The Atheist Dilemma

For the last four years, I've made it a goal of mine to try to understand atheists.  I stress that word - understand ­- because no amount of logical thinking leads me to a resolution wherein I might agree with them.  I mean, I know God exists from my own personal interaction with him, so that won't change.  But I had hoped to at least be able to understand their point of view - to be able to follow their line of reasoning to a point where I could say "You know what? I get it.  I see why you believe there is no God."

I mean, I can understand why some might ask "How do you know your God is the right one?" or "How can you claim to know God's intentions?" or the ever common question of "If God is so good, why does he allow bad things to happen to innocent people?"  I understand these questions.  I have answers of my own, but again, they come from my personal interaction with God - something that the non-believer wouldn't have had without first taking a step of faith.  So I can see why someone who does not have a relationship with God might ask these things.

What I can't fathom is why people claim the absence of God to be an absolute fact.  Not one specific God, mind you, but any God.  The statement "There is no God" to me is akin to being handed a sealed box and told "There's no cookie in this box."  If you haven't opened the box to find out, how can you know for sure?  We've explored such a small fragment of a fragment of a fragment of the entire universe.  How can humans presume to know so much from that small fragment that we can actually say "There is no God."?  We haven't explored the entire universe - the entire cookie box, so to speak - so how can we say for sure?

I've talked with a lot of atheists over the past four years.  I've tried to engage them in debate.  I've tried to get them to explain to me what it is that makes them so certain that God does not exist.  Most of them sidestepped my questions.  I'd get responses like, "I'm not here to teach you.  Go look it up yourself," or the ever common "I can't help you if you're too stupid to see common sense."  It's hard to get any real answers from them.  And if they did afford me the opportunity to ask deeper questions, most stopped replying at that point.

Part of the problem, I've noticed, is that atheists state you cannot use religious texts to support your claims, nor can you use the idea that "God did it" to explain things that science claims to be impossible.  So trying to get them to acknowledge the possibilities of a divine being would mean trying to do so through human means - scientific means.  Of course, we have no scientific evidence that directly links our universe to a God, so atheists conclude there is no God.  The most confusing circle of logic for me is when you ask them how science proved there is no God.  They state it is not up to science to prove it - it is up the religious community.  Then why do they cite science when trying to support their claims that there is no God?  "You can't prove a negative," they say, meaning you can't prove it if you say something doesn't exist.  But you can - I can open the box and see whether or not there is a cookie inside.  If it isn't, I've proven there is no cookie.  With God, the universe is the box.  We have yet to explore the entire thing, so how can we say if the cookie is there or not?

The argument of Russell's Teapot has been brought up on more than one occasion.  If you are unfamiliar with it, the concept came from a philosopher named Bertrand Russell.  He stated that if one claimed a teapot was out in space orbiting the sun, it would make no sense for people to believe him just because they can't prove him wrong.  My problem with this notion is that technically, there are circumstances in which his claims could be verified.  If we had spacecraft traveling longer distances, or if we used a satellite or unmanned craft, we could verify or disprove the claim.  But for the sake of argument, let's just say we couldn't verify his claim.  Does that mean that it is a fact that there's no teapot out there?  Or would it be more reasonable to say  "There could be a teapot, but we have no way of proving it."?  Because regardless of whether or not it could be proven, if the teapot is out there beyond the reach of human observation, then the claim is correct.  How, then, can we say for a fact that there is no teapot based solely on a lack of observation?

Science is often quoted by the atheists I've spoke with.  The concept that science has learned how the various systems and mechanics of the universe work - systems that were once attributed a God or Gods - seems to make some atheists believe that the only reason early man believed in God was because we couldn't explain things like eclipses or the rising/falling of the sun.  Once science learned how they worked, atheists say the need for God disappeared.  Again, this seems illogical to me.

This argument could be compared to a man who discovers a car for the first time.  He disassembles it, studies it, reassembles it, and figures out how to use it.  That's what we've done with science - we've learned how the various systems of the universe work, how the human body works, how the earth has changed over the years, and invented ways of managing all of it in our day to day lives.  None of this explains how the car (universe) came to be or who assembled it in the first place.  If matter can neither be created nor destroyed, then we all must have come from some unknown piece of original matter.  OK, so where did that come from?  And whatever the answer is, how then did that come into existence?  How did the space in which this matter resides come into existence?  How did the very laws of the universe come to be formed, and what holds them in place?

I don't say these things to somehow "prove" God did it all.  I say them to illustrate just how little we know - too little to be able to say for sure that he didn't.

One person encouraged me to watch a Discovery Channel special where Stephen Hawking explains his theories about how life in the universe began.  I watched the entire special online so that I could learn what this well-known and highly-respected scientific mind had to say about the origins of the universe.  Unfortunately, zero questions were answered.  If anything, it gave me even more questions to ask.  Hawking postulates that the beginnings of the universe itself spontaneously popped into existence from nothing.  Comparing to a certain type of particle (I watched this a while ago, so I don't remember the name) that has been observed to pop in and out of existence randomly and spontaneously, Hawking says it's very possible that the same could be said of the initial makings of our universe.  How this argument disproves God in his mind is beyond me - if anything, it supports the Christian Genesis story.

