Life in the Multiverse

Here we are, on the very first days of 2011.  How is it finding you?  Do you feel any different?  It's kind of like a birthday, the start of a new year - you think you'll feel older, somehow, maybe wiser or stronger or mysteriously "new," but you usually don't.  This year, however, seems to be delivering a marked "something different."  Standing on this edge, I find myself thinking deeper, feeling freer, embracing harder.  Everything feels like a possibility, like hope.  And yet, the ghosts hover ever closer.

I decided to give Notes from a Sentient a face lift for the new year - something to better reflect this new frame of mind.  Do you like it?  I'm satisfied with my choice.  It's brighter, more colorful and dynamic, and it has my tree.  Yes, that one, over there - the one without any leaves, like a thing standing between worlds, between the living and dead, between the real and the imaginary, and do we really know on which side we reside?  It's a question worth pondering.  I do it all the time.  

There are lots of things I wanted to talk to you about.  With the constant babble of New Year's resolutions flying around, I thought I might talk about addiction and breaking bad habits (from my own personal perspective, since that's all any of us really has), but that's another post.  This one will have to be about writing - not the how but the why.  Why writing instead of habit-breaking, as would be so much more apropos for this time of year? Because that's where my head is at.  Sorry for the abrupt change in subject and the misplaced preposition, but that's just how it is tonight.  It's all I can do.

I was driving and thinking earlier, pondering my story, the one I've been working on, off and on, for too long now - the one that just won't shut up, never goes away, but never seems any easier to write, for all of that.  My son's head was stuck in his new manga book and a long, dark highway stretched out before me, the radio muttering just loud enough to know what song was playing, but low enough to become background noise to my thoughts.  I went away, snagged again by that other realm. (It's so close to this one, it's almost an overlay - like a nearly imperceptible caul.)

This novel won't let me be.  I've tried writing other things when I get exasperated and feel stuck with the plot, but I can't seem to get into anything else.  I think this is my Big Story - not Big in a NY Times Best Seller List kind of way, but Big in a this will gnaw at you until it's written, until it's done, kind of way.  What's funny is that it's not even the most personal story I intend to write.  That story is down the road a bit (the irony of this statement is something most of you will never get).  But this one is telling me to write, poking and prodding and whispering incessantly.  

I believe most people are like that tree (yes, that one up there), existing between worlds.  We are alive, but we're dying even as we live, will be dead some day, and weren't alive (does that mean we were dead, or simply did not exist?) before we were born.  We can be conscious, yet our mind, our attention, can be in two places (or more) at once.  We could be driving a car, for example, down a dark strip of highway while simultaneously seeing and experiencing somewhere else, another world, one that could be a memory but is more likely a figment of our quite considerable imaginations.  And this imaginative place where ideas and dreams and stories and paintings and songs come from is also a place divided, existing in and from different realms.  Our imaginations, our stories, seem to be part past experience, part anticipated future, part hopes and fears, and part the out-of-nowhere-from-nothingness that gives rise to those thoughts and ideas which we can't explain.  Not comfortably, at least.  

I think this is a piece of the puzzle, one of the core reasons why we create, why, if we are writers, we write.  (Of course, if you're a painter or an architect or a musician, you create in those way - I think it all comes to the same.)  Because these worlds, all of these realities we exist in, must be paid homage to, must be expressed.

Do you ever feel that way?  As if some fictional character, some moment in your mind, some feeling or glimmer of insight, is going to push against the confines of your being until it finally gets out?  Some people say, "I felt like I would just burst if I didn't get it all out!"  

It is like that, isn't it?  Like a living entity trying to be hatched or freed.  We, their surrogates or their creators (the jury is still out on that one), we don't have any choice, do we?  

Mmm... (as one thought leads to another) but we do, don't we?    We have a choice.  We can ignore the imagination, the other realms that are speaking to us.  We can pretend we don't hear the voices, don't see the vision.  But we know what that means.  It means the death of the soul.  Art is self preservation.  It is the soul's struggle for survival - the only sustenance there is, the only chance.  The only difference between we, the creative people of the world, and those that don't seek a creative outlet, is that we understand this one simple fact.  Art is life.  Anything else is suicide.  Or voluntary zombieism - and when it comes down to that, is there really any difference?

