Filed under: Amazon, Connections, Faith healing, Feedback, Flu, Kindle, Marketing, Pandemic, Predictions, Preparedness, Promotion, Publishing, Religion, Saturn, Science Fiction, Society, Survival, tech, Titan, Travel, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, blogging, Communion of Dreams, direct publishing, fire-flu, flu, Israel, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, literature, Moon, murder, predictions, Saturn, Science Fiction, space, St. Cybi's Well, technology, Titan, travel, Wales, writing
The description of Communion of Dreams on both the back of the book and on the website/Amazon is this:
The year is 2052, and the human race is still struggling to recover from a massive pandemic flu some 40 years previously. When an independent prospector on Saturn’s moon Titan discovers an alien artifact, assumptions that we are alone in the universe are called into question. Knowing that news of such a discovery could prompt chaos on Earth, a small team is sent to investigate and hopefully manage the situation. What they find is that there’s more to human history, and human abilities, than any of them ever imagined. And that they will need all those insights, and all those abilities, to face the greatest threat yet to human survival.
It was pretty easy to come up with that. It was written well after the fact, after all. The book had been done for years, worked over and tweaked endlessly.
Well, as I am getting things set to do the Kickstarter project to allow me to concentrate on writing St. Cybi’s Well, one of the components we have to get into place is setting up a website for it. To do that I needed to have the same sort of short description of that book as the one above for Communion of Dreams. But St. Cybi’s Well *isn’t* done yet. Far from it. I have a lot of ideas/thoughts/scenes for it, accumulated over the last nine years. I basically know what the book is going to be, but the story and the characters will evolve as I write. Nonetheless, I had to come up with a description.
This is what I came up with. See what you think:
Darnell Sidwell had a problem. Well, two, actually. One was the onset of an eye disease which threatened to end his career as a shuttle pilot for the Israeli Lunar Transfer, to the so-called New Ma’abarot colonies. That brought him to Wales, where his sister operated a spiritual healing center – a last, absurd hope for a man who didn’t believe in miracles.
The other problem was a small matter of a murder. His. But he didn’t know about that yet. Just as he didn’t know that the whole world was about to be plunged into the fire-flu.
It’s a start.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Amazon, Brave New World, Failure, Feedback, General Musings, Kindle, Predictions, Preparedness, Publishing, Religion, Science Fiction, Synesthesia, Travel, Weather, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, blogging, Communion of Dreams, direct publishing, drought, holy wells, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, literature, predictions, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, travel, Wales, weather, writing
We got a little more than 2″ of rain yesterday.
On my walk this morning, the grass no longer crunched underfoot.
* * * * * * *
Got a note from a friend this morning. He’d just finished reading CoD last night, made this comment:
“That was one hell of a lot of keeping things straight on your part. Very nice job and a thoroughly enjoyable read.”
* * * * * * *
From almost a decade ago:
My awareness shifted, slowed, and a calmness and sense of peace came over me. I did a cursory examination of the cottage, but then walked behind the Well room to find the source of the stream which fed the pool there: it was a spring, unencumbered by metal bars, bubbling up in a stone-ledged pool complete with small steps, perhaps four feet across. I knelt on one knee, left hand on the cold stone slab, the right reaching down to caress the surface of the water. Just touching that water gave me an electric chill, and brought tears to my eyes. Those tears have returned as I write this. I paused there, and just felt the joy of that water through my fingers for a few minutes, before returning to the Well room.
This is a substantial room, all the walls mostly intact but the roof missing. Perhaps 15 feet on a side, the pool in the center 8 or 9 feet across. Again, there were stone steps leading down into the pool. In the thick stone walls are several niches for sitting, perfect for contemplation. I sat. I just felt that place, felt the faith and devotion that had shaped it, and the deep source that fed it. The pool is quiet, the surface a mirror for looking up into the open sky. After what was probably only a few minutes, but what felt like hours, I again kneeled, reaching down to touch that smooth inviting surface. Here there was a different character to the energy, less raw, perhaps easier to digest. A sense of communion with all the souls who had entered that pool. A moment that stretched back centuries.
