Courtesy of Bethany House Publishers

The August tour of the CSFF features Offworld, by talented author Robin Parrish. Robin is the author of the Dominion trilogy: Relentless, Fearless,  and Merciless. If you haven’t read the trilogy, then you’re missing out on a fantastic story! Robin continues his talented storytelling in his newest book, Offworld.

Review:

“To see what’s past what we can see from here,” says the astronaut Terry Kessler to the mysterious, silver eyed girl, Mae. That is what Terry and his fellow explorers have been doing for the past several years–going where no astronaut has gone before and that was to Mars. While the mission itself was pretty much flawless, except for Commander Christopher Burke, re-entry was not.

As they approach home on their spaceship, Ares, they loose all contact with Kennedy Space Center. Efforts to reach anyone else–at the space station, at Houston, are futile. Assuming the issue is with their ship, they proceed through re-entry procedures. Earth and the stars vanish, swallowed up by blackness. As the crew tries to wrap their minds around this nasty surprise, their ship loses power, then begins to shake apart as it’s subjected to stresses it was never built to withstand.  They tumble through the darkness, unsure of where they are. Briefly the darkness clears, but descends again as an impact knocks them all unconscious.

Commander Christopher Burke is the first to regain consciousness and this time what he’s experienced hasn’t been one of the mysterious blackouts that has plagued him much of the mission. The blackouts began after he’d gotten lost on Mars for eighteen hours, according to his crew. He can’t reconcile their account with his own; his oxygen would’ve run out long before eighteen hours. Yet here he is, still alive and caught up into another nightmare scenerio. A crash landing, from what the crew can tell, at Kennedy Space Center. A scenario which should have had people swarming around the site.

But as the crew emerges from the remains of the Ares, they only thing that greets them is silence. There isn’t a soul in sight. Kennedy is deserted, and as they soon discover from surveillance tapes, everyone has vanished. There one second and gone the next. From what they can tell, they have been left behind–everyone else taken to destinations unknown. Except for one. As the crew leaves for Houston–drawn by a powerful light that shouldn’t be there but is–they almost literally run into one other person on the car-strewn freeway. Her name is Mae, a girl as she says “fell through the cracks” and has lived her life on the streets, unnoticed by people around her.

But are they really alone? As they make their way to their destination–Houston and the light that draws them like moths to flame–unexplained phenomena appear, threatening their journey and their lives. But just as unexplainable are they avenues of escape that play out along the way. Compelled to find answers increases the likelihood they will become join the missing ones.

But this just isn’t a story about astronauts coming home to a world gone horribly wrong. It’s a story about a community of people that have had no one but themselves for months–yet they don’t really know one another all that well. First Officer Trisha Merriday and Owen Beecham, mission specialist have managed to keep secrets of their own–secrets that could compromise all their mission. Terry’s secret is actually wide open, but his crewmates never really pick up on it–his fear of being alone. Commander Burke has a past that haunts him, but keeps his past to himself.  When Mae joins the group, she’s the sticky gear in a well-oiled machine, a homeless child with no special talents–a burden to be tolerated. Much is not what is seems.

It is also a story of  “to see what’s past what we can see from here” run amuck. Science pushing forward because it can. Science pushing forward without fear of consequences, over-confident in it’s ability to control and understand whatever it is it discovers.

Visit other blog tour participants and see what they have to say:

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Gina Burgess
Canadianladybug
Melissa Carswell
Valerie Comer
Karri Compton
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Linda Gilmore
Beth Goddard
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Ryan Heart
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Julie
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Dawn King
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Eve Nielsen (posting later in the week)
Nissa
John W. Otte
Lyn Perry
Steve Rice
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Stephanie
Rachel Starr Thomson
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Dona Watson
Elizabeth Williams

one of the topics in today’s class was epiphanies. Yes, I’ve had my share, probably because I question everything, espcially when it has to do with the church and the why we do what we do, sing what we sing, etc. I’m not one to jump on bandwagons–personally, I take it as my responsibility to try and upset them, to stop them long enough to get people to *THINK* about what it is they’re bandwagoning about.

Epiphanies don’t come if you don’t think and thinking, critical thinking, is a concept not much liked by individuals,  society or the church. Epiphanies upset the status quo, disturb comfort levels, even threaten power. It’s easier to move with the crowd than question it’s direction.

But if you don’t think, how do you learn? If you never learn, how do you grow?  If you’re not growing, aren’t you dying? I don’t think we really reach a place where we just coast along; I think we’re always moving forward or back.

But thinking can lead to eureka! moments and that can lead to–gasp!–change! and for many people, that is a something too horrible to comtemplate.

What a sad way to live. Or maybe it’s just exist.

Epiphanies keep me on my toes, let me know my mind is still functional and sometimes send me reeling.

