Monday, October 17, 2011

Guest post over on PJ Jones Writes

Jubeebee's very first guest blog post is live over on PJ Jones's blog. She writes some brutally funny satire, as well as original comedy novels. Head on over.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Checking in on a catchup Sunday

It's been a while since I've logged any of my progress drafting The Nomad Wilds, partially because I've been rolling so hard I haven't felt the need. This week was the first in three that I've averaged less than a thousand words a day, and that was because circumstances conspired to prevent me from drafting at all on Monday and Tuesday.

And the reason things have been flying along so well is because I finally, after getting about 30,000 words in, have identified the central plot. I have heard that some writers insist on having a plot before they start writing a book, but I refuse to be bound by such notions. Previously, I had thought that Nomads would be a 'smaller' book than BSOH; the central conflict had a more limited scope, and everything just seemed a little less severe. No longer. We've got some serious world-shaking shit going on now, and Brandon and the rest of the crew are in WAY over their heads. The primary antagonists have changed, and their motives are deliciously gray, rather than the stark good vs evil that I was working with before.

So while I had worried earlier in the year that I wasn't going to get Nomads drafted by the end of the year, now I'm thinking that I may get this finished by early December. Which would mark the first time ever that I've met one of my personal deadlines.

In other aspects of the Master Plan, I deloaded about 25lb on squats this week to adjust to my new lifting belt. First workout I hit every rep high, but Thursday I buried dem sumbitches nice and deep, so I'm going to hop on the linear progression train for the next few weeks and see if I can get to a 3 plate squat by Thanksgiving. Can't push lifting too hard because I have a pair of 5k races coming up in the next six weeks, but as long as I drink my milk and don't deadlift the day before the race (yes, I've done it; do not recommend), I should be fine.

And I might as well admit it, my football predictions for this year were juuuust a bit off. Between injuries and bad coaching, the Bears O-line looks worse than it did last year. Cutler and Forte have been playing their balls off, but when the best receiver is an undrafted slot guy, and your best lineman is an injured rookie, you've got problems. And the thing is, all of that would be fine if the defense didn't completely implode over the offseason. Peppers hasn't shown up since week 1, the safety turnstile is spinning so fast it could power a city block, and for all Briggs has complained about wanting a new contract, he sure isn't making a very good case for one. Urlacher can't carry this team anymore, although he's doing his damndest to try.

The good news is the Blackhawks look solid and I've got a date with the Arboretum and a pumpkin patch next weekend. So pop a beer and hunker down; it's time to blitz all the way to the end of the year.

Onward...

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

In which I review a Mideastern fantasy

The Black God's War by Moses Siregar III is the best book I've read this year. The scope of this epic fantasy may not come through in this review, but I'll do my best.

The kingdoms of Rezzia and Pawleon are locked in their tenth year of war, fought mostly around the vast desert canyon at the foot of the Pawelon fortress that guards the entrance to the Pawelon countryside. Both kingdoms sense an end to the war is coming. For Rezzia, their Haizzem, Caio, son of King Vieri, is prophesied to lead the kingdom to victory. For Pawelon, the arrival of Rajah Devak's son Rao, the most powerful sage in memory, promises to save the besieged land from King Vieri's forces. And in the middle of it all, Caio's sister Lucia is haunted by the Black God Danato, one of Rezzia's pantheon of ten gods.

The story is mostly presented from the perspectives of Lucia, Caio, and Rao. The true strength of the book is how even-handed the characters are presented. There are no real evil or good characters, just characters with differing goals and perspectives. Nor are any of the characters archetypes out of an RPG, which is one of my pet peeves with epic fantasy. Siregar plays with his characters perceptions and expectations throughout the book; what is black magic to one character is merely a different way to see the world to a different character.

One of the most magical things about this story is the setting. Rather than the usual northwestern Europe setting, The Black God's War takes place in a location that seems to be an Arabic/Persian/Greek mashup. Think Alexander more than Arthur. Additionally, the magic system is unique and fresh (at least to me), and is a welcome change from your normal ritualistic spellcasting.

Honestly, this is the hardest review I've had to write because I feel like I'm repeating myself. Everything, characters, motives, setting, plot, message, philosophy, fight scenes, love interests, everything in this book is start to finish good. If any element stands above the rest it's probably the magic system, which is closely tied to the overall philosophy and plot, yet it remains subtle enough to stay out of the way of the story.

If I was a professional reviewer I'd have more to say, but I'm not so I'll say this. The Black God's War is the best new fantasy book you can buy, and I include my own novel in that statement. I highly recommend it.

5/5

(My review policy)

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Strength therapy

Tonight I deadlifted 300lb for a set of 5.

In strength training terms, that's like running a 9:30 mile. Not everyone can do it, but you can throw a rock in your local high school athletic department and hit a dozen guys who can do better. But for me, it's a big deal.

When I was 17 I tore a muscle in my lower back. I had no athletic history, and basically did everything you're not supposed to do with a muscle tear. The pain got progressively worse over the course of several months. It would wake me up at night, and it took up to twenty minutes to get out of bed. I couldn't stand fully upright, and I developed a limp.

More than a year later my family saved up enough to get me an MRI. We didn't have health insurance, so it took a while. Prognosis was that the second degree muscle tear had healed improperly, developed significant scar tissue, and was essentially folded upon itself.

I finally made it into physical therapy during the summer I turned 19. It was eight weeks of hell. The right side of my pelvis sat about 3/4" higher than the left, and was twisted forward about 10 degrees. Therapy was supposed to fix that, and it did, mostly by brute force. Breaking up the scar tissue was the worst part.

But for the three years after that, the injury never really got better. The therapist gave me some stretches to do, and told me to do some core exercises when the pain got really bad. But I was in college and the rec center was intimidating, so I did enough to manage the pain and gritted through it.

Sometimes at night when it was flaring up and I was lying on the floor because my bed felt like a knife in my back I thought about how unfair it was that I had another sixty-odd years of living in pain every day. Other people didn't have to wince whenever they got into a car, or make a plan when they wanted to lie down or stand up. Other people could sneeze or cough without feeling like they'd been hit with an ice pick. It was very, very frustrating.

But one day in spring of 2007, a few months after I graduated college, I felt a flare up coming on while I was sitting at my computer. They always started as a sort of hot tightness just above my hip. And I must have been fed up already that day because I just could not take it anymore. Swearing my head off, I looked up some real exercises and got down on the floor. If I hurt because I was weak, motherfucker, I'm not going to be weak anymore.

A half hour later, I had done 7 situps and 3 pushups. It hurt so much I don't remember much except the last situp. Staring at the ceiling, sun glaring through the window, knowing that moving would hurt that much more, trying to convince myself that doing ONE MORE situp would pay off in the long run. So I did it.

The next day I bought a couple of gallons of water to use as weights because I was too intimidated to buy dumbbells. I told myself that I'd try doing exercises every other day for six weeks, and if things got better, I'd stick with it.

They did, and I did.

I went from bodyweight exercises to dumbbells, dumbbells to machines, machines to barbells. It took a couple of years before I stopped having flare ups on a regular basis. They're still a possibility now; that scar tissue won't go away without surgery, but when they happen I know a routine that smooths them out in one week.

Eight years ago my physical therapist told me to strengthen my core to manage the pain. Tonight I deadlifted 300 pounds, and there was no pain.