I was speechless for a time. Alix (my wife) knows me well enough, has seen me in these moments before, that she let me be, allowed me to just experience the place, until I was filled and ready to move again. With the silky texture of worn stone sliding under my fingers, I rose and left the pool, pausing only to pat the dark stone of the doorway and give thanks.
In was in that moment that St. Cybi’s Well was conceived.
* * * * * * *
It’s a strange thing to write a novel. To have it churn inside you for years. To feel it gestate, to become heavy in your mind, slowly pushing aside everything else.
I think this is part of the reason why so many writers suffer with addiction and relationship problems of one sort or another. The book takes up all the space in your head. And if you can’t extract it at the right time, and in *just* the right way, it hurts. It hurts like hell.
* * * * * * *
We got a little more than 2″ of rain yesterday.
On my walk this morning, the grass no longer crunched underfoot. We’re still in a drought — still some 10″ under for total precipitation this year — but two inches of rain over the course of 24 hours has helped. A lot. It no longer feels as if the entire outdoors is holding its breath, hanging on in anticipation . . . and in worry. The world has sighed.
I was speechless for a time. I am no longer.
There is work to be done. Hard work. There is no guarantee that I’ll be successful. There certainly is no guarantee that anyone will like the book. While it is very much a prequel to Communion of Dreams, St. Cybi’s Well will not neatly fit in the usual framework of a classic science fiction story. The passage above should give you some sense of that.
But I have to be faithful to the story. And have faith in my fans.
Stick around.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Connections, Emergency, Failure, Flu, Government, Health, Pandemic, Plague, Predictions, Preparedness, Science, Society, Survival | Tags: antibiotics, blogging, flu, health, jim downey, obesity, pandemic, plague, predictions, probiotics, science
Your body has something on the order of 10 trillion individual cells. But surprisingly, it has nine or ten times that number of microorganisms which it hosts in some capacity or another, many of which we have co-evolved with and which seem to be critical to our long health. While these microorganisms are typically much smaller than human body cells, in one very real sense, “you” is actually only about 10% “you.”
These microorganisms have a substantial impact on how your body digests food. On whether you can resist various kinds of infection or develop any of a range of auto-immune diseases. Perhaps even on your mood and risk assessment.
Would it therefore be any kind of a surprise at all if doing something to change the “mix” of these microorganisms had an impact on you?
Hell, it’d be a surprise if it didn’t.
Almost all of us know what happens when you have to take a broad-spectrum antibiotic: usually some degree of diarrhea and intestinal discomfort. And in the last decade or two it has become commonplace for people to seek out some variety of probiotics, frequently in the form of live yogurt, as a way to replenish gut flora following antibiotic treatment. I do it myself.
So, extending that idea a bit, researchers are now investigating whether part of the slow-moving plague of obesity can be due to the changes created in the human-hosted microorganisms:
Early use of antibiotics linked to obesity, research finds
The use of antibiotics in young children might lead to a higher risk of obesity, and two new studies, one on mice and one on humans, conclude that changes of the intestinal bacteria caused by antibiotics could be responsible.
Taken together, the New York University researchers conclude that it might be necessary to broaden our concept of the causes of obesity and urge more caution in using antibiotics. Both studies focus on the early age, because that is when obesity begins, the scientists say.
As I’ve noted previously:
In Communion I have a post-pandemic society, one which is recovering from a massive disruption caused by a flu virus which caused rapid death in a large percentage of the population. But the reality of what we’re dealing with might be even more insidious.
More insidious in this case because we have done it to ourselves.
And perhaps not even with direct antibiotic treatment to deal with some kind of life-threatening infection. Consider that it is still a widespread practice to boost livestock weight gain through the use of antibiotics, and that leaves a residue of antibiotics in the meat. If it boosts weight gain in feed animals, why wouldn’t it do the same to us?
