The Eurasian -- serialisation of a novel in progress

My current writing project is a future scenario titled The Eurasian. It's been a challenge to write because inspiration comes in spurts, and then I get none at all. I think what I have so far is pretty good, and I have enough to be able to see where it's headed. It's set in the future, probably about 60 years from now. It starts in Thailand, moves to Hong Kong, then to America. However, each place is only partially recognisable. I should warn you before you start: anyone with nationalistic feeling towards Thailand, Malaysia, or America, could be offended by the future I've painted -- or, they could take it as a warning.

The main character is my own great grandson. Some of the dialect spoken by the Asian characters is something called Singlish, a sort of Pigeon English currently spoken in Singapore and Malaysia. You could refer to the website www.Talkingcock.com, where you'll find the Coxford Singlish Dictionary.

Anyway, here are the first two chapters:

The Eurasian



by robby charters



© 2011 by Robby Charters



Chapter 1

Mr. Singh appeared right on time, out of thin cyberspace.
'Good morning class. Everyone present? Ah, I see Derek Hong has yet to join us.'
'Logging in soon I think,' said Lo Peng. 'Just talked to him -- had to water the flowers.'
'Virtual?'
'Man eating?'
'No. Have real ones la.'
The sixteen of them -- minus one -- appeared to be sitting in a semicircle facing the instructor's console.
'My friend, Kim --' whispered Philip Kumar, leaning over to Mickey, '-- he have botany design game -- makes carnivorous...'
'While we wait,' intruded Mr. Singh -- his on-line presence was a stout, majestic, grey-bearded gentleman who, apart from his turban, could have passed for Professor Dumbledore -- 'I'll just load the module for today, so we can start as soon as Derek gets here.'
Immediately, the space next to the professor began filling up with the usual script code, and an image began to materialise: a map of the North American West Coast.
'America? Wa! I thought Extension of Chinese...'
'Even did homework la!'
Mickey heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn't finished his.
'I'll explain it as soon as -- ah! He's logging in now. Good morning Derek. Glad you could join us.'
The space next to Lo Peng began materialising into the shape of Derek Hong.
'So,' began Mr. Singh, 'You're all wondering, why a map of North America? You'll remember that three months ago, we, as a class, put together a proposal for the field trip of our dreams. Well, it appears that someone in high places, in the Department of Education, in consultation with the Department of Foreign Affairs, Beijing, thought that it fit right in with their policy to enhance the West's perception of the Chinese half of the globe. In short, you will be taking your graduating class trip to North America.'
There was general cheering, both vocal and otherwise. Half of the seated images degenerated into fireworks, stars and other graphic images, the finale of Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture resounded from where U Ta Gladstone sat, while Jimmy Khoo morphed to both look and sound like a collection of horns, bells, whistles and airborne confetti.
Mr. Singh brought the class to order by tapping the 'muffle' icon. Everyone reappeared in their assumed shapes.
'We'll have a lot of planning to do, special training, extra reading, you'll each receive an orientation packet that you'll be expected to view on your own. There are restrictions on what you're allowed to take with you; books, for instance. Today, we'll talk about your itinerary. Today's lesson, The Extension of Chinese Sovereignty -- Mid 21st Century, will be rolled over to tomorrow. Those who haven't completed their assignments -- I won't mention any names, as I'm sure that would embarrass Mickey -- you have one more day. Now, your itinerary...'
The city of San Francisco, and Mickey's face, lit up in red.
'You will begin your trip here, on the Northern tip of the island of Baja California, which, as you can see, is separated from the North American mainland by the San Andreas Straight...'
The professor droned on, but Mickey had lost his concentration. Dreaming about this was all very well. Apart from Riu, his closest neighbour right here in Chantaburi, he had never actually met any of his classmates face to face. What did they really look like?
He knew that Jonny Lim didn't really resemble the cartoon character Astro Boy, and Lucy Kanda probably didn't look like Marilyn Monroe, nor Albert Fong, the younger version of Jackie Chan. Mickey O'Brien was the one student everyone assumed looked like himself -- whereas in actual fact, he had carefully modified his image to get rid of all his Eurasian features, making himself look the product of the Thai Chinese side of his family.
That sort of worried him.
* * *
Lounging on the veranda of the real-world O'Brien abode, Grandpa Abe watched the monkeys swing on the bamboos just across the lake from their fruit orchard. Mickey sat on the swinging chair with his e-tablet on his lap, loaded with his delinquent homework assignment.
'Grandpa,' he started. 'You were around, weren't you, when China extended their sovereignty to all of East Asia?'
'Hah! Extended! I like the choice of words!'
'You don't sound very positive.'
'Well, I suppose change is inevitable. I was born Thai, I live the life of an Irishman, I'll die as a Chinese.'
'But our family is part Chinese, aren't we?'
'I suppose we are -- and it was just a matter of our motherland catching up with us foreign born Chinese. It's just too big. That's all. Now, Ireland, that's a nice small country. Manageable. Thailand used to be a small country once, not as small as Ireland, but now we're part of the giant super-power. Lost our uniqueness -- not that we had much of that left. I suppose we were ripe for a good take-over.'
'How?' queried Mickey.
'You got your history book there. What does that say?'
'It gives some background. I suppose the political crises in Thailand in the first quarter of the century, with the rising sea water, which flooded most of the central planes, and then the massive influx of non-Malays from the Malay Peninsula fleeing from the tide of radical Islamic repression...'
'Yes -- the entire Chinese as well as the Indian populations of the East Indies, bringing with them their English fluency, and their Chinese ways, to welcome the Southward expansion of the Beijing Empire as they "came to our rescue". The sleeping giant not only awakened, but took charge.'
'The -- what?'
'They used to call China the "sleeping giant". It woke up, just as everyone was afraid would happen, and now here we are, with Beijing central bureaucracy.'
'But it's not so bad, really.'
'Yes, the bark was worse than the bite. Thank Chinese pragmatism for that. But, of course, you grew up with all this. You've never known anything else. Me? I've been to dozens of countries in my time, all small, independent...'
'You know, our class is going on a trip to North America.'
'You're -- what?'
'Just announced today. We had this proposal that we wrote -- you know, just for the heck of doing a proposal. We didn't think anything would come of it. But, I guess, the Department of Foreign Affairs thought it went right along with their plan to expose the West to Chinese culture and politics.'
'Part of the propaganda machine, then...'
'Well, I wouldn't call it that...'
'Probably just what they need -- the Americans. They still think we all dress in green pyjamas with a wee red star on our caps, if we're not up to our knees in a paddy field somewhere. So, when do you go?'
'Twenty-eighth of next month.'
'Ah, so you'll get to help Uncle Jiu harvest the durian and rambutans first.'
'I guess...'
After a long pause, Mickey said, 'Grandpa, do you think my friends will like me when they've seen me up close?'
'Why wouldn't they?'
'I mean -- if they suddenly know I'm Eurasian.'
'Don't they already know that by your surname?'
'They know me as Mickey Mao.'
'As in -- Mickey Mouse, or Mao Tse Tung?'
'Ha ha -- both.'
'Oh! Listen to you! Why do you think they won't accept you as you are?'
'Well -- the jokes they tell, and -- well -- the virtual classroom is the only place I don't hear farang dong, farang dong, everywhere I go.'
'So you don't look like a farang dong on-line?'
'No one looks like themselves on-line.'
'So there you go. They've probably all got deep dark secrets to hide from the world.'
Just then, the whir of a hover scooter sounded from the driveway, as it died down to a stop. The two looked up in time to see Reverend Pongsak step up to the veranda.
'Good afternoon, Pastor,' said Grandpa.
'I think you not do road repair since you stop using rubber tires!' commented the clergyman.
'What brings you this way?'
'Pastoral visit.'
'Ah! Not see us in two weeks, ah?' Grandpa always reverted to the regional Pigeon English when the occasion called for it.
'Yes, ha ha, notice that too. But how are you? How your cousin, Jiu?'
Just now, the said Cousin Jiu, Abe's partner in business, was napping in the hammock strung out between two of the pillars supporting the older, traditionally built, half of the house. He was surrounded by oil cans, tools, engine parts and a pile of early ripened durian.
'We all well, la. Next week very busy. Pick durian. But this Sunday you see us.'
'Ah, well -- Your sister, Rosemary. You hear from her?'
'Yes -- the thorn in your side.'
'You know, EFT churches, government recognised. We allied with Three Self Patriotic Movement in Beijing. We must keep good relations.'
'What's that to do with Rosemary?'
'She must come under covering of EFT. Officials asking questions, la.'
'But there hasn't been a crackdown on house churches since -- when?'
'Not in long time. That's true. But we must keep peace, la. House church? No control!'
'They acknowledge Christ as head of the church.'
'Ah! Christ the head! Christ the head! Christ the head of earthquake destroy Tokyo!'
'I forward your concern when I see her. Here! Let me pick out a durian for you. Your family, they like durian, ah?'