And for me, that is a good thing.

“I spend most of my time looking out the window.” (The Faith of A Writer pg. 138).

I like this quote from Joyce Carol Oates–it states what is, I think, an overlooked aspect of writing and that is just sitting and thinking, letting the imagination roam free, not worrying about words on a page.

Allowing imagination to roam free, to explore nooks and crannies, I think, can be just as important as typing words on a page–how does one get the words if not from the imagination? Movies in the mind? Take notes as you go, if you must, but allowing the imp called Imagination freedom to explore–to discover who these people collectively known as characters are, and what or where is the world in which they live?

“…our private places are those, that, when we seek entry, we are never turned away.” (pg. 138)

This is a paraphrase of Robert Frost’s in the same book, and this resonates with me too. It can be a physical place or a mental one, but they are sanctuaries, places where the problems of life can be locked out, at least for a little while. But key is, I can never be turned away. Ever.  I like that bit of control.

on this whole writing thing. As the last week of my semester-in-five-weeks class comes to a close, my *muse* has fled for quieter, less demanding quarters. She’s not answering, no matter how much I bang on the mental door and try to peer into darkened windows.

It’s not a surprise, really. Normally, she works in binges–several thousand words in a sitting, followed by rewriting until the piece is as good as she think she can currently do. Then she moves onto the next several thousand words, rewrite, rewrite, rewrite, repeat the cycle.It’s a cycle that’s worked well over the years, or at least the two, 3 inch, 3 ring binders full of published works alludes to it being a workable system.

The five week creativity on demand has been a rough change of pace, of the entire system for my muse. Not enough time to spend rewriting to the level she has gotten accustomed too and she’s a bit embarrassed by what she posted at workshops.Not up to her standard, she believes.

Writing in three different genres in five weeks has also been a stretch, in multiple directions, especially with the poetry writing. That was a totally green area, but she’s learned a lot and it will be helpful in other writing…providing she ever returns. Every once in a while a padded footfall is heard as she scampers from one darkened cottage room to another; subtlety is a trait she’s really yet to master.

But once class is over and she’s had time to catch her breath and regain her footing, she’ll be a stronger muse. On one hand, there’s been way too much creativity on demand–something she’s not used to. Ideas need to marinate for awhile, different flavors and textures beginning to blend and stew for a time before words, sentences and paragraphs are ready to be set out on the page and consumed by the reader.

On the other hand, she’s learned a bit about writing poetry, something she had really avoided up to now because it intimidated her. It still intimidates her, but she did it–the poetry–and has survived and knows if she works at it, she’ll get better with it. It’s a challenge she’s more willing to take on, thanks to her semester in 5 weeks.

This last week, she’ll muster up the strength to re-write what needs to be re-written (all of it, but she knew that when she posted it), but then she’ll need to take a breather for a bit. Slow down. Re-examine what she’s learned these last five weeks, and begin to incorporate the new knowledge into her way of doing things–binge write, re-write, re-write, re-write and repeat.

According to Ray Bradbury, hate and love are the strongest motivations a character can have. Actually, it is the zest that drives both that motivates a character from beginning to end in a story. (My paraphrase, Zen in the Art of Writing, expanded edition, pgs. 6-7).

What I had never thought of is that anger can be as much motivated by zest as love. Zest, for me, has a good connotation, joy of living, passionate about what you do, etc.

I supposed, on second thought, being passionate about what you do can also be driven by hate, a mind-bending thought, esp. before 8am.

Maybe its because I’ve never really thought about writing a character motivated by hate. Anger, yes, hate, not so much. Why? Not sure. I suspect it has to do with not wanting to mentally dwell on or inhabit a character that is motivated by such a negative emotion. Character emotions, for me anyway, can seep over into real life and I’m not sure, at this point, how to guard against it. (It’s why I don’t like watching emotionally wrenching movies–I can’t separate what’s on the screen from my own emotions, an annoying trait which leaves me mentally and emotionally  exhausted).

But I can see his point–how hate is as strong an emotion as love and just as strong a motivator. But both love and hate are part of complex relationships; emotions that are far more tightly bound than most people realize. Both emotions that can land a character into situations in which there seems to be no escape, but one must be found, or else there is no story.

Two of the books I’ve read for writing class are: The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes by Jack Bickman and Zen and the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury. Reading these two books has re-inforced what I realized a long time ago–writing advice is contradictory at times; it changes with the beliefs of the advisor.

One contradictory piece of advice had to do with characters. Bickman doesn’t believe in characters taking over a story; Bradbury chats with his, catching up on the past.

Both books are full of good advice; but not every piece of advice in every last book on writing will be useful to every author. Writing styles vary widely; what works for one won’t work for another. But some advice is universal: writers write and each writer is responsible for writing to the best of his ability.

