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Monday, January 27, 2014

Seek 8: Return to Khaios

Walking and talking, waxing philosophical. Suddenly they hear the shriek of a couatl behind them. They run, but they know they can't outrun couatls. They pass a tree that has been struck by lightning or something, has a huge fissure down the center of it. They climb into the hollow, and Jonah uses the bios shard to close the tree around them. Cracking, popping, little puffs of dust with each snap before darkness surrounded them and they could see only a sliver of light--a single mote-- shining through from a gap in their covering. Hidden in the womb of the tree, robed in perfect night though daylight surrounded them on every side. They clasp hands in the dark, their breath coming in stifled gasps. Patrol comes searching. "We know you're here somewhere. You might as well just come out now, because if you go wasting our time, we might just have to tell our officers that we found you dead in the woods." Tear illuminated on Kara's cheek as

Kara, you have to understand some things about Khaios before we get there. I don't want you to be confused or hurt or anything, because there, people act differently than in Shibboleth or Secra. They're going to treat you differently.
I mean, I think I can handle it. If it's about skin, then I've seen it before, both in Secra and in Shibboleth.
The thing is, in Khaios, they're not going to treat you the same as they treat me. They're going to assume things about you, and most of them won't take the time to find out if those things are true. They're going to think you're something less than you really are, and they're going to hate you for being different than their expectations. I mean, I guess you've seen how the Uppers respond, but people like you--your own people, essentially--are going to hate you for being different and for not wanting to be the same as them. They're going to say things. They're going to call you things, and I don't want it to get to you.
(Maybe here is a good place to have the bird come through the bushes)
There was silence for a moment as the two walk. She thanks him.
Khaios comes into view through the trees. Kara takes off running "Woah! It goes on forever! Why didn't you tell me it was this amazing?"
"Wait, you mean you've never seen Khaios before?"
"No, of course not! We weren't ever supposed to go near it."
"So when I was leaving Khaios--"
"--I was trying to sneak a glimpse, yeah."
"I guess I just don't get how you could have lived so close to it all your life and never seen it."
"Well you of course had an extraordinary knowledge of Secra, even though you apparently lived farther from Secra than the people of Secra did from Khaios."
Jonah's face lit up with a laugh. "I guess you're right. I hadn't really thought about it that way before. I've always kind of seen Khaios as the center of everything, but I guess in the end, whatever world you live in, that's the one that really exists for you."

Seek 7: Randomness

As if he might drown out the clamor of his mind/the silence of his mind

At some point, we have to throw out some dreams to fit the foundations of other aspirations within our minds.
I don't know that I know how to be loved
Oh cursed me! Do I now forget the song that filled my boyish soul? How can I now recall that sacral song that graces me alone in heavy sleep, when Morpheus his works in me has wrought?

Include as little about he govt structure/politics as possible. This is supposed to be about the human heart, the line through the soul.

Ambiguity
Sometimes, there is beauty in confusion
And sometimes poets say the things they say
Simply because they hope the critics will find out what it all really means
So they can move on and live a normal life,
One unencumbered by those emotions and thoughts that make for good poetry--
The depression, the doubt, the loneliness,
The crippling fear that you might just write something
That would change the world.

If we thought we were good at what we are doing, we wouldn't be going to school.

The Lord will cleave the rocks of your wilderness and cause that sweet water shall flow forth from them

Firestorms over the slums, Jonah on the wall overlooking it, his arms reaching up into the infernal heavens, wondering why

Your sympathy for sale

gossamer

Wild landscapes--heath/wilderness, blackened trees, belly of the earth

Jonah and Mara go at one point to a place by the sea. "Can we come back here some day?" / "I don't know if we will ever come back. I don't want to promise anything I can't be sure of." / "I would very much like to come back."
That could be where they go in the end. House upon the cliffs where the winds whisper and the tides crawl up the shore and sink back into the mists.

How am I to navigate these waters dark
To understand htis unintelligible world.
Say, prophesy! Who is it that struck thee?
How am I to hear once more the songs of innocence
Over the clamor of my mind?
How am I to find grace in a graceless, faceless world

Everyone has a past.
"We used to come here to collect wildflowers when we were kids, back before..."

(Someone injured talking to Scout---Simeon or Jonah) "You won't understand this, but you feel like you're just not enough--like there's a part of you missing
-Irony in the fact that that's how she feels all the time b/c of her gender issues

Jonah always calls Scout pal, sport, bud just to annoy him (her).

gods trapped in a mortal shell: stay your hand, Prometheus--here is the fire.

I choose to live in a world of ideas, distilled from reality.

