A Very Sad Day

As is my usual wont, I surf the 'Net around midnight after everyone has gone to bed, catching up on news and reading other blogs of interest. One of the blogs that I read on a semi-regularly basis is Robert Jordan's blog on www.Dragonmount.com. And so, just a few moments ago, I read of his passing on Sunday afternoon. For those of you who don't know who Robert Jordan was or what he meant to me, a little back story. Robert Jordan (a pen name for James Rigney) was the author of the best-selling "Wheel of Time" series of fantasy fiction. A total of 11 books have been published, each one averaging about 700 pages.

I know that fantasy (and science fiction) is the red-headed step child of literature, but I have always been drawn to the fantastical settings and stories. And Jordan delivered those things (and so much more) in spades. Starting with the first book in the series, "The Eye of the World", Jordan started weaving a tapestry of characters and story lines that was simply head and shoulders above what everyone else was doing. He had a deft hand with characterization, especially his female characters, developing them into real people, with wants, needs, fears, joys, etc. And the story lines and plot ideas flowed like an undulating stream, crossing and churning, rising and falling; never to the extant that they slowed the narrative or became so convoluted as to be impossible understand yet still containing more imagination than a busload of 8 year olds. Simply put, you fell in love with his characters and you couldn't wait to see what they were going to do next.

One of the great things about his books was the idea that not everyone was on the same page, information wise. Most fiction (we'll call it "heroic fiction" to coin a phrase and great a new genre too, I guess) involves characters working together towards a common goal and so by the end of story, each one knew everything the other did and there were no misunderstandings. Jordan tossed in the wrinkle that just because you grew up in the same village you weren't necessarily privy to what your friends knew or their intentions. This worked to enrich the characters, so that two people who might have started out friends became bitter enemies, even while working toward the same goal, simply due to a misunderstanding or lack of information.

And the conspiracy theories! Major (and minor) characters would die, only Jordan would sometimes not tip his hat as to who killed them. Or a new character would be introduced, with some striking similarities to a previously killed (or thought to be killed) character and Jordan would simply give us enough information to keep whetting our appetite (the first and foremost goal of any writer worth his salt). There are literally hundreds of websites and message boards devoted to some of these conspiracy theories. Jordan didn't just create a readership, he inspired them.

I have been reading his works for the last 13 years now. I have read, and re-read, the "Wheel of Time" series more times that I care to count. Every time I decide to start reading the series again, invariably someone will ask me what I'm reading, is it good, etc. After I start with a VERY abbreviated outline of the series (complex isn't even in it), I always let slip that I've read this particular book at least a dozen times. The incredulous stares that I get after confiding that information always makes me laugh. Jordan has that effect. His dialogue and turns of phrase are better than anything else I've read, period. Better than Doyle, better than Heinlein, better than Tolkien.

Jordan is always compared to Tolkien whenever a discussion of the books comes about. While Jordan himself never considered his work to be on par with The Lord of the Rings, he always acknowledged that Tolkien (among others) paved the way for him to write his stories, even alluding to this fact in a very oblique way in his books. I've always used this analogy: Tolkien might have drawn the map and the major roads, but Jordan filled in large gaps in the terrain, even establishing a colony or two off the beaten path.

I've considered myself a writer since the 8th grade, when I saw the effect a story I had written for class had on my fellow classmates. In the intervening time, I've emulated various authors whose work I've enjoyed. But Jordan was the first writer to inspire me to write beyond his influence. For example, after I started reading Sherlock Holmes, the vast majority of my stories were mysteries, usually with a very smart and intellectual protagonist. The same with Heinlein, Tolkien, and others. After read their works, I always tried to emulate their writing style or plot style, with varying degrees of success. I've never tried to emulate Jordan's style of writing or plotting. It's beyond me to try and do so. Oh, I possess the technical skill, I'm sure, but it goes beyond mere technique. I can catch and throw a football, but I'm no Jerry Rice or John Elway. I can write a pretty good yarn and make it exciting, adding layers of characterization and plot details, but I'm no Jordan. No, what Jordan did was inspire me to take what I loved, writing, and make it my own. That my ideas were good enough to put pen to paper (or, rather, fingers to a keyboard) and simply write. Everytime I would get down on myself as not being good enough or feeling frustrated over a story, I would re-read a Jordan book and my resolve would firm and I'd take another stab at whatever I was working on. This is the mark of a good writer. They don't just give you a good story, they inspire you to write your own.

Jordan was diagnosed some time ago with a disease called Amyloidosis, specifically AL amyloid (if you want more info, check it out on wikipedia.org. It's far to complex to go into here). There are no known cures for this disease but that didn't stop him from fighting and even continuing his writing (indeed, TOR (his publisher)was still due to publish the final book in the series, "A Memory of Light" once he finished writing it). Through his blog, readers were given an insight into his thoughts and fears and most of all, his strength in the face of such an insurmountable situation. But he never gave up, never felt sorry for himself, never once asked people to simply let him be. I'm sure that in the future I will delve into another long fantasy series and be completely blown away by the author's skill and technique. But I sincerely doubt that I will ever read another work of literature as captivating, breathtaking and inspiring as Robert Jordan's series. There is a line in his books about a particular people's eulogy upon their death. I figure it's about as good a send off as I'm going to come up with and somehow fitting that it comes from Jordan himself:

"May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home."

