Archive for June, 2015
SUPERNATURAL, A GREAT TV SERIES
I’m somewhat behind the curve when it comes to popular culture; think Neanderthal. However, on Netflix I stumbled upon a series, Supernatural, which I think is fantastic. I also discovered that a local station carries the series, probably has for years.
I spend hours each night catching up on past episodes. In a nutshell, the series follows two brothers who investigate strange occurrences and hunt the monsters causing these events. Also involved in the continuing story line are a host of demons and angels. Turns out, not all demons are bad, and not all angels are good.
I love this show!
The writers are beyond excellent, providing twists and turns in a continuing plot with always a new element that will grip your attention and keep you guessing ‘What could possibly come next’? On occasion, the writers also provide a bit of humor with episodes which introduce the ‘Ghostfacers’, along with other episodes that will leave you chuckling, in spite of the horror.
The dynamics of the relationship of the brothers is also a constant conflict keeping the storyline unpredictable to say the least. All is not rosy with this series, as well it should not be.
If you enjoy horror as much as I, do, and great writing, something rare these days in TV, find a source and begin watching Supernatural.
THE CATBIRD SINGS HIS SONG, LIKE NO OTHER
Nearly every morning this spring, and I’m sure the trend will continue into summer and fall, with the windows open to welcome the cooling night air, lacking AC, I hear the rambling song of a catbird. Hearing him sing brings a smile to my face. He sounds so happy.
Years ago, when I first heard his song, I thought someone’s parakeet or canary had escaped as I listened to his ever-varying song. Then one day, while doing outside chores, I followed his song to a bush. There he was, a plain-looking gray bird singing his heart out. His appearance was nothing like what his beautiful music led me to believe he would look like. He sat in the bush singing for all he was worth. Going inside, I referenced one of my many bird books and found he was a catbird.
He has no constant song, just a series of unrepeated chirps. There are times I think he should be called the ‘happiness bird’, for his song is a song of total joy, like no other I’ve heard.
Catbirds range over most of the U.S., so listen for him. And for those with AC, open your windows, when the temperature permits, on spring and summer nights. You’ll be surprised at the sounds of nature’s world right outside your window.
Here are some links where you may purchase my work.
Melange Books
http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html
Barnes & Noble.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/walt-trizna?store=book&keyword=walt+trizna
Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna
I AM NOT A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE, MAYBE
I wrote this piece on a lark, not intending to publish it, only to amuse myself. It was ludicrous, and somewhat embarrassing, then the landscape changed.
Donald Trump, aka ‘The Donald’, not to be confused with the duck, has just announced his is running for President of the United States, ‘really this time’. How in the hell could you not really run for the most powerful position in the world?
I wrote the following piece some time ago, not thinking I would post it, but the comedy has begun.
God help us all.
I want to make clear the record before there is one. I AM NOT RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. There, I’ve said it. There is not turning back. No matter how much money pours into my coffers from super pacs. But if anyone who wishes to pour money into my coffers, you can contact me through this blog. Nothing in politics is written in stone.
This declaration is made because of observations I have made. There have been has-beens, and others, with no chance of achieving the coveted goal of president. During which, they have obtained media exposure by making proclamations identical to mine.
Currently, I am an unknown author, possessing no skills required for the office. Exposure is the point of this declaration. This is the reason I have decided not to run for the office of President of the United States. If you think this is a joke – look at the list of non-candidates.
Stay in touch. Who knows, I may change my mind now that ‘The Donald’ is in the race. Somewhere I know, Pat Paulson is smiling.
To ‘The Donald’, at some point, I may not really decide not to run for president.
That should keep him busy for a while.
REVIVAL BY STEPHEN KING
Published as a paperback by Galley Books in 2015, with Revival, Stephen King has done it again; taking us on a ride through interesting characters with a touch of horror, maybe more than a touch. I enjoyed this novel. Now let me tell you why.
First, some background.
Stephen King and I are the same age, and we’re both writers of horror. The similarities stop there. King has bucks coming out his butt because his novels sell because they are excellent reads. I just have a butt with the usual production, but I’m working to change that. I love King’s work, and with this last novel, I’m beginning to understand why.
We grew up together.
I enjoy all of King’s earlier novels, written while he and I were young or of middle age, the characters kept my interest and the storylines were magnificent horror. But the age of the characters was unimportant to both me and the work. Then, as he grew old, and life took its toll, his writing began to change, and being the same age, I now strongly identify with the characters.
There is no guide to getting old, thank God, for if there was, some might chose not to. Everyone’s experience is different and unique. There are those who do not have a chance to experience the aches, pains and loss of the purpose they once knew. You know the only way to not grow old, think Marilyn Monroe. They are the ones who suffer the loss of opportunity of time and accomplishment.
Now, about the story.