A Sentient Holiday Survival Guide (and a little catch-up)

Hello friends, on this fine Thanksgiving eve.  I trust this finds you well, if a little stressed, perhaps a little apprehensive?  I know we're about to embark on that ambivalent and potentially trying time of year, The Holidays.  Here in America, we start with Thanksgiving and the fun (or misery, depending on your lot) doesn't stop until after the New Year.  If that prospect excites you, I share your joy and wish you all the magical beauty and warmth this time of year can offer.  If not, I feel you, too, because we all know that family time isn't always happy time.  But... I'll get back to that in a minute.  First, to catch up.

I saw Deathly Hallows Part 1 over the weekend, and I'm pleased to say it was fantastic.  Anyone else seen it yet?  I'd love to hear your impressions.  There were parts that took my breath away, and a few that choked me up entirely.  I need to see it again, to thoroughly digest it all (any idea on how long 'til the DVD release?), and now I'm counting the months to the release of Part 2 in July.  It's excruciating, sitting here in the middle like this.  

Yesterday, I laid my hands on a copy of Stephen King's latest collection of short stories, Full Dark, No Stars .  I haven't even cracked it open yet, except to peek at the dedication page, which is to Tabitha King, and which touched me as much as every other one that's been dedicated to her in the past.  Somehow, his dedications never get old, and never fail to make me smile.  

In other news, I need to let you know that my dear friend, Sarah Franz-Wichlacz, is selling her one-of-a-kind hand-made critters, in case you know of a certain someone (you, perhaps?) that needs a magical creature in their life.  She makes them on commission, they're going for $75 per critter, and they're bigger than you think!  You can see examples of some she's made so far on her blog here, or look over to the right at Other Worlds to See and click on wich-crafting - you'll be transported to her world.  If you are interested in commissioning one of these lovelies from the lovely Sarah, you can email her directly at sfranzwichlacz@gmail.com.  I highly recommend it.  You won't be disappointed.  (Those magical hands can conjure the most wondrous creations.)

And now to deal with those potential holiday woes.  I know many of the people of my when and where are dealing with all kinds of recent family upheavals, yours truly being no exception.  If you have no such issues, and you get along great with your family, then do give thanks and hug and kiss those wonderful relations of yours for being a positive, stable, loving influence in your life.  Don't ever take that for granted.  

For everyone else, it can be hard sometimes to muster up good will and holiday spirit when you dread the awkward conversation, the elephant in the room, the endless mortifying decisions like what gifts to give, what food to serve, dear gods, what to wear  around these people!  Fear not, dear friends.  This too shall pass.  And in the mean time, I've come up with some ways to deal with it until it does.  

First, please remember that your familial relations, be they blood-tied or in-lawed, are people, too.  This sounds cliche, I know.  But it's something we don't often stop to really consider when we're sitting there, judging each other with fake smiles on our faces.  

Each and every person you see, and your family is no exception, has nagging fears, horrible habits (like your own), and their own particular ways of protecting themselves (just like you) from anyone who seems to them to be attacking who they are or what they hold dear.  These bits of self defense may come across as a prejudice, rudeness, or a direct attack on you.  They are protecting themselves.  Remember this.  In every difficult, confusing moment, people are just trying to survive, whether they are conscious of it or not.  Think about that for a moment.  Consider the people you know and try it on for size.  Can you see how this applies?

Are you with me on this?  Do you see what I mean? 

Now that we've put that into perspective (hopefully), I want to suggest that, in order to really make it through The Holidays intact and, perhaps (dare we hope?), happy, it's important to start looking inward.  Just a moment will do.  Who are you?  At your core?  What is the very best of you?  And what do you have (don't roll your eyes) to be thankful for?  

I sometimes think the Fates set it up this way, that Thanksgiving should kick off the holiday season (at least in this country) for a reason, and, sue me, but I think I'm onto something here.  

You have something, even if it looks like the whole wide world has gone gray and black with awful loss or sadness or just plain awkward family stuff.  If you have family, count this as a blessing.  Many people have no one, and not everyone likes it that way.  If you have "no one," remember that you have yourself, that you are alive, and treat yourself to something you love, something you enjoy, something that reminds you that being alive isn't so bad.  There's still good music.  There's a sky to wonder at.  And great books to read.  Movies to watch.  New people you've never met... but could. 

What I'm trying to say, friends, is that we are all someone and so is everyone else.  Don't let an awkward moment (or an infuriating one) rattle your core.  Your Aunt Mable may always criticize your clothes or your cooking.  So what?  It makes her feel better about herself to make you feel bad.  Don't let her.  You are you and that's no better or worse than anyone else.  