It was as though I thought that by being cold, the vapors of truth might condense upon my being/heart/mind
Pulling everything to it as oxygen to the firestorms over the slums

Red wildflowers charging from the dark earth, springing up form the cracks in the ebony clay

Device allows Simeon to listen in on govt. "Isn't that like, wrong or something?"
"Do you really think that they're not doing the same thing to us right now?"

Fire on the horizon brushed shadow onto the canvas of the sky
The river glowed beneath a starless sky.

Swallowed in the sunbeams
Our long forgotten infancy

Here in my purgatory beneath a copper sun

Sometimes I wish that I could just disappear, be swallowed up in the earth, fade into he gray of twilight--if only I could hide from my inadequacies. Consciousness and conscience are a purgatory.

Rage against the hatred and the un-love.

People listening, all day drowning in their noise

Write about people you don't understand from the point of view of people whom you don't like or understand.

Do you already have life so figured out that you've stopped looking? I can't comprehend your happiness, your peace that passeth all understanding--are you damned all, or am I? Or are both of us? Is your ignorance bliss or is my knowledge sorrow? Or is my sorrow ignorance?
Do I now awake, and dost thou yet slumber? OR do both in Morpheus's embrace now lie, one to rest and one to wander and to wonder? Do dreams dance before my wild eyes, or...

Summon the notes from the ether, bind the chaos of human emotion into lilt and motion, make the soul into a song

But what of the forgotten, the hidden ones, the worn out wanderers, reanimated at the call of dusk to endure a frenzied purgatory, to live out their life sentence ever in the twilight of humanity?

When the night streets are yours and yours alone, and the whole world is yours because no one else showed up

Oh, please pity the dreams--those who long fro sleep but seldom find it: those who even in rare slumber know not how to rest. Envy them their worlds, perhaps, but pity their knowledge and their pain. Look upon the hands raw and blistered by the sun as they pled to the heavens, their knees bruised and bloodied as they bent on the stony ground.

Hall of monuments --corridor of Founders' statues as Jonah walks up to courtroom

Fata Morgana

This world is only a passage to another world (a wandered in a strange land)

Capitalists still can't wrap their heads around the idea that people can be something else and still be happy or even proud.

You cannot contemplate the things of God without some distance from the world.

Science has now known sin

there is love enough is this world for everybody, if people will just look

Pure research--no goal in mind, no better filter, no new formula to cut costs--just discovery

Crystal seeding - crystal fibers grown, recrystallized, scratch glass and crystals form (flossy). Add stabilizers, weave into fractal cloth

Fields of oily stalks with flowers peeking up. easy to spot above the uniformity of the rest. Workers pulling them out, piling them and burning. Symbol of dreamers, "not good for anything." Striving upward, toward the empty sky.

Park with world in bricks used as intro to different continents. "And we would sit on the world and talk of paradise."

Seeding technis crystals to make fractal sails

Death is a forgetting

Man subdued by the mundane elements that he has subdued

Commercila/market district
Wealther merchants live on inner wall
big, broad street through market dist. at night, empty, patrolled by guards (Enforcers?). No permanent residents really.

tribal priests use technis/chakra to convince people of Great Spirit--Jonah sees through this but comes to find God in the end. First denies it. "It's like everything else--fake." Then acknowledges there is something higher, a God, but doesn't know how to perceive it or describe it.

Livestock pens for men (Mara to Jonah)
Why not live outside? There is space enough here for millions and millions beyond those that fester within the walls.

Eyes dull and empty, almost animal likebut with less of a will to sruvive

***Creative literature is too delayerd--it needs an outlet. Self publication, biweekly? Chapbooks?

We can't live in art.
-------------------------------

I quest outside but twice a day
To chase my wintry pale away
And then, with sun kissed cheeks, inside,
To taste the world--in reading, hide.

Popeye's on Tuesday, Kane's Wednesday, Thursday Buffalo Wild Wings
Chicken and lips shining with grease  (Larry from the battery warehouse)

Tempura tempting me, unagi wriggling between wooden spears, before sliding down my gullet. Eel sauce and spicy mayonnaise are  swirl of color on Da Vinci's canvas on the plate,
A starry night where Pisces shies from showing his fins
And the twin dragon sleeps upon the mountainside

The human experience is the poetry of poetry. Good poetry, then, must stir us to remember the joys and beauties that we have lived to experience.

How am I to speak my soul when it is severed from sensation? My cup runneth empty, so how is my soul to overflow, to spill out onto the pages of my shame and solitude?

" all that dreary intercourse of daily life"  Wordsworth

It was time that thought was added to your reason: heart to your charity, soul to your religion.

