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themagiciansreccenter · 6 years

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Author Spotlight: @under-the-shady-tree

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

Well, my name is Lauren, I live in Indianapolis and groom dogs for a living. I have a very tight-knit family so I spend pretty much all my time hanging out with them and having fun being the “cool” aunt.

How long have you been writing for?

Since I learned how to write. My parents gave me a diary for my 6th birthday and from that moment on, I was writing all the time. I used to write stories about me and my friends and reading my stories during recess became a thing. I moved onto fanfiction once the internet came around and still continue to journal and write original fiction.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

A Life in the Day. I hadn’t written anything for almost two years. Life got rocky for a bit and I just couldn’t do it. I would get ideas for stuff, even The Magicians, but nothing would come of it. But that episode got whatever was blocked in my brain knocked out and it’s been non-stop since then.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Quentin. I just relate to him so much and understand how that brain could work. He comes really easy to me. Eliot also is one of my favorites, I find so much emotion and love buried under his persona and that is so much fun. Writing them together is just a joy. I also really like writing Margo and that one surprised me because I am so different from her, but like Eliot I’ve found what’s underneath all of her bravado to be so interesting to write.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

I guess season 3 since it’s the most I have written about, but I’ll write where ever the inspiration takes me.

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

Right now my time is pretty much all focused on my timeline 23 fic, We Will All Be Changed, it’s kind of a monster of a story for me so it’s got most of my attention. But I have a few things brewing. More of the mosaic lifetime, kind of examining how Quentin, Eliot and Arielle worked as parenting team and how they dealt with her death. I’m also dying to write teenage Rupert!

How long is your “to do list”?

Too long!

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

That’s hard, I always hate picking favorites. I lean more toward Destiny Is Bullshit I think because it was my first big one and it’s what really got me going into writing again. I really found Quentin and Eliot’s voices working on it and found that I actually could write Margo. The response I got from it was so positive as well and it really gave me a confidence boost that I never had before. It also inspired more than just that one story (now 8 in the series) and gave me a way to fill in the blanks for the rest of the season and for their mosaic lifetime.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

I would have to say my fic All That Remains is Love. It’s a 5+1 story dealing with death so it might be too depressing, but it’s all of my favorite things. It’s missing scenes we didn’t get to see, angst and Queliot falling in love very slowly. I also worked non stop on it once the idea hit me and it drove me a little insane until it was done. It emotionally drained me writing it so I just want to shove it at everyone and be like “LOVE THIS!!!”

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

It depends on the length of what I’m writing. For the shorter fics I usually have more of an abstract idea and a few lines of dialogue or a surprise ending in mind. I have a few playlists for certain moods. (I’m a little obsessed about having a soundtrack to everything I do in my life, not just writing) Then I just start working it out line by line.

For longer ones, it’s a much bigger process because I like to plan. I don’t even consider starting a multi-chapter fic unless I’ve worked out the beginning, middle and end and what the conflict is. I create a playlist that goes to that particular fic and that always sets a good tone for me. Then I break it down chapter by chapter and start writing. I get the bare bones out, like the dialogue and where they are. Then I add the inner thoughts and actions and emotions and just kind iron it all out.

Sometimes it changes a lot while I write, sometimes it sticks close to what I thought.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I’ve only been writing since midway through season 3 and haven’t stopped so I see myself just writing during both pretty consistently. As far as what will happen, it will only inspire more. I have a series that sticks very close to canon so I can get all my added scenes and further in-depth peek into the show. So that will only help that grow. And ideas that fit out of that bubble come along too and I just go with it.

I think it would be kind of fun to continue some of my season 4 speculation stuff right into au territory because I’m sure what I wrote won’t happen, so who knows.

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

Of fics that are finished, The Mess We Made. It was hard because I realized early on that I was writing a younger Quentin and Eliot than who they were in Destiny is Bullshit. I kind of struggled with getting them to fight, because I just spent months writing them with a lifetime together under their belt and a deep understanding of each other. The Mess We Made was them a few years into that lifetime so they were still learning things about each other and experiencing things for the first time. I ended up kind of leaning into that difficulty with getting them to fight and tried to amp up the fighting to a few big blow-ups.

My timeline 23 fic is quickly becoming my most challenging though, it’s basically 3 or 4 full-length fics that sometimes crossover and then all end up mashed together. It’s pretty challenging.

Are there any themes or tropes that you particularly like to explore in your writing?

Angst, angst and more angst, lol. I am also a sucker for deep connections between people, be it romantic or otherwise, and really expose the good, the bad and the ugly about those relationships. So you know, more angst. But happy endings are my favorite too.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

I’m always inspired by all the other Magicians fanfiction writers (honestly, Magicians fanfiction is really the only fanfic I read right now)

Alice Sebold is probably my favorite writer. She has a way of writing emotion in a way that feels really real and honest to an almost uncomfortable degree. It’s almost too real. Also the authors of my youth, Ann M. Martin and Judy Blume, I wanted to write because of them.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

I am reading “Written in Blood” It’s a book looking into the death of Kathleen Peterson of Stairway fame. (I love true crime) Also, I’m actually reading The Magician King. My sister is reading the Magician’s books for the first time so I’m reading along with her so we can discuss. I also am keeping up on whatever comes up on AO3!

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Keep writing, whether it’s good or bad, just get it out and you can build on it later but it needs to be out there to fix.

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about over using in your work?

Oh man, I don’t know, I sometimes think everything I write is just a repeat of the last thing lol. Looked, people are always looking at each other and it’s hard to come up with different ways to express that.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

I wrote an American Girl fanfic. My best friend and I traveled back in time to 1774 and went on an adventure with Felicity! I still have it, in a notebook in a box in my closet. I have two boxes (not huge boxes or anything) of old diaries, journals and notebooks full of my writing. My parents didn’t want to throw that away growing up.

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? Self-edit

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? All of the above!

Smut, Fluff or Angst? angst!!

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? Slow burn, the slower the better

Favourite season? 3

Favourite episode? A life in the day

Favourite book(The Magicians books)? The Magician King

Three favourite words? Triskaidekaphobia, Loquacious, Fuck

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

#the magicians rec center #author spotlight #author: rays/under the shady tree

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ahtsumu · 4 years

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college student!miya atsumu hc dump

pairing: gn!reader ; genre: so much fluff, headcanons/mini drabbles ; tag(s): fluff, slightly suggestive, just the underclassman years for now, based on the american college system ; wc: 1.2k

imagine college student!miya atsumu majoring in creative writing while being the starting setter on the university's NCAA D1 volleyball team. he read milk and honey by rupi kaur once and ever since then he’s been madly in love with hitting the “enter” key after typing three words and calling it poetry. his ultimate goal, however, is to play for team USA at the olympics though!

imagine college freshman!miya atsumu

longboarding across campus on the first day of class with his airpods in (now playing: rap caviar on spotify), ray-bans on, snapback over his head, and nearly falling over when he passes you on the way to your 9 am. when you stop to make sure he’s okay, his entire face goes red before he stammers out an “i’m fine, thanks” and speeds off in embarrassment, kicking himself the whole time for not even getting your name because when will he ever see you again?? but when he’s settled down in freshman seminar and looks up at the whiteboard, he sees you walk in from the corner of his eye.

spending the whole night studying the lasting effects of imperialism through the lens of feminist theory after being paired up with you for a group project. he’s sweating buckets as he walks into starbucks because he just knows you think he’s an idiot (especially after your disastrous first encounter), only to be pleasantly surprised when the first thing you say to him is, “finally gave up on the longboard?” with a cheeky grin

texting his twin osamu “pls help how do i get someone to like me”, receiving “lmao is this a joke”, then replying with “stfu i don’t wanna hu i wanna cuff”, then being spammed with wikihow links and a few articles from GQ–– none of which he thinks helps, by the way!

running into you at the nearby 7-eleven at 2 am as he stands in front of the chips (it’s cheat day and he’s studying for a midterm, c’mon), deliberating between the purple and red taki’s like it’s a matter of life and death. when you say “fuego is better” from behind, he spins around with his hand on his heart, eyes wide in shock before he grins and replies with “i didn’t take ya for a basic…” but grabs the purple bag anyway

studying under a shady tree in the quad and getting bored after finishing a couple assignments, so he texts you to see if you’re free to go over some details of your project together (you are), only to end up not getting any work done because suddenly, you’re playing an impromptu game of 20 questions and wow. he can’t stop thinking about you.

sending you excerpts of your readings with funny comments, usually just roasting the author or narrator for his inability to understand the text. the first time you send one back he’s in the locker room after practice and he grins so wide that when his teammates grab his phone and see that all you’ve sent is a screenshot followed by “this mf’s writing about pouring concrete as if it's a RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE LMFAO someone come get their man!!”, they’re like, atsumu… you good? but no, he’s not–– he’s into you to the point it hurts not to have you

inviting you to one of his games after class with his heart pounding so fast that it almost feels like he’s playing the game right now, but then you take the ticket from his hand and grin, promising that you’ll be there as a representative from the official miya atsumu fan-club. he thinks that he might just die on the spot from happiness, but then you ask if you should come with a poster of his face and that’s when he really thinks he might just combust

looking nervously for you in the stands during warmups just to make sure you’re there and playing so hard after he spots you that he breaks his personal best for service aces in one game. he actually turns around at one point in the game to look you in the eye, winking as if to say “this one’s for you.” (you blush and hope he didn’t see it. he did!)

raising up one eyebrow in class when you meet his gaze and mouthing “wanna get out of here?” just to get you flustered, except when you mouth back “sure, my dorm?” with the same mischief in your eyes, a bright red blush blooms over his cheeks–– and he suddenly finds it very hard to focus, the only thing on his mind being you and him… in your dorm…

finally asking you out to the fall ball (this year’s theme: masquerade!), showing up at your door in a black three-piece suit and white mask and thinking that there’s no way he’ll be able to work up the courage to make his move once he sees you dressed like that, except he does when he walks you back at the end of the night, kissing you right in front of your door with his heart about to leap out from his throat

imagine college sophomore!miya atsumu

in plaid sweats, hair fluffy from sleep, leaning against the kitchen counter with a bowl of lucky charms in his hands, murmuring a “mornin’ babe” with a soft smile when he sees you walk in

pulling you onto his lap on his sofa as he reads to you a poem he has to analyse for class–– “[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]” by e.e. cummings–– and when you ask him if he’s finally moved on from his weird obsession with enjambment, he laughs out an “as if!” and pulls up a poem he’s just written on his notes app

leaning over the court-side barriers before games for his ritual “good luck kiss” because ever since you started coming to his games in freshman year he’s only set personal record after personal record (even breaking the school record for service aces at one point)... even though his teammates and coaches all make fun of him for it

making out with you on his desk after you walk into his room in one of his team hoodies–– the one with his jersey on it–– his calloused hands running up and down your waist as he kisses you fervently because god, he can’t hold himself back when he sees you in something that claims you as his, even if he has a paper on 18th century french poetry due in two hours

tapping your shoulder as you file out of your 8 am class with a goofy grin and your coffee order in hand after you rushed out the door a few minutes late that morning (thanks to him and his stupid wandering hands)

driving you around campus on an athletic department golf cart after class because of his student athlete special privileges, giving out high-fives and aggressively shouting “hey! have a great day!” to the students and faculty you pass (all while cementing your reputation as the cutest couple on campus)

begging you to stay another night at his off-campus apartment even though you have your own dorm room because he sleeps better knowing that yes, you’re still there beside him and you haven’t left like so many other people in his life

inviting his parents to the NCAA volleyball finals. the second they see you in his jersey in the front row they rush over and hug you, introducing themselves and saying that they've heard so much about you from their little ‘tsumu that they could recognise you from anywhere. and when atsumu strides on the court with the rest of the team and sees you giggling with his parents, he thinks that he really could just marry you right then and there

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu hcs #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu headcanons #miya atsumu scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! hcs #hq hcs #hq headcanons #hq!! hcs #lmk if there are any grammatical errors pls im literally so low on effort rn LOL

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empoleon · 3 years

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dragon’s den

• rated t, oneshot, 2096 words

• also available to read here

The look of utter disappointment on Leon’s face was surprisingly enjoyable to Raihan. It wasn’t often that the former Champion of the Galar region would be denied entry somewhere.

Although, this wasn’t just somewhere—the Dragon’s Den of the Johto region was well known across the world, even in Galar, and especially in Hammerlocke.

“What do you mean I’m denied entry?” Leon asked the older gentleman who was guarding the entrance.

Raihan was finding it extremely difficult to keep a straight face while the guard continued to shoot down Leon’s demands to be allowed inside.

“I’m sorry, but only authorized members of the clan are allowed inside,” he said in a stern tone, before glancing over at Raihan. “He is allowed to enter, however—our Master would like to meet Galar’s tamer of dragons.”

Leon had the gall to pout. “I was the Champion, though. I can’t get any… I don’t know, special exceptions?”

“I’m afraid not,” the man said. “Master’s orders.”

Raihan hooked an arm around Leon’s shoulder. “’s alright, Lee. I’ll bring you back a souvenir or something,” he said casually. “Rotom here’ll take good pictures too, right Rotom?”

Before the smart device could even trill a reply, the guard settled his steely gaze upon Raihan once more.

“No pictures are allowed to be taken inside,” he explained. “The secrets held within the Dragon Holy Land would like to remain as such.”

Both Leon and Raihan share a glance between each other.

“I’ll be let out of there alive, right?” Raihan asked the old man after a moment. Leon’s lips quirked up after hearing that.

Raihan gave Leon his phone before following the guard towards the entrance to the cave.

“Please use Rotom’s GPS if you decide to take a stroll outside of Blackthorn,” Raihan told Leon one last time before he started to walk away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon dismissed Raihan’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Have fun! I’ll stay away from the Ice Path… maybe check out Route 45 for a bit.”

“Alright,” Raihan nodded his head. He turned to look at the rugged opening before stepping inside.

It was a lot deeper on the inside than Raihan thought it was going to be.

The guard from earlier was standing near the edge of the lake inside the cave.

“The shrine is up ahead. You may proceed without me,” he said.

Raihan’s gaze focused on the small building within the distance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Poké Ball to toss into the air.

Flygon came out and immediately wanted to check out its surroundings, curious about this new place.

“C’mon then, Flygon,” Raihan held out a hand and his Pokémon hovered over towards him, bumping its snout against Raihan’s palm.

He climbed onto its back carefully and they took off, gliding across the lake that shimmered beneath them.

“Good to see you here, Raihan,” the Dragon Clan Master greeted him after Flygon landed.

“’Ello,” Raihan gave the old man a polite smile, internally sizing him up. Appearance wise, that was it—he looked like an ordinary older man, but Raihan knew better than to be fooled by his looks.

“Not surprised that I know your name?” the Master asked him. He motioned with a hand for Raihan to follow him into the shrine.

Raihan returned Flygon to its ball. “Well, I’m actually flattered you know my name, seeing as I’m one of the best—”

The old man’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Hammerlocke’s history is very rich, yes. We have been highly influenced by the training methods created there.”

He stopped at the shrine’s entrance and turned around to face Raihan.

“But that is not to say that Johto does not have an affluent past, either.”

He stepped to the side and allowed Raihan to enter. Surprisingly, he didn’t need to duck his head under the foyer—the shrine was quite spacious inside.

Other elders, Raihan presumed, were also inside, seated on mats.

“I would like to test you,” the Master turned and faced him. “Nothing severe or strenuous.”

Raihan blinked. “Sure. I only have Flygon here with me, though. ’Fraid I left the rest of my team with my partner.”

The Master chuckled. “No, no—not a battle. A test of your knowledge, and your character.”

“What are Pokémon to you?”

The Master’s voice echoed throughout the den and it took Raihan by surprise.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. How would Leon answer, he wondered. “Well, I would say that they are my friends. I cherish them and I’d do anything for them.”

“I see…” the Master nodded his head.

“What helps you to win battles?”

Raihan smiled. If it wasn’t too embarrassing to say aloud, he would certainly say that having a good rival can help.

“Strategies,” he said calmly. “I like to focus on different ways to battle.”

Another nod. So far so good.

“What kind of trainer do you wish to battle the most?”

