Monthly Archives: August 2013

It Could’ve Been Worse – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Roger Bultot

copyright Roger Bultot

It Could’ve Been Worse

“It could’ve been worse,” I said.

Her eyes machine-gunned daggers at me. “Worse? I can’t walk around with a chipped fingernail.”

A bolt of lightning shot out of the blue sky, exploding the front-yard maple.

“My car!” she screamed, as we picked ourselves off the road. “It’s only six months old.”

“At least you weren’t in it. It could’ve been worse.”

More lightning bolts shot down, hitting nearby houses, and the sky darkened with the shapes of hundreds of alien craft.

“It could be—”

She punched me. It could have been worse; at least she went for the face.


A Stormy Day at the Beach

Although this is a fiction blog, I occasionally do posts about real life: things that happen to me. This is one of those. Today, I went to Daecheon Beach with some friends. It is probably the most famous beach on Korea’s west coast and also hosts a very popular Mud Festival every year, although the beach itself is not muddy.

aka The Festival of the Gray Zombies

aka The Festival of a Million Gray Zombies

However, today we just went to swim. We got there about 11 in the morning, just as the sky was getting very dark.

Daecheon Beach

Daecheon Beach

A minute or so after we arrived, it started to rain. There were people swimming, but soon, as lightning flashed on the horizon and thunder rumbled, the lifeguards started ordering everyone out of the water.

I waited a long time to catch a picture of the lightning, but it was too quick for me.

I waited a long time to catch a picture of the lightning, but it was too quick for me.

At this point, the rain let up a little and I went out of the coffee shop where we were sheltering to find my friends who had come in another car. I had just found them when the storm really hit in earnest.

Daecheon Beach

I had gone down to the beach to find a friend who had gone swimming and was forced to shelter under a pavilion while the wind picked up and the rain poured down in buckets. Emergencies sirens were going off and the lightning began to strike closer and more frequently. About the time when it struck on the beach itself, I realized that it probably wasn’t good we were hiding under a wet metal framework. I could imagine it getting struck at any moment.

The rain decreased for a moment and we made it back to the coffee shop to meet up with the others.

Daecheon Beach

After a while of sitting around, we decided to go to a jjimjilbang nearby to at least do something interesting. The rain had let up a bit at this point, so we started walking. Of course, it was mostly clear before we got there, so in the end, we just went to beach anyway. After that, the weather was perfect. It just goes to show that you can never trust the weather in Korea, especially in the summer.

And a wonderful, tired, sunburnt time was had by all.

And a wonderful, tired, sunburnt time was had by all.


What would you do if you were “Alone on a Boat”?

Today the 10th installment of “Alone on a Boat” came out . It is a collaborative story between Sharmishtha Basu and myself. Please read the latest chapter (and all the previous ones) here at Sharmistha’s blog:

Our heroine, Angelique is quite a spunky girl. We know this because she’s 20 and sailing around the world by herself. I’m curious what you would have done in her situation.  Take my quiz, then find out how close you are to Angelique.

copyright Sharmishtha Basu

copyright Sharmishtha Basu

1. You are sailing your boat and see a man floating in the water, clinging to wreckage. Do you:

  1. Pick him up (I only pick up hitchhikers in the middle of the ocean)
  2. Throw at Coke bottle at his head as you sail by (Shipwrecked? Ain’t nobody got time for that)
  3. Call the police and hope they find him in time (I want to help, but not THAT much)
  4. Pick him up, then hold him for ransom (Money, money, money…)

2. You are kidnapped by two men who have you tied up in your bedroom. Do you:

  1. Take a nap (Getting kidnapped is tiring)
  2. Cry and act helpless (Yay, I’m a damsel in distress!)
  3. Get the distress beacon from the bedside table (I’m a Lara Croft wannabe)
  4. Tell them your father is rich and will ransom you (Money solves all problems)

3. Your kidnappers have taken you to a jungle temple and you’ve just seen them get eaten by a huge monster. Do you:

  1. Scream your lungs out, alerting the monster to your occasion.  (WWABGIAHMD: What Would A Blond Girl In A Horror Movie Do?)
  2. Take a nap. (Hey, that was a long hike through the jungle)
  3. Run away (Duh…)
  4. Grab the kidnapper’s fallen machete and go Bruce Willis on that monster (I’m sick of these **** monsters in this **** temple!)

