
    Now, the child held little interest in the matters of court, but their mother and father, who worked so hard and so long for their place in life, wanted more. They rushed to the court with the young child in tow.
    “No pushing! No shoving!” shouted a man at the gates. “You’ll all get your turn.”
    And they did. Man, woman, and child were paraded through the court like show ponies before the old King and the guards in shining armor. Some ladies danced and sung to demonstrate their prowess while men showed off their great muscles and their swordsmanship. But it was never enough for the King…
    What did he want? The child wondered.
    Dozens of people were turned away.
    Then hundreds.
    After thousands of people had been turned away by the King, only twenty remained before him. Our young child and nineteen other bright eyed youths.
    “You twenty are the ones I believe show the most promise.” The King said in a raspy and tired tone. “You are the ones who I believe are the best hope for this kingdom. The best hope to take my throne…”
    The guards produced a table from beneath a heavy cloth. On this table, twenty clay pots rested quietly in two rows. Off to the side, a single glass bowl held a number of little seeds.
    “While I think you all have potential, the crown fits only one.” The King went on to say. “And so I will give you all a task.”
    With a wave of his wrinkled, shaking hand, the King motioned towards the pots and the seeds.
    “You will each take one pot and one seed. You will be given two months to grow that which you can from that which you are given.”
    The crowd gasped aloud.
    “You mean to tell me you leave our lives in the hands of gardeners?” a man shouted in anger from the court.
    The King did not respond.
    “In two months’ time, you will return with your pot and your seed and whatever has come of it. I’m curious to see what great and tall plants will come of this endeavor.”
    And so the young child, along with nineteen other youths, were given a pot and a seed and sent on their way.
    At first, the child was hopeful. They planted the seed right away and cared for it carefully. They watered it and fertilized it and let the pot rest in sun and in shade, just in case the plant needed either. They spent every waking hour watching the pot, waiting for the first sprout to show.
    But, after several days, nothing…
    “I’m sure it’s just taking a while.” The young child’s mother said.
    And so they kept trying. Soon, days turned to weeks and still nothing.
    “Perhaps the seed is bad.” The young child’s father said. “If only we knew what type of plant it was so we might replant it.”
    The young child said nothing. Instead, they went for a walk through the village to look at the other plants that the children were growing.
    It wasn’t long before the child reached his nearest neighbor and saw the beautiful morning glory flowers that were blooming from the pot. In weeks it was already vining and budding.
    Oh no! Look at that flower! It’s gorgeous already!
    They continued on to the next house where they saw the next pot. To the child’s surprise, a red rose was growing out of the pot!
    A rose? But the last flower was a morning glory…
    Entranced, the young child continued on. In the walk, they saw five morning glories, four roses, six petunias, three snapdragons, and one lily.
    Returning home, they looked down at the barren empty pot and smiled with realization.
    Soon, two months had passed and the children once again stood in the King’s court with their pots in hand. Everyone laughed and singed and pointed at the gorgeous flowers that every youth held. Everyone had a beautiful flower except the young child. Their pot was still empty.
    Many people pointed and laughed and mocked the child but they remained quiet.
    “A gorgeous morning glory.” The King said to the first child as he called them up to show what had grown. “Truly you have a knack for this kind of work. Step back until I make my decision.”
    “What a beautiful rose.” The King said to the next child. “Hold there until a decision has been made.”
    It continued like this one by one. Praises and compliments and standing ovations for the gorgeous plants each youth held. Until finally, the King reached the young child who stood before him with their barren pot.
    “And you, child. Your pot is empty. You are surrounded by beauty and fairness by all the other competitors. Why do you approach me today.”
    “B-b-because, your M-majesty. You wanted to see what came of this endeavor and you have seen it.”
    “That I have.” The King said, a joy slipping into his cracking old voice.
    “We have our new sovereign!” the King declared to the shocked gasps and guffaws of the court. “And my heir!”
    “But how?!” cried the parent of one of the children. “My boy’s rose is the most beautiful here and that child has nothing in their pot!”
    “And that is why.” The King said with a smile. “For they are the only one to have nothing in their pot.”
    The court felt silent at this.
    “Tell me, sir.” The King said to the parent’s youth. “Where did you get your rose seed?”
    The youth hung their head in shame. “My parents, your Majesty.”
    “And you?” he asked another.
    “The gardener.” She said with tears in her eyes.
    The same repeated another seventeen times, one by one, as the King revealed how every child or parent had planted new seeds when they realized the seed they had was barren. The young child, neither cunning nor witty, but honest, was the only one who did not cheat in hopes of winning the contest.
    “And you, child” the King said, “Where did you get your seed.”
    “Your Majesty, the King.”
    Before a shocked crowd and a gaping court, the child and their parents were raised up before the other men and women in the room to join the King at his side. Over the years, he taught the child everything he knew and, far too soon, faded with time. But the child, now strong and smart from the great King’s tutelage, went on to become one of the greatest Lieges the kingdom had ever known, always remembering the lessons the King had taught them.