For a somewhat small, damp cave, Raihan was fairly certain it was beginning to feel warm in here.

Obviously, his answer would be Leon. He can’t deny that.

(except that he should. now was not the time for fleeting thoughts about his significant other.)

“Eh, anyone, really,” Raihan rubbed the back of his neck. “I… I do have someone that I enjoy battling with a lot, but ultimately I’m interested in having Pokémon battles with anyone I meet.”

“What is most important for raising Pokémon?”

That was an easy one. “Love. Lots of love.”

The Master seemed pleased with his answer. “I have one more question for you.”

“Strong Pokémon. Weak Pokémon. Which is more important?”

What a peculiar question. Raihan wondered what Duraludon and Sandaconda were doing with Leon right now.

He raised his entire team from eggs—in a sense, they were weak at some point during his own journey, but…

“Both are equally important,” Raihan said after a moment. “Trainers should try to win with their favorites regardless of that.”

The Master stroked his beard. “I see… you care very deeply for Pokémon, Raihan. It’s quite commendable.”

“Thank you,” Raihan bowed his head.

When he looked back up, a Poké Ball was being held out for him to take.

“I would like you to have this as proof that I have recognized your skills as a dragon tamer,” the Master told him.

Raihan gingerly took the ball out of his hands and released what was inside. His jaw dropped.

“Alright, where is he?” Raihan held up a hand to block the sun while he scanned the area of Route 45.

After exiting the cave, he wanted nothing more than to spend a bit of time with Leon now before they had to leave Blackthorn.

He had neglected to tell Leon to also stay away from Dark Cave after hearing about how much of a nightmare it is to navigate, but he figured the former Champion wouldn’t have travelled too deep into this mountainous area to reach it.

Raihan carefully trudged through a snippet of long grass before spotting an all too familiar tan serpent slithering a few paces ahead.

“Oi, Sandaconda!” He called out for his Pokémon. The large serpent immediately froze and turned its head to look back at Raihan before starting to scurry towards him.

“I missed you too, fella,” Raihan smiled and knelt down to rub its neck pouch. “Where’s Lee gone off to?”

He followed the serpent’s gaze as Sandaconda turned back around and began to head over near a moderately shady area. There were a few Apricorn trees scattered throughout, and Leon was standing next to one of them.

“Let’s see…” he was staring up at the tree from what Raihan could tell—he could only make out Leon’s backside from where he stood.

“Hey, Leon!” Raihan may or may not have shouted his name extra loud, just so he could really hear him, even if he wasn’t that far away.

It was so worth it to watch the man jolt. A small bundle of Apricorns fell onto the ground and Leon quickly spun around to glare at Raihan.

“Not cool, mate. You’re making me drop precious cargo here,” he frowned.

It was a peculiar sight to behold—Leon had his t-shirt pulled out in an attempt to carry as many Apricorns as he possibly could.

“Uh, you want to define ‘precious cargo?’” Raihan walked over towards him. He took the opportunity to reach a hand out and poke at Leon’s exposed abdomen.

“Hey, quit it,” Leon squirmed at his touch. Raihan tried to tickle him the second time, and he laughed. “I mean it, I’m ticklish—Rai!”

Leon struggled to get away from him and almost tripped, but luckily Raihan was there to stop his fall and save the Apricorns he was carrying.

“Alright, alright,” Raihan carefully let go of his arm and glanced at the fruit in his shirt again. “Seriously though, are you tryin’ to become a Greedent or what?”

“No, I was thinking of using the Cram-o-matic back at the dojo once we leave,” he told him in a serious tone. “How’d things go at the Dragon’s Den?”

“Brilliant, actually,” Raihan grinned and reached a hand into his hoodie to pull out a Poké Ball. “I was even able to get you a souvenir!”

“No way,” Leon sounded skeptical. “I thought we weren’t allowed to bring any Pokémon back with us to Galar?”

“This one’s a special exception,” he said. “Come on now, are you going to take it or not?”

“Trade me,” Leon stepped closer and dumped the remaining bundle of Apricorns he had into Raihan’s hoodie—he wasn’t actually expecting Leon to do that, but he carefully held all of them regardless.

He took the Poké Ball and examined it closely. “Should I guess what’s in here?”

“I think you should let the little sweetheart out already,” Raihan told him. “You’re going to be pleasantly surprised, Lee. I promise.”

Leon tossed the ball into the air and, much to Raihan’s pleasure, he gasped.

“A Dratini? No way!” he stared in awe as the small dragon slithered towards him.

“Got her as a gift from the master himself. I passed a test of intelligence and—you aren’t even listening to me, are you?”

Leon was busy admiring Dratini, kneeling down with his hands outstretched for her to crawl into. He lifted her up and grinned.

“You are a beauty, aren’t you?” he cooed, before glancing up at Raihan. “Are you sure you want to give her to me?”

Raihan nodded his head. “Figured you might have been a little bummed about earlier, so…”

Leon was quick to stand back up and close the distance between him and Raihan.

“You’re the best, you know that?” He carefully wrapped one arm around Raihan’s neck, mindful of the Dratini in his other, who still seemed to be enjoying all the attention she’s getting, and pressed a kiss to Raihan’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Raihan wanted so badly to return the favor, but his arms were still full of those silly Apricorns. He settled for a kiss on Leon’s forehead instead.

“Anytime, love,” he smiled.

sometime later…

“Wait, wait—what do you mean I can’t bring these with me?”

The Magnet Train attendee stopped Leon from boarding the passenger car and pointed to his carry-on bag. “I’m sorry, Mr. Leon, but—”

“The Apricorns? Seriously?” his face was full of dismay.

Raihan poked his head out the train door to see what was holding him up and—

“Oh, for the love of Arceus this is absolutely—!”

Leon swore, quite loudly, at the exact same time the train whistle blew. Raihan was very grateful for that.

He was also grateful that the train attendee was so stunned by this small outburst that Raihan was able to grab Leon by his hand and quickly pull him on board.

“I warned you about this,” Raihan carefully shut the train door. “We should probably hide your bag, yeah?" he motioned for Leon to follow him. “You really gave that poor lass quite an earful, you know.”

“I spent a good hour picking all of these, they have no right trying to take them from me,” Leon was clutching his bag closely to his chest. He certainly wasn’t going to let anyone check it now, despite how blatantly obvious it was that something important was inside it.

Raihan shook his head and sighed. “Once again, I can’t believe I’m in love with a Greedent.”

This train ride was going to be a long one.

#pokemon #leon #raihan #truerivalshipping #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hello amigos today i give you this thing that has been half-finished for god knows how long #i'm serious i was talking about this fic on twt like... months ago i think LOL #i want raihan to go to johto so bad..... so very bad #but i finally worked out an ending so woohoo i'm posting it here too #i kinda feel a bit shy posting fics nowadays though..#i still want to work on the multichap one that's unfinished too but life has been ruff #so yeah anyway enough of me here hope ya enjoy this if you read it! thank you

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fauzhee10069 · 4 years

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JoJolion timeline LOG

I finally made this, the ultimate guide of JoJolion timeline which will be updated and revised frequently. Corrections are welcome.

Unknown Timeline (circa Meiji Era: 1868-1912)

The birth of Tooru, a rock-human.

1891

The Steels stored the Holy Corpse underground so that it will never be taken advantage by anyone, anymore.

Stephen Steel had also told Johnny about the Underground Shelter.

1901

Johnny Joestar took Holy Corpse that was stored underground to save his family, he was being pursued by American Government Agents to Japan.

November 11 evening: death of Johnny Joestar and creation of Les Feuilles.

November 12 morning: Johnny's corpse was found by the authorities.

November 13: Johnny's death and the discovery of a child were announced in Yashirokita News.

December 7: Yashirokita News reported that Johnny's death was considered an accident.

Theory:

Johnny’s infinite spin & his corpse caused the land in Higashikata property to have the equivalent exchange ability.

The Higashikata first born son is dressed as girl to trick the demon that causes the disease. It happens to Tsurugi, Tsurugi’s father (Jobin), Tsurugi’s grandpa (Norisuke IV), and Norisuke IV’s grandpa (Norisuke II). Is it possible that the curse of hereditary rock disease starts from Norisuke I’s children?

1911

Lucy Steel who worked under Speedwagon Foundation was investigating Morioh Hunting Ground in Japan because it was similar to the Devil’s Palm.

1938

Locacaca was discovered by Australians in New Guinea.

1941

Lucy Steel went to Morioh once again to investigate Morioh's hunting grounds near the orchard owned by the Higashikata Fruit Company, she was also researching Locacaca fruit. She met a boy named Fumi and both of them encountered the 「Radio Gaga」’s incident.

During Lucy and Joseph Joestar (Fumi)’s encounter with 「Radio Gaga」’s incident, Tooru was seen planting a Locacaca in a pot near Higashikata’s orchard.

1942

All reports of the Locacaca ceased after the Imperial Japanese Army invaded New Guinea in 1942 during the World War II.

1944

Lucy Steel passed away from a lung disease at the age of 68.

1952

Joseph Joestar (Fumi) met Suzi Q from the Speedwagon Foundation. They eventually married and their daughter, (Kira) Holy Joestar was born in 1959.

1963

In winter, Higashikata Norisuke IV contracted the family disease and his mother, Tomoko sacrificed herself using equivalent exchange on Higashikata’s land.

1991

Higashikata Caato sacrificed the bully boy to cure Jobin, using equivalent exchange and murdering the bully boy in the process. Jobin awakened his Stand, Speed King.

Kira Yoshiteru (Holy’s husband) died.

Kujo Josefumi was born in S. City.

1994

17 years ago, Mamezuku Rai’s father died in a landslide when he rushed out of the house to investigate harmful insects in the family’s orchard.

1996

Caato was sentenced for 15 years as prisoner 28 at the Stone Ocean prison. Norisuke IV divorced her while she was still in prison.

Unknown Timeline

Chapter 75: Mamezuku family’s cultivating techniques were leaked, leading to a competitor, which were connected with some local money-lenders, managing to steal an entire crop of pear and bringing down the fruit trees. Rai’s parents had to part with their orchards. Blaming his parents, Rai began to live alone in a ski slope, cultivating his own fruits despite the difficulties.

Chapter 100: Rai’s mother died long after the death of his father, she underwent great mental anguish brought on by the debts because of the pear orchard before dying of illness.

1997 (circa)

Rai (aged 17) met Norisuke IV when Norisuke IV came to buy his grown strawberries. Impressed by their quality, Norisuke IV appointed Rai in secret to be his personal fruit grower and appraiser. Rai's existence in the company was kept with the utmost secrecy, with not even Norisuke IV's family & his own heir, Jobin ever being informed.

Kira Holy Joestar saved Josefumi’s life in hospital (the timeline was ±1997 because Kira mentioned that they supposed to watch Titanic).

1997/1998

Higashikata Daiya (around 2-3 years old) fell into the faults and her vision deteriorated but she awakened her Stand, California King Bed.

1998

Holy began to work at T.H. Medical University Hospital.

2001

Hirose Yasuho met Tooru at the first time during her summer camp, Tooru was looking for someone to have his identity stolen and started impersonating as Akefu Satoru.

2002

Tsurugi Higashikata was born and Yasuho’s parents divorced.

2005

Yasuho bought a Qing Dynasty Hairclip, she got attacked by it as it turned out to be a rock animal.

Yasuho met Holy and Yoshikage in hospital, Holy also saved Yasuho’s life and Yoshikage destroyed the hairclip.

Theory:

Kira Yoshikage said that his mother (Holy) said something weird and for certain reason she is no longer a doctor, and Yasuho’s attending physician.

Is this an early sign of Holy’s illness and the arrival of The Head Doctor (and his gang)?

Or was the beginning that Holy builds a hidden lab and did research to Locacaca?

If it is the first case, it’s quite impressive that she managed to become a professor.

2008

Holy became a professor at T.G. University.

Summer, Sasame Ojiro encountered Kira Yoshikage.

Norisuke IV hired Yagiyama Yotsuyu as his architect to design Higashikata mansion and The Teahouse in front of the train station that sells fruit.

Higashikata Jobin had an argument with his father in the stadium regarding the business, he mentioned that the flow of people around the main shop in front of the train station has changed because those T-University people (who supposed to be doctors) put a mall at the west exit.

Still in the stadium, Jobin met Yotsuyu (who was still in the process of designing a mansion for Higashikata) and Damokan group.

Theory:

The cooperation between Damokan group and Higashikata (Jobin) in smuggling Locacaca & money-laundering might begin here.

Those T-University Doctors whom Jobin was talking about, could it be that they are the Head Doctor’s gang? Jobin said that the mall they built hindered their family business, perhaps the Head Doctor’s gang intentionally disrupted their business to lure Jobin into working with Damokan group?

2009

Kira Yoshikage worked as cargo ship doctor, he found a Rock Human (Aisho) aboard his ship.

Dainenjiyama Aisho disguised as rock from Port Moresby for use in an artificial garden, the client was the Higashikata.

Yoshikage investigated Aisho and found about their shady business, selling illegal imported fruits and teaming up with the Higashikata family. Kira decided to steal one of those fruits.

Iwakiri Atsunori was a batter for the Seiten Birdies, but he damaged his shoulder.

Higashikata mansion was still in the process of being renovated and was likely completed in the same year.

Unknown Timeline (around 2005?-2009)

Holy began to fall ill as the hospital gained a new number of doctors as well as a new Head Doctor.

Holy created the hidden lab and did scientific analysis on the Locacaca.

2010

Iwakiri, age 24, had a transaction with Aisho, then ate a Locacaca fruit while Yoshikage was spying on them.

Yoshikage and Josefumi stole 2 Locacaca branches to cure Holy.

2011

March, 6 months after Yoshikage and Josefumi stole 2 Locacaca branches, Japan (including Morioh) was heavily damaged by a tsunami. The Locacaca tree wilted and the Rock Humans noticed that 2 branches were stolen.

March 11, the night following the tsunami, Wall Eyes appeared in Morioh.

Sometimes after March 11, Nijimura Kei discovered the equivalent exchange on Higashikata’s land.

Friday, August 19, 10 months, 16 days, 3 hours and 24 minutes after they stole 2 Locacaca branches, Yoshikage and Josefumi were tracked down by Damo Tamaki and Yotsuyu.

3 days before JoJolion begins, deaths and fusion of Yoshikage and Josefumi. The creation of Josuke.

2011 (JoJolion main timeline begins)

Hirose Yasuho discovers Josuke's unconscious body.

Kira Yoshikage’s dead body is discovered and Josuke is adopted by the Higashikata family.

Higashikata Joshu awakens his Stand, Nut King Call in Shakedown Road.

Death of Yotsuyu. Higashikata Josuke and Norisuke IV learn of the rock-humans and Locacaca's existence.

Death of Aisho. Yasuho and Tsurugi learn about Jobin’s cooperation with Damokan group.

Death of A. Phex Brothers. Josuke learns about Josefumi through Sakunami Karera.

6 months after the tsunami that hit Morioh, Damo goes to the Higashikata's house. The same day, Damo is killed by Josuke.

2 weeks before Caato returns to the Higashikata house, Joshu gets attacked by Milagro Man.

Caato, age 52, finishes her 15 year-long incarceration in the Stone Ocean prison, after 3662 working days. She goes to Higashikata house and visits her family.

Defeat of Dolomité. Josuke and Yasuho learn Jobin’s true role within Damokan group and the hint of a greater organization.

Josuke and Yasuho meet Mamezuku Rai. Deaths of Urban Guerrilla and Doremifasolati Do. There is a greater rock humans organization than Damokan group that also hunts down the new Locacaca.

The Countdown of New Locacaca’s Harvest Begins:

12d4h33m: Jobin buries Ozon Baby.

12d2h11m: Josuke and Rai are in Higashikata’s underground.

12d2h2m: still in the Ozon Baby arc, Jobin and Tsurugi are in CCTV room.

The Higashikata family's orchard is burnt down by Tsurugi and Jobin.

Death of Poor Tom.

10d19h6m: Higashikata Mitsuba and Yasuho are in T.G. University Hospital.

Mitsuba learns about the equivalent exchange and Locacaca.