I’ve said before that there has been some kind of change to the way our bodies absorb nutrients in the last 40 or 50 years, and that that is behind the global rise in obesity. Previously there were indications that it might be due to some kind of virus. Or an immune response to the germaphobia of the 20th century. But maybe it is more directly our own damned fault, and we’ve traded the ability to defeat infections for a different kind of health risk.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Amazon, Art, Book Conservation, Connections, Feedback, Kindle, Marketing, movies, Preparedness, Promotion, Publishing, Science Fiction | Tags: Amazon, art, blogging, book conservation, bookbinding, Communion of Dreams, direct publishing, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, Legacy Bookbindery, literature, photography, promotion, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, video, writing
As I keep discussing, I’m working through multiple small components of getting ready to launch a Kickstarter for the next novel. I’ve got two things to mention today.
The first is a request for some help. Part of the normal Kickstarter project is to have a video. As they put it on their website:
A video is by far the best way to get a feel for the emotions, motivations, and character of a project. It’s a demonstration of effort and a good predictor of success. Projects with videos succeed at a much higher rate than those without (50% vs. 30%).
Now, I’m sure that my wife and I can cobble something together which would vaguely meet the “have a video” criteria for the project page. But I would really prefer to have something decent. Something original. Something put together by someone who has more than a vague idea of what they’re doing.
If you are such a person, or if you *know* such a person, and would be interested in working with me on this, please leave a comment or send me an email. And note that I say “working with me” rather than “do this for me” — for the very simple reason that I respect the artistic talents of others and see this as a collaboration rather than just a technical problem to turn over to someone else. And I’m not asking for someone to do it for just “exposure” either — compensation will be offered, and we can work out an equitable arrangement. Please think about it, and get back to me soonish.
The other item I want to mention today is that we’ve given my bookbinding website something of a facelift, updating information on it, modernizing the look & operation a bit. Check it out when you get a chance.
What does this have to do with a Kickstarter project for St. Cybi’s Well?
Well, I’m glad you asked. It has something to do with St. Cybi’s Well because some of the premiums for pledges to my Kickstarter will include hand-bound copies of the book. As well as hand-bound copies of Communion of Dreams. In hardcover. In hardcover covered with premium bookcloth. Or full calfskin leather. Or even in full goatskin leather.
These will be very rare, possibly unique books. And how many other writers that you know have my professional bookbinding skills?
*That’s* why we updated the Legacy website. To show off my bookbinding talents a bit. Well, and because I’ve added a photo series of restoring a 1633 Danish bible that was a lot of fun earlier this year and I wanted to share that.
So, two more pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Amazon, Architecture, Bipolar, Diane Rehm, Failure, Feedback, Health, Kindle, Marketing, Migraine, Predictions, Preparedness, Promotion, Publishing, Science Fiction, Survival, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, American Migraine Foundation, bipolar, blogging, Communion of Dreams, David Dodick, Diane Rehm, direct publishing, health, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, literature, Mayo Clinic, migraine, NPR, promotion, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, writing
I woke about 1:00 this morning, rolled over and looked at the clock. My side hurt, the way it usually does. But it was the nasty bit of headache which had the bulk of my semi-conscious attention. I reached over to the nightstand, picked up the pain pill I had left there. I sat up enough to pop it into my mouth, then picked up the water glass, took a drink to wash the pill down.
About 4:30 I repeated the task.
I still had the headache when I finally woke at about 6:00, just before the radio came on.
* * * * * * *
Our house is about 130 years old. It has a narrow central staircase off the kitchen which leads to the second floor, making three 90-degree turns in the process. As far as I know, these stairs are largely original, though there were some minor modifications made at the bottom back in the 1950s.
Between the first and second turns there’s an exposed nail where someone made a mistake in construction. It came through the riser, but didn’t enter the tread properly. Part of the wood popped loose, and at some point broke away. But it doesn’t really hurt anything, and is out of the way, so no one has ever bothered to fix it.
I notice things like this.
* * * * * * *
The energy dynamic has changed again.
Well, to be honest, it is always changing. But while I had been riding fairly high in my bipolar cycle, now I can feel the old doubts, the old fears starting to creep back in.
Doubts? Fears?
Of failure, of course.
