IMA’S BOOKWORM REVIEW, VOLUME III, ISSUE 9

Male author issue, all books written by men.

The City of Devi by Manil Suri Three and a Half Worms
Usually I don’t like the narrative to flip-flop between characters but in this instance, it does work after an awkward opening. Lots of action and some skipping through time with a predictable ending. Author doesn’t quite understand the workings of a female’s body. Book includes a map of the area described.

Margaret from Maine by Joseph Monninger Three Worms
Sappy romance novel written by a male. Sweet characters torn by guilt. Good to read during vacation.

Twin Cities Haunted Handbook by Jeff Morris, Garett Merk, and Dain Charbonneau Three Worms
Surprised by the large number of purportedly “haunted” venues in the Twin Cities area and nearby. Two semi-professional ghost hunters focus on an area and then use a local person to assist. Writing is clear and wise to include driving and parking instructions. However, some of the details are wrong so more local people should have assisted with proofreading. Could of used a map showing the locations

The Death Relic by Chris Kuzneski Three Worms
Flawed characters actually provide some psychological insight amidst chaos. Narrative jumps rapidly with barely an introduction to a character, which can be a bit confusing. Romance, adventure, and history lessons all tied up in one story. This is one installment of a multi-book series but is independent enough to carry its own weight. Yeah, it includes a map!

The Illicit Happiness of Other People by Manu Joseph Two and a Half Worms
Beautiful phrasing and images besmirched by a labyrinth storyline. Narrative hops around from character to character without explanation and the voices aren’t distinct. No sympathetic character emerged from the din.

Death on a Pale Horse by Donald Thomas Two and a Half Worms
Further adventures of Dr. Watson observing the antics of Sherlock Holmes. Brilliant chapters enmeshed in mundane descriptors. The specimen jar would have been too heavy to suspend and the contents would have needed to be supported by a glass scaffold. (I’ve worked in a Pathology Lab with items from that era, I know.)

Walk a mile in my heels.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER NINE

PLEASE BEGIN WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. Rough draft of an imaginary fable, inspired by the television show, Grimm.

The Hexen Empire began to crumble during the French Revolution. Ordinary citizens demanded equal status and access to the wealth, which was disproportionately held by a tiny percentage of the population. The Great War usurped more of the monarchies and World War II deposed several more fiefdoms, many royals and their underlings died. Survivors scattered around the world. The remaining Crown Heads of Europe lost much of their wealth and power. They became symbolic patrons instead of political leaders. Hexen moved into cabinet positions in the new democratic and socialist governments but their heyday was over. The Changeling community was overjoyed.

During the 1980s I met a delightful artistic Hexen paradox, named Rudolpho. He had long dark hair, brown twinkly eyes, and a sweet smile. Love is a wonderful feeling and I became blissfully pregnant. We lived in a small safe community in Turkey and met a nice Grimm couple from America, the Burkhardts. They were both descended from Good Grimms who had immigrated to the United States. They were teaching English in a nearby village for a year. We became good friends but I never told them my real identity. I enjoyed spending time with my “children.”

We were celebrating the Burkhardt’s five-year wedding anniversary and bon voyage with a dinner at our abode. They were to return home the next week. Rudy was finishing a painting in his studio when I went out to greet Kelly and Reed at their car. As we returned to the house, the hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end. I knew what it meant and warned our guests. A gaggle of Hybrids attacked us. Even though I was eight months pregnant, I was able to fight alongside my friends and we managed to kill all but one of the Hybrids. However, it was too late for Rudy, he laid decapitated next to his easel.

I was bereft with heartache. I don’t even know when the labor pains began. I gave birth while grieving the loss of my beloved. The police cleared us of charges but could not repair my broken heart. I held my darling baby boy and wept. I was also sad that Burkhardts were about to return to the United States. I knew what I had to do. I called my lawyer and arranged for a private adoption. Nickolas became their son. I felt deep grief but I knew that optimistic people would raise him. They would protect him from becoming a servant of beasts. I hunted the final member of the Hybrid pack to learn who ordered the extermination of my family. The Hybrid confessed and but I was not ready to seek revenge.

