Coming Out Of The Closet... As An Atheist

Religion is always one of those tricky things. I was lucky enough to never have such matters forced upon my life. The religious extent of my childhood was being christened, attending my sister's christening, and going to a primary school that had prayers in assemblies. Moving into my teenage years, my worldly views and scope expanded and I thought, 'Well, out of all the religions, Christianity sounds about the best'.

Things really took off around the age of fourteen or fifteen, when I started praying nightly. There were six prayers I'd always try to say (in my head) before I drifted off to sleep.

1. - The Lord's Prayer (or at least my garbled attempt at it).
   I was aware of the fact that missed out / messed up a few lines, but never really cared enough to learn the proper thing. I always opened with this as a sort of general prayer. It felt terribly rude requesting the prayers that followed, without paying some respects first.
   
   
2. - Prayer of Financial Stability.
   Speaks for itself. I was aware I was in a nice home with nice things, and didn't want that to change.
   
   
3. - Prayer of Protection.
   This was to protect me from threats both supernatural and realistic. The full list of things I prayed against was: ghosts, ghouls, phantoms, spectres, wraiths, spirits, poltergeists, demons, monsters, aliens, fallen angels, insects, arachnids, weirdos, psychos, nutters, mentalists, murderers, rapists, kidnappers, thieves, stalkers, yobbos, vandals, vagabonds, zombies, and husks.
   
   
4. - Prayer Against Nightmares.
   This might have been what started it. At about this age, I was absolutely petrified of having nightmares. I still imagine them to be highly unpleasant and rarely have them. But at this age I could not imagine anything more terrifying.
   
   
5. - Prayer Against Nastiness.
   I might be able to deal with other people's stupidity now a days, and back then I was certainly able to do so. But at the same time, I did reason that it would be far easier if I simply prayed people were nice – and didn't want to beat me up.
   
   
6. - Prayer Against Mini / Waking Nightmares.
   Ah ha! Nightmares again! Yes well this was a protection against what I deemed mini / waking nightmares. They were a particularly nasty variety that could be encountered when just on the fringe of sleep. You could be thinking about some perfectly innocent thought, when suddenly one line, phrase, or image, would come crashing out of nowhere, on full volume, right in your face, like a really horrid jump- scare.

That was that, my nightly prayers for the next six or so years. However with the realisation of my homosexuality, there came the realisation that some aspects of Christianity kind of treat that as an abomination. So in lieu of this, I decided to call myself a 'Custom Christian', picking and choosing the parts of the religion which best suited me (the prayers and Heaven / Hell system).

From here, nothing really changed until I met my boyfriend. It just so happened that on some nights, I forgot to pray. I had in fact prayed aloud once, just to prove too him that I did. But on the nights I didn't, I had no idea why. I think, looking on then and now, I stopped because he replaced what prayer was there for. I prayed mainly for protection from various things. When I was with him, I felt safe enough as I was. This was especially noticeable when, on the rare occasions when for one reason or another, we slept separately – I automatically prayed.

Thus, last year I downgraded myself from 'Custom Christian' to 'Decidedly Agnostic'. My mind developed a more scientific edge. I can safely say that I have seen no conclusive proof that ghosts or aliens exist. I'm open to the possibility, I simply haven't seen anything to convince me. The same goes for God. I believe it's far more likely life originated from the Big Bang, rather than the Garden of Eden. I almost thought it was disrespectful to keep praying, especially if I didn't really believe in what I was saying.

But then there's the Heaven and Hell conundrum. The other reason I believed in Christianity. It comforts me a great deal to imagine that bad people get what's coming to them and that nice people get to live forever in paradise. But even my idea of afterlife is skewed. I decided that if I went to Heaven, yes it would be brilliant having my own patch of afterlife designed into my perfect world where I could do whatever I wanted forever and ever. But eventually I could imagine it would tire. So I decided that my afterlife will be a multiple choice one. Heaven / Ghost / Reincarnation. I think after several (hundred?) years or so, I'd go for reincarnation, just to see how differently things could turn out. This vision of the afterlife is the one I still hold.

But is that fair? Why should I get to have a Heaven, without believing in the rest of it? That's just it, I only seek a Heaven-like state. I don't really think I'll have the power to live in Paralex, or fly, or spawn infinite chocolate. Maybe it's just the final moments of a dying mind, the last spark of brain activity warped into the span of an eternity, where my consciousness experiences whatever it wants to, until I can finally come to terms with nothingness.

So it comes to pass – I think I'm an Atheist. Of course I was presented with a common problem when I confided these feelings in my boyfriend. He was initially uncomfortable with the idea and asked: “Well what's the point then? If you don't believe in anything?” I'll admit this shut me up for a little while and actually made me reconsider the whole thing. It must be such a cold and sad world for Atheists.

Except not really. Because I would never say that I don't have belief or faith. I believe completely in the capacity for goodness. I have faith that Humanity will always do the right thing, in the end. Just because I don't worship a man in the clouds, doesn't mean my life is empty. Not one bit.

Sure, Christianity is still a great story and I don't think any less of people who believe in that or any other religion (except when it leads to pointless intolerance). If God descended from the sky right now, with complete proof of his existence, I'd be one of the first to fall down and eat my words...

… Or on second thought, I'd probably presume he's a Sufficiently Advanced Alien, who was masquerading as 'God' to win over gullible Humans!

What exactly AM I currently writing?

When I finished Spirit Rider: The Army of Bones, the second entry in the Spirit Rider Series, I decided that I wanted to branch out and try to give one of my other budding novels a chance. I went so far as to state on the Spirit Rider Facebook Page that I would begin work on the Dawn and Dusk Investigations.

This was something I did actually make a good start on. However I was short-sighted in two very important departments. Characterisation and dynamic. I spent forever trying to work out exactly how I wanted my two protagonists to act, something which I must admit, I'm still having some difficulty with now. Besides that there was also the question of how the dynamic between them would be. How would the story play out evenly? How would I utilise them both well? The one thing I have always vehemently tried to avoid was a Holmes and Watson situation.

In the end I started to realise that I was spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about writing, as opposed to actually doing much of anything. Also the first draft of chapter one, which was supposed to contain a 'logic puzzle' was full of holes and didn't give much hope for my 'clever and intellectual plot'.

So this was put to one side, whilst I moved on to the next series in line – Wonderland. A lot of thought was put into this and I actually started on the first chapter. However I was also working on my final project for university at the time. It was unusual for me in that it was not a series, but a stand-alone book called The Reverse Nativity. As I was writing the first few chapters (the criteria for the project) I realised that I was really enjoying the story and characters. In truth the idea was something that had been bubbling away since about a year prior. I was getting bogged down with the Dawn and Dusk Investigations and really wanted to write something fun. That's what The Reverse Nativity became.

In truth, if things had been slightly different, I would still have been writing it now. However, recently I've really wanted to focus on Spirit Rider again. I've been ploughing through the first book, realised that a few parts could really do with a re-write. When I've got the money I want to send it to a professional editor. I've seen a sample of what they can do – and I am thoroughly impressed. This is all in preparation for putting Spirit Rider on Amazon, where it really has the chance to reach a wider audience.

It was at this point that I thought, having two books from a series was ok, but three really is the magic number. The whole time I'd obviously wanted to be writing Spirit Rider, I just didn't want everything to be said and done, before I'd had a chance to do other things. So now I'm writing Spirit Rider: The Demon Invasion.

Will I ever get back to the Dawn and Dusk Investigations, Wonderland, and The Reverse Nativity? You can bet on it! I still absolutely believe in all of those stories, but for now, I'm returning to my first-born. Spirit Rider is once again the apple of my eye.     

REVIEW - Equal Rites - Terry Pratchett

It's no secret that Terry Pratchett is one of my all-time favourite authors, so when I started Equal Rites I went in with my usual high expectations. As usual, the book was effortlessly charming, full of great characters, and made me determined to move worlds when I die!

This entry in the Discworld canon tells the story of Eskarina, or Esk for short. The night she was born, a wizard imparted his staff to her, mistaking her for a boy. From that moment on, there was a sense of magic about her... but not the right kind. It was wizard's magic – and everyone knows you can't have a female wizard. The local witch, Granny Weatherwax tries to tame Esk's magic, and put her on the path to becoming a witch. But the staff the young girl inherited is determined to put more wizardly ideas in her head and soon, she and Granny must set off on a journey to the legendary college of magic – the Unseen University.

I'll start off by say that as much as I want to shower this with praise and declare it perfect, it does contain a few flaws. The first is one that I've found in most of the Discworld books I've read. Whilst the book is enjoyable as a whole, it doesn't really get good until about half way through. Don't get me wrong, there's still some exciting moments scattered throughout the first half, but I didn't really care as much until I got to the second portion.

But when we get to the end-game, then Pratchett does what he does best and really kicks it into high gear. When it comes to the end-game he never disappoints and Equal Rites is no exception. But it's the fact that I enjoy the non stop action of the endings, which makes me wonder if that's the whole point of the slow beginning. It's there to make the finale all the more exciting and tantalising, simple because you've been waiting the whole book for something this exciting to happen.

The other problem is that our main character, Esk, is fine to read and follow, but not terribly interesting. She's one of those funny little nine-year-olds who straddles the line between mature and childish. That's not a problem and can sometimes make for interesting reading, but that's about it. She's a little cheeky and occasionally wise beyond her years. In the end she's just a little same-y.

Finally, in a way that connects to Esk's ok-ness, is that idea that she's only just the main character. Like I said it only gets really interesting half way through, and that's because we meet Simon. He's a powerful wizard apprentice who's on the very of discovering the magical equivalent of physics. He understands and can explain the breakdown of the entire universe with maths and calculations, right down to the understanding of form and ideas. It's that very knowledge of existence that has attracted the attention of the Things from the Dungeon Dimensions, who desperately what to break into the Discworld.

Now he should have been the main character!

It almost feels like Pratchett was plodding along with Esk's story of maybe becoming a wizard, when he realised that it wouldn't make for a good enough ending and decided to throw in a plot about magical physics and inter-dimensional monsters.

But do you know what? Pratchett's unique flare and humour is more than enough to get past that. Yes there's not all that much in the first half, but I didn't care because it was just charming enough to carry me along. I was interested to be in his world and was always curious to see what I'd discover next.

Not to mention (most of) the characters sure helped. I always thoroughly enjoy the wizards that Pratchett gives us, but after meeting Granny Weatherwax, I think I can develop a soft spot for the witches as well. She acts as the kind of staple character than I always like – the mentor. She's wise enough to fill the role, but not completely all-knowing in the way that elevates her above the reader. Plus she's unflinchingly tough and takes no prisoners. When the chips are down she's definitely the one you want by your side.

So in the end, all things considered, I can gladly give Equal Rites a good 8 / 10, taking points off old for the slow beginning and so-so main character. Everything else is the usual standard of humour and memorable characters that I've come to expect from one of the best authors I've ever read.

REVIEW - 1984 - George Orwell.

Nineteen Eighty Four is a classic in the dystopian sci-fi genre, which can in some cases appear worryingly prophetic. It's one of those titles on the '100 Books You Must Read Before You Die' lists that you always hear about. For these reasons I decided to give it a go. The points I just made are all true, but did I enjoy it? Well...

This is the story of Winston Smith, who lives in a totalitarian England in (what he presumes to be) the year 1981. He works for the mysterious ruling government known only as The Party, where his job is to alter records, so that everything The Party says is true. For example, if The Party sends out a message on Monday, saying it will rain on Tuesday, but then it's a perfectly sunny day – then it would be Winston's task to alter the weather report. Winston is well aware of the oppressive world he lives in, so begins a private rebellion against his masters, which soon spirals into a love affair with a colleague named Julia.

I'll say no more in case you don't know the rest of the plot and want to read it for yourself, but suffice to say, there is not a happy ending.

And that's precisely one of my problems with the book. It is so damn depressing! Yes I'm aware that this is very much the idea, but boy does it take some effort to read. The pure oppressiveness and fatalistic tone throughout is so very soul-destroying that by the time the ending rolls around, it's just that – an ending, as opposed to a finale.

Make no mistake, the world George Orwell crafts is nothing short of horrifying in the stagnancy of it. People are watched and listened to everywhere they go and merely thinking against The Party is a crime punishable by death. The worst part is that the majority of the population is completely accepting of this. Children are taught to betray their parents and love is almost completely unheard of. As a writer, one of the nastiest aspects for me was 'Newspeak' the language The Party was trying to force onto the world. It was a ruthless consolidation of English, which eliminated about 95% of the vocabulary we know today.

One major stickling point I have with the story, is a rather lazy info-dump around the middle. It's just the text of a book Winston is reading about the 'true nature' of The Party. After all the mysteriousness about them, it sounds interesting at first, but don't be fooled. It becomes very dull, very quickly and goes on for about twenty pages.

Hopping onto the positives, I did enjoy the end of the second section (the whole story is comprised of three sections) which made for a good twist and a truly stand out moment. This was also followed by the much heralded third section. I admit I was somewhat spoiled in some regards and had built the section up in my head... only to be somewhat let down. I suppose I expected something much more harrowing than what I got. But then again perhaps I've merely become too used to the ruthlessness of modern media!

Overall I give it a solid 6 / 10. I'd love to give it higher, but it really does like to drag it's feet and ultimately didn't live up to my expectations.

Remember – Big Brother Is Watching You.          

"What is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring" - Sherlock Holmes (BBC)

Seriously, what do you normal people think about? You know, when you're just wandering around or waiting for something - what thoughts are in your head? Do you just look and think about the scenery of your location or plan what to have for tea?

It simply baffles me to try and think about other people's thoughts, because I can't imagine what I'd think about without my stories. It may or may not be common knowledge, but I've basically been thinking about stories for as long as I can remember. Sure when I was like... six, they weren't my stories. Then I was thinking about my take on Crash Bandicoot, or Power Rangers, but the matter stands: I was thinking about characters, story-lines and dialogue. I cannot remember thoughts before that stage.

That's not to say I don't think about scenery and tea time, but at least 90% of my daily 'resting' thoughts (when tasked to do something I can usually... 'turn it off') are on my stories. Sometimes it's just playing a certain scene or two, but often I'm actually writing in my head, considering how I'd describe something.

This does make me something of daydreamer / head in the clouds, kind of guy, but I don't care. It's too much fun. If real life wasn't so mind-numbingly boring, I might pay more attention. At least this way, you'll almost never hear me complain that I'm bored!

Writing Is A Pain In The Backside - And I Love It!

Paradox? I think so!
(God I love the word paradox...)

But this does literally sum up how I feel about writing most of the time. The main issue is usually feeling 'not in the mood',which I convince myself will produce poor writing. That's true some of the time, but still the whole 'not in the mood' can sometimes be something of a front, a deflection of what's really the problem.

I am one lazy bugger.

I think about writing and the effort of simply opening a page makes me want to collapse. That and I'm too often so very easy to discourage. I run into a single problem (so what's the next sentence?) (does that sound weird?) (oh no I wanted them to talk about THIS not THAT) and shut down.

Then there are the days when all of it piles up and I ask myself: 'Do I still like writing? Should it be this hard to get going?' I remember being 11 years old, running downstairs early in the morning and just sitting in the kitchen, scribbling out page after page, for hours. When was the last time I did that?

But I know exactly why it's not that easy. I'm a grown up. Despite outward appearances, I have matured immensely since I was 11. Now, writing isn't just that cool thing I can do which impresses people. It's something other people do. It's something that I need to work at every day, trying to be better than everyone else if I ever want to stand a chance of standing out. When I was 11, school, writing, the future - everything was in the background. But when you become an adult, there are no more backgrounds. Every aspect of your life is right there staring you in the face. Staring so hard your every instinct is to flinch.

What's the point? If it was any good then I'd be published already, selling a billion copies a day...

... Then those miserable monochrome five to ten minutes are gone. I break into a stride. I hit across a sentence that I love, or one I've dying to get down. I see my character and my story and the best lines and shining moments and I remember: Why the Hell is this here in the first place? Why isn't it all just in my head?

Because I believe in these ideas! I believe in them SO much that I just have to get them written I down. I spew it all out, knowing that 11 year old me would eat this up. He would be absolutely enthralled, desperate for more, desperate to permanently involve himself in the world I've made. Then I wonder... how many more of me are out there? Kids who just want to dive into something brand new. They want to laugh, they want to be on the edge of their seat, they want to get the next page, they want to get to the next book, and the next one, and the next one, and the next one!

Then I'm just going on and on and on. Next sentence - bring it on! I've got that line ready and waiting. The blank page isn't an immovable nightmare, it's a challenge, raring to be filled. Those little black letters, they're edged with sunlight and boy does it shine. Come on characters let's see what you can do with this! My fingers move like lightning. I'm three pages ahead of where I'm writing and I am SO ready to get there. The keystrokes, the keys. You know what else has keys that don't open doors? Pianos. Now that's no coincidence. They have music. I have words. It's Für Elise. It's that little tune that you just know. You  know it's right and it's perfect and it just feels so...

Next chapter.

Sit back. Deep breath. Small grin.

THIS is writing - and I love it.

Tall Tales - Hermes Stilt

Hermes Stilt enjoyed about nine years of happiness and normality, when he was a child. Back then he was known as Hermes Steed and was surrounded by a loving family. However the world decided he was just perfectly suited for tragedy.

His family accidentally came into the path of a monstrous Demon. Whilst it's uncertain as to whether Hermes genuinely can't remember much from that day, or he simply blocked out the trauma – three things are certain. The Demon killed all of Hermes' family. It tore off his legs. And it escaped.

Eventually some Government people came across the gruesome scene. Hermes pleaded with the Government to make them understand what happened, but this is the Age of Technology. As much as the Government knows there's a lot of unexplained and magical things still in the world, they're the first to deny such things. So rather than believe a terrified boy's story about a Demon, they decided he must be a cold and calculating killer, and charged him with the murder of his family – also sentencing him to death.

Thankfully the Government isn't all bad, and Sir Butchery, one of the President's personal bodyguards, took pity on Hermes and helped him to escape. He brought him to Dr. Fayetteville, an old retired pirate. He believed Hermes' story and built him his mechanical wooden legs. He also agreed to teach the boy to fight and for the next fifteen years, was his personal trainer. The training olny came to an end when Dr. Fayetteville died of a terminal illness. On his death-bed he told Hermes how to find Pyrus, the original pirate, the person he'd have to seek if he wanted to become a Pirate Captain. He revealed to him that Pyrus was an ancient creature – and certainly not to be trusted. He was once a powerful monster, but he was stripped of his power and imprisoned. He was also the best source of information on the Demon.

So Hermes sought out Pyrus and was declared a Pirate Captain. At the same time he dropped the name Steed in place of Stilt, thinking it was a stupid name for someone with no real legs. He also asked Pyrus about his Demon and the two came to an agreement. Whenever Stilt found some item or relic that brought Pyrus a step closer to being free or returning to his old form, he'd offer Stilt a hint about his Demon.

By tradition, Stilt was accompanied on his travels by a long-dead Pirate Captain's ghost, who could offer advice. This was how Stilt came to befriend Captain Jacob Daniels. It was also on this day that he met fellow Pirate Captain, Laura Emmultine. Needless to say, several dates and months later, the two of them were married.

However when it came to piracy, the two of them had severe issues. Whilst Laura was happy to go along killing and robbing, Stilt was decidedly more lawful, declaring that he was falsely accused of murder and he'd never commit a further crime. But even more troubling was Laura's obsession with land. She'd grown up around legends of ancient machines called Terraformers, which could bring land back to the world. Stilt simply couldn't see the point of such a thing and eventually it caused so many arguments that the two decided to get divorced. In fact by the end it was so bad, Laura wanted to kill Stilt... and still does in fact.

So Stilt was practically alone and no closer to finding his Demon. It was time to form a crew...

I always think that Stilt is a remarkably bright and chirpy character, considering his rather grim past. Then again, they say some people are happier as a reflex of such things. Maybe it's the fact that Stilt's got a light Scottish accent. You can never go wrong there.

I like that he's usually very calm and jokey in the face of some the mad adventures he and his crew end up in. He's infinitely brave and unwaveringly loyal, doing anything for his crew. He's also a very smart man, often being the main brain behind all of their plans.

One of the only problems I sometimes have when it comes to writing him is remembering that his legs make him about twelve foot tall, and that can have consequences in normal-sized rooms!