As I contemplate putting together the Kickstarter for St. Cybi’s Well, I start to worry. Will it be successful? How the hell am I going to reach the audience for Communion of Dreams to let them know about it? For that matter — can I even write the damned book, and if I do, will everyone just hate the thing?
* * * * * * *
Yesterday the Diane Rehm Show had a segment about migraines. From the transcript, this is Dr. David Dodick, neurologist at the Mayo Clinic and chair of the American Migraine Foundation speaking:
Well, Diane, when one does a functional scan, like Dr. Richardson just talked about, whether it’s a PET or a functional MRI, we see activation of certain regions in the brain and certain networks in the brain, particularly those networks that process sensory information, like light and noise and pain and emotion. So we see activation of all of these networks during migraine. And indeed what we’ve come to recognize now is that not just during a migraine attack.
But even in between attacks the brain is processing all of that sensory information in an abnormally excitable way. So, migraine was thought to be just a disorder that comes and goes and you’re perfectly normal in between. But we now recognize the fact that it’s an abnormal processing — abnormal network processing in the brain that continues even between attacks.
* * *
And that’s one of the reasons why we, as a medical community, absolutely must take this to sort of more seriously. Migraine sufferers are three times more likely to have psychiatric disorder such as depression, anxiety, bipolar illness. They’re twice as likely to have epilepsy. They’re twice as likely to suffer an ischemic stroke. They’re six to 15 times more likely to develop brain lesions.
* * * * * * *
I woke about 1:00 this morning, rolled over and looked at the clock. My side hurt, the way it usually does. But it was the nasty bit of headache which had the bulk of my semi-conscious attention. I reached over to the nightstand, picked up the pain pill I had left there. I sat up enough to pop it into my mouth, then picked up the water glass, took a drink to wash the pill down.
About 4:30 I repeated the task.
I still had the headache when I finally woke at about 6:00, just before the radio came on.
I’ve had this headache off and on for the better part of a week. Maybe longer.
The codeine I take each evening/overnight to deal with the torn intercostal muscle pain is also effective at disrupting the development of a full migraine. But the cycle still tries to complete. It’s annoying.
But some things you learn to live with. Like imperfections in old homes. Yes, I’ll see the Kickstarter through, as well as writing the book whether or not the Kickstarter is completely successful.
Some things you learn to live with.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Amazon, Art, Kindle, Marketing, Preparedness, Publishing, Science Fiction, Writing stuff | Tags: Amazon, art, Communion of Dreams, direct publishing, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, literature, photography, promotion, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, writing
So, I’m starting to get geared up to do a Kickstarter project tied to the next novel, and that means (among other things) getting the necessary infrastructure put into place. One big component of this is having a unified visual design — a ‘brand’, if you will.
For Communion of Dreams, I always knew I wanted to use Peter Haigh’s stunning “Burr Oak at Twilight” image as part of this branding component. That’s the image at the top of this page, on the book’s website, and on the cover of book (more evident on the paperback than the Kindle edition). I use a small version of it as an icon/avatar where appropriate.
But curiously, the final design of the book cover didn’t happen until this past January. That was largely due to the fact that for the longest time I was hoping to have the book conventionally published, and I knew that any publisher would likely have some strong opinions on the matter of the book design. Hell, I was worried that I would have to fight just for my choice of title for the book.
This time, planning on publishing the next book myself changes the whole order of things. Particularly since I am hoping that a successful Kickstarter will help make the process of getting the book written and prepared for publication go much faster/easier. As a result, we’re starting with the cover design, and will be working to incorporate that into the rest of the visual ‘brand’ of the book. And here it is:
I really like the way this hints at certain elements of the story. Hehehehe.
