I set out to write a novel, but it fractured into episodes. I fought this disintegration for a long time, trying in vain to hold the pieces together, convincing myself that I had failed to live up to my vision. Then one day I realized it wasn’t me, it was the subject that couldn’t hold to the novel form. The subject was “holidays,” and as I discovered, it’s perfectly suited to the short story. Here’s how it all happened.

There’s this guy. Let’s call him Larry. Middle aged. Outward successful. Rich, even. But Larry’s got some regrets and some dark secrets. One is a girl he once loved. The biggest mistake of his life might have been letting her go. The other is the source of his wealth, the result of a strange coincidence that led him to make an unethical choice that haunts him still. His story is told chronologically from the time he and this girl get together.

There’s this girl. Let’s call her Julie. Middle aged. Outwardly successful until her life falls apart just before the novel opens. She’s got a couple of grown kids who’ve moved away, a husband who’s just run off and no career. Julie also has a dark secret, one that involves Larry, though he doesn’t know anything about it. This secret caused a kind of splintering in her life after she moved away to go to university so she constantly imagines herself living other lives. After the trauma of her husband’s abandonment, she decides to move back to her hometown where she imagines herself beginning again. Her story is told as a series of flashbacks after she returns home and happens upon Larry on, of all days, Valentine’s Day.

And there you have it, the seed of destruction. Valentine’s Day is a particular kind of day, one for which we have certain expectations. We will feel this way. We will do that. We will be happy. Of course, the truth about Valentine’s Day – and about Julie’s life – is that it’s just as likely to make us feel ways we don’t want to feel, ways we believe are not appropriate for that day. We are just as likely to feel like failures because our lives haven’t lived up to our collectively mythologized version of the perfect romantic life that this holiday presents as normal.

Larry’s story starts out as a baby in his mother’s arms as she carries him into a house as stuffed at Christmas as the turkeys in the oven, but with uncles, aunts and cousins. At the centre of this scene are a larger than life great grandmother and great grandfather who are a kind of judgement on what baby Larry will become. Another seed of destruction planted.

The novel fell apart… a short story collection was born.

I realized that holidays are like short stories – they concentrate human experience. At holidays, families gather, expectations rise and are met or not, myths grow out of our experience. Joys and sorrows, successes and failures are intensified. In other words, holidays are microcosms of life. And the short story is the perfect form to explore the subject because they too are concentrated, episodic in nature, pivoting on a single event.

I wrote about a father at his first Christmas after a separation from his wife. I wrote about children giving each other candy hearts and cards at Valentine’s Day and how adult expectations about romantic love can be disastrous in kids. I wrote about the end of summer at Labour Day and how that holiday can ask us to measure the joy we’ve managed to accumulate or not to that point in our lives. I wrote about April Fool’s day and Halloween. I set one story in Jamaica where the main character is on a winter holiday. I wrote about a young man working after graduation and about an older couple learning how to live with each other all over again after retirement. I even wrote a story that takes place during the hockey playoffs when, at least around here, fans seem to take a spring holiday to watch them.

In the end, I wrote 18 holiday stories. Borealis Press liked the idea and my book called – what else – Holidays has just been published. (If you want a copy, visit my website) In all, 13 of those stories made it into the collection. A version of Larry’s story as a baby at Christmas opens the collection. It’s called “What It Would Make of Him as He Went Along.” Julie’s experience didn’t quite succeed as a short story, so it didn’t make the cut. But it could yet anchor a novel.

Photo Credits

Holidays Cover

Author Darcy Rhyno with Relatives

Holidays and Short Stories is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Let’s face it. Science fiction is great.

It covers a vast canvas of human thought, inspires some of our brightest minds to invent new technologies, and has the unique ability to laugh at itself. But who are the artists that shape this genre? Who are the folks that create these fantastic visions of other worlds for us? There are dozens of brilliant sci-fi authors and movie-makers – far too many to list here – but in this final installment, and figuring some of you are looking for Christmas gift ideas, I wanted to introduce you to just a few of Canada’s science fiction best:

Margaret Atwood is a pillar of Canadian literature. She’s among the most-honoured authors of fiction in recent history, and while she might not be the first author who comes to mind when you’re thinking science fiction, and she herself has certainly distanced herself from the “talking squids in outer space” sort of sci-fi, some of her books, led by the brilliant but chilling Handmaid’s Tale, represent some of the finest works in the genre.