Modern media blunts the human mind

Poetry is what disrupts the daily doldrums of reality--the flecks of silver/gold scattered in the coal dust

Vulnerability of a new professor: mind still empty and full of dreams at the same time

Friday, January 24, 2014

Seek: 5 - Jonah visualized

Jonah - tall, in good shape but still lean; curly, sandy-colored hair, brown eyes with flecks of gold, bushy brown eyebrows, tanned (white) skin

I had never really thought about my appearance much before we arrived in the village, Secra. When I was younger, the other kids at school had made fun of my "Seeker eyes," because I guess the flecks of gold weren't the most common of characteristics for an average kid growing up in the Middle Districts, but as a whole, I was pretty much like everyone else. In Secra, though, my eyes were the least of our differences. I stood a full head taller than most of them, and I could feel their gazes stumbling over my features in a mix of curiosity and fear. My summer's tan was pale in comparison with the dark/antique copper of their skin, and as I would later find out, many of them had never before seen curly hair. There was a boy standing at the edge of the village with his mother, their tattered clothes hanging loosely off of thin, tired frames, and immediately my thoughts went back to a boy and his mother from a picture that had hung in the hallway back at home. The mother's hand rested gently on a head of honeyed curls, and their eyes were full of longing. That was before the boy had been admitted to the academy, back before his frame had grown tall and strong on academy rations, back before his limbs had become corded with muscle from the drills that he and the other Legion initiates had run each morning at the first light of day.

Seek 6: The Raid

 A reptilian shriek fractured the night. Shadows shifted through the trees, claws tearing at the earth in a wild frenzy as spurred heels dug deeper into scaly flesh. Silence. Outside the village of Secra, moonlight filtered through the jungle canopy, coils of darkness evaporating into the clearing as a hand, an eye, a boy of seventeen emerged into the light. Beneath him, clawed feet dug into the rich, dark earth, scales reflecting midnight as the armored salamander awaited orders from a second rider. A call rang out, then shouts resounding in the dark, and then silence once more as each of the legionnaires raised his arm before him and a jet of flame erupted from each calloused palm. Smoke poured from the first few huts in billowing cataracts, acrid and black, and screams burst from the night. The boy glanced down at the stone in his left hand, it's sanguine face glimmering in the fire's glow. His right arm raised, he took a deep breath, and the flecks of gold in his eyes shimmered for just a moment before a stream of flame blossomed from the center of his hand and night was consumed in the blaze. Bent human shapes stumbled through the yellow haze, smoky silhouettes blowing into the night, and somewhere beneath the ashen pall covering Secra, a quavering voice repressed sobs as it hushed a child's cry. Coughing, wailing. A dusky shape emerged from the wreckage of a hut, its raw and blistered hands dragging from the firestorm a smoldering bundle, ragged breath now fled.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

More Transcription (Seek scraps and writing journal)

Simeon trying to convince Jonah to use technis. "You could create world, rebuild paradise."
"I will rebuild paradise, but it will be stone upon stone."
Eventually grows opposed to even using Onim, but he has to at one point to save people?

Flash flood out on flatlands. Dry earth, flows over, have to get higher ground --> basin drains off through river that becomes torrential, child swept up, drowns. Send of in river with candles.
Flatlands become a tool to discuss hardened earth/soul that won't drink in the life that surrounds them, flows over and about them.

Screams of chokros resounding through the darkness

These problems started a long time ago, before you were even born. You can't expect to fix them in a day
Acknowledge the struggle, and then be strong

Jonah discovers plot because he mispronounces word that is code word for secret society (watch word). "Can she be trusted?"

Pinions glittering in the fearless rays of the dayspring star

Open air museum - "This is my dream, my memory."

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Writing Journal Transcription (Seek)

Seek Brainstorming

Raid, trial, work camp, flight, rescue/encounter, village, accusations, advocacy, intervention, hunting (villagers cool off), raiders return, race back to village, fight off raiders, face off/encounter with leader (scar-faced?), Kara saves (shoots arrow at Gecko?), shouts (others coming), Sal. Leg. liet. grabs reins, turns couatl around, looks back, lock eyes, rides off into night, swallowed by the darkness of the jungle (Heart of Darkness)

Smoke everywhere--old woman stumbling backwards, tripping over things, eyes full of terror--eyes lock, she runs away, and that's what makes Jonah realize that these are not his enemies. "These are regular people. These are children and old women." Crying from someone

Village packing up. Some to Shibboleth, some to Khaios, where their sons have lived for years.