When faced with these questions, most atheists reply with "Well, we are still learning and experimenting every day, so the questions we don't know the answers to will one day be answered."  But for me, the important questions will not be answered.  You can tell me how something works, but if you cannot tell me how it came to be and why it happened that way, it will not disprove the existence of God.  You can describe how each of the processes of the universe function together and why they are necessary, but if you can't tell me what makes them go, why they work that way, what fuels the engine of this plane of existence, then you cannot rule out the possibility of a God as the driving force behind it all.

Contradictions in religious texts are another hot button topic for atheists - if there are apparent contradictions in the text, then it must not be true.  First off, most of what seem to be contradictions can be explained by differing points of view.  Think of it this way: You're walking down a crowded New York City street minding your own business.  You hear a commotion behind you and turn around to see a car smash into another car.  The two of them then hit a bus while fleeing pedestrians run in all directions.  Some are knocked over and trampled, others escape just fine, and still others stand still watching the chaos.  The police arrive and start interviewing people.  Do you think each person's account of the accident is going to be identical?  It's unlikely.  Does that mean the event didn't occur?

Other contradictions arise from scientific discoveries that seem to counter the Bible's claims.  The great flood, for example, is often cited as being scientifically impossible because the atmosphere can only hold just so much moisture.  This is where the "God did it" argument gets so much flak. But is it impossible that God did it?  Well, to disprove the idea, one would first have to disprove the existence of God.  We already know we can't do that, so how can we rule out the "God did it" possibility?  Yes, it seems like yet another easy answer to explain something that, at the time, couldn't be otherwise explained.  But again, without disproving God, we can't know that for sure.

And why is the existence of such a divine being so impossible to begin with?  We see differing levels of intelligence in our own world.  A dog can't perform complex mathematical calculations.  A monkey can't draw up designs for a suspension bridge.  We are the most intellectually superior beings on this planet.  But what about the universe?  Are we really so pompous as to think that there is nothing out there that might possess a higher level of intelligence than we do?  And if there is something out there with an intelligence beyond our own, why is it so unfathomable that this level of intelligence might allow it to manipulate the laws of time and space in ways we cannot? 

One atheist recently argued with me that the ability to imagine something doesn't make it exist.  "I could tell you that there are sixteen magic unicorns living in the core of Mars, but that wouldn't make it true.  Without empirical evidence to support that claim, one would have to conclude that it is false."  Just because you can think of an absurd concept doesn't automatically mean that ANYTHING we cannot observe ourselves is automatically untrue or nonexistent. How can we presume we are so intelligent that we know whether or not there is a divine being? How can we presume that the fact that this being has never physically shown itself to us means it isn't there? How can we presume that our understanding of scientific principals is the highest understanding there can ever be? For that matter, how can we presume that this is the only universe? How can we presume there are no other planes of existence - alternate dimensions or universes where God may reside? Humans can't even make it back to their own moon, yet they presume to know enough to declare no sort of divine being could have ever existed.  It boggles my mind.

During these conversations, I've been accused of being unable to think objectively, rationally, or logically. How is it objective, rational, and logical to assume that there is no God when we have not discovered each and every place intelligent life may exist? How could humans possibly have observed the presence or absence of a God if we've not yet explored every inch of the universe (or other universes, if there are any)?  I've yet to have an atheist provide any real answers to any of these questions.

Another argument often posed is that a loving God would not allow the injustices of the world to happen.  People seem to think that God's purpose is to heed to every request/demand we have and solve the problems of society. We still have world hunger? Blame God. Men raping women? Blame God. Children dying of disease? Blame God. The problem is that they are placing God on the same level as humanity and judging his actions accordingly. But as the creator, he is above any other being and therefore above judgment. How arrogant are we to expect to tell a divine being what he should or should not do?  He possesses a higher level of intelligence and understanding than human beings are capable of, and to expect to understand everything he does is unreasonable.

In reality, man has been given free reign over the Earth. These things don't get fixed by God because they're not God's responsibility to fix. They are our problems, our trials, and our responsibilities.  If our children are starving, it's because we aren't taking care of them.  Not God, but us.

The final, and possibly the most common, argument against the existence of God is the actions of people who claim to follow him.  Religious zealots wage war on unbelievers.  Homosexuals are shunned by churches.  Priests are molesting children.  It's easy to highlight the belief systems of these types of people because their actions are quite the opposite.  Religion is an easy front - in the eyes of the offender, saying "God told me to do it" provides a way of shirking moral responsibility for their crimes.  But man is responsible for man's crimes, no matter who they try to blame.  If someone walked into a mall with a gun and started shooting everyone in the name of atheism, it wouldn't mean that all atheists are evil.  Further, this entire argument holds no water because the shameful acts of an evil man have no bearing on whether or not God exists - regardless of what the crime was. 