So. What, exactly, is a writer to do with advice that is at opposite ends of the spectrum?

What has worked for me, is to “just write” (advice I think all published authors agree on). As I’ve written over the years, I’ve learned what works and what doesn’t, processes that don’t remain static over time (just to keep things interesting.) I lean a bit toward the Ray way thinking with characters; treat them as real, allowing them to “talk” and tell the story their way if need be.

I think it’s another way of allowing imagination to run; a giving up control, if you will. Seeing a situation through another’s eyes, walking in their shoes, for an overly cliched observation. The way I write best is to assume the character’s skin, seeing their world through their eyes, experiencing their emotions.

At the same time, it doesn’t mean I’m not responsible for what plays out on the page. Characters running amok, hijacking the story if you will, doesn’t mean I abdicate the responsibility for a well-crafted story, written to the best of my ability. If I expect people to read my writings, then I also think I need to treat that time with respect–earning the right to be heard; in this case, read.

So for me, the way I write, at least at for now, lies somewhere in between the advice of the two. While I do listen to my characters, I can’t use them as an excuse for drivel on the page.

Post 5 on the number 5 on day 5 of the assignement.

Five. Good number, five. The number of people in my family. Fingers on a hand that is grasped in friendship or curled into a fist in not so friendly situations. It’s also an odd number–what to do w/ the fifth person when the booth or table sits four? (Stick him in a chair in the traffic lane, usually). Amusement park rides? Squished in the back seat of  a car–yes, there’s a seatbelt for a fifth, claims are made about roominess for 5 adults, but I don’t think anyone really believes at some point in time 3 adults will actually test those claims.

Five is where community is really put to a test, I think, for there is potential for a majority rule–one side to exert their will on another. No chance for a tie or a draw, just winners and losers. Unless the majority is more concerned with the common good, strife will ensue, eventually, between the two groups.

With five, it takes effort to maintain the peace. For the majority not to take advantage of their position of authority; for the minority, not to plan and plot to wrestle power away, plot revenge, whine about their lot in life. It takes extra effort to include that odd person out–the one relgated to always riding the rides alone or with a stranger or being pummeled by passersby that don’t take the extra effort to walk around the temporary obstacle.

Five is where the truly hard work of community begins.

4. Four. For. Fore.

No matter how I type it, I’m still drawing a blank on a post worthy of the number 4. I did a lot of writing yesterday and in the process used up today’s creative quota as well. Must be why I can’t think of anything clever to post.

Well, thoughts are going through my head, but are so flighty it’s somewhat embarrassing. I mean, what’s up with the word four? or is it for? Fore? Same pronunciation, but different spellings. Same with the word two, to, and too. Or pare, pair, and pear.

What’s up with that? Post has different meanings–something written for a blog, part of a fence, a position the rider takes while riding a horse (English style), but is spelled the same.

Why?

Do, due, dew.

By, Bye, Buy.

But date (number on a calendar–like 4!), date–something to eat, and date–male and female pairing (paring, pearing?) activity, is still spelled the same, no matter what the context.

Then there are words like read/reed or red/read, where the ‘r-e-a-d’ is spelled the same, but pronounced completely different.

::sigh::

Confusing, yet fascinating all at the same time.

Blame the rambling thoughts on the word four. For. Fore!

More thoughts:

I also think 4 is the beginning of the harder work of community. More thoughts, more personalities, but still an even number, so power plays may be a bit more difficult. But the circle has expanded to included 4 individuals with personalities and thoughts of their own. It’s a number that lends itself to equality, in that, there is no one left out if pairing up begins.

Thoughts on three:

Triangle, tricycle, tripod, Trinity, threesome, trio–I know there are others, but that list is what pops into my mind right now.

Trio, Trinity, Threesome=community. The Trinity=3-in-1; a community separate yet single, a complex relationship that is fascinating, yet beyond our comprehension.

Trio, threesome. Stronger than two. Community builds, each person adding to the layer with their own unique talents, outlooks, strengths and ideas.

Stability also comes to mind–tricycles, tripod.

Trio-more depth, more harmony.

Such are my brief thoughts on three.

Day two of the five day writing exercise, using the numbers 1-5.

Thoughts on two:

Pairs-pairs of shoes for two feet. Two eyes, two ears. Companionship. The beginnings of family or community. Communication must take place in order for the pairing to work–both must listen, both must talk.

Since we’re heading for the zoo this morning, field trip!, Noah’s ark and the animals two by two come to mind.

Two, with the same goal(s) accomplish more than one. Two minds, working on the same problem, have more ideas to draw from, more potential for reaching a good conclusion–or bad one, if all the ideas fall through.

Such are my ideas on 2 at this early morning hour. If I think of more, I’ll add them later.