Category Archives: My Writing
The Perfect Place to Write!
Check out my blog post on Just the Write Charisma about the most inspiring place to write:
http://justthewritecharisma.blogspot.com/2014/04/a-simple-writing-life.html
Don’t forget to check out the adventures of Jonathan Steel at www.steelchronicles.com or 11thdemon.com for book orders.
Final Thoughts on Kiwis
Our tour guide at Hobbiton, Sean, offers me some apple cider. Incredibly friendly the Kiwis are!
It has been a week since we returned from New Zealand. Getting back into our normal time zone has been challenging. I find myself wide awake until 3 in the morning! When you have to get up at 6 for work, that isn’t a good thing! But, gradually, I’ve been able to find that other part of me that seems to be hovering in the corner ala out of body experience style and like Peter Pan and his shadow, I’m finally getting the two of us back together. I discovered I do have at least one broken rib from my fall and my elbow is so painful I am sure there is a tear of my triceps tendon which is not a good thing!
Now that is a cup of coffee! Witness the awesomeness of a flat white!
I am slowly and painfully withdrawing from my daily dose of flat whites, that most remarkable coffee confection that is not found in the states. I miss my daily cup of flat white and my chicken and cheese pie. Thursday at physical therapy, I decided to get on the treadmill since my broken rib had finally become tolerable. Normally, I can only walk about 3 MPH because of my back. But, I found myself loping along at 4 MPH. All that walking in New Zealand uphill, both ways seemed to have paid off. I also lost 10 pounds while there. As I mentioned in my earlier posts, I saw nary an obese native New Zelander during my visit.
It has also taken me a week to sift through my over 2500 photographs and I have yet to sort through all the videos. The photos help keep all of the stops and sites straight in my head. When I pause and reflect on our trip, we covered the entire country of New Zealand and saw probably 80% of the sites in less than three weeks! It’s no wonder I keep getting Queenstown and Wellington confused! That’s like confusing San Diego and Panama City!
Our new friends AND family, Alex and Grant!
I am also trying to wrap my brain around the best way to tell my friends and family what it was like in New Zealand. Their questions are legion. And, to try and summarize our experience in a short period of time is impossible. Yesterday, I spent a few hours with my friend Raymond who is building the website for www.steelchronicles.com and our upcoming depression rewrite www.conqueringdepression.com. He is the pastor of a mission church and I shared with him my experience with my Christian brothers and sisters in Christ in New Zealand. I told him it was uncanny how easily we dwelt in each other’s company as if we had known each other for years! Even though our language was different (WE have an accent, can you believe it?) in some of its conventions, we could easily communicate not only on a superficial level but also on a spiritual level.
Kiwis LOVE to laugh! Kiwis LOVE life!
In my posts I have commented on what New Zealand still has that we as a nation have lost. I am still proud to be an American. But, I am not always proud of how our country has changed in the past century. The growing hostility toward Christianity, and for that matter, any public display of religious conviction is alarming. You do not see this in New Zealand. I see in our culture an intolerance to spiritual matters and a growing movement that says only science can give us real, true answers to our problems. The new series Cosmos even took a swing at Christianity in its opening show once again pouring gasoline (that is petrol for my Kiwi friends) on the battle between faith and science.
I think it is time to pour water on this fiery debate. As a Christian, I can no longer look at my atheistic or agnostic scientific colleagues and truly say they are without moral conviction or a humane way of life. Also, it is time for my colleagues to back off and allow those of us who have religious convictions to keep them and to RESPECT our choices! The key here is respect.
1 Peter 3:16 says that Christians should “always be prepared to give a reason for the hope that is within us but to do so with gentleness and respect”. The vast majority of Christians have no intellectual or academic foundation for why the Christian worldview reflects ultimate truth. We have only a thimble full of knowledge and it is time for us to truly become “prepared” to give a reason for what we believe. But, more importantly, it is time for us to act with gentleness and respect towards those we disagree with. This is called tolerance and it was a concept invented by the early church to reflect this very verse in scripture.
One thing I found in abundance in New Zealand was gentleness and respect. As troubled as America is and as contentious as our reputation can be throughout the world, I NEVER felt criticized or looked down upon by my Kiwi friends. They were always gentle and respectful. A lesson we can learn on both sides of the issue of faith versus science. So, let us put our gauntlets away and let us instead shake hands over this issue and agree to disagree with cordial respect. If you are a Christian, I plead with you to take 1 Peter 3:16 literally. Delve into the foundation of truth that underlies our faith. Learn some “apologetics” that is defense of the Christian faith. There are thousands of websites. Just look under my “Apologetics” tab to find some good resources.
But, most importantly, take the lesson I have learned from my Kiwi friends, and yes, now family to heart. Treat everyone with gentleness and respect.
A very friendly guide in Shantytown!
Don’t forget to check out my book sales for all three Jonathan Steel books at www.steelchronicles.com and get the current edition of “Conquering Depression” at www.conqueringdepression.com before it goes out of print. I’ll share with you in the coming months of a new book about depression I and Mark Sutton have written that will be available in the fall.
Next week, it’s back on the airplane to Orlando. Mark Sutton and I will be tweaking our website for our new book release in the fall. So, come back in the near future to hear about “Hope Again: A 30 Day Plan for Conquering Depression”!
Final Thoughts
Kia ora (Hello)
A famous walk at midnight took place in Oxford, England. J. R. R. Tolkien, author of the Lord of the Rings trilogy was trying to convince his atheist friend that God exists. This may surprise some of you. Recently, someone commented they had not watched the “Lord of the Ring” or “Hobbit” movies because they were “demonic”. Tolkien, however, was a devout Christian and he wrote his stories to create a mythology that honored the ideals of the Christian worldview. But, Tolkien was careful to make certain his fictional creations, stories and ideas did not overtly speak to the existence of God but worked through imagery and imagination. But, his devotion to Christ and the basic tenets of Christianity resonated throughout the Lord of the Rings in spite of his refusal to make such ideas blatant. Tolkien decided to use this idea of imagination as a key to converting his friend and colleague, C. S. Lewis, to Christianity.That night as they walked through the garden, Lewis rebuffed all of Tolkien’s arguments for God’s existence. Finally, Tolkien told Lewis what he lacked was imagination, the capacity to see beyond the natural into a realm that is truly supernatural — that is above and beyond the five senses. Lewis was intrigued by this comment and soon became not only a devout Christian, but the leading defender of the truth of the Christian faith in the mid twentieth century.