Yasuho meets her ex-boyfriend, Tooru.

Yasuho and Mitsuba discover a hidden lab & stash of Locacaca plants within the hospital, which are destroyed by Rai.

Death of Tomoki Wu.

7d1h2m: Mitsuba arrives in front of Tsurugi's school to take him back to their home after a school trip to the Omoshiroyama-Yamadera trail.

7d0h44m: Mina (the girl who bullied Tsurugi) is having apparently been crushed between the iron gates of the school. As the leader asks if anyone saw what happened, the girl that alerts her claims that she saw Tsurugi pushed the gates closed.

6d4h12m: Josuke, Yasuho, and Rai pursue the head of the Locacaca Organization, Akefu Satoru, but are unable to capture him or see his face. A bystander is accidentally killed during the pursuit, leading to a police manhunt for Josuke and Rai.

6d3h25m: A parent meeting regarding the incident at Tsurugi’s school.

Mitsuba sees The Head Doctor on CCTV record.

Mitsuba and Jobin have a pillow talk.

5d1h5m: Ojiro and his girlfriend, Kitani Maako (Makorin) are talking about Higashikata’s land and fortune.

Unknown timeline (prior to the fight with Ojiro): Caato goes to Higashikata house and meets Jobin, Jobin tells her about the New Locacaca and orchard burning.

3d1h19m: 3 days before the harvest, Ojiro locates the New Locacaca hidden inside the Higashikata estate and sends proof of its existence to Makorin. However, both of them are eliminated by Jobin.

2d0h0m: Josuke & Rai discover that Akefu Satoru will be attending a lecture the next day. They are attacked by Satoru's Stand and are pursued by the police, with Josuke being injured gravely enough to be sent to T.G. University Hospital as Rai is taken into police custody.

Yasuho discovers the true face of Satoru Akefu.

Tsurugi begins to succumb from the effects of the Rock Disease.

1d?h?m/30h: Satoru's lecture takes place at T.G. University Hospital, starts at 11:00 am, introducing Locacaca 6251.

Josuke awakens in the hospital and is attacked yet again by Satoru's Stand. He meets Holy and she helps him recover with Locacaca 6251.

0d3h24m: Yasuho goes to Higashikata mansion and sneaks in Tsurugi’s room. She gets caught by Jobin and Paisley Park gets flushed in the toilet.

Norisuke IV finds out about the murder that Jobin committed to Ojiro. He gets attacked by Speed King and unconscious.

0d2h11m: Yasuho and Jobin are gravely wounded, Satoru gets pursued by a reporter while Josuke just sits back, waiting for Satoru menacingly. Meanwhile, Tooru is just vibing while listening to Elvis Presley.

Josuke & Rai fights Dododo De Dadada.

Rai is dying by Wonder of U’s calamity.

The death of Jobin and Rai.

Yasuho eats the new Locacaca, discovers Tooru as the source of calamity and calls Kei.

Joshu fails his redemption.

The death of Kei.

Caato does an equivalent exchange with Tooru and dying Tsurugi while also destroying the remaining New Locacaca plant.

The death of Caato and Tooru.

0d0h13m: Norisuke IV is gravely wounded and his body is dragged by Tsurugi.

Locacaca was gone forever in Japan.

Holy's fate is left hanging (she's still in a coma in the hospital).

Norisuke IV is discharged from the hospital.

Josuke is officially accepted as Higashikata’s family member and Yasuho walks out the door.

FIN

#jojolion spoilers #timeline #jjba part 8 #jojo's bizarre adventure #yeah i'm finally so done with this #jojolion theory #jojolion

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backroadtales · 4 years

Text

NEW TALE : “EXERCISE”

Elizabeth is walking along the sidewalk, dressed in her casual sweats and running shoes while shielding her eyes with a pair of dark sport sunglasses. She looks both ways and crosses the street. When she gets across to the other side of the street, she makes her way towards a steep stone staircase that leads off the sidewalk and down into a park. The staircase can barely be seen from the street, as trees and bushes have grown heavily in and around it’s entrance. Although the sun shines bright on this day, Elizabeth descends into darkness as she hits the first step and proceeds down the shady narrow stairway. As she eludes the sun under the cover of tall maple and elm trees, her headphones begin to blare a song by her favourite band. With the energy of the song boosting Elizabeth’s heart rate, she enters the park happy and excited. She’s going to enjoy a beautiful sunny day by the river listening to her favourite music, and she even has one half of a marijuana cigarette to enjoy. As she walks along a gravel pathway, she remembers when she first saw her favourite band perform live. Visions of the performance fill her mind as she walks along the river, passing by the odd person while admiring the scenic landscape. Elizabeth remembers her favourite band sounded just as intense live as the on the recorded tracks she frequently downloaded. The singer of the band was so aggressive and passionate in his performance; visions of the singer blasting lyrics into his cordless microphone stick in Elizabeth’s memory. She is enjoying her time walking along the river, which at this point looks to be very shallow, with the many rocks sticking up out of the water acting as rest stops for flocks of seagulls. Ducks and geese also inhabit the river a bit farther downstream. The large park opposite the river is filled with people resting in the open spaces between the large oak trees that seem to be hundreds of years old. While she watches the sun’s rays glisten off the water, Elizabeth enjoys the adrenaline rush her favourite songs gives her. The memory of the singer, who screamed with such passion and fury, is a memory that appears frequently whenever she thinks about this band, or listens to their music. How could this person sing like that night after night, she wonders. She remembers seeing interviews on the internet of this band. When the singer spoke during the interview, he didn’t seem like an angry or dangerous person; he seemed humble and confident, Elizabeth remembers. She ponders about why the singer chose the career path he did. She thinks he may just really enjoy singing in a band; maybe he just got really good, and never quit moving forward with it. She notices how singing seems to be such a positive outlet for this performer in particular; what a great way to filter out all that inner rage, Elizabeth thinks as she continues on with her walk. She finds it to be a good thing, that at least he isn’t exercising all of that inner turmoil with violence.

Hatim is standing outside of a large government building. The buildings entrance consists of tall pillars, and the entire structure itself is made completely out of white-coloured limestone blocks. Though the building is made only of limestone, the dedication and detail put into it’s architecture is sharp and elegant. The city Hatim works and lives in, the one he is currently standing in, sits almost directly in the middle of one of the hottest and most remote deserts on the continent. Although the citizens of this city do not have the access to the resources or technology that most of the other parts of the world have, they pride themselves on being a very social and passionate people. Hatim has to enjoy his cigarette quickly as he notices a group of young men laughing and chatting underneath the shade of a palm tree, which was planted specifically to accompany the front of the government facility. He knows from the way the men are nicely dressed, with their hair gelled and the large envelopes at their sides, that they are gathered here to register for the armed forces; which whom Hatim has served with for 11 years now. Hatim, like all men and woman who grow up in this country, has no choice but to enter service once he has completed secondary school. A full career is not mandatory, but it is encouraged, as soldiers are allowed to leave service once they have completed either five full years, or they become pregnant or permanently injured. Hatim doesn’t love what he does; he loves his daughter and son; he loves his wife. He does not love the service, but he earns well for his family, and he likes to think he is good at what he does. He is not a vengeful person, and finds no joy in killing others, but he is proud that he has the confidence and the knowledge to defend his family if necessary. Hatim gets sick of the rowdiness of the young men under the tree, and tosses the rest of his hand-rolled tobacco cigarette into the dirt. It is time for him to get back to his desk to attend to more new applicant paperwork. He is, after all, the first and final guidance counselor these young men and woman have access to before they are shipped across the desert for basic training.

Hatim, now sitting at his desk, takes the last sip left in his coffee mug, and organizes the young man’s folder he is about to meet. The individuals record tells the story of a person who does not respond well to authority. This young man, named Leith, has been suspended multiple times for skipping class, as well as for getting caught fighting by the police. Leith’s grades also are not impressive, although his scores in art and history are near the top of his graduating class. Hatim ponders for a second about Leith; he seems to be trouble, but there is no doubt he shows signs of being creative and intellectual. Once Hatim welcomes Leith into his office and the two begin to talk, he realizes Leith is not as bad as his record makes him out to be. He converses with Leith quite well, in fact, and Leith seems to have a productive and positive attitude. Hatim’s confidence in him grows stronger the more they interact. Leith starts to discuss his personal life more with Hatim. He knows, like everybody else, that he has no choice but to go into the service, but he makes a point to Hatim that he really enjoys music. Hatim also enjoys music, and their country is known around the world for producing respected and accomplished performers. Leith starts to tell Hatim about how he likes new music. He especially likes new music from the other continent, and he dreams of one day finishing his requirements with the service and moving to the other continent to try to become a performer. Once Hatim’s brain processes what Leith has just said, it is like Hatim’s confidence in Leith drops to the floor like a flower vase crashing on concrete. Hatim knows the type of new age music Leith is talking about. Over-privileged other continent young adults screaming into microphones with horribly distorted instruments in the background, Hatim reminds himself. Hatim despises this kind of music; not just because of they way it sounds to him, but what it represents to him. In his mind, this kind of music represents the over-indulgence and lack of appreciation young people from the other continent suffer from. This kind of music shows a lack of maturity, as well as a lack of respect not only for society, but for life itself. Hatim now has a bad taste in his mouth. He lets Leith ramble on as he stares down at his paperwork. He knows he has invited Leith to speak openly, and he still has some faith left in the soon-to-be soldier, so he chooses not to stop the conversation dead in its tracks. Hatim forces a smile, nods his head, and assures himself that being in the service for a few months would straighten Leith right out. Leith is going to be Ok, and wouldn’t fall into the seductive negativity young people from the other continent indulge in so much, Hatim ponders. The service is what Leith and other citizens like him need, and it is necessary in order for them to survive in life, Hatim thinks. As Leith starts to finish up his opinions regarding the music industry, Hatim takes control of the conversation, moving it back to the subjects he needs to cover for Leith’s basic training. The meeting ends, and Hatim wishes Leith good luck as they shake hands and part ways. After Leith exists the office, Hatim thinks to himself as he watches the young man hurry passed other waiting applicants and out the door of the building. He can’t figure out why someone, who seemingly has a lot of potential, would want to get involved with the music scene over on the other continent. Hatim assumes Leith must have a lot of hostility built up inside of him. Serving a few years across the desert would help with that, Hatim assures himself. There is more tobacco in his desk drawer, he remembers. Time for another cigarette.

Leith rests his ass on a large rock that sticks up from the desert sand just outside the perimeter of the shooting range he is training at. He takes a strong drag off his cigarette and thinks about the meeting he had with Hatim right before his tenure with the service began. He remembers how he opened up to Hatim and expressed his passion for music. Leith didn’t get much of a response from Hatim and he didn’t need one; he could tell by Hatim’s body language that he was not impressed. Leith takes another strong drag from his hand-rolled smoke. He has just entered his fourth month of basic training, and he finds he not only dislikes the service, but also that it is making him feel miserable. He doesn’t get any sleep at night in the barracks, which is paradise compared to the trenches he could be sleeping in during wartime. He has been separated from his friends, and he can only speak to his family through written letter. Leith does not have a passion for warfare like some of his peers; he misses listening to his favourite music and strumming his guitar. The new recruits are constantly being tested mentally and physically, and although he knows he has to be ready when conflict arrives, he is starting to lose his ability to focus. Above everything else, what bothers Leith the most is his emotional state. He feels completely lost, and he is literally just doing what he is told; going through the motions, eating a bit, trying to get some sleep, smoking, and then back to the routine. He knows what he wants, and the service is not it. He wants to explore his creative side and work with like-minded individuals. He wants to be a musician and move to the other continent. He wants to go there and play the same genre of music he grew up enjoying. Leith suffers with these thoughts daily, and as he puts out the last of his cigarette on the rock where his ass rests, he musters all the energy he can to report back to his squad. The sun is starting to disappear into the horizon, and soon it will be time to head to the barracks for the night. Leith wishes he could run home for his mom’s cooking. He wishes he could run home period. He knows what will happen. He will not only go to jail, but he will tarnish his families reputation. It is even possible he might be beaten and outcast from his community. What would he do then? Where would he go? Leith looks off into the distance as he walks his boots in and out of the sand. The other continent is where I would go, Leith thinks to himself. He ponders more about the idea. All the emotions inside of him start to flare up. His chest begins to fill with adrenaline. A tingling excitement rushes through his body. He thinks about how he would get to the other continent from this area in the desert. He ponders where he would stay and how he would contact his family once he got to the other continent. He devises an escape plan to the other continent, because escaping is exactly what he is going to do. Leith hangs his rifle on his right shoulder, and smiles as he looks across the endless landscape. He feels exhilaration as he commits to the idea, but he knows that excitement will soon be replaced by fear.

Leith has not gotten a wink of sleep. He stares at the alarm clock which sits on the floor beside him. In bright red, the numbers read 2:45. The time is 2:45 am; 3:15 am is the time Leith plans to put on his clothes, tie his shoes, and then check to make sure he has his tobacco, lighter, cell phone, and wallet. 3:15 am is the time he plans to escape. He also has to make sure that he has his passport, along with his credit card. He double and triple checked that he had everything before the barrack lights went out that evening. He knows he needs to be quick, but casual at the same time. It is very likely that at this moment another soldier is still awake from lack of sleep, so Leith needs to make it look like he is exiting the barracks to have an early morning cigarette. He knows he can’t take all of his belongings, as it will look like he is trying to escape. He needs to leave as if he will be coming right back. Leith continues to watch his alarm clock. The anticipation continues to rise, as the half hour in which he waits feels like a lifetime. He’s sweating and shivering all at once, fearful of all the possibilities in terms of what can happen if he is caught. He could be chased through the desert; he could be shot by a sniper; he could even get caught while trying to board a plane at the airport. He knows that if he can slip undetected around the side of the barracks, he can make it past the guards manning the gate. New guards arrive to replace the current guards near the end of their shift, which this morning happens to be at 3:30 am. Leith figures he should be able to get around the side of the building by 3:17 am, and if he can wait and not be seen, the new guards should begin to arrive around 3:20 am, which will distract the current guards. While the guards begin procedures to replace each other, Leith has an opportunity to run to the far west side of the camp, get to the barbed-wire fence, and crawl underneath at an area where the soft dirt makes this viable. After he gets outside of the camps perimeter, he will travel alongside a recently closed service road which leads back into the city. Getting to the airport once he enters the city wont be hard, and from there he can arrange himself to be presentable for boarding. All he has to do now is stick to the darkness, and when it is time, run as fast as possible for that fence. Leith now watches as the red number turns from three to four. The time on the clock now reads 3:14 am. He braces himself for the intense experience he is about to endure. He has to be casual, but he has to be fast. One more minute, he thinks to himself as sweat drizzles down his head and onto the sand below. One more minute and I’m free, Leith reminds himself. He looks down at the desert floor, looking at where his last drip of forehead sweat landed; it has created a small dark crater in the sand, and he stares at the small indent, feeling almost like he is lost in a trance. Leith looks back at his clock; the clock reads 3:15 am. He removes the bed sheet covering his body, takes a deep breath, and sits up straight like he never has before. It is time for him to go, and he proceeds to leave the barracks for the last time.

Leith crouches in the dark along the outside of the building that is the barracks. He looks around the corner towards the guart post and see’s four guards. They are socializing and not paying attention to the west side of the lot, which is where Leith has to run through in order to get to the perimeter fence. He managed to get dressed and out of the barracks without incident, and he made sure to pull his cigarettes out of his pocket as he exited the building, just in case anyone curious was watching. He is now waiting in the shadows the tall walls of the barracks have created, analyzing the guards for any unusual behaviour. He doesn’t bother reaching for his cell phone to check the time. The four guards are distracting each other, and it is now his chance to make a move. Leith wishes for God to watch over him, and he takes off running as if someone is trying to kill him. He is running so fast that he worries his feet are making too much noise. The adrenaline rush makes Leith feel as though he is stuck in time, as he races towards the barbed-wire fence. He starts to duck his head as he gets closer to the perimeter. As he gets a few feet from the fence, he drops down on his stomach and crawls the rest of the way. He’s moving quickly, but manages to glance over at the guards, who are still standing around and talking. They have not detected him, and now he is that much closer to escaping. Leith uses both hands to dig rapidly into the dirt, which as he suspected, is light and dry, giving him the ability to clear a big enough hole to fit underneath the fence, before any of the four guards can suspect anything. He digs down far enough into the dirt that there is now a small gap he can fit through, and as he crawls under the fence, he rolls over onto his side and uses his feet to push himself off the fence, and up onto the sand. Leith lays still and watches the entrance gate. He knows he is free, as it is pitch black all around except for one small light sitting atop the gate’s guard house. He turns off his side and onto his back, looking up at the sky. Huge bright stars glisten up above, and all that can be seen in the distance are the far away lights of the city. Leith jumps to his feet and begins running. He runs all the way to the city.