You've lost someone, or your family has a great big schism running through it.  Smile at all of them, even the ones you disagree with.  The point is who is there, not who isn't.  The point is that you're all human and all going through your own experience.  Disagreements are bound to happen.  It doesn't have to make you miserable.  And if someone in your family feels the need to start a confrontation, by all means let them, as long as it's productive, as long as it's honest, as long as it means getting down to admitting there's a big fat elephant sitting in your living room.  Go ahead, hash it out.  

I used to believe that people should just "try to get along" for the holidays, but I think I've grown past that now.  I still believe people should try to appreciate each other for the holidays, but that's not the same thing.  Learning to be honest, learning to be real, even if you don't get the reactions your hoping for, is a hard thing.  But it's better.  It's worlds better.  I promise you that.  

So, let Aunt Mable criticize the turkey for the 15th year in a row.  Let her tell you that purple really isn't your color.  And then look her in the eye and ask her, openly and honestly, why she feels the need to criticize you every year.  She may deny it, she may defend it, but whatever she says, it's better than swallowing your feelings... again. 

And then make sure you show each person in your world (even Aunt Mable) that you care, that you appreciate them in some way (even if it's hard to find, everyone can be appreciated for something).  It can be a small show of appreciation (like a compliment or a smile, so long as it's genuine), or a big show, like a direct "I love you" or a long conversation.  Whatever else you do at the closing of this year, do this.  You have no idea how good this feels, to put some good will into the world, and you have no idea how much good you might actually be doing, whether you can see the proof of it or not. Either way, it may very well save your holidays.  And it most surely will save your soul.  

For the Moon Never Beams

I promised to post my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe yesterday, but Halloween stood in my way and absolutely refused to let me near a computer.  (Please, no "late" jokes.)  Today, however, is All Saints' Day, and the Day of the Dead in Mexico, which means this poem is still appropriate.  So, in honor of my late Catholic grandmother (yeah, okay, I couldn't help it - luckily she had a good sense of humor) who, upon her divorce, renamed herself after her favorite Catholic saint, and who first shared this bit of Poe's soul with me, I now share it with all of you. 

Read this poem aloud, if possible.  If you read slowly and listen closely, you can almost feel the chill of sea spray and hear the sound of waves crashing in the distance.

ANNABEL LEE
by Edgar Allan Poe
 
It was many and many a year ago,
    In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
    By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
    Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
    In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love —
    I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
    Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
    In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
    My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
    And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
    In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
    Went envying her and me —
Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know,
    In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
    Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
    Of those who were older than we —
    Of many far wiser than we —
And neither the angels in heaven above,
    Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,
    In her sepulchre there by the sea,
    In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Tis the Season to Give Horror

Jack Skellington-O-Lantern

Happy Friday, friends!  Halloween is almost here.  Are you ready?  Have your costume picked out?  Candy bought for all those goblin beggars that will be banging down your door this Sunday eve?  And did you know, by the way, that there are places that have banned Halloween on Sundays?  Yes, it's true.  I don't make this stuff up.  Look here, at this Huffington Post link.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/10/27/la-parish-bans-halloween-_n_774945.html

See?  I'm just very, very glad not to live in such a sacrilegious place.

In other news, have you heard about Neil Gaiman's All Hallows Read?  Mr. Gaiman, in all of his wisdom, decided that there aren't enough holidays for which we give books.  So, he proposed that we do so for Hallowe'en (his more proper spelling, I'll assume).  The idea is to give a scary book to someone, anyone, for this most spooky of holidays.  His idea, my friends, has caught on like wild fire.  People have been tweeting and facebooking.  Even the venerable Stephen King has endorsed the idea on his own site  .  (Sigh... I do love that man... but I digress.)  And now, out of this spark of an idea presented by Neil Gaiman on his blog six days ago, allhallowsread.com is born!  News of this just went out today.  Per Mr. Gaiman's current blog entry:

It's very skeletal right now. I suggested it, the webgoblin and the former webelf collaborated, I wrote some FAQs based on things people had asked on Twitter, Facebook or here, and we threw it up, figuring it was more important to get something up (two days before Hallowe'en) than to get it right.