Robert J. Sawyer is a highly accomplished sci-fi author who has been heavily involved with supporting and developing Canadian science fiction. In addition to his 20 novels and a wide range of short fiction which have earned him more than 40 awards, he has contributed tremendously to Canada’s literary future through his work as a professor and writer-in-residence. I personally am a huge fan of his Quintaglio Ascension trilogy, which depicts a highly-evolved dinosaur culture.

William Shatner is perhaps THE icon of science fiction, portraying Star Trek’s Captain James T. Kirk for nearly forty years. In addition to his success as an author and his many film and TV roles, the Shat has created an entire industry around making fun of himself and the larger-than-life caricature we’ve all come to love and/or hate. I struggle to recommend one single item of his repertoire as the best, but I think my personal favourite would have to be the movie Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.

James Cameron is one of the most successful movie-makers in history, and his recent film Avatar shattered box-office records and wowed audiences worldwide with his fantastic vision of another world. Although most of his movies would rate high on my recommendation list, since we’re talking sci-fi here, Avatar is the clear must-see. It’s a stunning portrayal of humans on another world, with some clear messages about life on Earth today.

Kenneth Tam is a home-grown Canadian success story and a prolific writer with no less than 20 novels published, including his Equation series and the Defence Command series. He is actively involved with small publishing and the science fiction convention scene. I recommend his series His Majesty’s New World for a fun escape.

This is just a short list of science fiction notables, and just from my home country of Canada. No matter what your taste, no matter what your interests, I bet there is a sci-fi book, movie or TV show out there that you will love. So if you’ve never been interested in science fiction before, I challenge you to give it a try. Ask your friends, browse the bookstore or movie guide, and take a chance. I’ll wager you won’t be disappointed.

Science fiction is great, and it’s waiting there for you to discover. Enjoy the ride.

Read The Previous Parts Of This Series

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale

Photo Credits

Photos Are Public Domain

Science Fiction and Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

So far we’ve talked about some big reasons why science fiction is great, and in every article I’ve made a point of asking readers to look past the absurdities of the science fiction fringe and focus on the strength of the core. But now I want to invite all that ridiculousness to the party – let’s talk about the Klingon university courses, the sleeping outside movie theatres for days, the pointy ears, the little green men, the freakish ability to quote movie lines and the whole range of absurdities that are a huge part of sci-fi. Although purists may shudder and closet-geeks may cringe, all that wacky weirdness is one of the things that makes science fiction great. So let’s get it out there.

Science fiction was always a bit quirky, even in what many consider to be its heyday in the 50’s and 60’s. There were no big conventions back then and no fictional languages being taught in community colleges, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the guys on the high school football team who were picking up the latest copy of Analog or Amazing Stories. Right from the beginning, science fiction found its home away from the popular limelight, and as the size of the sci-fi subculture grew so diminished its likelihood of ever being cool.

In the late 60’s a revolutionary TV show started to change that. Star Trek, undermined by its own network and unceremoniously dumped after three seasons, did something remarkable. It actually grew in popularity even after it was cancelled. People loved it so much they started to meet in groups to talk about it. Authors started writing new stories to keep the adventure alive. And then, in 1972, there was an event called a “Star Trek convention” where cast and crew from the show actually turned up to meet with fans and talk about this fictional universe that was supposed to be dead but was very much alive. Although hardly the first science fiction convention (the very first can be dated back all the way to the 30’s), the sheer passion that fueled the Star Trek movement took the convention concept to a whole new level.

And then in 1977 another work of science fiction changed our culture forever. Star Wars exploded across our collective consciousness and, for a brief, glorious moment, made science fiction not only mainstream, but incredibly cool. I was 4 years old, and Star Wars was the first feature-length movie I ever saw. My parents say that my brother and I didn’t blink for two hours, and I can state with conviction that my entire childhood was dominated by that galaxy far, far away.

From these two cultural colossi comes pretty much all the weirdness that sci-fi is so well-known for. By the 80’s the idea of the sci-fi convention had grabbed hold, giving rise to vast venues where fans of everything from Voyage to the Centre of the Earth to V could meet, discuss, debate and buy collectibles, in total safety from muscle-bound bullies and beautiful women. (Okay, okay, perhaps an exaggeration: some very muscular guys are sci-fi fans too.) This sub-culture, for so long underground and in hiding, had been primed by Star Trek and liberated by Star Wars, and now it was free to go absolutely crazy. Costumes, action figures, comic-book adaptations, posters, china sets… A multi-billion dollar industry in collectibles was spawned, and sci-fi fanatics felt comfortable going loud and proud.