4. You come across a strange man in the woods who says he’ll help you. Do you:

  1. Kill him. (Don’t mess around: I believe in Stranger Danger)
  2. Go with him. (You’re desperate. Gotta take the chance).
  3. Tie him up and leave him as monster bait (Better him than you)
  4. Ask him if he has a phone so you can call someone else (I need help, but I’m picky)

5. You find yourself in a temple filled with gold and gems. You’ve been warned that if you steal anything, you’ll be hunted down.

  1. Get your running shoes on, grab the biggest gem and and start sprinting. (High school gym class, don’t fail me now)
  2. Make a note of the temple’s coordinates to come back later with dynamite. (With Lara Croft AND Indiana Jones)
  3. Take a nap (Treasure makes you sleepy)
  4. Don’t take anything (Are you crazy? You saw the kidnappers get slaughtered)

 

Okay, tabulate your answers. Angelique’s actions were: 1, 3, 3, 2, 4. If you chose any of the other choices, you are most likely sociopathic, insanely greedy, or possibly narcoleptic.

If you haven’t read the story yet and want to catch up, click here.

jungle night

 

 

 

 

 


Interview with a Traitor

This is a story that I promised to do for Nightlake for winning my Story Premise Challenge that I held back in May. I apologize that it’s been so long. This story is similar to what she had asked for, although not exactly, so I hope it will be acceptable.

North Korean flags

Interview with a Traitor

It wasn’t easy, but I finally got it: an interview with the UK’s most notorious defector, Steven T. Blacker, in his new home in Wonsan, North Korea. I had been to North Korea once before but had not been able to track him down. This time, I was told through government channels that he would agree to an interview. I flew to Pyongyang through Beijing and met my guides: the soft-spoken but sharp-eyed Miss Kang and the frequently-smiling, quiet Mr. Ryu. We drove to Wonsan the next day along a country highway sparsely filled with trucks, military vehicles and the occasional passenger car.

Steven Blacker’s apartment was on the tenth floor of one of the taller apartment buildings in the city and his living room window looked out over Wonsan harbor. He was a slim, red-haired man with an easy smile and a friendly nature. He introduced me to his wife, a North Korean woman named Kim Sun-Nam who bowed, but did not smile at me.

Wonsan, North Korea

Wonsan, North Korea [*]

I had been hoping to interview Mr. Blacker in private, in order to get at some of the motivations he had for defecting, as well as some of the actual living conditions in North Korea—something he might not be comfortable talking about in front of government minders. I soon realized that privacy was going to be impossible. My guides not only insisted on staying during the interview, but also recording the conversation.

So, with their tape recorder and my digital recorder sitting on the table, we began. Mr. Blacker’s wife brought us beer and snacks but I was anxious to begin.

“Thank you for allowing me to meet with you,” I said, trying to get the formalities out of the way. He merely nodded. “So, how is life here?”

“It’s good,” he said. “Really good.” When I pressed him to elaborate, he said, “Life is much simpler here. I teach English to government officials and help them as they need it and besides that, I’m left alone to just live my life. I do some writing, photography. I have a car and we can travel more or less freely in the area. It’s a good life.”

I thought of the high price that good life had cost, but I decided to get into that later.

“I’ve heard bits and pieces of your story, Mr. Blacker—how you came here originally undercover and eventually defected. Do you mind telling me again, in your own words?”

“Not at all,” he said, taking a swig of beer. “As you probably know, I worked for MI-6 for ten years. I came here posing as a photojournalist. The idea was to pretend to make a documentary about rural North Korean life but actually try to recruit local contacts and slowly try to build a network of informants. I was here for about a month.”

“So what made you want to defect?” I asked.