I would check in on the Burkhardts and was satisfied with Nick’s progress. They told him that I was a cousin. Nick was a happy and loved child. I did not predict that Reed would have an affair with his wife’s best friend, Gina Serafini. Kelly found out, hired a Hybrid assassin to kill them, and fled. Nick’s aunt Marie Kessler did a fine job of raising him. I visited on several occasions. However, she chose not to take him through the Fledging process and it delayed the blooming of his Grimm skills. I must correct this error. Together we could avenge the murder of his biological father.

THE END?
Thank you for reading this very rough draft of a possible origination story of the Grimm. My first venture into fiction. Please feel free to friend me on Facebook!

NOTE: The current series of Grimm will re-start on NBC on March 8th, 2013. I encourage you to view old episodes on their website.

Sources:
www.ancient-greece.org/history/delphi.html
www.grimm.wikia.com/wiki
www.monsaventinus.wikia.com/wiki/
www.nbc.com
www.olympia-greece.org/delphi.html
www.wikipedia.com

May the Grimm be with you.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER EIGHT

PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional story.

When I am busy, time flows by quickly. Changelings had adapted along with other humans to the physical condition of their environment. Their bodies were affected by the amount of daylight and humidity. They resided in areas suitable to sustain their sub-species. Otherwise, all Changelings are similar. They just want to have a good life and raise children. I could only be in one location at a time. It would take a year or more for news to travel from place to place before technology shortened the communications gap. I kept finding new places to visit. It was less complicated to travel as a male.

I intervened to rescue Changeling sub-species who were hunted by humans or other Changelings and improved my reputation. It was nice to be invited a Changeling community; the hosts would be gracious enough to provide food, clothing and shelter. I found happiness again. Long ago I learned how to determine what the local society considered valuable and procure it. Thus, I was able to purchase what I needed. A lot of calories are expended when transforming from one species to another. I needed food to maintain my position and nutrition isn’t free. I would stash valuables such as precious metals and stones in caches, but sometimes the goods would be absconded before I returned for them. Eventually, I used banks to store my finances.

After many years of solitude, I sought affection. I had learned long ago that sexual intimacy without emotion is merely a form of exercise. I loved the person that I was with until the relationship ended or they died. I was attracted to the soul of the person, not their body. My partner’s gender was not a concern. Since I could alter my physical appearance, it was easy to make certain that we were compatible. I could not reproduce as a male, though.

During my sojourns, I would occasionally discover a Hexen paradox: a magical person with kindhearted and empathic traits. They fought their evil nature and escaped from the callousness of their own tribe. I protected the Positive Witch/Warlock for as long as possible. If I mated with the Positive Warlock, I made certain that our Grimm child was raised in an optimistic environment. Tragically, sometimes my lovers were located and murdered by angry Changelings, fearful humans, or vengeful Hexens. Our children would be stolen and brainwashed by the Hexens to join the Royal Guard. I always feared for their safety.

I was fortunate when surviving “Good” Grimm children would reach maturity and challenge evil in all its forms. They would champion those oppressed by the Royals. They would lead a band of rebels and battle the Hexen. Their efforts saved the world from utter Hexen domination. They hunted and killed Wesen who harmed humans and transformed into the unofficial Sheriff of the Changeling community. Changelings could not determine the difference between a positive and negative Grimm so they feared all my children and their offspring.

We accidentally discovered that when the blood of a Grimm was absorbed by a Hexen, the evil shard of Tanis’ soul would be dispelled from the Hexen’s soul rendering them to be an ordinary witch/warlock. Perhaps it is because a miniscule portion of Tanis’ spirit is in each Grimm rendering their DNA incompatible. I did the best that I could but I could not stop all the tragedies that occurred. To err is Human and Changelings are a part of the Human clan.

Changelings lived harmoniously as valued members with most indigenous tribes. I spent time on the North American continent before heading south to venture to deep into the beautiful Amazon basin. Upon my return to modernity, it was agonizing to learn that the British government crushed the original occupants of the land through colonization. I ensured that the continent remained neutral Changeling territory; no Royals were allowed to establish themselves in the democratic governments that formed during the 1700s. One small victory.

NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER SEVEN

PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a rough draft of a fictional tale.

Decades flowed into centuries and millennium. Time lost its relevance. My bottled up grief exploded into anger and rage. I thoughtlessly spilled a lot of blood because I had cut myself off from emotion during captivity. I wandered from community to community and appointed myself judge and jury. Changelings feared the name Alpha. My decisions were swift and deadly.