So, sadly, after all of this I find myself no closer to understanding atheists than I was four years ago.  I just don't see how it is logical to state "There is no God" without proof.  The atheist will respond to that statement by saying "I don't see how it is logical to state "There is a God" without proof.  I can understand that, but it makes far more sense to me to at least acknowledge the possibility rather than write it off entirely.

I'm sorry, guys.  I really do want to understand.  It just doesn't seem rational to me.

God bless,

Kevin

Be Prepared

I feel like I've been preparing for all the wrong things in life.  Or maybe not enough of the right ones.  Either way, as life rolls on and I get older, challenges arise and things change.  I knew all of it was coming.  I knew I wouldn't be a kid forever.  I knew family members wouldn't be around forever.  But I didn't realize how much the inevitable winds of change would tear a hole in my world.

When I was in elementary school, I was told that I needed to work hard and be prepared because middle school was much harder.  I'd have different teachers for most subjects, and none of them would care about my responsibilities to any class other than theirs.  I mentally prepared myself for the academic challenges that awaited.  But when I got there, it wasn't the amount of schoolwork or the complexity of the material that caught me off-guard.  It was the heartlessness of my classmates.

Suddenly, I was interacting with kids from the other elementary schools who had been combined with mine, and not many of them liked me.  At the same time, many of my old friends from elementary school turned their backs on me as new cliques were formed and old friendships were tossed aside.  Adolescence had arrived, and with it came the race for popularity that would last straight through high school.

During my high school years, I was warned that I had to take the work seriously because college would be a hundred times harder and the workforce even worse.  I ended up holding off on college and getting a job first, so I mentally prepared myself to be worked to the bone.  I wasn't going to complain about the responsibilities I was given.  I wasn't going to complain about the endless hours on my feet.  I wasn't going to stress about the workload.

But the workload turned out to be surprisingly easy.  I did really well and was promoted several times over the next few years.  The workload wasn't my problem.  It was the people and the politics.  My first job was retail, so I was given my first exposure to the heartless underbelly of humanity known as the "customer."  I had no problems helping people find what they needed - that's what I expected to be doing.  But their attitudes were not what I had expected. Customers were heartless and mean.  I honestly didn't see it coming.  The poor attitudes of many of my coworkers complicated matters as well.  I'd been led to believe that working a real job meant being a part of a team.  But I soon learned that many employees only looked out for themselves.

When I did go to college, I got better grades there than I did in high school.  The workload was almost laughably easy (with the exception of math, my weak point - curse you, numbers!).

When I moved out of my mother's house, I was warned that I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  I was moving 900 miles away to a state with no family of my own.  I was told that the stress of being responsible for keeping a roof over our heads (mine and Laura's) in today's economy would crush me.  I was warned that I wouldn't be able to handle the responsibilities of living on my own and that I wasn't prepared for all of the expenses that go into independent living. 

But none of that stuff has been an issue for me.  What I now struggle with is the prospect of a life that is completely new, an unpaved road that is, for the moment, completely unfamiliar to me.  And the worst part is that it's a one-way street.  Everything I was familiar with - the things I now lack - are things that can never be a part of my life again.  Even if I were to quit my job and move back to the New York/New Jersey area, I still wouldn't be able to regain what I've lost.

I was not prepared for that.

I've always known that a day would come when I'd lose my parents.  And I always thought "I don't know how in the world I'm going to handle that."  But growing up, all I really worried about was how I'd react when either of my parents died.  What I didn't think of was how I would cope in the years that would follow.

And it's been like that for a lot of things.  We used to own a house in Point Pleasant.  It was my favorite place in the world - and still is.  I'd give anything to have that house back, but we had to sell it years ago, and it has since been renovated to the point that it barely resembles our old place.  Even if I could afford it, the house I spent countless summers enjoying is no longer there.  No matter what I do, I can't get it back.

These are the things I wish I'd been prepared for.  I miss the days when my mother, father, sister, and myself would spend a weekend down the shore.  I miss the days when Mom would make a big dinner and the whole family would sit around the table with Dad at the end making bad puns.  I miss spending holidays with my family and taking trips to Vermont to see my brother.  I miss playing video games with my other brother before he'd go out every evening.  I miss the summer nights when my father, my uncle, and our neighbor Bobby would sit outside talking about who-knows-what while my sister and I looked at stars through a telescope.  I miss Fourth of July barbeques at my uncle's pool and going to fireworks with everyone afterward.  And I miss all the family members we've lost over the years, whether by death or by choice.

I realize that I've entered the second part of my life.  I knew it was coming, and I know that it's up to me to create new traditions, new favorite places, and new memories.  But sometimes nostalgia can be a psychological tormentor reminding me that I'll never wake up in Point Pleasant to the sound of Mom returning with morning donuts, I'll never share another "Dad walk" with my father, and I'll never spend another Christmas in our house in New Jersey.