(Please note that most will realize this is not an original story. Instead, this is a story inspired by an old Chinese Folk story “The Empty Pot (An Owlet Book)”. Obviously this is my take on the idea with my own adages and a European spin, however I cannot take any credit for the tale itself and do not wish to. Instead I hope that you enjoyed.)

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Getting Back in the Game



Hey Everyone,

I'm sure that it's no news that I've been out of commission for the last two months. I only just realized that I never actually posted my news-warning that I wouldn't be here! I'm so sorry! Long story short, the holidays (November and December) are absolute nightmares for me at work. Couple that with a number of personal things that I needed to take care of, I've had little to no time to myself...much less any to do anything useful with.

I'm happy to say that I will be returning. Keep your ear to the ground and be ready to see a return to normal scheduling here in the next couple of days. Of course things posted will include prompts and ideas, writing practices, reviews, and, should I find the time and those interested, I would like to start forming a network for both writers and commissioners to help find each other to build the literature community.

If you need anything from our end, don't hesitate to reach out! Aside from that, we'll be back in the game within the week! Sorry again for the wait.


- Rob

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Book Review - The Antagonists: Book One



First, before we begin, allow me to say that figuring out how to rate this book was one of my bigger struggles. As a whole, I really do like the concept behind the book. It's about a young colored woman, confined to a wheel chair, down on her luck and suffering with the trials of day to day living when she meets a group of superheros. It's only after she's had a moment to deal with them that she realizes the heroes are in fact a bigoted and hateful group that use her for their own means while the villain (ahem: Antagonist) is the one who sides with her.

This is a fresh concept that I can say I've never seen before. It's fun. It's funny. It's thought provoking. I absolutely love the idea behind it and would like to see more done with it. Unfortunately, while I was hoping for an analytic examination of the superhero/villain genre along with some smart/funny commentary on social treatment of a main character that doesn't fit the "White Male Hero" trope; that was not what I got.

To begin, it's quite clear that Burgandi Rakoska is an amateur writer. I've done some quick and dirty research and I've realized that this was a book of passion. A story that she came up with out of the blue and, given drive from friends and family, was encouraged to make her idea a reality. In a way this is fantastic. Nothing good will ever come into this world without the passion to drive it. On the other, I believe she would have benefited from more writing practice.

I will start with the easy one: Formatting and Typographical errors. I won't beat the dead horse here since literally most every review talks about the excess number of formatting errors and typos, so just know that they're there.

More to the point, the book has two primary issues: Control of Time and Awkward Narrative and Phrasing. Regarding Time, it's clear that Rakoska had a number of ideas that she wanted to deliver but wasn't sure just quite how to run them together. This gives the story a bit of a "choppy" feel. You'll have this sudden speed up to one thing or another coupled with a very slow and precise detailing of another scene. Entire days are missed utilizing the 'character knocked unconscious' trope, resulting in the characters telling us rather than showing us what happened.

Couple this with the Awkward narrative and some sections of the book can be extremely difficult to get through. Again, it's clear that Rakoska had a very genuine love for and wanted to see an atypical main character. However, she begins inserting things that are just odd or don't make sense. One scene (a fight scene), out of the clear blue sky, starts talking at length about the sexuality of Merlin. In the context of the fight it might have made sense to have a one off here, but we're talking a LENGTHY discussion arguing like kindergartners. Another example has to do with no one is supposed to be able to enter Victor's home but, because of the specific wording of the spell, Minnie (the main character) is able to roll in. This is funny on it's own, but then her sister is able to run into the house later on, basically making it seem like the only people who can't enter the house are those on a casual stroll.

When all is said and done, the book has a number of fun ideas. Aside from the attempt at social commentary, the book features appearances from greats like Nicholas Flamel, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone. It has an amazing twist with one of the superheroes having a rather unexpected power. It even has a very pleasant ending that will make the toils of the book seem worthwhile.

Overall, the book has heart but is in desperate need of an accompanying editor and maybe even a second, more experienced author to help Rakoska focus her abilities and thoughts. I understand that she's in the process of creating a second entry into the Antagonists series and I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was looking forward to it. This is a series that deserves to do well, it just needs the technical delivery to get it there. Heck, if Rakoska were to re-write Book 1, I can assure you I'd be one of the first ones to pick it back up.