B-book or E-book?

So what do you think . . . are e-books "real" books?

This question jumped out at me a few days ago as I was reading aloud to my son, an avid Rick Riordan fan (thanks to me, an equally avid fan), from his latest Percy Jackson novel, The Mark of Athena. I'd already read the entire book the day after it was released last October, but now my son and I are going through it together a few chapters each week. We've already read seven Percy Jackson books this way.

(Side note: Parents, read to your children, even when they are old enough to read for themselves. If nothing else, it will give you something nonthreatening to talk about at the dinner table.)

Reading through the novel a second time, much more slowly and constantly interrupted by my son's questions, I find myself appreciating the finer nuances of Riordan's storytelling. In chapter XXVII two of the heroes encounter a minor Greek god, Achelous, who expresses indignance when they show him their guidebook. Here's the excerpt:

    "You hate . . . books?" Piper asked.
    "Bah!" Achelous's face flushed, turning his blue skin eggplant purple. "That's not a book."
    He pawed the water. A scroll shot from the river like a miniature rocket and landed in front of him. He nudged it open with his hooves. The weathered yellow parchment unfurled, covered with faded Latin script and elaborate hand-drawn pictures.
    "This is a book!" Achelous said. "Oh, the smell of sheepskin! The elegant feel of the scroll unrolling beneath my hooves. You simply can't duplicate it in something like that." He nodded indignantly at the guidebook in Jason's hand. "You young folks today and your newfangled gadgets. Bound pages. Little compact squares of text that are not hoof-friendly. That's a bound book, a b-book, if you must. But it's not a traditional book. It'll never replace the good old-fashioned scroll!"

The first time I read this, I confess, I just raced through it to get on with the plot. But this time I got Riordan's message and began to laugh. Naturally enough, my son asked what was so funny. "Riordan's not really complaining about books," I explained to him. "He's making fun of people who say e-books aren't real books."

We were reading from a b-book, and the twenty or so bookshelves in my home are loaded up with b-books. But last year I purchased a Kindle for every member of the family in the hope that my sons would read more if they were holding an electronic device. So we could just as easily have been reading this particular story in e-book format.

Why weren't we? Why did I shell out $20 for a b-book? Am I just as prejudiced as Achelous?

My own novels came out first in e-book format because I listened to some people who convinced me that this was going to be the new paradigm for publishing. Also, it is very inexpensive to produce and sell an e-book. I can give away free copies without losing anything except opportunity cost. People I know, however, want something with turnable pages. They want to feel the book in their hands. Until I put The Carpenter into a paperback format, I hadn't really written a book. Or had I?

So what do you think . . . are e-books "real" books? Or will they soon go the way of the 8-track and Betamax?

No Place Like Home

There's no place like home. 
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home....
                   --Dorothy Gale

Most of us know the story.  Dorothy isn't happy at home. No one listens to her, life in Kansas is gray and boring, and mean old Miss Gulch wants to have Toto destroyed. So Dorothy runs away. Before she knows what's happening, however, a whirlwind whisks her away to a place she never meant to go --- a place where the problems come in full Technicolor™. She spends the rest of the movie trying to return to Kansas, pursuing one dead-end after another, until finally she realizes that she's had the power all along. She simply needs to want to go home badly enough, and voila! she is back in Auntie Em's loving arms.

Jesus told the same story 1900 years before Frank Baum or MGM thought of it. Luke records the parable in his gospel (Luke 15:11-31). A young man isn't happy at home. Farm life is gray and boring, so he takes his share of the inheritance and goes out into the world to live life on his own terms. Before he knows what's happening, however, a drought and famine drop him in a place he never meant to go --- a real pig sty! He finally realizes that he had it pretty good at home, and voila! he is back in his father's loving arms.


I don't know what goes through your mind when you hear the word "home." For some, it's a warm fuzzy; for others, it's a bit of a downer. There are many people in the world today who have no roof over their heads, no permanent address on file with the post office --- we call these people "homeless." But how many more wake up in the same bed each morning, toss their junk mail in the trash, and wander through the day feeling disconnected from any particular place? How many can be classified, perhaps, as "spiritually homeless"? Dorothy was able to return home; the prodigal son was able to return home; but what about the spiritually homeless? Is it possible to return to a place you've never been?

