ThomStratton.com

Almost six months ago at a local writers conference I met Michaelbrent Collings, writer of horror, screenplays, and some other bizarre stuff. He’s also a cool guy, though not necessarily in a “I can’t believe he writes horror” sort of way. There’s ample evidence of a dark side in his normal conversation. And we had several good conversations. Between that and his panel discussions I became convinced this is a person who can teach me a few things about writing. So I felt I should buy one of his books.

The problem is, I’m not a horror fan. But that, in itself, might be something I could learn from. One doesn’t have to like horror to apply horror-like techniques to ones writing. So I just flat-out asked him, “I’m not a horror fan, but I think I should give it a try. What book would you recommend for a horror newbie?” He recommended “Mr. Gray.” It’s not true horror, but has enough horror elements to ease one in that direction. “Ah, like a gateway drug?” I offered.

My copy is signed by Mr. Collings, “Enjoy your ‘gateway'”.

So, fast forward six months. It’s not that I avoided this book. I just had a lot of books in line ahead of it. I’ve been focusing a lot lately on breaking up the log-jam, and suddenly I found myself face to face with “Mr. Gray.” (I note on his website, that the book now carries an alternate title/cover as “The Meridians”.)

This book is what’s referred to in some circles as a “genre-buster”. It’s a supernatural thriller. It has strong elements of horror. As “The Meridians” it has been reset as a science fiction thriller. And it’s probably one of the reasons why Collings self-publishes–he markets his books to his readers, not to a genre.

While the horror elements are strong, it’s far from slasher-fic. This is more of a suspense thriller. Certainly Collings gets more descriptive than entirely necessary, but not to excess. Nor is the language excessive. Sex? Nah, unless you get excited by references such as, “…after making love they talked quietly in the dark.” While I wouldn’t hand it to my kids, there’s very little to get offended by. Dan Wells’ “John Cleaver” series is a good comparison for content.

The book centers around the character of Scott Crowley, an LAPD detective whose wife and son are murdered by a mysterious hit man who comes to be known as “Mr. Gray”. The hitman nearly kills Scott, also, but he is saved by extraordinary means. Unfortunately, those same circumstances mean that Mr. Gray will be coming for him again and again until he finishes the job–a job that includes someone else he’s never even met.

I enjoyed the book–I had a hard time putting it down once I got into it. But at around 370 pages it’s not short enough to read in one sitting, so I learned to put it down anyway. The plot line is well constructed, and all the pieces are sufficiently established–and yet I still didn’t figure out the ending beforehand. This is not a particularly deep book, but the characters are interesting, especially the autistic son who is at the center of it all. The main focus is on the plot and the suspense.

There were a few things I found distracting in Collings’ style. Perhaps some of it are conventions of the horror/thriller genre. I got a little tired of the cliffhanger chapter endings after awhile, and especially how often a character ended a chapter acknowledging that they were about to die or were seeing/breathing/eating/spitting/wearing bunny slippers for the last time. As many times as they were convinced they were about to die and yet somehow managed not to, you’d think they’d figure it out and require greater proof first in the future. The characters also spend a lot of time thinking the same old thoughts. A few times would be understandable, but eventually I wanted to tell them to get over it and think about something else!

On the other hand, as frustrating as I found at times, his characters were realistic, in that they did not possess skills they shouldn’t have. Mr. Gray was the only one with supernatural abilities, and he was…well, supernatural. Even ex-cop Scott loses many of his honed police skills after eight years in retirement. Of course this only heightens the suspense–you don’t expect the protagonists to fight their way out of the situation. Mr. Gray is not infallible, but he is going to be extremely difficult to beat. And Collings does a good job of explaining why they can’t just fight their way out.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be picking up another Michaelbrent Collings book in the future. If this wasn’t horror, I think I’d like to see the difference. And, based on what I’ve seen so far, I think Collings might be the right guy to drive the tour bus.

