I Can Fly, but Only at Night

when tomorrow is today

2011-09-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

everything good is one day away
"you'll feel better tomorrow"
is what someone said
but today...those words can't pull me out of bed
no more pain, no more tears
no more sorrow
i believe that with all my heart
mind and soul
so from the bottom this hole
i pray the prayer i always pray
that we all live to see
when tomorrow is today

my long lost friend

2011-09-14T20:39:00.000-07:00

I'm reaching out to you one last time. But, I think you're not answering me anymore. We're disconnected, removed, estranged. I'm sending this message out into the wide open cyber space, in the hopes that it finds you or that you find it and me, too. It's like putting a message in a bottle and tossing it out into the sea. What are the odds you'll read this and answer me? A million to one, 10 million, 100?

Wave after wave, shore upon shore, day and night, weeks, months, years. Nothing.

You must be dead. As horrible as the thought of that is, it's the only thing I can think of that would prevent you from answering me. It's been so long, too long now. I'm having trouble remembering what you look like, what your voice sounds like. And that terrifies me. How could I ever forget you? I wouldn't have believed that was even possible.

But, that's exactly what's happening to me, to us.

If you're not dead, then you're hiding. You're hiding someplace safe, free from harm. That's it, you're not dead, you're hiding. And you can't reach out to contact me because then...you wouldn't be safe. They'd know where you are and they'd get you.

So, now that I think of it: Don't contact me. DO NOT! This is the only way. You were right to go into hiding. You're so smart. They can't find you that way, like this I mean.

I'm trying to remember the last time we were together. You were so young, so innocent. That was before it happened, before it all started happening. I miss you so much.

I miss me when I was you. I'm sorry it has to be like this. But it's the only way. Stay safe and don't come out. Stay young, stay innocent. I'll be okay out here. But, you have to stay alive...for the both of us.

Stay deep down inside where no one can get you.

And I'll protect you from harm and from bad things happening. I couldn't do that when I was you. I was too little. But I can do it now. When it happens, it won't be happening to you. It will be happening to me, okay buddy?

Just remember that, keep saying it over and over: "This is not happening to me. It's happening to someone else. It can't be happening to me, because no one would do that to a child."

Now be very quiet. Don't make a sound and no one will ever know you're even there. Only I will know and I won't tell a single soul, no one.

And I promise I'll never forget you.

Tree of Life

2011-06-21T06:55:00.000-07:00

The epic film Tree of Life is currently in limited release. "Limited release" because it is an aqcuired taste. Audiences will either love it or hate it, or else be too confused to know or care how they feel. Some critics have said it isn't even a movie, but "a work of art using film as a medium."

My connection with the movie is that it is a cousin to "I Can Fly, but Only at Night."

My story is of a young child's life from birth through death. But, it expands as far back in the past as the child can imagine and goes into the future as far as they can see.

Only Tree of Life was made by someone who feels the act of creation was an accidental cosmic event. And the events in our lives are parts of a universal tapestry that we can never understand. And so the film leaves more questions than answers, distancing people further and further from each other and a loving Creator.

My humble, little story is just the opposite.

I'm in no way saying my book (that no one will read) is on par with a beautifully epic film. See the movie, read my book and you decide.

Thanks

PS: There's even a tree in my story, a magnolia tree named "Maggie." She's the forever tree.

Multiple Sclerosis Awareness

2011-02-08T06:15:00.000-08:00

Look for a personalized gift at Zazzle.

your pain in my heart

2010-07-07T09:22:00.000-07:00

My wife has Multiple Sclerosis. Although we're told it's not hereditary or genetic, it claimed both her mother and uncle. It has a "familial connection." MS has no cure. But unlike many other fatal diseases, it has a very long lifespan. So, living with this disease is it's worst symptom.

It kills you, but takes it's own sweet time.

I wrote a short story for my wife, trying desparately to imagine what it must be like to be her, living with a broken poison bottle leaking very slowly inside. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put myself in her shoes. So, I researched her disease, only to discover there is relatively very little known. It is a disease that is "symptomatic", meaning the effect it has on you IS the disease. It's not a cancer that can be cut out or treated with radiation or chemotherapy. You and the life you must now live are the disease.

The more I learned about the disease the less I understood how my wife must be feeling. So, I tried to imagine having the disease myself. But again, so little is known. I came to the conclusion that any and all devastating diseases while characteristically different, must have the same effect on the individual emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

My journey led me to an understanding, not of incurable diseases, but the effect it has on our loved ones. In a word, Empathy...her pain in my heart.

