The Metaphysician

It is day 3 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge and I have a raft of ideas for posts on my big board, but none of those are ringing my bells this morning.  Instead, my mind keeps wandering off to think about all the other blogs that I've been reading and why those are the ones I chose.

There are nearly 1,000 people participating in the challenge this month, nearly 1,000 distinct points of view offering me a glimpse of their worlds, and I can't read them all.  So I peruse all the offerings, steering away from anything about sports, business that doesn't apply to publishing and anything that refers to organized religion.

If there is one thing on this Earth that doesn't need organizing, it's religion.  Faith is a sprawling mess and trying to contain it or codify it is a fool's errand.  And don't even get me started on sports, I live with a sports fiend and watch way more of them than I like.  Let me just say here that most of today's top athletes are whining babies who play a game - FOR A LIVING - and complain it about it ceaselessly.  Grow up or get a real job, a REAL job would cure all those divas right quick.

So, what are the posts that draw in my eyes?  Anything quirky, someone posted about the color orange yesterday and I clicked on that right away; I'm also attracted to posts encouraging people to be bolder, crazier and more vivid in their everyday lives.  But the ones I tend to click most are the posts that speak to the esoteric energies of existence; visualization, magnetization and manifestation.

I read Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach when I was in my early teens and saw right away the many wisdoms in that book.  My family was Catholic before the divorce, my mom used to work for the diocese but many experiences there soured her on that religion.  I am the youngest child and the only one who was never baptized, so I did not get the dreaded catechism that my older siblings had to endure.

What I did get was a mom who spent years shopping for a new religion, one that spoke to her in a truthful voice without any hidden agendas.  As a kid, my absolute favorite was the Holy Rollers, finally a church that encouraged fidgeting!  And they gave us Mary Janes after Sunday school.

Mom eventually found a church that satisfied her but could never understand how that experience of faith shopping drove me away from religion altogether.  It never took me away from God, in fact I think it moved me much closer, once I eliminated the middle man.  But true religion is inside me, where God resides inside me, and it moves with me wherever I go.

Since my young mind was never trained to listen to the tenets of major religions, it had the freedom to travel down many spiritual roads, just to see where they led.  All roads lead to energy in one form or another, the understanding that everything is energy and that energy is easily manipulated forms the basis of my personal religion.

That awareness of energy formed the matrix from which Solstice emerged, the land itself was formed by small bits of matter being caught in a net of energy and is held together by the combined energies of the light stealers.  The magicks of Solstice are an everyday fact of life, the citizens of the tiers understand that the magick, or energy, is in the air all around them just waiting for a direction.

But we live in that kind of world too, at least I do, I see the magicks in the air and seek to harness them.  And I am not alone, not by a country mile, there are millions of us out there who live in the light and splash regularly in the fountain of creation.  We are disorganized and happy to be so, we have the same worries and pains as everyone else but see avenues of relief that others miss and we are always happy to make room at the fountain for everyone else.

Veal Prince Orloff

Several years ago when I owned the cafe, one of my customers and I were chatting about dinner parties.  Marilyn is just a tad older than I am, so when I said to her that I was the Mary Richards of dinner parties, I assumed she knew what I meant.

She didn't, Marilyn looked at me with thinly veiled contempt and said, "Well, I'm not, I'm terrible at throwing dinner parties."

Sigh.  And so was Mary Richards.

Here's today's history lesson.  Many decades ago there was an awesome sitcom called The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary was a plucky young news producer carving out her own place in the working world during the sexual revolution.  Mary was beautiful, smart, a great friend and had a fantastic wardrobe, but even though she tried and tried, could not throw a successful dinner party.

Her most famous dining debacle was the night of Veal Prince Orloff; Mr. Grant was not only extra cranky, but he took half of the portions of veal and Rhoda brought an unexpected guest.  The poor guy had just lost his job, but the good news about that was in just a couple of short years, that guy landed a great gig on Happy Days and became one of the most loved icons in America.