Jim Downey
PS: Speaking of Kickstarters, some friends of mine are doing one currently to expand their jewelry-smithing. It’s a very cool project, and they are definitely people who will make good use of the new tools and skills. Check it out, support it if you can — I have — there’s 10 days left, and they’re just a bit over $4,000 from their goal: Ancient Metalsmithing Made Modern, or Perfecting Pressblech
Filed under: Amazon, Arthur C. Clarke, Feedback, Isaac Asimov, Kindle, Marketing, Preparedness, Promotion, Publishing, Science Fiction, Society | Tags: 2001, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Amazon, Arthur C. Clarke, direct publishing, Dune, Foundation, Frank Herbert, Isaac Asimov, jim downey, Kickstarter, Kindle, literature, promotion, reviews, Science Fiction, writing
I’ve noted in the past that there have been a number of interesting comparisons of Communion of Dreams with the works of Arthur C. Clarke in general, and with 2001: A Space Odyssey in particular. Which isn’t surprising, since the book is an intentional homage to that book, referencing it directly at several points. I’ve tried to be clear that I am not trying to claim that my writing is on the same level as Clarke’s — if nothing else, I have only written one book and am very conscious of the fact that I am following along a well-worn path, one which he initially cut through the wilderness and many others have since trod. Still, it is flattering when someone else thinks that my book is good enough to even consider a comparison to 2001.
Well, that sort of thing has happened again, with a new review on Amazon which went up yesterday. It’s quite positive, and says things like this:
James Downey has written a very strong sci-fi story that, like all good sci-fi, takes the reader on a wonderful journey into the realm of future human possibilities.
Then, amusingly, it closes with this:
The only reason I did not give it five stars is because I don’t rate it as great a story as say the classic Isaac Asimov Foundation series or Frank Herbert’s Dune, but otherwise it is a book well worth the time to read and savor.
Yeah, when you’re judging my book against such classic works as those, hell, I’d give it only 4 stars as well. Once again, those works were trail-blazers, and that alone makes it difficult for anything which follows to be fairly compared.
Anyway. I’d like to ask two things:
- If you have read Communion of Dreams, and have not yet written your own review, please PLEASE do so. As I have hinted several times recently, I have something new in the works, and very much need as many solid reviews as possible in place to help people have a realistic idea of what to expect.
- If you’re on Facebook, please go “like” the Communion of Dreams page. And tell your friends about it. Again, this will help a great deal with what I have coming up soon.
Thanks – I really appreciate your help.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Architecture, Art, Emergency, Italy, Mark Twain, Predictions, Preparedness, Religion, Science, Survival, Travel | Tags: art, blogging, ghosts, Herculaneum, Innocents Abroad, Italy, jim downey, Mark Twain, Mount Vesuvius, Naples, photography, Pompeii, predictions, pyroclastic flow, Roman, science, travel, volcano
“Finally we stood in a level, narrow valley (a valley that had been created by the terrific march of some old time irruption) and on either hand towered the two steep peaks of Vesuvius. The one we had to climb – the one that contains the active volcano – seemed about eight hundred or one thousand feet high, and looked almost too straight-up-and-down for any man to climb, and certainly no mule could climb it with a man on his back. Four of these native pirates will carry you to the top in a sedan chair, if you wish it, but suppose they were to slip and let you fall, – is it likely that you would ever stop rolling? Not this side of eternity, perhaps. We left the mules, sharpened our finger-nails, and began the ascent I have been writing about so long, at twenty minutes to six in the morning. The path led straight up a rugged sweep of loose chunks of pumice-stone, and for about every two steps forward we took, we slid back one. It was so excessively steep that we had to stop, every fifty or sixty steps, and rest a moment. To see our comrades, we had to look very nearly straight up at those above us, and very nearly straight down at those below. We stood on the summit at last – it had taken an hour and fifteen minutes to make the trip.”
Mark Twain, Chapter 30 of The Innocents Abroad.
* * * * * * *
Yeah, it isn’t quite that bad climbing Mount Vesuvius today. There’s now a very good path which switchbacks a couple of times, then winds around the mountain a fair amount, making for a longer walk but one which is still fairly steep, climbing the final 200 meters of elevation from the parking lot. Take a look:
Then once you’re to the top, you can walk about a third of the way around the lip of the crater. On one side, you look down into the crater, on the other out over the volcanic plains to the Bay of Naples:
Looking towards Naples.
There’s a dark patch of green surrounded by buildings directly above the corner post: that’s Pompeii.
At the top – at the very end of the public trail – there’s a little hut selling refreshments and souvenirs. And the prices are more reasonable than you might expect. But I decided that I didn’t really need either an ashtray or a skull carved out of black pumice.
Standing there on what’s left of Vesuvius, looking out over the plains below, I felt a bit melancholy. It could have just been the exertion to climb to the top. Or that I knew the trip was coming to a close. But looking out over the misty cities, it was easy to picture another eruption. There are millions of people within potential reach of the volcano. Naples – a city of some 4 million – is conceivably at risk. In the immediate area around the volcano some 600,000 people are subject to possible pyroclastic flows. Current scientific models indicate that there would probably be two to three weeks of warning before a serious eruption, but no one is entirely confident of that. And at best, it would take 5 -7 days to evacuate those most at risk.
* * * * * * *
We came down off the mountain, but in some sense didn’t leave it. It lurked there on the skyline as we went to Herculaneum.
I said that visiting Pompeii was “sobering,” but the primary thing that going there did for me was to help me envision what a Roman city was like.
Herculaneum was different. It was even more immediate – more “real.” That’s because of the way the city was destroyed.
When Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD, Herculaneum was mostly out of the immediate ash cloud. In Pompeii, the city was largely buried by ash and small rock debris to a depth of several meters in the first few hours. This caused roofs to collapse, and entombed people in ash after they suffocated or died from blunt trauma.
Not so in Herculaneum. They only got a few inches of ash initially. This meant that they had a lot more time for the city to be evacuated. But when the blow came to Herculaneum, it came very swiftly – in the form of a pyroclastic flow of molten rock and debris moving at 100 mph and at a temperature of over 900 degrees Fahrenheit.
Those who were in the city died almost instantaneously, their flesh vaporized in the heat. All that was left was bone.
Likewise, structures were encased in the molten mass, and it happened so quickly that wood didn’t burn – it was carbonized, turned to charcoal, sealed in super-heated rock. Roofs didn’t collapse, as the structures were filled inside as well as covered over on the outside. Eventually, the entire city was covered to a depth of more than 20 meters. The result was a city which was even better preserved than Pompeii. Better preserved, and because of that more tangible. You couldn’t help but walk the streets, enter the houses, and feel like you were in a living city, one which had just misplaced its populace. The ghosts were still close here:
Vesuvius waits.
The boathouses where the final refugees died.
Courtyard of the baths.
Temple paintings.
Temple paintings.
Temple paintings.
Carbonized rafters.
Street scene.
At the wine merchant’s.
Wood on the outside of the wine shop.
A local snack bar.
Another street scene.
Wooden screw press, now carbonized and behind glass. This was probably used in the making or cleaning of cloth.
City above, city below. (Ercolano – the modern city, and Herculaneum).
* * * * * * *
It was our last night at the villa. Usually this is something of a party night for everyone, and for much of the group this was true. But somehow I just wasn’t really in the mood.
Jim Downey
PS: there’s an excellent collection of additional images from this trip, taken by Angie Bohon, another member of the group. They can be seen here, here, and here.
Filed under: Architecture, Art, Connections, Italy, Predictions, Preparedness, Religion, Ridley Scott, Travel, Writing stuff | Tags: Baiae, blogging, Caligula, Campbell, Communion of Dreams, Italy, jim downey, literature, Marcus Aurelius, mythology, Naples, predictions, Prometheus, promotion, Roman, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, travel, Wales, writing
Thursday morning (July 19) I spent time catching up on notes about the trip so far. At least that was the excuse I used to hide a while, spending time alone. Oh, the group was great, and everyone continued to be very easy to get along with and welcoming. But I had been spending much more time with people than I was used to, and my “extrovert batteries” were worn out. Furthermore, the rough & tumble of Naples just left me mildly depressed and feeling entirely unenthusiastic for the day’s outing.
Which, of course, set the stage for something completely remarkable to happen …
* * * * * * *
Following the morning workshop, then lunch, we loaded into the bus and headed for Baiae.
First, up to the top of Baia Castle, to take in the sights and to see a collection of sculptural items at the Archaeological Museum of the Campi Flegrei (Phlegrean Fields).