But …

But alongside all this fun and absurdity, despite science fiction moving in popular perception from being a mildly-nerdy but otherwise inoffensive genre to being a lunatic fringe of crazies who wanted to form a new society based on the United Federation of Planets, the core of what made science fiction great never changed. Science fiction continued to produce fascinating, intelligent and challenging works of literature that stand shoulder to shoulder with the best of human creativity. Science fiction is more diverse than any other genre. It is still grounded firmly in the real science that has created our modern world. It produces thought-provoking, allegorical commentary on fundamental issues of the human condition. Some of the finest novels, movies and TV shows of the past thirty years are within the realm of science fiction and no amount of silliness at the fringe has changed that. I challenge you to name me another genre of fiction that can simultaneously be so intelligent and so incredibly silly and pull off both with such conviction and panache.

And best of all, science fiction can even laugh at itself. One of the most-watched shows on TV today is The Big Bang Theory, which follows the hilarious misadventures of four uber-nerdy physicists. A half-dozen or more (often quite obscure) references to sci-fi culture are made in each episode and the main thrust of the show’s humour is making fun of sci-fi geeks. But I don’t know a single sci-fi fan who is offended – indeed most of us are huge fans of the show.

Science fiction is a diverse, established genre with a long pedigree of excellence coupled with a lighter side that allows for fun and even self-mockery. In other words, science fiction is well-travelled, mature, intelligent and has a great sense of humour – sounds to me like the very definition of cool. And that, my fellow X-wing pilots, students of Kolinahr, browncoats, dinosaur hunters and conspiracy theorists, is why science fiction is great.

Read The Next Part Of This Series

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale

Photo Credits

Darth Vader Fan - By Tom Cochrane
Klingon die-hards – From mydisguises.com
Feature image of USS Enterprise B – Wikipedia

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4 is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Science has always inspired science fiction writers, but what’s really neat is when the favour is returned.

The ever-quickening pace of our society has resulted in many things, but one of the most lamentable is the superficial nature of what we mostly read. Supermarket tabloids have always been lambasted for their absurd headlines designed to catch the curious shopper’s eye, but now we can all surf dozens of online headlines at a glance, and they usually range from apocalyptic, to titillating to just plain dumb. It seems this is a growing trend in the way we read today, which increases the importance of the third reason why science fiction is great: it encourages – indeed demands us, to use our brains.

The early years of science fiction set the bar high, as authors with solid scientific understanding set out to tell tales that made science the centerpiece. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells may have created some “science” that is laughable in the light of today’s knowledge, but at the time nobody knew what the surface of the Moon was like, or what lay at the centre of the Earth. These authors not only asked the questions, but gave their readers imaginary answers that forced us to think beyond our everyday experience. Could people really live underwater in private yachts like the Nautilus in Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea? Could an enemy of overwhelming power really be defeated by the common cold like the Martians in Wells’ War of the Worlds?

As scientific discovery progressed, so did the focus of science fiction authors, but they never stopped challenging their readers to think beyond what was already known. As we learned more about the our solar system, for example, stories about space exploration like Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey made popular the idea of orbiting space stations and humankind visiting our neighbouring planets. As the fundamental nature of the Universe itself was uncovered, readers were invited to stretch their minds wide by Poul Anderson’s Tau Zero taking a spaceship and her crew to the very end of time and beyond. Isaac Asimov created the term “robot” to describe an artificial life form created by humans, and in so doing popularized the notion that life was not necessarily confined to biology.

The laws of physics certainly aren’t always adhered to in science fiction, but even when Einstein is flouted he is often done so in a very intelligent way. Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek had no time for such limitations as slower-than-light travel or the integrity of the strong nuclear force, but even so this space opera has managed for decades to explore thoughtful and sometimes controversial questions about our human existence. And Star Trek even sometimes tries to offer explanations as to why the laws of physics have changed, grabbing hold of modern theories when they suggest a hint of how warp drive or transporters might actually exist.

In my novel, Virtues of War, I wanted to stay as close to the current laws of physics as I could, and I found a great ally in the theory of Dr. Lisa Randall from Harvard, who has proposed a fourth spatial dimension beyond the three-dimensional “brane” in which we exist as a solution to why gravity is so different and so much weaker than the other three fundamental forces of nature. I don’t think that the concept of a fourth spatial dimension is going to be discussed on its own merits at coffee shops and soccer games too often, but with luck, having introduced “stealth ships” that can travel in this fourth dimension known as the Bulk and be battled by heroic young space pilots like Jack Mallory, I might have brought this esoteric concept of astro-physics slightly closer to the popular consciousness.