The rest is history and in contrast to Tolkien’s more subtle inclusion of Christian ideals in his works, Lewis was more obvious as can be seen in the Christ figure of Aslan in his Narnia books.
I recall sitting in the theater in 2001 and being absolutely stunned and blown away by the movie, The Fellowship of the Ring. The story resonated with themes of self sacrifice, the existence of evil, the importance of companionship, unconditional love, and the battle for good. But, more than that, the movie was stunning in its visuals and its settings. I have touched on New Zealand’s beauty in previous posts as the setting for all of Peter Jackson’s Tolkien movies. The natural beauty is there to behold — raw and undeniable. But, there is also here among its people a love for goodness and hard work and the land and, yes, God.
In the Fellowship of the Ring, Bilbo Baggins has this to say about Hobbits: “Hobbits must seem of little importance. In fact, it has been remarked by some that Hobbits’ only real passion is for food. And, this is a rather unfair observation. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth.” As seen in the book and the movies, Hobbits are the most amazing and surprising folk filled with unexpected bravery and self sacrifice and committed to working very hard and finishing well. Tolkien never visited New Zealand, but it is the most powerful compliment in the world that this nation was chosen to be the setting for these remarkable movies. For, the people I have come to know and love here share all of these admirable traits: a love of food; a desire for true peace and contentment; a durable work ethic and nary a complaint when confronted with a long, arduous walk or a difficult journey. The land here sings with joy for being tilled and milled and cared for. Every twist and turn along the highway reveals farms and cows and sheep and carefully tended land. In the garden, God gave Adam a simple job: “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” Here in this beautiful land, the men and women of New Zealand are doing just that — caring for God’s creation. And, a love for God overflows from my new friends and family here.
I will be leaving this fair land in a day and I will carry with me fond memories of incredible sights but also of warm hearts and new friendships. I find it so odd that I can feel an instant bond with a fellow believe in Christ. This phenomenon defies imagination. In fact most of New Zealand’s beauty defies imagination.
Ah, there is that word again. Imagination. Here are two definitions of the word imagination:
“the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses AND the ability of the mind to be creative or resourceful.”
New ideas formed from images or concepts NOT PRESENT TO THE SENSES (that is superseding the senses or, frankly, supernatural). I can assure you that my senses have been overwhelmed by breathtaking sights that defy human imagination. I cannot, could not, and would not ever be able to imagine what I have seen and heard. The towering mountains. The endless blue depths of the sounds and fjords. The haunting song of the bellbird. And so much more I still have yet to process. But, there is one thing I know. If imagination is truly “the ability of the mind to be creative and resourceful” and the human mind is woefully inadequate to conceive of the beauty I have seen then there must be a Mind behind it all; an Intellect of staggering proportion; a Designer with the heart of an artist who painted these hills in greens and browns and blues and dashes of red and yellow; a Mind whose creativity is echoed weakly in our own creative impulses. If C. S. Lewis had walked the hills and gardens of New Zealand with Tolkien, perhaps he would have been more easily persuaded. I cannot imagine a world like this where there is no God!
What have I learned here? We are God’s greatest creation and there is no beauty of the land to match the beauty of a human heart! The friends we have made here will resonate on into eternity and I hope to one day return to this wondrous land. So, just to pique your imagination, a simple slideshow of some of my favorite photos.
Hei konei ra (expressing good wishes on parting).
New Zealand Days 4 and 5
It is Saturday morning here in New Zealand, Friday America time and I just witnessed one of the most moving and beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. We are now in Napier at Alex and Grant’s house. I’ve gotten behind on my blogging so I wanted to catch up on the photographs.
Let’s see, on Tuesday we drove to Waitomo cave area and went through the cave with the glowworm grotto. The glow worm is a fascinating insect. The female lays an egg in the caves then dies since the adult male and female insects have no mouths! The egg hatches and the larva emerges as the glow worm. The worm has a bioluminescent tip that glows in the dark. The worm spins a long single thread. The thread is sticky and the light attracts moths and insects in the cave. When the insects fly toward the glowing light (and this also includes the aforementioned adult insects) they get stuck on the thread. The glow worm then pulls the thread up and feasts on the insects. This fat and happy life lasts for 9 months. But, eventually, every larva turns into an adult. The male adult is waiting patiently for the females to emerge from their cocoon and impregnates them immediately before they die from starvation. What a life!!!
I could not take an photos within the glow worm grotto. A river passes through the cave and at the bottom of the cave we loaded onto a boat in almost total darkness. Our hostess, Dorene then pulled us quietly through the grotto. In the hushed silence where only the occasionally tinkling of water drops from the stalactites broke the dark solace, we moved through the grotto like the Phantom of the Opera gliding his boat across the waters of Paris underground. Above us were thousands of tiny blue green glowing dots. To me it was a wondrous site. To the glowworm, it was just life. Just a passing through this world from egg to larva to pupae to adult. All on a 10 month cycle. The difference between the glowworm and me, of course, lay in my ability to appreciate the beauty of what I was seeing. More on that later.
Here are some pictures from our cave trip.
Witomo Glowworm Cave
The Cave Names I can’t quite yet pronounce.
