This image is apropos of exactly nothing except a source of great amusement around here, the wonderful BirdBuddy, which sends us pictures and videos of the denizens of our bird feeder. All we have to do is to supply bird feed and sunlight, and we get a series of pretty darn funny pics.

No. Today, I’d like to talk about a new writing direction I’m thinking about, and for which I busted out a short on a grey and gloomy day.

You guys know I’ve struggled lately; it’s been a real pain. But it’s OK; that’s life. I’ve taken some steps to alleviate my funk—this has helped. Yesterday, while imagining my extracurricular project, I suddenly wanted to write. The weather outside of my window seat was ghastly. It looked like a winter sunset at 1400—gray and sodden. Not the thing to lighten up one’s mood, but we went for a long walk, anyway. Movement and exercise are important. 

Upon return, I mulled over a potential future project. I had an idea. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the Roman Empire. This is partially due to Doc Wetsman’s books and “Pax,” an excellent non-fiction by Holland. In addition, thanks to my distant bud, I’ve been mulling over possibilities in fantasy and alt-history. 

I started “Pax” because I needed a little help with antiquity. This has never been a strong part of my knowledge base. I’m OK with the broad strokes of history, but I tend to focus on certain eras. Therefore, some reading was a must. I don’t adore the Roman era or think it was some ideal part of history. Actually, the times we’re living in are MUCH better than the era around the birth of Christ. 

Even deep within the “civilized” world at the time, a party of soldiers or bandits raiding a homestead for plunder and rapine was routine enough to be utterly unnoteworthy. Anybody could be enslaved for the slightest reason. Slaves and criminals were crucified. Crowds screamed in pleasure at the sight of hundreds meeting gristly ends, along with any wild animal that could be found. Entire regions were put to the sword, and no one batted an eye.

This was Rome and the Pax Romana. The “Peace of Rome” was frequently the peace of the grave, and those who idealize it are fools. 

However, it’s fascinating. Also, I guess the Roman Empire was better than squatting in some miserable mud hut and selecting an unpopular villager for the annual sacrifice to the sun. This happened every year around what we know as Christmas (The Church was GREAT about stealing ancient holy-days; see Ostara, otherwise known as Easter. Her symbol, the fertility goddess, was the rabbit.)

Like it or not, we still see the modern world through our ancestor’s eyes. Those muddy villagers who kept pigs in their huts? Yeah, that was us. The centurion who shrugged and put the slave on a cross? Both the crucifer and the crucified, us, too. The person who crouched and knapped flint by the treacherous Great Lake? Us. The courtesan in the Eternal City? Us. The long, sun-blackened, and endless pursuer of game, who could run a gazelle into exhaustion, us as well, somewhere back there. 

These are our archetypes. They inform us today, whether we like it or not. I think this is what draws people to fantasy. Times in our deep past, when the fae were real, and owls carried the spirits of the dead. We want to touch those dark and endless forests as we recline on our nice warm couches. We want to shiver in the cold, while wrapped in fell dread. We wish to chant with our cousins (who were also our mates) while passing the horn filled with holy-day mead as the Chosen roasts on the pyre. A part of us wishes to cry havoc and unleash the dogs of war. 

Unfortunately, we still have those desires in a time when war could easily mean our extinction. This creates real problems. 

We are, for the most part, divorced from the reality of mortal, daily danger. This is why this sort of fiction is so popular. It’s an escape to a time when our ancestors scoured the woods in search of anything edible, but they wouldn’t touch a fairy ring of delicious mushrooms; for the revenge of the fae would be dreadful. 

Better to starve.

With this in mind, I created a writing sample yesterday. It was a joy to write, but I won’t publish it here. It lets too many cats from the bag; but it was great fun, my first foray into fantasy, that most popular of genres. It’s just below romance—laughs, count me out, there. Not that I don’t enjoy a good love story, I do. It’s just that I cede the field to those with more talent. See Outlander and Bridgerton, and their respective, juicy successes. 

When our current reality descends into madness, bleakness, and actual horror, it’s incumbent upon those of us in the “creative class” to provide escape. Yesterday, I provided my own.

Cheers,

J