Dreamwalker: a book review

Dreamwalker
Written by Gerald Sims
Available at Amazon

Reviewed by Kaye
...
Before reading Dreamwalker, I had read very little fantasy; therefore the genre has been unfamiliar territory for me. A foreign land. I don't understand the customs nor comprehend the language. However, author Gerald Sims invited me in and brought me along to his world of dreamwalkers. A world where words are personified and become an integral part of the weaponry in strategic battles. A world where a madman may be wiser than the elite. A world of dreamwalkers and sensors and guardmasters and cravenmen and unicorns and dragons and rebellious royal offspring.

As I ventured into this world, I was captivated by the personification of words. I love words and believe they matter - probably more than we realize. Because of my fascination with them, I was delighted to see words given such an important role in this fantasy world and to see them personified in such a manner as to illustrate the great power that they carry.

I began to appreciate the way things were explained in this fantasy world - things that we don't seem to be able to understand here in our rational realm. Things like the function of dreams and the transitions between sleep and wakefulness. Who knows how these things work anyway? But how cool to imagine some of what might be.

I relished the "little-known facts" - tidbits about human nature - and about other species as well.
"Pull up a chair and engage in polite conversation. Stoke the fireplace and browse some long-forgotten tome plucked from a dusty shelf. But above all, deny anything was wrong. Deny that his dream had anything to say."
...
"Don't you know that apathy is the highest form of arrogance? For years your apathetic little heart sat inside its haughty little self and said, 'I see nothing out there worthy of my effort or devotion.' " I thoroughly enjoyed the thinly-veiled allusions to the religious world and the arrogance that comes with lofty position...
"One man remained - the priest. Not just any priest. He was the High Priest of the Luminescence from Clastair. He wore a mitred hat with tassels at the forehead and temples. The elevation of his nose bespoke his self-adoration. The favorite line of the Clastairian priesthood was: We are replicas of the High One, and as such are worthy of the highest salute." There was also humor. Little bits of humor peeking out from their hiding places - particularly when introducing Duffenwittle and the whole question of madness. Oh, the word plays.
"Define madness? I'd rather design a container for the universal solvent!" In this world where words have such power, so do beliefs - again much as they do in my "real" world.
"Truth is the only offensive weapon against deception, but there is also a defensive weapon called disbelief."
...
"Disbelieve. You must disbelieve."
"Something turned over in his mind. A lie fell away. He had believed in his enemies' power, and therefore they had power. He had given it to them." What a good read.

Having known this writer for more than 40 years I was already aware that he was a brilliant and creative man. I have listened to his sermons and enjoyed plays that he wrote. I have witnessed demonstrations of his inventions and played word games with him. Oh, yes, brilliant he was. But still I am impressed with the way he created an entire world and fabricated concepts and rules and words and languages to bring that world to life. Amazing. Simply amazing.

Buy Dreamwalker at Amazon in paperback or for your Kindle.

 

One from the road

Overheard in library...

Someone coming in the door: Is it okay if I read in here?
Librarian: Sure
Visitor:  Can I like get a book and read?
Librarian: Sure

...

To be fair... I had heard myself saying something similar when I came in earlier.
I had stopped and picked up several books from the piles that they have for sale outside.  As I carried them in through the door, I paused at the desk to ask if I could take them to my table to look through them before deciding whether to buy any.
So the person I heard may have been thinking something like that.
Who knows?

...

AND...
It was fun to see so many kids come to the library after school. 
- Three teens sitting on a couch looking at their phones. 
- Oops; one fell asleep. 
- Four younger kids at the computers. 
- Two others visiting quietly...

Wait; how many reading books?
Hmmm...
Well, at least they're at the library...

Does California have seasons?

Having lived my whole life in Michigan with its four distinct seasons, I may have had the impression that southern California had only one season - summer all the time. So I didn't know what to expect this spring; therefore I have been delighted by the sights and sounds and smells of spring.

Sure enough, things have been greening up around here. The grass at the park is looking good. As more leaves open up, the trees are getting thicker and the woods are filling in. We continue to be amazed at how green the mountains are getting. The orange blossoms are glorious. How cool to see orange trees bearing both mature oranges and blossoms at the same time. I didn't know they could do that.

One house on our street has a very cool flowering tree spilling over the fence onto the shoulder of the road.

The avocado trees are covered with huge bunches of blossoms and already seem loaded down - so it's hard to imagine how they will be able to carry the added weight of more fruit. No wonder the farmers prop up the branches with 2x4's! Rose bushes climb the chain-link fence to hide the avocado groves from sight.

And then there are the flowers! I was happy that were lots of flowers before, but I keep being surprised by new ones here and there. The red geraniums are multiplying and have now been joined by pink ones which were new to me.

Numerous clusters of ground cover produce a myriad of tiny delicate blossoms. Yesterday I learned that one type of "poor man's orchids" blossom for one day - and yes, I was introduced to them while they were blooming.

While talking about the sights of spring, I must include the small brilliantly orange bird that flew out of the orange grove this morning while I was walking past. I wonder what he is.

...

Spring is not only to be seen, but can also be heard. Yes, there seem to be new sounds - although I am ignorant of the time table for all of the sounds around here. One of the first that I noticed this spring came from the bees. Oh, the buzzing of the bees. As I walk through the park I keep hearing the hum of yet another swarm of bees overhead in the live oak trees.

Besides the auditory signal of the bees' presence, there is also visual evidence of them as well. I don't know how the bees coordinate their schedule with our human calendar, but we are learning how to tell that it is "bee season" in the orange groves - when the white netting is put over the rows and rows of trees. Local growers have explained that they spread the nets to keep out the bees so they can produce seedless Clementines. Yum!

There seem to be more bird sounds recently although again I am not nearly an expert and struggle to identify bird calls. I do know there is one that for some reason makes me think of my grandson - maybe because I can imagine him mimicking it. There is even a rooster in at least one neighbor's yard to remind us of life in the Dominican Republic.

The soft swishing sound of windmills can hardly compete with the slightly louder synchronized whine of the fans in the ends of the rows and rows and rows of greenhouses.   In the quiet of the evening I often hear a familiar sound that is similar to those back home in Michigan - namely the low purr of tractors in the fields next door. A few small John Deere tractors are used in our neighborhood as well as an old Ford that reminds me of the one I learned to drive on.

...

Yes, there are new sights and sounds that seem to have appeared this spring, and there are also new smells. Oh, the smells. Driving home from town is like stepping into a room where the wood has just been polished with orange oil, but oh, so much fresher and more wonderful. Naturally the smell was the strongest when the orange blossoms were in full bloom, but it continues. It is hard to identify the exact smells. Once in awhile I can isolate the eucalyptus and often catch the scent of mature oranges but mostly it is just this sweet tangy potpourri all the time. What a tantalizing aroma.

...

Okay; I am convinced. California does have seasons, too. I love the fact that I can live this season of my life in such a place with delightful sights, sounds and smells of spring.

 

You say you love us...

The battle lines have been drawn and there is so much bad feeling in the air between gays and Christians. I admit being fearful to say almost anything because of the likely backlash. But my heart breaks. When I hear the awful things said about gays, part of me wants to ask the person speaking, "What if it were your son? Your daughter?" I want to ask if they have given any thought to how it would feel in that case. Or "If it were true that your son or daughter were gay, how would it feel for them to hear what you are saying?"

Unfortunately I know that there are sons and daughters hiding in fear because they have heard what dad or mom or grandpa or grandma or some other relative is saying. They have heard the rants and know that they are not welcome - as long as they are gay. They have tried everything they know to "pray away the gay" or to "be healed" or whatever it takes. They have read the books that have been pushed on them and heard the testimonials of gays who "are better now." Unfortunately they also know the vast number of people who can't brag about stories like that because their prayers were not answered so happily. If they want to be accepted, they dare not be honest; their only option is to hide in fear.

Why does this have to be a battle? Why do we Christians like to turn it into something that we have to win? Why can't we love gays just the way they are? You know, sort of like we love other people just the way they are. Well, at least we are supposed to.

I rarely hear Christians ranting about divorced people and their evil agenda - and I'm glad it is rare. I can't remember the last time I heard someone calling out an obese friend for their gluttony and remind them that they are going to hell because of it. I'm really glad about the grace that covers that sin. So why in the world do we treat gay people the way we do? It breaks my heart and yes, I believe it breaks the heart of God. There I said it. So go ahead and judge me for being an ally or a liberal.

I wasn't always an ally - and could barely be called one now because I really don't like to make my conservative friends mad at me. In fact I have been heard saying some of those conservative lines. I'm embarrassed now by how unloving I must have sounded. My "love" was not what you could call unconditional. That was before I really knew a gay person well enough to just love him. Just plain love him.  You know, like I loved other people, faults and all. Before I hung out long enough to know what my precious lesbian friend is really going through and before I felt her pain in my gut.

Sometimes when I talk about this, people reply, "I don't hate gays; I just want them to understand the consequences of their sin." That leaves me confused - because I don't see them following that same logic with other people. I mean we are talking about nice people who don't make it a practice of going around pointing out the faults and sins in other people. They don't demand their friends to be free from sin before they'll stand alongside them. They don't have a habit of lecturing and preaching at people about their sin. Except gay people.

I suppose that's why this post by Justin Lee hit me so hard.

If you love gay people, why doesn't it seem like it?

Can malaise be a good thing?

I woke up aware of a touch of malaise. Just a touch, mind you. Not physical, but emotional, I guess. Not really feeling badly, just a sense of being less than satisfied. Or maybe fear. A fear that the days are going too quickly and I will end up being less than satisfied. Of our five months here, three are gone and I am remembering things that I wanted to do during this time and wondering if I will succeed in getting them done. Basically, I guess I'm beginning to be afraid that I might end up with regrets at the end of our time here. And I really don't like regrets.

I guess I could say much of the above about my life in general - not just this season - and maybe you could, too. That the days are going quickly. That I might not get done all that I want to. That I might end up with regrets at the end of my time...

Once I put fingers to keys and words to page, I can recognize that this is not a bad thing. To the contrary, it can be a very good thing - a chance to pause and re-evaluate my schedule and habits and rituals. Now. In the middle of this time frame. Now when there is still time to make course corrections. Time to figure out which expectations are/were realistic and time to decide which things are really important. Time to realign my priorities and to determine the steps to make the changes I choose to make.

Which things need more focus from me? Which things deserve less of my time? Time to take a hard look at the time-wasters that clamor for my attention. Time to recognize the pastimes that simply pass the time, but give me nothing in return. Those times and places I just drift into something that does not nurture my dreams and goals.

I recognize the blessing in this. I can see it as an opportunity. There is much to be thankful for here. I have options. I have opportunity. I have the ability to evaluate and to change course at least to some extent. I am responsible for my actions and my decisions, my habits and my routines.

This is a gift.

I have several kinds of freedom that many do not have and am deeply grateful for that. I am on a crazy adventure, for Pete's sake! At the same time I realize that much of the adventure is what I make of it. Even in this situation, I could easily drift into a state of complaining or grumping about the things that are less than perfect.

While I don't have an abundance of physical strength, I do have enough energy to take myself on walks. I have the cognitive ability to prioritize and to make changes. At this age, some of my peers no longer have that ability and I do not take it lightly.

So today is Thursday. Is it a thankful Thurday?

'Tis true that I did not wake up automatically feeling thankful. But then that's not what thankful Thursday is all about. It wasn't a wish that I would always wake up feeling thankful. Not a chart to put stars on to commemorate how many times that happened. Instead it was meant to be a sort of ritual, if you will, a reminder that I can choose to be thankful. I hoped it would help me develop the habit of being thankful - even it it means having to search for the good. Because I want to be a thankful person.

Today is thankful Thursday if I choose to be thankful. Once again.

...

So that word "malaise"? A general sense of ill-being. Yah, it might not seem like a positive word. But... But it CAN be a great thing - if we use it as motivation to pause and reflect and to diagnose things that need to be changed.

Today I am thankful indeed for the freedom and the ability to go through that process.
But please excuse me now while I go get to work and make some of those changes...
How about you?