That's not to say I have nothing great in my life now.  I really do.  First and foremost, I have Laura to walk beside me, and that's the biggest blessing I could've ever asked for.  We are creating all of our own traditions as the years go by, making our own memories, and enjoying our lives together.  And, to my surprise, I actually enjoy living in Missouri.  I'm sure I'll settle in on this new path eventually, but the transition has been tougher than I expected not because of the responsibilities that come with it, but because of everything I've lost along the way.

Life has changed so much and I've just been running to catch up.  I spent so much time focusing on and preparing for the responsibilities of life that I forgot to respect the intangibles that make life worth living.  It's not that I don't appreciate the things I have now.  And it's not that I didn't appreciate the shore house or the family holidays when we had them.

I just wasn't prepared for them to be gone so soon.

So remember every day to appreciate the blessings you have, whether they are memories, family, or anything else.  Let the people closest to you know you feel about them, and cherish every moment you have with them.  After all, "Time is short, and suddenly you're not there anymore."

I love and miss you guys.

God bless,

Kevin

Origin

The following story is fictional... I think.

Many years ago, a man died of a severe flu.  He was an evil man who delighted in tormenting others, so it was no surprise that he wound up in hell.

As part of his punishment, his illness followed him beyond the void, sentencing him to an eternity of stuffy noses, upset stomachs, sore throats, and painful coughs.  Satan found joy in this, smiling at every sniffle and laughing with every wheeze.

After a few years, the man's relentless sickness drove him to madness.  While walking through the halls of hell, his eyes fell upon the smoldering coals lining the floor.  Desperate to alleviate the pain in his throat, he snatched up one of these coals and stuffed it into his mouth in an attempt to burn a hole through his esophagus.

Surprisingly, his plan worked. And Satan took notice.  He called the man into his chambers the following day to offer him a proposition.

"I know you have taken coals from the halls of my den and cured your ailment," Satan said.  "I will allow you to communicate with a few of my associates in the mortal realm.  They are greedy men, business associates eager to store up their wealth by any means necessary.  You will inform them of your discovery, and provide them with instructions to create their own coals.  In this, my most dastardly plan, I shall bring searing pain and misery upon the living through the promise of healing.  And the men will become wealthy and powerful servants of mine while you become one of my trusted advisers."

The man did as Satan commanded.  He appeared in a dream to one of the businessmen and instructed him how to make coals similar to those found in the halls of hell.  The businessman, inspired by his vision, followed the instructions and created a new treatment for sore throats, a red coal shaped like an oblong marble, tainted with an artificial cherry flavor to distract customers from the pain, and branded with a trademark signifying their origin.

This is the origin of "Halls" cough drops.

The "Almighty" Cloud

I am deeply concerned about the direction of technology these days.  We've seen a lot of positive advances in the field, many of which have been very beneficial for authors in particular.  But there's a word which has been growing in popularity that has made me increasingly nervous.

I'm talking about the "cloud."

For those not familiar, the cloud is a term used to describe offsite data storage.  The promotional idea behind it is the simple fact that you would no longer need to worry about storage space, data backup, and physical media.  Everything from your saved documents to your video games to your music and movies would be stored on a server somewhere else, giving you virtually limitless data storage and media access.

That's how companies like Microsoft and Apple want you to see it, anyway.

I see a far different reality in the not-so-distant future.

Several years back, Microsoft introduced Xbox Live.  While not the first online gaming service for home consoles, it was certainly the most complete package available at that time.  With it came promises of eventual downloadable content (or DLC) that could extend the life of your games with patches, new levels, additional characters, and much more - for a price.  DLC didn't really take off until the Xbox 360 was released.

When it started, DLC was in no way a requirement.  Games were shipped complete, and any DLC available was simple; they'd provide a new horse for your in-game character or maybe a novelty arena for a hockey game.  DLC cost money, but anyone not interested in paying for it didn't really miss out on anything significant.

Fast forward to today.  DLC has become more and more prevalent and, in some cases, almost necessary.  You can get additional characters for Street Fighter.  There are additional missions for Mass Effect.  New multiplayer maps are frequently released for most popular shooters.  Some DLC is only available by pre-ordering your game at one retailer as opposed to another.  Buy that shooter at Best Buy?  Then you can get a specific in-game weapon that people who purchased at GameStop won't ever have access to.  Buy at Walmart?  You can get an additional character download that other retailers won't provide.

But here's where things are starting to get dirty.  First off, companies are releasing game discs with DLC data ON THE DISC.  You can't have access to it, of course, until you pay for the content online.  But the data is there on the disc you've already paid for.  It's a sneaky and immoral way for companies to try to squeeze more money out of players.  Second, downloaded content is becoming more and more important to the multiplayer aspect of games.  Shooters, especially, have new maps coming out seemingly every week (exaggeration, but you get the point), and since so many players fork over the cash, those who haven't purchased DLC have more trouble finding games.  Or, in the case of games like Call of Duty, you can get a game, but your lack of DLC restricts EVERY player to only the multiplayer maps you have.  And, as you might imagine, that will often earn you an expletive laden verbal assault from other players who don't want to play the "same old maps" over and over.