The full title of this book is actually, Men on Strike: Why Men Are Boycotting Marriage, Fatherhood, and the American Dream – and Why It Matters, which is a bit of a mouthful. To say this book is controversial may be putting it mildly. The topic is not necessarily new; there are many books and magazine articles popping up these days complaining about how men are turning into “perpetual boys” or otherwise failing to live up to expectations. Where this book differs is in what it holds up as the cause of this and why it’s a problem.

Dr. Helen Smith has been known for many years as an advocate for mens’ rights, and she feels the feminist movement overcompensated, either accidentally or intentionally, and now it’s men who are getting the raw deal–and are disengaging from society as a result.

Some of the areas where Smith focuses are disparities in rights between men and women in reproductive and marital issues. For example, while women have a variety of legal options if they become pregnant, the man’s options end. He has no choice in what is done with the baby, be it abortion, adoption, or keeping it.  He is expected to pay child support for a minimum of eighteen years, even if the child was conceived without his knowledge or consent. And, in most cases, even if it later turns out that the child is not actually his, it is next to impossible for him to terminate financial responsibility or reassign it to the real father.

Should there be a divorce, even when it was the wife who strayed, the man still loses most of the property, pays alimony and child support, and custody goes to the mother in the vast majority of cases. “Deadbeat Dads” are dramatically more likely to be prosecuted and jailed then “Deadbeat Moms”. The courts and the laws are stacked in the woman’s favor, and unless a man is aware of the law and gets good legal counsel, he can expect to be improverished for the next twenty years or more. Even when the woman’s actions were illegal. For example, in a case in California, a 35-year-old woman committed statutory rape with a 14-year-old boy, but he is still expected to pay child support.

Smith also discusses the increased shift in educational institutions to favor the learning styles and interests of girls and women. Typical boy behavior is discouraged, and men are continually treated as “rapists-to-be”. College enrollment is approaching 60% women to 40% men, male students are dropping out of college at increasingly higher rates, and no one seems concerned.

This and other sources of inequality (name a TV father that isn’t a buffoon, a creep, or a psycho) are increasingly leading men to boycott traditional roles and do their own thing.  When mainstream media and feminists notice this, it’s either to applaud the signs of progress for women or the further chastize men for failing to live up to women’s expectations. But why should men engage in a society that does not value them at best, and is openly hostile at worse? Where is the incentive? Forming a “guy cave” with other male roommates, playing sports and video games, working just enough to get  by, and basically avoiding women is the safest thing for them to do. Women can scratch their heads, wring their hands, bemoan the lack of “good men”, and tell these “man-boys” to grow up, but until they take a look around and recognize the reasons why men are disengaging it will only get worse.

Some women probably view all this as a feature, not a bug. For them the goal was not really equality between sexes, but a reversal so that they could do to men what see men as having done to them. The only downside is the deficit of eligible men for entertainment, breeding, and perhaps domestic union, but fish don’t need bicycles.

But Smith makes the case for a much larger problem. If allowed to progress much farther there could be long-term damage to society. The lack of male perspectives in education will only accelerate the retreat–or feminization–of boys and men, and provide fewer role models, both for boys to emulate and for girls to learn to interact with and relate to. There will be fewer sports coaches, fewer mentors, fewer non-female perspectives. 

More importantly, the safety and security women seek may be undermined. For men to become policemen and soldiers they have to feel that they are a part of the society they are asked to protect. If men disengage it will become increasingly harder to find enough men willing to put their own lives at risk for everyone else. It could even swing the opposite way–men increasingly engaged in crime out of a “what’s in it for me” mentality and a lack of regard for a society that already turned its back on them.

Does Smith go too far in predicting the consequences? Is she over-stating the problem? It’s hard to say, as I’m most closely associated with a segment of society that still values and respects men, though I see that eroding here, too. But I have to admit that my “out-dated” religious beliefs play an important part in my choosing to step up, “be a man”, get married, and have a family, and that is under attack, too. I don’t have to look far to see many of the disincentives that Smith points out. I consider myself fortunate to have found an “old-fashioned” woman who shares my religion and outlook on marriage.

I think Smith’s book is important, though it will be largely dismissed by the people who need it most. I’m going to try to take Smith’s advice and speak up when men are unfairly treated, even though I expect to be shouted down. I owe it to my boys. They deserve as much as my daughter to grow up in a world where their gender is not a liability.