'Oh! No no, you mustn't!'
'No, I insist.'
Grandpa Abe walked to the pile next to where his cousin Jiu rested. He began to pick up various ones by their stem, tapping them with a long stick.
Just then Uncle Jiu sprung to life and took a large durian from near him. 'Look nee sook raeo...' telling him, in Thai, this one was ready to open today, and the other one should be ripe in two days.
Reverend Pongsak drove away with two durians.
'What's he got against Aunt Rosemary?' asked Mickey, standing at Grandpa's side.
'Your Aunt Rosemary has done many times more for the church than that Pongsak ever will. She's a woman of God. Takes after her grandmother, after whom she was named. Our Grandmother Rosemary, in turn, followed the footsteps of her mother, Ma Hanna.'
'That was an awful long time ago.'
'1913, same year the Titanic sunk. She started a school for girls in Lampang. Later, she came back with her husband. My grandmother, Rosemary and her twin were born in Lampang. Later, Grandma Rosemary come out and marry Grandpa Willie in Tak province. They start new churches there. Your great grandpa, Boz born. He married Bless, Thai Chinese, so I'm the first Eurasian. The rest of us, Eurasian, down to you, Robby and Rosie.'
Mickey had heard the story hundreds of times, but Grandpa Abe seemed to enjoy telling it.
'Now you,' Grandpa went on. 'You have a great heritage. Don't be ashamed of Eurasian.'
* * *
Uncle Jiu was driving the tractor, the only conveyance on the property that still had rubber tires. Hitched to that was the hover truck. It wasn't powerful enough to both drive forward and hover with such a heavy load at the same time, so it just did the latter while hitched to the tractor.
Perched on the growing mountain of durians, padded by a thick rug, Robby and his sister Rosie, ages 10 and 9 respectively, took the durians from the pickers and arranged them into a sustainable stack. They had one glove each to shield the palm of their hands from the sharp prickles. They took each durian by its stem with their bare hand, while holding it up with their gloved hand.
Their great uncle, Jiu, told them stories.
'In the very old days,' he spoke to them in Thai over the whir of the electric motor, 'they have a special penalty for attacking someone with a durian. If you throw a durian at someone, they count the punctures on the body, and make you pay one Baht per puncture. It make ten punctures, you pay ten Baht. In those days, ten Baht, a week's wage. But, in my day, before adoption of Chinese currency, ten Baht not even pay for a Cola drink!'
'Uncle Jiu, why don't we use robots to pick durian, like people on TV?' asked Robby.
'If we use robots, how could we employ so many people? Where would these people find work? I tell you. In the early days of Chinese Communism, they can't own so much land (long before Chinese come to Thailand, of course). But they find that Communism -- I mean, pure Communism -- won't work. Must let people own businesses. Businesses puts people to work, so not burden on the State. We have large property, can earn lots of money; but our responsibility to the State: employ people so they have income. We can live on what's left.'
Mickey brought the last durian before Uncle Jiu decided they had a big enough load. Rosie took it from him. Uncle Jiu began driving through the orchard towards the house.
* * *
The sound of the hover-car coming up the driveway was unmistakeably that of Papa, returning from his office job in the nearby town of Makham. That was followed by the sound of footfalls on the gravel. But the sound was slower and more deliberate, and the taking off of his shoes on the veranda seemed to take some effort.
Mickey went out to look. Papa was struggling with a large box. Yet more books.
Over the last ten or so years, there had been a surge of used books on the market -- English language and, according to various handwritten notations, from places in California, Canada, Texas, Mexico. According to the electronic tags...
Mickey could remember first trying the scanning program one of his classmates had hacked. They revealed an intriguing history. The second to the last entry was always something like, 'Property of San Diego Archives', or 'Property of Vancouver Archives' -- always property of somewhere-or-other archives. The last entry was invariably, 'To be destroyed' and a date.
'Pity to destroy such great books,' Mickey had commented.
'Obviously, someone did the right thing in sending them here instead,' Papa had replied.
Now the family library included the complete works of Charles Dickens -- two or three of some titles, though never matching sets -- H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Arthur C. Clark, Agatha Christi, Stephen King, J.R.R. Tokein, Brian Adlis, John Grisham, William Gibson, William Shakespeare, Tobias Buckell, Peter O'Tool, Michael Crichton, J.K. Rowling, C.S. Lewis, George MacIntire, Billy Whistle, just to name a few. There were also Bible commentaries, encyclopaedias, works on ancient history, and even a few tractates of the Talmud.
Mickey took the box from Papa, brought it inside and set it on the floor. Robby and Rosie ran over and began rummaging for any children's books. As usual, Mickey had his scanner.
Again, he noted the date on the 'To Be Destroyed' label. Always 2055, give or take a few months. Some had 2056, or 2057.
'Why did they suddenly decide on that date to destroy all these books,' wondered Mickey out loud.
'What's that one there?' said Grandpa Abe, looking over his shoulder.
Mickey picked it up, a paperback, with a headline and subtitles meant to shock: The Coming Purge, by Dustin Smith. The subtitles read, 'This may be the last book you'll be allowed to read!' 'Massive brainwashing campaign', and 'Major rewrite of history!'
'I remember him,' said Grandpa. 'A prophet of doom. We thought he was a ranting crack-pot.'
The book looked brand new, as though it had never been opened. Mickey looked at the inside front cover. There were prices pencilled in, crossed out, replaced by cheaper prices, no owner's name.
Mickey scanned the destruction tag: August, 2055.
'Same year as the rest,' said Mickey.
'Hmmm -- wonder if that was his prophecy, come true?' said Papa.
'You know, they don't let me take any books along to America,' said Mickey.
'None?'
'They say I can download as many e-books as I like when I'm there, though.'
Mama piped in, 'Make sure you download a Bible, then.'
* * *
Mickey put on the head set and took his seat in the VR console and went off to visit his classmate, Philip Kumar.
He tapped on the button beside Philip's name and waited. He knew Philip wouldn't be far from his console, as they had agreed to meet -- or if he happened to be downstairs, it would page him through his mobile.
The large body of Philip appeared, and his deep voice resounded, 'Hey! Mickey Mao! What gives?'
'New books, la.'
'What kind?'
'You have one, William Gibson, Idoru? One after Virtual Light.'
'Have already. Still no have All Tomorrow's Parties. You have?'
'Don't have. Sorry. But I have this -- weird. My grandpa says written by crackpot prophet of doom. But I think he prophecy about why we get so many books.'
'Cool! Let me see!'
'Here. I put on scanner, you download.'
'Okay, la!'
'Ready for America?'
'Y-es.' There was a bit of hesitation in Philip's voice.
After a pause, he suddenly perked up and said said, 'I hope we can meet Monterey Jack.'
'Who's that?'
'Someone I talk to on-line. Live in California.'
'But California different Internet system!'
'He have to hack. He know we come. He tell us a lot!'
* * *
It was noon siesta time. The workers had finished their lunch, and the kids that had tagged along were enjoying a swim. Robby was with them.
Mickey hoped he was wearing pants. He was on a personal campaign to train his younger siblings to mind their bums in public, and not follow the lax ways of the neighbours' and workers' kids. So far he'd had no help from Papa, Mama, or the rest. Nobody seemed to care.
Now, especially, since being faced with the prospect of showing his true face to his classmates, Mickey's mind had been preoccupied with the difference between life in the fruit orchard and cosmopolitan life. What he saw on TV, their regular trips into Chantaburi City, and the few excursions to the giant Bangkok Metro-Tower had made him well aware of how sophisticated life was in the outside world. His virtual classroom experience, and cyberspace visits with his school mates in private, had only confirmed it.
So, Mickey stood on the veranda and watched. Robby jumped a few times, but not high enough to reveal any white elastic. Maybe he was wearing it low. He was tussling with Pong just now. Pong had him in a hold, with Robby's arm over his shoulder. He pulled, lifting Robby out of the water, revealing only bare white skin.
Mickey sighed.
Grandpa was standing nearby.
'We're so primitive here! Why can't we make the kids wear pants in the water, like they do everywhere else?'
'You used to skinney-dip yourself when you were younger.'
True. He did, before he discovered the rest of the world.
'Yeah, but everywhere else...'
'Hah!' snorted Grandpa. 'When your great-grandpa Boz was young, it was like this all over Thailand. By every riverbank, at bath time, naked children everywhere with nary a second thought. Occasionally, even a grown-up. Mind you, they were careful in other ways. Big boys and girls never kissed. Never even held hands. Young lady, with chaperone, peeping over her fan at the handsomely dressed boy with a hat and walking stick strutting along side their tri-shaw -- that was a date. But in my time? Behind every bush, a boy on top of a girl, pumping away -- later, traipsing off to an abortion clinic. But at bath time at the river, every young bum draped in underpants. Innocence lost -- as though God walked in the garden and said, "Who told you you were naked?" So, now we've come full circle. Which way do you find so primitive?'
Mickey sighed, but otherwise stood silently.
Grandpa added, 'You're going off as a sheep among wolves. Don't you lose your innocence!'