Elizabeth is trying very hard to hear what her friend is saying. It is a Friday night, and her and her friend are downtown at a music venue which is packed with passionate people. The atmosphere is intense, and anticipation fills the air as patrons wait for the first act to take stage. There is no personal space left in the venue as Elizabeth and her friend rest their elbows on a small strip of the bar. She can barely hear what her friend is trying to say; she thinks her friend is describing who the first act is, but she only catches a few words. Just as Elizabeth finishes her rum and coke, she hears people all around her start to cheer. A man has walked onto the brightly lit stage, which sits about four feet above the sticky black floor. Another man enters onto the stage; and then another. Everyone in the room is now cheering loudly, as every instrument on the stage seems to be accompanied by a band member; except the microphone. Suddenly all the lights in the venue go out. Only the red letters from the exit signs can be seen in the dark. Everyone in the crowd is cheering loudly and starting to occupy the front of the stage. A guitar begins a slow riff, almost mimicking the sound off a strong wind hitting against chimes. A slow but intense drum beat infiltrates the minds of the spectators and begins to engage the tension in the air. Another guitar enters in with loud but compact strumming, muting the strings the best he can in an attempt to limit the high distortion coming from the amplifiers. White, blue, and purple lights begins to flicker down onto the performers through the darkness. The band members can seen playing their instruments every time the lights bounce off the stage. Elizabeth and her friend turn to each other, neither having to say a word. Her friend quickly finishes the rest of her beer, and they proceed through the crowd to the front of the stage. A real effort is needed in order for them to push through this fully loaded crowd, but within a minute they have planted themselves on the east side of the stage. Elizabeth and her friend add to the audiences loud cheers, as stronger lighting begins to brighten up the stage. Elizabeth is looking westward at the bass player hammering on his instrument, when suddenly she gets the feeling someone is standing right above her. She looks over and see’s a pair of what look like military-style work boots. These boots are attached to someone standing up on the stage. Elizabeth looks up, and is met with the singers wide eyes and large smile. The singer looks over into the crowd, grips the microphone, and beings to yell. Elizabeth is in awe, but what she and the other cheering spectators don’t know, is that the singer is a man from the other continent. The singer is a man named Leith.

#newtale #exercise #backroadtales

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icechuksblog · 5 years

Quote

Every month, the federal government spends about N15 billion as stipends on 500,000 volunteers of the N-Power scheme, a component of the National Social Investment Programmes (N-SIP). Dubbed as the largest post-tertiary employment programme in Africa, the Muhammadu Buhari government sees the scheme as one of its major achievements. Although some critics have said the programme is non-existent, this investigation that covered a year revealed that it is real and beneficiaries do not need high-wire connections. Headquartered under the office of Vice-President Yemi Osinbajo, N-Teach is the most popular of the N-SIP, which also focuses on health, agriculture and public finance. Due to the deficiency in the number of teaching staff in public schools, many “unemployed graduates” were deployed to schools in order to complement the efforts of the staff on ground. But after conniving with corrupt officials, some of these volunteers abscond from their duty post. They receive monthly stipends with which they bribe school authorities and milk the federal government in billions of naira. Taiwo Adebulu went undercover to get first-hand details. In 2016 when the programme began, 200,000 beneficiaries were selected and deployed to their primary place of assignment (PPA) out of about 700,000 Nigerian graduates who reportedly applied. However, several allegations arose from the exercise, ranging from absenteeism of the volunteers from PPAs, impersonation and fraudulent practices by officials handling the programme. With the announcement of the 2017 batch, I proceeded to the N-POWER web portal and registered for the programme. I selected Ondo state, did an online assessment test on my mobile phone and participated in the screening process which took place in Akure, the state capital. Aside the lack of monitoring for the open test which was prone to malpractice by applicants and the constant tipping of officials by beneficiaries to get screened on time due to the huge population, the screening process was largely transparent and efficient. But despite several efforts by the administrators to sanitise the exercise and retain only volunteers who are genuinely unemployed, inside workings still revealed large-scale fraud involving the programme officials, school officials and beneficiaries who get paid regularly without reporting for work. BENEFICIARIES PAYING N8000 TO BE REDEPLOYED Letter of redeployment On June 17, 2018, I received a message from N-POWER congratulating me for being among the 300,000 new beneficiaries, selected out of 2.5 million applicants, for the second batch engaged till 2020. With the identification number NPVN/2017/125765, I was posted to Ikare-Akoko, the headquarters of Akoko north-east local government area. At the National Orientation Agency (NOA) office at the federal secretariat in Akure, where the programme is coordinated, open-secret deals are being hatched. I met a group of beneficiaries who had complained of being posted to different local governments from the ones they chose. They were discussing about one Pascal, a government official working as an agent for the N-POWER officials. Pascal could “process” a change of local government. His phone number was shared among the group and I engaged the agent, who said I should pay N8000 being the usual charge for the “deal”. After the amount was paid to his account, he set off to process the deal. While some deals pulled through, mine and a few others didn’t. While Pascal assured me that he was going to keep working on the deal, I received my deployment letter signed by one Olubunmi Ademosu, the state focal person. I was posted to Ansar Ud Deen Primary (AUD) School IV, Ekan, and instructed to resume on or before Friday, August 10, 2018. NOA OFFICIALS CO-ORDINATE THE FRAUD At the NOA office, I met with the young officials who where handling the physical verification and assessment. After explaining to them that I had a stable job but wanted to strike a deal to “ghost” the exercise, one of them asked if I was ready to pay the sacrifice and let go with part of my stipend. I told him I was ready to let go. “But to be sincere with you, things have changed from the way it used to be with the way the programme is being seriously monitored now,” an official said. “During the 2016 set, there was little or no monitoring. So, it was easy for us to strike good deals with beneficiaries from here and they won’t show face at their station at all. Now, the beneficiaries must involve his or her PPA before things can work out because if we are able to handle our monitoring team, what about the ones who come from Abuja without notifying us? Go to your PPA and strike a good deal with the school officials who can easily protect you; then, come back here. In as much as our own men are aware of the arrangement, there won’t be any problem when they visit your school.” THE 50-50 SHADY DEAL Pupils of AUD climbing a tree to cross the stream to their school The easiest road to AUD primary school was through a flowing stream, where I had to climb a tree with some other pupils to cross a small stream and get to the school. With four buildings, two totally condemned ones and the other two in use, the school has a population of about 200 students and six staff in all. Four N-POWER teachers in the 2017 batch were posted there. One of the senior teachers popular called “Mr. Ray” had asked why I resumed late. I told him that I had a permanent job which I was fully engaged in another town and couldn’t cope with the stress of combining it with teaching at the school. Then, he offered a way out if only I was going to “co-operate” and sacrifice part of my monthly stipend as it is done by my colleagues in other schools. Mr. Ray “There is a way we can do it for you to beat the system and nobody would detect. I will help you find someone who can impersonate you. You don’t have to come here. The person resumes, bears your name, appears when supervisors come and you pay the two of us. You have to divide your stipend into two, half for us and the remaining one for you. You need to co-operate because that is how your colleagues in other schools are doing it. In as much we have a good deal with you, you have no problem wherever you are,” he said. For the next 15 minutes, Mr. Ray and I haggled over the sharing formula for my N30,000 stipend. At last, I succumbed and we agreed to a 50-50 deal. He takes N15,000, out of which he removes his share and pays the impersonator who would stand in for me in case there is need for my physical presence while I manage the rest. When asked if there’s any possibility that the deal might go wrong at any point, Mr. Ray assured me that he’s going to carry other staff along and also work with officials of the State Universal Basic Education Board (SUBEB) who come around occasionally to check on the volunteers. “Even with the fact that you are a man, the person that will represent you will be a woman. They can’t know because they do not come with your bio-data and passport, even the ones who come from Abuja sometimes. Any gender could bear your name. You don’t worry; the SUBEB people are my friends. They are aware of such deals and they also have their own candidates. We know how to settle them,” he concluded. The reporter given NPOWER attendance list to fill for the days absent from work Thereafter, he gave me the attendance register where I wrote my name from the days I was absent to that very day. He assured me that my impersonator would register my name in subsequent days. In just three days after I left the town, Ray had found a replacement for me –- a woman indeed. She resumed duty. He reassured me that I didn’t have to come back again as long as I fulfill my side of the bargain. Then he jokingly sounded a note of warning. “Don’t forget that I will always know when your stipend is paid. So, don’t play pranks with me.” ‘WE NEED TO LEGALISE THE CONTRACT AND BE SURE YOU ARE REAL’ “In fact, the person who signed for you (former headmaster) said there should be a written document that you will sign to show that you are going to pay. But Mr. Ray said you will not disappoint. “Sincerely, I don’t want part of your money. Just make sure you don’t default in your payment to him every month so that he can also settle the person representing you. Then, we won’t have any problem.” In a chat with the impostor, she said some officials from the state and N-POWER visited the school twice but did not pose any problem as far as someone was available to bear the name and Ray had also done the needful. FREE MONEY FOR THE BOYS "Alert is raining now" On November 30, after four months in which the programme began, beneficiaries started receiving bank alerts for their stipends. In a Facebook group for the beneficiaries, one of the members posted, “Alert is raining now. I received mine…EcoBank”. In the comment section, others trooped to testify that the alert is really “raining” and it keeps pouring. One said, “May this rain not stop, let it keep raining. This is showers of blessing.” At this point, it had not “rained” at my location several miles away from my PPA. An hour later, I received alerts on my phone. It trickled in one after the other. They were stipends for three months and amounted to N90,000. The next day, I received a call from Ray to ascertain if the “rain” also poured at my location. I answered in the affirmative. Screen shot of successful transfer of 30K to Ray “Should I send my account number? This is free money for the boys,” he said immediately and chuckled. The next day, I sent him N30,000 to pay for two months of the contract. A week after, the impostor called me to complain that Ray had refused to fulfill his side of the contract. After so much persuasion, the senior teacher paid the impostor for one month and kept the remaining fund to himself. BILLIONS OF NAIRA GOING DOWN THE DRAIN N-POWER beneficiaries at a rally in Akure In 2016, the government had reportedly budgeted N500 billion for the N-SIP. However, as of May 16, only about N41 billion had been expended on the four programmes with the N-Power gulping N26 billion. According to Osinbajo, the N-Power scheme would provide jobs for at least 10 million Nigerians by 2023 — yet more money will go down the drain to volunteers who are not present at work, possibly because they have other jobs, but have found their way to beat the system in a way that fetch them “side money”. In 2017, while addressing 5,559 volunteers in Kwara state, Afolabi Imoukhuede, senior special sssistant (SSA) to the president on job creation and youth employment, reportedly said about 60 volunteers on the programme are on payment hold and may be prosecuted for fraud. He added that 363 volunteers in Kwara were ghosts and did not exist in the programme, while those found guilty of absenteeism would be forced to return all stipends received and prosecuted. Even with the warnings, findings showed that there is no solid structure in place to weed the ghost volunteers out of the system as they continue to milk the federal government billions of naira monthly. N-POWER REACTS Imokhuede with Osinbajo In an interview with TheCable, Imokhuede said he was aware of the cases of absenteeism in the programme but there was no way they could run a perfect system. He, however, denied that there is fraud in the system. “That’s not true. That does not exist in NPOWER programme. We do know that there is no perfect system. But I do expect a minimal number of Judas out of every congregation of 12. There’s nothing you’ve written that I am not aware of,” Imokhuede said. “When we took the programme online, there were chances that those who deserve it and those who do not will come into the programme. That was why we introduced the physical verification process, which was a process they all had to go through before being engaged formally into the programme. The process helps check that there are no ghosts. Everyone was verified to be an individual, qualified, and has a BVN. “Our state focal persons are mandated to provide us monthly reports of attendance, discipline and compliance by the volunteers. When people engage in absenteeism, they go on payment hold immediately. There is a control mechanism. Yes, you can be deployed and choose not to go to work every day if you want to dictate your own time. That is not our terms and conditions. It’s a full-time volunteering programme. “What your investigative journalism will help us in doing is to name and shame as we often do on all our platforms when we receive the reports. For the second batch, we had 1.8 million qualified applications after we removed double-counts and incomplete applications from the 2.5 million we received and we selected 300,000. Like I do tell them, for everyone, there are other qualified Nigerians that can replace them. “The volunteers have a whistle blower programme where they report themselves, especially those who don’t go to work. We have NPOWER in the states and local governments who have formed a monitoring team and they report absenteeism. We have independent monitors in every local government who also give us reports every month. Then, if some volunteers are really smart to beat all the systems, I can assure you that they can beat the system today, but they can beat it tomorrow.” Government needs to do more to plug the loopholes in the project which has no doubt put smiles on many faces. Culled: TheCable

http://icechuks2.blogspot.com/2019/01/undercover-investigation-bribery.html

#http://icechuks2.blogspot.com/2019/01/undercover-investigation-bribery.html UNDERCOVER INVESTIGATION

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tendercarelawnservice · 7 years

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The flowering dogwood presented by our landscape maintenance services team

If you’re looking to create a serene and ethereal scene in your garden, look no further. Our landscape maintenance services team is happy to recommend just the tree for you – the flowering dogwood.

Our lawn maintenance services team shares their experience on the flowering dogwood

The flowering dogwood is a sturdy tree with beautiful blooms that make an appearance starting in spring and continue through summer. The blooms are usually white although there are red, pink, and blend varieties as well. The varieties of flowering dogwood include Blue Ray Kousa dogwood, Celestial Shadow dogwood, Cherokee Brave dogwood, Cherokee Chief dogwood, Cloud 9 dogwood, pink flowering dogwood, red flowering dogwood, and Kousa dogwood.

The flowers have a diameter of about 3-4 inches and bloom in April, generally ahead of the leaf display. Not to be outdone, most varieties have leaves that change color in the fall or have interesting leaf patterns, that ensure the beauty of the tree during fall as well. The flowers give way to berries that attract birds during the winter, making this a wonderful tree year-round.

Select your planting site to suit your needs and view while also considering your variety’s needs for sun and soil to enable the tree to grow to its full potential. Although you can grow dogwood from seed, to take advantage of the blooms sooner, it’s best to opt for a potted tree. Our landscape maintenance services team can transplant trees to ensure that the root ball is handled carefully and transplanted properly. They will also share aftercare instructions with you so you can give your tree the attention it needs while it adapts to its new home.

The blooms will convince you to become more of an outdoors person and spend many an hour under the tree enjoying a book, a picnic, or just the view. Expect to wow everyone with this elegant choice of trees.

Our landscape maintenance services team gives some tips about planning your garden

It’s best to ascertain your gardening goals before going to a nursery and randomly selecting trees. Most of our clients want a yard that is inviting and appealing throughout the year. In cases such as these, our lawn maintenance services team discusses tree options and elaborates on each tree’s blooms, fragrances, benefits, care requirements, and seasons.

It’s also important to select trees based on your yard size, soil and drainage, and placement plans. If your yard is smaller, you may need to alter your tree selection. Alternately, certain trees that may have potentially invasive roots should be placed at a distance from structures to avoid damage to the tree or property.

Trees provide tremendous benefits to a garden. With this addition to your yard, you have erosion control, a shady spot to read a book, an attraction for the birds, and mostly a beautiful sight to behold.

Author: Tender Care Lawn Service

Author Bio: Tender Care Lawn Service is one of the fastest growing landscaping companies in southwest Louisiana that provides grass cutting, landscape maintenance, and other lawn care services across the country.