One of the most intriguing results of this thought-provoking genre called science fiction is that so many ideas that were imagined by authors have become reality. A modern nuclear-powered submarine really could travel around the world submerged for 20,000 leagues. Robots have become ubiquitous servants in our industrial society. Space stations orbit the Earth and probes have visited every planet in our solar system (sorry folks, Pluto doesn’t count anymore…). True, we haven’t invented transporters yet, but flip-phones sure look a lot like Captain Kirk’s old communicator. And while we haven’t travelled faster than light yet either, just a couple of weeks ago scientists think they discovered particles travelling faster than Einstein’s 100-year-old intergalactic speed limit. So who knows…?

Science fiction isn’t just about exploring the far reaches of our knowledge – it pushes past that and inspires us not only to think hard, but to think new. Science fiction writers are artists, inspired by scientific reality but driven by their imaginations, and it’s their dreaming that in turn inspires scientists to ask questions, to take risks, and to create wondrous new things. And even for those of us who aren’t scientists, science fiction forces us to keep our brains engaged, to stay curious and to think about things beyond the latest celebrity scandal or playoff game. Science fiction keeps us smart, and that’s why it’s great.

Read The Next Part Of This Series

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale

Photo Credits

Early depiction of H.G. Wells Martian Invaders – Public Domain
Astronomers probe the Milky Way with a laser – Wikimedia Commons

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3 is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Ignore the pointy ears and flying saucers – science fiction is an intelligent, insightful and thought-provoking section of literature.

Sometimes writing is dangerous. Throughout history writers have sometimes had to hide their meaning behind symbolism and metaphor, for to say openly what they really meant could easily mean persecution or death. Thankfully this isn’t the case too often in modern Western culture, but even in our relatively open and tolerant society, writers sometimes choose, for a variety of good reasons, to mask their thoughts in allegory. Science fiction is tailor-made for this sort of hidden meaning, and this is the second reason why it’s great.

There are some well-known examples of sci-fi stories taking on social or political issues, and George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four is perhaps the most famous of all. His portrayal of a ruthlessly oppressive society resonated deeply with the anti-Communist hysteria of the Cold War, but even today the reader is chilled by the manipulation and control imposed upon virtually helpless members of society. A modern reader might even see in it a reflection of our media-dominated, superficial popular culture just as easily as a paranoid Red-hunter would have spotted Uncle Joe in the 50’s.

Science fiction, by its very nature, takes place in a world that is somehow different from ours. It could be set far in the future, or on a distant world, or in downtown Seattle where magic is real. This ability of the genre to exist as close to, or as far away from, our real world as the author wants gives it a unique ability to comment on the human condition. If an author wants to comment on the dangers of genetic engineering, he might have a modern-day lab bring prehistoric creatures to life, like Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park. If instead the author wants to explore human mortality he might do so with robots like Isaac Asimov in his I, Robot collection. Or an author could provide unique insight into the wisdom of the elderly by giving his aged characters powerful new bodies as John Scalzi did in Old Man’s War. In every case, the science fiction author has the freedom, if she so chooses, to explore complex and insightful aspects of our humanity without necessarily getting bogged down in real-world politics or potentially divisive issues.

In my novel, Virtues of War, one of the themes I wanted to explore was this: what is it really like to be a soldier? What happens psychologically to regular men and women when they see combat for the first time? And what are the very real consequences of the split-second decisions they make under extreme stress? As a military veteran it’s an idea dear to my heart, but the last thing I wanted to do was set the story in a modern day conflict like Afghanistan or Iraq. I have no interest in wading into the reasons behind why those real wars started, nor do I have any interest in taking sides. My story isn’t about the reasons for war, nor is it about either American or Arab grievances. My story is about the people: it’s about the soldiers. I certainly drew on my real-life experiences in Syria and Lebanon, but by setting Virtues of War nearly 500 years in the future and on another world, I freed myself from any real-life cultural baggage that could easily have accompanied my desired theme.

Being allegorical, a science fiction story can endure far beyond what the author originally intended. Just as Nineteen Eighty-Four has outlived the political movement that inspired it, perhaps James Cameron’s Avatar will still resonate long after the dangers of reckless environmental exploitation have faded to a happy irrelevance. Not only does this give science fiction a potential for longevity not necessarily enjoyed by other genres, it only adds to the broad appeal it already commands.

So that’s the second reason why science fiction is great: it provides the perfect vehicle for the pure exploration of real and relevant aspects of the human condition without causing offense. Or to put it in a less pompous way: science fiction is not only cool, it makes you think.

