Bonus Book Excerpt

This excerpt is from my upcoming book, The Great Snake. If you don’t like spoilers, feel free to skip today’s post.

Background: Many years ago, shortly after Jai had gotten married, Jai’s mother died after giving birth to a baby girl, Klee. Jai took Klee and raised her as his own daughter. His wife, Amal, was jealous of the baby and never liked her. When Klee was a teenager, she ran away from home. The fallout from this blew up Jai’s marriage, and he is now camping out in an abandoned house that used to belong to his father, Endu. While there, he gets a visit from the tribal shaman, Ikash, his little brother.

As soon as he was strong enough to walk around and visit relatives, Ikash went to see his brother.

This required going to his father’s old house, because that was where Jai was staying. Ikash had been inside Endu’s house plenty of times during the four years since the founding of the village, but it had by no means become a second home to him. He had never felt he understood the inner workings of the family his father had built with young Dira, who was only a year older than Ikash himself. All he knew about their family was that it felt different. Different from the one he had grown up in. And so the house had never been exactly homelike.

But now, it was completely alien.

Endu’s house was a cavernous rectangle. The door, set in the middle, gave on to a great central hall. On either end of this were smaller rooms where the family slept. This time, when Ikash entered the central hall, he found it completely filled with the dark, fragrant bulk of drying wood planks. The planks were stacked in hollow boxes with aisles in between. They rose nearly to the ceiling and gave the place a completely different feel. One’s view was blocked, making the place seem even bigger.

His dog, Frost, was at his side. She scrabbled her toenails on the wooden floor and then began to sniff around, cautiously, as if in a new place. Ikash put a calming hand on her back and muttered a command to stay with him.

He called out for his brother.

Instead of echoing, the words seemed to be eaten by the stacked wood.

It was evening and Ikash had it on good authority that Jai was here, bedding down for the night. He must be in one of the side rooms. Ikash picked an aisle at random and began advancing towards the side of the house where Endu had usually slept. He almost felt as if he ought to have a weapon with him, as if he was stepping into an ambush. That, of course, was ridiculous.

He came into sight of the end of the aisle. There he could see the wall, and the door to Endu’s old bedroom. Jai was sitting with his back against the doorframe. He had a stone fire-basin on the floor in front of him, and he was warming his feet at the fire. His big skinny brown dog lay at his side. The fire cast a long shadow from Jai’s sharp nose and lit up a section of the wall around him.

A few steps from the end of the aisle, the firelight fell on Ikash and Frost. Jai squinted, said sharply, “Father? Is that you?” and scrambled to his feet.

“It’s me, brother.”

“Oh, God,” said Jai, visibly relieved. “Of course. It’s Ikash.” He invited his brother to sit down. Then he apologized for his mistake. “I thought for a second you were his ghost. You looked so much like him.”

“I don’t look like Father.”

“You do, though, now that you’ve gotten so skinny. I thought you might be his spirit.”

“I’m not, but thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” said Jai. “I don’t keep food in this house generally. I had supper at the central fire.”

“I thought that might be the case, and I brought something.”

Ikash had with him a small satchel containing cakes that his wife had made using cornmeal, cattail-root starch, and last year’s dried berries. He brought them out and shared them with his brother, his brother’s dog, and his own dog.

He noted with surprise that this brought tears to Jai’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He too had been brought to tears, once upon a time, by the simple fact of someone cooking something special for him.

They sat in silence for a long time. Ikash kept waiting for Jai to speak, but he didn’t. He seemed too preoccupied to wish his younger brother a good recovery, if indeed he was even aware that his brother had been sick.

At last the shaman said, “How do you like this house, brother?”

Jai had a small, narrow face topped with his father’s long almond-shaped eyes. He now turned the face toward his brother and those eyes gave out their trademark flat stare that might have been hostile or incredulous.

“No, of course I don’t like this house. This isn’t a house at all. It’s a goddam warehouse. I am living here because I can’t live in my own house any more. I am homeless. That’s how I like it.”

He snorted.

Ikash drew a breath, but his brother wasn’t finished.

“And I am living here because, as I think you know, I was kicked out of my own house by your wife’s sister and her goddam family. I’ve been replaced by my mother-in-law. That’s how things are going. And you know what the chief is like, you know the way he is about his daughters. I doubt he’d let me back into that house if I wanted to.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.” The syllable was bitter, but it nearly broke at the end.

“Tell me more,” said the shaman.

Jai spoke for several minutes about his wife. He was clearly angry with her, mostly for being so angry with him. He was also very lonely. Endu’s house was spooky and unhappy, a far worse place to sleep than sleeping outdoors during a hunt.

Ikash nodded. He had felt the menace as he was walking through the drying wood stacks. He did not wonder that his brother had expected to see a ghost. Jai had the dog with him, that was the saving grace, but even he didn’t want to live here forever.

Ikash said, “What if you were to reconcile with my wife’s older sister?”

Jai stopped dead in his ranting and his long dark eyes looked sideways.

“Is that even possible?”