So, in the spirit of All Hallows Read, go to your local used book store and pick up some dusty tomes.  Hand them out to people you love.  Even if you just give one, and even if it's a dog-eared, cover-torn paperback, the Spirit of Halloween will surely smile upon you... and probably cackle.  

Not sure what to get and/or give?  Haven't really been that into horror and ghost stories, but think you might pick up the habit, just, you know, to be a follower?  I happen to have a few suggestion.  (Bet you didn't see that coming.)

If you're looking for something for kids, or just don't want too much R rated material, try these:

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz.  The image/link to the left is actually for the whole Scary Stories Treasury.  The title I mention here is simply the first of three books.  I read these when I was a kid, they're sold as "children's books," but they are, to this day, some of the creepiest books I've ever laid my hands or eyes on.  The illustrations alone (brilliant work done by Stephen Gammell) will imprint upon your brain, never to be forgotten for as long as you live.  At least, that's my belief, as I've been carrying their haunting visages around in my head since childhood.  The stories themselves are urban legends and bits of folklore adapted by Schwartz, which, I think, is what makes them have such staying power.  Some of these stories you may have actually heard before, over a campfire late at night, or from your best friend's big brother that one time you stayed over.  And here they are, illustrated with pictures out of your worst nightmares.  

As an aside, I read on Wiki that:  This series is listed as being the most challenged series of books from 1990–1999^[2] and seventh most challenged from 2000-2009 ^[3] by the American Library Association for its religious viewpoint and violence as well as for being occultist, satanic, or inappropriate.

Interesting...

Moving right along, you could also get your hands on a copy of 

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman.  I have a confession to make.  I haven't actually read this one yet.  But I hear it's fantastic, and that it's about a boy who's raised in a graveyard by ghosts.  Who's not intrigued now?  

Also, in case you don't already know, you can watch/listen to Neil Gaiman read The Graveyard Book in its entirety here:  http://www.mousecircus.com/videotour.aspx

But, if you're looking for something for more mature readers, I have to suggest some of my old favorites.

 
The Shining by Stephen King.  Of course.  This is one of King's most frightening tales, and here it is with its new pulp-fiction-styled cover.  This one never gets old.  It will scare the bejeezus out of you.  Best read late at night, in the house all alone.  Preferably with snow falling rapidly outside your window... but this is Halloween, so we can just skip that part.  But, if you're chicken, it's okay to read it in broad daylight, perhaps sitting outside a cafe with lots of people milling around you.  I'll leave that part up to you.

 If you'd like something a little more classic there's always:

You cannot go wrong with Poe.  It's the law.  If you've never read any of his works... well... I'll first ask you what planet you've been living on your whole life or have you possibly been raised by wolves in the frozen tundra?  In that case, you're forgiven.  And I will also say that you just need to read one, maybe two of his stories in order to be hooked. (This, too, is The Law.)  What are my favorites, you ask?  I'm very attached to "The Tell-Tale Heart". And "The Masque of the Red Death" is honestly stunning.  Or "The Fall of the House of Usher" - a perfect tale for a dark and stormy night.  

Although, I have heard that it's best to hear Poe read aloud, and I am not at all about to disagree.  There is this audio collection, read by Vincent Price and Basil Rathbone.  I wouldn't mind having this collection myself... look how beautiful!  If anyone wanted to send it to me... ;) 

(Also, I will tell you that I plan on posting my favorite Poe poem on Halloween day, if you want to check back to read it.)

Now, let's say you're tired of vampire romances, sick of your vampires sparkling (I'm sorry, but you know how I feel about the Twilight series, and if you don't, well... there it is.  Cat's out of the bag, I can't take it back now.), wishing there was something you could read (or give to overthrow an unhealthy vampire-romance addiction in another) that was a bit darker, a touch truer-to-legend, about our immortal blood-sucking brethren. Have you perchance read

Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice?  No?  Get thee to a bookstore at once!  (Or, of course, you can order it through the Amazon link on the image to your left, but it's slutty of me to say so, so let's just pretend that didn't happen, okay?)  This is the first of a very, very good series where all the mortals are either prey or turned into vampires themselves.  As it should be.  Carry on.

 And now, I would be remiss if I didn't suggest some short story collections. (Apart from Mr. Poe's, that is, since he wrote primarily short stories and poetry, so that doesn't really count, does it?) 