Read The Next Part Of This Series

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale

 Photo Credits

Carina Nebula – Public Domain, NASA via Wikipedia
North America From Space – Public Domain, NASA via Wikipedia

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2 is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Mocked and marginalized for too long, science fiction is hot. Or at least it should be, says novelist Ben Coles, author of the military sci-fi novel Virtues of War.

In our popular culture, there are some things that never seem to go out of fashion, and some things that never seem to come into fashion. No matter the excesses or bad behaviour of professional athletes, for example, pro sport is always going to be hot. Same for designer clothing. And so, apparently, reality TV. Science fiction, on the other hand, is marginalized and mocked, and in this series of blogs I’d like to set the record straight. I’m going to talk about science fiction, and why it’s great.

For starters, I humbly ask that you forget the stereotypes and occasional absurdities that are associated with the genre. Like most things, SF has its fringe of, shall we say, over-enthusiasts (kind of like what pro wrestling is to pro sport). What I’d like to do is explore the core of SF – what makes it what it is.

Paradoxically, one of the most important qualities of SF is going to make it a little hard to define: it’s all-inclusive. SF is a very big canvas, with a huge scope of subject matter, philosophy, themes and styles. There really doesn’t seem to be much in common between a gritty, hard science, present-day biology thriller like Greg Bear’s novel Darwin’s Radio, and a glossy, action-packed special effects-loaded space adventure like Paul Verhoeven’s film Starship Troopers. (Or, for that matter, between Starship Troopers the film, and the 1959 Robert Heinlein novel of the same name.) But though they may seem unrelated, they easily fall within the classification of science fiction. Why?

Perhaps the most fundamental quality which any SF creation must have is a sense of wonder – a sense that there is something else out to discover, even if we ultimately can’t understand it. This can be an overt theme, as in Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, or it can be an underlying menace, as in Ridley Scott’s Alien. This quest for knowledge and understanding has been a driving force in humans throughout history: its appeal, captured so well by SF, is nearly universal. And because this quality is so widespread, there is really no limit to what can be included within the SF genre.

The common sub-genres cover a huge range of topics: hard SF, where no laws of physics are broken and the story is often about the science itself; alien contact SF, where either the aliens come to us or we go to them; world disaster SF, where science must save humanity from impending doom; military SF, where some sort of advanced weaponry is involved and the story is usually about the soldiers; time travel; alternate worlds; mutants/clones/artificial life… The list goes on and on.

And finally there is space opera SF, which simply takes real life and puts it amongst the stars. Space opera is one of the most derided forms of SF, but there are brilliant examples of it, such as Joss Whedon’s Firefly, where real world, modern themes are explored in a fantastic setting. In many ways space opera captures the fundamental essence of SF the best, because it adds that essential sense of wonder by creating an imaginary place in which real, human drama can take place.

So that’s the first reason why science fiction is great: it has something for everyone. If you don’t like spaceships, try an alternate history novel like Harry Turtledove’s How Few Remain, where the Confederate States of America won the US Civil War. If you’re interested in exploring the long-term effects of disaster on individuals and society, pick up the TV series Battlestar Galactica (the 21st Century one, not the 1970s cheese-fest). If you want to be scared silly, watch the movie Event Horizon. And if you just want to switch your brain off for an evening, cosy up with Judge Dread.

I don’t know if being inclusive can make science fiction into a hot commodity, but it sure makes it something worthwhile.

Read The Next Part Of This Series

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 2

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 3

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 4

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 5 – The Finale

Photo Credits

Low Orbit -Public Domain, NASA via Wikipedia
Orion Nebula – Public Domain, NASA via Wikipedia

Science Fiction And Why It’s Great – Part 1 is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Joshua S. Hill says that by reading more than one book at once, you can always have a book on hand to match your mood while sharpening your mind.

Reading is very much a part of my life. There is very little that is not influenced by my desire or need to read. My chosen career is to write books. I read books as research to write other books. I read books to review them to earn a little bit of money — or simply to get out of having to buy them in the first place.

I dislike the idea of only reading one thing at a time.  I may need to read one book to review it, another for research on a project I’m writing, and I’ll obviously need something to just relax into.

Waiting to be Read

That is why the small table that sits next to my comfy chair should probably be reinforced. There are a lot of books on it at the moment — seven, as I look over my shoulder and count. And, of course the book table sits in front of a small four-cube bookshelf which contains at least another dozen books.

These two pieces of furniture make up a very small portion of my library, but they will be the focus. Because I’m a bit of an OCD reader, I need to have what I’m reading, or want to read next, near me. Separate. Away from the main library, so to speak, and their brethren and close to me so that I know how fast I have to be reading.

There is something really fun about reading multiple books at once.