After on particularly harsh verdict upon a Changeling, a child innocently inquired, “Why is it is so easy for you to hurt others?” I was stunned by her insolence. It felt like I had been hit by lightening. Causing pain was effortless for me. I began to question my motives. Was I wrong all these years? I knew in my heart that the answer was yes. I’d just ignored the feelings of guilt. Once I accepted that I was emulating Tanis, I had to atone for my sins. Thus, my quest for spirituality commenced. I met with many wise people and studied myriad religions. I did not convert to one specific theology. Instead, I sought similarities because that is where I found truth. It took many years to learn how to guide with compassion. I had to remember what my biological family taught about healing. It is much more difficult to seek tranquility rather than destruction.

My children’s Royal Guard moved in opposition of my efforts. They led an army of humans to conquer land and resources for the Hexen. They served City-States that expanded into Regional Governances and Nations. The Hexen endowed themselves with the elevated status of royalty amongst Changelings, who they referred to as Wesen. The Royals maintained power through the guise of puppet sovereigns, the Seven Houses or Crown Heads who were purportedly appointed by a deity to lead. The human-crown wearers endowed themselves with the illusion of Manifest Destiny. Monarchs tended to annihilate each other but the Hexen controlled the military and resources, which were required regardless of who wore the coronet.

A vicious cycle of violence engrained itself into Wesen culture. Hexen ruthlessly demanded total submission from the Changelings. Hexen were also merciless with each other. Weakness was not tolerated. Questioning and hesitation to follow orders resulted in a violent penalty or death. My children became known as the Grimm. They were used to force Changeling and human compliance. Grimm Fairy Tales were written to scare human children into obedience. Hybrids were bred to serve as assassins for political gain and to keep the Grimm submissive. The presence of a Hybrid always raises my hackles.

The Hexen Empire dominated a continent that became known as Europe. As Alpha, I trained Changelings and human warriors to keep the Hexen from expanding their reach. We successfully held the Wesen at bay. I finally felt at ease and began traveling to locate other Changeling clans. I traversed every continent and was thrilled that our species thrived. I was happy to discover that some human communities lived in harmony with Changelings. However, I did not anticipate that the Hexen would spread their malevolence through colonization. By the time I realized my gaffe, it was too late to reverse their infestation.

NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER TWO

PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional tale.

It was no Garden of Eden. Though the upper plains and valley were blessed with sufficient assets, survival was a minute-by-minute struggle. Every day you had to obtain food, water, and safe shelter. You were always aware of threats. The Pioneer Clan absorbed the homids who survived the expedition. The mixed genetics evolved into a distinctive culture and copulation was our legacy. We had to make certain that the next generation learned enough to survive and reproduce. There was little time for entertainment except on a rare evening when we would gather around the fire to share stories. We passed along the story of our journey via oral tradition from generation to generation.

The traditional healers, the shaman, would gather flora, fauna, roots, and bark during specific conditions to mend the hurts of the members of the tribe. Their knowledge was passed from parent to child and Tlsa-se was a risk taker. She learned from her predecessors the essentials and then experimented with new cures. She found many new ways to heal though occasionally she would harm or kill a patient with the treatment. The valley was a natural pharmacy, almost all the curative plants they needed were present as well as sunlight and moonlight. She taught her offspring the way of the shaman and made certain that they respected the power of comprehension. Medicine could be used as a weapon, too.

After the monsoons ended and the well-worn trail dried, the tribe would move out of the valley. The clans would thrive in the growth of the plains until the heat drove them back to the valley. Each tribe had returned into their summer home and was enjoying the bounty while hot sunshine burned the plains. They traded, mated, and shared information. Quarrels would occur but since everyone was related, blood rarely dampened the ground. It was Tlsa-se’s busiest time of the year because other family-tribes would seek her to treat their ailments.

Tlsa-se was busy making a poultice for a woman who had an infected wound on her arm. Suddenly, the ground shook and the sky began to fall. Members of the tribe ran to each other for comfort. Trees toppled over and Tlsa-se feared that the world was ending. She prayed to the sun, earth and moon to protect her kith and kin. A horrible roar filled the peaceful valley and dust rose into the air making them choke and gasp for air. When the shaking finally ended and the dust settled, a group gathered near her. They didn’t know where else to go. She and her kin tended injuries and provided comfort. It was too late for the dead. A young male covered with dust and holding his broken arm, limped to her home. Tears rolled down his dirty face while describing his personal tragedy. He had been hunting a snake with his two sisters near the south wall when the earthquake began. The cliff face gave way and crushed his siblings. The pathway was no more. The whole tribe was stranded in the valley.