“A lot of things, I guess,” he said. “For one thing, The DPRK is nothing like we’ve been told. We’ve been force-fed a diet of propaganda about the ‘Axis of Evil’. If you ask anyone in the West who the evilest people in the world are, they will probably say North Koreans. We have this mental image of a whole country working towards the downfall of the rest of the world.

“But when I got here, I saw through that in a second. They’re just people, like anyone else, and some of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met. I have known people back in the West with more money and possessions than some people here could even dream of, and yet they hoard it all for themselves. I learned true generosity here.”

“So you made the decision after only a month?” I asked.

“No, although by the time the month was up and I returned home, the idea had been planted in my mind. It was a tiny seed of discontent with my life and the crazy, audacious idea of changing it. Haven’t you ever wanted to just leave it all behind? Forget the daily grind and bustle and stress and find a simpler life?”

“But you could have done that anywhere. Why didn’t you just retire honorably and move to Fiji or somewhere?”

He shrugged. “I fell in love with the culture and the people here. If you’ve never lived here, you think of the DPRK as a government, or an ideology, or a threat. I saw the people and the rich culture they have. It hooked me.”

“Do you ever regret the decision?” I asked.

For a moment, I thought I had caught him off guard. He hesitated and I could tell that he was debating what to say. So, he did have some regrets. After a few seconds, he said, “No. No, I don’t regret it. I might have done some things differently though, if I had to do it all again.” I asked what he meant, but he refused to elaborate.

“It was reported that you defected in Beijing, at the North Korean embassy. Why didn’t you do it here, when you in the country?”

“I came here with a team—if I had declared my intention to defect here, my teammates would have been imprisoned. It was just easier out of the country.”

I thought it was time to get into some of the deeper issues, or at least poke at them and see how Mr. Blacker would respond. “How would you respond to people who call you a traitor?”

He leaned forward and set his beer bottle down heavily on the table. “Look,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “I didn’t come here to sell out my country. This was a personal choice, and it reflected a change I wanted to make in my own life. That’s all.”

I thought his use of the phrase “personal choice” was highly ironic, considering we were in a country where personal freedom was severely limited. “Did you give top secret intelligence to North Korea?” I asked.

He looked annoyed and I thought he was going to refuse to answer, but then he just glanced off to the side and shrugged slightly. “I didn’t bring intelligence with me, if that’s what you mean. I answered their questions—that’s all.”

“But surely, you must have given them classified information—”

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked, cutting me off.

Hundreds, I thought. “What do you think of North Korea’s human rights abuses?”

“Western propaganda,” he said, although I thought I saw his gaze flick momentarily to my guides. “You want to talk about human rights abuses? What about the US? You’re an American, right? Sure, they imprison people here for plotting against the government, but what country doesn’t? The DPRK has never attacked another country ever. Can you say that about the US or the UK? The US is currently engaged in conflicts in over seventy countries, either officially or unofficially. A lot of them were ones they started.”

“That’s debatable,” I said, “but what about the Korean War?” I asked. “The North invaded South Korea first.”

“That was a civil war though,” Mr. Black countered. “Even today, both the North and South consider Korea to be one, temporarily divided country. During the war, the North was not invading a foreign country; it was merely attempting to put down rebellious factions in its own country. No one asked any other country to get involved.”

“Still, do you deny that there are concentration camps here where they torture political prisoners and their families?” I glanced over at the government officials. I could tell they were getting a little restless and Miss Kang looked on the edge of jumping in to stop the interview.

“What about Guantanamo Bay, or the other secret prisons the US and NATO have scattered around the world? The public doesn’t know about all of them, but trust me, they’re there. Is that any worse?”

“So you don’t deny the North has concentration camps?” I asked. Miss Kang stood up but I waved for her to sit back down. “Fine, fine. I take back the question.” I sensed that the interview was going to end soon, but if I asked any of the tough questions I wanted to, I feared that Miss Kang would step in. “Is there anything you miss from back home?”

“Of course,” Mr. Blacker said. “Life is never perfect. I miss my family and I miss the foods I grew up with. I miss Christmas.”