For example, I am currently reading Goldfinger by Ian Fleming as well as the Captain America Lives Omnibus. Underneath Cap is I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett, waiting and ready for a reread. Underneath Goldfinger is The Last Run by Greg Rucka and The Defence of the Realm: The Authorized History of MI5 by Christopher Andrew. I’ve also got 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die and a guide to horses that I’m randomly looking at for research. And I think there is J. R. R. Tolkien: Author of the Century by Tom Shippey as well, though that might be on the shelf, it’s hard to see from here.

So at any moment I pretty much have something to read that will complement my mood.

Feel like some action? Go to Goldfinger? Nope, want some superhero action, so out comes Cap America. Want to lose myself in a classic? Pratchett is right there for me. Feel like doing some research on horses and how to properly tack them? Got that covered. Want to check up on Burgess and Maclean, because Ian Fleming mentions them from time to time? Pull out the mammoth bible of a book that is The Defence of the Realm.

I’m well aware that the ability to read more than one book at a time is not necessarily available to everybody. I’ve known enough people who have trouble reading one book a year, let alone three at once. And even those who read over 50 books a year sometimes can’t manage to read two of them at once, because that’s just not how their heads work.

But if you haven’t tried it, then you really should. Why? Because there is something really fun about being able to jump from one topic to another. Knowing that your head is able to do that multitasking, is able to keep track of several threads at once.  It leaves you with a healthy confidence in yourself.

And, I think it also keeps you sharp.  When you make your head work that hard, keeping all those facts in there and in order without jumbling Burgess and Maclean with Bucky Barnes, it will help later on in life when your brain wants to just have a quiet night in front of the fire.

So give it a shot. I love it, and you don’t always have to have fourteen books on the go. But just give it a try, and see how you go. I tell you, there’s no regrets here, only the chance to gain a lot of enjoyment.

Photo Credit

“Books”  brody4 @ Flickr. Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.

Why My Book Table is Reinforced for Strength is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Environmental journalist Mark Hertsgaard’s book Hot describes what life will be like for his daughter’s generation.

By Anna Fahey

“Everyone who finally ‘gets it’ about climate change has an ‘Oh, shit’ moment,” Mark Hertsgaard observes in Hot: Living Through the Next Fifty Years on Earth, “an instant when the pieces fall into place, the full implications of the science at last become clear, and you are left staring in horror at the monstrous situation humanity has created for itself.” I’ve had countless such moments. And for a climate policy nerd like me, Hertsgaard’s basic storyline is familiar—the climate impacts and the hopeful solutions. Arrogantly perhaps, I thought my eyes were as wide open as they could get. But two aspects of this book made it surprisingly cathartic for me.

First, Hertsgaard is writing as a father. As visions of the next 50 years come into focus and predicted events unfold, we’re reminded how old his little girl will be. Rising sea levels, drought, flooding, mass migrations, deadly heat waves, vulnerable food and water supplies—she’s 15, 30, 45. I hadn’t expected a wake-up call, but mapping impacts to my own one-year-old’s lifetime in the book’s margins, I allowed myself to acknowledge for the first time that climate change will define her life.

The second eye-opener is Hertsgaard’s focus on adaptation, a topic long forbidden in environmental circles as a signal of surrender. But coping efforts must now move forward as rapidly as mitigation to “manage the unavoidable and avoid the unmanageable,” as Hertsgaard puts it. Particularly intriguing to me is the idea that tackling adaptation may prove to be a badly needed stepping stone—an engagement strategy—for those dragging their feet on mitigation.

There are lots of reasons mitigation efforts have stalled (the power of fossil fuel lobbies and the multimillion-dollar campaign aimed at discrediting the science of global warming come to mind). But we may also be hard-wired for foot-dragging. The human brain has trouble visualizing a future different from the past; fear shuts us down rather than stirring us to action; and we’re good at filtering information that conflicts with our worldview. Rather than changing our minds, piling on more scientific evidence actually risks further entrenching preconceived notions.

Adaptation charts a middle path. It takes a problem of atmospheric proportions and makes it local—and far more concrete. Focus on the imperative to protect ourselves and our assets makes it easier to come to terms with the problem. Hertsgaard illustrates this with examples of governments—from cities on up—building infrastructure and developing policy designed for the reality of climate change.

Although it sometimes borders on cliché, Hertsgaard’s fatherly lens nonetheless gave me license to grapple with the emotional dimensions of global warming, fears that I’d kept well compartmentalized. Would someone outside sustainability policy circles feel the same way, I wondered? As I read, I ticked off the names of friends who should read this book—friends who know there’s a problem and who’d do anything to protect their kids, but for whom the appropriate response remains a mystery.

