[rant] In Troubled Times: Still Here, Still Holding on to Hope

I first posted this in August, 2019. I'm still here, still holding on to hope. We aren't all crazy or hopeless or overwhelmed on the same day. When events are too much, we can borrow a bit of courage from one another.

Following the 2016 election, I posted a series of essays called “In Troubled Times.” I wrote about despair, fear, anger, powerlessness, and determination. Then the initial fervor faded. Exhaustion set in for me as well as for so many others. Emotional exhaustion. Spiritual exhaustion. But the constant, increasingly vitriolic litany of hate and fear, as well as the assaults on democratic norms and civil liberties not only continued, it escalated.

What is to be done in the face of such viciousness, such disregard for human rights and dignity? Such an assault upon clean and air water, endangered species, and the climate of planet we depend on for our lives? How do we preserve what we value, so that in resisting we do not become the enemy?

I don’t know what the most effective strategy of resistance is. Social media abounds in calls to action. I do know that there are many possible paths forward and that not every one way is right for every person. Not everyone can organize a protest march (think of five million protesters in front of the White House; think of a national strike that brings the nation’s businesses to a halt). I find myself remembering activist times in my own past.

I came of age during the Civil Rights Movement and the Viet Nam war resistance (and, later, the women’s rights movement of the 1970s). I wore my hair long, donned love beads, and marched in a gazillion rallies. Those memories frequently rise to my mind now. In particular, I remember how frustrated I got about ending the Viet Nam war. In 1967, I joined the crowd of 100,000 protesters in San Francisco. I wrote letters, painted posters, and so forth. And for a time, it seemed nothing we did made any difference. My friends still got drafted and not all of them made it home, and those that did were wounded in ways I couldn’t understand. Others ended up as Canadians. I gave up hope that the senseless carnage would ever end.

But it did. And in retrospect, all that marching and chanting and singing and letter-writing turned out to be important. The enduring lesson for me is that I must do what I feel called to do at the moment, over and over again, different things at different times, never attempt to second-guess history, and especially never give in to despair. Enough tiny pebbles rolling down a slope create a landslide.

My first political memories date back to the 1950s, when I saw my union-organizer father 

marching in a picket line. The 1950s were a terrifying time for a lot of folks. For my family, it was because my parents were active in their respective unions, and both had been members of “the Party” in the 1930s. My father was fired from his job on a pretext and soon became the target of a formal Federal investigation. (He’d been under FBI surveillance since 1942.) The Department of Justice filed a lawsuit to take away his naturalized citizenship. It was a time of incredible fear: people committed suicide or “went underground” (now we call it “off the grid”) by living in safe houses and using only cash. Some of our relatives did that, and our home became one of those havens. The DoJ suit was dismissed in 1961, although the FBI continued secretly watching my father until his death in 1974. I should add that it is so odd to me to regard that bureau as protecting democracy in current times, after their 1984-like behavior in the 1950s and beyond.

The point of all this is not that my family had a hard time. Lots of families had a hard time. Lots more are having an unbelievably hard, terrifying, horrific time today. The point is that we got through it. Not unscarred -- it’s still excruciatingly difficult for me to call attention to myself by political activism. My parents never stopped working for a better, more just and loving world. They never lost hope.

Book Review: An Ambitious New Novel from Valerie Valdes

Where Peace Is Lost, by Valerie Valdes (Harper Voyager)

I am of two minds about this new space fantasy by Valerie Valdes. On the one hand, I loved her previous novels, delightful, supersonic-paced space adventures with  fascinating and occasionally romantic relationships between humans and aliens. Smooth prose and colorful characters teamed up with complex, long-view plots with action reversals and quieter moments. Where Peace Is Lost is more ambitious, with higher stakes and deeper interpersonal and inner conflicts. The book opens with a sympathetic character with a mysterious past, one that is revealed in tantalizing hints. Kel Garda appears to be just another refugee living on the edge of an isolated star system. Her secrecy breaks down with the arriveal of a long-dormant war machine, suddenly reactivated. It is designed to carve a swath of devastation that will destroy an entire ecology and displace thousands of people, possibly killing every sentient creature on the planet. Kel and a local friend team up with a pair of fortune hunters who claim to be able to disable the machine. Of course, the strangers are not what they seem, either.