Chapter 2

Mickey had a window seat. Riu sat next to him. The hover-bus sped along in as straight a line as could be navigated, sometimes over the mud flats, sometimes over sea, but swerving around the islands. A line of hover-vehicles before and behind them showed that they were in the correct lane for traffic in their direction.
Ahead of them, he could see Pattaya Island. On this side, what was once Jomtien Beach, now an archipelago of ruined buildings standing in the water. Then, they saw the built up town of Pattaya Island, then beyond were similar ruins demarcating what used to be the great tourist resort of Pattaya City. Further along, was the island of Laem Chabang, then the dyked cities of Sriracha and Chonburi.
Generally the sea was to their left, in Mickey's plain view, and only where they swerved significantly inland, could he see the mudflats, generally to their right, though covered with water at high tide. These were dotted by settlements consisting of buildings on stilts and platforms, people living off their plankton extractors, taking the said produce to market by boat, buying what they could with the proceeds, but otherwise living primitively.
Both Mickey and Riu were silent. Mickey tried to break the silence.
'Wonder what they'll all look like,' he quipped.
'Donno,' answered Rui.
Mickey wondered if Riu was bothered by the same concern as he. He did look quite handsome in real life, Riu's on-line image was slightly different, making him look like some old movie star or other. He shouldn't be that concerned. Why was he so quiet?
On their next to last class session before breaking to embark on their respective journeys to the meeting point, they had discussed the suggestion of coming to their last class session looking like themselves. No one could bring themselves to do it. So now, they were on their way to meet one another with no idea what to expect.
Mickey remembered his grandfather's words, They've probably all got deep dark secrets to hide from the world. He didn't feel so bad now.
So, why was Riu bothered?
'What's the matter?' he ventured, finally.
After a pause, Riu said, 'Grandma isn't well.'
Riu lived with his grandma, Mickey remembered. She was all he had. His parents were both dead.
'Is it pretty bad?'
'Yeah. I wanted to stay with her, but she wants me to go on this trip.'
'She'll be all right when we get back, maybe?'
Riu sighed. 'I hope so.'
They could just see the Bangkok Metro-Tower in the distance, and it grew steadily as they drew near. At high tide, the mud flats were indistinguishable from the open sea making the Bangkok Metro-Tower look, from this distance, as though it were standing on its five legs in middle of the sea. The pentagon formed by the legs was about three kilometres in diameter, and the structure, itself, was about five kilometres high, consisting of millions of cellular compartments suspended in a vast network of hydrolic tubes. Some had called it an overweight version of the Eiffel Tower.
As they came closer, they could see the derelict buildings, parts of the old expressway system, the Skytrain track, and bits of everything else that once stuck up in the air. Some of the more intact buildings were used for fishing villages, some old posts, pillars, and old Skytrain stations housed plankton extractors, or had become warehouses for harvested seaweed -- communities living their primitive lives under the shadow of ultra modern technology.
As they approached the Metro-Tower, the hover-bus aligned itself with one of the thousands of portals leading into the lower levels. After entering, it zoomed on through semi darkness, past lit up areas that whizzed past too quickly to be observed, curving here, turning there, and finally coming to a stop. It was dark outside, but that wasn't the end of the line. The craft suddenly began to ascend like a lift. When it stopped, it again went on, took more turns, until they finally arrived at the hover-bus terminal.
Mickey always wondered why such a big place as a hover-bus terminal didn't have a direct rout to the outside instead of so many twists and turns. It was a big place.
The passengers disembarked on to a platform, and the two students, shouldering their backpacks, started off to the point where they were to meet Philip Kumar, Geoffrey Wong and Marisa Srisomboon. It was a café on the opposite side of the terminal from where they were -- a long walk. So they walked.
The place was crowded. Mickey walked a bit behind Riu, keeping his hand on his back pack so as not to lose him. On his right was a boy wearing thick glasses, apparently by himself. Indian, by the look of him, hardly bigger than Robby. A bit young to be by himself, thought Mickey.
They were about to meet some of the others for the first time. Mickey wondered if some of them were nearby. Philip Kumar, maybe? He glanced about for someone large sized, as he perceived Philip to be. Large, broad shouldered, with a deep voice -- even if he did show childish excitement at times. That tall man up ahead maybe? He looked a bit Indian. What about Marisa Srisomboon? Was that her over near the tall man that could be Philip? If it was, she looked good!
Mickey continued walking, his hand on Riu's backpack. However, in his mind, he was following the tall man up ahead.
There was the café -- but the tall man kept right on walking. So did the lady he hoped was Marisa. Riu and Mickey went in.
Table eleven -- there it was. There were two people sitting there already.
'Hi,' said Riu. 'I'm Riu, you must be ...?'
'Marisa,' said the long haired skinny girl that had looked a bit like Cleopatra on-line.
'Geoffrey,' said the rather fat boy with close cropped hair.
'I'm -- er -- Mickey,' said Mickey.
'Wow!' said Marisa.
'An orang pute!' said Geoffrey. 'Cool!'
'We wait for Philip, then?' said Mickey.
'I guess,' said Marisa.
They sat down.
Mickey looked towards the door, and then around the room. No sign of anyone fitting the description.
About three metres away, between two other tables, was the boy he had noticed earlier, with the thick glasses.
No way!
He was just standing there, looking at them, terrified.
Mickey called out, 'Philip Kumar?'
The boy nodded, and walked slowly towards them.
'Er -- Hi, Philip. I'm Mickey.'
'Hi,' said Philip, in a voice that sound as far from the deep manly computer generated voice as could be imagined.
'You're kidding!' said Marisa.
'Wow!' said Geoffrey.
'Yeah -- wow!' said Riu.
'You sure did a good job on your computer generated image,' said Mickey.
'Thanks, ha ha,' said Philip, smiling for the first time -- though still shyly.
'So,' said Geoffrey. 'What do we do now?'
'I think we're supposed to tell the hostess,' said Marisa. 'There's a meal ordered for us, and then we get on the shuttle to the other terminal.'
'Okay,' said Mickey. 'I'll tell the hostess.'
He did. They sat about the table, nervously, while the meal was brought -- fried noodles with seafood. They ate in silence.
After that, they walked to the inter-terminal shuttle. Philip walked close to Mickey's side, almost as though he were clinging to a big brother for security. Definitely not the image he projected in the virtual classroom.
'You don't look eighteen,' said Mickey.
'Actually, I'm thirteen,' said Philip.
'You -- er -- advanced quickly, then?'
'Yeah.'
'An exceptional child?'
'Ah.'
At least this explained his childish giddiness in class.
They boarded the shuttle and soon they were speeding, twisting and turning, lifting, etc., until they were at the Northern Terminal. Being that this one serviced journeys to more distant places, where travel permits were required, they had to go through a check-in area, where they showed their tickets and travel permits. Then, they had to wait in a transit lounge.
Philip had to use the men's room, but didn't want to go by himself. Mickey went with him.
While Philip went into one of the stalls, Mickey used the urinal, and then went to the sink to wash his hands.
'Ah, Mickey! There you are!' A woman's voice. The tone of voice sound like she was expecting him.
A glance in the mirror told Mickey it was Aunt Rosemary!
'Wow! What are you doing here?'
'I work here now.' She produced her mop as evidence. 'Here. I have something for you.' She began reaching into her apron pocket.
'But -- how did you know I was here?'
'Abe told me two weeks ago you were going, so I took a job here to give you this.' She handed him a brown envelope.
'But -- I didn't even know my travel plans then! We could have left from --'
'Never mind that! Keep this with you. Put it in the inside pocket of your blue jacket. Don't open it until you get to Cactus Head.'
How did she know I had a blue jacket? Where the heck is Cactus Head? 'You got a job here just to see me?'
'Oh, no. The pressure was getting a bit high in Sakeo, so I decided to spend some time in Bangkok. We now have a group meeting in the staff lounge of this terminal. I must go now. Have a good trip. Remember, Cactus Head. Open the envelope there, not before. I'll be praying for you.'
She rushed out the door, just as the toilet flushed. Philip emerged.
'Who was that lady you talk to?'
'My aunt Rosemary,' said Mickey, still in a daze.
'She surprise you?'
'Yes, she did.'
'We better get back. Bus leave soon I think.'
They went back into the waiting area.
Hong Kong would be cooler than Bangkok, so Mickey decided to put on the blue jacket right away. He looked again at the envelope. The handwriting on the front said, 'Open in Cactus Head.' It fit perfectly in the inside pocket.
The departure to Hong Kong was called, so the five students boarded. Philip still stuck close to Mickey and took a seat next to him.
The hover-bus took the coastal rout, around Cambodia and Vietnam. Mickey recognised all the old sights, including Chantaburi, as they passed.
About half way to Hong Kong, Mickey and Philip were once again talking about all the things they used to when Philip was deep voiced giant and Mickey was a brown-skinned Thai: simulations, classic science fiction, and prophecies of doom.

William P. Charters 3,May 1922 - 1 June 2011

My dad's funeral is to be held today, at 3:00 p.m. at Emmanuel Church, Lurgan. The following history will be included in the last two pages of the order of service:

Bill Charters was born on 3, May 1922 to Robert Danford Charters and Edith Armstrong. He was the third of four children, the others being Pearly, Bobby and Edie. They grew up in East Belfast. It was the time of the great worldwide Depression. Their family certainly wasn't well off, their father died early of TB, but their mother supported the family by sewing setee covers. She took the children as often as she could to Cregagh Hall to attend their evangelistic meetings. That left a lasting impression on young Bill.

Later, after surviving the German bombing of Coventry, Bill joined the RAF, where he was a member of ground crew, maintaining radios for bombing missions. Some of his friends became pilots -- some never returned from their missions. Once, he found himself alone in the control tower when a whole squadron of American bombers was requesting permission to land. He had no option but to guide them all in, which he did successfully, even though he hadn't been trained for it. Early, during his time in the RAF, he was invited to hear an evangelist, where he made the decision to follow Jesus.

When the War was over, Bill was kept on while his friends were decommission. However, he realised that this was in answer to prayer, because he was to be sent to India. He had prayed for a chance to engage in missionary work. While in India, he, along with a few other soldiers, worked with a local missionary during their off time, making treks to various villages. Bill came away from there with the desire to be a missionary to Tibet.

Once decommissioned, Bill attended Emmanuel Bible School in Northern England. After some time back in Belfast, where he renewed his relationship with Cregagh Hall, and became acquainted with the WEC prayer network, Bill joined WEC with the intention of going to Tibet. However, Tibet suddenly got taken over by China, and was no longer an option. Someone suggested Thailand, so he went there instead.

In Thailand, Bill joined the WEC team, that then consisted of six, including Rosemary, and her mother, Hazel Hanna. Love blossomed, and after a few short months, Bill Proposed to Rosemary.

The two worked as team, making treks to distant villages via foot-path and river, passing out leaflets -- many of their adventures are documented in Rosemary's book, Cracked Earth (available on-line at www.scribd.com/doc/32454882/Cracked-Earth and in No Turning Back, by Nancy Ashcraft (www.scribd.com/doc/56941684/No-Turning-Back ).