So what does all of this have to do with the cloud?

Well, as DLC popularity has risen, so have the prices.  A pack of 3-4 new multiplayer maps for Call of Duty will typically cost you $15.  Fifteen bucks for a couple of maps.  That's a quarter of the price of a brand new game!  The makers of Street Fighter release a pack of four new characters and a couple of interface adjustments and calls it a whole new game, charging players another $30 to access it.  Keep in mind that players already pay $50 a year for Xbox Live to begin with in addition to the cost of the console and the original game itself.

Worse yet, sadly to say, my former favorite developer - Square Enix - has finally delivered the ultimate slap in the face.  Their latest release, Final Fantasy XIII-2, ends with a "To Be Continued" message.  When questioned, director Motomu Toriyama stated that the ending is leaving room for DLC and the game's multiple "Paradox Endings."  In other words, you shell out $60 for a game, play through to the end, and get told to pay more in order to finish it.  It suggests what I've feared all along:  Our living rooms, bedrooms, family rooms, and everywhere else are being turned into home arcades.  Plunk down your money to play, get through a few levels, then be forced to pay more to continue.  Sure, it's not that bad yet, but I could easily see the industry reaching that point within ten years.

And I have the same concerns regarding the "cloud."

Right now, we have - for the most part - control over our media.  We can download music from iTunes and save it to our computers to be either burned to CD or shifted to an MP3 player.  We can still get hard copies of games and movies and music in stores.  And we can save our files on hard drives built into our computers or external backups.  The data is ours to do with as we please (legally, of course), and we never have to pay for it again.

But the cloud has already appeared in some ways.  Netflix, for example, is a cloud-based movie service.  You have access to all kinds of TV shows and movies storied on Netflix's servers, and for a fee, you can access them.  Likewise, there's a game service called OnLive that does the same thing for video games.  For a monthly fee plus the price of the game, you get online access to any games they offer.  All information is stored on their databases; you don't need a fancy computer or the latest game console.  Just money.  Every month.  But if you don't pay every month, you don't have access to anything, no matter how much you've already paid.

See where this is going?

If the cloud becomes universally accepted by the technology world just as DLC was accepted by the gaming world, we could find ourselves paying monthly fees for everything and anything.  Movies, music, games, and even data storage could all come with access fees because, after all, those companies need money to maintain the servers and data backups.  As time goes on, physical media will become a thing of the past because it's easier to just click a button to download a purchase.  Need storage space?  Pay a subscription fee, click a button, pay a product fee, and you'll have terabytes at your disposal.  Want the latest Batman movie?  Pay a subscription fee, click a button, pay a product fee, and be watching within minutes.  The ease of use will be the main marketing point, but inwardly, these corporate executives will be laughing all the way to the bank.  EVERY month.  But if you cancel your subscription, you lose access to everything you've already paid for.

Do you know why companies like Best Buy and Staples push services plans on technological purchases?  Because services are considered pure profit.  It is one of the few ways that you can take a customers money without handing them a physical product in return.  Digital media will be viewed the same way.  In fact, it already is.  When iTunes tries to sell you a digital download of XYZ Band's latest album, they may as well be saying, "Would you like to purchase a warranty plan?" There's no CD, no case, no physical product of any kind changing hands.

Without a physical product in the customer's hands, the power is ALL in the developer's hands.  Fees will be small to start, but as physical media fades away and the cloud becomes king, our society will be trapped in a system that gives all the financial control to businesses and other organizations that have one simple demand: Every dollar in our wallets.  Next thing you know, access fees begin to rise.  Then, "processing" fees will be instituted.  Online purchase taxes.  Pretty soon, purchasing a copy of a movie will entail a $9.99 per month subscription to a service, $20 purchase fee for the movie itself, $2.50 online purchase tax, standard sales tax, and whatever else the developers and distributors want to tack on.  Worse, because we will have allowed ourselves to be forced into this system, there will be no way out.

Additionally, if this sort of technology extends beyond entertainment and into standard computer use as Microsoft and Apple and others are pushing for (the cloud is already a part of Apple's latest iOS), we'll soon find ourselves buying computers with minimal hard drive space because we'll be able to store as much data as we need on the cloud.  Once that becomes standard, Microsoft could decide to charge monthly for access to the cloud.  Suddenly, that book you're writing, that assignment you're working on, that presentation you need for work, they could all be held ransom each month by the providers of the cloud until you pay access fees.  People will grumble just as they do about the prices of Microsoft Office.  But people will pay just as they do to purchase Microsoft Office.

Is any of this going to happen for absolute certain?  I have no idea.  But if DLC has taught us anything, it's that we need to be very careful which powers we entrust to the powers that distribute digital data.  Gamers have allowed themselves to take the bait, and now game developers are reeling in more dollars every day.  If we don't want to see that happen to all aspects of media, society needs to reject the cloud as a whole.

