Into the Land of Frost

I've always lived in the American South, but my heart resides elsewhere. What exact location, I know not, but my home state of North Carolina is simply too muggy for my liking (among other things...); I long for the snowy, gusty north. Perhaps Ireland, or Scandinavia, or the United Kingdom, or Canada?

But if I remain a citizen of the United States - and I might yet - then I suppose I'll relocate to a major city after college and eventually find lodgings in the upper latitudes of Middle America after I tire of urban life. I'm considering Boston or Seattle or Denver or Chicago, followed by some living abroad in both hot and cold locations - options include France, Finland, Thailand, South Africa, or Iceland - and eventually settling somewhere in the Midwest or Rockies. Preferably in a small cabin packed with mounds of books and a nice hearth.

Currently, I'm in Kane County, Illinois (roughly an hour west of Chicago), and I just walked outside for nearly an hour. It's Christmas Day, four days after Yule (winter solstice), and about 35 degrees Fahrenheit last I checked.

Perfect.

I probably could have been out there for several more hours, if I'd brought earmuffs. I'm naturally extremely tolerant to cold. (Well...my sub-optimal diet might play a minor role there.) People think I'm a polar bear in a human hide, or of Nordic descent, but my ancestry is more Celtic--primarily Irish and Scottish, with a bit of English on my mother's side and a tiny drop of German on my father's. I suppose that's why I "pink" instead of tanning--I become a great scarlet lobster in the sun!

But cold is truly my comfort zone. I do intend to travel - extensively, in fact, and I'll be sure to blog about it - but I'd prefer for my base to be somewhere nice and cool, like Alaska or Montana or Michigan or Ohio.

In other words, I'm having a good time right now.

Lesser-Known Books

Christopher Paolini once gave excellent advice to those seeking less famous readings: ask published authors directly, or browse used bookstores. Both are good ideas, and I have benefited from both--but especially used bookstores.

Plenty of those abound where I live, and I've befriended at least one cashier. At this store, I have found past installments of Year's Best SF, Penguin Classics editions of The Lair of the White Worm and The Jewel of Seven Stars, The Glass Dragon by Irene Radford, several Rachel Neumeier novels, poetry collections by Sylvia Plath and Emily Dickinson, The Mummy by Anne Rice, Secret Windows (a rare nonfiction volume by Stephen King), The Stonor Eagles by William Horwood, Sorcery Rising by Jude Fisher, and The Dragon Queen by Alice Borchardt.

Of course, author recommendations don't hurt. These include The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison and The Book of the Dun Cow by Walter Wangerin, among others.

So don't just stop at what you know--go and explore! You never know what's waiting.

Image: The Rose

Painting a Rose and Other Matters

Earlier this morning, I did what I had resolved to do several days hence: I painted a rose. Using acrylic paints - green and red, with a splash of blue for the petals' shading - I did so in a remarkably brief amount of time.

It was far from perfect. Having said that, it was a step forward for me. Lately I've been trying to achieve more. One can get so stuck in planning things out that one neglects to actually put ideas into practice; I try not to fall into such ruts, but doing very little is startlingly easy. Indeed, I have many passions and interests across the arts and sciences, and so it often requires little effort to leave out something. An average day for me ought to include reading, writing, blogging, drawing, painting, exercise, piano practice, guitar practice, and some coding. It's more difficult than it sounds, jamming all of that into every single day.

Perhaps I need to simplify my days by cutting out a few of those activities, or maybe I just need to become accustomed to them. I suspect both will help.

Summer-loving

Greetings, friends! As of yesterday, I am now done with my spring semester at school. Many who know me ask, "What will you do this summer, Danny?" Well, I have plans to travel a bit--this weekend I'm going to the mountains of North Carolina, and I intend to go to New York City and Toronto with a friend in mid-July, plus a hopeful trip to Florida to visit some old friends at some point before this autumn.

I also intend to resume either music or art lessons, as well as something physical--maybe sword-fighting or ninjutsu, or fencing or archery. A friend recently invited me to take circus acrobatics lessons with them, so that's certainly something to consider. As for guitar, piano, painting, and drawing: I can practice on my own, but lessons may not hurt, if I can afford them.

Believe it or not, I'm even beginning to consider singing once more. It might help my speaking voice, if anything.... I eventually want to be able to sing and play a few basic instruments (piano, guitar, violin) as well as some less "mainstream" ones (bagpipe, mandolin, taiko, erhu). I don't need to be perfect at all of them, but I do enjoy variety. The 'pipes might prove difficult, not only due to being a tough one to play, but due to potential complaints from family or neighbors--those things are loud!

As for painting, I recently painted a flower in a field with oil paints and acrylics (the moral is, don't mix the two if you want an easy task!), and an acrylic dragon head (pictured above), based on a  pair of identical bookends I own. Having bought several more canvases of varying sizes, I fully intend to paint more.

The other great thing? I have more time to read and write (and blog) now! I have several novels and screenplays plotted out or in the works, a bit of which I've actually written in some cases, and a heavy reading list. My own writing is mostly epic fantasy - my first love - but I've also got urban fantasy, science fiction (mainly inter-dimensional stuff and one dealing with neuroscience and cognitive psychology), supernatural horror, and even a few realistic pieces--both dramatic and comedic. Summer will be a good time to write more.

For those interested, my reading list includes the following:

• Elantris, Warbreaker, The Way of Kings, and Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson
• The Name of the Wind, The Wise Man's Fear, and The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss
• The Wish, Fairest, and A Tale of Two Castles by Gail Carson Levine
• Inkspell, Inkdeath, and Reckless by Cornelia Funke
• How the Mind Works by Steven Pinker
• Cosmos by Carl Sagan
• Hyperspace and Physics of the Impossible by Michio Kaku
• Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain
• Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
• The Holy Bible (King James Version)
• The Qur'an (modern English translation)
• Druid Power by Amber Wolfe
• It and The Shining by Stephen King
• Shades of Milk and Honey by Mary Robinette Kowal
• The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton
• ...and more!

I may or may not finish all of those, and it's subject to change, but I'm excited to have more time now!

Additionally, I'm going to see if I can access any horse farms, local or otherwise, within the next few months. I haven't ridden in a couple of years.

One can only hope that all this distracts me from the blazing Southern sun.

Root Differences

When I was in high school, I noticed a curious pattern: one plus three equals four, plus five equals nine, plus seven equals sixteen, and so on. Each whole square was a certain number greater than the next, and the difference between the squares would increase by two every time. When I mentioned this to a math teacher, she either did not see it that way or misunderstood my phrasing, for she dismissed it as simple coincidence, not a natural law. After class, however, I was not convinced. Stubbornness is both a vice and a virtue of mine, and I continued to puzzle over how a series of odd numbers, increasing by two each time, connected to the succession of perfect squares.

Eventually, I drew the pattern out on scrap paper and saw something interesting: each square on a grid increases by the addition of new units to a side; being two-dimensional, they increase by two new units each time--one for each dimension.

We came up with an equation that represented the pattern. Since we want to look at the difference between squares (how much you add to get the next whole square), we added 1 to r, which stands for the square root. There’s the 2 pattern!

(r+1)2 = r2+2r+1

But I was still not fully satisfied. Something felt missing. I reasoned that if one could calculate differences between squares, surely a similar pattern might hold true in three dimensions--that is, whole cubes. The formula would be more difficult to visualize, but fortunately, my friend Ray owned a bowl of small cubes which we used to crack this puzzle. Three new squares would need to be added with each successive layer, and by holding cubes together, we discovered that the edges between sides would also need to be accounted for.

[insert “cube edges” visual]

We determined that the formula is:

(r+1)3 = r3+3r2+2r+1

Applied fascination, when shared with other curious thinkers, spurs the creation of wonders.

Why We Love Dragons

Among various fantasy-geek communities, dragons seem a prevalent source of admiration.

Of course, dragons are awesome.

But why? What has kept them from turning out as, say, vampires did?

I cannot speak for everyone, but I feel that they possess a combination of remarkable traits:

• They often embody elements (usually fire), and the four Classical elements continue to play a role in both fantasy and reality. Some dragons also spit venom or work magic.
• They combine several animalistic features that fascinate humans: flight, scales, horns, a spaded tail, barbels, feathers, fur... (Not all dragons possess all of these aspects, obviously. I am aware of wyverns, drakes, wyrms, knuckers, etc.)
• They are at once distant and nearly human. Whether they have humanlike greed and malevolence (like Smaug) or empathize with human emotions (like Saphira), I find that anything so physically different from us that still thinks like us is something our minds find intriguing.
• They represent flight--literally as well as of the human imagination. Discounting planes and the like, humans cannot fly, and we love to imagine the "what if...?" scenarios of being able to do so.

I'm sure I missed several things, and some fascinations are simply difficult to justify, but these are my two cents at the moment.

Of course, dragons are hugely diverse in literature, cinema, and folklore, as I mentioned, but they will likely always hold a special place in my heart. Perhaps a plug of Oberon Zell-Ravenheart and Ash "LeopardDancer" DeKirk's book, Dragonlore, is in order here. It contains a wealth of information about mythological dragons, from Pa snakes to the Stoorworm to Chinese Lung dragons to the Tarasque, and beyond.

May the stars watch over all of you!

Major Waffling

Ever since my later high school days, I've been indecisive about my career path. Ideally, I'd major in English and minor in Creative Writing. However, I also feel that I ought to take advantage of the presented opportunities to learn new things and secure a career.
I feel that a job in STEM would enable me to further forge paths of research (not to mention pay off loans more quickly), but I feel that the liberal-arts half of my brain would lend me a more rounded education. And besides, don't the sciences require just as much creativity as the arts? Without radical, outside-the-box thinkers, we'd have neither Apple nor Microsoft. Conversely, many successful science-fiction writers had a firm grip on real science. Combining vastly different elements in unique ways is no guarantee of success, but it certainly doesn't seem to harm one's chances or mindset.
I currently intend to double-major in English Literature and Computer Science, with possible minors in any combination of two or three of the following: Classics, Physics, Mathematics, Art, or a foreign language. Eventually, I'd like to write full-time, but I wouldn't mind a job in the software business while my written endeavors take off. I could even blog about technology in addition to writing fiction and screenplays (and occasionally, poetry).
We need to stop pigeonholing careers and educational paths. Often, a fresh perspective is just what the world needs.

Mathematics: The Language of the Universe

"Mathematics is the language in which God has written the universe. - Galileo Galilei

Throughout childhood and adolescence, I often questioned why math was important or relevant. Questioning everything is admirable, but I often stopped before arriving at satisfactory answers. After a time, I began to see math as interesting but often irrelevant to daily life, as did many peers.

I did not realize then that mathematical and philosophical logic are deeply intertwined, that math can be both exhilarating and cathartic, or that the cognitive growth acquired by constantly solving more difficult problems than before can be applied to myriad fields, from medicine to business to theatre to national security. Even when one is not actively calculating numbers, the combination of rigorous logic and unrestrained creativity is a powerful cure to boredom and blockage.

Math is also, in a way, flawless: humans make mistakes, and computing systems may glitch from time to time, but pure, intangible numbers and patterns click perfectly--whether or not we are aware.

Students in a classroom may stare out at a lovely autumn afternoon and wish they were outside, away from pedagogical lectures, but math is everywhere. It is the blueprint for physics, after all.

One of my more mathematically-oriented friends suggested that STEM become STEAM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics), as creativity is a crucial element in the sciences.

So instead of convincing children (particularly girls) that math is difficult tedium, adults need to alter our own mindsets to positively influence the new generation.

Math is beautiful. Math is natural.

Math is fun.

Thoughts on Ambitious First Projects

(Disclaimer: I am not an expert, and these are only my musings and predictions.)

Many budding writers - myself included - are often told to "start small," usually meaning to first sell short stories or poems before progressing to things like screenplays or novels. The latter is often recommended to be restricted to stand-alone novels or films, emphasizing also that said first novel or script should not be too long. (Mostly novels, as screenplays are required to stop at 128 pages.)

But I wonder if that is not always the case. David Farland once suggested to write what one wants to write, be it serial or singular, depending on the individual tales' needs. (Tom Doherty said something similar when he appeared on Writing Excuses.)

For instance, I have several stand-alones and quite a few series mapped out--some being trilogies, others consuming every number between four and seven volumes, and one whopping nine-volume cycle. (The "trilogy of trilogies," as I'm calling it for now, has a more or less definite story arc for each volume, but I won't spoil it here!)

Am I using sequel bait? I'd like to think not, although that isn't always a terrible thing, either. Many of these wrap up one story arc but either open another or are nested within a larger conflict.

My very good friend and mentor recently helped me form the skeleton of a middle-grade comedic fantasy novel (now forming sinews and muscles, in case you wondered). This project holds its own story, but I can see it becoming a trilogy or tetralogy; it's sequel-flexible, like Cornelia Funke's Inkheart or the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. It can stand on its own, but if I feel that an extension can comfortably be added, I won't hesitate. And no, I'm not in it for the money; gods know that I don't make any from writing nowadays.

The other issue is large books. Something like The Stand or War and Peace or Les Misérables or The Count of Monte Cristo. Much like series, starting out by publishing giant novels is said to be difficult. I'm still trying to figure out how to expand my own "novels" (which are way too fast-paced) to a proper scope, but I think the same principle applies of not compromising too much at the expense of one's work. Cuts are necessary, obviously, but one must hew close enough but not too close to separate content from fluff.

The great thing about large novels, in my opinion, is that they can inspire multiple films or even a television series, like many modern YA adaptations or Game of Thrones. One of my current stories is one long novel and three screenplays to capture the entire plot (yes, I adapt my own work).

Of course, this advice may not be fit for all; this is mainly how I view it for my own literary career.

PS. - I'm trying to blog more now. Humblest of apologies for my insanely long and unintentional hiatus.

Backward Plotting

One thing I've struggled to achieve when writing novels and screenplays is what Alexandra Sokoloff calls "plants and payoffs." These are defined as subtly "planting" a plot device early on in the story before using it later to serve some larger goal. J. K. Rowling and Steven Spielberg are both excellent at plants and payoffs.

But how does one contrive such things?

Since my uncle studied Dramatic Writing at NYU, I asked him. He suggested that I try plotting stories from the ending to the opening--in other words, plotting backward. It sounded like a great idea, and it was. I now have a full novel in the works thanks to my uncle's little hack. One thing I'll add is that I actually began with the climax, worked to the closing scene, reread my intended climax to refresh my memory, and worked all the way to the beginning. As of a few weeks back, I'm further than I've ever gotten in crafting a long-form story. I started to write it, but I still need to work on my characters and settings. (Perhaps I'll spill some character-development tricks in future posts, but that's a weak point for me at the moment.)

Historically, I have also struggled with length. I've written (finished) three would-be novels, none of which reached even ten thousand words. Perhaps I tend to rush, but I clearly have an issue with expansion. Character development, more scenes not filled with action, and more complicated plots and subplots will surely help, but the figurative pachyderm might be led out of the chamber if I plot backward and allow myself to "inject" more material between scenes or chapters.

This brought to light another idea: what if I were not only to plot backward, but to actually write the latter scenes early on and piece them together when I finish? This is indeed intriguing, but I have yet to try it out. If it does work, I doubt the pieces will fit together seamlessly at first, but I can always edit.

In Memoriam: Arthur Turbyfill (with poem, "To Arthur")

Last week, a recent but great friend of mine passed away. Arthur Turbyfill, Jr., was one of the most fascinating people I have ever met; this much was apparent even from having only met him in person twice, at pagan circle meetings. A Druid, a poet, a scholar, and a friend, he is already missed by many. When I was looking to join said church, it was he who offered to meet with me over coffee and discuss the different pagan paths and his church.... I really wish we'd had the chance. When I asked him questions, it became clear that his inquisitive nature rivaled even my own, as he could expound like no other. The instance that comes to mind here was my wondering what a particular religious symbol meant. Arthur was uncertain - it was an obscure one - but he knew several others, which could have blossomed into hours of erudite conversation had we the time. And I wish we had.

Today, I attended Arthur's funerary service. The turn-up of friends and family was large but unsurprising, as he was such a well-liked man with such a burning thirst for knowledge. But what's more, he was a friend and mentor to many, with a gentle disposition and open mind. The speakers at the service said he was great at listening with sympathy to others, and that he had even helped to guide young people whose lives had been less than fortunate. From what I saw of him, I definitely believe it. To top it all off, he was known to be an avid reader, and would evidently quote Gandalf from time to time.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the other members of our affiliation, as well as his family, coworkers, and other friends. Much love to his spirit, wherever it may be now. May your journey be fun and fascinating.

Before I close here, I'd like to share my poem "To Arthur" with whatever readers I may have:

------

To Arthur, whom I had the pleasure of meeting twice.

A true Renaissance man,

His thirst for knowledge, for wisdom,

Was insatiable.

To Arthur, named for the noblest of kings,

Yet humble despite his intelligence

And selfless kindheartedness.

Every discussion would leave me

With more questions than answers--

Just the way I prefer them,

For what good would it be

To conclude our quest for enlightenment?

I saw the ice's tip, but the bulk of the berg is now lost.

As true a wizard as any,

Your passing impacts us all.

The world has lost you,

But your friends have not;

Everyone is a bit wiser

For having spoken with you.

And I am grateful.

The Element Encyclopedia Series: A Shoutout

I enjoy many things of which the average Joe has no knowledge. Music by Medwyn Goodall or by Herb Moore, art by Brian Froud, and much obscure literature from thrift stores or annual library blowout sales. Exotic dishes, studies of foreign martial arts. Pagan religions, both in practice and as an educational or historical discipline. Forgotten sciences.

Some of the best books, both for reading and for aethetically inspiring paintings, are often found in Barnes & Noble's bargain rack. While I'm glad for their relatively cheap prices, I cannot help wondering why they ended up on sale, or in some cases, out of print. Myth and Magic by John Howe was among these when I purchased it.

Also waiting on the cheap shelves are any number of the Element Encyclopedia series. They're so vastly informative that I can thumb through one all day and still not know all that there is to know about a particular topic. These include the psychic world, magical creatures, vampires, spells, magical herbs and roots, secret societies, the significances of birthdays, Celts, Native Americans, ghosts and hauntings, and the interpretation of dreams. All of the entries I have read have been fascinating, and many subjects are still largely unknown in the world.

For instance, who knows of the jidra? the guivre? cherufes, lampaluguas, the Lambton worm? (All of these are mythical or mystical organisms, by the way.) Has anyone heard of the Bell Witch, aeromancy, oneiromancy? I believe I might be capable of the last one: dream divination.

Occasionally something will make its way into mainstream culture, such as a black shuck (A.K.A. the Churchyard Grim, a massive shaggy dog used in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban). I was pleased to read about a malevolent spirit from Native American mythology known as the Wendigo, which was used as an antagonist in Stephen King's novel and screenplay Pet Sematary.

John and Caitlin Matthews wrote some of these encyclopedias, and Theresa Cheung did other ones. I believe there are other contributors, but I really do wish to give a shoutout to anyone who reads this blog: these books are amazing. Were they to disappear from print, I would consider it a great loss.

A word of caution, though: the big, heavy versions tend to be poorly bound, and pages detach quite easily from the spines. The smaller, more compact paperback ones are the way to go...although the fragile ones are more likely to contain indexes.

Revived Post from 28 Apr. 2013: "Rain"

Right about now it is sprinkling a bit outside. Not a storm, mind, but the wood of the deck is being peppered with water droplets, becoming dappled like a cheetah's pelt. Many use the phrase "rainy day" as if such denotes something negative; why do they say that sort of thing? I, for one, love wet weather. Warm, cold, or otherwise (depending on my mood), I enjoy dimness and shade. I sometimes even relish the plain-out dark. Perhaps the northern part of England would suit me well, or perhaps Canada's Rain Coast.

Or perhaps a warmer region would be interesting, at least to visit? I have often wondered what a tropical rainforest is like, apart from the vampiric insects. There are many such areas on Earth, but my eyes are currently set on South and Central Americas. The other humid forests of the world would be nice too, but I would likely have to research which areas are safer than others.

That is not to say that nature's showers here are not lovely. I enjoy walking and dancing in the rain; watching it from the kitchen, with or without a window as a barrier; and opening my bedroom window and just lying there on my bed or floor, listening to the wet patter of falling orbs of wet.

Rain also makes me feel creatively inspired. It is great for drawing, writing, and playing musical instruments. Without precipitation, where would we be? Even apart from the matter of plant life, drinking water, and mushroom growth, life would definitely be less interesting. Though I would make the best of it. I would not even know what I was missing, come to think of it...yet rain is a beautiful thing, as it were. Whether anticipated or spontaneous, I relish the damp. And once I am away from a "traditional" neighborhood, I intend to purchase a bit of land to start an organic, self-sustaining farm. I like my neighbors, so my love of solitude is not a personal matter. The simple truth is that I am an introvert. How I look forward to practicing swordplay or archery in a quiet, secluded field, the greatest sound being the drops striking the grass-blades and packed dirt! Or perhaps sheltering with my chickens and goats, or tending to horses while the heavens pour? In any case, it will be beautiful.

Urban areas, of course, can also be pretty to observe as the streets gleam with reflected cafe lights and the slick street-lamps illuminating falling raindrops, and the bookshop windows slick from a deluge. It all sounds lovely, but I would prefer rural, given the choice.

The trees in the forest, with moisture-darkened trunks and lichen, are where I feel I belong. It's only a matter of time, I suppose.

Revived Post from 2 Jan. 2013: "A Post Before School"

I was terribly ill last night, but at least it has granted me an extra day of relative freedom. I was in Chicago and other bits of northern Illinois and some of Wisconsin for about a week, which was nice at parts. My paternal grandparents live in what one might call a pigsty; most of the dishes are filthy, people drink directly from milk cartons, and so forth. They are also generally clueless about the concept of privacy: almost none of the doors are fully capable of staying shut, but they don't bother to fix it. They'll just waltz on in without knocking, or in some cases, they'll knock and then barge through without waiting for a reply. But my maternal grandmother is a lot more sensible when it comes to these things. Her husband died when I was three or so, so I only have her as a maternal grandparent, but she's pretty great for the most part. This post is not meant to say I don't love my paternal family. I just don't like staying with them, which I am forced to do year after year after year - sometimes twice a year - by my father, who seems to know something's wrong but appears to be unwilling to admit it. Which brings me to another point:

I sometimes get loads of reading and writing done over the winter, but this time (although it was partly my own negligence), my dad had us do stuff pretty much every day in order to "enjoy" ourselves. I will admit that the Art Institute and the Museum of Science and Industry both had some interesting stuff...but there was never much time to relax. And in the past he's had a tendency to verbally put down anyone who doesn't want to run all over the place with him. Perhaps it was nice to get some air away from that filthy household, but to me holidays are, at least in part, a chance to rest a bit, which is hard with people barging in every three seconds and dragging you around the big loud city. I appreciate what the guy tried to do, but I don't think that enjoyment ought to be forced. Kind of sucks the whole purpose out of it, just like education.

On another note, I'm reading a really amazing novel by Rachel Neumeier, titled The City in the Lake. The prose is just beautiful and the story fascinates me. I'd recommend it to friends, definitely.