Their son, Robby Charters, was born four years into their marriage.

Dissatisfied with the quality of the literature they were passing out, Bill launched into a career of writing, producing testimony leaflets. Bill and Rosemary began producing a regular journal patterned after two similar regional WEC publications, called Soon. Later, they added to this a journal targeted to churches to encourage them to look outward, pattered after Leslie Brierly's Look to the Fields. In addition, Bill and Rosemary translated several books into the Thai language. These ministries continued until the passing of Rosemary, who succumbed to Cancer on the Thai field in 1990.

Not long after that, Bill was invited to teach at a small Bible School in Pak Chong, in North East Thailand, Christ For Thailand Institute. He kept that up until his retirement, however, slowly phasing that out, spending half of each year (the cooler half!) in Thailand, and the warmer half in Lurgan, where he had settled.

Bill's last trip to Thailand was in 2008, when he sent one more time by Emmanuel Church. There he helped a friend, Jim Arnold by translating Bible training material for a small Bible School in Chiengmai, Northern Thailand.

In 2010, Bill's health began to deteriorate. It began with a heart attack in May, and later, developed a fast spreading form of cancer in the thyroidal. By the time it was detected, it had already lodged itself in the lungs. He went to be with the Lord on 1, June, 2012.

my novella is a run-away best seller -- ok, as a freebie, but still...

Amazon Kindle did me a favour. They decided to make my novella, The Wrong Time a free download to match a promotion of it elsewhere on the internet. I wish they'd do that with a few of my other shorter ones.
The result is that, at this point, between Amazon.com (the U.S. site) and Amazon.uk there have been over 5000 downloads of that novella, and four reviews. Besides that, you'll find two more reviews at GoodReadsj.com, and one comment on one of my posts last year by Carl Bridges. Some of the reviews are useful to me in that they point out errors that I need to correct.

Once I realised what was happening, I put up a new edition, correcting some of the mistakes from the first review I received (corrected "rout" to "route") and then made sure the adverts at the end pointed to the right place, and added a graphic for Pepe. I'd be getting more exposure than I do on my websites -- so long as people are actually reading them.

I know I read only a small fraction of the free e-books that I download.

Print Books

All my books (except Pepe) are now available in print at CreateSpace.com and can be ordered for a very reasonable price, as long as you use the discount code, which I've listed below for each book.
Eetoo: https://www.createspace.com/3588959, using the discount code: UTWBALYA to get it for $11.32
The Story of Saint Catrick: https://www.createspace.com/3591309, using the discount code 28WW23YK for $5.45
The Zondon: https://www.createspace.com/3591287, using the discount code MGPQ6GDC for $12.45

Pepe should be available in a few days. It already has a sales page, but you'll have to wait until it's finished.

Pepe: https://www.createspace.com/3592074, using the discount code MBPH3QYY for $7.30

Print editions coming soon

The last posting said my print books were available at Lulu. That's no longer so. I've decided to have all my books available for print with Create Space. Pepe will also be available in print through them as well -- more on that later.

My novels now available in Print edition

I've now had my three self published novels released in paperback at Lulu.com.

In my previous experiences with POD print editions, I've had two problems: I usually can't use the cover design of my own design, and the price tends to be expensive per copy. With Lulu.com, I've got around both problems. The covers are of my own work, both front and back, and the prices are fairly reasonable. Eetoo is US$12.60; Catrick is US$9.00; and The Zondon is US$13.83. The difference in cost reflects the size. They're all still US$1.99 at Smashwords.com and Amazon Kindle Store.

Anyway, mosey on over and have a look...

Author's own review of Eetoo

About ten years ago, I decided that my writing style and subject matter was too off beat for the mainline Christian audience. Either it was too heavy on the demands of discipleship, or it made Christianity look too Jewish, or it found other ways to bypass the more popular trappings of Christendom. I started to write for the general secular audience -- bigger market share, anyway.

However, if you read any of my novels cover to cover, you will recognise kingdom principals woven throughout -- no, not a "sinner's prayer" tagged at the end, but themes that should help people understand the Kingdom of God without feeling like they're being preached to.

And, yes, some of it will preach to Christians as well. Pepe is a parable of the Kingdom that shows why the Church has operated with more power at some times than at others. The Story of Saint Catrick is about ethnic reconciliation, and The Zondon has the same sort of mix you'll find in C. S. Lewis' Paralandra series. So does Eetoo.

Actually, with Eetoo, I've come full circle. Before you reach the end, you'll realise that it is a blatantly Christian novel. I just hope that atheists and new-agers won't feel betrayed by the sudden appearance of Jesus in the last section.

But it's the "Jesus of History", which again, might be too Jewish for some, the man they called "Yeshua". But I believe I've effectively portrayed the "Jesus of History" as the one that fits with the scripture accounts, and as the One to have faith in.

So, where does it suddenly turn blatantly Christian?

Part three, in a sequence of events that might recall Ben Hur, the characters in the story arrive in Jerusalem in time to occupy a front row seat for passion week. Woven in with their other adventures, are some of the key events of Yeshua's last week, climaxing with His trial, His execution and then, His resurrected presence. In those key events are the answers that the main character, Eetoo, has come looking for. The climax of Yesuha's life thus becomes the climax of the narrative of Eetoo.

But unlike Ben Hur, Eetoo comes from outer space. No, he's not Dr. Who, nor someone who fell of the Enterprise or Voyager (Star Trek). He doesn't barge into first century society with brash 21^st century ideas, leaving half baked quasi-enlightenment in his wake. And it's definitely not Alternative History. Eetoo, himself, is from a primitive tribe, and it's already taken him a while to become accustom to cosmopolitan interstellar society with a human presence that dates back to pre-Egyptian times. He's the right person to intrude.

And he does have questions to be answered. The universe is populated by various intelligent species. Some of them, including an old wizened Utz named Neuryzh, are benevolent towards humanity. They understand that humans, though in many ways inferior to the other species, have a unique quality about them that was designed by the Creator, which, if humans would only realise their potential, would make them superior to all other species.

Others, notably the Groki, have had a bad experience with humanity in the past, particularly during the height of Nephteshi empire. The Nephteshis were as imperialistic and exploitative as any human empire ever was, but that's in the distant past by the time our narrative begins. However, it left proof of one thing: humanity is bad.

One Groki, an acquaintance of Eetoo named Blazz, makes a pointed remark:

'Good fine humans. Yes, I know. I've seen some seemingly peace-loving human communities in my time. The problem is, they invariably give birth to a generation of bad ones. A happy stable community now; in one short celestial age what have you? The happier they are, the more spoiled their brats, who will grow into the monsters of tomorrow. '

Of course, Grokis and other intelligent species live long enough to be able to make such observations. Also, their brain capacity is many times more than that of a human, so Blazz also makes the following comment:

'...But you know, it's a fact: Wherever humans have gone, rats, cockroaches and other vermin have always followed. Those three species seem to be adaptable to every sort of climate and condition... Moreover, it's a known fact that cockroaches are as much lower in intelligence than rats as rats are to humans and humans are to Groki and Sozks.'

But Eetoo also has supporters:

Fra speaks up: 'And so, Mr. Blazz, where exactly do you draw the line between what's an intelligent creature, and what's vermin -- if in fact there is to be a line drawn?'

'I should think that would be obvious!'

'Perhaps, to someone as much more intelligent than the Groki as the Groki is to the human, the answer might not be so obvious, Mr. Blazz.'

'Thus spoken by the administrator of the planet! Mr. Fra, I've heard of some of your problems resulting from the human infestation...'

Humans, rats, cockroaches... Eetoo is reminded of the comparison over and over as he encounters the degradation and squalor of various human communities he comes across in his travels, usually due to actions of other humans. The most striking example is Jerusalem and its environs, the city to which Eetoo has gone to seek answers, only to find more questions.

The following excerpt says it best:

One of the religious looking blokes glares at him and spits as he passes. The man just smirks back.

'Probably a tax collector,' says Alexander.

The man and his bodyguards turn into one of the nicer houses.

'Everyone hates them,' says Alexander. 'They work for the Romans, and get filthy rich off it. You'll never see them without their personal bodyguards, or if you do, you'll find them dead next time you turn around.'

'For good reason too!' says a man walking near us. 'You see all the beggars? You know why the countryside's so full of robbers?' He's obviously very religious, the way he's dressed.

'The Imperial taxes, I suppose,' says Nicanor.

'Yes, and if that weren't enough to break one, these traitors collect double their share of it.'

'I've heard that too,' says Alexander.

'And if that weren't enough, there's one more thing.'

'Which is...?'

He gets close to us and says in a whisper, 'Our own Temple tax! Those pagans that run our Temple send their men to collect our tithes, our first fruits -- fruit or no fruit -- redemption of our first-born -- every bit as vicious as the Romans, they are! If people can't pay up, they lose their land. Then, they have no choice but to beg. By the time they realise there isn't enough charity to support a population of beggars, (if they aren't already dying from malnutrition) they do the only sensible thing: join the robber gangs.'

Now, we're about to enter the synagogue, so we quiet down.

At this point, I should acknowledge Shalom Ache's The Nazarine, a very long but informative novel written by a Jewish author. Not only does he set Yeshua's life and ministry firmly in a Jewish setting, but he seems to know his stuff. It's good reading, but I never got through the whole thing -- only enough to populate my description of the life and topography of Jerusalem, the High Priestly family and other aspects of first century Jewish life. I've also learned a lot from my readings of scholars such as E.P. Sanders, David Flusser and other sources related to what's now called "Jesus Studies", including information on the Dead Sea Scrolls, rabbinical literature, Pseudographical literature, etc. I even attended the synagogue for a period (I was tempted to apply for the post of shavos goy), and read bits of the Talmud and Midrashim in their library. I'm fairly confident that if a rabbi or any scholar of first century history would read it, they'll find Eetoo satisfactory as to the technical details. Eetoo also contains a glossary at the back that gives information on some of the details.

