This singular moment

As this August sunset unfolded over Winnebago County, Iowa, I was the only person for miles in any direction, and the only person recording this scene with a camera at this place.  There is no other record of this event.  An eternity of sunsets will follow, but this image is the singular record of this one day’s sunset moment at this one place in the heartland.  Is that important?  Would it matter if this one scene had passed unnoticed and unrecorded?  After all, it is always sunset somewhere on the planet, and sunset is nothing more than a happenstance of light source, clouds, and the viewer’s position.  There will be another one tomorrow.  Five minutes after this photograph was made, the sun was gone from this August day.  The long twilight faded and darkness came . . . but the sunset remains.  It is an image of a moment never to be repeated, a threshold at the end of this day which can not be had again.

Q and A with Paul James Zack

I had the distinct pleasure of recently being interviewed by author/artist/Renaissance woman Uvi Poznansky.  We talk about my writing, and in particular, about my novel “An Eternal Melody.”  You can read the interview at Uvi’s blog: Uvi at Blogspot   Be sure to check out Uvi’s Facebook site too.

Our “Mote of Dust”

This is a photo of Earth, as viewed through the rings of Saturn. The image was made by NASA’s Cassini spacecraft, peering over its shoulder toward a home it will never see again. Astronomer Carl Sagan said it best in his 1994 essay “Pale Blue Dot,” which is condensed here: “Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.” (NASA photograph)

Great authors, new links

Please take a quick look at my Library of Links (click above or right).  Some new links have been added featuring people whose creative efforts are worth viewing. 

When the world was young

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a time when many of America’s children gained their education in one-room schoolhouses.  As much a fixture of rural life as the horse and plow, the schoolhouses vanished as the number of farms dwindled, as people migrated to cities and towns, as the agrarian dominance of the country’s workforce passed away.  Most have been torn down, but here and there an isolated and empty schoolhouse remains.  If you listen closely when it is quiet and the wind is just right, you can hear the voices and laughter of children, carefree and young and full of delight at knowing the world was limitless and it belonged to them.  Ogle County, Illinois (left) and Stephenson County, Illinois (right).

Novels with Five-Star Reviews


 

 

 

 

 

 

It is gratifying when readers like my writing and respond with Five-Star Reviews.  Few things are more satisfying than sincere feedback from a reader, and knowing that one of my books or stories touched them in some way.  Both of my novels, An Eternal Melody and The 26th Game, have Five-Star Reviews at Amazon.  You can read about the books, as well as the first chapters of each title by clicking on the links above and at right.  Both books are available in paperback and Kindle ebook versions.  

Sic Transit Gloria

Many years ago one could travel nearly anywhere by train.  The journeys could be long, sometimes involving connections with other trains and different railroads, but the process was reliable.  That era has passed, as impatient travelers of today think only of destination and little of journey.  Railroad stations, the portals at the beginning and end of the train-travel journey, have slowly disappeared from small towns and big cities alike.  Now empty, the stations wait along abandoned tracks for trains that will never arrive. Weeds grow where passengers once stood. The travelers have gone elsewhere and the portals have closed.  Lee County, Illinois.

 

Now Available in Paperback: The 26th Game

My novel “The 26th Game” is ready for reading in paperback.  Click on the links above and right to see what the book is about and to read the first chapter.  “The 26th Game” has received Five-Star Reviews at Amazon:

“An extraordinary story: a tapestry woven with mystery, intrigue, adventure and fascinating characters against a spellbinding metaphysical background with spicy undercurrents–something for everyone.”

“The 26th Game creates a journey that not only allows the reader to enjoy this suspenseful thriller, but also explores the possibilities of humanity’s future. A highly recommended book!”

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE THE 26TH GAME

 

From Music to Words

As a writer of fiction, I am inspired by numerous things.  One of my foremost sources is music, and specifically, movie soundtracks.  Countless times I have donned headphones and immersed myself in movie music from my extensive collection of soundtracks.  YouTube works too.  The scores never fail to create pictures in my mind: settings for stories, images of scenes, even dialogue between characters, whether for short stories or novels.  This makes sense, as movie scores are written to accompany moving visual images.  And of course, the scores do more.  They instill nuance and emotion, mood and depth, energy and passion, to the movies/stories they support.  A movie without music becomes little more than a slide show.

Among the titles in my collection of soundtracks are numerous scores to movies I’ve never seen.  This might seem strange, but if a soundtrack comes from one of my favorite composers of movie music, then there is a high likelihood that it will appeal to me (inspire me) even without having seen the flick.  As well, since I use the scores as inspiration for writing fiction, my subconscious forces of creativity are free to assign any images to a piece of music as I listen, images which can be, and are often, unrelated to those which the score was originally written.  Such is the beauty and versatility of movie music.

I have a long list of movie music maestros that I enjoy, but my favorites are John Barry (Out of Africa, Dances With Wolves), Jerry Goldsmith (Star Trek, The Blue Max), Hans Zimmer (The DaVinci Code, Inception), James Horner (Field of Dreams, Titanic), and John Williams (Raiders of the Lost Ark, Star Wars).  Each of these composers has a long list of film credits on their resume, more than I could include within a reasonably short blog post.  As well, there are other likes: Ennio Morricone, Tangerine Dream, Elmer Bernstein, Alan Silvestri, Basil Poledouris . . . well, this list could go on for some time.  I like to acquire albums of collected movie theme songs too, as these tracks will have a distilled and powerful emotional impact providing a great musical listening experience as well as inspiration for fiction. 

I began my collection of soundtracks with vinyl LPs (making a comeback these days), and it has grown through cassettes, and into CDs.  It’s an eclectic mix, but I lean toward sweeping emotional scores with powerful and dramatic themes.  For me, this kind of music offers a quick translation into images for the page.  Instrumental music from artists such as Yanni also does this, as long as there are no words.  No words!  My inspirational music for fiction can’t contain vocals because the words direct the listener to a specific image, and only in rare cases does this apply to what I’m writing.  I listen to music with vocals for all the usual reasons and I have my preferences there too.  

It’s an inherent paradox: music without words, to create words on the page.

RIP Robert James Waller

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My friend and fellow author Robert James Waller has died at 77. Most will recall him as the author of the best-selling novel “The Bridges of Madison County.” Recognition for this was well-deserved. But Bob was more than that. A true Renaissance man, he was also a talented musician and photographer, as well as a master of economic theory and management. He was a romanticist, even as few people truly understand the meaning of the word. Go well, my friend, along the rivers and the long dusty roads, through the Iowa rains and past the old westbound trains.