Maori
In the Caves
More caves
On Thursday and Friday, we traveled to Rotorua where the lake filled a huge extinct volcano crater. But, the volcanic activity was far from dormant. Below are numerous photos of the thermal “playground” around Rotorua. The air was cool and crisp but tainted with the odor of sulphur. Our room was situated overlooking the beautiful lake. By now, I was getting Sherry’s cold and I spent the first night in Rotorua shaking with a high fever. Alex, a more than capable nurse, watched over me as we sat on the patio overlooking the lake beneath a billion glowing stars. I was shocked to recognize Orion’s belt and Scorpio and there, above me was the Southern Cross ruling the southern hemisphere sky as our Big Dipper and Polaris, the north star, ruled the northern sky. Alex talked me through my fear of having some kind seizure due to my high fever. Here I was sick in a foreign country my mind filled with fears that most people would never think about (as a doctor, I know too much!) and yet, I was at ease with Alex just a few meters away. I was very thankful she was there to watch over me. I made it through that first night. Thursday and Friday were busy days visiting Rotorua and its many hot springs, geysers, and steam vents. Here are some photos from that visit.
The Thermal Playground
A Caldera
The Artist’s Palette
The colors are from different chemicals
Sulphur deposits
The Devil’s Bathtub
Bubbling hot mud!
Huka Falls
The Jet Boat at Huka Falls
Sherry at Huka Falls
Lake Taupo
Waipunga Falls
I will pause now for a day or two. We are resting up here at home in Napier before tackling the South Island. Tomorrow (Sunday) we will go to church with Alex, Grant, and their boys and I’ll have more to say then. For now, I am resting and trying to heal.
New Zealand Day 2 – Sky Tower and Devonport
DAY 2 — Auckland Sky Tower and Devonport
After finally sleeping through a New Zealand night, we woke up at 645 AM New Zealand Time on Monday morning (Sunday in the States as they say). It was 1145 AM Shreveport time. But, I slept for eight straight hours without waking up and I felt like it was truly early morning and not nearly noon! I was almost acclimated to being down under! I have to stop for a moment to digress. We are down under. I don’t recognize the stars. The water swirls the wrong way in the toilet. And, it gets warmer the further north you go, not south! Also, sitting in the front seat of the minivan whilst Grant or Alex bustle about this metropolis known as Auckland can be a bit disorienting. They drive on the other side of the street here and every time we turn, I panic because I think we are heading into traffic going the wrong way! Also, you have to train yourself to look to the right for oncoming traffic before crossing the street.
We loaded up the luggage and left one hotel and drove downtown toward Auckland on the “motorway” to our final hotel our last day in this city. Our room overlooked the harbor but we set out toward downtwon for Victoria Market. Little did I realize that what was to be a simple walk to the bank to exchange US dollars for NZ dollars and then on to the marketplace would be such a challenge. Why? It was uphill. Both ways!
Seriously, we walked about a mile up a steep incline through downtown Auckland surrounded by tall buildings and bustling citizens. We paused at the foot of the Sky Tower and were relieved to see that the next mile to the marketplace was downhill. But, when we arrived at what was once a busy, bustling marketplace filled with small shops, we discovered that the economic downturn (global it seems) had forced most of the shops to close. It was still a nice experience shopping but now we had to walk back uphill to the Sky Tower.
By the time we reached the base of the Sky Tower, both Sherry and I were exhausted. In spite of getting plenty of sleep, it seemed our bodies were lagging behind our relatively rested minds. Alex refused to take the elevator to the top of the tower (at least she admitted a fear of heights) but Sherry, Grant, and I bravely soldiered on. I pause for a moment to comment on what I can only assume is a prelude to insanity. We passed a gift shop on the way down an escalator to the ticket counter. Hanging from the ceiling of the gift shop was a mannequin dressed in blue overalls, arms outstretched, hanging from a cord. Grant pointed it out to me and told me there was a free fall from the tower on a vertical sort of zip line if I was interested. I have never jumped out of a perfectly good airplane or off of a perfectly good building! I did not plan on changing that record!
So, here is a picture of the Sky Tower from street level. Next is the platform at the base. A person is clipped into this vertical wire assembly and quickly pulled up to the top of the tower. Then, the person is released and plummets to the ground. All very controlled, of course. The third picture shows the harness on its way back up without a person clipped in. I watched one young man land on the platform and the way in which he was walking, hunched over and stiff legged led me to believe he should have been wearing Depends. It would seem he had, shall we say, “soiled himself” as Alex commented. Not a reliable cure for constipation, I would conclude!
The Sky Tower from street level.
Here are some pictures from the top of the Sky Tower of Auckland and the harbor area. The many hills you see not covered by buildings including the largest across the harbor are relatively young volcanoes that shaped Auckland. Also, there were glass panels in the floor allowing one to look downward at the ground and to contemplate the overwhelming mastery that gravity has over our lives. Sherry was brave enough to monkey around on the panels. I refused to even look down them! Grant was as reluctant as I was but did stand on one of the panels. Sherry promptly grabbed him and he latched onto a nearby handrail as if he were about to plunge through the glass lending credibility to my strong belief that Sherry would have done the same thing to me if I had agreed to stand on a panel. I can assure you someone would have been performing CPR on me! We almost had to do so to Grant. But, the view was breathtaking as the photos reveal and well worth my trepidation. Sherry did comment once during our time at the top of the tower that I seemed a “little pale”. You think!
Let me pause for a moment and acquaint you with some Kiwi phrases. You go to the “loo”, not the bathroom. You throw trash in the “rubbish” can. Vanilla ice cream with caramel and toffee is called “hokey pokey” ice cream. While still thinking of the Sky Tower, a funeral parlor here is known as a funeral “cottage”. An expresso with a little less milk than a latte is known as a “flat white”. I had two of these today and I am now convinced Starbucks should add this to their menu. New Zealand loves coffee shops. There must be a thousand little niche coffee shops all over the city each with their own unique brand of coffee. The young man on the Sky Tower Free Fall must have soiled his “nickers”. Don’t call your belted travel pack a “fanny” pack. Fanny refers to something to do with anatomy that I cannot speak of in mixed company. You don’t tip in New Zealand. Rather, you say “Thank you very much for your service.” and that is sufficient. Also, the check isn’t brought to your table. You must go to the “registration desk” and pay for the check. Grant had what we would call a chicken fried steak only with pork known as a “pork schnitzel” with “chips” meaning french fries. Carbonated water is “moving” water and non carbonated is “still” water. There is no such thing as ice tea in New Zealand we discovered and is sorely missed by this Southern couple. Enough for now. I’m sure I will share more of these words in the future.