Revival centers on a minister who loses his faith and a young boy he encounters before circumstances cause this loss. Even after his loss of faith, the minister holds revivals and accomplishes cures using ‘secret electricity’, an unknown form of electricity which he is sure exists. He also feels this electricity will allow him to glimpse worlds we cannot normally see. The result is not pleasant. King goes totally H.P. Lovecraftian at the novel’s conclusion. Being a fan of Lovecraft, I loved it.
Revival is an excellent tale of horror, but it is much more. It is also a skilled description of the ageing process through the life of its characters. Until you are there, advance age cannot be truly described. This is what give a richness to King’s tale. Through personal experience, King does a fantastic job of combining advance age, and bearing the crosses of life’s experiences. I also bear crosses, and am stumbling through the years.
Treat yourself.
Read this book.
CHRISTOPHER LEE DIES AT 93
As a writer of horror, I feel we should pause and offer a moment of silence for the passing of Christopher Lee.
I grew up watching him dine on nubile women and issuing terror into my young mind. He journeyed onto the screen in the footsteps of Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. Stay out of character, Christopher, and rest in peace.
ELEVEN MINUTES BY PAULO COELHO
Existing somewhere between clinical and raunchy, this novel explores the world of sex through the eyes of a Brazilian woman, living in Geneva, Switzerland, as a prostitute. The work journeys from one extreme to another, following the woman through her profession and experiences, but maintains a level of literature which is both informative and captivating. After experiencing love found, then lost, she stumbles into this profession more by accident than desire. Although, through following her experiences, both desire and love come into play.
What I found most intriguing was the way Coelho mined the thoughts of a women, especially those of a woman in an uncommon situation of love for sale and profound individuality.
I love this author’s work, and treat yourself, start reading his novels.
A FADING GENERATION
For the last twelve years, or so, I have volunteered to work admissions for World War II weekend, held the first weekend of June by the Mid Atlantic Air Museum located in Reading, Pennsylvania. This year, it was held on June 5, 6 and 7th. I would like to share some of the special moments I experienced that weekend and which I will never forget.
First, I want to set the scene.
Picture this, fighters and bombers from both the navy and army air force, most more than 70 years old and representing the aircraft this country used to win the war. Among the bombers there was Fifi, the only flying B-29 in the world, along with a B-24, B-17 and multiple B-25s. I know to many, these designations are meaningless. But to students of history and those who share a passion for WWII aircraft, these titles have meaning. I won’t go on to name all the fighters, but all told, there were about 80 aircraft present. During the show, troop encampments were also present with more than 1000 reenactors and over 100 authentic military vehicles from that period. Represented were units from the American army, navy and marines. There were also British, German, Japanese, and French resistance reenactors. On occasion, I would also see uniforms I could not place, especially one lad dressing in brown with a huge black feather sprouting from his pith helmet.
What I enjoy most since I began volunteering has been meeting and talking to the veterans of that war. Ten years ago most walked in, now most are wheeled in by family members, but they still come. You can see the anticipation in their eyes as they enter the gates, a chance to relive their ‘glory days’. What I found special this year as I worked the gate were people who showed up with an extra ticket, and would say, “Give this to the next veteran you see.” This happened several times, and when the tickets were presented, usually to a wheelchair-bound former soldier, you could see the gratitude of someone’s generosity, and also, the appreciation for the recognition of their service.
For me, another special encounter was when I talked to a reenactor. I don’t know what unit he represented, though I think it was a marine outfit. He told me he had learned something of the hardships and sacrifices the men he now acted as endured. Here was a man, not even 40, telling me that knowledge brought tears to his eyes.
Honoring and remembering our history, the importance cannot be overrated.
STRUGGLLING TO GET IT WRITE: AN EPIPHANY
This piece will demonstrate how slow a learner I am and how much I have to learn.
I’m in the process of reading Paulo Coelho’s novel, Eleven Minutes. I’m sure many of you are familiar with his name from his famous novel, The Alchemist, which has been on the bestseller list for years.
As I’m reading, I marvel at how simple the process of his writing appears to be, how characters and scenes just falls into place. As I brooded on this observation and compared it to my own work, lightning struck my addled brain. The process was not simple but born through skill and hard work. The richness I observed was the level of his skill and determination.
I have had a problem for the last few years, well maybe more than one, and have discussed it in my blog in the past. I have a fear of the rewrite, of not getting it perfect. What a fool! The ‘write’ doesn’t make the piece, it’s the rewrite that gives life to the framework.
Looking at a writer as a sculptor, a sculptor of thought, if you will, the first draft is the initial release of the form imprisoned in the rock or marble, the metal or marble; the writer’s mind. It is only through careful chipping away that the work takes form. It is only after editing and living with the work is the work completed. The initial draft is nothing but the birth. I’m going to try to force myself to put these observations to use.
Please, stay in touch.