“Perhaps,” said the shaman. He had not spoken with Amal and knew little about her mental state.

“She insists that I not blame her for our sister leaving. But I have to. She mistreated Klee horribly. I didn’t think it meant so much at the time – she never beat her – but I was wrong. Girls are more sensitive, brother. All it takes to drive them away is words. Now I can’t believe that I let Amal turn her against me. I wish I had put a stop to it at once.”

“How would you have done that, brother?”

“I … don’t know.”

Silence descended as both brothers slowly realized that if Jai had tried to put a stop to it, it would only have brought on this very situation several years earlier.

“I’ve been a terrible father,” said Jai.

“You are not finished being a father.”

“To Klee.”

“You gave her a home, kept her fed and clothed, kept her alive as she grew. Now she is grown and gone. Married. As she would have done in any case.”

“That is true, brother.”

“Do you remember when we were young and we wanted to get out and explore?”

Jai got a fierce, faraway look and said nothing. After a moment he said, “Are you saying that I haven’t failed her?”

“Perhaps not as completely as she thinks.”

“But she hates Amal and me.”

“But she is alive and whole.”

“You are right,” said Jai. “Let her hate us if it makes her happy. I am still her brother.”

“She hates me, too,” said Ikash helpfully.

“And you hate our father.”

“No, brother, I don’t.”

“Well, you think he is dangerous, and a bad man.”

“In many ways, he is.”

“He was a great father,” said Jai. “I still don’t know how his house got so sad and ghosty. I can’t understand it.” He shook his head silently for a few moments, and then said, “Brother … I feel as if …” And then with a very fierce look, “Do not mock me.”

“I won’t.”

“I feel as if,” said Jai, stroking the dog and not meeting his brother’s eye, “As if, were I to … truly let Klee go … I’d be failing our mother. Again.”

And Ikash took a sharp breath as if he had been stabbed, but did not reply.

This was too big a matter for words, so the two of them sat in silence a time.

“But she is grown,” said Jai then. “Not dead, but grown. Do you really think I can reconcile with my wife?”

“Maybe it is possible,” said the shaman carefully. “I think … I think it might be necessary that the two of you stop talking about Klee. I know that … I realize what that … means to you. But you may need to do it if you want to reconcile with your wife. Perhaps you can sort of … start over.”

Jai’s face softened. “Start over,” he murmured. “If she agrees to start over …, would you do some sort of ceremony for us?”

“I’d be honored.”

His intercession did not make all come right immediately. But Jai began to make overtures towards reconciling with Amal. In the early summer, Ikash did a reconciliation ceremony for his brother and sister-in-law that involved smoke and sacrifices. Everyone was as happy as if it were a wedding. At that time, it had been exactly a year since Klee found out the truth about her parentage.

Not long after this, the tribe performed on Endu’s house what might be described as an extreme form of spring cleaning. The seasoned wood was removed and re-stacked in a dry outdoor location, with a temporary cattail roof overhead to protect it from rains. The house itself was then dismantled. Some of the timber was salvaged, but most of it, the “ghosty” part, was burned. Ikash performed a purifying ceremony over the land where the house had been. The newly seasoned timber was then used to make a tribal meeting hall. The remnants of Endu’s house were used in a remodeling project that Jai and Amal were undertaking.

Snow or Sahara?

So, what are these things do you think? Are they snow drifts, or sand dunes?

Yes to both.

These were the surreal conditions in my front yard last week, after a cold snap and some very strong winds first created sculpted snow drifts, then covered them in dirt. The surface was such that you could walk on it, and I’m no featherweight.

Things are melting now, which means that a lot of dirt is being dumped on top of the grass in my front yard.

You Guys Think I’m Exaggerating with this Painting

… but this is really what our sunsets look like around here, quite often.

And that isn’t even the finished version. I give you:

Really?” you’re saying. “Sunset clouds and a rainbow? Come on.”

No, I promise you we get these conditions here in Idaho, and not that rarely either. This would be the eastern sky about half an hour before sunset, with a small rainstorm in the area. Now, granted, I did this from imagination and memory, not from life, and I left out details like the rain visibly falling, and I’d never painted a rainbow before … but it was an emergency! We were about to have a rainbow-themed party:

More Incisive Reasoning from Phillip Johnson

“Evolution” in the Darwinist usage implies a completely naturalistic metaphysical system, in which matter evolved to its present state of organized complexity without any participation by a Creator. But “evolution” also refers to much more modest concepts, such as microevolution and biological relationship. The tendency of dark moths to preponderate in a population when background trees are dark therefore demonstrates evolution — and also demonstrates, by semantic transformation, the naturalistic descent of human beings from bacteria.

If critics are sophisticated enough to see that population variations have nothing to do with major transformations, Darwinists can disavow the argument from microevolution and point to relationship as the “fact of evolution.” Or they can turn to biogeography, and point out that species on offshore islands closely resemble those on the nearby mainland. Because “evolution” means so many different things, almost any example will do. The trick is always to prove one of the modest meanings of the term, and treat it as proof of the complete metaphysical system.