We set off downhill after the Sky Tower, thank you Jesus and I mean that reverently, back toward the harbor. We bought a ticket for the ferry to take us across the harbor to the far peninsula to an exclusive area known as Devonport. Built during the Victorian era, the village has retained its architecture and is now filled with small, exclusive shops and restaurants and, yes, dozens of coffee shops. To finish off today’s post, here are some photos from Devonport including one area of a small beach overlooking Auckland downtown and, of course, the Sky Tower.
By 530 PM Kiwi time (add 5 for hours plus one day) Sherry was exhausted and we headed back to have “tea” meaning supper at an Irish Pub, O’Hagan’s. This is where Grant had his pork schnitzel and Alex had steak and eggs — a huge slab of steak topped off with two poached eggs and chips (remember, these are french fries. Remember this so I won’t have to keep reminding you!) I had a hamburger with cheese and bacon. But, their bacon is more like our thick cut bacon with lots more meat than fat only not at all fried crispy. But, it was quite tasty as you can imagine. By this point I was pushing six miles of walking and had only eaten a scone with my flat white since breakfast so I indulged. We had nachos with rich New Zealand beef chili, cheddar cheese, salsa, sour cream, and guacamole on top of corn “crisps” (this would be what we recognize as chips) in a skillet. It was MOST yummy! Sherry had chicken quesadillas. Let me just say that I have eaten in Canada, Mexico, France, and England. The food was most bland in the United Kingdom followed closely by Canada. Mexico’s food for me has had the same effect on my body as the Sky Tower Freefall had on the aforementioned young man! France’s food was very buttery and very winey?!?, if that is a word. Sherry packed a can of Tony’s spice in case New Zealand food was similar to the UK. So far, we have had some of the most delicious food! Far too much of it, in fact.
Finally, here are the two girls sitting on the bench waiting for our ferry to take us back to Auckland and the end of a very exciting, but tiring day. Tomorrow, it is off to the cave of the glowworms! Good on you, Mate!
Come Along, Pond!
I don’t have a time machine. I don’t fly around in the TARDIS. For those of you who are not Whovians, the TARDIS stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space and is the space ship of the Doctor. It is an innocuous blue London Police box from the 1950’s — appearing that way because of a “chameleon” circuit that disguises the ship as a contemporary structure of the place and time it is visiting. Only, the circuit got stuck in the early 1960’s.
This is NOT my TARDIS!
The Doctor has been flying around the cosmos since 1963 and has been portrayed by eleven different actors — the twelfth debuting this coming fall as the “12th” Doctor. My daughter began watching “Doctor Who” about five years ago after the series was “rebooted” in 2005. She got me interested. I watched Doctor Who way back in the 1970’s when Tom Baker was the Doctor (and he is still the most popular and well known of the ‘classic’ Doctors). Soon, my entire family, with the notable exception of my wife who relies on the “Cliff Notes” version of the show, are dedicated Whovians. If you’ve followed my blog, you’ve seen and read posts in the past on this fascination.
Well, I finally bit the big one and signed up for a real, live comic-con, SciFi Expo in Dallas, Texas the weekend of February 8th. My wife politely dropped me and my daughter, Casey off at the Irving Convention Center for the day. It was extremely cold and drizzling rain when Casey and I stepped into the parking garage and joined thousands of science fiction and fantasy fans. Casey was “cos playing” the eleventh doctor wearing eleven’s purple coat and topped off her wig with a red fez. I went for the War Doctor from the recent 50th anniversary special. That “Doctor” played by John Hurt was closer in age and appearance to this old f**t so I figured I could pull him off better than any of the young actors playing recent Doctors with “big hair”.
I had no idea what to expect. Casey has been to a dozen or so Anime Conventions but this thing put them all to shame. It was like comparing the Death Star to the Millennium Falcon. As we rounded the corner of the Convention Hall and headed into the windy, freezing parking garage we were assaulted with the sound of a thousand souls crying out in anguish. Total, complete, chaotic bedlam followed and did not relent for the next six hours. I managed to find a convention security person in a bright orange shirt and asked him where to go to pick up our pre-ordered arm bands. His wild eyed, confused countenance did not instill great confidence. He whirled in confusion and finally pointed to a line of people snaking their way across the entire first level of the parking garage. “Get in that line.” We did. And we waited in the freezing cold for almost an hour.
Don’t Blink!
Just waited and stood and walked a few feet at a time. The only consolation was the gasps of surprise and wonder as fellow conventioneers recognized Casey’s purple coat (turns out she was one of only two Doctor cos-players wearing the new purple coat) and recognized me as the War Doctor. I was the ONLY War Doctor that day. And, as I learned throughout the day, many of the attendees dressed as their favorite science fiction character. But, the vast majority of those who dressed up paid homage to Doctor Who. In all, we saw two first Doctors, several female versions of the fourth Doctor, one Fifth Doctor, one Seventh Doctor, a plethora of the Tenth Doctor and the Eleventh Doctor, but only one War Doctor. I must have been asked to pose for a hundred pictures with various characters from Doctor Who from the other Doctors to River Song to Martha Jones to K9 to girls dressed as Daleks and one young girl dressed as the TARDIS.
This was the only activity we engaged in except for waiting in lines. We finally made it into the building to receive our arm bands only to exit once more to stand in the huge line on the second level of the garage — this line to enter the convention hall proper!
Four Doctors!