As Kel’s past comes to the surface, so does that of one of the strangers. At this point, the book veers from space adventure featuring a character with a conflicted past to an “enemies to lovers” romance. The transition is uneven, approaching and then retreating from the depth of reconciliation required not only between them but within each. Valdes handled interspecies romance in her previous novels so well, I found the retreat into formulaic “love conquers all” jarring.

For all my difficulties with the love story, Where Peace Is Lost is a grand adventure with a huge canvas, a worthy addition to Valdes’s bibliography. Perhaps the best part are the poetic lines from Kel’s past:

Where peace is lost, may we find it.

Where peace is broken, may we mend it.

Where we go, may peace follow.

Where we fall, may peace rise.

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Another rave review of The Laran Gambit!

"Wonderful back story on establishing the tower! True to the spirit of Darkover and all of its cultures and the change in personal values." --Nikki K, Amazon reader

Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/5xmpd54b
Barnes and Noble: https://tinyurl.com/2ccwve44
Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/2edrfxhj
Apple: https://tinyurl.com/23c96wjs
Or in print at your local bookstore

In Troubled Times: How Stories Save Us

I first posted this in August, 2021. Hold on to hope!

Stories can heal and transform us. They can also become beacons of hope.

Quite a few years ago, when I was going through a difficult personal time, I came across a book about the inherent healing power of telling our stories. No matter how scattered or flawed our lives may appear, as we tell our stories, we gain something. Patterns emerge from seeming chaos, and our lives begin to make sense. It may be dreadful, agonizing sense, but even tragedies have order and consequence. I found that over time, the way I told my story changed, reflecting my recovery process and new insight.

The mirror side of story-telling is story-listening. While a confidential diary or journal can be highly useful, having someone hear our words can be transformative, especially if all that person does is listening. Not judging, not analyzing, not wondering how to respond, just taking in our words, a silent partner on our journey. Often we feel less alone in retrospect, no matter how isolated and desperate we might have been at the time. Additionally, a compassionate listener invites us to be kinder with ourselves.

Perhaps this is how Twelve Step programs work, apart from any Higher Power mysticism or Steps: that by simply hearing our own voices relate our histories, and having the experience of being heard, we open the door to viewing ourselves through the lens of new possibilities.

Personal storytelling calls for discretion, of course. Although it may be true that “we are only as sick as our secrets,” casually (or not-so-casually) violating a confidence from someone else is not the same as choosing to include the listener in our own private lives. Some of us never learned healthy boundaries about what is safe to share, and when, and with whom. We, or others, can be harmed by indiscriminate broadcasting of embarrassing, illegal, or otherwise sensitive information. The kind of storytelling I’m talking about, on the other hand, is as much about the journey as it is the facts.

Stories can get us through dark times by giving us hope and inspiring empathy. Stories work by creating a bond between the narrator or central character and the listener/reader. Who wants to read a story about a person you care nothing about? And if that appealing character has a different history or journey, or learns something the reader never experienced, so much the better. We accompany them into darkness and out again.

Author Interview: Dave Smeds

From lands distant or nearby, familiar or utterly strange, historical or imaginary, from ancient times to the Belle Époque comes a treasury of luscious, elegant, romantic fantasy. Come with us on a journey through time and across boundaries, inspired by the longings of the heart and the courage residing in even the meekest person.

I met Dave Smeds in the early years of my writing career through the pages of the early volumes of Sword and Sorceress, in which we each had stories. We discovered a shared background in martial arts, as well. His beautiful designs grace the covers of many of the anthologies I've edited, including this one.

Deborah J. Ross: Tell us a little about yourself.  How did you come to be a writer?

Dave Smeds: One way to put it is that it was an entirely natural thing. I did a lot of reading as a kid, and wanted to create my own stuff. The only thing as alluring as writing fiction was to be a comic book artist, but while I took some steps in that direction and still do make some of my income as an artist, I just wasn’t fast enough or good enough to realize that particular pipe dream. Your question, though, makes me aware of how generational my choice was. I was born in the mid-1950s. In my youth I didn’t have the distraction of iphones and cable channels and the World Wide Web. Heck, at first, there wasn’t even any color on the television programs I watched. My leisure entertainment came in the form of paperbacks, print magazines, and comic books. Those outlets were a big deal back then to the whole society in terms of providing sustaining creative entertainment and edification. I wanted to be part of that big deal. I wonder if I would have headed in that direction if I had been part of the millennial generation. I think the answer would probably be no.