Revived Post from 21 Nov. 2012: "The Last of the Rhinos"

Today, as a follow-up to our San Diego Zoo visit, we experienced the zoo's Safari Park. It focused primarily upon African wildlife. Among the animals we saw were many antelopes - gazelles, gerenuks, impalas, Nile lechwes, blesboks, wildebeests, and bongos, to name but a few - and several African elephants. There was at least one tiger, but we could not spot it (or them). We rode a tram through the African-based deserts and grasslands and saw Rothschild's giraffes and greater flamingos. About halfway through the tour, my heart was broken as I heard about the predicament of the Northern white rhinoceros. There are only eight of them left in captivity and they are believed to be extinct in the wild. Eight.

And this is not due to natural selection or drought: poachers are responsible. This makes me want to weep. Are there horns really that valuable? Rhinos are such beautiful animals in my opinion, and to harm one would be unthinkable. And to murder one simply for its horn! Such a waste, like cutting off the top fin of a blue shark and throwing the fish back.

I dearly hope this sort of tragedy does not happen again, but I doubt that that will be the case.

Revived Post from 18 Oct. 2012: "An Evening in Denmark"

Tonight I was in Denmark, but not really: my school put on a production of the playRosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (a spin-off of Hamlet), and while it was a bit hard to follow at times, I very much enjoyed it. Had I been more efficient earlier on, I would have auditioned for the part of Claudius; however, the fellow who executed the role did so much more beautifully than I imagine I could have done. In any case, I shall soon play the role of William in As You Like It, to which I am looking forward a great deal.

What I wonder now is, What is modern-day Denmark like? Having never been, I am rather curious, for while I do not consider myself to be a tourist in the sense of pointless sightseeing, I may go to Europe someday. There will most likely need to be a reason, but I feel a sort of claustrophobia, having been in the States for such a long time. Said reason will give me an excuse for foreign fresh air. Truth be told, I went to an uncle's wedding in Ireland when I was four years old. There was a stop at some airport in London prior to the Irish landing, but I shall now repeat the phrase: I was four years old. I remember some, but not much, of the journey. It is as if I am bound to this nation, but my bonds weaken as I mature. Soon they will be broken! Soon I will be on the move! Perhaps an acting troupe would be a good idea. Plans are formulating now, but have not been entirely made yet. Acting and traveling are both marvelously fun, so why not?

What I Read During the Debut V: "Four Lines of the End (working title)"

They will rise with wings unfurled;
All of us will be destroyed.
This fate will befall the world
If we dare unlock the void.

What I Read During the Debut IV: "The Prisoner"

We are not equal, you and I.

You took away your own freedom.

You are locked away, confined;

You are my prisoner.

You are on a leash, unbroken

By your mad attempts to flee.

Guilt is the strongest chain,

And bound by it, you’ll not escape.

And I shall never release you:

Even as your mind rusts,

The chains of guilt harden,

Stronger than ever, restraining life.

I need not guard you: the chains will

Hold regardless of my presence

Or absence: more than my captive,

You are bound by your own foul deeds.

What I Read During the Debut III: "The Attack"

You

You

You may feel strong

Powerful

Because you have strength

Of body, not mind

But you are weak

You

You are not strong

You’re pathetic

You worm-fodder

Goat-shit

Cowardly piece of lying hiding scum

You felt tough

On top of the jolly fucking world

On top of me

Because you have a degree

A quarter of a century’s groveling

Wasted on a shiny paper

Tackling youth for a living

Because you have allies

Number is quantity

Not quality

Quality is in your words

Your actions

And they certainly have it

But not a high sort

Beating up adolescents

Does not make you

A strong person

If anything

It makes you the weakest one

But here dwell I

Stewing in frustration

Of the lies you told

And my own blood-kin’s eager belief

Because you’re nothing

Nothing

Insignificant worm

Waste of life

Lying filth

Horrid child-beating scum

Whose very breath is a crime

Against nature

We’re all better off

Without you

I know I am.