Address: 2315 Gaylynn Dr, Sulphur, LA 70665, USA

#Grass Cutting Services #Landscape Maintenance Services #Lawn Service Companies #Lawn Maintenance Services #Lawn Care Services

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edc-creations-blog · 7 years

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Red September, is a contemporary, fiction, romance novel. It’s a coming-of-age narrative that tells the story of Constance (Connie) Brown. Set amidst the poverty of the 1950’s on an island in the Caribbean. After their father dies, Connie and her siblings live in fear of their alcoholic and abusive mother. Connie life changes when Nathaniel (Nathan) Hart, a charismatic twenty-one-year-old man arrives from New York City on family business. When they meet it is love at first sight for both.

However, Connie is forced to marry Mr. Henry, a wealthy landowner, for financial gain. He moves her into his home on the hill overlooking the town. Though this may seem like a fairy tale ending, events begin to unfold and secrets are revealed that subsequently fractured the center of angst that all of Connie’s conflict revolve around. Her life is riddled with lies, masquerades, and broken dreams.

Connie is left with the task of coming to terms with strong, ambivalent feelings towards her mother, staying in a loveless marriage, or risk everything for her independence and ultimately find her place in the world with Nathan.

Customer Reviews on Amazon.com

5.0 out of 5 stars. I really enjoyed the book. It was a page turner from the beginning to the end. I would definitely recommend this book for the young and the old. I brought five books for my friends and family.

4.0 out of 5 stars. By Rico One of the best books I have read lately I have always felt that the most compelling gift that a writer possesses is the ability to describe places and characters in such authentic detail that the reader sees himself/herself there in the flesh watching the story unfold. This was my experience as I read Marita Berry’s “Red September” and being transported to a small fictional Caribbean island,Taino, that featured the same people, culture, beauty and poverty familiar to my own upbringing. On one hand it is the story of a mother who was dealt a cruel hand, losing her father at an early age, living with an abusive alcoholic mother and having the responsibilities of adulthood thrust upon her at much too early an age. Among those responsibilities was having to care for her siblings. Thirty years later with a family of her own she tries to understand the mother who had caused her so much pain and discomfort in her early years and she finds solace retroactively in telling the stories of her upbringing to her daughter, Brenda and at the same time finding room to forgive her abusive mother. “Red September” is much more than a story of struggle and survival. It is also a love story with it’s own twists and turns of the heart. This is one of the best books I have read lately. My advice to you, the reader, is to get a copy and lose yourself in a great story of love, forgiveness and a mother’s triumphant survival in the end.

5.0 out of 5 stars. This book is a wonderful love story, chapter after chapter is gets more endearing that make you want to keep reading. A great buy!!

4.0 out of 5 stars. A great story of an innocent woman coming into adulthood through unexpected trials and tribulations and how things work out.

4.0 out of 5 stars. By S. Stone This was a Giveaway on Goodreads. Thanks so much! I really enjoyed this heartwarming debut novel by Marita Berry. The story travels from the West Indies in the 1940’s to New York City in the 70’s. It’s the story of a young girl has to endure the harshness that her mother’s drinking evokes. Forced to marry their landlord in exchange for a place for her mother and younger siblings to live, raped, and becoming a mother herself at the young age of 16, it is a story of survival, of hopelessness, and of a love seemingly destined not to survive. Recounting her past to her daughter, Connie relives that love and what it has meant through the years. I will definitely look for more works by this author.

Excerpt: Red September Book

Taino, West Indies (1944)

I awoke with the sun that morning, as I’ve done so many times before. I sat up on my bed, put my feet on the cold cement floor, walked over to the window and looked out. I gazed at the beautiful skyline of orange rays coming up above the mountains, while the candlelight’s flickered in the windows of the framed pastel homes that lined the side of the road. It was another tranquil morning on the small island we called Taino. The trade wind blew softly and the air laden with the rich aroma of freshly cut grass and the soil after a rain was invigorating. Lizards skittered, and a rooster crowing nearby signified a new day.

The grandfather clock in the parlor struck the hour, and my ears perked up at the familiar sounds of the screen door slamming shut as my brother Kevin strolled out to the hen house to collect the eggs. Then there was the pitter-patter of my sister’s feet and the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen as my mother prepared breakfast. We would have oatmeal porridge, scrambled eggs, fresh baked bread with homemade fruit jam and chocolate milk most mornings, and whenever we heard Mother stirring the cocoa mix into the tin cups; it signaled to all four children that it was time to eat.

By the time I appeared in the cozy kitchen and sat down at the table, my siblings were already there playing amongst themselves.

“Where’s daddy?” I asked, turning to face my mother.

“He still taking he bath,” she said. “We can’t eat just yet.”

When it came time to eat we knew that we’d have to wait until father was seated and served first. As an eight year old, I realized how important a father was in a young girl’s life. I loved my father, and he loved me too, so much, that he named me Constance after his mother. And as the eldest child, he was very protective of me. In fact, I was daddy’s girl.

My father was the essence of tall, dark, handsome and slightly built. He was adventurous, a great provider, and possessed a gentle, loving and understanding nature. With a chronically ill wife and four children to raise my father was devoted to his home and family. He never ran away from his obligations by escaping to the local rum shop like so many of the other men did. He regularly found the time to spend with each one of us.

My fondest childhood memories was of this little colored girl wearing a pink cotton dress tiptoeing out of the house with my father on a peaceful morning, just as the sun came up, to pick mangoes and sugar apples from the trees growing in an orchard beyond our house.

Our adventure began with us climbing over the fence in the yard and taking a shortcut through the cow pasture, until we reached the tree line. And then father held a long stick with a nail attached on the end as a hook, and bent the tree branches just low enough for me to reach.

Afterwards, we’d find a shady spot under a tree to talk as we ate some of the succulent fruits, before taking the rest home for mother to turn into jams in preparation for the rainy season.

My father taught me important things about life and the world that I could not acquire from any school. He often talked to me about God and how he made boys and girls different and if I did not give of myself too freely, when I grew up, some man would be lucky to have me. I didn’t realize until I was much older that my father was teaching his frightened little girl how to expect to be treated by boys, which later had a great influence in my matrimonial relationship.

I listened very carefully and deeply valued my father’s advice. Those were the times that I felt secure and the closest to him. It was a warm, comfortable bond.

But I knew only too well the consequences of being brought up feeling as though I lived in two worlds.

My mother a woman of average size and appearance, although semi-illiterate, her greatest ability was her firm, determined and strong-willed personality. She was the force around which our entire family existed. As a strict disciplinarian, she strongly believed in the saying, ‘spare the rod, and spoil the child.’ And if I so much as sucked my teeth or frowned when I was told to do something, I would be punished with a beating from my mother.

On the day my father suddenly died from a brain aneurysm, I never felt so empty, so lost and heartbroken. It was the saddest day of my life. My whole world shattered into a million pieces and life as I knew it changed forever.

About the Author Marita Berry – a self-published fiction author lives in New York City. She cherishes her family, exploring the meaning of life, chocolate, rainy days, salsa dancing, and meditation. Marita is most proud of raising her two sons as a single parent into successful young men, while continuing her education where she received a master’s degree in Social Work, and being a grandmother to two wonderful grandsons whom she says keeps her grounded. Marita’s debut novel, Red September takes the readers on a roller-coaster ride of emotions that will make them laugh, cry, wonder, and wanting more. Her book can be found on http://www.maritaberryauthor.com

Intimate Conversation with Black Pearls Magazine

Marita Berry, a New Yorker, retired after a thirty-year career in telecommunications. She cherishes her spiritual relationship with God; her strong, loving family; and close sister-friendships. She is proud of her two sons, daughters-in-law, and grandsons, as well as her master’s degree in social work from Fordham University.

BPM: Tell us about your most recent work. Is this book available on Nook and Kindle? My first novel, Red September, is a self-published, contemporary, fiction, romance novel. A coming-of-age narrative that tells the story of Constance (Connie) Brown, set amidst the poverty of the 1950’s on a small island in the Caribbean. After their father dies, Connie, the eldest of four, and her siblings are left to live in fear of their alcoholic, and abusive mother. Connie life changes when Nathaniel (Nathan) Hart, a charismatic twenty-one-year-old man arrives from New York City on family business. When they meet it is love at first sight for both. However, Connie is forced by her mother to marry Mr. Henry, a wealthy landowner, for financial gain. He moves her into his home on the hill overlooking the town. Though this may seem like a fairy tale ending, events begin to unfold and secrets are revealed that subsequently fractured the center of angst that all of Connie’s conflict revolve around. Her life is riddled with lies, masquerades, and broken dreams. For Connie, life is filled with hard choices. Will Connie bow down with the task of coming to terms with strong, ambivalent feelings towards her mother, staying in a loveless marriage, or risk everything for her independence, and ultimately find her place in the world with her one true love, Nathan? Can time truly heal all wounds? Also available on Kindle.

BPM: Give us some insight into your main characters or speakers. What makes each one so special? Connie is shy and naïve, but she has genuine inner qualities of being a good daughter, helpful, respectful, smart, self-sufficient, nurturing, sensitive to other’s welfare, and she has a strong obligation to her family. The kind of daughter that any mother would be proud of, but she’s never received any affection or compliments from her mother. It’s only through her relationship with her aunt that her self-esteem can be nourished, and she can feel treasured as children need to feel.

Nathan’s strengths are divided into his core values: having traveled the world in the Navy as a young man, he is brave, courageous, knowledgeable, open-minded, perceptive, and persistent. But as he falls heads-over-heels in love with Connie, Nathan is harboring a deep, dark, secret.

BPM: What inspired you to sit down and actually start writing this book? Red September began as a concept after listening to my mother’s countless stories about growing up on a small island in the Caribbean. It was where she lived without running water, nor electricity, and only the dirt roads on which she traveled. The passing away of my mother served as a catalyst that forced me to get down in accomplishing what I set out to do. She was my muse, and her fearless life anecdotes sparked my interest to loosely base this story about a dysfunctional family where the sorrows and afflictions experienced by the family are at the hands of the alcoholic, abusive, mother. It’s a story of hopelessness, survival, and of seemingly destined love.

BPM: Can you share one topic or scene from your book that will touch most readers? I awoke with the sun that morning, as I’ve done so many times before. I sat up on my bed, put my feet on the cold cement floor, walked over to the window and looked out. I gazed at the beautiful skyline of orange rays just above the mountains, while the candlelight’s flickered in the windows of the framed pastel houses that lined the side of the road. Another tranquil morning on the small island we called Taino. The trade winds blew softly, as the air laden with the aroma of fresh cut grass, and the soil after an overnight’s rain was invigorating. Lizards skittered, and a rooster crowed nearby signified a new day.

The grandfather clock in the parlor struck the hour, and my ears perked up at the familiar sounds of the slamming screen door as my brother, Kevin strolled out to the hen house to collect the eggs. Then, there were the pitter-patter of my sister’s feet and the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen as my mother prepared breakfast. We would have oatmeal porridge, scrambled eggs, fresh baked bread with homemade fruit jam, and chocolate milk most mornings. Whenever we heard Mother stirring the cocoa mix into the tin cups; it signaled to all four children that it was time to eat.

By the time I appeared in the cozy kitchen and sat down at the table, my siblings were already there playing amongst themselves. “Where’s daddy?” I asked, turning to face my mother. “He still taking he bath,” she said. “We can’t eat jest yet.” We knew we’d have to wait until our father was seated and served. As an eight-year-old, I realized how important a father was in a young girl’s life. I loved him dearly, and as the eldest, he remained very protective of me. In fact, I was daddy’s girl.

My father was the essence of tall, dark, handsome, and slightly built. He was adventurous, a great provider, and possessed a gentle, loving and understanding nature. With a chronically ill wife, and four children to raise, my father was devoted to his family. He never ran away from his obligations by escaping to the local rum shop like so many of the other men. He regularly found the time to spend with each one of his children.

My fondest childhood memories were of this little colored girl wearing a pink cotton dress, tiptoeing out of the house with my father just as the sun came up. We would go out to pick the mangoes and sugar apples from the trees in an orchard beyond our house for mother to make her jellies and jams.

Our adventure began with us climbing over the fence in the yard, and taking a shortcut through the cow pasture, until we reached the tree line. And then, father held a long stick with a nail attached on the end as a hook to bend the tree branches low enough for me to grasp. Afterwards, we’d find a shady spot under a tree to talk as we ate some of the succulent fruits, before taking the rest home.

My father taught me important things about life and the world I could never acquire from any school. He often talked to me about God, and how he made boys and girls different, and when I grew up some man would be lucky to have me. I didn’t realize until I was much older that my father was teaching his frightened little girl how to expect to be treated by boys. I listened very carefully, and deeply valued my father’s advice. Those were the times I felt most secure. It was a warm, comfortable bond.

But I knew very well the consequences of being brought up feeling as though I lived in two worlds. My mother, a woman of small stature, stood about five-feet-two. Although semi-illiterate, her greatest ability was her firm, determined, no nonsense personality. She was the force around which our entire family existed. As a strict disciplinarian, she strongly believed in the motto, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ And if I so much as sucked my teeth or frowned when I was told to do something, I would be whipped by my mother. The day my father died suddenly from a brain aneurysm, I never felt so empty, so lost and heartbroken. It was the saddest day of my life. My whole world shattered into a million pieces. Then, life as I knew it changed forever.

BPM: Where do your book ideas come from? Are your books plot-driven or character-driven? My book ideas for writing comes from personal experiences and memories, and they are character driven. So far, my characters have been about sheroes, and I try to focus on their inner conflict. I want my characters attitudes, decisions, and personal evolution to change the shape of the plot by having the women encounter life through empowerment, and I want their confidence and strength to be admired without them having to feel ashamed or apologetic about it.

BPM: Is writing easy for you? Do you feel lonely being a writer? No, writing isn’t easy for me, because I find myself spending quite a bit of time just trying to come up with the right words to put on paper, and to have the clarity to know what I want to say in the first place. I do, however, find writing to be certainly challenging. Like any creative activity, I have my good days where I can come up with a great scene or dialog, and my bad days when my mind goes completely blank. I often wondered why people call writers lonely people. I know it can be a lonely activity. If sitting at a desk for six hours once or twice a week, not talking to anyone, or not having any social interactions with other people, while listening to smooth jazz music, lonely?…. then I may very well be lonely…. But what I feel is inner peace.

BPM: What did you enjoy most about writing this book? I enjoyed the freedom to write this book with no pressure or expectations. I wrote it “for fun,” and I didn’t have to worry about any deadlines, or what I wanted to do with the book once it was finished. It was a given that it would be self-published.

BPM: How long does it take to complete one of your books? It took me almost four years to write my first novel, Red September. I was determined it had to be the best I could write, quality was more important to me. Besides, being an indie author, it was a very challenging learning process as you go. My next book, I’m working on, I expect to take a year.

BPM: Do you have any suggestions to help me become a better writer? I would suggest for anyone to become a better writer, to read a variety of books in different genres. Write a lot. Figure out your own style of writing, because everyone writes differently. Share your work with others, and be willing to accept the good as well as the bad critiques without taking it too personal, so that you can grow.

BPM: What period of life do you find you write about most often? I like writing under the genre of coming-of-age stories, young adult, and contemporary women.

BPM: How do you feel when someone disagrees with something you have written? Honestly, if someone gives me negative feedback, it does dampen things momentarily. I’m lucky to have been in a writing group for five years, and we trust each other feedback by giving constructive criticism to improve on our writing. If there is someone in the group that differs with me considerably, first, I thank them for taking the time to read my work, then I take what I want from them, and leave what I don’t, and keep it moving.

BPM: Are there under-represented groups or ideas featured in your book? If so, discuss them. Yes, the under-represented group or ideas that I have featured in my book(s) thus far have been revolved around African-American women. Moreover, because I feel that female characters are less likely than males to have identifiable goals, or to be portrayed as resilient leaders of any kind. I have been surrounded by strong black women all my life. I am moved by the strength of my late grandmother who single-handedly raised thirteen children, or by my late mother who only went as far as the fifth grade, but raised six children, some of whom went on to receive college degrees, or became a pastor or a deacon of their church’s. My sisters, aunts, and sister- friendships have all given me examples of the embodiment of what a strong black woman can be. And so, it’s from them that I pull my stories.