Cavities

I went to the dentist this morning (7 am this morning! yeah, I know) to have a cavity filled. I've only had one other cavity and that was when I was around 6 or so. The procedure itself was fairly easy and I made my usual jokes (I was there last week for a check up and the dentist & his assistants marveled at my soul patch, having no clue that there was actually a name for it. There was a new assistant this time and one of the first things he mentioned was my soul patch. Even though he's older than my mother, he's actually pretty cool). The fun started after I was finished. I went back home to pick up a few things and noticed that the anesthesia was kicking in big time. It went from numbing my right cheek to progressing across my mouth, so much so that I was literally re-enacting a Bill Cosby sketch (you know, water dribbling out the mouth and being unable to speak properly). I was a bit worried at first, but a call to the dentist assured me that it would fade shortly (although they did say to come back in if it didn't fade in about an hour...not exactly reassuring). I went to school and started in with what I hoped would be a good day. Hoped was the operative word. Even though the numbness had lessened, I still had to be cautious when I drank something or it dribbled out of my mouth. Add to that the fact that now that the anesthesia was wearing off, I was starting to FEEL my filling. And it HURT. Another call to the dentist calmed my fears (that and some Ibuprofen) but it didn't help me eat food (I have to chew on the left side of my mouth or it hurts) or drink anything with ice (I have to swallow carefully or the cold liquid hurts...don't even get me started on the instance of a stray piece of ice being crunched by the filling). And according to my dentist, I have another week or two before I'll be back to normal. Next time, I'll just have them pull the damn tooth.

Our Morning Ritual

Emery, unlike either Heather or I, is an early riser. How early? He comes into our bedroom between 5:30 and 6:00 AM EVERY MORNING to wake me up (and its almost always me, not Heather) to request A) juice and B) Spongebob Squarepants. The dialogue goes something like this: "Daddy, I want juice." "It's early, buddy." "Daddy, I watch Spongebob." "Okay, go to the living room and Daddy will get some juice and turn on Spongebob."

Every day, 7 days a week. Regardless of how early or late he goes to bed, it's the same scenario. Still, it's fun in an odd sort of way. Kind of like our own bonding time. He will sit and watch Spongebob while I check my email and read the day's news. Now Emma has gotten in on the act too. So, Emery gets juice, Emma gets a bottle and Daddy gets bags under his eyes as we all get up before the sun is up to watch Spongebob.

New Camera

I got a new digital camera yesterday. Why did I get a new digital camera? 'Cause I...misplaced...our other camera (it's a long story involving disintegrating trashbags, high winds and my backpack...don't ask). Anyhoo, I went with an HP again (my first camera was an HP m415) because I really enjoyed the first one (a Christmas gift from Heather's parents). I was going to get a Nikon Coolpix but they were out of the model I wanted, plus the HP was on sale. So far, it's been fun to play with. My only gripe is since there is no viewfinder, the thing DEVOURS batteries. You have to turn it off between pics if you want to conserve battery power. But since it's becoming increasingly hard to find a camera with a viewfinder (unless you want to shell out serious change for an SLR digital camera) I figure it will be something I'll have to deal with.

A Day at the Zoo

The company my mother-in-law, Lisa, works for had an annual employee picnic type thing at the OKC zoo. Since the kids have never been to the zoo, we made a family outing of it. I haven't been to the zoo in YEARS (I think the last time I went, my mother still had her natural hair color) so it was fun for me too. Emery had an absolute blast, pointing to all the animals and repeating each animal's name as it was said to him. Even though he was pooped after lunch, he still enjoyed himself in the aquarium (by far his favorite part of the zoo...every time he saw a fish, he would say, "NEMO!") Emma didn't enjoy herself quite so much. She started fussing about 30 minutes before we got there and kept the dial on cranky for most of the time. I didn't include any pics of the animals (unless you count the one with Tim) because I'm sure you've all seen an elephant (the one's with Emery and the bronze animals were quite humorous...after the first one, every time we saw one, he would jump out of his stroller, run to it and pose for the camera). I'm thinking we might make this an annual event.

Movin' on up, to the east side...

The school is moving (well, not the actual building). Sometime before the end of the year, we will be in our new digs. As you can see from the pictures, there is still a lot of work to be done (they are installing new duct work at the moment) but this new location will be HUGE compared to our current building (which has been home to the school since the 60's). We got to take a break from school this morning to tour the facilities and even in a unfinished state they are impressive. The coolest part? The new building is about 5 minutes from where I live. So now when I wake up at 8am, I can make it to class on time.

The Rookies

A new class started Tuesday. It's interesting to see that deer-in-the-headlights look on some of their faces and think that I once looked like that (when I'm challenged with a particularly difficult haircut, I still look like that). I snapped off a few pics of them working on braiding techniques. The cheeseball to the right is Amy, who, interestingly enough, I went to high school with. The girl in the middle teaching techniques is Liz, who threatened to inflict massive amounts of pain on my person if I posted this pic (let's hope she doesn't read my blog).