In your language they would be called moon blossoms
Jonah grew up in poor district, heard some villagers speaking in marketplaces, knows some words in Old Tongue. Will have a teacher (little brother?)

Jonah silhouetted against the burning factory, etc. and as he stumbles out people in the streets cheer him on for blowing it up, even though he chose not to / tried to stop it.

Great free city in the mountains to the north.

Monday, January 13, 2014

Seek: 4 - Scout, the Resistance

I fell in love with the idea of free running while in Moscow
winter semester of 2013. There were kids who would do
parkour on the top of a huge abandoned building, and I
knew, watching them, that I wanted to include it in a novel.
I was overjoyed to find that there had been a number of
games designed around free running, so I bought one,
Mirror's Edge, and played through it during winter break.
Scout is a sixteen-year-old girl masquerading as a thirteen-year-old boy. Her parents were arrested by the Legion shortly after the Onim protests that likewise resulted in Kaiya's mother's death. She lived on the streets for a few months (was potentially abused, but that would be more of something that had to be inferred rather than something that I would just come out and say: unwillingness to talk about her time on the streets, anxiety around men, disguising herself as a boy, hatred, violence. "They took everything that was most precious from me and left me for dead on the streets" (talking about the Legion, so others kind of suppose that she means it figuratively, but it could be literally in the sense that first her parents were taken away and then she was taken advantage of and literally left for dead). Eventually, she gets picked up by the Resistance, and she becomes a key operative in the fight against corruption of the Khaiosian Executive Council, which is made up predominantly of corporate moguls and military officials.

Scout works as a "kite" within the Resistance. Her job is to carry information, lead Enforcers (corporate mercenaries) away from Resistance hot spots, intercept parcels, etc. As such, she learned free-running and knows her way around the city really well. In Part III, upon Jonah and Kaiya's return to Khaios, Scout steals a Technis sphere from them as a way of leading them to the Resistance. She leads them into an abandoned alleyway and then from the rooftops, the Resistance members call down: "You are surrounded, and we have concussion charges at the ready.

They are escorted inside, worried about what will happen to them, and then the boy (Scout) tosses the satchel with the Technis sphere in it back to Kaiya. "Well that wasn't so tough. I didn't think you'd come so easily."
Jonah: "Well, you think you're pretty tough, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I do, so back off, Jonah..."
"How do you know his name?"
"Same way I know yours. We make it our job here to know what's going on in Khaios, and you two seem to be popping up all over the place and have your fingers in a few too many places for it to be coincidence."
"It's none of your business."
"I make whatever I want to be my business, and today, that means Kaiya and her ugly friend." Jonah's temples bulged with anger. "Don't flatter yourself or anything, pretty boy, but just so you know, it wasn't me that decided we should grab you. It was the higher ups, and I kind of just do what they say." His voice trailed off. He scuffed his bare feet against the stone floors, the thick callouses on his toes and the balls of his feet scraping softly against the white stones.
Kaiya: "What do you want with us?" Scout ignores the question and continues brushing her feet one at a time across the stones. "What is your name?"
"Scout."
Jonah jumps in at what he sees as an opportunity to humiliate the young boy. "Oh, Scout, now there's an original name. Lemme guess, you work as a scoouut here." His voice was dripping with condescension.
"I'm a kite, idiot, and you don't know anything about me."
etc.


[At some point, Jonah will talk about "kiting" the rails, and Scout will light up for a second and talk about how she used to do that, back before her parents died. It's a moment of connection for the two, and she feels like she can relate to him/trust him, but then, thinking about it, he remarks, "You would have had to have been like seven at the time. You wouldn't have even been big enough to latch the cords on." She feels like he might find out that she's really older (and a she, for that matter), so she pulls into her shell and doesn't really say anything else. He takes this as a sign that he's caught her (him) in a lie and doesn't feel like he can trust her (him) fully.]

Positions within the Resistance:
Kite - explained above
Squint - Glorified hackers. They handle all computer-related stuff: surveillance, hacking, security, communication. Mechanical sparrows [invented by Simeon, of course], that are used by the Resistance, the Executive Council, and the corporations. They live in their mothers' basements and typically lack general social finesse.
[Information gatherers: plants?] - ordinary people that sympathize with the Resistance but lack the mobility or bravery to join up formally. They could potentially help rescue Jonah and Kaiya at some point, kind of out of nowhere. The might end up being the people that wear rings as identifiers, and if they end up in prison, the guard would be wearing a ring. They could also be an opportunity to talk about fear and revisit some of the ideas in the first part of the book, i.e. acting in spite of fear, following truth no matter the consequences, etc.
[Strong, fighters: bashers?]

(Wordcount 5122 so far)