Once inside, we were ushered into the massive merchandising portion of the convention where every conceivable product existed proudly proclaiming any one of hundreds of science fiction and fantasy story lines. It was here, we faced our second wave of picture takers. I had come for one reason only — to meet Karen Gillan, the actress who portrayed Amy Pond throughout Matt Smith’s tenure as the Eleventh Doctor. She was one of a dozen guests including Sylvester McCoy, who portrayed the Seventh Doctor and the wizard Radagast in the recent Hobbit movie. Also, Karl Urban, who portrayed one of my favorite characters, Dr. “Bones” McCoy in the Star Trek movies was there as well as Stephen Amell, the actor portraying Green Arrow on the current CW show, Arrow. I would have been happy to meet any of these people as well as Karen. However, as we soon learned, we were to have only one experience at our disposal. For, you had to wait in line to buy/pick up a ticket for a photo op with one of these celebrities. And, if you got in line for a ticket, forget making it to the Q&A sessions featuring the celebrities or getting in line to buy/pick up a ticket for an autograph from one of them. You had to choose and choose wisely.
Casey and Vic
Casey also wanted to get her picture made with Vic Mignogna, a voice actor and star of “Star Trek Continues” a web based continuation of the original Star Trek. And so, after passing through the merchandise on our own for about 20 minutes we headed up the escalator to the third floor to get in line to purchase a ticket for the photo ops. Once again, we found ourselves surrounded by total complete chaos and thousands of souls wandering about this confusing universe of imagination. I sighted an Orange Shirt and he tentatively pointed at one of a half dozen lines snaking around the interior halls of the third floor. “That line. I think.” We followed the line around the maze of rooms and hallways to the end and got in line. I was immediately behind a man dressed as the First Doctor. We spent two hours with him and our fellow line waiters. During the process, we were the subject of dozens of photo ops as hapless conventioneers wandered by looking for their particular line to wait in. I glanced at my watch a dozen times. We missed the Karl Urban Q&A. And, we were about to miss the Vic Mignogna photo op. When suddenly, while waiting in a nondescript line quadrupled on itself in a room, an Orange Shirt asked if any of us wanted Vic tickets. He assured us that the line for Karen Gillan was another two hours of waiting (which overlapped with the actually op session itself). So, we resigned ourselves to getting only a picture with Vic and I raised my hand. Casey and I were ushered to the very front of this eternal line and within five minutes we had purchased her photo op. The cashier asked if I wanted another photo op. Karen Gillan? I asked. Sure! If the others waiting in line had heard us, we would have been lynched!
Casey was rushed off to the Vic photo op and I held in my hand the golden ticket (actually a slightly faded cash register printout with a bar code and a pixelly picture of Karen Gillan). Casey was done in five minutes and she was the last person to get her picture with Vic.
Now, here is where it was worth it all for Casey. Vic asked to hold her fez and her picture shows this incredible man hugging my daughter for the camera. He actually spoke to her for a minute and gave her his email! More on that later.
We found a bench and sat down to eat some snacks I was smart enough to bring in my massive leather coat. We rested for about ten minutes and then is was time to get in line to have our picture made with Karen Gillan. We made our way back into the hallways and found the end of the line of those waiting for the photo op. Here is where it was very interesting. The photo ops had sold out shortly after Casey and I got our ticket and it made no difference if you had purchased your tickets online ahead of time or at the convention. We were all in the same line! It didn’t seem that the VIP tickets made that much of a difference!
An hour later, we made it into the photo op room. Soon, we were standing outside the purple curtains and just inside was the actress Karen Gillan, Amy Pond. “You’re on!” the Orange Shirt said and we rushed into the booth. Karen was standing before us and my first impression was how tall she was. In the show, she seemed short or of average height next to the very tall Matt Smith. I was surprised to have to look UP at her. Flash, our photo had been taken and we were ushered out of the booth. We spent a total of 3 seconds with Karen Gillan. I barely recall being next to her!
Now, we had officially met two of the Doctor’s companions. On a train from Cardiff, Wales back to London in 2009, we met Elizabeth Sladen who played the most celebrated and best known companion of the Doctor, Sarah Jane Smith. Sadly, she passed away two years later from a sudden illness but my daughter had the opportunity to do more than just have a photo op. We spoke with Elizabeth Sladen for almost ten minutes. She was so gracious and kind. I wrote about that post in the past.
At this point, we were done. I was done. No more Q&A sessions were left. No more autograph tickets were left. We cruised through the merchandise one last time and bought a few small things and then went outside to wait for my wife to return in the TARDIS, I mean, the car to take us on to Shreveport. While sitting in the warm sunshine on the steps of the convention center, we were serenaded by a very thin, slightly inebriated knock off of Elsa from “Frozen”. She was slurring “Let it glow, Let it glow . . .”
My take away from this?
Celebrity pays well if you want to pose for pictures and sign autographs. At $55 a picture and $50 an autograph, I’m sure the celebrities did very well. But, to stand there and smile and sign for hours on end? To have to hug thousands of rabid fans dressed as all kinds of strange creatures? To answer sometimes inane questions from those same fans? Maybe they deserve every penny they can earn.
Then, my daughter showed me an email she had sent to Vic. Vic is a professing Christian and Casey has met him once before at an Anime convention. She shared her life story with Vic in her email about her struggle with seizures and epilepsy and how 2013 was a horrific, but pivotal year in her life when she finally came out of the darkness into the light. She told him he was an inspiration to her.
Vic could have ignored her email. Or, at best, sent a canned reply. Casey told me he read every personal email he received and he responded to Casey. He remembered her as the last person in the photo op and he recalled holding her fez. He said he was encouraged by her life story and he was grateful he had inspired her, but in reality, her story inspired him! What a class act!
I know it was hard standing for hours. I know it was strange seeing so many obsessed fans, myself included, looking for something to give their lives meaning and purpose. I know it was hard to have to choose between so many good options and to fork over good, hard earned money for a single picture. But, to see the smile on my daughter’s face. To read her heart felt email and read Vic’s equally moving reply was worth every moment, every minute, every pain, every cent we spent.
Thanks, Vic. And, thanks, Karen.
Our Darkness, His Light
I noticed the decrease in the noise coming from outside our airplane. We were about 45 minutes into a 2 hour flight. It was far too early for the airplane to be slowing down for its descent. Along with the change in sound level, I noticed a queasiness in my stomach. I glanced out the window at the cloud level beneath us. Perhaps it was just turbulence. We were supposed to fly over a cold front moving through Alabama toward our departure city, Atlanta. I continued to read my book and noticed the persistence of the queasiness. I am prone to motion sickness and after ten or fifteen minutes I decided there was something not quite right about the motion of our airplane. I glanced across the aisle at my wife. She was asleep as usual. I could never sleep on a flight. I don’t like flying at all. I never have.