So what do Henry Winkler, MTM and dinner parties have to do with me and The Last Prospector?  Great question, glad you asked.

Not long ago, I started a contest called the Name Game so I could give away some copies of my book and, thus far, I have received no entries.  Not a one.  Not even from my sister who is supposed to support me in these things -- that's right I called you out Shaman Ydemon!

This is most disheartening, so I am asking nicely.  Please enter my contest, especially since right now, your chances of winning are excellent.  All you need to do is make up a name and send it on, you could possibly win a copy of The Last Prospector and you will absolutely, definitely make me smile brighter than a lighthouse at midnight.

And the other thing that Mary Richards and I have in common is that we can both turn the world on with our smile :)

I Love A Challenge

Happy New Year Travellers!

2013 is finally here and I am ready for it, I'm not one for making annual, sweeping resolutions because they rarely stick.  For the most part, I stay with small, daily resolutions like being more productive or dedicated to house cleaning, things I can handle easily.  HOWEVER, I am not averse to making wild predictions for the coming year, so I am stating at this time that The Last Prospector is going to be a big hit in '13.

I can see it every time I close my eyes and I want it like few other things I have wanted in my life.  That same little voice that told me Charles Howard was coming home is now telling me that this is my year, the one where a lifetime of trying finally pays off, and I am listening.

This blog is where it all starts, I'm almost certain of that, because this is my way of reaching out to the whole world and pulling them all into my world of Solstice.  Today is the kick off of the Ultimate Blog Challenge, to post every day for 31 days in an effort to gain more readers and more exposure.  From what I have read so far, it seems that some people have difficulty finding enough content for their blogs and the UBC is sending daily ideas for bloggers.

This is not much of a problem for me, I've got enough content for this blog, Spoon! and a whole other one for my musings about life that don't involve food or the book.  But there are still some good ideas from the challenge and I am using one of them today...


HELLO!  My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!

Oh wait, that's not me, I just have a hard time following HELLO! with anything else.  I'll try again.

Hi there!

My name is Cairn Rodrigues and last year I wrote and published a book titled The Last Prospector.  It is the start of an epic fantasy series and is about a man who knows that he is the last man who will every carry the name and title of Prospector.  He has a destiny, he knows it is waiting for him but that is all he knows as he journeys inexorably towards a questionable future.

The Light Stealers Song is a blog devoted to my journey as neophyte author and publisher, to share this new world I have entered as I flounder my way through.  Here is where I can share my frustrations, vexations and excitations (thank you Brian Wilson for making up that word!) while trying to make sense of all that I'm doing.

The Last Prospector is available at Amazon.com, please check it out.

I know this is a long post and it's about to get a bit longer so I can explain about the 'stealers.  The following is an excerpt from my book, I hope you like it.

THE LIGHT STEALERS’ SONG

It has been said that the light stealers were the first creatures that ever came to be on Solstice.  But it is more truthful to say that Solstice came to be because of the light stealers.  Light stealers are misnamed, as Ylumya’s light is always given freely, but the light stealers are an impish lot and enjoy playing the rascals.  They are also extremely social creatures and can only survive in the company of their kind.  The bonds they form with one another are so strong, so tangible, that matter flowed in and around them, growing slowly until they were all connected by the ground from which Solstice sprang.

Light stealers come in an untold array of shapes and in every one of the thousands of shades in the spectrum.  Each family group has its own ‘personality’ and many are happy to share their glow with all creatures.  There are also more reclusive varieties that are very adept at hiding and are rarely seen by people.  Most light stealers continue growing until they die which can take hundreds of years and there might even still be ‘stealers alive that were here before the beginning.

In addition to glowing, the light stealers also sing although most people have trouble hearing anything other than a buzz or hum.  They sing to each other constantly; they even sing as they slumber the day away, and it is that song that binds the little particles of Solstice and holds them together.  They are the wisest of Oneno’s creations because they understand that substance is in fact not at all substantial and everything hangs on wispy threads of sheer belief.