To be continued....

Ouch

It finally happened. I did something almost right and learned firsthand what it feels like to be stung by a stingray. Not pleasant.

I was lucky (or "blessed" if you prefer the term). The barb didn't set in my flesh so I didn't need a trip to the ER to have it removed. I still had to deal with the pain, though, which was like a wasp sting. Since I was leading a private kayak tour at the time, and didn't want to freak my patrons out, I smiled and made the best of it. Yes, I toughed it out.

The point of this blog is not to describe my pain, however, or praise myself for how I handled the situation. The point is that I did something almost  right and got stung as a result.

When wading in the shallow waters of the Indian River Lagoon, one is advised to do the "Stingray Shuffle." Never never never pick up your feet when you wade in the estuary!  Stingrays have a
reflex that causes their tails to flip up whenever they are stepped on, just as humans will kick anyone who hits them in the kneecap with a hammer.

[Side note: what is up with that particular reflex? What possible purpose can it serve?]

So before letting my patrons get out of the kayaks to explore sandbars, I always instruct them to shuffle their feet and keep their eyes down.  I also demonstrate the technique, giving a little dance lesson.  I sweep the perimeter.  I look for the telltale shape of the stingray and point out any that I see.  As I shuffle near them, they swim away, often too quickly for my patrons to get a glimpse.  Over the past 8 years I have been in the water with dozens of rays and have never even come close to getting stung, because I take the appropriate precautions. None of my patrons has ever gotten stung, because they are wise to follow my instructions.

On this particular tour, however, I messed up.  We were on the sandbar with about twenty rays.  (Usually we see only one or two.)  These rays were everywhere, and they got so used to us that they stopped swimming away when we approached.  We got some excellent photos.  Then it happened. I got so used to the rays that I stopped looking at my feet while I shuffled.  I was talking to my patrons, looking up at them as I shuffled, and I shuffled right into a ray.  I was so close that when he flicked his tail to swim away, he flicked it right into my ankle.

Later, telling my sons about the incident, I started to say, "I was doing everything right, but . . ." when I realized it wasn't true. Yes, I was shuffling, but I wasn't doing everything right or I wouldn't have been stung. I had neglected one thing: I had taken my eyes off the rays.

In life, we need to remember to keep our eyes on the right things.

Brothers

I've been revisiting Brothers, the (unpublished) sequel to The Carpenter, and I am almost ready to release it as an Ebook. Still contemplating a few changes. Stay tuned.

The Prestige

Have you ever seen the movie The Prestige? (If you have, please bear with me as I summarize it.) It is about two magicians in London a hundred years ago, and how they destroy one another in their pursuit of vengeance.  The first magician, who calls himself “Danton,” is a talented showman but he struggles with the total dedication to his art that is necessary in order to be truly successful. His rival is a man named Borden, who is a rotten performer but is totally focused on his art and willing to take life-or-death chances. The movie begins with Borden standing trial for Danton’s murder; apparently, he

Can't Breathe?

Ever feel like you just can't breathe? That things are so overwhelming they're smothering the life out of you? That you desperately need time to stop and take a deep breath, but all you can do is gasp? You're not alone. When it comes to spiritual matters, most of us tend to run a bit short of breath. (That's what the word "spirit" means, actually: breath. You can see it in words like "inspiration" and "respiration.") Sometimes during a race runners develop a "stitch" in their sides, a stabbing pain caused by a lack of oxygen -- maybe it's even happened to you. Did you stop running or push on in spite of the pain?

Theology Is Like a Kayak Trip

God speaks to each of us in slightly different ways, depending on how He wired us. Just as people speak different "love languages," so also people hear God in diverse ways. Myself, I hear Him best through the voice of nature. I also think in metaphors, so God frequently instructs me in life's tougher lessons through what I call "living parables."

I am currently taking a course in basic theology and have been asked to examine how I "do" theology. Here is the metaphor I have chosen to use to illustrate my understanding of the way in which God reveals Himself to me:

Theology is like a kayak trip. (Yes, I know, that is a simile not a metaphor. Work with me, people.)

The water represents my life experiences