“When it’s your time to go, it doesn’t matter if you are in an airplane or not.” I’ve been told. But what if it’s the pilot’s “time to go”? My father passed away in October, 2012 at the age of 98 and he steadfastly refused to fly. Why? Because in the event of a crash he didn’t want “to wake up dead.” Hmmm!
The intercom crackled and this is what the pilot said. “Well, we are on descent for a landing in Birmingham.” Our destination was Shreveport, Louisiana — not Birmingham! “Just to let you know we have lost one of our two engines and we cannot get it restarted. There is no need for alarm because we can fly perfectly well with only one engine. But, we are making an unscheduled landing in Birmingham for safety’s sake and to check out the engine. We’ll be on the ground in ten minutes.”
On the ground in ten minutes. Not necessarily the best choice of words! My heart skipped a few beats and I reached across the aisle and grabbed my wife’s hand. She was wide awake now having heard the entire message. We looked at each other wordlessly. What can you say? We could very well die. If the other engine failed, we became a flying brick — very little chance of gliding to a safe landing. So, we prayed. It was all I could think to do.
Curiously, I was not panicky. I should have been. I was a bit nervous, but that sickening feeling of impending doom never settled in. There was nothing I could do. I was at the mercy of the pilots and their skill level. The flight attendant merely smiled at us. It was a forced smile hiding her own nervousness. As she bustled down the aisle to make sure we were all belted in, the smile never broke. She had made a connection with my wife who is always gregarious and reaching out to other people to know more about them. She put a hand on my wife’s shoulder. “I knew something happened a few minutes ago. But, we are going to be fine.”
We landed without difficulty just like any ordinary landing except for the firetrucks racing down the runway keeping pace with our airplane. We all applauded at the landing and then fell silent at the sight of men clad in silver hazmat suits waiting at the gate. We pulled up to the exit ramp and the flight attendant immediately opened the door. But, the jetway stayed retracted.
“We will sit right here for a few minutes.” The pilot assured us over the intercom. “While the mechanics check out the engine. We’ll let you know in a few moments whether you will be deplaned or if we can get the engine fixed and take off again.”
Take off again? No way! I wanted OFF that airplane. It only took about 5 minutes and the jetway pulled up to the doorway. In the meantime, the flight attendant said over the intercom, “Don’t be alarmed at the fire trucks and the fire men. This is standard procedure whenever there is a engine, uh, engine, uh, malfunction.” The unspoken word was ‘fire’. She kept her cool and never uttered it.
We left the airplane and hurried into the Birmingham terminal. I glanced out the window at our aircraft. The right engine looked perfectly normal — no smoke or fire. My wife and I settled into some seats to await our fate.
Here is where things got very interesting. I am a people watcher. I love to see how people respond in unusual situations. What transpired over the next 4 hours did not disappoint me. The lady sitting next to me settled in beside my wife and they instantly struck up a conversation. I wandered down to the restroom to relieve myself and wash my face.
It took about an hour but the decision was made that a new airplane was being flown from Atlanta to take us on to Shreveport. We landed at 130 PM and we were told the airplane would land about 320 PM. A short, dumpy man sitting next to me began to mumble. “They are liars. Consummate liars. All of them. Don’t believe a word they say. If they are breathing they’re lying!” These comments returned every time there was an announcement. Mr. Grumpy continued to spew forth his vile pessimism endlessly for four hours. Over and over, he called everyone in earshot a liar. As time passed, he added curse words to his mantra. He called up the airline on his cell phone while announcements were being made overhead to chew out some hapless airline employee on the other end of the line. I finally had to get up and walk away.
Eventually we had a departure time of 4 o’clock and my wife and I and her new friend walked down the terminal to find some lunch. We settled down for an hour and my wife and her friend soon exchanged life stories.
Here is my first observation.
Women have an unlimited capacity for bonding together, even between total strangers. My wife and Vicky took only about 5 minutes to establish a level of friendly intimacy it would take a man and his friend to discover in a life time. Meanwhile, the men in the waiting room were either cursing or talking to their business destination about being late, or in one case, talking to a wife to make sure their life insurance was up to date. Business as usual for us, guys. No mawkish emotionalizing on our part UNLESS it was to ream out the airline for delaying our arrival at our destination. Men, we could learn a thing or two from our wives.
After returning to the gate area, I was amazed as I watched three men come to the desk and request some kind of refund or remuneration for the inconvenience of our our delay. Each time, the person was told that giving out cash or vouchers was not the policy of the airline when there was an equipment malfunction. All of these men went away angry and soon our waiting area was host to “twelve angry men”. However, Mr. Grumpy still took the prize. Our new airplane landed at 4 o’clock and we had a new departure time of 4:20 PM. We would be arriving in Shreveport about 5:30 PM four hours later than our scheduled arrival time. I went to the restroom and while standing at the urinal noticed that Mr. Grumpy had arrived at the urinal next to mine. He was still complaining and cursing as he emptied his bladder. I felt sorry for his body parts — they could not walk away from his complaining. But, at least he had one inseparable friend he could complain to who would never talk back!
Here is my second observation.
My wife and I were on a flight from Atlanta to Shreveport when one of the two engines malfunctioned. We could have died. But, the two pilots managed to land us safely in Birmingham. Our inconvenience ended up being a four hour delay. I would say that is more than adequate payment in exchange for our lives! Instead of being grateful we were alive, some of us were demanding money in exchange for inconvenience and others were calling the people who saved our lives “liars” and other names I shall not repeat in mixed company. I leaned over to my wife and said, “Instead of complaining we should all be grateful we arrived safely without incident and we have a flight home on the same day!” Funny how things can change if you have the right attitude!