DJR: What inspired your story in Lace and Blade 5?

DS: The theme of the series is along the lines of “swashbuckling tales of romance” and of course I pointed my muse in that direction, but when it comes to the Lace and Blade series, my muse has pretty consistently been a contrary wench. I saw an image in my mind of the lone adventurer wandering the land. That seemed pretty spot-on in terms of theme, but when the fellow came completely into view I saw that he was the pilot of a gondola on a river, à la Charon on the River Styx if only Charon had possessed sex appeal and if only the river weren’t so singular of purpose. My plan of course was for the story to involve a romance. That element is in fact in there in the final draft, but to my surprise it is unconsummated, which is not one of my usual modes.

Once I had the idea of using a river as a setting, I’m afraid I had no choice but to go forward. The Kings River of the southern San Joaquin Valley runs along the edge of the farm where I grew up. I spent many an hour on that waterway, floating on tractor inner tubes below the bluffs and oak trees. The water was snow melt from the High Sierra so it was bracing even in July, but that was great because the air temperature of a Fresno County day in July is usually above a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I also really appreciated the safety aspect. If you get a tired of swimming when you’re in the middle of a lake, you’re screwed. If you get tired on a river, just tread water for a few moments and the current will carry you to the bank and you don’t have to drown after all.

In Times of War: A Flood of Horrific News

This was originally posted in April, 2022, as the Russian invasion of Ukraine was getting underway. It seems just as urgent now. 

After the 2016 Presidential election, I wrote a series of blog posts, “In Troubled Times.” In them I explored my evolving feelings of disbelief, shock, horror, despair, fury, and rising determination. “Nevertheless, She Persisted” became our mantra. I hoped that my words provided solace and inspiration to others, and the process of putting them down did for me.

Now we face new, often overwhelming challenges to sanity. I find myself reacting to the news of the war in Ukraine, and yet being unable to look away. Then my friend, Jaym Gates, wrote this on her Facebook page, posted here with her permission. 

Be really careful on social media for the next few days, friends. A lot of footage of Russian Federation war crimes, torture, rape, and murder just came out from Mariupol and other occupied cities. It is *horrific.* While it needs to be seen, shared, and remembered, it is going to be extremely traumatic to engage with.

If you're a survivor of abuse or trauma, in particular, please be especially careful.

And send support to Ukraine if you can. What's happening there is awful beyond words.

 My daughter, a psychology student, spotted this article by Heather Kelly in the Washington Post: How to stay up-to-date on terrible news without burning out.

It can be hard to look away from your phone and live your life while terrible events are unfolding, Kelly writes. There’s an unrelenting flow of images, videos and graphic updates out of Ukraine, filling social media, messaging apps and news sites.

It’s important to stay informed, engaged and even outraged. But it’s also important to pay attention to our own limits and mental health by taking breaks, looking for signs of burnout and consuming news in the smartest way possible.

That means setting some ground rules for the main portal connecting us to nonstop tragedy: our phones [or computers]. Here are some suggestions:

1.       Give yourself permission to take a break

It is okay to hit pause on the doom and go live your life, whether that means going outside with the kids or just losing yourself on the silly side of TikTok. It’s necessary for everyone’s mental health.

2.      Take time for self-care

A break is not a few minutes away from Twitter. Start with real breaks of at least 30 minutes to an hour so that your brain has time to come down from what you were last watching or reading. Ideally, you’ll put your phone down and take a technology break … or do some activities known to help with stress reduction, including exercise, mindfulness and meditation, journaling, engaging in hobbies and other activities you enjoy, spending time with family and friends, and doing faith-based activities if you practice.