In spite of being informative and historically accurate (when it comes to actual known history), it's still got suspense and intrigue.

One of the laws of the universe (in our narrative) is that every intelligent species has the right to live, so long at the planet of their birth is still habitable. Earth, the planet of humanity's birth may be destroyed by fire, unless the Supreme One extends the covenant. (Here, I expanded on an obscure rabbinical tradition that the Earth would have been destroyed a thousand years earlier had Israel not accepted the covenant at Mt. Sinai). If Earth is destroyed, humanity has no right to exist, and the galactic Groki community intends to be their executioner. No one knows the actual location of the planet, so the burden of proof that it hasn't been destroyed, rests on humanity. This is a part of Eetoo's mission.

Eetoo is, in fact, the one prophesied to find the secret door to Earth (a teleportation device, a bit like Stargate), to go to obtain the golden tablets that Noah had given to Shem, that would complete human understanding of things. On finding them, Eetoo finds they refer to events currently taking place in Jerusalem. However, things don't seem to go as they're supposed to. In fact, events take a horrible turn as the key person, who is supposed to redeem the planet, instead gets himself crucified. All is lost ...

Well ...

I also have some ideas for sequels and prequels. The next one would start at the very beginning with Adam and Eve. In our series, we call them Father Red Earth and Mother Life. My working title is The Language. Here's the prologue to the first chapter:

In the beginning was the language, and the language was one. The one language encompassed all of existence. There was nothing, no aspect of anything, nor any description, nor feeling that could not be fully communicated by means of that language.

It was the language used to create. The words, 'Let there be light', included every property of the light that was to be created. The word 'earth' contained the blueprint for earth. The word, 'oxygen', described the subatomic structure of the oxygen atom. The word 'sheep' had within it, the DNA of the sheep. This was the language of Divinity.

The language of humanity was a subset of that. In the same way that the original Language could create matter out of nothing, the language of humanity could create virtual worlds. -- from The Book of Methushalech

Suffice it to say that early humanity was more high-tech than we give them credit for. But that ended at the Tower of Babel, where they lost the Language.

In another sequel: The fiery chariot that took Elijah up was, in fact, a space ship. He became a character in my first attempt at science fiction, an unmarketable novel I entitled Space Brothers, which I may rewrite for this series.

Anyway, you can find Eetoo here...

John C. Wright's Gospel of the End Times

When I read Orphans of Chaos, by John C. Wright, my first impression was that the author must be some sort of Gnostic pagan, as that sort of philosophy seemed to shine through the narrative. However, when I did my research (okay -- Google) it turned out that at the time he wrote that piece of fantasy fiction, he was an atheist, and the Gnosticism was no more than a backdrop for that particular series of novels. However, since that time, he had converted to Christianity, influenced in a large part by the writings of C.S.Lewis. He's still a fan of C.S.Lewis, and also of G.K.Chesterton. In fact, John C. Wright is now a Roman Catholic (like Chesterton was).

It's rather ironic, in one sense. C.S.Lewis, a Protestant, was converted from atheism through the influence of J.R.R.Tolkien, a Catholic. John C. Wright, a Catholic, was converted from atheism through the influence of C.S.Lewis, a Protestant. I said, ironic, but it's also intensely beautiful in another.

Lest any of my Protestant friends are of the opinion that Catholics are so tradition bound as to obscure any hope of them finding saving faith within their walls, here's a blog post by John C. Wright that will dispel that illusion. He paints his scenario through the medium of Noah, preparing for the destruction of the world. His eschatology is right on, the message is cross centred, and he even acknowledges some of the mistakes made by the Mother Church during the middle ages, insinuating that the church, under persecution, has faired better. Here's a couple of quotes:

The Orthodox Church, the Nestorians, the Copts, the Syrians, and all the Indians instructed by St. Thomas have been ground under the bootheels of pagan kings and paynim sultans for over a thousand years: they have more martyrs to their glory and more saints than earned the palm in the West. When the Church was burdened with worldly power, one thing she ended up doing was corrupting herself, and shattering via Reformation and Counter-Reformation, wars, tumults, and persecutions, into fragments large and small. It was not until the Enlightenment that the keys to the liquor cabinet where the wine of worldly power is stored were locked away from our poor, drink-besotted Mother Church.

And another one:

... So, no, Christians do not need to be in the shoes of Caesar or Pontius Pilot to save the world. That salvation was done by one whose feet were pierced by nails: as far as the world could see, a crackpot agitator who died a traitor’s grisly death. This is because the world sees things backward. The cross the world sees as an instrument of torture, humiliation, and death we Christians see as exalted, and we take it as our labarum of comfort, glory, and victory.

How's that for a Catholic? Read it yourself...

Jesus, Before He Became a Gentile

A very good, concise treatise on the Jewishness of Jesus/Yeshua on Gene Shlomovich's blog -- actually an excerpt from the book, Does God Play Favourites? by Jim Gerrish, readable online.

Fundamentalists vs anti-Fundamentalists

Scott McKnight, at Jesus Creed, is changing his blogging platform. Right now, he has posts up at both his old site and his new one (different posts). I'm not sure how it happened, but one of the posts, prominently visible, as though it was posted in the last few days, is this one, dated 17 Dec., 2008. Maybe the dating thing on the blogging environment isn't working properly, or what? Anyway it's a good blog post about fundamentalists, and how people who have switched to newer ideas can be just as opinionated and hard shelled about their new position as they were about their fundamentalist ideas. Anyway, go there for a good read, and while you're there, take not of their new URL.

...and now, Islamophobia

I just now posted a blog about homophobia, and I read one by Brian Mclaren about Islamophobia.

Apparently, last year, he observed the fast of Ramudan. Before you quibble, what does the Bible actually say about Ramudan? Where is the command to stay away from it?

In much the same spirit, here's couple of blog posts I did a few years back: Letter to a Moslem and The Blessings of Ishmael (the latter was posted just a few days after 9-11)

There's a lot of debate, both in Christian circles and Moslem, as to what extent does the Koran support terrorism. A lot has to do with the definition of jihad. To some, it means all out war against infidels -- thus, a mandate to plant bombs on aeroplanes. To others, it simply means the struggle against sin and injustice, whether it be an inner struggle or outward activism. Since I'm not an authority on Islamic theology, I'll leave it to the experts, and give them the benefit of the doubt.

Two more sticking points would be that Islam doesn't believe that Yeshua died on the cross and rose again. They believe he came from God, and is something far beyond any other human prophet. They even call Him the Word. However, the issue of Messiah's death is a major stumbling block (as the cross often is).

The other point is that they don't believe it proper to call Yesua the son of G-d, as Allah doesn't have children. On that point, I wonder if that wasn't a reaction to some Christians during Mohamed's day treating the issue as though G-d had given birth to Yeshua like a human father, through Mary. I could see their point. However, that isn't such a major hurdle, as they still refer to Yeshua as The Word of Allah. In Christian theology, the Word is really what we mean by "begotten of the Father", so in a dialogue with Moslems, we can easily refrain from saying "Son of G-d" and use "Word of G-d" instead.

So, we're left with the stumbling block of the cross, which I'm willing to bare.

Apart from that, there are a number of things that Moslems do better than most Christians, and one of them is fasting, which is what Brian Mclaren did last Ramudan.

Good Samaritan -- retold

I believe there is a difference between homophobia and simply believing that homosexuality isn't G-d's intention for human sexuality. Homophobia affects who we make friends with, how we do politics, and generally gets us tied up in knots.

I don't consider myself homophobic, but I believe that, according to the Bible, homosexuality isn't the right choice. I also don't believe being an alcoholic is the right way, nor sex outside of marriage, nor experimenting with potentially harmful drugs. In the various jobs I've held, I've been good personal friends with people in probably all these categories. I still keep in touch with some of them via Facebook and Skype. None of them calls me alcoholo-phobic, sexo-phobic or drugo-phobic. I just don't indulge in those lifestyles, myself, and my belief in Yeshua keeps me away from it. I also don't believe in bowing down to idols, but I have no trouble at all living in Thailand, where most people do -- including good friends.

I actually don't know anyone whom I'm certain is gay, but I hope they differentiate between homophobia and simply believing it's not G-d's way. However, I have heard rhetoric from that general direction that seems to leave out that option. I'd gladly discuss the subject with them over a pint down at the pub. Just one pint, mind you -- more than that, I start feeling it in the head -- but make it the pub of your choice.

Now, on the other side, here's a news story that makes me think. If Yeshua were telling his parables today, would he have told his story of the Good Samaritan in this context? This was brought to my attention by Tony Jones on Twitter (@jonestony) and it points to a blog post entitled A Modern Good Samaritan Story: Gay Couple Saves Life of Homophobic Neighbor. It's an interesting story that makes one think.

Now, the original story of the Good Samaritan: Yeshua seemed to have a lot of good things to say about individual Samaritans. However, he also agreed with the concusses of Orthodox Judaism that Samaritanism wasn't the right way (John 4:22). They only believed in the Torah, and rejected the Prophets. They refused to worship in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and didn't believe in the Davidic lineage -- which hit at the very basis for Yeshua's claim as Messiah. But it was the Samaritan, in the story, who obeyed the great commandment.

I'm sure many would believe that Yesuah would, without any reservation, have used a Palistinian instead of a Samaritan, or had a Catholic saving a Prod near the peace line in Belfast (or vice versa), or a black saving a Ku Klux Klaner... would he have used the example as recorded in the news story?

Review of Gerald Seymour's Harry's Game

Any book Gerald Seymour writes about the troubles in Northern Ireland is probably worth the read. He was one of ITN's top reporters covering the situation between 1969 and 1976. His novel, Harry's Game, has the copyright date of 1975, so that puts the timing of the narrative, probably after Bloody Sunday, but well before the Hunger Strikes.

It was made into a miniseries in 1982. So, ask me, why am I reviewing a book written so long ago, that's already made it as a miniseries?

Because it's still a good read, and I missed the miniseries (and it's not like I care how old a book is or how much footage it inspired; I may review Little Dorret next).

Because it's a good education for anyone wanting to know the background of the troubles.

Because I recently moved to an area right within walking distance of most of the action in the narrative.

We are a bit new to the area. When people comment on my accent, I tell them, "We're Irish. We've just been away too long" (but people outside Ireland think I sound Irish). My dad was an East Belfast man. My cousins on his side of the family still live there. My Uncle Bob (my namesake) passed away during the general period covered in the book.

We recently moved from Thailand back to NI, and found a nice house in North Belfast. Belfast isn't a major metropolis, but my East Belfast cousins hardly knew the lay of the streets before they came to look us up. Our area, and nearby West Belfast are the areas known for the Troubles (with a capital "T"), whereas East Belfast has always been relatively peaceful. Relocating from East Belfast to West is almost tantamount to emigration -- let alone moving from Thailand.

The other day, I decided to walk, rather than take the bus, from my home to the city centre. I took a short cut down the footpath behind the Ballysillan Leisure Centre, which ran into the top end of Ardoyne Road, the very neighbourhood where Billy Downs lived (the assassin in the story). A lot of development has taken place since those days, but one section of it, closer to Crumlin Road, looked like it was still run down with lots of Nationalist graffiti. However, some of the more prominent murals look like an attempt to put the Troubles behind them. One prominent sign, facing the roads leading in from Shankill says, "Please respect our community."

I walked straight from there into the Shankill area, which I probably couldn't have have done in the early days of the troubles, because Shankill is as hard core Prod as Ardoyne is Catholic.

While parts of Harry's Game may read like a tour guide to those who have spent time in the area, Gerald Seymour is equally knowledgeable about the people themselves, their culture, their fears, the hatred and whatever else makes them tic.

Harry, the leading character, was actually from Portadown (a town an hour's drive South of Belfast), who spent most of his life in the army away from Northern Ireland. When British Intelligence asks him to go under-cover to Belfast to seek out the assassin of a cabinet minister, he has to learn how to speak in a West Belfast accent. He has only two weeks to prepare. He also learns the style of the Falls Road residents, that bred by suspicion and fear of outsiders, and a fear of saying too much.

Within the two weeks he has to prepare, he cultures an accent that pleases his superiors, but we find that not everyone in West Belfast is fooled. His land lady wonders that he sounds authentically West Belfast for a few words, and then suddenly other sounds creep in. It doesn't seem natural. She mentions it to a neighbour over the back fence. Tight knit community that it is, word gets to the local IRA lookout who reports the fact to the Brigade intelligence officer. They decide to keep an eye on the stranger.

This isn't adventure hero fiction. Harry isn't James Bond -- nor even "Dirty Harry". This is true to life fiction. Things happen like they would in real life. People bungle, especially the Secret Service network giving support to Harry. First, they direct him to the wrong type of guest-house. He realises that and finds a more appropriate one himself, up Falls Road, the more likely place to find an IRA assassin. Because they don't know where he is, Harry's boss is dependent on the occasional phone call he makes from the city centre. This is highly unusual for an intelligence operation. Other parties, like the police and the army, have their opinion about this.

It would never happen to James Bond, but, as we said...

By a miracle, Harry happens to make friends with the right girl. Parental warning here: read it yourself first, before passing it on to your teenager. After an intimate scene, the girlfriend Josephine, lets out some information that might be a lead. Harry passes this on to his boss, and he, to the Army people in Belfast. They pick up a girl, Theresa, who happened to get intimate with the assassin Harry is looking for.

Theresa lets out only enough information to confirm that it was the the man they were looking for, no name, no description, then she kills herself.

While the powers-that-be agree that Harry did his job well, things are a mess. Riots ensue. The hit man, Billy Downs, is assigned a revenge attack on the RUC chief of interrogation, whom the IRA holds responsible for the death of the girl.

As for Harry, he's run out of leads. He gets a job in a scrap yard, and digs in for the long haul. Where James Bond would always have a card up his sleeve and keep the movie audience on the edge of their seats, our real-world spy has run out of tricks.

But don't worry. There's enough happening on the other fronts to keep the story moving. All the while, we see the way things are done behind closed doors; how more assassinations are being planned; how important people are known on a need-to-know basis; guns and other weapons are used and immediately removed so that no one actually has a gun when the army is doing a routine search; how doors are left open so that snipers flee the scene by entering by the front door, while the family is having their supper, and out the back. We find out what Mrs. Down's really thinks about her husband being an assassin -- once she guesses the truth.

Finally, Harry's girlfriend puts two and two together: her mentioning it to Harry was what led to the poor girl, Theresa, being rounded up and killing herself. Then, Harry makes a slip of the tongue that confirms that he isn't who he's saying he is. Josephine grills him, but because she isn't a die-hard fanatic for the Republican cause, she lets it go. In the process, she lets slip another small detail that leads to Billy Down's identification.

Then, things begin to build up to a climax. The IRA people are about to catch Harry. The tables turn, but not in a James Bond sort of way, and Harry is after his man. The ending is climactic, but it's the type of thing that could happen in real life -- a lesson to be learned.

It's not a story about heroes versus villains, only the people on both sides. In the end, you'll find you've not really identified 100% with either side. It will help you appreciate the facts on the ground.

I do have one word of advice. If you plan to read it, don't read the Wikipedia article first -- too many spoilers there.

Israel, What Are Christians to Think?

Some good sound opinions at Derek Leman's website on the current uproar regarding Israel. On one side are the Christian Zionists, who would shout "Yeah Israel" no matter what they did, for good or for bad; on the other, those who won't ever give Israel the benefit of the doubt about anything, and even begrudge them the right to exist as a state.

Here's what Derek has to say:

Let me suggest a Jewish view, a biblical view of the situation:

1. Israel is the people elected freely and irrevocably by God, whose destiny and purpose serve as the forefront of God’s plan of world redemption.
2. Israel’s relationship with God is one of unconditional love and favor, but its temporal fortunes are tied to the covenant relationship through Torah.
3. The state of Israel is a secular government with little regard for Torah, which is obligated to follow the divine commandments and is not, and which is not guaranteed peace or success in any generation until there is renewal.

Read here for more...

William Gibson, on the "future" of Science Fiction

To some, "future" is what science fiction is all about. William Gibson begs to differ. His last few books have been set in the present (as for myself, at least one of my SF books is set in the distant past, during Earth's recorded history).

The blog post I'm highlighting here is that of William Gibson, himself, and it's a transcription of a luncheon talk on the release of his latest novel, Zero History. He starts by giving some current events which, I must admit, do sound like SF:

Say it’s midway through the final year of the first decade of the 21st Century. Say that, last week, two things happened: scientists in China announced successful quantum teleportation over a distance of ten miles, while other scientists, in Maryland, announced the creation of an artificial, self-replicating genome. In this particular version of the 21st Century, which happens to be the one you’re living in, neither of these stories attracted a very great deal of attention.

It's a great talk for anyone interested in the genre of science fiction. Read the rest here...

twinkle twinkle giant star...

sung to the tune of a familiar nursery rhyme:

twinkle twinkle giant star
now i understand what you are
many light-years up so high
nuclear furnace in the sky ...

do you wish upon that star?
please, oh please, stay where you are!

Jewish Prophecy

For the last six or seven years, I've been on the list of a Yahoo Group called JewishClubMaoz@yahoogroups.com . I'm not sure how I got the invitation to join, but I got it and I did. Many on the list appear to be Zionist radicals of the non Messianic sort -- a few of them, militant. Now and then I've found a gem. I believe I've found one just now. It would be easy, of course, to take the following the wrong way, but I believe there's something there.

This is not the usual sort of thing that a nice Christian boy like me would post on a blog, but here goes:

Prophecy

Prof. Paul Eidelberg

Many Jews talk about the need to make Israel an authentic Jewish state, and of course they know what is an authentic Jewish state. It's a state based on the Torah, on the Sinai Covenant. It's a state whose ultimate purpose is to sanctify the Name of God by revealing His infinite Wisdom, Power and Graciousness in every domain of existence.

But if we understand what an authentic Jewish state is, why don’t we have a road map to such state? The basic reason is because we have focused our attention and energies on the “Arab problem,” more precisely the “Palestinian problem.” This is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not only is entire world is focused on the Palestinian problem, but Israel's Government is committed to the establishment of an Arab-Islamic state on Israel's own territory! Let's try to get to the bottom of this bizarre situation.

(1) Israeli governments have focused the world’s attention on the Palestinian problem because these foolish governments have failed to address Israel's most fundamental problem the Jewish problem!

(2) Stated another way, every Israeli government has been focused on the territorial-

cum-security issue. So lo and behold, Israel is losing territory and has never been more insecure!

Want more? Okay.

(3) Israel’s (paranoid) prime ministers are always preoccupied with Israel’s image in the media or among the nations. This is precisely why Israel has never had a more horrible image among the nations.

Are you getting the message? You all know that the Zionist enterprise had two basic goals: to provide for the security and restore the dignity of the Jewish people by establishing a Jewish state in Eretz Israel. Right?

But where was God in this scenario? Do you find God mentioned in Theodor Herzl’s The Jewish State—Herzl, the only name mentioned in the document now called Israel’s Declaration of Independence?

So, instead of God, what does Israel look up to—because if a people have nothing to look up to, it’s on the way to looking down on its feet. Instead of looking up to God it will look up to man. It’s called "humanism." But inasmuch as biologists such as Richard Dawkins have shown that man is descended from the apes, an awful lot of Israelis have discovered that Israel has no statesman at the helm—just apes!

Let me put it another way. What do Israel’s decision-makers and opinion-makers exalt? But of course—DEMOCRACY! Everyone knows this. Everyone knows that the paramount concern of Israel’s ruling elites—politicians and judges, academics and journalists—is to secure Israel’s reputation as a Democracy. This is what gives Israel's government Legitimacy and Israel's elites with Respectability. Right? But notice that the nations are now seeking to delegitimize Israel despite its vaunted democracy! Sort of ironic, no?

But where is the Torah in this Israeli scenario? Wasn’t it the Torah that preserved the Jewish people and endowed them with personal and national dignity?

Will someone tell me what would have happened to the Jewish people after the destruction of the Second Temple without the Torah? Why they would have become as extinct as the dodo. Which means that had Israel been led by the likes of Yitzhak Rabin (read Shimon Peres), Ehud Barak, Ariel Sharon, Ehud Olmert, and Binyamin Netanyahu—and let's add that "everything-is-justiciable" jurisprudent Aharon Barak—the Jews would have suffered the fate of the Neanderthals.

Poor Israel! Having abandoned the God of Israel and the Torah, various leaders of the so-called Jewish state are so desperate that they solicit the political support of Christians! Christians may think this is the fulfillment of prophecy.

But the Jewish sages knew that in the end of days, Israel would be ruled by paltry governments. That's where Israel is today. Like the foolish governments of Europe and the United States, they are succumbing to Allah and the Quran—to barbarians. But don't despair. The Jewish sages saw the current state of affairs as a preliminary to a renaissance of Hebraic civilization.

Jesus Manifesto: The Interview with the Authors at Next Wave

With all the perceptions of what "Emerging Church" stands for (ie: neo-liberal, social gospel, etc), I find this a breath of fresh air. It's written from what I would broadly refer to as Emerging Church, and it brings an emphasis that many see as lacking, namely, the centrality of Yeshua -- thus, the title Jesus Manifesto. Here are some quotes from the interview that stood out to me:

Frank: We believe that the Jesus disclosed to us in the New Testament is the same Christ whom the Holy Spirit reveals today. He is the Christ of the cosmos, the Christ of Eternity, the Alpha and the Omega, as well as the Christ who lived on this earth as the quintessential human – the second Adam, or more accurately, the Last Adam – who then died, rose again, was glorified, ascended, enthroned, and now lives in His people...

...Scholars have spent a lot trying to figure out the exact nature of the erroneous teaching that captured the minds and hearts of the Colossian believers.

One of the reasons why there is so much debate over it is because Paul never directly addresses the problem. Paul’s primary way of dealing with church problems is to give God’s people a stunning unveiling of Jesus Christ. (Therein lies a valuable lesson for all church leaders.)...

...One side argues for the Jesus of justice – who is largely derived from the Gospel accounts. The other side argues for the Jesus of justification – who is largely drawn from some of Paul’s statements in Galatians and Romans.

While Len and I embrace the Jesus of justice and the Jesus of justification, our book attempts to present a Christ who is far greater, far more glorious, and far richer than simply being the Justice-Giver or the Justifier.

We feel that this third vision of Jesus is sorely neglected in our time. It’s possible to put justice and justification on the throne, and leave the living Christ out in the cold....

...With respect to your last question, I am of the opinion that the driving force of much of the house church, organic church, simple church, and missional church movements is not Jesus Christ. And so I’d like to see this changed. Hopefully, God will use the book toward that end...

Read the whole interview here...

From New York Times: The deminishing stigma of being self published

Times are changing, as this article from New York Times suggests -- entitled The Rise of Self-Publishing:

In this time of Twitter feeds and self-designed Snapfish albums and personal YouTube channels, it’s hard to remember the stigma that once attached to self-publishing. But it was very real. By contrast, to have a book legitimately produced by a publishing house in the 20th century was not just to have copies of your work bound between smart-looking covers. It was also metaphysical: you had been chosen, made intelligible and harmonious by editors and finally rendered eligible, thanks to the magic that turns a manuscript into a book, for canonization and immortality. You were no longer a kid with a spiral notebook and a sonnet cycle about Sixth Avenue; you were an author, and even if you never saw a dime in royalties, no one could ever dismiss you again as an oddball.

But times have changed...

Hypnotist turned best selling novelist

Here's an excerpt of a really great novel written by a hypnotist who made a career change to writing novels:

You are enjoying yourself. You can't stop reading. You will keep reading this all the way to the last page, stopping only to go to the toilet, or eat, or other urgent business, but you will go right back to reading this. You can't put it down. When you reach the end of this book, you feel like you've had the most wonderful reading experience you've ever had. You will tell your friends. You will look for other books written by me, and buy them immediately.
You are enjoying yourself. You can't stop reading. You will keep reading this all the way to the last page, stopping only to go to the toilet, or eat, or other urgent business, but you will go right back to reading this. You can't put it down. When you reach the end of this book, you feel like you've had the most wonderful reading experience you've ever had. You will tell your friends. You will look for other books written by me, and buy them immediately.
You are enjoying yourself. You can't stop reading. You will keep reading this all the way to the last page, stopping only to go to the toilet, or eat, or other urgent business, but you will go right back to reading this. You can't put it down. When you reach the end of this book, you feel like you've had the most wonderful reading experience you've ever had. You will tell your friends. You will look for other books written by me, and buy them immediately.

LOL !!!!!!

My books in the Amazon Kindle Store

My three self published novels are now available on Amazon.com in their Kindle Store. Look at them right here.

The price might be confusing, depending on what part of the world you're viewing them from. They should be available for $1.99 USD each. However, when I log in from N. Ireland, they show $4.69 USD. I think there might be a difference in what part of the world you're buying from.

If you're outside of U.S.A., you can still buy them for $1.99 USD at Smashwords.com. It's also available in a format your Kindle can read, as well as iPad, and numerous other formats.

That Makes Two (self published authors making a living)

Two interviews within days of each other of authors who have succeeded in making a living off their self published e-book sales: J. A. Konrath, and Karen McQuestion (click and read their stories).

For some of us (authors) that's good new.

Understanding Current Thai Politics

Thai society could be roughly divided between two groups:

Group # 1, a.k.a. the Yellow Shirts: The educated urbanites (though not all living in the cities) who are knowledgeable and supportive of the democratic process. They are the ones responsible for making Bangkok into a modern high-tech metropolis, to match modern high-tech metropolises world over. They are the group that most Westerners would identify with, as they know how to make the system work without breaking all the rules. That's not to say they don't break the rules often enough -- that's called corruption, of which Thailand has its fair share -- both sides.

Group # 2, a.k.a. the Red Shirts: The rural peasantry (though not all living in the rural areas) who have largely been left out of the process, and have been waiting a very long time to see any of the wealth generated by Group # 1 trickle down to them. They are not so well informed of the ways of democracy. However, without them, Thailand would not be a net exporter of rice and other foods, and without their cheap labour, Bangkok wouldn't enjoy the impressive skyline that it has. For that matter, perhaps, some of the wealth has trickled down, at least to those that provide the cheap labour, but they're also the first to suffer when an econimic crises hits.

Enter: Thaksin Shinawatra, a wealthy businessman cum politician, who made what Group # 1 considers to be overly rash campaign promises. He became the prime-minister with a land slide vote, and proceeded to keep, at least most, of his campaign promises (or enough of them to impress those of Group # 2). For the first time the members of Group # 2 were happy that someone at the top seemed to be aware that they exist. For the first time, real benefits began trickling down to them.

As far as Group # 1 is concerned, Thaksin Shinawatra was breaking all the rules. His war on drugs involved allowing the police to shoot to kill whenever they see a known drug dealer or drug lord. He bypassed all departments and bureaucracy to get benefits to the people. In fact, he was quite autocratic.

If you were to ask me, I'm reminded of the fact that, had Adolf Hitler died in 1939, he would have gone down as one of the greatest heads of state the world has ever known, for taking Germany out of the ashes and bring prosperity to the common people. It wasn't nice and smooth as the normal democratic process ought to be, but the common people agreed that his actions were timely and effective. Only later did he began to show his colours as the villain that he was. By then, he had Germany's working class and peasantry solidly behind him.

While the principals of democracy may be second nature to you and I, and to those of Group # 1, as far as Group # 2 is concerned, it's all a load of Western gibberish that hasn't done them any good. All they see is, Thaksin brought results, where normal democracy didn't. Personally, I'd agree that Thaksin Shinawatra's policies needed taming down, but if I put myself in the shoes of the typical North-Eastern farmer, or semi-employed construction worker, or Bangkok taxi driver, the answer isn't so easy.

For right now, there are no easy answers for Thai politics.

An author who earns a living off e-books

This is good news -- for me, anyway:

So much media attention has been given to the iPad and to eBooks lately that it made GalleyCat wonder aloud: Is it possible for an author to make a living from selling eBooks?

Author, J.A. Konrath of the Jack Daniels series says, "Yes." He has successfully built a career and a living wage doing exactly that. In our interview with him, he tells us exactly how he did it, what the advantages and disadvantages are of publishing traditionally and why he says his books are outselling even bestselling authors such as James Patterson.

Read on for the interview:

What is "Full Time Ministry?"

A great post by Charlie Wear on what it means to be in full time ministry:

Over the years I have heard numbers of people say, “I wish I could be in full-time ministry.” What they are saying is, “I wish I could stop working as a ___________ (you fill in the blank) and work full-time as a pastor, or missionary, or nonprofit leader of some kind.” It is only in the last few months that I have figured out that Jesus wants me to be in full-time ministry and he has wanted that to be my condition from the day he called me to follow him.

In the last few months I have had a shift in my worldview, especially concerning my business as a lawyer. I have begun to see my law practice as my “flock,” the people God has sent to me for ministry. Since that shift I have begun to see my clients through Jesus’ eyes and my daily life as one divine appointment after another. The results have been mind-blowing! I have seen Jesus enter the courtroom with me and set a captive free. I have been given the opportunity to share the good news about Christ with others. I have prayed for physical healing and seen instantaneous results. I have comforted the bereaved and the hopeless. It has been an amazing time.

Read the whole thing...

Revamped Home Page

I've just revamped the hub page for my website. It's now a show case for all my novels and other creations. Take a look...

There's a shortened URL for it: tinyurl.com/robbysbooks

All the usual free stuff as well as my published novels are there.

My novella, The Wrong Time, has been reviewed at Readers Favorite

One of my novellas, which are free downloads from Smashwords, has been reviewed at Readers Favorite. The novella is entitled The Wrong Time. Below is a description of the story, followed by an excerpt of the review at Readers Favorite:

I thought all this stuff about time warps and things was silly scifi stuff. I'm not a fan of Star Trek or any of these other things -- which I thought was for people who couldn't get a life, who sit in their parents basement with their chemistry sets and oscilloscopes. I thought I was a level headed, successful, morally responsible member of society. Until one day I stepped into ... THE WRONG TIME

Now, here's an excerpt from the review:

Sean is transported to a parallel universe. He meets people, and goes here and there,trying to find his way back home to his wife, Erin.

In some universes, he is married to Mimi; he doesn’t like it, so he looks for a universe where he was happy with Erin. It isn’t easy, but after many attempts, he gets the hang of it. Sean travels to multiple universes and enjoys the freedom it gives him; he becomes a time traveler. In one universe, he is a bestselling author, while in his real world, he is not. ...

... With every visit he has changed something and created another alternative universe. Shortly, Sean, the author, gets tired of the reckless nature of his traveling self and conceives a plan to keep him on his home world.

This is a refreshing, engaging read. Sci-Fi and time travel aficionados will appreciate it. I recommend it to adults and teens.

Read the whole thing at Readers Favorite...

Tribalism

Here are some gems of wisdom from the Chabad website's "Ask The Rabbi", Tzvi Freeman. Read the whole article and you'll gain a better understanding of Jewish reasons for Torah Observance, as well as some insight into aspects of sociology. This is a must-read for missiologists, emergents, anyone who wonders about the importance of culture ...

Here is but a small quote...

Sociology became a science with the publication Emile Durkheim's monograph on suicide in 1897. Durkheim was a nice Jewish boy who had studied in yeshiva to become a rabbi, as his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him, but then left to think for himself and challenge his teachers at the Sorbonne. In his paper, Durkheim blamed most of society's woes (especially suicide) on the abandonment of tribalism. He coined the term anomie, which means a state of society where nobody knows who they are, what they have to do with one another or what on earth they're doing here. Durkheim demonstrated, through the first methodological, scientific study of a social phenomenon, that in turn-of-the-century France, suicide was the realm of the tribeless—meaning the Protestant and the agnostic. Catholics and Jews rarely committed suicide. Because they felt no anomie.

What this runaway-yeshiva boy ironically demonstrated, and others after him confirmed is that a human being without a tribe is like a polar bear without ice—he can survive, but he'll be awfully confused. It's through his relationship with the tribe that a human being knows that the earth beneath his feet is solid ground, that tomorrow is a day like today, that he is who he is and it's okay to be that way. Take the tribe away and none of that remains necessarily true.

There's a lot more. Read it for yourself...

It's Read an E-Book Week

E-book information and free e-books define Read an E-Book Week. From March 7-13th major e-book retailers and authors offer free, or deeply discounted e-books for the event. These e-books will be available in the E-Book Store. Many of our participants have free, or discounted e-books throughout the year, so please return often to see what is available.

Some of my ebooks, free during E-book Week are:

• The Story of Saint Catrick -- Free for this week only
• Eetoo -- Free for this week only
• The Zondon -- Free for this week only

To take advantage of the offers, go to the links, and find a coupon code on the right hand column to include in your order so as to activate the offer.

Catrick has been reviewed at Readers Favourites

The Story of Saint Catrick has been reviewed at Readers Favourite:

In this fantasy, the animal kingdom was at war. The Cats felt superior to all other species. The Rodents battled for their freedom from the Cats' rule and the Cats battle to escape the Dogs' rule. There was one lone voice of reason in the midst of war. Catrick was inducted into the service and went off to war, just a tiny kitten. He was injured and nursed back to health by a family of mice. He became a professor at the university and he related his story to the kittens. The kittens revolted against their own species. Catrick`s message,live together in harmony, was spread throughout the land. Catrick and his followers faced riots, political adversity and prejudice from their own families.

There is a strong message behind this story. The author clearly defines his point. The plot is well developed, quite interesting and very deep. Robby Charters is very talented and creative.

read it...

Pepe has been reviewed at Readers Favourites

Here's the latest review of Pepe, at Readers Favourite:

Pepe and Po live on the streets after a fire destroys their apartment building. They find shelter in an abandoned building along with other street kids. Jose is a drug addict. Raquel and her twin brothers also live there. They make friends with Raul, a rich kid and computer whiz. He realizes Pepe is in grave danger and tries to help him.

Danger lies ahead for Pepe when he faces corrupt government, killer robots and his true identity. This is a futurist book. It is action packed and held my attention to the last page. The characters interact well with each other. Fans of science fiction will enjoy Pepe.

read it...

Global Warming -- or not Global Warming?

An interesting article was re-tweeted by Bob Hyatt, entitled The great global warming collapse, by columnist Margaret Wente.

My own thoughts -- So, some of the air has been let out of the global warming bubble but I'm afraid of air being blown into the consumerist bubble.

Now that we realise that some data on the far left of the centre was politically tainted, are we now going to rush to the opposite extreme, and give corporations (and our greed) unbridled freedom to pollute the environment as they wish?

I'm wondering if there's any room for the opinion that maybe it's not as bad as we previously thought -- sigh of relief -- but realise there is still some substance to the warnings? I'm afraid that, because of so much extreme politics on either end of the spectrum, the sound and level headed warnings may be buried. It's too hard to judge what it is 100% truth, and what is political tainted. Is that good new?

My Very Long Bio

In case anyone wants to know my life story -- here it is...

Short Story: The Film-maker and the Sceptre

I've just completed a short story that has been buzzing around in my head for the last few months. It's got two main characters: a knight who's off to retrieve a sceptre that was stolen by the evil dark lord of Weswold; and the film-maker who's creating the story about him, using futuristic digital animation techniques that have made today's cinema industry obsolete. Here's the blurb:

Mark Snobbel, using twenty-second digital film-making technology, is testing a new medium that renders things in greater than 100% reality 3D. He and the support team don't realise what they're in for...

enjoy...

Review of Claralice Wolf's Prynne's Island

It's an experiment. Can a family, or a group of people set up a society based on love and mutual respect, in which all are treated justly as equals? Can such a society carry on with its original vision for generation after generation?

It’s worth a try, anyway. Claralice Wolf has written her heart out with this one. The story begins with a bazaar character, "the Red Prophet", who comes into the town of Verden. He's actually a clown, something of a pied piper. Once he has everyone's attention, he begins his prophecy, saying things one wishes would be proclaimed in any centre of power today.

Then, he gives Adam Prynne, a mere boy, his mandate.

Adam doesn't think like everyone else. He asks all the wrong questions. He says things people don't want mentioned. He rocks the boat. It's with a sigh of relief that they see him depart for an island far far away, over the mountains. The island was given to him by the king in return for befriending his sickly son. The prince fit in the same groove as Adam, so much so, one wishes he could have survived to become king -- but that would have been too good to be true.

The island is a very special one. Adam, his wife Zoe, and their two sons begin their new life. They are joined by other like thinking individuals, begin the struggle to make their paradise come true.

The human factor is authentic. Things don't happen automatically. Relationships take work from beginning to end. Adam and Zoe learn much, sometimes the hard way, but they make a solid beginning. The vision, the prophecy of the Red Prophet, important events, subsequent prophesies and light from above, are all written in a special Book.

Though the story lasts for seven generations, Claralice has skilfully woven all the lives into a common thread. We see each stage of the island's history through those lives, as the community grows from an extended family into a large town. The Red Prophet's words echo throughout the narrative, as various ones recall them. They are a warning, sometimes unheeded by those who most need to listen, and sometimes an encouragement. The unicorns also speak, but only certain people have the ability to hear them.

As the story comes to a climax, we see who are the true successors of Adam Prynne, and who only think they are. How does the vision survive? Does it end in a tragedy? For some, perhaps, but for others, it's a new beginning. Though it's a fantasy, it's a very true to life picture of the war between divine light and human nature.

Check out some more about the book, and about the author at www.tinyurl.com/prynne.

Review of Pepe at fallenanglereviews.com

Pepe has been reviewed at fallenanglereviews.com. They gave it a good rating!

Speaking of reviews, my aunt's book Prynne's Island, has been released at Writers Exchange E-Publishing. I've bought a copy, downloaded it, and I hope to post a review here soon.