Spread the word.

God bless,
Kevin

Pointless Sex

Now that I have your attention...

Laura had me watch "Water for Elephants" the other night.  It wasn't a bad movie, but it wasn't exactly one I'd rush out to buy, either.  It's about a guy who is set to graduate from school and get his license in veterinary medicine.  His parents die in a car accident, their assets are seized due to debts, and he suddenly finds himself homeless.  With nowhere to go, he winds up with a traveling circus taking care of the animals.

Three-quarters of the way through the story, there is a sex scene.  Nothing graphic or over-the-top, just your regular could-be-aired-on-TV sex scene.  While it was playing, I started thinking about sex scenes as a storytelling tool.  And I've come to a conclusion:  I don't understand them.

Whether in books, movies, TV shows, or video games, I just don't see the purpose.  From a storyline perspective, they don't accomplish anything.  It's not like sex means anything to the average person anymore.  What was once the most intimate expression of love between a husband and wife is now just as commonplace as shaking hands.  So I'm not sure what purpose these scenes serve.

Watching this one, I looked at Laura and asked, "Is this supposed to mean that they're passionately in love?  Because this is the same exact premise of '16 and Pregnant,' and we all know how those stories turn out."  A sex scene in a movie doesn't do anything to emphasize or define or characterize love between two people because - let's face it - the amount of people who have sex out of honest-to-God love is minimal these days.  Our entertainment, our media, and our society all glorify sex so much that it has lost any and all of the significance it once held.  It's an everyday thing now, an activity that takes place between two willing participants (That's really teh only requirement these days.  They don't need to be married or in love - they don't even need to like each other!).

So how is a sex scene supposed to have any impact on the story when it is something teenagers do simply to shed the dreaded "virgin" title?  When college students use it as a recreational activity?  When companies use it to sell products?  When girls have babies simply because they're lonely?  When men carry the number of women they've slept with as a badge of honor?

On the flip side, a story that emphasizes an actual emotional connection can accomplish wonders that sex scenes simply can't.  I become far more invested in characters who interact well, can play off one another's individual characteristics, and who always find their way to each other no matter what obstacles or circumstances stand between them.  At that point, there's no need for a sex scene because it would add nothing to the already established relationship.  Characters should be about character, not what goes on behind closed doors.

I realize that I don't speak for everyone.  But as someone who loves a good storyline, I can't think of a single instance where a sex scene has added anything to the depth or strength of a story that wasn't already there.  They feel like filler scenes to me - a chance to refill my soda, skip ahead a few pages, or change the channel.  You don't have to agree; I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who could do without a fantasy sword duel or sci-fi space battle.  Everyone's got their own thing.

The sex scene ain't mine.

God bless,
Kevin

The Publishing "Deal"

Last year, I was approached by someone claiming to be a representative from a publishing company.  A quick look at his facebook page made me immediately skeptical (his only "Likes" just so happened to be the same as mine, and the publishing company he claimed to represent didn't publish sci-fi/fantasy material) but I played along with it just to see what would happen.  He claimed his company was interested in publishing my Fourth Dimension series and asked if I'd like to know more.  Know more?  Of course.  Reach a deal?  That I wasn't so sure about.

It turned out to be a hoax as expected, but the situation raised some interesting questions.  If I was given the chance to publish my books through a traditional publishing house, would I take that opportunity?  Years ago, the answer would've been a resounding "YES!"  But what about now?

In December of 2007, the first draft of Eye of the Tornado was completed.  I was very happy with the story I'd created and was excited to share it with the world.  I spent the first couple of months of 2008 editing and revising each of the three Fourth Dimension books before sending submissions to various publishers and agents.

I spent the rest of 2008 like so many other writers:  Coming home from work to find various letters and postcards telling me that my work wasn't what they were looking for at that time.

I had been trying to get published for years.  My earliest attempt was back in 2004.  I read through all kinds of different websites and books for advice on the subject.  I looked at other people's sample query letters and read interviews with published authors on how they got into the business.  Everything I found lead me to believe that talented authors with quality products will get published while mediocre authors with less-than-polished work will be rejected.  Seems obvious enough, right?  So, with my books being constantly rejected, I assumed that I needed to hone my craft a bit more.  If the quality of my work improved, then my chances of being published would increase as a result.

But a nagging voice of logic in the back of my head was telling me something different.

Whenever I received a rejection letter, I automatically told myself that it was because my work wasn't good enough.  I didn't pay too much attention to any other possible factors until I decided to go ahead and self-publish in 2010.   When I received my first review - a 5-star review on Key to the Stars - I stopped for a minute and said, "Wait a minute.  Someone likes my writing?"  Over time, more positive feedback started coming in.  I actually had people emailing me asking when I'd be releasing more books.  I was completely blown away.  The self-depreciating mindset instilled in me by the publishing industry's responses had led me to assume that there was no way I'd be able to attract an audience.

They were wrong.

And so was I.

This forced me to look at the other factors relating to publishing rejections, and I realized for the first time that the traditional publishing houses base their publishing selections on many more factors than just quality of work.  And these factors keep many hard-working authors from reaching readers not because their books aren't good enough, but because the publisher doesn't consider them marketable for a variety of reasons. 

For the sake of argument, let's just say that you're a talented author with the potential to be an award-winning best-seller one day.  And you're trying to publish your first novel.

First and foremost, it is important to note that the majority of publishers only release a handful of books each year.  With thousands of manuscript submissions coming in every month, the odds of yours being selected for publication are slim-to-none.  Obviously, a well-written book will have better chances, but there's no way I'm going to believe that out of thousands of manuscript submissions received, the three-to-five books released by a publisher in a given year are the only bookstore-worthy titles.  Even if only twenty of those books were fantastic pieces of work, fifteen talented writers would be sent the same rejection letters that the less-than-polished authors received. 

Then there's subject matter.  In my case, it's no secret that sci-fi and fantasy are crowded genres.  There are a lot of us out here writing tales of swords and sorcery and adventures amongst the stars.  With so many trying to make it, the odds of being chosen for publication automatically drop.  Of those five books the publisher releases, how many will be fantasy books?  One?  Two, perhaps?  Cut another three authors from the list for no other reason than their chosen genre.

Now we're down to two open spots.  And guess what!  One of those spots automatically goes to the publisher's big name author who is releasing a new novel that year.  So now there's only one spot open for you.  Out of all of your genre's submissions that the publishing house received throughout the course of the year, you're all vying for the single open slot.  Of those top twenty hard-working authors, nineteen are about to be sent home because there's only one opening.  Not because their books aren't well-written.  Not because they couldn't attract an audience.  Not because they aren't talented.  There's simply one spot left.

"Wait, what's that?  Snooki wants to put out a book!?  GET EVERY EDITOR WE HAVE ON THAT AND MAKE SURE WE GET THAT OUT TO BOOKSTORES IMMEDIATELY!"

Yep. You just lost your spot to Snooki.

And just like that, you've lost your opportunity to be published based on factors that have absolutely nothing to do with the quality of your book.  The odds are heavily stacked against you - even if you're a previously published author.  You can try to get an agent as many authors do, but when it comes down to it, the obstacles in securing a literary agent are quite similar to those in securing a publishing deal.  Each agent has their own genres they handle, and like publishers, they can only accept so many clients before their workload is full.  And, just like publishers, they'd rather take a Snooki than a Joe Schmoe because - let's face it - Snooki's book provides a better guarantee of a financial return.

Now, with a more complete understanding of how the publishing industry works and how a well-written book isn't all it takes to be selected for publication, I don't feel quite so bad about all of those rejection letters.

On the flip side, self-publishing through ebooks has given millions of authors the opportunity to find their own audiences.  Where publishing houses were once the gatekeepers of the literary world, ebooks have blown those gates wide open, knocking down the barriers between authors and readers.  Now, authors are free to write what they want, how they want, and when they want without having to listen to a publisher tell them which subjects are marketable or which characters are likable.  No longer do authors need to worry about hot topics and market trends.  With ebooks, the creative control is 100% where it belongs: In the hands of the author.

Likewise, self-published ebooks have benefited readers in a variety of ways.  No longer do they have to let publishing houses tell them which books are good, which books are bad, which genres are hot, which trends are old, or anything else about what they should be reading.  Not only that, lower prices and free content are abundant within the indie author scene, a stark contrast to the works released by traditional houses.

With five books published on all major ebook platforms and readers from a number of countries around the world, I find myself in a position I never could've reached through traditional publishing.  I am able to share my art with people around the world.  And the response has been both humbling and heart-warming.

I haven't submitted my work to any traditional publishers since 2008, and as of now, I have no plans to.  Perhaps, one day, if the situation is right and the return is worth the investment, I might consider it.  But right now, I'm going to continue to enjoy the opportunities I've been given with the doors that have been opened to me.

God bless,
Kevin

The Need to Create

Picture this, if you will.

A teenage Jim walks into the kitchen one morning carrying a stuffed frog.  He proceeds to dance the frog around while singing a song in a silly voice, pretending that the frog is putting on a show for his mother.  And when he finishes, he looks at his mother and says, "I'm going to dedicate my life to doing this."

What do you think she said?  How did she react?

Now put yourself in that position.  However, change the dancing frog to whatever your passion may be.  Playing guitar, writing books, dancing, acting, painting, wrestling - whatever you enjoy doing.  You enter a room of family and friends and proceed to perform your chosen interest.  For the sake of this example, let's say you've written a short story and you want to read it to them.  When you're finished, you say to them, "I'm going to dedicate my life to doing this."

What do you think they'd say?  How would they react?

Perhaps they'll cheer you on.  Perhaps they'll throw their full support behind your dream.  I've been lucky enough to have some supporters of my own goals.  But from my experience, there may be others who don't have as much faith in you.  There may be skepticism.  Criticism.  Flat-out discouragement.  After all: "It's nearly impossible to break into that field."  And: "You'll have to fight against all the competition out there.  Professional competition."  Or the cliche response: "You'll never make any money doing that."

Or worse yet, as someone close to me once said, "You'll never get published."

How would you react to that?  What would you do?

Let's say, for the sake of argument, that Jim's mother says something like that in response to his dancing frog routine.  And Jim listens.  Instead of pursuing a career as a puppeteer, Jim decides to start a business career, and years later, he gets a high-level executive job.  The pay is good.  The benefits are good.  Life is good.  But Jim is miserable.  He's stuck in a corporate suit promoting someone else's product and contributing nothing of his own interests and creations to society.  And worse yet, the world has been deprived of a piece of entertainment history that would've captivated the hearts of children and adults for decades to come.

The world has been deprived of The Muppets.

Now, as a disclaimer, let me just say that I have no idea how Jim Henson first told his parents of his interest in being a puppeteer nor do I know how they reacted.  I used the above scenario as an example to illustrate the potential consequences of allowing naysayers to stop us from pursuing our goal.

I realize the fact that for every one person deemed a commercial success, there are thousands, tens of thousands, and even millions who fail to reach that level. I get that.  I don't expect to be a millionaire author (though I'm not opposed to it!) and I'm not counting on it.  But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up doing what I love.  It doesn't mean I'm going to abandon all hope and get a job I don't want just because it's a rough road.  I only get to live once, and I'll be damned if I'm going to find myself lying on my deathbed one day going, "What if I'd just tried harder?"

I can tell you this:  I can't imagine a scenario where I'd be lying on my deathbed saying, "I wish I'd spent more time at the office."

But let me make it clear:  If working in the business environment is your thing, more power to you.  If that's what makes you happy, if that's what fulfills your need to contribute something of yourself to the world, and if that's what you truly have a passion for, then pursue that path and never look back.  The things I say about the business world and the "corporate suit" apply to me and only me.  It's not my thing, and I won't be motivated to do something when my heart isn't in it.

So how about the rest of you?  What do you have to contribute to the world that is you and only you?  Do you like to sing?  Tell stories?  Have you come up with an invention?  Do you have a talent for sculpting things out of glass?  Stone?  Do you love a sport?  Are you passionate about government and leadership?

Whatever it is, whatever your dreams, whatever your passions, I urge you:  Do NOT let anyone or anything stop you from pursuing them.  Even with zero support from others, if you feel the overpowering and relentless need to create, go out there and do it.  Everyone must choose their own path in life.  We can't let others dictate our roles in the world or what contributions we can or cannot make to society.  Every piece of the puzzle is important.  Everyone from carpenters to comedians have their place, and each serves a purpose whether it be to put a roof over someone's head or put joy into their heart.  It will be tough; I'm not saying that it won't.  It will require dedication, sacrifice, struggle, heartache, perseverance, and above all else, passion.  But if the need to create is there, the rest will come so long as you don't allow anyone or anything to stand in your way.

If Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird had allowed anyone to dissuade them from self-publishing their comic book (originally a parody of Marvel Comic's The New Mutants), the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles may have never existed.  If NBC told Jerry Seinfeld that a show with no character development or "moral moments" wouldn't succeed, the hit sitcom Seinfeld may have never existed.

If Jim Henson had spent his life working with puppets and was never a commercial success, do you think he'd wish he had gotten the corporate job?  I don't know the answer for sure, but I have to ask myself this: Is it better to fail doing something you love or succeed doing something you hate?

I don't know if I'll ever be a "commercial" success.  But then again, I don't know that I need to be.  Of course, like most writers, I'd love to be able to pay my bills with my writing alone - and I'm going to continue to work toward that goal.  But writing is what makes me happy regardless of whether or not I'm the next J.K. Rowling.  It satisfies that endless need to create, that overflowing fountain of imagination that just cannot be contained within the confines of my own head.  I do this because I love it, because it's fulfilling, and because it's the unique thing that I have to contribute to the world.  My imagination, my emotions, my characters, my stories - they are what I have to give that no one else can.  And that mere fact provides a sense of completion and fulfillment that a corporate suit can never give me.

Maybe the business world works for some people.  If it does, that's great.  But not me.  I'll forever drift amongst the stars within my own imagination, and it's a place I never want to leave.  I may never be a J.K. Rowling or Robert Jordan, and I'm OK with that.  That's not to say that it wouldn't be cool to walk into Toys R' Us and see a section of Fourth Dimension action figures, but as long as I can continue to share my work with you and explore the distant corners of the galaxies in my head, I'll be happy.

After all, I'd rather fail doing something I love than succeed doing something I hate.

Tear down the walls.  Follow your dreams.

"Life's like a movie.  Write your own ending." - Kermit the Frog

God bless,
Kevin