3.      Change your news habits

Disinformation like propaganda is designed to capture your attention and elicit strong emotions, which can contribute to any anxiety you’re already feeling. Instead, stick with reputable sources. If you can wait, opt for deeply reported stories at the end of the day over constant smaller updates. Avoid using social media for news, but if you do, follow sources and people that contribute to your understanding of an issue rather than those that just generate more outrage.

4.      View your phone in black and white

In your smartphone’s accessibility settings there is an option to make the screen black and white instead of color. Some studies have indicated that turning this on leads to less screen time.

5.      Know when to ask for help

Look for signs that you are burned out or experiencing serious anxiety. First, consider whether you’re predisposed to reacting strongly to a particular issue. Anyone who has personally dealt with similar trauma or war in the past might find constant vivid social media posts about Ukraine to be triggering. [Italics mine.]

 

In conclusion: be kind to yourself, friends. Practice healthy boundaries and filters, and good self-care. Ask for help, whether it’s a friend or family member screening news for triggers, or a companion on a hike through the redwoods. Find safe people to reach out to. I'll be writing more about our journey together.

 

Shakespeare on Tyrants: Richard II and Drumpf

 

What Shakespeare revealed about the chaotic reign of Richard III – and why the play still resonates in the age of Donald Trump

In this circa 1754 illustration, two women scold Richard III in Shakespeare’s play. Universal History Archive/Getty Images)

by David Sterling Brown, Trinity College

Written around 1592, William Shakespeare’s play “Richard III” follows the reign of England’s infamous monarch and charts the path of a charismatic, cunning figure.

As Shakespeare depicts the king’s reign from June 1483 to August 1485, Richard III’s kingdom was wrought with chaos, confusion and corruption that fueled civil conflict in England.

As a scholar of Shakespeare, I first thought about Richard III and his similarities with Donald Trump after the latter’s debate with President Joe Biden in June 2024. Those similarities – and Shakespeare’s depictions – became even clearer after Trump’s election in November 2024.

Shakespeare’s play highlights the flawed character of a man who wanted to be, in modern terms, a dictator, someone who could do whatever he pleased without any consequences.

In his 1964 essay, “Why I Stopped Hating Shakespeare,” writer James Baldwin concluded that Shakespeare found poetry “in the lives of people” by knowing “that whatever was happening to anyone was happening to him.”

“It is said that Shakespeare’s time was easier than ours, but I doubt it,” Baldwin wrote. “No time can be easy if one is living through it.”

An undated portrait of Richard III. Universal History Archive/Getty Images

A villain?

In Act 2, Scene 3 of Shakespeare’s play, a common citizen says Richard is “full of danger.”

“Woe to the land that’s govern’d by a child,” the citizen further warned.

Beyond hiring murderers to kill his own brother, Shakespeare’s Richard was keen on belittling and distancing himself from people whom he viewed as being not loyal or being in his way – including his wife, Anne.

To clear the way for him to marry his brother’s daughter – his niece Elizabeth – Richard spread what now would be called fake news. In the play, he tells his loyalists “to rumor it abroad that Anne, my wife, is very grievously sick” and “likely to die.”

Richard then poetically reveals her death: “Anne my wife hath bid this world goodnight.”

Yet, before her death, Anne has a sad realization: “Never yet one hour in Richard’s bed / Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep.”

That sentiment is echoed by Richard’s mother, the Duchess of York, who regrets not strangling “damned” Richard while he was in her “accursed womb.”

As Shakespeare depicts him, Richard III was a self-centered political figure who first appears alone on stage, determined to prove himself a villain.

In Richard’s opening speech, he even says that in order to become king, he will manipulate his own brothers George, the Duke of Clarence, and King Edward IV, “in deadly hate, the one against the other.”

But as his villainous crimes mount up, Richard shares a rare moment of self-awareness: “But I am in / So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin.”

Shakespeare’s Richard III and Trump

Book Review: Another Gem from Ann Leckie

Translation State, by Ann Leckie (Orbit)

Ann Leckie is a jewel of modern science fiction. Her worldbuilding and characters are consistently original, nuanced, deeply resonant, and well thought-out. To describe the plot and premises of Translation State is to ignore her masterful layering of themes and her ability to create truly relatable alien characters.