If you’re at all fair-minded and are willing to at least consider that there may be something to what Smith says I’d recommend you read this book, especially if you have boys. If you don’t, at least keep your eyes and mind open to the signs around you. If it was harmful to society to discriminate against women, it can be just as harmful to discriminate against men. It’s not about payback or control. It’s about doing what’s best for our society, and it’s hard to imagine how society can flourish if either sex takes their ball and goes home.

A Canticle For Liebowitz could probably be considered one of the classics of science fiction. I’ve heard it mentioned for years. J. Michael Straczynski, creator of Babylon 5, inadvertantly wrote part of an episode that parallels the novel. It’s been recommended by the Writing Excuses guys. Even a friend of mine at work (Hi, Cliff!) was reading it one day when I encountered him in the lunchroom. So I put it on my list, and finally picked up on audiobook.

The premise is simple: Mankind has wiped itself out in a nuclear war, and the survivors are slowly rebuilding. An order of monks has arisen, dedicated to preserving the knowledge of the past. Dedicated to “The Blessed Liebowitz”, a scientist who survived the Flame Deluge and became a monk who sought to save knowledge from a spiteful humanity determined to eliminate all pre-holocaust information, the order have become the keepers of “the memorabilia”, a collection of any books, diagrams, or writing they could find. The novel traces the history of the recovering world through the history of the Order of St. Liebowitz over a period of several thousand years.

Written during the Cold War, the book is far from optimistic about mankind and its future. But by keeping the story on a personal level, Miller avoids much of the didacticism that might have been. When Miller lectures he does so through his characters who, as monks, are natural preachers, so it’s not unexpected nor out of place. In spite of that the novel has little to say on god and religion and much to say about the nature of man. And while we seem to have avoided the fate Miller predicted for us, I’m not certain he was entirely wrong, either.

As a non-Catholic I found the religious aspects of the book interesting. I don’t know how accurate they are, and would be quite happy for anyone who would care to enlighten me on that point, but even if erroneous, it was not done maliciously. Miller seems to have a great deal of respect for Catholicism and the moral dilemmas and responsibilities of the priesthood. Each character in each time period is unique and interesting. I felt for Brother Francis, who inadvertantly finds some original artifacts of The Blessed Liebowitz and finds himself caught up in church politics beyond his comprehension. At times it seems as though he is the only honest man. He deserved a better fate than he gets, but it’s still quite in keeping with the tone of the novel.

I found Miller a solid, evocative writer. He layers meaning into his work, but doesn’t let them interfere with the story. There’s more there to be found, to be sure, but I don’t feel foolish for not having looked harder. Miller has a dry, even sarcastic, wit, and I found myself laughing out loud at parts that may not have been meant to be humorous (though I like to think Miller was aware of it and meant it to be).

The novel was not originally meant to be a novel, but began as a pair of short stories published in science fiction magazines of the time. Miller later realized he had the foundations of a novel and set about knitting the pieces together into something greater than the whole. I believe he succeeded. The novel is simple, yet complex, compelling on a personal level, and filled with hope in the midst of inescapable pessimism. There are odd, unexplained and unfulfilled pieces, such as the character of Lazarus, but that incompleteness manages to be a feature rather than a bug. The structure of the novel as three separate stories within the same setting promotes acceptance of “loose ends.” There are simply too many loose ends to worry over them.

In many ways the novel is much like the lives of the monks it details: Uncomplicated, unhurried, isolated, and thoughtful. I was never in a great hurry to pick it up again, but it was never far from my mind, either. It sits in my mind like a well-worn, comfortable couch rather than a “gigawatt monster” (I don’t recall who originated that term, but I like it) that insists on attention. In many ways it’s quite the opposite of another book I recently read, and yet it was every bit as enjoyable, and may have more lasting impact on me than the other.

I enjoyed this book, and I will likely read it again. There is a reason it’s considered a classic. There is much, as a writer, I can learn from Miller.

A Canticle for Leibowitz