Baia Castle is your fairly typical 15th century European castle. But it offers some great views of the Bay of Naples:
One small note: you may recall having heard that the Roman Emperor Caligula once commanded that a pontoon bridge be built spanning the Gulf of Baiae, supposedly so that he could ride a horse across it and fulfill some prophecy. Well, that evidently actually happened, and said bridge crossed that middle image – going from the shore below the castle across to the port area on the left side of that picture, a distance of more than 3 miles.
The upper portion of the museum is a collection of Greek-inspired sculptural and architectural elements. But it was downstairs that I experienced something of an epiphany.
* * * * * * *
An apology to those who are just reading these travelogues for a bit of info about this portion of Italy. Because I’m going to talk about my fiction writing for a moment. If you haven’t read my current novel and have no interest in it or the prequel I am currently working on, feel free to skip this section.
This will also contain possible “spoilers” for both novels, as well as a bit of a reveal of the smoke & mirrors behind writing a novel. You’ve been warned.
As those who have read Communion of Dreams know, there are a number of scenes which pertain to one character’s dream-visions. Which, it turns out, are drawn from the dream-visions of another character in the book.
Those scenes are choc-a-block full of imagery which references Campbell’s monomyth ideas. Having them play out, be transferred, from one character to another within a dream-vision was a little bit of meta-synecdoche on my part, and was obviously meant to reference both the title of the book as well as what happens in the course of the story.
OK, that’s easy enough. Now, the prequel I have been thinking about and working on (by fits and starts) for the last several years is titled St. Cybi’s Well, and the time of the novel is today (though on a slightly different timeline/reality than our own). And the main character for that book is one of the characters mentioned just above. He is, in fact, the character from whom the dream-visions are drawn. That has been my plan all along.
What has also been my plan, but which I hadn’t quite been able to sort out how to accomplish, was that in St. Cybi’s Well much of the story will revolve around *how* this character came to have those dream-visions in the first place. This is further complicated by the fact that I don’t necessarily want the character to realize the full import of what he experiences within the context of the story – the reader should be able to draw out conclusions which the character wouldn’t, especially if the reader had already read Communion of Dreams.
OK, got all that? So, here’s what I experienced at Baia Castle: the revelation that the classical sculptures of Greek and Roman mythology could themselves be the conduit for the dream-visions. I got this by walking through the collection – not just walking through it, but by seeing the juxtaposition of different sculptures within the somewhat under-lit and under-stated layout of the museum.
See, like in most of the museums we had visited, the climate control there was non-existent. And whether in order to keep down temps a bit, or just to save money on electricity, the only lighting throughout the space was from windows along one side of the building. And the layout of the building was a series of almost cave-like ‘bunkers’ – rooms which were kinda long & narrow with a relatively low ceiling, and done up in neutral grey tones.
It was perfect. And in a moment my mind made the leap to imagery for St. Cybi’s Well. Because, like many of the different ‘holy wells’ in Wales, it dates back to the middle of the 6th century – not that long after the fall of Rome. And, in fact, the spread of Christianity to the Celtic lands was part of the cultural transference which took place. It’d be easy to tweak the history just a bit to include ‘lost’ sculpture & myth.
I felt in that moment the same way I feel now: like laughing maniacally.
* * * * * * *
We now return you to your regularly-scheduled travelogue.
The sculptural collection at Baia Castle was pretty remarkable in several regards. Here are a few of the more striking images:
Stick your favorite deity in the slot…
Prometheus. Not Ridley Scott’s version. The original.
Marble cinerary urn.
Bone box.
Marcus Aurelius
* * * * * * *
Our next stop was the huge Roman bath/resort complex at Baiae.
Prior to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, this had been one of the premier places for the rich and powerful to gather and relax. Because of the hydro-thermal springs, Roman engineers were able to construct an elaborate complex which offered naturally hot mineral waters. Avoiding the need to run furnaces meant that the whole thing was cleaner and could be scaled *way*up from what was typical. As a result, at the height of the complex it was some 6 stories high along the hillside, and spanned 3 or 4 modern city blocks. Here are some images to give a sense of the size and luxuriousness of the complex:
Along the entrance.