I wrote the story in the first person with the narrator having Parkinson's Disease. This ailment is just as mysterious, but at the time was more fully documented. The title of the short story is actually a partial list of PD symptoms: "desire, dementia and disturbingly vivid dreams."

The story was written for my wife. But I think anyone who suffers from an incurable disease or knows someone who is, can identify with it. It actually has three overlapping story lines.

1) The devastating effects of terminal illness.
2) A science fiction tale of time travel.
3) An eternal love story and just how far that love will go.

Please click on the link to find the story. Downloads are a dollar, because the publishing website changed its policy on free downloads. Any proceeds will go to my wife's treatment. Feel free to share the link with your family and friends.

"And so our hope for you is unwavering, knowing as we do that, just as you are sharers of the sufferings, in the same way you will also share the comfort."

(2 Corinthians 1:7)

To find the story, click on the picture of the camera viewfinder at right with the question, "lose someone you love?"

bread, wine, love and death

2010-03-18T17:13:00.000-07:00

The world is obsessed with super-heroes. We see it on TV, in the movies, and books. Each super-hero has their own unique alter-ego, costume and of course, super power.

But, for all their differences, they all have one major thing in common; they've all come to save the world. And now, it becomes very obvious why there is this obsession. Because the world very badly needs saving and everyone is waiting for someone to come and save it.

Someone did come long, long ago from very far away. He was born into a humble home in modest surroundings. He was an ordinary child who grew into an extraordinary man with superhuman powers; the power to heal the lame, cure the sick, and even raise the dead. He had power over the natural elements, and even over his arch enemy and his legions.

Yet despite these superpowers, he was a tender and compassionate person who had friends, was kind to women, and was loved by children. He was truly a super-man. He was known by many names: King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace, The Word, Son of Man, and Michael the Archangel, to name just a few.

He gave his life so that others might live. And so this year, after sundown on March 30, the calendar day that most closely corresponds to Nisan 14, his followers will commemorate his death.

You are invited to join them in honoring the Greatest Man that Ever Lived.

Haiti - Pray it Forward

2010-01-19T08:43:00.000-08:00

Hearts are breaking all throughout the household of faith, as reports continue to come from Haiti like hands reaching out to the air for help.

The reports are unbearable to watch. The only thing worse than watching the agonizing suffering is the feeling of helplessness it brings. When I could no longer go without hearing the latest update, I saw on television an emergency field hospital whose sole purpose was to amputate the crushed limbs of children. My broken heart and that of my family, like yours, broken even more.

We watch because we are one family, and so just as we share the sufferings, may we also share the comfort. (2 Corinthians 1:7)

The God of all comfort and Father of tender mercies hears the cries of his people. He collects their tears in a bottle. (Psalms 56:8). He is aware of the suffering of all people, because they are his children. Yes, our Heavenly Father has purchased the entire human family with the precious blood of his very own Son. And so like any parent, He feels pain in his heart, when his children feel pain.

At tragic times as these, many blame God. Some would say He is testing or even punishing mankind. "He does everything for a reason. It's part of his plan. We shouldn't question, it's a mystery, not meant to be understood." Or in the case of children who lose their lives: "God needed another little angel."

These are falsehoods not found in the Bible that actually blaspheme God, laying blame at his feet for death and suffering.

God cannot be tried with evil things. (James 1:13) He is not the cause of unforeseen occurrences that befall us all. (Ecclesiastes 9:11) Rather, He is the only source of comfort, relief, hope and salvation by means of His Kingdom ruled by his Son. He is the Life Giver, not a Life Taker.

So, we can pray to him as The Hearer of Prayer for those suffering in Haiti. (Psalm 65:2) Pray for the living to keep living, to endure, to cope, and to recover. Pray that with eyes of faith they can see and feel our hands reaching out for theirs.

The dead are safe and sound in God's memory. (John 5:28). That is a very safe place to be, until God willing, he reunites them with their families. Pray that He remembers them. Pray also for His name to be sanctified. The pain in our hearts is there because we are made in his image. Now, imagine on top of all the hurt, you are blamed for the tragedy as well. This is what our God is feeling right now.

Pray for his Kingdom to come and bring an end to all suffering. Yes friends, we are not hopeless, nor are we helpless during this tragedy. We can pray and do whatever charitable works are within our power to do.

And that is doing alot.

In faith, hope and love, I remain

"Tristan"

International Convention

2009-08-04T07:22:00.001-07:00

We were asked once by a modern day poet to imagine a world with no war, heaven, hell or even a religion. It is true that today some people's ideas of these concepts are destructive and divisive, not universally unifying. There are those who will fight and kill their brother who believes differently or lives under a different flag.

But there is an alternate reality, one that most don't recognize when they see it. So, I have no need to imagine the world most long for because I've seen it, touched it, walked among it's citizens. We've broken bread together, hugged, kissed and cried together.

It's real.

I have just returned from an International Convention in Berlin, Germany where close to 50,000 people of all races, colors, cultures and language groups met peacefully for 4 days. We sat and listened to the elevated way of living found in God's Word. This way of life transcends all national borders, ethnic differences and has no political agenda other than to support God's Kingdom and it's King, Jesus Christ.

We sang songs and shared meals with one another. In many cases, we didn't even speak the same native tongue, other than the "pure language" of truth the Bible speaks about. (Zephaniah 3:9)

As required by true religion, this "nation" must be obedient model citizens of the country or nation in which they live. However, in obedience to a higher authority, (Acts 5:29) they refuse to take up arms and add to the misery of war, killing their fellowman. This group pledges no allegiance to any government except for God's Kingdom and thus have widowed no women or orphaned any children in the name of war.

However, they are actively involved in making their communities better places to live by taking the life-saving and life-changing message of Jesus Christ to their neighbors. The fact that most they speak with are either too busy or not interested does not deter them because lives are at stake.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder in the Olympic Stadium among thousands of my brothers and sisters where a world leader also stood who vowed to "exterminate this brood" was a glimpse into a better world. You don't have to "imagine" as the song said, you can see the reality for yourself.

This spiritual paradise exists the world over, and you can be a part of it.

Try this: Put aside your notions of what religion has become: thinly veiled big businesses, recruiting stations for war, or political platforms. Think of the unadulterated, pure religion that Jesus left for his disciples to follow. Look for the sign he said would mark his true followers, (John 13:35), and decide for yourself. And when you find them, ask them a question that only a follower of the true religion could answer. It may be;

"Why do we all grow old and die?"

"Why is there so much suffering in the world?"

"If God loves us, why doesn't he do something?"

"Will I ever see my dead loved ones again?"

"What does my future hold?"

"Does God really care about me, can I get to know him?"

The answers to those questions isn't;

"It's all part of God's Plan."

"Our loved ones die because God's needs more angels."

"God does everything for a reason, you shouldn't question."

"Just have more faith..."

Search your heart, pray for help, research with an open mind, and you'll find that "he is not far off from each one of us." (Acts 17:27)

Your Brother,

Tristan

PS: The picture sums up the feeling that filled the entire stadium. A little boy from Germany and a little girl from Ghana (names withheld) played together during a break using nothing more than a stadium pole. Just as hatred, bigotry, and prejudice are taught and passed from one generation to another, so is the true religion, the pure language and genuine brotherly love. Referring to the meek, obedient, trusting nature of children, Jesus said, "the kingdom of the heavens belongs to such-like ones." (Matthew 19:14)

Someone You Love

2009-05-07T19:26:00.000-07:00

Living with someone you love who has a chronic terminal disease is very much like having the disease yourself...but not quite. Because they are the one who has the pain and the depression that goes with it, not you.

But, in some ways it can be just as difficult or worse for you. Because if there was any way you could take the pain upon yourself you would, but you can't. And so it hurts worse for the helplessness that multiplies it.

And so you watch your loved one, your husband, your wife, mother, father, son or daughter live in pain, dying a little each day. That can take a toll on you. This effect on you becomes a disease in itself, one with no name, no medicine and no cure.

In the end, there's only love. And until the day when no resident will say I am sick, love will have to be enough.

I wrote this story for everyone who's living with a sick loved one or has already lost someone they love to old age, sickness or disease. Click on the link below or the second picture to download the story. Any proceeds will go to care for my wife who has Multiple Sclerosis. The story itself deals with a disease with symptoms that could fit many to help make the story your own. It's a science-fiction-time-travel tale with the heart of a love story. I hope you enjoy it.

I pray you are able to cope with the illness of your loved one or endure until you may be with them again.

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/desire-dementia-and-disturbingly-vivid-dreams/2500550

In faith, hope and love, I remain

Tristan

Last Supper

2009-04-07T07:05:00.000-07:00

I’m going to have a steak this thick and a baked potato as big as your head. The steak will be perfect, a little charred and tangy on the outside, tender and juicy on the inside. The baked potato will have all the fixins', cheese, sour cream, chives, bacon bits, all the way. I’m gonna cut a nice big piece of steak, pick it up with my fork and bury it deep in the potato, pull it out and stick all of it right in my mouth...just like a shepherd’s pie.

It’s a dark day here on the Skull, death row. Even for Texas, three cashing in on the same day is alot. And yours truly goes first. All my life and this is what I’m finally first at.

“Hey, shut your trap over there! And don’t forget to order it just the way I said.”

Mr. Tough Guy is inmate #301466 two cells down. He goes today, too. He told me what to order for supper. I get whatever I want for my last meal. The rules around The Skull are the dead order a meal and give it to the men who are waiting for their turn.

There are three kinds of Dead here:

There are the “Dead” like me, him and the quiet one between us, men who are condemned to die and already have a date set.

The “Undead” are those on death row awaiting The Day, but keep appealing. They’re dead, but just won’t accept it.

The rest are lifers, long-timers, three-time losers. They’re the Living Dead, the worst.

Me? I’m already dead, signed, sealed and about to be delivered. I sealed my own fate the day I decided to become a thief, me and my partner over there, #301466. He had it all figured out, except the part where somebody got killed.

“Ain't that right, Mr. Perfect Plan?”

“Why don’t you ask your buddy next door, Mr. Friends in High Places?"

You’d never know it to look at him, but right now “my buddy next door” is a very dangerous man. And in here, he’s the most hated. It’s the quiet ones you always gotta watch. If only half the things they say about him are true, he’s not somebody you want to mess with. I know I wouldn’t. Right now, he’s America's most wanted, Public Enemy Number One, charged with treason, espionage, spying, fraud…even terrorism.

“Why don’t you lay off him? What did he ever do to you or to anybody for that matter? We deserve to be here. He’s innocent, and you know it!”

“Listen pal, everybody in here’s innocent. He’s just better at lying than me and you. But, he’s getting’ the needle just the same...”

“How can you say that? Aren’t you scared, even a little, I mean, to meet your Maker? What if…? Pssssst, hey Mister, I believe you’re who you say you are, you know, Him. I don’t believe what everybody says about you being a criminal. I know I don’t deserve to go to heaven because I’ve done bad things. But could you, maybe, save a place for me…somewhere...outside maybe? I just want to be there when you show everyone what's what. Then you can show me out the gates.”

“…the gates.”

Just then the bars of my cell opened and the entire place went dark. In walked Death itself with a plate of food and a change of clothes. I had forgotten about the food coming. I was so looking forward to that one bite, now it seems pointless. My last supper, and food is the farthest thing from my mind.

I removed all earthly goods from my body, my watch, my ring, my glasses. I changed clothes and carried the plate of food out of my cell. I kneeled and laid it on the floor just outside my silent neighbor’s cell.

“Here you go, I want you to have this. Promise me you won’t forget about me.”

As I stood to turn and walk away, a hand reached out of the darkness through the bars. He squeezed my hand, firm and sure, and said, “You will be with me in Paradise. I promise.”

To all of God's people around the world, have a wonderful Memorial celebration in honor of Jesus Christ and his heavenly Father.

The Only Real Hope for True Change

2009-01-19T08:37:00.000-08:00

He is a ruler who cannot be assassinated, succeeded, bribed, or overthrown. He does not favor one skin color over another, because he reads hearts, thoughts and intentions. He will not force anyone to accept his rulership, but extends a refreshing invitation to all.

He has a Health Care Plan superior to any other. He will forever restore youth, cure the sick, heal the lame, and restore sight to the blind, putting an end to medical bills, doctor bills, hospitals, and old age homes.

His Housing Initiative promises the end of homelessness with self-sustaining, energy-efficient homes for everyone. Abundant nutritious food will be available to all. His will truly be a "green" administration, because those ruining the earth will themselves be brought to ruin. The planet itself will be healed. Oceans, rivers and streams will be crystal clear, and so will the air.

No more war, murder, domestic violence or abuse of any kind will even be remembered. Guns, handcuffs, police sirens, prisons...all gone.

And animals! Every species of flying, crawling, running and swimming thing to delight and cause wonder will be there. All of them led by a little boy.

And, how could I forget? Our dead loved ones will be there, resurrected, reunited, restored.

This King of Kings has already taken office and is ruling. He is even now making preparations to bring about his campaign promises. Interested in learning more?

Like any real government, there are rules, laws, regulations. They are found in God's Word, the Holy Bible. This government also has real representatives and subjects who will be glad to help you. But, that is where the similarities to other governments end.

This Heavenly Government will rule over a truly united family, a worldwide brotherhood. All divisive boundaries, borders, and barriers will be done away with.

Now is the time to take a stand for this everlasting government, the only hope for mankind! Look for it's campaign workers canvassing your neighborhood announcing God's Messianic Kingdom. This is the only government worth celebrating.

Looking to man to fix mankind's problems through human government is like trying to paint a burning house. If you truly long for change, then you must change where you place your hope. Real change doesn't mean choosing one man over another. But, the change must be from man's way of doing things to God's way of doing of things.

Kingdom supporters on earth right now view all as their brother, and thus do not go to war to kill their fellowman. They exclusively support God's Kingdom, and so do not pledge allegiance to any man, country or flag. However, they do not rebel against the human government under which they live. But, by their model citizenship, they attract others to God's Kingdom. So, whose rulership will you loyally support, Man's or God's?

The choice is up to you.

food, clothing and shelter...

2008-10-23T05:55:00.000-07:00

that's what becomes important during a natural distaster. It is these basic necessities of life, otherwise taken for granted, that suddenly become prized commodities.

We will stand in line for something we threw away just a day before. We will pay double, even triple for what we previously had in surplus. Isn't the same true spiritually during a disaster, emergency, tragedy?

If everyday physical necessities are so vital in a crisis situation, imagine the importance of their spiritual counterparts. Yes, even more than physical sustenance and covering, we desparately need Spiritual Food, Clothing and Shelter.

Food
We need nourishing spiritual food untainted by toxic human philosophy, false religious poison, or unhealthy traditions. During a distaster, MRE's (meals ready to eat) are distributed door-to-door in affected areas. These meals may make the difference between life and death.

The same thing is being done right now spiritually in a worldwide door-to-door feeding program.

Clothing
Our garments are another thing we take for granted every day. During good times, they are merely fashion statements, separating the have and have nots. During a disaster, the lack thereof becomes life threatening. Imagine a heavy storm without a raincoat, a freezing night without a hat, scarf or gloves. Once again, the difference can be life or death.

The Bible offers the best wardobe, one that never goes out of style, and everyone can afford. It encourages us to "clothe ourselves with Love."

Shelter
We all need shelter. For many, it is common to search for suitable shelter every day. And who is not aware of the worldwide problem of homelessness? Even if we do have a home, we worry as it's value decreases and decreases.

Today, the true Christian congregation offers the best shelter available. It is a haven of peace and a secure place of spiritual protection.

Do you currently enjoy this kind of Food, Clothing and Shelter? We are surely living in critical times, and a relief effort is going on right now worldwide. Look for these spiritual relief workers with their bright yellow messages, like myriads of golden butterflies, as they go from door to door in a special campaign asking, ...

"Would You Like to Know the Truth?"

The Birds and the Bees

2008-10-09T17:07:00.000-07:00

Before I Can Fly, but Only at Night was published, I let a few close friends read it first. One of them said, "Oh, it's like The Secret Life of Bees."

I said, "It's like what?"

Since I had never read or even heard of the book before, my friend gave me a copy as a gift. I eagerly read it, but with one eye open, wincing as I turned each page. I was afraid the story that was so dear to me and took me years to write could be anything like something already published.

It wasn't. Whew! That was a close one. I told my friend who said, "I know, but it reminds me of your story. I meant it as a compliment."

Bees is a very good story. I could see it as a movie as I was reading the story. Now, it is a movie. The previews look true to the book. It has a very authentic, literary feel to it, like To Kill a Mockingbird. Which is odd, because another friend told me that's what my book reminded him of.

Now, I know he was just being kind. I love that book and the movie even more. Maybe I was unconsciously paying homage. Birds? Bees?

Click on the birdhouse and see what it reminds you of. I'd love to hear.

Tristan

Una Palabra

2008-09-25T22:31:00.000-07:00

I’ve got to get going. The world outside is waiting for me. I grab my jacket, my wallet and my watch, walk to the door, putting all three in their proper place about myself. The last thing I need are my keys. They’re by the door, in the bowl, on the table. I extend my hand, reaching toward them, as I stride for the door, eager to get outside and try out my word, The Word. What fantastic voyage will I embark upon? What kind of mischief will I get into? What sort of interesting characters will I encounter?

