Talons That Go Unnamed

Excerpts from my novel, of the same title as this blog. Let me know what you think:

Chapter 1
This chapter is set in one of the main character's Catholic church, he essentially quits the church during this chapter:
The Father extended his arms in messianic posturing, the bulge of a second chin bobbing under the emphatic “O” of his tone-deaf mouth. Al was feeling a public rage at this man, for the first time a personal indignation for the very individual that had Confirmed him into the Catholic church. The father swiveled from side to side on generous hips, nodding to generic spots in the audience based on his vague grasp of the timing of the piece. This technique of blatantly ineffective encouragement, rendered comical by the modest swelling at his gut, had always fallen at Al’s feet but only now did he feel offended by it.

....

Out in the lobby the muffled sound of the choir lost all sanctity, pushed through tiny speakers in the corners hidden in the dust-free corners. Al remained quiet, he wanted to speak his excuse effortlessly, gracefully if possible. Could there be one impervious phrase that would win over Rose absolutely? They dipped their hands in the fountain of holy water, Al making his last sign of the cross, and walked towards the door. On the verge of things, smiling as they pointed into the future, Al thought. Without the spectre of a vengeful god, or weak-kneed reliance on his miracle Al could envision the family growing closer, trusting each other, creating beautiful lives for their children.
The décor in the lobby was less bleak but no more organic, every piece polished and in place, every wall free of the smudges of little hands. Near the door, Al stooped to inspect a congealing stain on the carpet. Down to the hardwood. Al pulled back a flap of carpet that had been cut back to scoop out chunks of saturated padding. A grease stain of inordinate damage that essentially disqualified all of St. pete’s other efforts to impress and comfort. Is it bubbling up? Or soaking in?




Chapter 2
Starts with a little dream sequence. Melanie is his daughter and a central concern of his.
Disassembled Al drifted down the plank stairs, no intimation of cellar beasts reaching through the slats to grab ankles. Melanie’s Lilliputian hand a smoldering ember, soft in his hand.
The eventual floor was dirt, black tendrils of unguessable trees poked thru the walls and floor in search of water and sprouted slowly twirling pink blossoms that occasionally dropped to the floor. But the cellar was dim, it would be impossible to find that jar of preserves or jug of wine. Al began to look for a dangling chain to yank or a gleaming touch-screen to activate. Melanie was whimpering something backwards about the dampness, the cool draft that emanated from the center of the room.
...

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"The Name is Mine, I'll Take Blame for That"

Washed off the humanity, only to reinvigorate those tendencies to sit still, be cajoled, and eat too much. See, simultaneously we collectively, figuratively bend light with our gravity; howe'er as individuals squander near everything.
The name, tkhoveringhead, indicates a euphemistic sci-fi path for us. TK is for telekinesis (the comic book ability to, effectively, move things with the mind), hovering head is substantially more obvious. Barring human extinction, human beings will inevitably have a decision to make between retaining our bodies, social constructs, identities, flaws, etc or leaving the body altogether. Tkhoveringhead (the human body being replaced by a telekinetic hovering head) is a carcicature of the eventual future, though its far more likely that we'll be an electronic entity rather than the sort of mutant the name describes.

Current religio-political issues that dominate conversation in 2005-6 reiterate the importance of preparing for this leap. Many of our collective decisions are influenced by those who put the highest value on figments of their imagination, painfully shortsighted "morals", their personal emotional rocketship, or simply a lack of vision. Currently, knowledge of human genetics are used for developing therapies and spotting problems before they happen. It is presupposed that not only could genetic problems be "edited" during the early embryological processes, but that enhancements could be made to even the most fit genetic profile. Without doubt, this is tricky ground. The people with the knowledge and resources to support genetic enhancements/perfections will have hefty responsibilities. A society that uses these tools would require a dependence on the steadfast character of those in power, a widespread scientific understanding of the basic principles, a willingness to change, a carefully revised cultural tradition, a preventative and analytical perspective on healthcare, and a semi-unified, minimally mythological belief system.
Concerns that only the rich would have access to modify their children could possibly be offset by governmental programs that essentially put everyone on a similar page with respect to health defects (potentially cheaper than providing healthcare to all of the issues that genetic defects may cause). After some time, a simple set of benefits may become part and parcel of prenatal care.

The impetus for all of this will eventually be the understanding that we simply cannot sustain current growth and remain within the confines of planet earth. Steps will be made to reduce population growth, and in years to come we will see more repressive programs such as China's child-bearing policies. Crops will be genetically modified for higher yields in harsher environments and smaller spaces (this is already happening). Genetic modification of human beings will allow for a more efficient existence, but we will inevitably be pushed up against a wall.

What's required is an upheaval of our current way of thinking. And there are simple steps everyone can take to throw out the old guard. Read a book, contribute to culture, keep up on science, criticize cultural traditions . .. etc etc.

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Noise in the Storage

I started another phase of writing a third novel two weeks ago (this being the part where I write the actual content, 50-90% of which will inevitably be changed). The prewriting process lasted nearly two years; two years of flipping desks over (figuratively), pacing around stoned, taping up nonsense on my walls, learning HTML, suffering through suburbia, questioning my very purpose. Occasionally I had fits of what I like to think was inspiration. Here's the gist of the thing for the one or two people I haven't already annoyed with it:

Two guys representing what can be termed "hypermediocrity" (that is middle class jobs in a nameless suburb, devoting much of thier time and interest to their hopeless families and "friendly" competition with one another). Via past experiences and a "seed" event for each of them they (completely without influence of each other) begin a sort of inner revolution that has them questioning and lashing out at the suburban network in which they live as well as the religious or political assumptions they live under. They're both kind of assholes, (or maybe "dicks" by the Team America Definition)

Eventually they've convinced themselves to action and sort of team up to whistleblow or otherwise hold-up the efforts of the huge multinational they work for in executing a controversial government contract . . . . yadda yadda .. . I don't want to give much away I guess.

I'm trying to use some devices and/or techniques that I haven't seen utilized very frequently or to great effect. One character has frequent bouts of inspirational hypnogogia
that result in essentially surrealist interpretations of actual events. The other becomes disturbingly interested in conspiracy theory and numbers stations. The idea in general is that they are BOTH protagonists and sort of equal the average male in the average suburban situation in America. A boring topic in some ways, but one I'm not sure has been explored comprehensively in the way I intend to explore it. What is interesting to note is that (I think) using a generic even familiar backdrop (suburbia) gains something for the overall piece. For example, by taking suburbia and exaggerating/sterilizing it one can make ordinary events seem ludicrous and thus make the framework(setting) carry some of the energy required for the overall theme. Suburbia is far more interesting as a character of its own then it is as a place to hang out.

The combination of two main storylines also allows for a bit of downtime for one character (i.e. what could be considered slower elements of the plot) to be sandwiched by pure insanity in the events of the other . . . I'd like the reader to be exhausted by the end of the thing.

Anyhow, after I've written some of it I will be putting up some snippets.

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