BPM: Share one specific point in your book that resonated with your present situation or journey. My answer would have to be the romantic love that developed between the two main characters, Connie, and Nathan. Three years ago, I fell in love with a guy. At first, I thought it was just lust, but it evolved with time. As I’ve matured on my journey through life, I found out love is not only about the phone calls, the text messages, the I love you’s, the candlelight dinners or the gifts. Love is about understanding each other. It’s feeling that someone is always going to be there for you no matter what the situation. It’s about trust. It’s about growing old into a graceful couple.

BPM: Did you learn anything personal from writing your book? I learned that I’m passionate, optimistic, and dedicated with the utmost belief in myself.

BPM: Can you share some stories about people you met while researching this book? To make my book come to life, I had several pre-recorded tape messages of my mother’s words. The tape recordings that included questions and answers of my mother and I conversations were carefully translated so that I could capture the inflection of her voice, and the remembrance of her reactions. I also interviewed several of her friends, and family members who were born and/or raised in the Caribbean to ensure their interpretation of island living, and to dig deeper into the culture. What I’ve learned from my research is that although some people think living island life is a dream or fantasy, island life in not always paradise. With limited job opportunities, lack of good medical care, everyday power outages, few, or often no developed roads, between the mosquitoes, heat, humidity, hurricanes, and a limited supply of food and goods, it can be the reasons why so many migrate statewide.

BPM: How has writing this book impacted your life as a published author? I’ve always been a bookworm. Reading has helped me through a lot of crisis in my life because there is no better way of getting drama out of your mind than through the pages of a good book. However, I didn’t set out to write this book as a formula for someone else’s life, or as a get-rich quick scheme. I’ve had several Aha’s moments in my life listening to stories that touched my soul or spirit in some way, and it impacted me so significantly that I found myself on this journey of writing I never intended to go on. A journey on which I found myself. Writing gave me confidence, taught me how to take risks, forced me to ask questions about life, and most of all, it has helped me to meet new people, friends, that are on the same journey as me.

BPM: What does literary success look like to you? I look around on a daily basis and say with a very big smile, “Thank you” to the Universe. I set my goals, and I work tirelessly in achieving them. However, I do like to dream big. What literary success look like to me is self-publishing to great acclaim, getting an agent, publication offers, book tours, selling to film rights, and acquiring financial stability through writing. But in the meantime, I feel blessed to know that success is more of being on the right path, rather than a destination. It’s less about the doing and having, and more about the being.

BPM: What are the 3 most effective tools for sharing your book with the world? Social media such as Facebook, Twitter, and my personal website make it easy to share my book with the world.

BPM: What projects are you working on at the present? I’m presently working on my second book, “Soulfully Yours.” It’s about three single women who met in college, and together they established a public relations firm. But due to their busy schedule, the reality of dating in the new millennium isn’t what it used to be. Meeting a guy at the local bar has been replaced by encountering them on the Internet on a popular dating website named, “Soulfully Yours.” As the story unfolds, the lives of the women become entwined as they search for that special someone that will make each one of them happy. What these three women soon discover is a web of secrets and lies that surrounds the world around them.

BPM: How can readers discover more about you and your work? Share all of your social media links.

My readers can follow me on: Author’s Webpage: http://www.maritaberryauthor.com. Facebook/www.facebook.com/ritaberry.750 Twitter/www.twitter.com/Rebberry Goodreads/www.goodreads.com/meberry

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Black Pearls Magazine for the time to interview me, and in learning more about my work.

Purchase Red September by Marita Berry Genre: Contemporary Romance Novel https://www.amazon.com/Red-September-Marita-Berry/dp/149177696X http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/bookdetail.aspx?bookid=SKU-000501693

Red September by Marita Berry Red September, is a contemporary, fiction, romance novel. It’s a coming-of-age narrative that tells the story of Constance (Connie) Brown.

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themagiciansreccenter · 6 years

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Five @ Five: @under-the-shady-tree

As a part of our author spotlight, we’ve asked each writer to highlight 5 fics and tell us a little about their experience writing (or reading) them.

Destiny is Bullshit

“Because it is us!” he exclaimed. “I mean think about it. Jane created the time loops after my death. I asked why me and she never gave me a straight answer. Now I know it’s because she needed me there to get the key. I mean, I know I’ve always wanted to be some chosen one but does this make me one because holy shit El, it’s kind of fucked up. Like some destiny that I have no actual control over my life. What if everything I’ve ever done or felt wasn’t real because-”

“Ok Q!” Eliot came over and grabbed the sides of Quentin’s face him to force him to stop and look at him. “You’re spinning. I get it, your mind is blown right and tail spinning is kind of your thing when that happens, but I need you to take a breath.” Eliot could always break through Quentin's panic and reach him. Quentin stared into his eyes and took a deep breath. Eliot watched him intently and didn’t remove his hands. “Good, you good?”

“I’m good,” Quentin whispered. Eliot nodded, he was running his thumb gently close to Quentin’s ear and he relaxed a little into that touch.

“Good,” Eliot smiled. “Now, all this sounds really big when you put it like that, but destiny is bullshit.” Quentin blinked, a little surprised. “You told me that. Life and the choices we made brought us here, not some higher power or bigger plan. According to those books, you are the reason Jane was able to make the time loops, but it wasn’t because of Jane or some destiny. It was because you made a choice. You choose to give her the key because it was the right thing to do. She needed it then and we able to get it to us now in the end so it doesn't matter that you gave it to her then. You did the right thing, even though it brought you pain. That’s some like hero shit, Quentin.” Quentin stared at him unblinking. Just as quickly as his panic had come on, Eliot’s words washed it away. How he was always able to do that, Quentin would never know.

—

This was what brought me back into writing again. After watching A Life in a Day my mind could not stop racing. Then with the next episode, I wanted to know how they went from “How do we remember that?” too cuddly life partners who were completely at ease. So out came this fic, set right in between those two moments I wanted to really explore what could have happened and how Quentin and Eliot came to terms with the fact that they lived an entire life together. I also wanted to see Margo’s side of things and almost made her story a separate fic, but wised up and mixed it all together. I have a lot of feelings about this one and it means a lot to me.

Make It All Quit Around Me

“Come on Q,” Eliot practically hummed as he nuzzled his nose in the spot above Quentin’s ear. “Have some fun with me.” Eliot’s breath against his ear sent a shiver down Quentin’s spine and he relaxed against him. “Arielle and Rupert won’t be back for at least another hour, think of all the fun we could have before they got back.” Again not waiting for Quentin to try to get them back to work, Eliot pulled Quentin to the ground with him. Eliot lay on his back in the soft grass next to the mosaic and captured Quentin’s lips in a slow and lazy kind of kiss. Quentin smiled against his lips and then gave in, it wasn’t worth the fight and his growing erection wasn’t going to go away soon anyway,

“You win,” Quentin said before taking Eliot’s bottom lip between his teeth. Eliot let out a low chuckle and bucked his hips against Quentin. Quentin sucked in a breath and ground his hips back in response and he felt Eliot’s fingers tangle in his hair.

“Q," Eliot breathed in his ear and Quentin closed his eyes. His name coming from Eliot’s lips always sounded different to him than anyone else and the feeling it sent through his body now was beyond erotic. He took Eliot’s face into his hands as they thrust into each other and kissed him hard enough to leave them both breathless

—

I want to be careful when talking about this one because I don’t want to spoil anything, but this came from me thinking If I wrote the show, what would the first scene of season 4 be? And this would basically be my answer. I came up with the ending first and actually wrote three different versions of it. The first version was them talking about their feelings, and it was horrible. Then I tried a full-on sex and it was….bad. I am not very comfortable writing sex scenes, it’s never been something I’ve been great at. I sometimes get down on myself because I don’t write it when this fandom is filled with some much talent in that department. This was me trying to step out of my comfort zones to see if I could do it. I finally found a way to write around my discomfort and come up with something I felt was pretty good and I ended up super proud. Also, the song that the title comes from, A Kind of Hunger by Penny and Sparrow, is one of my absolute favorite songs ever and I had it on repeat while I wrote this. It’s such a haunting and amazing song.

Our Mistakes, they were bound to be made

“I know for me it was different,” Alice said with a half-hearted shrug. “I loved being a niffin, and deep down it was still me doing all of that. You on the other hand,” She gestured to Eliot, whose eyes turned a little darker like he was prepared for an accusation. “You didn’t choose to be a monster and deep down it wasn’t you doing those things. You were just along the ride.” Eliot’s eyes drifted away to stare off into nothing. Alice could only guess the kinds of memories he must have from the time the monster had control and she shivered at the thought. “But you did make a choice once. You chose to shoot the monster.” Now he looked back at her and Alice nodded.

“I was there; you didn’t hesitate. You did what you thought would save him.” A haunted kind of look came over Eliot and his whole body sagged with guilt. “I get it because I became a niffin to save him too and then he almost killed himself trying to save me.” Eliot pulled his leg tighter to his chest, his eyes wide and she could see them starting to shine with unshed tears. She leaned forward a bit feeling like maybe she could actually get through to him.

—

This came from my hope that we get more interaction between Alice and Eliot. I think they now have a lot in common and I would love to see them come together a bit. I came up with the talk that Alice gives Eliot first and it took me a little bit to figure out how to get there. I thought at first she would talk to Eliot while Quentin had fallen asleep, but it didn’t feel right. Then I got the image in my head of her on this cold deserted beach with a grey cloudy sky. Also of her smoking a cigarette which was kind of a visual link to Eliot that I thought was cool. I also got the idea of her walking through this house and seeing everyone but no one really seeing her until she’s in a room with Eliot. And Eliot isolated and everyone talking about him but him ignoring all of them kind of just like Alice. Writing this was one of those rare moments where I got the idea and it came out just how it was in my head and I feel really happy with the outcome.

The Mess We Made

“I know where I am in your heart,” Quentin said softly and Eliot smiled. It was something that Eliot would always say in the early days of Quentin and Arielle’s courtship. When Quentin was racked with guilt that he was hurting Eliot unnecessarily. No matter how many times Eliot would say it was ok, Quentin didn’t believe him.

“I know I where I am in your heart Quentin Coldwater,” he said on the night when Quentin realized he loved Arielle. “I also know how big your heart is, it’s ok to let someone else in. There’s more than enough room”.

Quentin pulled Eliot to him and kissed him. He clutched at the side of Eliot’s face, kissing him with more ferocity than he had in a while and he could almost feel Eliot’s surprise before he dropped down to his knees and returned the same intensity. For just that moment, in the quiet twilight of the morning, all of their problems and walls they had built were gone. The distance between them seemed to have grown some temporary bridge and they were just them again. Two out of time questers, trying to make it through this together. The rest of it didn’t matter.

—

So, a few chapters into writing Destiny is Bullshit, I pretty much knew that I wanted to write about the whole mosaic timeline. My plan during most of it was to write about their first year and the lovely slow burn relationship that I live for. But when it finally came time for me to write I didn’t want to write about them getting together. I thought it would be a little too close to Destiny is Bullshit since that was kind of them getting back together. I wanted to write from a more established point in their relationship and try to figure out what that would like. Quentin and Eliot don’t have a traditional relationship and I love that, but I’m sure that wasn’t an easy road to figure out. It was originally going to be a lot shorter, and a certain character was going to be much more of a “villain” but once I decided to set it right after Rupert was born, the whole story took a turn. Even good relationships struggle sometimes and it doesn’t have to mean you’re about break up. But life gets hard and complicated. Especially being out of time, in Fillory, when all they had was each other and suddenly they have a family and a community and whole life. It seemed like that would be a make it or break it moment where they had to really decide to not only commit to the quest but to the life, they were building while they worked.I was also heavily inspired by the song Are You With Me by Nilu, beautiful song, the line “Right now I need you here, I need you to stay strong, to remind me where I came from and where I belong”, jumped out at me and really got this whole thing going. It feels very Queliot to me. This whole story turned out so much deeper and more meaningful than I thought it would and I love it for that.

The Winds of Change Will Change Your Mind

“How long has that been going on with Eliot?” Quentin didn’t move, but she could see his shoulders tense.

“That’s something I’m not going to tell you about.” He said looking over at her. Alice shut her eyes for a second and took a breath.

“That’s fine,” she said. “I was just going to say that I’m not surprised and it kind of makes sense.” Quentin looked surprised.

“Okay,” He said slowly.

“For what it’s worth.” She said folding her hands in her lap. “It doesn’t bother me that you’re happy.” It was the best she could do, and even though it wasn’t much, Quentin seemed to understand that at least. He nodded, his face softening in a familiar look of friendship.

“Thank you.” He said. Alice nodded and quickly stood, the need to get away from this conversation pushing her toward the stairs before she fully registered that she was going. She looked back over her shoulder at Quentin. He watched her for a moment, then went back to his book.

As Alice walked up the stairs that led to the deck of the Muntjac, she felt a little better. Like wishing Quentin well had eased some of her pain, even just for a few seconds. Stepping out onto the deck, she made sure to steer clear of where Margo and Eliot were talking. Standing at the bow of the ship she closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would feel like to be that ordinary girl she used to dream of when she went sailing. What it would be like to have never had magic and to be free.

—

I’m sure it’s clear if you read anything by me that I love filling in the stuff we don’t see. When it started to become apparent that there was probably not going to be an onscreen mention that Quentin and Eliot had lived a whole life together, I wanted to write the other characters figuring it out. I also have used this as a way to establish how I write each character. Each chapter is kind of a character study with a little revel on Quentin and Eliot in the end. And it’s just been really fun to write, trying to figure out who knew what and when and trying to puzzle piece it all in with everything that went on last season. I especially enjoyed writing the Alice chapter and the Penny chapter is what inspired my timeline 23 fic. I have just one more to go, Josh’s chapter is working itself out and I think it will be a really fun ending!

#five@five #the magicians rec center #author spotlight #author: rays/under the shady tree

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marketingadvisorvietnam · 7 years

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Saigon’s sidewalk revolution will not be motorized

Marketing Advisor đã viết bài trên http://www.ticvietnam.vn/saigons-sidewalk-revolution-will-not-be-motorized/

Saigon’s sidewalk revolution will not be motorized

The pavement has been liberated; long live pedestrians!

Saigon isn’t exactly pedestrian-friendly. The city’s many broken sidewalks often double as motorbike parking lots.

In heavy traffic, they triple as emergency lanes.

The tropical climate (hot and/or wet) isn’t conducive to strolling, but the political one is changing.

A no-nonsense campaign has kicked off in earnest, scraping sidewalks clear of everything from police shelters to illegal signs.

Grab a bottle of water and step out into the brave new pavement.

Le Duan-Nguyen Binh Khiem, District 1

A leisurely walk under the trees

Leafy April 30th Park offers a place for young people to eat, sing and snack.

Begin in their midst and proceed past the sprawling consulates lining Le Duan Boulevard to the front entrance of the Saigon Zoo and Botanical Gardens.

If you get arrive at the right time, you may just get a chance to stop in and feed the giraffes. Otherwise, follow the breeze toward the river.

Traffic remains perennially light along this shaded section of Nguyen Binh Kiem thanks to a double-row of towering dau rai trees.

Pham Duy, perhaps the country’s most prolific songwriter, rhapsodized how their falling leaves led young lovers to the nearby Trung Vuong High School, which initially served as a hospital for French military officers.

Finish your walk by popping in to check out the awesome dinosaur mural that flanks the back wall of the museum of Geology, which feels more like a museum of a museum.

Ly Tu Trong Street

Street of interesting stops

Catinat Building at 26 Ly Tu Trong

Begin under the dense (and doomed) canopy on Ton Duc Thang street and walk south against traffic.

You’ll soon find yourself standing in front of Children’s Hospital 2, one of the oldest in Asia, according to Tim Doling, author of the walking guidebook Exploring Ho Chi Minh City.