Climate change has arrived a century earlier than predicted. We can’t avoid it. Still, anger and despair, while appropriate, aren’t going to get us far. Taking action to avoid the worst, Hertsgaard argues, has now become “part of a parent’s job description, no less vital than tending to your child’s diet, health, or education.” But how? That’s the question that stops even the most informed and motivated among us.

Most of the book is devoted to successful actions being taken around the world to prepare for climate disruption (as well as some of the biggest failures to do so) and some time is spent outlining policy-level solutions and the opportunities they represent (a “Green Apollo Program,” a price on carbon in the form of a cap-and-­dividend policy, energy efficiency incentives, and investments in clean-energy technology). But only the final chapter touches on what an individual might actually start doing tomorrow, say. Get involved. Join the movement. Stand up against industry’s control over energy policy. Push for clean energy sources. Demand accountability from our lawmakers. Easier said than done, but easier to do than many might think. And time’s a-wasting.

One thing to do right now is to go online and check out Hertsgaard’s campaign to “throw the bums out” by naming and shaming elected officials he dubs climate cranks. It’s time to turn up the heat on policy makers at every level of government. Tell them your kids sent you!

About the Author Anna Fahey is communications strategist at Sightline Institute, a sustainability policy think tank in Seattle.
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Fahey, A. (2011, June 28). Fatherhood Confronts Climate Change. Retrieved July 18, 2011, from YES! Magazine Web site: http://www.yesmagazine.org/issues/beyond-prisons/fatherhood-confronts-climate-change. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License

Fatherhood Confronts Climate Change is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Darcy Rhyno reviews Dead Funny, a new book about joke-telling in Nazi Germany.

Nazi Germany’s two most hated figures – Hermann Göring and Adolf Hitler – are standing on top of a building in Berlin. Hitler turns to his Luftwaffe Commander-in-Chief and confesses how he’d like to do something to put a smile on the faces of Berliners. Göring answers his boss, “Then why don’t you jump?”

To poke fun at Adolf Hitler and his followers was to risk death in Nazi Germany.

That’s a sample of World War II humour in life under the Nazi regime documented in Rudolph Herzog’s book Dead funny: Humor in Hitler’s Germany. The joke is a little weak, perhaps, but surprising by its very existence. And dangerous. Particularly for a war widow identified as Marianne K. She’s the war widow who told that joke to a co-worker in the armaments factory where they both worked. The Nazi’s People’s Court had her executed by guillotine for so-called “defeatist” utterances.

In 1941, 102 people were put to death for the same crime. By the following year, more than ten times that number, 1192 were executed, and until the war ended, the numbers rose year after year.

It’s a fair assumption that no one living in Nazi Germany found anything funny about the regime. But throughout history, rumours of humour’s demise are always greatly exaggerated. Inside the Third Reich, it was said that Hitler’s limp salute made him look like a waiter with a tray and that Göring bathed with his medals. Through his analysis of jokes, cartoons, variety shows, songs, films, plays and cabaret, as well as the Nazi regime’s response to them, Rudolph Herzog (son of the great German filmmaker, Werner Herzog – Rudolph says the book came out of a film project) demonstrates how humour evolved from the 1930s through the war years, and even inside the concentration camps. Concerned about the power of even the weakest of public humour, the Nazi Party itself sponsored state-sanctioned comedy.

Pre-war humour often took jabs at the Nazi party for little more than nepotism. As things deteriorated, the humour grew more acerbic, though perhaps no more funny. As an example, the courts sent a priest to the guillotine in 1944 for the suggestion that a picture of Jesus should be hung on the wall between pictures of Hitler and Göring because the son of God died “nailed up between two criminals.”

The humour documented by Herzog is often instructive. By demonstrating that jokes about the concentration camps were common both inside and out, it’s clear that German citizens knew what was going on. What troubles Herzog is that they didn’t do anything to stop what would become one of the world’s most horrific attempts at genocide in the Holocaust.

Inside the camps, the situation could be cruelly ironic for the prisoners. In what the Nazi’s referred to as a model camp, Jewish entertainers were forced to perform cabaret and make films, one of them known by the unofficial, satiric title The Führer Gives the Jews a City.

Sadly, Herzog’s analysis demonstrates the ultimate ineffectiveness of a comic subculture. As Herzog himself admitted in a CBC Radio interview, “Political humour is not quite as subversive as we’d hope it would be.” Still, whether or not it functions as a political tool, humour of the kind documented here is important as an outlet of public expression even under the most ruthless of regimes.