This story centers on three characters:  Enae, a reluctant diplomat tasked with hunting down a fugitive who has been missing for over 200 years; Reet, an adopted mechanic who is desperate to learn about his genetic roots to explain why he operates so differently from those around him. And Qven, created to be a Presger translator, an intermediary between the dangerous—as in world-destroying—Presger and human civilization. The Presger are truly alien, and it’s only through a centuries-old Treaty and the translators that they haven’t inadvertently destroyed entire systems of inhabited worlds.

Presger translators are far from benign; in their formative stages, for example. they think nothing of vivisecting or slaughtering their age-mates. They must be taught human customs, everything from wearing clothes, making small talk, drinking tea, and sitting on furniture to not casually eating one another. Qven is no exception, and Reet very well may be at least part translator, although his adopted parents have instilled human values in him.

Leckie manages to make both characters, as well as the endearing Enae, sympathetic, understandable, and even upon occasion admirable. She introduces Enae first, inviting the reader into a complex universe through a single relatable character. I had a harder time with Reet initially, but by the time it was clear the story lines would merge, the deeper themes of consent, becoming fully oneself, loving another as I-Thou, and the meaning of being human had me hooked. I loved Leckie’s subtle hand in conveying sophisticated, often bizzare cultural conventions without a trace of ramming them down the reader’s throat.

Leckie also portrays gender conventions in ways that are occasionally humorous—like the way the Imperial Radch insist on using “she” for everyone, but Reet keeps correcting them, “I’m a he!” and Qven, for the first time given a choice, insists on being an “e” (and, after seeing the unconditional love and support of Reet’s three moms, makes a conscious choice to become human).

Highly recommended.

 

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Book Review: Nothing New in Camelot

 The Cleaving, by Juliet E. Mckenna (Angry Robot)

I was initially intrigued by the description of this book as being a “retelling that follows the tangled stories of four women: Nimue, Ygraine, Morgana, and Guinevere, as they fight to control their own destinies amid the wars and rivalries that will determine the destiny of Britain.” It began auspiciously enough, from the viewpoint of Nimue, who hides her magical abilities while in her service to Queen Ygraine. The story unfolded with the ascendency of Uther Pendragon and his schemes to unite Britain under his rule and to seduce Ygraine and father Arthur. Beat after emotional beat intensified my disappointment as I discovered very little that was fresh and new. Instead of being a ground-breaking reinterpretation of the Arthurian story cycle in the footsteps of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s groundbreaking The Mists of Avalon (1984), The Cleaving read as a tepid retelling of a story we all know from having seen The Sword in the Stone.  We know Uther is going to sleep with Ygraine (although I found the rape scene gratuitously violent), just as we know Arthur is going to pull the sword out of the stone (and survive all the fights he gets into).

Without dramatic suspense to keep me reading, I found the characters inconsistent, acting only to serve the needs of a pre-determined plot, and often downright annoying. Nimue came across as passive-aggressive, without a meaningful goal that she consistently strives for; she reacts rather than initiates. Uther was one-dimensional as a blustering bully. Ygraine mopes around, a paralyzed victim whose meaning in life seems to be her daughters (not Arthur). Merlin’s sole care is for the nebulous “future of Britain,” although he meddles freely in the lives of others without thinking through the consequences. As for Arthur, he’s a tantrum-prone brat with very little noble about him.

Pedestrian prose and inconsistent motivation would be less detrimental to a more original vision. If you’re a dedicated fan of Le Morte d’Arthur and don’t mind a story that adds little to the established literature, give this one a try.

Music: The Danish String Quartet

 Sometimes I hear a piece of music that makes the entire day better. This one feels like strolling through sunshine and dappled shade.