Everything's Eventual is a more recent collection of short stories by Sai King, and it contains that most deeply disturbing encounter in room "1408".  Did you see the movie?  The short story is less elaborate than the movie, but somehow scarier for all of that.  This book also contains "Riding the Bullet", which was also turned into a movie that yours truly never even knew existed until my husband found it in the bargain bin at one of our local media stores.  This is now one of my favorite King movie adaptations.  You'll have to see it to understand why.  And, one last bit of enticement, for any of my readers that happen to be Dark Tower fans, I'll tell you a secret - there's a Tower story in here.  (Can you see the carrot dangling between my fingers?)

And finally, if you just can't decide, and need some variety in your life, hot of the presses April this year is The Mammoth Book of the Best of Best New Horror, featuring "Two decades of dark fiction" at your fingertips.  Stephen King, Peter Straub, Clive Barker, Neil Gaiman, and a whole bunch more.... there's got to be something worth giving in here.

I could go on and on (no, really I could - don't tempt me), suggesting books out of my very most favorite genre (though fantasy would be a very close second), but I'll stop here for now.  

I hope you have a wonderfully spooky weekend and manage to give away at least one scary book for All Hallows Read.  I should see you 'round this way on Halloween, but if we miss each other, have a happy, happy haunting!

Fall Cleaning and A Little More Light in the World

http://www.flickr.com/photos/markjhandel/1439891637/

Hello again, friends.  I've been bopping around Blogger lately, seeing new things, and doing some fall cleaning.  There have been a few interesting Blogs of Note in the past month or two, and I've made a few new acquaintances (and followers!  Hello, new followers!).  This notwithstanding, Blogger has been shifting and changing and, although probably improving, still annoying me with all its construction weirdness. 

There for awhile I couldn't post an image to save my life.  And then, yesterday, I logged on and found my Reading List empty with a message (sitting there, simple and wicked, like a ransom note) that read, "You are not currently following any blogs."

What.

You wouldn't think this would cause so much mental anguish, but apparently I have become irrevocably dependent on you all.  I think an actual chill ran down my spine.  I panicked and started tracking down my favorite blogs, making sure I was showing up as a follower (something I swore back in high school I'd never be ;) on each one.  With a heavy sigh of relief, I found that I was still there, my little black and white tree icon waving back at me from the sea of followers that each of you have procured with your wit or brilliance or soul-touching insight and courage.  By the time I got back to my Dashboard, my Reading List was back in business with headlines from all your recent posts.  Whew! 

So, here I am, no longer seeing the past year-and-a-quarter of my blogging life flash before my eyes, no longer worried that I'll have to track you all down again and reassure everyone that yes, I am still here, and still following.

And now I want to tell you about something that was shown to me, which relates to my previous post.  There exists a woman (and I'm convinced she may actually be an angel, or some kind of demi-god, or at least a very, very old soul that could have gone on, but chose to still grace this existence, mostly for our benefit) named Amy Oscar who has a site on which she discusses the human experience and how to get the most out of what we've been given (namely time - even if it's just a little - and life).  She is amazing, and a million times more enlightened than yours truly, I don't mind admitting.  Here is a link to her post, We are all bullies.  I was humbled after reading this, hoping my own post on the subject wasn't too harsh, too unforgiving, and being forced to admit that I have so much to learn... so much further to go.  Please visit her world.  She's human, like us, for all of my awe - she curses and gets tired and gets scared and grows disillusioned at times (proof of this here, one of my favorite Amy Oscar posts)... but she speaks from her heart and from the greatest truth that she knows. Some things just make me happy to know they exist.  Amy Oscar is one of them. 

And last, as I mentioned, some fall cleaning.  You may have noticed that I've added some new Other Worlds to my wall - more places that I frequent and which I find particularly intriguing for one reason or another.  Please, go visit a few.  You might find something new there that you never realized you were missing. 

Then, of course, I've changed up the song list, which I know only plays a part of each song, and this irks me, too... but it's the only way I know of to have some appropriate tunes, and even if you never listen, it makes me feel satisfied and complete to know it's there.  I just can't operate properly without music.  Currently, these are Songs for the Transition, by which I mean they're songs that remind me of starting a new school year, of autumn, of changing.  This list will morph and change as time goes on, even if the title stays the same.  Check back from time to time... you'll see. 

The rest of the changes you may not notice at all.  Just a little sprucing up here and there.  It's good to dust off the cobwebs before shutting the house against the winter cold.