Phillip Johnson, Darwin on Trial, p. 153

Quote: When Good Poets Go Bad

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In the following quote, Fiver, a sensitive rabbit, has just heard an evocative poem recited by another rabbit, in an underground hall.

They followed Fiver up the run and overtook him at the entrance. Before either of them could say a word, he turned and began to speak as though they had asked him a question.

“You felt it, then? And you want to know whether I did? Of course I did. That’s the worst part of it. There isn’t any trick. He speaks the truth. So as long as he speaks the truth it can’t be folly — that’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it? I’m not blaming you, Hazel. I felt myself moving toward him like one cloud drifting into another. But then at the last moment I drifted wide. Did I say the roof of the hall was made of bones? No! It’s like a great mist of folly that covers the whole sky: and we shall never see to go by Frith’s light any more. Oh, what will become of us? A thing can be true and still be desperate folly, Hazel.”

Watership Down, pp. 111 – 112

The X-Files Book Tag

I saw this tag on Emily Hurricane’s blog and I guess we are of the same generation, roughly, because there was a time when I watched the X-Files religiously, much to the annoyance of the people who lived with me. (I was a bad roommate. But that’s a story for another day.)

What can I say? I like aliens, dimly lit sets, interminable subplots, attractive actors, and Scully’s intelligent, sardonic mumble. And red hair. And … aliens.

Here are the rules for this tag: • Take out your fake FBI badge and answer the questions • You can link back to Book Princess Reviews if you wish • Keep the alien love alive and tag any and all X-Files fans you know…or just other people. (I myself will be tagging aliens only. So if you get tagged, I’m on to you …)

Fox Mulder

Mulder is known to have some “out there” beliefs, so name a book that you believe in despite everyone/ratings/reviews tell you perhaps isn’t that great.

Easy: the Bible. The more I read it, the more convinced I am that it’s the most amazing, epic, big, composite history book ever. But for people who have an issue with it, often one of their first complaints is that it’s not historical.

Dana Scully

Just like the resident FBI skeptic, name a book that you’re skeptical of (because of hype, sketchy cover, etc.)

Any book that offers a one-factor explanation for all the problems in the world, be that factor evolution, industrialization, racism, intolerance, capitalism, lack of faith in yourself and the universe, cholesterol, sugar, or whatever. Unfortunately, one-factor explanations are always popular. Which ones are most popular cycle through, and when an explanation is enjoying its moment in the sun, it seems to generate multiple books every year.

I Want To Believe

What book do you believe, just like the famous tagline, will be your next 5 star/crown read off of your TBR?

I hope this isn’t cheating, because I already started it just today: The Unseen Realm by Michael Hieser. (cue spooky X-Files music) I think this is going to be my go-to reference as I plan my next novel. I am borrowing it from a loved one, and let’s just say I hope he is not planning to use it any time soon.

Aliens

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Name a book on your TBR that is from a genre that seems out from another book world to you but still sounds super good.

When I attempted to enter a reading challenge at my local library last year, I read my very first Jack Reacher novel. I don’t usually enjoy spy stories or military stories, because I have sometimes found them hard to relate to. (Sometimes the people’s personalities disappear among all the high tech, action, or the inhuman-seeming military culture.) Not so with Jack Reacher. I will be coming back.

The Lone Gunmen

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Name a book that comes along with an epic team just like these three hacking men.

My rabbit-obsessed child and I just finished reading Watership Down together, and … talk about an epic team! Of rabbits! It starts with Fiver, a small, seemingly barely functional Cassandra of a rabbit who sees visions of the future. Then add Hazel, the only rabbit who believes Fiver when he says something terrible is coming. Then Bigwig, a large warrior rabbit who gets his rough edges sanded off, and Blackberry, clever enough to understand foreign concepts like boats, and Dandelion, the storyteller …

This is an amazing book, and I will definitely be saying more about it in the future.

Walter Skinner

Skinner is the boss that forever teeters on the edge of good and evil, so name a conflicting character for you (whether the character is just conflicted or you’re conflicted about your feelings for them).

(Hey, doesn’t every boss forever teeter on the edge of good and evil? Leadership is hard. You find out when you have to do it. If you manage not to mess up royally and ruin lives, you deserve a medal.)

Hope this isn’t cheating, but there is a very conflicted character at the center of my book The Great Snake, due to come out this spring. Klee has good intentions, but she’s mad at the world (and at her family). She has good reasons, but her harsh judgement of them leads her into some bad decisions. They, meanwhile, are also conflicted. They did let her down, but it was in the process of trying to navigate a messy situation that didn’t offer good solutions.

Cigarette-Smoking Man

Name the worst book villain you can think of just like this smoking fiend who refuses to stay dead.

Last year I read The Gulag Archipelago (abridged) by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. So I would have to say Stalin. Stalin did die, finally, but only after setting up systems that would continue making things worse and worse long after he was gone.

What do you think? Do you have books for these categories? Are you an X-files nerd? If you are an alien, shapeshifter, cave dweller, or a Bigfoot, please join the tag! All others may comment below.