“Set amidst lush gardens and shady trees, Children’s Hospital 2 has been cited as a prime example of how good architecture can make a healthcare environment welcoming to patients and their families, rather than treating them as victims in a stark and sterile space,” Doling wrote on his site, Historic Vietnam,

Further down the street, drop into the Catinat Building [26 Ly Tu Trong] and explore the galleries, cafés, restaurant, clothing stores and a cooking classrooms that cling to the stone building’s winding stone staircase. According to Doling’s research, the building sits just next door to the CIA office, where helicopters once swooped down to evacuate agents in the final hours of the US-backed regime.

Sadly, visitors aren’t permitted on the roof and the Catinat is slated for “re-development.”

Proceed further down sidewalks shaded by tamarind trees and dip into alley 177 for fresh cut fruit, crushed ice and yogurt (AKA Trai Cay To).

Truong Dinh – Ba Huyen Thanh Quan

Bright by day, cool by night

Start at Tao Dan Park, a 10-hectare park at the center of the city that contains everything from ancient tombstones and a popular morning hangout for songbird enthusiasts. You could literally spend all day here, doing aerobics, playing tennis and swimming laps.

The narrow grid of streets immediately west of the park offers a wonderful density of beautiful colonial-era villas and mansions, many of them crumbling, a few threatened, but a few more mercifully restored.

The jewel in the crown may be the multi-million dollar Phuong Nam Mansion, which occupies an entire block at the corner of Vo Van Tan and Ba Huyen Thanh Quan.

In the evening, the area’s significant density of cafes and bars fills with young folks out in search of noodles and live music.

Pop in to the always-packed Acoustic Bar (on Ngo Thoi Nhiem St.) and slowly eat your way to the relaxing and cozy Yoko Bar (on Nguyen Thi Dieu St) for a cold beer and some original tunes.

Peanut roasters in Vuon Chuoi

Ban Co area

Get Lost in the Checkerboard

Leave your smart phone at home and take a step into the frenetic Vuon Chuoi Market, a two-story concrete structure packed to exploding with people in search of everything from cheap clocks to fresh seafood.

Tents extend from the market’s rear exits into the twisted guts of Saigon’s sprawling Ban Co (“Checkerboard”) neighborhood.

Step gingerly through the frogs, vegetables and meat laid out on the ground behind the market and get lost amid the slender homes, temples and restaurants utterly insulated from the chaos and noise of the city—a labyrinth in want of a Minotaur.

Families living in these “matchbook” homes tend to leave their front doors open for insulation, so the casual stroller quickly becomes an observer of lives: lunches eaten, arguments had, naps taken.

The place is a voyeur’s paradise—a Mobius strip of daily life.

The whole thing seems like it may go on forever and ever, until you emerge, dazed and confused, into the noise and movement of an actual street.

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwakened Eve With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: He, on his side Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamoured, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. Awake, My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight! Awake: The morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake. O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection! glad I see Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night (Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, Works of day past, or morrow's next design, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksome night: Methought, Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk With gentle voice; I thought it thine: It said, 'Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time, 'The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 'To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 'Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns 'Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light 'Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain, 'If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes, 'Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire? 'In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment 'Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.' I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; To find thee I directed then my walk; And on, methought, alone I passed through ways That brought me on a sudden to the tree Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seemed, Much fairer to my fancy than by day: And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven By us oft seen; his dewy locks distilled Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed; And 'O fair plant,' said he, 'with fruit surcharged, 'Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 'Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge so despised? 'Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? 'Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 'Longer thy offered good; why else set here? This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm He plucked, he tasted; me damp horrour chilled At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold: But he thus, overjoyed; 'O fruit divine, 'Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, 'Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 'For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men: 'And why not Gods of Men; since good, the more 'Communicated, more abundant grows, 'The author not impaired, but honoured more? 'Here, happy creature, fair angelick Eve! 'Partake thou also; happy though thou art, 'Happier thou mayest be, worthier canst not be: 'Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods 'Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confined, 'But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 'Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see 'What life the Gods live there, and such live thou!' So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part Which he had plucked; the pleasant savoury smell So quickened appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide And various: Wondering at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, And fell asleep; but O, how glad I waked To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night Related, and thus Adam answered sad. Best image of myself, and dearer half, The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep Affects me equally; nor can I like This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear; Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none, Created pure. But know that in the soul Are many lesser faculties, that serve Reason as chief; among these Fancy next Her office holds; of all external things Which the five watchful senses represent, She forms imaginations, aery shapes, Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell, when nature rests. Oft in her absence mimick Fancy wakes To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams; Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. Some such resemblances, methinks, I find Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, But with addition strange; yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or Man May come and go, so unreproved, and leave No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Waking thou never will consent to do. Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks, That wont to be more cheerful and serene, Than when fair morning first smiles on the world; And let us to our fresh employments rise Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers That open now their choisest bosomed smells, Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store. So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered; But silently a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wiped them with her hair; Two other precious drops that ready stood, Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that feared to have offended. So all was cleared, and to the field they haste. But first, from under shady arborous roof Soon as they forth were come to open sight Of day-spring, and the sun, who, scarce up-risen, With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean-brim, Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, Discovering in wide landskip all the east Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, Lowly they bowed adoring, and began Their orisons, each morning duly paid In various style; for neither various style Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, More tuneable than needed lute or harp To add more sweetness; and they thus began. These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty! Thine this universal frame, Thus wonderous fair; Thyself how wonderous then! Unspeakable, who sitst above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crownest the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climbest, And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fallest. Moon, that now meetest the orient sun, now flyest, With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies; And ye five other wandering Fires, that move In mystick dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise; Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices, all ye living Souls: Ye Birds, That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us only good; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark! So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm. On to their morning's rural work they haste, Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row Of fruit-trees over-woody reached too far Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines Her marriageable arms, and with him brings Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn His barren leaves. Them thus employed beheld With pity Heaven's high King, and to him called Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deigned To travel with Tobias, and secured His marriage with the seventimes-wedded maid. Raphael, said he, thou hearest what stir on Earth Satan, from Hell 'scaped through the darksome gulf, Hath raised in Paradise; and how disturbed This night the human pair; how he designs In them at once to ruin all mankind. Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade Thou findest him from the heat of noon retired, To respite his day-labour with repast, Or with repose; and such discourse bring on, As may advise him of his happy state, Happiness in his power left free to will, Left to his own free will, his will though free, Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware He swerve not, too secure: Tell him withal His danger, and from whom; what enemy, Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now The fall of others from like state of bliss; By violence? no, for that shall be withstood; But by deceit and lies: This let him know, Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned. So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled All justice: Nor delayed the winged Saint After his charge received; but from among Thousand celestial Ardours, where he stood Veiled with his gorgeous wings, up springing light, Flew through the midst of Heaven; the angelick quires, On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Through all the empyreal road; till, at the gate Of Heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide On golden hinges turning, as by work Divine the sovran Architect had framed. From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, Star interposed, however small he sees, Not unconformed to other shining globes, Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars crowned Above all hills. As when by night the glass Of Galileo, less assured, observes Imagined lands and regions in the moon: Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appearing, kens A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan Winnows the buxom air; till, within soar Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems A phoenix, gazed by all as that sole bird, When, to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise He lights, and to his proper shape returns A Seraph winged: Six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments divine; the pair that clad Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast With regal ornament; the middle pair Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold And colours dipt in Heaven; the third his feet Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail, Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia's son he stood, And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands Of Angels under watch; and to his state, And to his message high, in honour rise; For on some message high they guessed him bound. Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm; A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will Her virgin fancies pouring forth more sweet, Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. Him through the spicy forest onward come Adam discerned, as in the door he sat Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs: And Eve within, due at her hour prepared For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please True appetite, and not disrelish thirst Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, Berry or grape: To whom thus Adam called. Haste hither, Eve, and worth thy sight behold Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape Comes this way moving; seems another morn Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from Heaven To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe This day to be our guest. But go with speed, And, what thy stores contain, bring forth, and pour Abundance, fit to honour and receive Our heavenly stranger: Well we may afford Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow From large bestowed, where Nature multiplies Her fertile growth, and by disburthening grows More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallowed mould, Of God inspired! small store will serve, where store, All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk; Save what by frugal storing firmness gains To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, Each plant and juciest gourd, will pluck such choice To entertain our Angel-guest, as he Beholding shall confess, that here on Earth God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heaven. So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent What choice to choose for delicacy best, What order, so contrived as not to mix Tastes, not well joined, inelegant, but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change; Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields In India East or West, or middle shore In Pontus or the Punick coast, or where Alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, She gathers, tribute large, and on the board Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure; then strows the ground With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet His God-like guest, walks forth, without more train Accompanied than with his own complete Perfections; in himself was all his state, More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits On princes, when their rich retinue long Of horses led, and grooms besmeared with gold, Dazzles the croud, and sets them all agape. Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed, Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, As to a superiour nature bowing low, Thus said. Native of Heaven, for other place None can than Heaven such glorious shape contain; Since, by descending from the thrones above, Those happy places thou hast deigned a while To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower To rest; and what the garden choicest bears To sit and taste, till this meridian heat Be over, and the sun more cool decline. Whom thus the angelick Virtue answered mild. Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such Created, or such place hast here to dwell, As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heaven, To visit thee; lead on then where thy bower O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled, With flowerets decked, and fragrant smells; but Eve, Undecked save with herself, more lovely fair Than Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feigned Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, Stood to entertain her guest from Heaven; no veil She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm Altered her cheek. On whom the Angel Hail Bestowed, the holy salutation used Long after to blest Mary, second Eve. Hail, Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful womb Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, Than with these various fruits the trees of God Have heaped this table!--Raised of grassy turf Their table was, and mossy seats had round, And on her ample square from side to side All autumn piled, though spring and autumn here Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they hold; No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began Our author. Heavenly stranger, please to taste These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, To us for food and for delight hath caused The earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps To spiritual natures; only this I know, That one celestial Father gives to all. To whom the Angel. Therefore what he gives (Whose praise be ever sung) to Man in part Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found No ingrateful food: And food alike those pure Intelligential substances require, As doth your rational; and both contain Within them every lower faculty Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, And corporeal to incorporeal turn. For know, whatever was created, needs To be sustained and fed: Of elements The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea, Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon; Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged Vapours not yet into her substance turned. Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale From her moist continent to higher orbs. The sun that light imparts to all, receives From all his alimental recompence In humid exhalations, and at even Sups with the ocean. Though in Heaven the trees Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines Yield nectar; though from off the boughs each morn We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground Covered with pearly grain: Yet God hath here Varied his bounty so with new delights, As may compare with Heaven; and to taste Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat, And to their viands fell; nor seemingly The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss Of Theologians; but with keen dispatch Of real hunger, and concoctive heat To transubstantiate: What redounds, transpires Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder;if by fire Of sooty coal the empirick alchemist Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold, As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve Ministered naked, and their flowing cups With pleasant liquours crowned: O innocence Deserving Paradise! if ever, then, Then had the sons of God excuse to have been Enamoured at that sight; but in those hearts Love unlibidinous reigned, nor jealousy Was understood, the injured lover's hell. Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, Not burdened nature, sudden mind arose In Adam, not to let the occasion pass Given him by this great conference to know Of things above his world, and of their being Who dwell in Heaven, whose excellence he saw Transcend his own so far; whose radiant forms, Divine effulgence, whose high power, so far Exceeded human; and his wary speech Thus to the empyreal minister he framed. Inhabitant with God, now know I well Thy favour, in this honour done to Man; Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, Food not of Angels, yet accepted so, As that more willingly thou couldst not seem At Heaven's high feasts to have fed: yet what compare To whom the winged Hierarch replied. O Adam, One Almighty is, from whom All things proceed, and up to him return, If not depraved from good, created all Such to perfection, one first matter all, Endued with various forms, various degrees Of substance, and, in things that live, of life; But more refined, more spiritous, and pure, As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending Each in their several active spheres assigned, Till body up to spirit work, in bounds Proportioned to each kind. So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves More aery, last the bright consummate flower Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit, Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed, To vital spirits aspire, to animal, To intellectual; give both life and sense, Fancy and understanding; whence the soul Reason receives, and reason is her being, Discursive, or intuitive; discourse Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, Differing but in degree, of kind the same. Wonder not then, what God for you saw good If I refuse not, but convert, as you To proper substance. Time may come, when Men With Angels may participate, and find No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare; And from these corporal nutriments perhaps Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, Improved by tract of time, and, winged, ascend Ethereal, as we; or may, at choice, Here or in heavenly Paradises dwell; If ye be found obedient, and retain Unalterably firm his love entire, Whose progeny you are. Mean while enjoy Your fill what happiness this happy state Can comprehend, incapable of more. To whom the patriarch of mankind replied. O favourable Spirit, propitious guest, Well hast thou taught the way that might direct Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set From center to circumference; whereon, In contemplation of created things, By steps we may ascend to God. But say, What meant that caution joined, If ye be found Obedient? Can we want obedience then To him, or possibly his love desert, Who formed us from the dust and placed us here Full to the utmost measure of what bliss Human desires can seek or apprehend? To whom the Angel. Son of Heaven and Earth, Attend! That thou art happy, owe to God; That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, That is, to thy obedience; therein stand. This was that caution given thee; be advised. God made thee perfect, not immutable; And good he made thee, but to persevere He left it in thy power; ordained thy will By nature free, not over-ruled by fate Inextricable, or strict necessity: Our voluntary service he requires, Not our necessitated; such with him Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how Can hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve Willing or no, who will but what they must By destiny, and can no other choose? Myself, and all the angelick host, that stand In sight of God, enthroned, our happy state Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; On other surety none: Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not; in this we stand or fall: And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, And so from Heaven to deepest Hell; O fall From what high state of bliss, into what woe! To whom our great progenitor. Thy words Attentive, and with more delighted ear, Divine instructer, I have heard, than when Cherubick songs by night from neighbouring hills Aereal musick send: Nor knew I not To be both will and deed created free; Yet that we never shall forget to love Our Maker, and obey him whose command Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts Assured me, and still assure: Though what thou tellest Hath passed in Heaven, some doubt within me move, But more desire to hear, if thou consent, The full relation, which must needs be strange, Worthy of sacred silence to be heard; And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun Hath finished half his journey, and scarce begins His other half in the great zone of Heaven. Thus Adam made request; and Raphael, After short pause assenting, thus began. High matter thou enjoinest me, O prime of men, Sad task and hard: For how shall I relate To human sense the invisible exploits Of warring Spirits? how, without remorse, The ruin of so many glorious once And perfect while they stood? how last unfold The secrets of another world, perhaps Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy good This is dispensed; and what surmounts the reach Of human sense, I shall delineate so, By likening spiritual to corporal forms, As may express them best; though what if Earth Be but a shadow of Heaven, and things therein Each to other like, more than on earth is thought? As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild Reigned where these Heavens now roll, where Earth now rests Upon her center poised; when on a day (For time, though in eternity, applied To motion, measures all things durable By present, past, and future,) on such day As Heaven's great year brings forth, the empyreal host Of Angels by imperial summons called, Innumerable before the Almighty's throne Forthwith, from all the ends of Heaven, appeared Under their Hierarchs in orders bright: Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, Standards and gonfalons 'twixt van and rear Stream in the air, and for distinction serve Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees; Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs Of circuit inexpressible they stood, Orb within orb, the Father Infinite, By whom in bliss imbosomed sat the Son, Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top Brightness had made invisible, thus spake. Hear, all ye Angels, progeny of light, Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers; Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand. This day I have begot whom I declare My only Son, and on this holy hill Him have anointed, whom ye now behold At my right hand; your head I him appoint; And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow All knees in Heaven, and shall confess him Lord: Under his great vice-gerent reign abide United, as one individual soul, For ever happy: Him who disobeys, Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day, Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls Into utter darkness, deep ingulfed, his place Ordained without redemption, without end. So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words All seemed well pleased; all seemed, but were not all. That day, as other solemn days, they spent In song and dance about the sacred hill; Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere Of planets, and of fixed, in all her wheels Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, Eccentrick, intervolved, yet regular Then most, when most irregular they seem; And in their motions harmony divine So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear Listens delighted. Evening now approached, (For we have also our evening and our morn, We ours for change delectable, not need;) Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn Desirous; all in circles as they stood, Tables are set, and on a sudden piled With Angels food, and rubied nectar flows In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crowned, They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy, secure Of surfeit, where full measure only bounds Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhaled From that high mount of God, whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had changed To grateful twilight, (for night comes not there In darker veil,) and roseat dews disposed All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest; Wide over all the plain, and wider far Than all this globous earth in plain outspread, (Such are the courts of God) the angelick throng, Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend By living streams among the trees of life, Pavilions numberless, and sudden reared, Celestial tabernacles, where they slept Fanned with cool winds; save those, who, in their course, Melodious hymns about the sovran throne Alternate all night long: but not so waked Satan; so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in Heaven; he of the first, If not the first Arch-Angel, great in power, In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught With envy against the Son of God, that day Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed Messiah King anointed, could not bear Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaired. Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved With all his legions to dislodge, and leave Unworshipt, unobeyed, the throne supreme, Contemptuous; and his next subordinate Awakening, thus to him in secret spake. Sleepest thou, Companion dear? What sleep can close Thy eye-lids? and rememberest what decree Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips Of Heaven's Almighty. Thou to me thy thoughts Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to impart; Both waking we were one; how then can now Thy sleep dissent? New laws thou seest imposed; New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise In us who serve, new counsels to debate What doubtful may ensue: More in this place To utter is not safe. Assemble thou Of all those myriads which we lead the chief; Tell them, that by command, ere yet dim night Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, And all who under me their banners wave, Homeward, with flying march, where we possess The quarters of the north; there to prepare Fit entertainment to receive our King, The great Messiah, and his new commands, Who speedily through all the hierarchies Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws. So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infused Bad influence into the unwary breast Of his associate: He together calls, Or several one by one, the regent Powers, Under him Regent; tells, as he was taught, That the Most High commanding, now ere night, Now ere dim night had disincumbered Heaven, The great hierarchal standard was to move; Tells the suggested cause, and casts between Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound Or taint integrity: But all obeyed The wonted signal, and superiour voice Of their great Potentate; for great indeed His name, and high was his degree in Heaven; His countenance, as the morning-star that guides The starry flock, allured them, and with lies Drew after him the third part of Heaven's host. Mean while the Eternal eye, whose sight discerns Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount, And from within the golden lamps that burn Nightly before him, saw without their light Rebellion rising; saw in whom, how spread Among the sons of morn, what multitudes Were banded to oppose his high decree; And, smiling, to his only Son thus said. Son, thou in whom my glory I behold In full resplendence, Heir of all my might, Nearly it now concerns us to be sure Of our Omnipotence, and with what arms We mean to hold what anciently we claim Of deity or empire: Such a foe Is rising, who intends to erect his throne Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north; Nor so content, hath in his thought to try In battle, what our power is, or our right. Let us advise, and to this hazard draw With speed what force is left, and all employ In our defence; lest unawares we lose This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill. To whom the Son with calm aspect and clear, Lightning divine, ineffable, serene, Made answer. Mighty Father, thou thy foes Justly hast in derision, and, secure, Laughest at their vain designs and tumults vain, Matter to me of glory, whom their hate Illustrates, when they see all regal power Given me to quell their pride, and in event Know whether I be dextrous to subdue Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven. So spake the Son; but Satan, with his Powers, Far was advanced on winged speed; an host Innumerable as the stars of night, Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun Impearls on every leaf and every flower. Regions they passed, the mighty regencies Of Seraphim, and Potentates, and Thrones, In their triple degrees; regions to which All thy dominion, Adam, is no more Than what this garden is to all the earth, And all the sea, from one entire globose Stretched into longitude; which having passed, At length into the limits of the north They came; and Satan to his royal seat High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount Raised on a mount, with pyramids and towers From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold; The palace of great Lucifer, (so call That structure in the dialect of men Interpreted,) which not long after, he Affecting all equality with God, In imitation of that mount whereon Messiah was declared in sight of Heaven, The Mountain of the Congregation called; For thither he assembled all his train, Pretending so commanded to consult About the great reception of their King, Thither to come, and with calumnious art Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears. Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers; If these magnifick titles yet remain Not merely titular, since by decree Another now hath to himself engrossed All power, and us eclipsed under the name Of King anointed, for whom all this haste Of midnight-march, and hurried meeting here, This only to consult how we may best, With what may be devised of honours new, Receive him coming to receive from us Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile! Too much to one! but double how endured, To one, and to his image now proclaimed? But what if better counsels might erect Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke? Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend The supple knee? Ye will not, if I trust To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves Natives and sons of Heaven possessed before By none; and if not equal all, yet free, Equally free; for orders and degrees Jar not with liberty, but well consist. Who can in reason then, or right, assume Monarchy over such as live by right His equals, if in power and splendour less, In freedom equal? or can introduce Law and edict on us, who without law Err not? much less for this to be our Lord, And look for adoration, to the abuse Of those imperial titles, which assert Our being ordained to govern, not to serve. Thus far his bold discourse without controul Had audience; when among the Seraphim Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored The Deity, and divine commands obeyed, Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe The current of his fury thus opposed. O argument blasphemous, false, and proud! Words which no ear ever to hear in Heaven Expected, least of all from thee, Ingrate, In place thyself so high above thy peers. Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, That to his only Son, by right endued With regal scepter, every soul in Heaven Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due Confess him rightful King? unjust, thou sayest, Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, And equal over equals to let reign, One over all with unsucceeded power. Shalt thou give law to God? shalt thou dispute With him the points of liberty, who made Thee what thou art, and formed the Powers of Heaven Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being? Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, And of our good and of our dignity How provident he is; how far from thought To make us less, bent rather to exalt Our happy state, under one head more near United. But to grant it thee unjust, That equal over equals monarch reign: Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count, Or all angelick nature joined in one, Equal to him begotten Son? by whom, As by his Word, the Mighty Father made All things, even thee; and all the Spirits of Heaven By him created in their bright degrees, Crowned them with glory, and to their glory named Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, Essential Powers; nor by his reign obscured, But more illustrious made; since he the head One of our number thus reduced becomes; His laws our laws; all honour to him done Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage, And tempt not these; but hasten to appease The incensed Father, and the incensed Son, While pardon may be found in time besought. So spake the fervent Angel; but his zeal None seconded, as out of season judged, Or singular and rash: Whereat rejoiced The Apostate, and, more haughty, thus replied. That we were formed then sayest thou? and the work Of secondary hands, by task transferred From Father to his Son? strange point and new! Doctrine which we would know whence learned: who saw When this creation was? rememberest thou Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being? We know no time when we were not as now; Know none before us, self-begot, self-raised By our own quickening power, when fatal course Had circled his full orb, the birth mature Of this our native Heaven, ethereal sons. Our puissance is our own; our own right hand Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try Who is our equal: Then thou shalt behold Whether by supplication we intend Address, and to begirt the almighty throne Beseeching or besieging. This report, These tidings carry to the anointed King; And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight. He said; and, as the sound of waters deep, Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause Through the infinite host; nor less for that The flaming Seraph fearless, though alone Encompassed round with foes, thus answered bold. O alienate from God, O Spirit accursed, Forsaken of all good! I see thy fall Determined, and thy hapless crew involved In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread Both of thy crime and punishment: Henceforth No more be troubled how to quit the yoke Of God's Messiah; those indulgent laws Will not be now vouchsafed; other decrees Against thee are gone forth without recall; That golden scepter, which thou didst reject, Is now an iron rod to bruise and break Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise; Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath Impendent, raging into sudden flame, Distinguish not: For soon expect to feel His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. Then who created thee lamenting learn, When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know. So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he; Among innumerable false, unmoved, Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; Nor number, nor example, with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, Though single. From amidst them forth he passed, Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained Superiour, nor of violence feared aught; And, with retorted scorn, his back he turned On those proud towers to swift destruction doomed.