The story of the rumbling earth was verbally passed down from generation to generation. Tlsa-se was elevated to a hero who stopped the rocks from crushing everyone. Many iterations of her children continued the healing and counseling of the thriving tribe. The fertile valley offered enough to survive. Occasionally, the torrential rains would flood the lowest end but the tribe would move to higher ground until it drained away. The earth would still shake, sky would darken, and the volcanoes would scatter dust but they survived. Even though two of the streams dried up, they had enough water to endure as they incrementally became human.

NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

SWITCHBACK - THE CHANGELING STORY: Chapter One

This is a rough draft of a fictional origination story of a sci-fi/fantasy/cop-drama show, Grimm on NBC. I have not watched every episode due to the sporadic airing of the program. The episodes are available online but I am vexed with a slow Internet connection. I enjoy the show’s story line though it is degraded by gratuitous violence. A chapter of this brief novella will be posted every other day.

This is my first attempt at creative fictional writing, merely a preliminary plotline sketch so please be kind…

SWITCHBACK - THE CHANGELING STORY: Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE
In the way back long–ago, there was a community of bipedal homids. They traversed the land mostly by walking on two feet instead of leaping from tree to tree. They belonged to the same species that developed into Homo sapiens or modern day humans. Family-clan groups were the core of their community. They resided in a thickly forested jungle area laced with expanding patches of savannah plains. The clans seasonally migrated with other animals to obtain food, water, and shelter. Encounters between clans were rarely neutral. Positive would involve trade, sharing of information, and genetic material. Negative could result in theft, physical harm or death.

Life was a struggle. Almost half the offspring died before puberty. Adults frequently expired due to accident, illness, conflict, or were killed by other animals. Living until the old age of twenty was a rarity. The seasons would cycle from too much rain, abundance, extended dryness, and then return to the deluge of monsoon. The rhythm of existence was harsh but despite the challenges, the population gradually grew. Disputes between clans and animals increased as the land’s resources were stretched to feed more mouths.

The homid’s territory was large, but one range of high hills was off limits to all clans. Occasionally, the mountains beyond the hills would belch black smoke and glow orange at night. Bitter evil ash would occasionally fall from the sky when the wind would blow from the north. However, scarcity forced one clan to break taboo and forge a path through the hills. A few years later, some members of the pioneering clan returned with a tale of profuse resources. The pressures of overpopulation had amplified during their absence. The pioneers convinced several desperately hungry clans to join them in the unexploited territory.

Traversing the trail proved to be perilous. Food and water were not always available, rockslides were common, and predators would attack the vulnerable trekkers. Many people died during the journey deeper into the mountains. A rockslide in a narrow gorge crushed and injured many of the travelers. There was no turning back because immovable boulders blocked their return path. The only way was forward and clan members wearily marched northward.

Entering a beautiful terra firma rewarded their arduous journey. The high plain was at a greater elevation but not high enough to frost during the cool months. How could this land be considered taboo? Like other animals, the homids moved with the season seeking a safe area to procure nutrition, water, shelter, and raise their young. They journeyed in their family-groups throughout the new region. They grew accustomed to the rumble of minor earthquakes and infrequent eruptions of the neighboring volcanoes. The groups would annually converge in a deep valley located on the eastern edge of the plain to wait out the driest part of the seasonal cycle.

The valley was a large gorge formed by violent earthquake long before the homids arrived. The walls were steep on all sides except for one entrance on its south wall. The passageway was treacherous; the slender footpath sometimes claimed the life of one or more band members when they moved up or down its terrain. The dangerous journey was worth the blood. The valley was lush with food and few predators while the plain above baked in the dry sun. The clan was mostly vegetarian and would occasionally eat small insects, fish, or other animals to supplement their diet. Several small streams fell from the cliff walls and coalesced into a traversable river in the valley. A spring-fed stream dribbled out from the west wall and drained into a small lake in the lowest level of the valley before it trickled through a winding gap to the sea. The cleft was too constricted for even a child to pass. The homids would migrate out of the valley after the monsoon season refreshed the food sources in the expansive plain above the valley. Thus, our story begins.

NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing