~Lava~
Well-known member
Okay, I know that some of you have been following the progress that I have been making on my book. I am going to try to consolidate all of the different stories into one thread (thus only one link and a cleaner siggy for me).
This is a new one that I wrote. It is not part of the Bemanese story, but rather the story of how Bemanese stories ended up in the hands of an Earth author. It is the Prelude to my book right now. Called simply: "A Discovery"
One night, after being unable to sleep for a long time, I left my bed to walk along the shores of a lake that was not far from the place where I was staying. Not much was moving out on the lake and there was an unnatural stillness in the waves and wind. All of the surrounding area seemed to be held stagnant; I almost expected to see bats frozen in mid-air. The wildlife biologist in me was a little worried; it should not be this quiet by a water source in the dark. Not unless creatures are afraid to move about.
Slowly, I made my way down the lake’s shore, ever marveling at Nature’s lack of energy. I had at least expected to be relaxed by the breeze at the sound of water lashing the lake’s side. Rather than finding myself readier to fall asleep, I was becoming more awake by the shocking calmness. It was eerie and yet it enthralled my attention. I felt mixed emotions: part of me wanted to go back to the safety of my bed and be free from the insane quietness; the other part wanted to stay there and take it all in and if possible find its source. Perhaps I was stupid, but I listened to the part of my brain that urged me to stay.
Having seated myself on the sandy shore, I stared up at the stars. Orion could still be seen in the spring sky though the Pleiades had left to brighten other countries. At least the stars were doing what they ought. After sitting for a while, I noticed that my body, like nature, seemed to lose all ability to move. I was nearly in the throes of sleep.
Far from being upset by this turn of events, I strove only to make myself more comfortable. Why not? It was a clear night, this beach was not a common place for traffic (even in daylight), and I was well above the high water line. It seemed a nice prospect as opposed to the bed I had left which was not nearly as comfortable as the sand. I lay down and set about trying to doze off.
I cannot decide whether it was more fortunate or not that my brain decided it was not ready to sleep yet. Indeed, sleep was something that I desperately needed, but had I fully slept my night would have been far from being as interesting as it was. I would have slept through the coming and going of the little rough wooden dingy that ran aground on the shore near me only to be taken several hours later back out into the lake by the awakened tide.
I had been sitting in that half awake, half asleep state for nearly an hour before the wind picked up dramatically for an instant. It was only there long enough to waken my limbs and cause some waves. However, that was just long enough to bring the boat, empty, in to the shore and assure that I was awake enough to receive it. There was nothing but a few books, written in a foreign tongue, and a necklace in the boat. Nor was there evidence that former occupants of this little boat had met a bad end. It seemed that it had been set adrift for the sole purpose of people finding it. The items were carefully wrapped against the elements and placed in a beautiful wooden box (made out of the same wood as the boat only very smooth and sealed with some sort of finish). There was not an oar, a sail, or an engine to propel the craft. I removed the objects and further studied them and the dingy.
The closer inspection was nearly as shocking as the earlier stillness had been. The boat was handmade -- not with nails and not with any wood that I had ever encountered – in itself it was a work of art. Of the four books, only one looked like any I had ever seen before; it was a hardbound copy of a Webster’s Dictionary printed in 2003 however it looked as if it could have come from the medieval period due to its wear and yellowing, some of it was hardly readable. The other three were mainly in another language though one looked like it was an English/(other language that I did not understand) Dictionary probably used to make the Merriam-Webster readable. The necklace was a combination of stones and metals that I recognized and others that I did not. It was in the shape of a flying phoenix with its tail end bursting into flame; it was set with the chips of ten stones very prominently situated and other smaller ones all around them. Altogether, the things were of a foreign nature and most (except the Merriam-Webster which was no stranger to me) were very interesting.
I sat by the boat and tried to make sense of the language by moonlight while never noticing that nature had returned from its unnatural repose. My first reminder that I was outside was the fact that the boat near me suddenly moved and I got a wet rump as a large wave hit it. Sadly, the wave was unkind to me because it freed the boat from its plight on the beach and before I could stop it the boat was gone out into the lake again. Putting my remaining treasures back in their protective wraps, I headed back toward my long neglected room.
There, I placed my finds with my luggage and finally went to sleep. I was happy that I was on vacation and could further investigate them in the morning. In the further investigation, I found that the box had a false bottom and inside the false bottom there was a journal (well actually it was a Rite in the Rain ™ Field Notebook) written in a man’s hand. It was written in American English and had dates that ranged from late in 2004 to 2027 (which has yet to happen). It too looked ancient and well thumbed but fortunately he had used the pens that the company suggests so there was not much smudging.
It took me a while to learn the other language that the books were in. After that, though, I was able to read and translate them into English. The other two books seem to be two parts of one book filled with episodic stories about another civilization; some even seem to have been about people familiar with our world. The rest of this book consists of those stories which I liked the best. I know not how I was the person privileged enough to find them but I decided to share my findings with the rest of the world.
Also, I followed up on the journal and found an Elijah Goggers that lived in Miami. I brought the journal to him after I had everything copied and he received it gratefully. The Brian Goggers who wrote it can now rest assured that his father does know everything.