#ParadiseLost

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themagiciansreccenter · 5 years

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Author Spotlight: @wickodi

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

I'm 28 (unfortunately), live in the US, and a nb bisexual disaster. I love to write whether it's my own original stuff or fanfic, and when I'm not doing that I'm usually playing Sims or catching up on shows.

How long have you been writing for?

Oh wow, my mom got me an old school writing program when I was nine, so like 19 years? yikes.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

Julia Wicker and Penny23 calling her his soul mate, tbh.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Julia and Penny, although Quentin is fun just because I understand his depression/anxiety. I think I just love Penny's addiction to cynicism and sarcasm that hides his softie heart lol. And Jules I could talk about for dayss

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

Hm, well to no one's surprise, Julia's goddess arc to timeline 23 and onward.

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

I'm working on the third chapter of my timeline23 wickodi dabbles, but mainly focusing on my 39graves timeline fic

How long is your “to do list”?

ugh, well I still have to finish other fandoms stuff, so fairly long?

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

Probably the dabbles, just because I think I write better in Penny's voice than others

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

Maybe the first one I wrote that was post finale, or the Filia one. Most of my Shadowhunters and TVD stuff went over well.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

I usually start out scripting dialogue to get the mood for the scene and then add detail from there.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

Generally, it doesn't at all. I'll write Canon concurrent fics during season or off season, or entirely different au’s

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

Probably the Filia one. It was hard for me to grasp her voice, and I'm not sure I did. it was definitely an experiment

Are there any themes or tropes that you particularly like to explore in your writing?

Well, with other fantasy fandoms I generally like “human” Au's, or role reversal. I generally just cover slow burn romance.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Too many to list! For the Magicians fandom though, Rays, Ohmarqueliot, Under-the-shady-tree… I know I'm forgetting some

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

I'm trying to get through Children of Blood and Bone, although I might unwillingly read Queen of Air and Darkness

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Don't rely on pronouns and physically draw a scene based on the setting you've described… it's hard to follow though

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about over using in your work?

pronouns

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

Aghhh. Self insert Harry Potter fic

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? self edit

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? comments

Smut, Fluff or Angst? angst

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? slow burn

Favourite season? Favourite episode? season 3

Favourite book(The Magicians books)? Slaughterhouse 5, haven't read the magicians books yet

Three favourite words? yikes, I'm not sure. I'm not that fancy.

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

#the magicians #the magicians rec center #author spotlight #author spotlight: wickodi

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themagiciansreccenter · 6 years

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Author Spotlight @cldfiredrgn

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

I’m cldfiredrgn on Tumblr, Coldfiredragon on ao3

Well, I’m in my early-thirties. College consisted of a combination of political science, english, and psychology. (not a combination I’d recommend unless you want to take it to grad level or beyond), though it is useful for writing. I’m a gamer who grew up on comics and anime. I’m an all around geek who listens to EDM, electro industrial, jazz, electro-swing, and punk. We have 2 cats, no kids, and a spare bedroom dedicated to our toy collection.

How long have you been writing for?

I started posting fic in high school. I wrote a few original pieces for 4-H projects, because mom wanted me to participate but I wasn’t the ‘get dirty/hands on’ kind of kid. I made it to state one year for my writing. I floored the regional judges with something that was more anime inspired and adult, they loved it.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

Watching the first episode, shortly before season 2 premiered, and my jaw hitting the floor that Quentin and Eliot seemed to be flirting! I was hooked from the first episode. I hadn’t written anything in a couple of years. It was so nice to have a fandom again.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Eliot and Quentin, but Eliot is the character that hooked me. I kinda share his backstory. I’m the rural farm kid from a heavily Christian family who got out. Thankfully I still have a good relationship with my parents.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

I prefer either season 1, or season 3. I’m absolutely dreading when ‘Shoulder to Shoulder With You’ reaches season 2 material and having to fit Eliot’s season 2 arc into that universe.

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

I’m also working on ‘Shoulder to Shoulder’ (StS). It’s my monster and my baby! We crossed 100,000 words together 2 chapters ago. Hmm, an idea about it? Well, I hate to give too much away, but a few things are coming up.

My version of the Virgo blade storyline is just a few chapters away! The resolution of that will be the end of the current ‘Fall’ arc….

Wait? You still want a Spoiler? I can I can give you one… Arc 3 is titled ‘The Chatwins’ and will focus on the group finding out about the time-loops and the roles that Jane and Martin play in their lives. Then they are off to Fillory!

How long is your “to do list”?

I have a lot of ideas on the back burner. Officially though:

The next chapter of my Queliot soulmate AU -- ‘My Hands Pass Through’

Never Ending StS chapters

My Trials project, which I’m not 100% decided on yet.

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

“Shoulder to Shoulder With You’ is the story I’ve put the most work into ever. It has to be my favorite or I couldn’t continue it. I love the universe. I love how it’s already diverged from canon, I love where it goes and how I’ve been able to put my own spin on the arcs from the show so they will be fresh for readers of my story. Quentin and Eliot, the whole group, they continue to surprise me as the story evolves.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

‘All Part of the Deal’ The summary doesn’t do it justice. The fic started as a response to a kink meme but truly is an exploration of Eliot’s relationship to his telekinesis. It explores how he quietly hates his powers even as he clings to them because they’ve given him the only family and home he’s ever had. It’s also a subtle commentary on his addiction and how he’s sought out this thing that he thinks he needs, even if inherently destructive.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

Once I write something it tends to be written. I edit and tweak it once its on paper, but the majority of major edits are mental. I’ll think through a series of events a dozen times but the version that gets typed is usually the version I adhere to.

If something gets deleted on accident it tends to be gone. I’m never as happy with a document I have to recreate from scratch as I was with the original.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I write during the season and all through the hiatus. With ‘StS’ I watched season 3 while constantly editing how the events would shift the story. StS is at its core an alternate 40th loop, so the general rule of thumb has been ‘if it happens in the show, then some version of it will happen in StS’

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

“Shoulder to Shoulder’ because it has so many moving parts now. Every change I make to canon is a domino effect. Penny and Alice dating now effects Penny’s arc with Kady and Julia later, Eliot dating Quentin before Fillory impacts his ‘marriage’ arc(s). I had to completely change what happens with Loria because he and Idri would never end up engaged. I had to re-arrange who found certain keys because certain people are in different places. It’s a never ending cycle of cause and effect.

Are there any themes or tropes that you like particularly like to explore in your writing?

I like to use music when I can. I have a weird relationship to water and rain. I love the theme of soul-mates and chosen family. Exploring emotion is something I embrace, as most of you know I’m a great lover of angst.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Lev obviously inspired me. He gave me my current fandom, but he’s inspired my personal writing too. I love how he can breeze through large amounts of time in a few paragraphs. Herman Wouk is inspirational because of his scale. ‘The Winds of War’ and “War and Remembrance’ managed to put the reader into every phase and conflict of World War II.

J.K. Rowling, I was a huge Harry Potter fan writer for a long time.

Alan Moore for ‘Watchmen’ Dozens of comic writers

C.S. Friedman’s ‘Coldfire Trilogy’ (where my main username draws influence)

Fanfic writers: EdgarAllanCat ( @goddessjuliawicker) Lexalicious70 ( @all-hale-eliot) , Rays ( @under-the-shady-tree) @gwendolynflight, @oneeyeddestroyer, Sullyandlulu ( @highestkingbambi) , LadySilviana, @highkingfen , @echomoon , dozens of others. This has been the best fandom I’ve ever been part of, all of you make it amazing!

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

I devour fanfic! I’m finishing ‘The Magicians Land’ I follow real world news despite how depressing it is.

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

That my whole body of work was horrible. I wrote for a comics fandom for several years, and found a rant post on a blog site that tore a lot of what I did to shreds, but ultimately at lot of points they made were valid. I wrote volume instead of quality, to fill challenge tables with poorly executed AU scenarios. They weren’t good, they were dark for the sake of the challenge prompts. It made me stop for a while, and get back into writing with focused projects.

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about over using in your work?

I’m sure there are, and you guys probably know them better than I do.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

It was a Gundam Wing fic, and I don’t.

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? -- Self-edit with an editing program

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? -- Comments

Smut, Fluff or Angst? -- Angst

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? -- Slow Burn

Favourite season? -- 3

Favourite episode? -- ‘A Life In a Day’’

Favourite book(The Magicians Books)? - 'The Magicians'

Three favourite words? ‘Symmetry, cacophony, sisyphean

Anything you want to add?

My ask box is always open, I love to talk about my writing, and I love user feedback

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

#author spotlight #author spotlight: coldfiredragon #the magicians rec center

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