“One last question,” I said. “How do you see yourself, Mr. Blacker? What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I see an ordinary man who was brave enough to follow his convictions,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect anyone else to do what I did, or at least not many. As for myself, I think I did the right thing.”

“Even though you betrayed the trust of your country to do it?”

“You have to be true to yourself first,” he said.

“Even when you have to break oaths that you have sworn?”

“People break their oaths all the time when they get divorced,” he said. “It’s painful, but sometimes it’s necessary. My situation is not ideal, but we each have to live life as we see best.”

After we left the Blackers’ apartment, my guides and I had dinner in Wonsan and then drove back to Pyongyang as it was getting dark.

“Are you satisfied with your interview?” Miss Kang asked.

“I think it went okay,” I said. I had not gotten what I’d expected, but now, looking back, I wasn’t entirely sure what I had been expecting.

“He is a good man,” she said. “He has a strong spirit.”

“Would you think that of someone who betrayed your country and gave its secrets to your enemies?” I asked. She did not answer.

I thought about Steven Blacker all the way back to New York. He had made some good points, but I still could not make myself agree with him. In my mind, he was still a traitor—someone who had betrayed the trust of his country. Still, he had made me think. The world is not as black and white as we might believe, or wish it to be.


Tecumseh’s Pariah – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Renee Heath

copyright Renee Heath

Tecumseh’s Pariah

I haven’t returned to Tecumseh, Michigan since. That hydrant and its sour-sick memories still haunt me: the night 16-year-old me staggered home from partying and crossed the abandoned tracks.

The sudden rush of a steam engine. The scream of a whistle. Hot, sooty wind.

I cowered behind the hydrant—felt it suddenly twist and grasp at me with steely arms. All I could do was scream.

The police found me, jeans wet and hysterical. No one believed me. “Been drinking?” they asked.

I became “that kid”, the one who pissed himself over ghosts.

Sometimes all you can do is leave.

 


Getting Naked with Strangers (in Korea)

If you want to see naked strangers in real life, your choices are fairly limited. Or perhaps I should say, there are few places where you have to endure seeing naked strangers. In Korea, it’s the jjimjilbang, or sauna/public bath. Of course, lots of countries have public baths, but here is how things work in the Korean version.

In Korea, going to a jjimjilbang (steam room) can be a whole day experience. For one thing, what is often referred to simply as a jjimjilbang is actually a lot of things rolled into one. Here’s the process:

Step 1:

Pay your entrance fee and get a uniform and key. The uniform is a pair of light cotton shorts and a t-shirt. At the place I usually go, they are color-coded for men and women. The key is on a plastic ring so you can put it around your wrist in the shower.

although hopefully not pink.

although hopefully it’s not pink.

Step 2:

The key has a number on it. First you take off your shoes and lock them in the shoe locker of the corresponding number.

The shoe lockers at my favorite jjimjilbang, Spa LaQua

The shoe lockers at my favorite jjimjilbang, Spa LaQua

Step 3:

At this point, men and women say good-bye to each other and go into separate changing rooms. You put your clothes and uniform into the locker with your number on it. The problem with this is you cannot choose your own locker. Last time, my locker was right next to an open window that overlooked an apartment complex. At night. Someone messed up the design somewhere. Anyway, then you go take a shower.

Step 4:

This is the only naked part and luckily it is separated by gender. You take a shower and have the option of soaking in one of a variety of hot tubs. There are varying temperatures (including a cold pool), often ones with massage jets. The one I go to has an outdoor hot tub, made up to look like a natural hot spring, so it’s nice to sit out there at night and talk.

The baths are the place where you see the most culturally different awkward things. I have no idea what the women’s side is like, but there is a section for lying down on the floor and some men like to sleep there, face up. I have seen two men sleeping next to each other, holding hands. In the context, there was nothing gay about it, since in Korea I could totally imagine two straight men doing that, but it was strange. As well, since Koreans are very big into skin exfoliation, you can pay a guy to rub you down with what is basically a scouring pad and get all your dead skin off. There are some things I will do as a cross-cultural experience, but lying down naked on a table and having a practically naked old man scrub all my dead skin off is not one of them.

