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.
BLAZE BY RICHARD BACHMAN (STEPHEN KING)
Written in 1972-1973, this novel brought me a new appreciation of the ‘master’ as I have never felt before. In this story, Helen Keller could have seen the gifted writer which would emerge on the horror scene.
Surprisingly, this work, in the strictest sense, in not a horror novel. There is a dead accomplice giving Blaze, the main character, a brain-damaged man, advice, but he only exists in Blaze’s mind and memory. What I found remarkable about this work is how King creates a multi-faceted who kidnaps and kills, yet you’re able to get into his mind and past and find sympathy for his actions.
I’m not giving away any more detail. Buy the book and fill the ‘master’s’ coffers. You won’t be disappointed.
WATERSPIDER BY PHILIP K. DICK
Recently I read a short story, Waterspider, by Philip K. Dick, which was part of a collection, The Minority Report and other classic stories.
The reason I write this piece is that, in past posts, I have threatened to write a piece about science fiction writers and how, through their imaginations, predicted science fact. I’m still going to do it, with Arthur C. Clarke at the top of my list. However, Philip K. Dick beat me to the punch in a fascinating short story, Waterspider.
In Dick’s short story, the present is the future and scientists have sent a mission of volunteer prisoners into space, reducing their mass. The problem is, they don’t know how to restore the ship’s mass and its one-inch tall occupants upon arrival to their destination. Apparently, even in the future, some things never change.
However, the scientists remember a period in the past when people, known as pre-cogs, existed. The debate was whether the first pre-cog was Jonathan Swift or H.G. Wells. I’m surprised Jules Verne was not in the running. These individuals have the ability to predict the technology of the future, and one of them predicted a solution to mass recovery. These pre-cogs, with this ability unknown to them, were science fiction writers. The present-future scientists were able to travel to the past and decide to bring Poul Anderson, who, in a short story solved this problem.
These future scientist journey back in time to a convention of science fiction writers and meet a host of pre-cogs, Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, along with a shy Philip K. Dick.
To say the least, this story blew me away. I encourage you to read it, if you can find it.
BEN E. KING AND BACKUP SINGERS
Recently, Ben E. King died at the age of 76. I’m writing this piece in recognition of his life, and one of his classic songs, Stand By Me. But more importantly, in my frame of mind, is to recognize one of the untold singers who added to the music for they shall remain nameless and yet make a lasting contribution to music. Their voices live on in recordings, but their names and lives fad into the past, unknown.
The song, Stand By Me, has long haunted my thoughts for two reasons. First, it became the title of a film adapted from a Stephen King short story, probably one of the best adaptations of one of his works. I won’t go into the details of the story, but if you haven’t seen it, you should give it a try, especially if you are a teenaged boy. There is a special bond portrayed exquisitely described by King.
Secondly, on a more personal note, the song reminds me of a coworker I was fortunate to meet while working at SmithKline Beecham, now GlaxoSmithKline. For a period of a year or so our pharmacology group produced a monthly newsletter. I somehow got involved and was assigned the task of interviewing members of the group to record their biographies. For the most part, they were interesting individuals with a rich life removed from the company. One individual, Mildred, agreed to give me an interview and I remember it to this day, and is the inspiration for this piece.
Mildred was a black woman and I interviewed her somewhere around 1990. With only a high school education, she managed to obtain a job as a lab tech; today that would be impossible. Education is now the starting point long before an interview is obtained. As I recall, she came from a large family and there was not enough money to send her to college, although I thinks some of her siblings did pursue higher education. When I interviewed Mildred, she must have been in her fifties and gained employment in cardiovascular pharmacology with skilled hands and a sharp brain. I had seen her around the labs, but never got to know her until the interview.
She granted me an interview and I am forever grateful for the opportunity to get to know this woman, I am sure, as few of her coworkers knew her. She was an individual associated with stardom, but forever remaining unknown, never reaping the rewards of their contribution.