This is a new one that I wrote. It is not part of the Bemanese story, but rather the story of how Bemanese stories ended up in the hands of an Earth author. It is the Prelude to my book right now. Called simply: "A Discovery"
One night, after being unable to sleep for a long time, I left my bed to walk along the shores of a lake that was not far from the place where I was staying. Not much was moving out on the lake and there was an unnatural stillness in the waves and wind. All of the surrounding area seemed to be held stagnant; I almost expected to see bats frozen in mid-air. The wildlife biologist in me was a little worried; it should not be this quiet by a water source in the dark. Not unless creatures are afraid to move about.
Slowly, I made my way down the lake’s shore, ever marveling at Nature’s lack of energy. I had at least expected to be relaxed by the breeze at the sound of water lashing the lake’s side. Rather than finding myself readier to fall asleep, I was becoming more awake by the shocking calmness. It was eerie and yet it enthralled my attention. I felt mixed emotions: part of me wanted to go back to the safety of my bed and be free from the insane quietness; the other part wanted to stay there and take it all in and if possible find its source. Perhaps I was stupid, but I listened to the part of my brain that urged me to stay.
Having seated myself on the sandy shore, I stared up at the stars. Orion could still be seen in the spring sky though the Pleiades had left to brighten other countries. At least the stars were doing what they ought. After sitting for a while, I noticed that my body, like nature, seemed to lose all ability to move. I was nearly in the throes of sleep.
Far from being upset by this turn of events, I strove only to make myself more comfortable. Why not? It was a clear night, this beach was not a common place for traffic (even in daylight), and I was well above the high water line. It seemed a nice prospect as opposed to the bed I had left which was not nearly as comfortable as the sand. I lay down and set about trying to doze off.
I cannot decide whether it was more fortunate or not that my brain decided it was not ready to sleep yet. Indeed, sleep was something that I desperately needed, but had I fully slept my night would have been far from being as interesting as it was. I would have slept through the coming and going of the little rough wooden dingy that ran aground on the shore near me only to be taken several hours later back out into the lake by the awakened tide.
I had been sitting in that half awake, half asleep state for nearly an hour before the wind picked up dramatically for an instant. It was only there long enough to waken my limbs and cause some waves. However, that was just long enough to bring the boat, empty, in to the shore and assure that I was awake enough to receive it. There was nothing but a few books, written in a foreign tongue, and a necklace in the boat. Nor was there evidence that former occupants of this little boat had met a bad end. It seemed that it had been set adrift for the sole purpose of people finding it. The items were carefully wrapped against the elements and placed in a beautiful wooden box (made out of the same wood as the boat only very smooth and sealed with some sort of finish). There was not an oar, a sail, or an engine to propel the craft. I removed the objects and further studied them and the dingy.
The closer inspection was nearly as shocking as the earlier stillness had been. The boat was handmade -- not with nails and not with any wood that I had ever encountered – in itself it was a work of art. Of the four books, only one looked like any I had ever seen before; it was a hardbound copy of a Webster’s Dictionary printed in 2003 however it looked as if it could have come from the medieval period due to its wear and yellowing, some of it was hardly readable. The other three were mainly in another language though one looked like it was an English/(other language that I did not understand) Dictionary probably used to make the Merriam-Webster readable. The necklace was a combination of stones and metals that I recognized and others that I did not. It was in the shape of a flying phoenix with its tail end bursting into flame; it was set with the chips of ten stones very prominently situated and other smaller ones all around them. Altogether, the things were of a foreign nature and most (except the Merriam-Webster which was no stranger to me) were very interesting.
I sat by the boat and tried to make sense of the language by moonlight while never noticing that nature had returned from its unnatural repose. My first reminder that I was outside was the fact that the boat near me suddenly moved and I got a wet rump as a large wave hit it. Sadly, the wave was unkind to me because it freed the boat from its plight on the beach and before I could stop it the boat was gone out into the lake again. Putting my remaining treasures back in their protective wraps, I headed back toward my long neglected room.
There, I placed my finds with my luggage and finally went to sleep. I was happy that I was on vacation and could further investigate them in the morning. In the further investigation, I found that the box had a false bottom and inside the false bottom there was a journal (well actually it was a Rite in the Rain ™ Field Notebook) written in a man’s hand. It was written in American English and had dates that ranged from late in 2004 to 2027 (which has yet to happen). It too looked ancient and well thumbed but fortunately he had used the pens that the company suggests so there was not much smudging.
It took me a while to learn the other language that the books were in. After that, though, I was able to read and translate them into English. The other two books seem to be two parts of one book filled with episodic stories about another civilization; some even seem to have been about people familiar with our world. The rest of this book consists of those stories which I liked the best. I know not how I was the person privileged enough to find them but I decided to share my findings with the rest of the world.
Also, I followed up on the journal and found an Elijah Goggers that lived in Miami. I brought the journal to him after I had everything copied and he received it gratefully. The Brian Goggers who wrote it can now rest assured that his father does know everything.
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