Book Review: Saving the Faerie Prince

 Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales, by Heather Fawcett (Del Rey)

I’m an unabashed fan of Heather Fawcett’s “Emily Wilde” series. Falling loosely in the genre of “Victorian lady scholar-adventurer” tales, these stories combine the best of the intrepid, self-reliant heroine who falls in love despite her better judgment with a passion for academic inquiry and a penchant for getting into trouble. Emily Wilde is a professor of dryadology, that is, the study of all things Fae, which in this world are real if often misunderstood and hidden. In previous adventures, she butted heads with fellow scholar, dashing and mercurial Wendell Bambleby, who turned out to be a Faerie prince in exile.  Discovering Wendell’s identity wasn’t enough, however. Emily found herself called upon to rescue him from poisoning by his evil stepmother and then to help restore him to his magical realm. Now she’s finally agreed to his marriage proposal despite all the folkloric warnings about how inconstant and lethal the courtly faw can be. She doesn’t know if she can truly trust him to remain himself once he’s back on the throne. But she trusts her own heart and the truths that underlie the stories whose study is her life’s work. None of this has prepared her for Wendell’s kingdom or the role she must soon play as its queen. As transcendently beautiful as this realm is, darkness stirs in the form of the stepmother’s parting revenge. The only way to save the realm and its people is for Wendell to sacrifice himself—which Emily refuses to consider as an option. Wendell may have other ideas.

This third volume in the series is every bit as captivating as the earlier ones, but it seemed to me that the characters were deeper and more complex, their inner conflicts more finely drawn. The questions have shifted from “Will he/won’t he?” and “Will she/won’t she?” to “What will he give to save his world and how will she save him from his better nature?” As before, the answer lies in the depths of folklore, the resonant truths that make these stories told again and again over generations. Those depths speak as powerfully to modern readers of Fawcett’s books as they do to the folk inhabiting them.

Truly a joy to read and savor.

 

Happy New Year: 2019 Intentions, Goals, and Wishes

I'm not big on resolutions, New Year's or otherwise. More often than not, all they do is set me up to fail or put me in competition with others, and who needs that? However, I do see a great deal of value in taking some time to clarify where I'm going in my life, if it's where I want to be going, and what I'd like to see different.

Years (as in, decades) ago, a friend suggested making a list of goals instead of resolutions, and to break them down into 1-year, 5-year, 10-year, and lifetime goals. I did that for quite a while, and I still have the notebook I kept them in. It's fascinating to look back at what I thought I wanted, 30 years ago -- what I have achieved, what I no longer want, and what is no longer possible.

Along the way, I realized that some of these things were within my power to achieve, but others were not. I might long for them, but I could not bring them about, or not entirely by my own efforts. For instance, finishing a novel or studying Hebrew are things I can choose to do, but my children being happy, however much I might desire to see that come about, is not something I myself can create. These things are wishes, not goals. Of course, many things are both. On my list is to write a work of enduring value -- I can write the best stories that are in me, but how they are received and how they endure the test of time is another matter entirely. I have no say over that.

For 2007, the year I turned 60:

1 year goals:

Finish (a specific book I was working on)

Transfer family videos to DVD

Celebrate becoming a crone

5 year goals:

Keep writing good stuff

10 years/lifetime:

Be active and happy

Do something activist and outrageous

As I wrote down goals and wishes, year after year, I found that they changed in other ways. The specifics tended to be resolved or discarded, but things emerged that were more general and had more to do with quality and spirit than measurable achievements. An example -- writing something that would speak to people long after I'm gone as opposed to selling a novel or selling a particular novel -- shows this change. The farther out in time the goals/wishes, the less they resembled "resolutions." I've started to think of them as intentions instead.

Yet, the universe does not cooperate with our best intentions. I can wish for and intend to have a year that is one way but get presented with situations and challenges I had no way of anticipating and end up with something quite different, marvelous or heart-breaking. Part of the shift from resolutions to intentions is the introduction of flexibility, of a suppleness of response to whatever life brings. Life is not limited by my imagination (or my fears). It is an adventure, not a fixed syllabus.

For 2019, the year I turned 72, my intentions are:

1 year intentions:

Write well most days

Exercise well most days

Make music most days

Let the people I love know how precious they are to me

5 years/10 years/lifetime:

Keep writing good stuff

Live a happy life

Be of service to others

My wishes are:

A more compassionate world

A return to political sanity

Hope for the devastation of global warming

Saving the most vulnerable people from poverty and climate change

Now I am 77 and as we enter the treacherous waters of 2025, not much has changed. For me, this affirms a true discernment of how I wish to live my life.

Photo by Cleo Sanda (1962-2012), may her memory be for a blessing.