Mildred while pursuing her science career in Philadelphia, was also a backup singer for recordings during the early years of rock n’ roll. As you all know, Philadelphia was a mecca for music and here before me sat a woman who was part of it. Here was a woman, sitting before me wearing a white lab coat who was an unspoken part of music history. As I sat talking to this woman, I could only imagine the records to which she had contributed. This is the reason that whenever I hear, Stand By Me, I focus on the backup singers and think of Mildred.
RANTS & RAVES: SCIENCE FICTION MOVIES WITH NO BELIEVABLE SCIENCE
This may be the rants of an old man, or the product of age and wisdom. Age and wisdom, really.
Anyway, whatever it is, it is not a commercial for Netflix. But if they want to pay me, the income would be welcome. But I doubt they would see my comments worthy of pecuniary rewards. (There goes three years of high school Latin.)
I have been, of late, watching a great deal of horror and science fiction using Netflix’s instant viewing option. Just a side comment. While watching horror, both American and international, I find that Japan, in my opinion, produces the best horror after my limited sampling. The Ring, The Grudge, both remade by U.S. studios, are Japanese movies. I have viewed other Japanese horror offerings that will scare the hell out of you, not through gore and special effects but through story and setting. Some movies had twists I did not see coming, or circumstances that make you think after the movie is over, and experience which stay with you.
Now, back to science fiction.
I’d like to discuss two recent viewings, The Ring of Fire and 500 MPH Storm, both Netflix offerings and both, I’m sure, originally from a cable channel, but I could be wrong. It has happened before.
The first, The Ring of Fire, takes place in Oregon focusing on a corrupt oil company executive and his daughter, an environmentalist, locked in combat over a drilling venture in the state. The premise has the oil company drilling a well far deeper than they were permitted, and instead of tapping a huge dome of oil, headed for magma. Puncturing the magma dome could set off an event, tied to the volcanoes surrounding the Ring of Fire, triggering an event that would destroy all life on the planet. For those who don’t know, the Ring of Fire boarders the Pacific Ocean and is the most geological active area in the world.
I must be open as to why I found this movie lacking. My published novel, New Moon Rising, involves a catastrophic event also involving the Ring of Fire. First, as I point out in my novel, scientists insist that geological events occurring in the Ring of Fire are unconnected. The movie assumes that every volcano is connected to a source which would cause them all to explode because of the drilling in Oregon. Finally, the method the characters in the movie use to solve the end of life on the planet left me chuckling. View it yourself and see if I’m wrong. Just a side note, in my novel, all is not remedied.
The second video, 500 MPH Storm, makes Plan 9 from Outer Space, a classic in its own right, worthy of Oscars, looking like well thought-out science. The science in this film is nonexistent. The scientific logic escapes me. The special effects were poor, at best. The last comment brings me to the inspiration for this article.
In my opinion, some of the science fiction movies produced today have little to do with science. I know it is fiction, but the inclusion of science fact, not just make it up to fit the story, adds enjoyment to the work. Today’s science fiction movies are ruled by special effect and lack any scientific redeeming qualities.
I enjoy including science fact in the science fiction I write. I feel that it allows the educated reader to become more involved with the story.
What do you think?
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
THOUGHTS
No one in America should suffer abuse because of a preconceived notion.
RANTS & RAVES: TIME WASTED
Those of us advanced in age find time to be more precious now, than we did in our youth. Time used to pursue those final goals not yet met, and of course, those many naps that we find required. Time is precious and that is what brings me to this musing.
I don’t know where I heard this, but I wrote it down so I’m sure it’s true. Okay, I can imagine all below the age of forty tuning out, but I go on. I heard that there is an app you can use to look at the contents of someone’s refrigerator. Really!
And more disturbing, I document that the reporter commented, “Fascinating.”
Give me a f—— break, does this reporter need a life or what. I know, in my youth, if anyone cared to look in my refrigerator they would have the opportunity to gaze upon beer and hot dogs, and perhaps some contents defying description.
What I find disturbing is who would want to show what is in their fridge, and more disturbing is who would want to see it.
I know I’m getting old, but I think our use of the fantastic technology existing today has hit a new low.
What do you think?