We loaded up on the new airplane and settled into the same seats. My wife’s new friend sat beside me and asked if I had heard the complaints of “Mr. Grumpy”. Seemed everyone had. He was way back behind us safely belted into his seat and I felt sorry for those who were around him for the duration of our flight home. We had a new crew and the same flight attendant. Just before boarding, I had watched the senior pilot take his bags and walk down the terminal. I wanted to run up to him and thank him for landing us safely. In retrospect, I should have. Instead, all he heard were strident voices of complaining and cursing. The man saved our lives!
After we took off, the flight attendant was delivering drinks and paused to speak to my wife. She told us they had put her on another flight but without a flight attendant, we would not have been able to fly home, even with a new crew. She insisted on finishing out our flight to make us feel more comfortable. She shared all of this with my wife. My wife thanked her for smiling and trying her best to make us feel safe. It was then the flight attendant delivered the bomb shell. She told us she had been flying with the two pilots on our original flight for a long time. And, then she told my wife that those two pilots had just completed training the day before on a flight simulator in, guess what emergency? You got it! They had just trained in the emergent scenario of landing an airplane with only one engine! My wife glanced at me and I got all weepy and wiggly inside. God was in control! This wasn’t a random series of events at all. She smiled at the flight attendant and said “That was God.” The flight attendant nodded. “Yes, I agree.”
Here is my third observation.
And, here my foundational beliefs do bias my conclusions. I recently posted on Speculative Faith and I was not received kindly by some of the commenters. One commenter said that we place too much emphasis on sharing the Truth with a capital T as Christians. That sometimes creating something of beauty is just that. Just go with it! Another commenter said my devotion to defending the truthfulness of the Christian faith was tantamount to being a “talking head”. Hmmm. Maybe all this God talk is overdoing it. Why don’t we just sit back and enjoy the ride?
Let me state unequivocally that everything I believe, everything I cling to, every rational shred of intellect, every emotional feeling of pain or love comes from my absolutely unshakable conviction that there is a God who brought this universe into existence and has designed it and built it for His glory and that He has invited us to be a part of a grand and wondrous Story that is unfolding from the very beginning of time and space until the end of it all. And that God, the triune God of the Bible, can be known, can become a companion that dwells in our laughter and in our light and is always there in our darkest moments even when we choose to be Mr. Grumpy or seek some type of material compensation to salve our tortured souls. It is a sad commentary on our central pride and arrogance that it takes a terrible crisis to make us stop and examine what is real and what is truly meaningful in our lives and that is not hubris or things — rather it is people and souls and time spent in the glow of God’s created beings — our companions on this journey toward forever — that will last beyond this universe into eternity. And, when we arrive at that conclusion and we finally see dimly with God’s eyes this terrible and wonderful Plan that is unfolding around us then we find true joy and true peace. For ultimately God will show us always that He and He alone is in control. He is God and I am not. I’ve seen His job and I don’t want it! Like our stalwart pilot who walked away lonely but triumphant his ears filled with jeers and curses — God endures our grumpiness and our demands for the material and our arrogance and our ego and loves us still and continues to deliver us from the enemy. His amazing love is truly unconditional!
Someone once said that faith is walking to the edge of your circle of light and taking one more step into the darkness. I disagree. Faith is knowing that beyond the failing light of our lives there is more than living and dying in the darkness — for God is there also waiting for us with an open hand to take us safely through the darkness into the ultimate Light of His love and glory. And that step we take, that hand we reach out can only happen because we have seen the evidence of His power and His plan and His love. Faith is acting upon that knowledge and being willing to put aside our own selfish point of view and see the world, the universe, eternity from God’s perspective. When we do we realize that our darkness is His light!
Of Demons, Deluges, and Disney
I am stranded in Orlando, Florida.
I am stuck on Disney property.
Now, I love Disney. But, as my late father once said, “I may be thirsty but I don’t want to drink from a fire hydrant.” I’ve had a wonderful time here with my daughter, Casey (for her birthday) and my sister, Gwen and her daughter, Rhonda. But, my wife was supposed to fly down yesterday and my sister and daughter fly home and I will be lucky if flights resume tomorrow.
Which only goes to show that too much of a good time is just that. But, the cast members here are making the best of a bad situation — lots of rain and record low temperatures as wells as cancellations of flights necessitating extensions of room reservations. Today, for instance, it is drizzling rain and about 45 degrees. If you know Florida, you know that a cold rain in Florida is miserable!
On another note, I received a very nice email from a fan. Yes, a fan! I seem to have those. She loved “The 11th Demon” and wanted to know when “The 10th Demon” would be out! Those are wonderful words. But, let me clue you in on a little insight to the publishing industry. Books must sell. Publishing is a business. And, for number 10 to show up, I have to sell lots of number 11!
I will soon begin a marketing campaign, so hopefully more people will here about Jonathan Steel and his exploits. I have been asked to write a guest post for Speculative Faith, a website devoted to Christian Speculative Fiction and I will keep my readers posted. Maybe some word of mouth will boost my book sales. If not, then Jonathan Steel’s story may end with the 11th demon even though there are ten more books in the pipeline.
I’ll tell a sodden, shivering Micky Mouse you said hi!
Remember, you can order all three books at a discount at www.11thdemon.com .
Resist the Urge to Complain! (Or, RUE and Sherlock)
If you have never seen the BBC production of Sherlock and you are an avid reader or even interested in good, solid writing, then shame on you! I watched the final episode in season 3 Sunday afternoon (I had to search the internet to find a quasi-legal live stream of BBC because Sherlock Season 3 will not be available in the U. S. until this coming weekend) and wept, screamed with delight, shouted with shock, and almost fell out of my chair in the final five minutes! Such is the sheer wonder of watching any show from the Mark Gatiss/Steven Moffat team responsible for the modern adaptation of Sherlock and the past three seasons of Doctor Who.
In my last blog post, I mentioned what I consider the smartest science fiction television episode of modern times, “Blink!” written by Steven Moffat. As a writer of Christian speculative fiction, I truly appreciate smart, clever writing. Too often, our modern writers over explain things or, worse, never explain anything leaving you hanging in an eternal limbo of unanswered questions.
Recently, Steven Moffat came under criticism for his stories containing “plot holes”. Hmmm. Plot holes? Reading between the lines, unanswered questions. Here is what he had to say about his “plot holes”.
“I think people have come to think a plot hole is something which isn’t explained on screen. A plot hole is actually something that can’t be explained. — Sometimes you expect the audience to put two and two together for themselves. For Sherlock, and indeed Doctor Who, I’ve always made the assumption that the audience is clever.”
Ah, are you are clever reader? Or, do you prefer for the author to spell everything out in great detail?
In the business, authors use the acronym, RUE. Resist the Urge to Explain! You see this rule violated with increasing frequency. I call it the tyranny of “as you know”. The new show, “Intelligence” abandons subtlety for blanket exposition. Things are explained to the audience because we are so stupid, we might not get it. Many lines of dialogue can be prefaced with “As you know, so and so has this computer chip implanted in his head which gives him the ability to . . . .” This bleeds into another staple of writing, “Show, don’t tell”. A “clever” writer shows the facts we need to know instead of spelling them out.
In the recent third season of “Sherlock” viewers (spoilers ahead — don’t read this paragraph if you have NOT seen season 2) waited for TWO years to find out how Sherlock survived his demise at the end of season 2. Great debates raged online. In my home, my daughter and her best friend and I watched the episode three times and came up with our own theory. Now, the lazy writer would have started off this new season with a quick and dirty explanation of how Sherlock survived. Instead, we are treated with numerous live action replays of some of these “theories” in what is some of the most clever sequences ever. In fact, the viewer doesn’t learn about the truth until near the end of the episode and it is an integral part of the unfolding story of Watson’s reunion with a supposedly dead Sherlock.
Plot holes? I think not. I was engaged. I was a part of the process. It was hard. It was tedious. But, it was fun!!! And, as a reader, the best books make me carry part of the load. The best written stories make me work along side the author in solving the “plot holes”. “Lost” has received great criticism for its finale. But, if you watched the show, you realized it was addictive and compelling. For the entire run of the series, fans formed theories and ideas. The reason the finale was not satisfying is because the hype over the finale (like the new Star Wars movies back in 1999) could never satisfy all of the various theories floated by fans.
Steven Moffat recently ended the 50 year run of Doctor Who with his own “trilogy” and the story he wrote changed the entire direction of the show for the next 50 years. Theories were abundant on the internet and in homes around the world. My own family was rife with theories. My son and his wife had their own theories that were, to me, quite exotic and bizarre. The point of all of this is that we were ENGAGED. These supposed “plot holes” served to pull us into the story. We worked hard for months leading up to the finale trilogy realize that the excellent writing of Steven Moffat would go in a direction we could never have seen and also, instead of disappointing us, it would leave us supremely satisfied. And, that was the results for us when the credits rolled at the end of “The Name of the Doctor”, “The Day of the Doctor”, and “The Time of the Doctor”. We have forgotten the joy of anticipation!
I write this blog to talk about writing and being an author. So, the takeaway from this post is simple. We need “plot holes”. We need writing that engages the reader or the viewer. In a culture where answers are just a text away; where information flows through our brains like “crap through a goose” as Patton once said; where choices are endless and we live in a whirlwind of instant gratification it is comforting to know that clever and skillful creative minds out there still value the “plot hole”. As for me, I want to work to solve the problem of the story; I want to step into the world created by the writer and be just as stymied and stumped as the protagonist. In short, I want to be IN the story, not sitting back just observing. I want to enjoy the journey just as much as the destination.
So, keep on resisting the urge to explain. Continue to show, don’t tell. And, you will have a rapt and grateful audience!
Remember, my own three books in the “Chronicles of Jonathan Steel” complete the first trilogy in my thirteen book series and are available at 11tdemon.com for a special price right now. Check them out and see if I was successful with RUE and Show, Don’t Tell!
Winter Doldrums? Then, BLINK!
I decided to start out the new year watching what I consider to one of the best if not the best science fiction television episode ever. It premiered in 2007 and was written by Stephen Moffat. If you don’t recognize that name, then chances are you’ve never watched an episode of Doctor Who. Or, Sherlock for that matter. I can forgive ignoring Doctor Who. After all, it is a 50 year old science fiction television series. But, Sherlock? You’ve never seen Sherlock?
Get thee hence to iTunes or to Best Buy or to Netflix and watch the first six episodes of Sherlock and if you can stand it, turn on closed caption because the rapid fire deduction of Benedict Cumberbatch’s version of Sherlock Holmes will be unintelligible at best. Easily one of the best modern adaptations of Holmes I can’t get enough of this series. I’ve watched those six episodes at least a dozen times each and marvel each time at the brilliant level of writing (and, yes, acting). If you want to learn how to write a compelling and gripping story, watch anything written by Moffat, especially Sherlock. Pay attention to the pacing, the dialogue, the sub-text, the plotting, the timing. Everything is brilliant!
Yeah, so back to Doctor Who. If you’ve never seen an episode (particularly of the modern incarnation) and you a science fiction fan then you must watch “Blink”. Actually, the episode features the Doctor in only about 10 minutes of the show. It is definitely anchored by a young Carey Mulligan playing Sally Sparrow and it is the smartest, most well written story. You don’t even have to understand the mythos behind Doctor Who to enjoy the story. It is completely self contained and for a time travel story, it is too perfect.
The problem with watching this episode is you will NEVER be able to look at a statue the same way again, particularly if it is of an angel. In 2009, I went to London and Paris. Standing in the shadow of Notre Dame cathedral with all of its gargoyles and statues of angels and demons I definitely got a full body shudder!
So, take an hour sometime this weekend and find “Blink” from 2007 part of the new seasons of Doctor Who and watch it. You’ll never regret it. Just remember. Whatever you do, don’t blink!
By the way, you can save on purchasing my Chronicles of Jonathan Steel books at www.11thdemon.com. Check it out today!
Bruce Hennigan 
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