Here is typical uniform, including the obligatory Princess Leia-style towel wrapped around the head.

Here is a typical uniform, including the obligatory Princess Leia-style towel wrapped around the head.

Step 5:

When you finally feel like getting out of the baths, you go back up to the changing room, dry off and put on your uniform and then go out to rejoin the women (or men, if you’re a woman). This is the actual jjimjilbang part of it. Here you can go into hot rooms and lie around, sweating a lot. However, there are many other things to do. Such as eat. Most jjimjilbangs have a cafeteria there where you can get drinks and snacks and even full meals. There are massage chairs and pool tables and karaoke booths and places just to sit around and talk or place cards or watch TV. In other words, it’s a spoil-yourself-with-whatever-you-like-best sort of place.

This says, "I went to the jjimjilbang to take a sweat bath eat."

This says, “I went to the jjimjilbang to take a sweat bath eat.”

Personally, I don’t like to sweat that much, so I don’t go into the hot rooms for very long, if at all. My ideal time is to go in the baths for a while, then go up and eat and hang out, and maybe use a massage chair once or twice. Lemonade and boiled eggs are very popular foods in jjimjilbang.

Another good feature about many jjimjilbangs is that the key has a microchip on it, so if you want to buy something, you only have to scan the key and then pay for everything when you leave. This lets you not have to carry money around and so, buy a lot more than you normally would. Win win, right?

Here are the doors to various saunas/hot rooms. They often vary by temperature or by theme.

Here are the doors to various saunas/hot rooms. They vary by temperature or by theme.

Step 6:

Whenever you are tired of having fun, you go down, take another shower to wash off all the sweat, and get changed back into your street clothes. Then you check out and find out with shock just how much money you racked up on food, drink, massage chairs, air hockey, etc.  You leave feeling very, very relaxed. It’s a good time.


Alone on a Boat – Part 9

Part 9 of a collaborative story between myself and Sharmishtha Basu where the main character Angelique is neither on a boat nor alone. At least at the moment.

Here’s what has happened so far: Our heroine Angelique has been kidnapped and brought to a temple in the jungle by two men. They are going to sacrifice her to get through a door to steal a large diamond. However, a huge tentacled monster attacks them before they can. She runs away and finds other monsters, but comes across an old man named John who is Australian but now lives alone on the island. He takes her back to his cave for the night so they will be safe from any monsters or creatures that are around.

But then, a huge multi-headed snake, a naga, attacks in the night, and John has to take her through a secret tunnel into the temple of Lakshmi, where there is gold and gems everywhere, including a huge lotus made of diamonds. Gold nagas stand guard and John says they will attack anyone who tries to steal the treasure.

Sharmishtha has posted all the previous installments here.

Alone on a Boat – Part 9

Angelique lay down to sleep surrounded by millions of dollars worth of gold and gems, not to mention the priceless diamonds that formed the lotus blossom in front of the goddess Lakshmi’s idol.

She was glad when the flare burned out and darkness hid the unobtainable wealth from her. She had meant what she had said to John about not wanting to be rich, but still, now that it was all here in front of her, images of what she could do with such riches kept creeping into her mind.

“There are only about four hours until dawn,” John said out of the darkness. “I’ll keep watch until then.”

“I thought you said this was the safest place we could be—that no monsters could get in here.”

“That’s true,” he said, “but still.”

He is watching because of me, Angelique thought. In case I try to steal something. It gave her an odd feeling.

She woke up to see a long sliver of daylight slicing across the temple floor. John’s figure was silhouetted against it.

Angelique got to her feet and went over to him. “The men who kidnapped me were trying to get in here,” she said. “They seemed to think that only human sacrifice would let them get through this door.”

“Perhaps they were right,” John said, still looking out. “I don’t know how to get in through these doors. However, if you come in the way we did, it is easy to come out this way. The doors push open from the inside. They will not stay open, though. I once came out and left them open. They were shut tight when I returned.”

“What do we do now?” Angelique asked. “Are we safe from monsters now?”

“I don’t know. Yesterday I would have said yes—that they do not come out in the daylight, but then again, I would have said nothing could have found us in my cave. I will try to lead you down to the shore and then you can get away in your boat. I think we can get there in a few hours by a path I know.”

At that moment, the sound of a helicopter broke the morning stillness. It came into view a minute later, a civilian model with Thai markings on it. It landed in the clearing of the temple courtyard, the rotor whipping at the overhanging branches. As soon as it on the ground, the door opened and a muscular, tanned man in his 50s jumped out.

“Dad!” Angelique shouted and ran towards him. He hugged her tightly.

“Are you okay?” he shouted over the noise of the rotor. “I got your distress signal and rented a helicopter as soon as I could. Then we followed the GPS signal. Where’s the boat?”

“Down in a cove. How did you get here so fast?”

“I was in Phuket,” her father said. “Just a few hours away.”

“Were you following me?” she asked.

“Not following, just staying close. Just in case. What happened anyway?”

Angelique led him a little ways from the helicopter and explained everything that had happened, about the two men who had kidnapped her and brought her to the temple.

“How did you get away?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Something attacked them. A creature. Then I ran into John and he helped me.” She introduced John to her father and the two men shook hands.

John had been standing with his back against the temple door while she had been talking to her father, and she suddenly realized that he had been trying to push it closed. Before she could say anything, her father looked up at the temple.

“What is this place, anyway?” He took a step towards the door.

“Dad, don’t. Let’s just go.” It was no good. Her father seemed to have forgotten she was there. He took another step, looking around in amazement. He hadn’t seen the gold and jewels inside yet, but it was only a matter of another few steps.

“Dad, please. Let’s just get out of here. Back to the boat.”

She knew it was useless. Her father’s greatest fantasy was to be the real-life Indiana Jones. He took another step forward and she saw his eyes suddenly widen.

“Mother of Mary,” he said softly, and she knew it was too late.

(to be continued on Friday on Sharmishtha Basu’s blog)

lakshmi


Much Ado About Kudzu – Visual Fiction

Kudzu.

The Scourge of the South and an emerald-green kraken that spreads its leafy tentacles out to overwhelm everything.

It is unstoppable.

Much Ado about Kudzu

*         *         *

“I think I have a way to stop it,” Dr. Freddie Combs said. He was sitting with a group of scientists at the Kudzu Fight Council. It was, somewhat ironically, located in Alaska. The feeling was that kudzu was so dangerous it was best for the Council to employ scientists who were deathly afraid of it. There was no chance of them sympathizing with the enemy that way.

“What’s your idea?” the Director asked.

“Special giant rats,” Dr. Combs said. “All they eat is kudzu. We set them loose in Kentucky and Virginia and soon all the kudzu will be gone.”

“Giant rats? Are you crazy? No one wants giant rats running around. And how do you know they only eat kudzu?”

“That’s all they’ve eaten in our lab tests.”

“What else have you offered them?”

“Nothing, but—”

“Next!” the Director said.

Much Ado about Kudzu

“I saw we just give the affected area up for lost,” another scientist said. “Let’s build a wall around the area, let the people inside deal with it.”

“Kudzu grows over walls.”

“Well, maybe we could put the giant rats on top of the wall . . .”

Another scientist stood up. “I’ve developed a new strain of kudzu that bursts into flames in hot sunlight. We just need to cross-breed it with the kudzu and the problem will solve itself.”

“These are all terrible ideas,” the Director said. “Do any of you have a half-decent idea?”

Much Ado about Kudzu

“I have one that is fool-proof,” a tall, dark scientist named Dr. Brawn said. He had a crazy look in his eye, which in scientific circles is referred at “that Nobel look”. The rest of the room hushed.

“Super kudzu,” Dr. Brawn said. “It is twice as strong as normal kudzu and as smart a brilliant dog, or perhaps a slightly dim 5-year-old. It is also fiercely territorial, so it will easily wipe out the normal kudzu for us.”

“But then what do we do with all this super kudzu?” the Director asked. “The problem will be worse than before.”

“No, because it is be intelligent,” Dr. Brawn said. “We can negotiate with it, then send it to go fight our enemies. We can turn it into an ally.”

“Does . . . it grow as fast as normal kudzu?” the Director asked in a shocked voice.

“Three times faster. However, it does have a critical weakness. It is vulnerable to bullets. One shot will kill 100’ of super kudzu.”

“That is a good feature,” the Director admitted. “Fine, we’ll try it. I can’t think of anything better at least.

“Excellent,” Dr. Brawn said. He patted the place on his chest where his Nobel Prize would soon hang. “This can’t fail. Trust me.”

Much Ado about Kudzu

*         *         *

Four months later, the continental United States was abandoned. Mexico was considering building a huge fence to keep out the super kudzu scourge. Canada had nothing but its cold weather and even that wasn’t an effective barrier anymore, thank you very much global warming. People tried to shoot at the rampaging super kudzu, but after it began to mimic a whimpering puppy, they found they just didn’t have the heart.

Finally, all the survivors who could afford it gathered in a huge underground bunker on the island of Newfoundland and waited, hoping that the kudzu would die out or simply go away. They waited for years. Their phone and Internet went out because no one wanted to go outside to maintain them.

After three years, the debate began: to go outside or not. Some argued that the super kudzu must have killed itself off by now. In any case, it couldn’t have made it over the water to the island. Some questioned why they were in a bunker at all, but more pessimistic individuals shushed them, reminding them of how quickly North America had fallen.

“It’s probably crossed the Atlantic Ocean by now,” some said.

One boy, though, had had enough. “I’m going outside,” he said. He ran for the hatch and began to spin the wheel to open it.

Outside the sun shone brightly and a single tendril of kudzu crept slowly up the stonework towards the soon-to-be-opened hatch . . .

Much Ado About Kudzu

(You can find more information about kudzu here)


Demons vs. Witches: The most ridiculously awesome book you will probably never read

Considering this is a fiction blog, I have not written all that much fiction lately; at least not as much as I used to produce. I will come back, but I’ve been pretty busy and I’m still recovering and catching up on things. I’m sorry if I haven’t read your blog in a while, but I’ll try to soon (it helps if you comment 😉 )

Okay, so the book I’m talking about isn’t called “Demons vs. Witches” but it might as well be. It’s called “The Worm Ouroboros” by E.R. Eddison and it is ridiculous, insane, and awesome.

The Worm Ouroboros cover

Synopsis:

The Demons and Witches are enemies. The Witch king creates a spell which spirits away one of the Demons and so they have to mount a huge, epic quest to recover him resulting in a lot of adventure. Plus, while they are away, the Witches invade Demonland and run amok there.

The Ridiculous: 

1. This story apparently takes place on Mercury. In the prologue, a talking bird comes to the house of a man named Lessingham, in England and takes him to Mercury to see what’s going on there. The thing is, though, that except for one or two times in the first few chapters, Lessingham and the bird are never mentioned again. It’s like the author forgot about them totally.

2. The four main races in this world are the Demons, the Witches, the Goblins, and the Imps. In case you were wondering, the Demons are the good guys. They have horns and one of them named Spitfire apparently breathes fire every now and then. Other than that, they’re pretty much all act human.

3. I actually like the name Spitfire, but naming is an area where Eddison has some issues. The reason is that he came up with the story and characters when he was a teenager and kept them all when he finally wrote the book as an adult. The main characters are Juss, Spitfire, Goldry Bluszco and Brandoch Daha. Actually, the Witches have some cool names, like Corund, Corsus, and Corinius, but there are also characters named Fay Fax Faz, Cargo, and Volle.

The Insane:

1. It is written in what can only be described as “middle English, at best”. It was published in 1922, but Eddison uses language that would have made Shakespeare reach for his dictionary. Here is an example:

“I like not the dirty face of the Ambassador,” said Lord Zigg. “His nose sitteth flat on the face of him as if it were a dab of clay, and I can see pat up his nostrils a summer day’s journey into his head. If’s upper lip bespeak him not a rare spouter of rank fustian, perdition catch me.”