Dead Funny: Humor in Hitler’s Germany is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

At age 86, Minnie Rose Lovgreen became the author of the charming book, Recipe for Raising Chickens. It’s a timely book as urban dwellers across North America argue over the right to keep chickens in cities.

Vancouver, Halifax, San Antonio, Flagstaff, New Haven, Boca Raton, Chicago, Louisville, Niagara Falls, Calgary – all of these cities and dozens of others across North America have been through the now familiar city chicken debate. Many such debates have turned into divisive, lengthy battles over the pros and cons of keeping chickens in urban back yards.

Opponents worry about smell, noise and rodents. Supporters cite renewed interest in raising food closer to home, knowing what goes into it and knowing that it was produced in a sustainable, humane way. As The Globe and Mail reports, even in cities that don’t officially permit chickens, people are secretly keeping the egg layers anyway.

Change seems to be on the side of the hens and their keepers. And as city after city flocks to the side of layers, their keepers are looking for advice. As one Vancouver blogger put it, “it is time to start building our own local knowledge on keeping urban hens.”

Enter Minnie Rose Lovgreen… or rather, re-enter. You see, Minnie died over 30 years ago, but her book Recipe for Raising Chickens lives on in a third edition.

Nancy Rekow knew that neighbour Minnie always wanted to write a book about raising chickens, and as Minnie lay sick in a Seattle hospital at age 86, Nancy recorded her advice on raising chickens. Charmingly illustrated by another neighbor, Elizabeth Hutchison Zwick and hand-lettered by Nancy Rekow, Recipe for Raising Chickens is a lovingly offered production and a tribute to an unassuming friend who wanted nothing more than to see others benefit from her sixty years of experience keeping chickens.

You always feel like you’re in good hands with Minnie as she offers practical advice on everything from the elements of the perfect chicken coop to raising young chicks in your house, all in a conversational tone. In Chapter V called “Eggs”, Minnie offers, “The main thing is to keep them happy. Have dry straw or littler in the place where they sleep so that when they get up in the morning they can scratch around in that dry stuff.”

She goes on to offer feeding schedule tips: “I put feed and water in for the chickens at night, so when they get up in the morning they can start eating and drinking right away, at daybreak. If you feed them at night, they lay early in the morning… If you get eggs early in the morning, then usually they lay well all week.”

In Chapter IV, called “Room and Board for Chickens”, Minnie offers, “Soon as they’re let out in the morning, first thing they do is hunt out to get green things. Which shows you that they know what’s good for them.”

In Recipe for Raising Chickens, Minnie explains how to test a chicken to see if it’s laying eggs, what to expect when it’s time for the chickens to molt, and what to do when a hen starts getting “broody” or ready to hatch eggs. Her technique for keeping freshly hatched chicks in the house is both charming and practical. “I put chicks in a box and pin part of a wool sweater or sock over the box with clothespins, letting it touch their backs, but so they can still get air. The sweater feels like the warm mother sitting on them.” The section on raising chicks is quite extensive and full of common sense instruction.

When housing chickens, it’s important to take into consideration their preferences and habits. For example, Minnie says, “They like their perches up high next to the ceiling. They like the secure feeling of a roof right close over their backs.” And on chicken yards, she offers, “I like to have a place under the chicken house with soft soil for dust baths. Chickens like to take a dust bath every day. Get the dirt onto their feathers and then shake it all out. Then they feel pretty good. They love to lie and bask in the sun like people would.”

Minnie’s is the kind of reference book that both suits it’s intended purpose – to guide those who are keeping chickens for egg production, no matter where they live – and as just a fun book to have around. While it doesn’t solve every urban flock keeper’s problem, it goes a long way toward making a happy, safe, clean and productive home for urban birds.

For those practical problems that remain unsolved – what to do with the birds after they stop laying eggs, where to keep the chicken feed – there are other solutions. For example, an enclosure called the Omlet was specifically designed to keep city chickens happy and safe so city folks can also enjoy fresh eggs delivered daily in their own back yards.

To order Minnie Rose Lovgreen’s Recipe for Raising Chickens, contact your local bookstore or visit www.nwtrilliumpress.com. The list price is a more than reasonable at $13.

References

TheCity Chicken-Chicken Laws
Globe and Mail : City Residents Illegally Keeping Chickens
Omlet US

Photo Credits

“Broody and Grey Hen” nutmeg66 @ flickr.com. Creative Commons. All Rights Reserved.

All other photos © Darcy Rhyno. All Rights Reserved.

Recipe for Raising Chickens is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN