The Rules (For the Game of Life): a book review

Simply put, The Rules (For the Game of Life) is one of the most enjoyable books I've read in a long time.

 

The simple bones of the plot of this novel is that God has conversations with Harvey during the roll-out of Harvey's life. Harvey is the Everyman of the avoid-discomfort-at-all-costs generation. God is surprisingly appropriate to my world view--no noticeable gender, kind, truthful, and willing to occasionally speak in the venacular.

The plot unfolds easily and naturally, without the pretension of jungles or burning bushes (unless one considers Malibu, California, a jungle or desert of sorts). Expect unexpected ideas in a familiar setting--a sort of hitchhiker's guide to consciousness. Harvey meets "the voice" in the pine tree at his sister and brother-in-law's house (who have asked him to move out), on an ocean beach beside his BMW, on a sun-warmed stone in Lake Tahoe, and in the solariam of a retirement home.

The rules, of course, are important to the gravitas of the subject matter--and they hold up quite well. The rules make sense but also allow enough interpretation to stimulate not only the dialogue that comprises much of the book but also the reader's curiosity. This fits in well with the subtitle: An inner dialogue, in which secrets are revealed. The rules, as they are revealed, do have a cummulative effect.

The real power of The Rules (For the Game of Life) pleased me immensely. The real power of the novel isn't secrets from God revealed but the power of Allen Cobb's prose style. The charm of Cobb's prose writing is that it is so easy to read; it is so natural that one just listens and believes. Yes, I'm saying he makes conversing with God totally believable. He makes God a believable character: immense yet compassionate.

For me, the rules were about how we structure a world of our own making, and then we enter into it and live our lives. A great insight for me was how true it is that we live a great deal of our lives on "automatic pilot"--and to judge that as good or bad is missing the point.

One aid I would like to have had with the book is to have access to the list of rules--numbered and all on one page at the back of the book so I wouldn't discover the list until I'd gotten through the book one time. When God says, "Rule number 3, Harvey," I'd like a quick reference to that rule when I read the book again.

And I will read The Rules (For the Game of Life) again. The prose is easy to read, but that doesn't mean the ideas aren't deep. Read this book. I think you'll find it reassuring.

Copyright 2013 by Thomas L. Kepler, all rights reserved

The Quiet Man, a movie review

Having been away from home and my wife for three weeks, I was looking forward to watching John Ford's The Quiet Man.

John Wayne gets to show his more sensitive self, Ireland shows its green--welcome after the early Mediterranean browns of California's spring rather than the green spring of Iowa. Maureen O'Hara gets to show her feisty self to best advantage . . .

And I was moved by Wayne's interpretation of fighter Sean Thornton who has vowed to keep his fists out of the fight. And I did enjoy the green fields heavy with recent rain. (The Quiet Man was the first American major film to have footage shot in Ireland.) Maureen O'Hara was the "fiery Mary Kate," damned if any man was going to tell her what to do and damned if she would love any man who wouldn't and couldn't.

It was the stereotypes that got to me: men violent to women and brawling as a pastime; drunkenness as a national pastime; smoking as the essence of virility. After a while, I had to enjoy the film in spite of its assumptions.

This film was released in the year of my birth. Thank god my growth and my generation's was away from many of the social beliefs of that time. We are a diverse world, and I'm glad to have that understanding as part of who I am. The Irish aren't all drunken brawlers any more than all Americans are violent, gun-packing mobsters.

The movie, though, has its sweet and humorous moments--it's just too bad that when Sean Thornton, aka John Wayne, finally has his epiphany, the resolution of the conflict is determined by who is the best brawler and boozer. With Irish music in the background.

And, yes, I did cry at times during the flick. I really miss my wife.

Copyright 2013 by Thomas L. Kepler, all rights reserved

Care-giving to the Elderly and the View from 100 Years

Helen Keller once mentioned that the world of the blind was not boring but a constant adventure. That is what I call a positive attitude. I am now taking care of my parents and find Keller's optimism even more amazing . . . and inspiring.

My mother is 88 years old and is becoming progressively blind and deaf. She can hear most of what is said if one speaks slowly and loudly into her left ear. He eyesight is failing--and she was legally blind before now. She can see a little out of the corners of her eyes and works around the house mostly by touch and smell. She cares for my dad.

My dad is a month away from 93 years of age. He has a pacemaker and is somewhat mobile--enough to move 20 or 30 feet to the kitchen, bathroom, or living room with a walker. He is extremely forgetful and confused. Recently, he just wants to lie in bed because of dizziness.

I have to honestly say that they do not see their current reality as an adventure but more as a struggle, one they are bravely continuing but with an increasing doubt as to whether it is all worth it. I think right now, they continue on for each other's sake, so that no one will be alone.

I recently read a book titled Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters' First 100 Years. Written by two

Black American sisters at the ages of 101 and 103, the book is a chronicle of American history from the eyes of two who lived those hundred years and experienced great change for their people and for their nation--for they were unabashedly patriotic. The book is filled with thoughtful and humorous quotations steeped in the wisdom of their years: "Life is short, and it's up to you to make it sweet."

This book was written, though, when Sadie and Bessie Delancy were both alert and active, even in their years. They do talk about their mother, whom they cared for in her last years, and how they had to watch over her because of her wandering mind and feet.

My parents have completed  "death with dignity" agreements that are signed by them, their doctor, and by me. These agreements essentially say that if major heart or respiratory failure occur, to let them go rather than being brought back to live in even greater diminished capacity. They've had their adventure and are ready to move on to their final journey when the time arrives.

Like the Sword of Damocles, modern medicine can give you life--even more than you would wish to have. Modern medicine can prolong life and also prolong suffering. And who can say how long a life is enough? Even the individual him or herself may not be able to answer that if the mind is too confused or feeble.

I am not being needlessly depressed, though, nor do I wish to depress anyone reading this. Rather, I am inspired to provide my parents with a good environment. I am inspired to keep myself healthy and to not delude myself that modern medicine can extend our lives beyond our natural time. I am inspired to live my life and to love the world and its people, including myself.

As a young man, my dad and mom would take us camping in the Sierra Nevadas, and my dad would say, "Always leave the campsite in better shape than when you arrived." I think there's great wisdom in that. Enjoy our time in this life. Make our thoughts and actions worthwhile. And don't think breath so precious that we forget that "inspiration" means taking in spirit and therefore overstay our time allotted us.

We shouldn't end our lives saying to ourselves the words of Oliver Hardy: "Here's another nice mess you've gotten me into." There's enough serendipity in the world without our adding to the mess.

Back to Writing? Maybe a Short Story About a Selkie . . .

Stamp from the Faroe Islands

I have this idea that's been on the back burner for several years. 

The story idea is set in the Dragons of Blood and Stone universe, and it's about a selkie. A selkie is a mythological creature of the sea, a seal that can transform into a human being.

The last quarter of school will begin on Monday, and I'm going to try writing again. My most successful adventures in writing while teaching have been to set myself a low, attainable goal . . . and then to stick to that. For me, the key to success is to make the goal low enough that it is easily attainable; then I tend to exceed that goal most weeks and to just barely attain it during a few time-critical points during the school quarter of teaching. I've written three novels this way, two of them published and the third awaiting the summer for a major transformation rewrite. I also haven't written on a creative piece this school year--a major Situation (with a capital S).

My goal for this quarter: to write Monday through Friday at least 120 words a day, for Saturday and Sunday to write at least 200 words per day.

That totals 1,000 words per week, so when the school year ends, I will have written at least 10,000 words. That may not seem much, but my short story "Who Listened to Dragons" is under 9,000 words, and my writing experience with that story was that it was long enough to feel a good, sustained creative flow during the initial writing. When I wrote my novels, the goal was 200 words M-F and 500 on weekends, so I'm being realistic, considering my current teaching responsibilities.

A sustained, creative experience is something that is important to me. I tend to get moody if I don't write regularly. Blogging or non-fiction doesn't seem to provide me with the emotional nurturing that creative writing does. This is no slam to those forms of writing. I am expressing my very individual experience. For many years, I wrote poetry; now, I've focused more on the novel and short story genres.

Sustained, refined attention on language within a particular written piece, I think, allows me to maintain an internal environment that is creative in the most elemental form of the word: engaging in creation. This engagement is positive, nurturing, evolutionary; and it stirs and integrates me through the use of language: memories, sense experience, intellect, emotions, and my sense of self.

For me, this experience can be likened to opening a door and entering a new environment, my "secret garden," and thanks to Frances Hodgson Burnett for her 1910 novel The Secret Garden. Sometimes that door (or portal for science fiction and fantasy fans) is open and awaiting my entry, sometimes a light knock is required, and sometimes I feel like I'm opening the door with my face. In all cases, especially the last, gentle perseverance is required--and a lively awareness of the wonder of creation and the field of all possibilities.

No wonder I get somewhat grumpy when I don't write.

The plan is simple. I'll start Monday. Wish me luck.

Copyright 2013 by Thomas L. Kepler, all rights reserved

On-line Privacy & Tracking: Useful information from the pros

I've used Webroot as an anti-virus program on one of my family's computers for years. Recently, I've switched all our family over to this company, eliminating the automatic coverage from other sources.

It saved me money to consolidate, and I also have always liked Webroot/Zone Alarm's easy accessibility to a human being, rather than endless movement down non-human pathways.

Below is an interesting quick look at online privacy. Yes, there's some marketing embedded in the info, but I feel that' OK.