It is ironic, because the light stealers made Solstice, that the blooded creatures which had sprung up profligately did not even know of the light stealers’ very existence for centuries.  It wasn't until the Second War of the Twins, when the girls were fighting over the torch.  That particular skirmish set the torch on its perpetual path up, down and around Solstice.  Until that time, the land had always been bathed in light and it was all the blooded creatures knew.  So when the torch started dipping that very first time over the eastern edge of the land and the sky began to darken ominously, no one knew if the light would ever come back. 

The creatures panicked as they had never been cold before, never before been blind.  But just before the torch disappeared completely, something amazing happened.  The ground all over Solstice exploded into islands of warm colorful light, throwing back the darkness and revealing the glory of the light stealers for the first time.  The first night passed with joy instead of fear, which they would never have known if they had not been thrust into the darkness.

Contest of Will

I need a sponsor, that's the short version of today's blog post.

This is the time of year for authors to think about entering newly published books into contests, so I have been researching the possibilities.  Just finding a contest that will take a scratch made book is trying, let me say right here and for the record:  All of you who won't accept self published books are narrow minded snobs.  <-- That was the cleaned up version, my real thought included a lot of swear words and some ugly references to how they spend their personal time.

Fortunately, there are still many contests open to me and a handful that are specifically for scratch writers, so The Last Prospector will not be left totally out in the cold.  Which is the good news.

The bad news is that contest entering takes cash, a lot of cash.  First there is the entry fee, the average is $75, but most contests have more than one category you can enter and each category is an extra fee.  One contest has regions and categories, so there is a fee for each thing.

Now, I don't begrudge the organizations for charging a fee, not at all.  Nothing is free, prize money needs to come from somewhere as do the funds for advertising and administration.  Those folks are working stiffs like me with families to feed and bills to pay, so they should move the responsibility of the funding to people it will benefit.

I can't enter every contest, Clyde is vehemently opposed to taking out another mortgage on the house for that, so I have to be extremely choosy right now.  If it was just the entry fees alone, we could probably swing five over the next three months, but it's not just the entry fees, is it?

They need multiple physical copies of the book for the judges, which I have to pay for of course along with the postage to send them all to the proper places.  That could add up to more than the fee for each contest, so each entry is a serious financial commitment for us.

The potential rewards are great, the publicity alone is worth the investment -- if my book wins anything at all.
But there are cash prizes, some quite substantial, and even a few publishing contracts so I simply must try, even in a small way.

All told, I need about $1,000 to do this endeavor properly.  It doesn't look like much when I type it out, but it's a mortgage payment plus a couple of bills.  I like having a roof over my head, very much, so I'm trying to figure out where to scrounge up the extra cash.

I wonder if a bake sale would work?

List Hit

It's that time of year again Travellers!  The calendar year is drawing to an end, we have survived the elections, doomsday and Christmas, so it is time for a bit of fun.  Everyone is making lists this time of year since it is an easy way to recap the year that was.  I do love a good list, ask around, because a solid list is a busy chef's best friend and a great way to de-clutter an overburdened memory.

I have several lists going regarding the promotion of The Last Prospector, but this is that lovely slack time between the two holidays when no real work gets done.  I have no desire to upset that particular facet of Americana, so the following lists have absolutely no social or nutritive value.

Empty calories are the best kind, n'est ce pas?  (A little French for my niece)

10 Random Things That I Love

1. Pez Dispensers
2. David Attenborough
3. When a plan comes together
4. Dive bars with pinball machines
5. Steel drums
6. Warm peaches picked from the tree on a hot afternoon
7. The smell of paperwhite narcissus
8. Big, fat black bumblebees
9. When one of my kids actually listens to me
10. Not doing dishes

My 3 Most Favorite Pet Peeves

1. People who don't even try to say my name right.  IT'S JUST 5 LITTLE LETTERS PEOPLE, QUIT MAKING IT HARDER ON YOURSELF.  C+air+n, that's all it is, just one syllable so PLEASE stop calling me Corrine.
2. People who drive as if they are NOT sharing the planet with 7 billion OTHER people.  Courtesy counts.  Always.
3. Lazy chefs who think trying to sell me mashed potatoes with the skins still on is a culinary delight.  It's not, it's lazy so peel the damned potatoes or go sell insurance.

The List of the Finest Movies Ever Made About Food

1. Babette's Feast - The very finest example about the sheer joy of creation.
2. Big Night - The ultimate restaurant movie
3. Jean de Florette/Manon of the Spring - Two powerful companion pieces about the beautiful agony of growing food.
4. Eat, Drink, Man, Woman - Love is food and food is love.
5. Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle - Because cravings were made to be satisfied.

Things I Would Change If I Was In Charge

1. Katey Sagal would be declared a National Treasure.
2. Safeway would be forced to abandon its disgusting policy of not allowing employees to taste the prepared food before selling it.  Shame on you Safeway and any other purveyor of food with the same idiotic mandate.
3. Public offices would be filled by lottery drawings, thus ending the ugliness of political dumbassedness.
4. All bar stools would have backs on them.  Yeah, I know they take up too much precious space at the bar, but I need a place to hang my jacket.  And nice purses should not go on the floor, you know.
5. MTV would be gone so no more stupid 14 year old girls will deliberately get pregnant in a bid for TV stardom.
6. All of the Khardashians would be forced to learn an actual trade, something that benefits society in some way.  Like making fries at McDonalds, with time a couple of them could actually master that.

Books & Authors That Shaped Me

1. James Michener - I can't say that one of his books would make my top 10 list, but I read most of his stuff in my teens and through him I developed a discerning eye for the big picture.
2. Addie Pray by Joe David Brown - No one told me this sweet tale about grifters in the depression was not a children's book.  It was my absolute favorite story since I first read it at the age of eight and am still a little pissed that my parents did not name me Trixie Delight.
3. The Bourne Identity - The book, not the movie, yes it was a book first.  One of the most golden, most valuable, pieces of advice I ever got came from this book.  It never occurred to me until I saw those two magic words put together that they even belonged together, but they do.  THINK GEOMETRICALLY, omg I can't even begin to say how those two words affected me.  Linear thinking was never my bag anyway.
4. Sinclair Lewis - Quite simply the finest writer America ever produced, Main Street is a timeless look at the American condition and Elmer Gantry is just breathtaking in its exploration of fame.  All of you who are grousing that it's not Hemingway can suck it, what people see in that loser totally escapes me.
5. Douglas Adams - This guy gave us all some really great advice: Don't panic.  For that alone, I am eternally grateful, but he also gave us pure silliness and genuine laughter in story form.  
6. Papillon - I could write an entire book on what I learned from this book and how it shaped my life.  But I already have several irons in the book fire, so I will sum it thusly:  Never give up, no matter what, always keep looking for a way and never, ever STOP TRYING.

The 2 Big Ticket Items I Have Always Wanted But Never Afford

1. The Grace Kelly bag by Hermes.  I know it's ridiculous, so much money for just a purse, but it's one of the most beautiful things my eyes have ever seen.  I am a handbag ho, this is not news, and that is the best handbag ever conceived.  If I had an extra ten grand lying around, I would spend it on the Kelly.
2. A food truck.  I have wanted one for 20 years, but I no longer want one for business purposes.  Now I just want a kitchen on wheels, is that too much to ask?

The Mad Scientist

Pleasant Day Travellers!

That's my new name for you, although it's hardly a 'new' name by now, it still works beautifully.  Life is full of journeys, some more specific than others, and the knowledge that you are choosing to travel along with me is extremely wonderful.

I wish my mom was still alive to come along on this trip, it is one she would have loved; it's the journey she prepared me for since birth.  I am Jean's daughter, with all the wondrous and miserable things that she gave me; no matter where I go in life, I can never stray very far from that fact.  I don't want to stray far because Jean was a rare and special lady, but she was also tragic because Mom never truly embraced her eccentricities.  She fought against them her whole life, always trying so hard to be more mainstream, more normal, and that fight broke her on the inside.

Jean blamed herself for not being more like them, she saw the normal coming so easily to everyone else but not to her and self destructed quietly over a long period of time.  My deepest regret is that I could not save her, that I didn't know then what I know now and I wish I could have given her some peace.

It is too late for that, but I'm a mother too, so I know exactly what she would have wanted for me. Jean wanted better for me than she got but, more importantly, she wanted me to get if for myself, to do it my way and on my own terms.  My mother saw her crazy in me and did not try to squash it like her mother did, she encouraged it, fostered it, defended it and cried about it occasionally.

But the crazy was her gift to me, to all of her children, and there is no finer gift available.  Jean gave me the very best of herself and I am running with it, running with scissors quite possibly, but I that won't slow me down any.

So, when I posted last week about my changing my word, I was quite serious.  My theory is that changing the vocabulary I use about The Last Prospector will affect the way I present myself and the book to the world.  Until recently, I have not been my typical over-the-top, zealous self about promoting my writing and this is because I succumbed to self-doubt.

No more, no more.  The grand experiment is working, it started working the very moment I changed from self published to scratch, the real Cairn came back.  No more agonizing and wondering if people will like The Last Prospector, it is one of the tastiest morsels I have ever created and that is truly saying something.

In fact, it is so good that I might put a copy of the book on covered glass cake plate in the kitchen where Clyde's endless supply of homemade cookies usually live.  That is precisely the kind of eccentricity Jean would have loved.

BOOK GIVEAWAY!!

At some point today, California and the entire left coast is supposed to sink beneath the surly waters of the Pacific Ocean.  I awoke to some overcast skies and raindrops, but certainly no end of the world deluge, and wondered if anyone else wanted to play a game.

Playing and games are two of the bestest parts of life, I was weaned on pinball as a youngster and transitioned smoothly into the video game era as a teen.  Our house has around 50 board games stashed in various places, a cribbage board always handy and World of Warcraft for my husband.  I stopped playing WoW a year or so back, good game but I got sick of Blizzard's hubris and all the nerfing.

But Clyde, the kids and I are all vengeful gamers no matter what we play because, to us, playing is living.  So let's live on this day of prophesied doom, let's play and let's have a little fun instead.

Naming things is incredibly fun but it's also serious business.  Back when I did play WoW, I was notorious for deleting mid-level toons only because I got sick of their names.  Here's a fun Solstice fact, several character names were lifted wholesale from my toons and those of my WoW friends.   Molca, Soleila and the entire Jash family were derived from the mists of Azeroth.

A good name can get you far in this world, just ask Morgan Fairchild if you don't believe me.  Auld Andrew, my dad, mentions my proclivity for odd names in the book at every opportunity; apparently he would prefer names like Bob and Betsy, sorry Dad.

Making up names is too much fun to stop now and I would love to see what names all of you come up with. So, beginning today and running for one month is this blog's first contest, The Name Game!  The rules are very simple, just conjure up a name for a person or a place and either leave your entry in the comments section or email it to me.

The three people with the best names will each win a copy of The Last Prospector.  BUT WAIT!  THERE'S MORE!!

The grand prize winner, the reader who submits a name of unparalleled majesty and breathtaking symmetry will be able to find that name in a future book in The Song of Solstice series.

I don't know about you, but I'm excited.  There are still only a handful of readers of this blog, but there's more everyday and I would like to meet you, to say thanks for travelling with me.  So come and play readers, there's room for everyone and I will make snacks!

It occurs to me as I write this that calling you 'readers' is kind of boring, you all need a name.

I'll work up something good if you do.