OR

“Ere we leave it,” said Brandoch Daha, “hear what he speaketh concerning Koshtra Belorn. This he beheld from Morna Moruna, whereof he saith: ‘The contery is hylly, sandy, and baren of wood and corne, as forest ful of lynge, mores, and mosses, with stony hilles. Her is a mighty stronge and usid borow for flying serpens in sum baren, hethy, and sandy grownd, and therby the litle round castel of Morna Moruna stondith on Omprenne Edge, as on the limit of the worlde, sore wether beten and yn ruine.”

To be fair, that second quote is mostly from an old book they are reading out of, but you get the idea.

2. The description, the description. Eddison does not leave a thing to the imagination. He describes everything. In the first chapter alone, he spends at least 7 pages describing the throne room and all the main characters, including everything they are wearing. It is quite exhausting.

The Awesome:

You may have gotten the impression that I don’t like this book, but I actually love it. Here’s why:

1. The characters in this story are about the toughest, manliest men there are. I don’t mean that in a sexist way, but this story is written in the mode of a Norse saga and holy cow, do they live up to it. It is literally epic. This book has some of the most awesome battle scenes I’ve ever read. The characters launch huge invasion fleets, get them wrecked to bits, struggle across deserts and wastelands, climb Mt. Everest-sized mountains with no equipment (while fighting off monsters), and generally act like demi-gods as a matter of course.

2. Despite all the blood and action, there is a nuanced side to it. Surprisingly, it’s mostly from the Witches, the bad guys. The Demons are great guys, but relatively uncomplicated. However, the story follows the Witches almost as much as the Demons and you really start to relate to them. Sure, a lot of them are bad, but some are just on the wrong side. There is all kinds of deep, heart-rending conflict and pathos that is really quite well done.

3. It is hilarious in parts. For one thing, the Witches are insanely heavy drinkers and hold massive banquets that go on for pages where they get totally hammered and act like idiots. It’s pretty funny, really. Also (spoiler alert on this 91-year-old story), at the end, once the Demons have vanquished all their foes, they are all sad and depressed. They’ve won and they hate it. But then an enchantress or fairy or resurrects all the Witches and gives the Demons eternal life so they can fight forever. Then they’re happy again. It’s very Valhalla-ish, but the way it’s written in this book is very funny.

worm ouroboros

I would definitely recommend this book, but there is a good chance you won’t read it, mostly because of the language. I don’t blame you: I never would have read it either, normally. I first found it when I was commissioned by a publisher to write a modernized version of it. I was forced to read it and fell in love with it (my version has not made it to print yet, and may never, for various reasons outside my control. But at least I got paid and discovered a good book out of it.) Still, if you’re willing to put up with the language, I guarantee it’s worth it.


The Blair Witch Project it ain’t, but still…

One of the fun bonuses of teaching English in Korea is the chance to teach English camps. I’m only partially sarcastic there. While it does mean more classes to teach once the vacation has started (often with no extra pay), the camp curriculum is often more relaxed and as long as they are well planned, they can be a lot of fun. The one I just finished was at a middle school where the kids were very enthusiastic and a lot of fun to teach. On the second day, we went through movie genres and a few sample scripts and then I got them to write their own movies. They wrote the scripts, practiced them, and then I recorded them on my phone and edited them later. Their English level isn’t super high, but they tried hard. Anyway, here for your viewing pleasure are two of the movies they made. They are about a minute long, each.

1. Number 1: This is a ghost story about a top student who has died and comes back to haunt the 2nd place student in school.

2. Stupidman and the Zombies: This is a zombie comedy where apparently the zombies and normal people can switch quite quickly. I can’t say I totally understand it, since they didn’t explain it to me.

The production values aren’t great, but it was a good activity and gave the students more fun and a better sense of accomplishment than just doing grammar exercises. I had them vote for the best movie in several categories. “Number 1” won hands-down for best acting, all for that scream. There was a third movie too, done by an all-boys group, that had to do with gambling and a lot of people getting shot, but they didn’t want me to post that one.


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