Further along.
Floor mosaic. The floors are covered with a layer of dirt/dust – splashing water on the surface gives a sense of how it would have looked originally.
Another portion of the floor mosaic.
Another floor mosaic.
A sense of the size of the complex.
Note the dome in the middle distance – just one of several in the complex, used as one of the sauna rooms.
* * * * * * *
Following our visit to the Roman baths, we ventured to see how more modern Italians enjoy the seaside: we went to the beach.
Now, beaches in Italy are different than most of the beaches I’ve been to here in the U.S. Not that I’ve spent much time at beaches in the U.S. in the last twenty years.
Anyway, modern Italian beaches are highly commoditized. You pay for entrance. You pay for a reserved parcel of beach, which comes with an umbrella. You pay for a chair or chaise lounge. It is less like going to a beach than it is like going to Disneyland.
You can see this from a pic I took from Baia Castle, looking down:
Beach complex.
And here’s what it looks like from ground level (at a different beach):
Welcome to Disneyland.
Doesn’t that look fun?
But what the hell. A few hours at the beach was something a lot of people enjoy, and the bulk of the group was happy with the arrangement. Most of them donned swimming suits and even got a bit wet.
Me? No thanks. I burst into flame when exposed to direct sun. And I’m not exactly in what you might call “beach condition”. I was perfectly happy to park at the bar with a couple other people and enjoy some cold beer.
Besides, I wanted to mull over the revelation I’d had earlier. Such moments are rare, and not to be wasted.
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Politics, Predictions, Preparedness, Reason, Religion, Society, Survival, Terrorism, Violence, Writing stuff | Tags: jim downey, NPR, politics, predictions
“Did you hear about the fire in Joplin?” asked my wife, as she walked into my office. We had just gotten back from a nice lunch with old friends who were in town on business.
“Fire?”
“Yeah, this morning. A mosque burned to the ground. They had a smaller fire last month which was determined to be arson.”
* * * * * * *
Early yesterday morning I chided a friend on Facebook. She had posted that the shooting at the Sikh temple in Wisconsin was another example of hatred and ignorance. This is what I said: “Don’t jump to conclusions. This could have been some kind of domestic dispute or something completely unrelated to the appearance of the people at the temple. Wait until some actual news comes out.”
Well, when actual news *did* come out, it was clear that the perp had in the past embraced the White Supremacist / Neo-Nazi movement.
* * * * * * *
From the end of Chapter 9:
Jon thought he should clarify. “Jackie’s got the gist of it, but let me try and explain a little more completely. Sometime during the chaos of the post-flu, there were two marginal groups that got together. One was the heir of something called The Order, a reactionary offshoot of the old Aryan Nation.”
“Ah, neo-Nazis. Yes, I know them.”
“Thought so. The other group was a splinter of the radical environmental organization Earthfirst!, sort of like the far-left fringe of the Greens. They managed to create a hybrid belief system: that true adherence to God’s natural law would bring man back to a state of grace, suitable to be readmitted to the Garden of Eden. To promote this belief, they want to see a complete restoration of the Earth’s biosphere to a natural state, with humans having almost no environmental impact.”
As I’ve said before, the prequel I’m working on, St. Cybi’s Well, is set right at the time of the onset of the fire-flu.
Guess what groups are going to play a part in that story. Right.
* * * * * * *
“Yeah, this morning. A mosque burned to the ground. They had a smaller fire last month which was determined to be arson.”
I clicked open a news article on my computer, glanced through it. I shook my head.
My wife read the article over my shoulder, asked: “First the shooting in Wisconsin, now this. Why do people have to pull crap like this?”
“They’re afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yeah. Of change. Of not being in control. Of things which are different. You know, the usual.”
“Yeah, but it’s so stupid,” she said almost to herself.
“True. And just because they’re afraid doesn’t mean we have to give in to them, give in to their fear.” I sighed. “But it may mean that we have to defend ourselves from that fear.”
Jim Downey
(The travelog I intended on posting today will be delayed. Sorry.)
Communion Of Dreams 