I throw a “Be back” over my shoulder to Hannah, who grabs me around the neck, kisses me on the cheek and says, “Have fun!”

One hand is in the bowl grabbing for the keys, the other is reaching for the doorknob...

Earlier this morning, Hannah and I played a strange sort of Russian Roulette. I was blindfolded and holding, not a gun, but my dictionary. I decided to say only one word, Una Palabra, all day long, to everyone I meet. The word would be randomly chosen. Hannah helped me, making sure I didn’t peek or cheat.

It’s not a police knock; bam, bam, bam!, but a friendly tap-tap-tap. Still, it startles me. How often is there a knock at the door, with your hand actually on the doorknob? I mean, a second later, they would have knocked on my forehead.

I shall dispense with this ill-timed, uninvited, albeit friendly visitor and get on with the unscripted drama that awaits me outside.

Who are they? What do they want? Why are they here? I’ll just have to open the door, and tell them to get lost. Then, I remember I can do nothing of the sort because of…

The Word. The word my finger landed on was "Yes."

“Jesse! Aren’t you going to answer the door?” Hannah sang out.

“Yes!” I yelled back, not realizing I have already started playing the game.

Great! Now I can’t hide, pretend I’m not at home and just wait for the uninvited guest to go away. They surely heard me shouting out to Hannah. But, I was proud of myself for using the word. This was going to be a great day. “Yes” is such a positive word. How could anything possibly go wrong?

The second knock would tell the tale. I swung open the door hoping to startle the visitor.

“Yes?” I said as a greeting and a question, both at the same time. As it came out of my mouth, I realized I could say it different ways. I could say “yes” as in “may I help you?”
Or I could say “YES?!” very curtly to say, “Yeah, whadya want? Get to the point.”

Just across my threshold, was a nicely dressed couple with warm, friendly faces who seemed to be in their late thirties or early forties. How did they even find us back here? The woman had a satchel of some sort, and the man had a briefcase, leather bag type thing. They looked heavy by the way they were carrying them. I would swear they smelled like coffee. But, I digress. I had to get going. I had things to do, places to go, people to meet. There was adventure to be had, fortunes to be made, and worlds to be conquered.

“We realize you weren’t expecting company, so we’ll be brief,” said the man.

“Yes!” I said sarcastically to both statements, while looking at the keys in my hand.

Yes, I was not expecting company. And, Yes, be brief!

I was getting pretty good at this, saying a lot with just one word. It just depended on how I said it. Facial expression, tone and inflection could convey a lot more than just the word by itself. I no longer viewed these people as a nuisance. I was glad they came. It gave me a chance to practice using the word before I hit the streets. I hadn’t even gotten out of the garage apartment and I was already using it.

“My name is Isaiah Smith and this is my wife Patsy. Are you Jesse?”

“Y-yes.” I said stunned.

“Well, Jesse, we’re talking to our neighbors as part of a voluntary education work being done around the world.”

“Yes?” is what I said on the outside. But, what I said on the inside was “How do you know my name?”

Then, Mr. Smith looked at his wife and smiled, cueing her to speak, which she did.

“Do you long to know why there’s so much suffering in the world?”

“Yes.” Everyone wonders that. Besides, what else could I say?

Isaiah said to call him Ike. “The answers to these questions can only be found in the Bible. We’re offering free home Bible studies. No matter what our background, race, education, or social status, we all wonder about the same things. “How did we get here? Why are we here? Where are we headed? Would you like to learn the answers to these questions from your very own Bible?”

“Yes!” I said, sincerely without hesitation.

I wasn't playing the game anymore, this was real. Besides, it was the only answer that fit, the only one that made sense. I was speaking from my heart now.

“Good.” said Patsy.

“Is this same time next week good for you?” Ike asked, looking at his watch.

“Y-yes….” I paused to look at my own watch, and at Hannah. She had worked her way behind the open door, smiling suspiciously.

“Good, we’ll see you next week at this same time.” Ike promised with a hand shake. Both smiled, turning to leave down the stairs.

“Yes.” I said, confirming the appointment. I nodded my head, smiling a polite, closed lip smile. I breathed a sigh, closed the door and leaned back against the door, sliding all the way to the floor. I was excited, and quite frankly, in shock. Hannah sat down right beside me. I never even made it out the door and my prayer was answered.

I looked over at Hannah, and smiled. I must admit it was a tearful smile, and I’m not really sure why. Hannah smiled her own tearful confession.

“I sort of asked them to come by. I’ve known them since...forever. I thought we could use a little help, you know, guidance, especially with little Alex on the way. Are you glad they came?”

“Yes.” I whispered, putting my hand on her stomach, on little Alex.

“Yes.”

That moment was one of complete contentment wrapped in a dream. I had found my childhood sweetheart, my one true love who still felt the same after all these years. We’re married and expecting our first child. The icing on this happy cake is now I honestly believe I'll get the answers I’ve been searching my whole life for.

I was searching for the truth, only to have it find me. And I had it all along in Pop's Bible.

"Jesse"
The Forever Gene

9:11

2008-08-15T19:29:00.000-07:00

I would lay for hours under the magnolia tree where as a kid I carved our initials, just staring into the beautiful blue nothingness, wondering if there was something else...Someone Else.

So, I knew as soon as I was old enough, I would set out to find the answer on my own.

It was the first week in September, the New Millenium was just beginning. Everything seemed new, fresh, full of promise. But, I had an aching hole in my soul and nothing I put there filled it, nothing. The hole just kept getting bigger and bigger.

I wasn't going to fill the hole or find the answer daydreaming under a tree in Texas. So, I set out to New York. Don't ask me why I chose New York, but I drove straight there, stopping only to sleep. Fall is different in New York than Texas, leaves change colors! Back home, it's still hot, leaves are still green, people are on the beach. Basically, it's still summer. Summers last forever in Texas, I guess that's why I left. I needed a change, to change...like a leaf.

That Monday, I rented a tiny apartment. I figured it was a nice enough base for me to nibble at the Big Apple and come back to slowly digest it. The next day, the eleventh, I woke up early and did something I had never done before; I prayed. It felt awkward, like introducing myself to a stranger, or asking a distant relative for money. I asked "God" for a sign, and set out to find my answers.

Then the world ended.

It sounded like an earthquake cracking open the sky. Panic, madness and confusion filled the air. My eyes were stinging and my throat was burning. I vomited out fear, only to have to swallow more, because that's all there was, everywhere, all around. Evil crawled through the city, like a crippled monster eating people alive one by one, only to spit them out as ashen zombies, walking corpses, bleeding from their eyes, ears and noses.

Apocalypse, Armageddon...Annihilation. White sheets of office paper floated down from the sky like dead confetti butterflies. What was happening? Was this real? I staggered through the streets, feeling blindly for buildings, benches, anything to guide me.

I don't know how long I walked, or even where I was going. Finally, when I realized it didn't matter anymore, I collapsed to my knees from sheer desparation...hopelessness.

So this was how it all would end. I prayed again to God, apologizing for putting him in the background. And now that I needed him, it was too late. Tears ran down the dirt and soot on my face. All I could do was wipe my eyes and look up, heavenward. My only thoughts were of her, where she might be, this moment, right now. What had happened to her, was she okay, even alive? Here in my final moments she was my only comfort.

I thought back to when we were kids, so in love. We made a pact at the tree, our witness tree, that if anything happened, we'd meet each other there. I waited for her there all day before I left. I fell asleep, staying under our tree all night. But she never showed up. I'll never see her again or know what happened to her.

Now, I felt God had abandoned me, too, before I had even gotten to know him, find him. I cried until my black tears ran clear, then until they ran out completely. When I could see a little more clearly, the thick gray sky parted just a crack. It was like a big hand lifted up just one venetian blind in a burned down house to let in radiant sunlight. It pierced the darkness like a sword, slicing open the smokey sky, from side to side.

I had been groping around in the darkness for so long, in my life and now on this Judgment Day, that the light blinded me. I wiped the sweat and ash from my stinging eyes until I could see in front of me what appeared to be letters...words, floating in the sky. It was my sign, The Sign.

Awash in brilliant beaming light, just floating in the air, were bold black and white letters that simply said:

Read God's Word, The Holy Bible, Daily

I rose to my feet, kissed my palms and raised my hands to the sky. God had answered my prayer.

I've read his Word every day since. My new prayer is for Him to send someone to help me know what the Bible really teaches, and that somehow, somewhere, some day....I find my Hannah.

"Jesse"
of The Paradise Trilogy: Faith, Hope and Love

Book One: Faith - The Witness Tree
Book Two: Hope - The Forever Gene
Book Three: Love - I Can Fly, but Only at Night

foreclosure

2008-06-25T07:37:00.000-07:00

Before we lost our home, things were going pretty good for us. I guess you could say we were in our own little paradise. I can still remember the day it happened...

"Hey Evie, I've got alot of work to do around here. Can you go pick us up something to eat? You know what to get. Just remember our diet..."

"Sure okay. I'm going to look around too, while I'm out, you know, feel my way around."

"Okay, but remember, don't talk to strangers."

"Yeah right, who am I going to talk to? Besides, I wasn't born yesterday."

"More like the day before, right?...And don't forget the food."

"I won't and I may surprise you. There's a new place just opened that I'm dying to try."

That was our dream home; great location, perfect climate, plenty of room, beautiful landscape and no neighbors to bother us. I came ahead of Evie to set things up, and she followed later. Too much later for me, I couldn't wait for her to get here. Even with everything I had to do, I was lonely.

Then when Evie came, we still had all the work to do, but we were together, so it was okay. It made for very busy days though. We were still settling in, plus we both had our own jobs. So, we decided to take one project at a time, little by little, until we got the whole place done. Actually, the owner had already put in everything we needed. We just wanted to make it our own. Oh, and we agreed on one thing: kids. We both wanted kids. I was so happy, and Evie was, too. At least, I thought she was.

Evie...

She's been gone a really long time. She should have been back by now. Oh, there she is!

"Hey, what took you so long? I'm starving!"

"I went to the new place I told you about right around the corner."

"Aw, come on, you know the places around here we can eat. Why take a chance? Remember what the doctor said. He said straying from our diet would be fatal. But, as long as we stuck closely to it, we'd be just fine. Don't you remember me telling you that?"

"Yes, but don't you ever get tired of eating the same old thing every day, day in and day out?"

"Uh...NO. Do you get tired of being alive every day, and not being sick from your allergies?"

"It's just that...."

"Just that what? Oh, and Evie, if this new place is just around the corner, why did it take you so long?"

"I was talking with the owner. He's a nice guy, and smart, too. He said the diet the doctor put us on isn't any good. He said it might even be bad for us. Maybe he's right. Plus, taste this, it's delicious."

"Evie, you...already...?"

"Here just try it."

"But..."

"If you love me, you'll try it. Here, just a taste, one bite..."

"Evie, you know you're the only woman in the whole world for me. Mmmm, you're right, it IS good. What's the name of this new restaurant?"

"It's called The Forbidden Fruit and it's to die for."

bread, wine, life, death and love

2008-06-18T09:37:00.000-07:00

The world is obsessed with super-heroes. We see it on TV, in the movies, and books. Each super-hero has their own unique alter-ego, costume and of course, super power.

But, for all their differences, they all have one major thing in common; they all have come to save the world. And now, it becomes very obvious why there is this obsession. Because the world very badly needs saving and everyone is waiting for someone to come and save it.

Someone did come long, long ago from very far away. He was born into a humble home in modest surroundings. He was an ordinary child who grew into an extraordinary man with superhuman powers; the power to heal the lame, cure the sick, and even raise the dead. He had power over the natural elements, and even over his arch enemy and his legions.

Yet despite these superpowers, he was a tender and compassionate person who had friends, was kind to women, and loved by children. He was truly a super-man. He was known by many names: King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace, The Word, Son of Man, and Michael the Archangel, to name just a few.

He gave his life so that others might live. And so this year, after sundown on March 30, the calender day that most closely corresponds to Nisan 14, his followers will commemorate his death.

You are invited to join them in honoring the Greatest Man that Ever Lived.

the world that never was

2008-06-18T03:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we think that Paradise on earth is "too good to be true." We think of it as the way it could have been, should have been...the world that never was. After all, it's hard to imagine a world without crime, hatred, war or injustice. This is the world we were born into and we grew up in. This is all we know.

We have come to view murder, rape, greed and corruption as "normal." But, it was never meant to be this way. And one day soon, it won't be. This horrible world of death, disease and destruction will be gone, even it's desire will pass away. The world we live in, this one, is the world that never was. We won't even remember it, all the pain and suffering won't even be called to mind. It will have passed away.

Can you imagine forgetting an entire world, like it was a bad dream? Take a look around you today. Look at the news about that abducted child, murdered man, abused elderly woman. Wars and reports of war, earthquakes, famine, and lawlessness are all signs that this world is about to become...the world that never was.

Hang in there, kids...."just a little while longer."
In faith, hope and love, Tristan

Sweet Nuthin'

2008-06-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

“Well, hello there, that sure is a big smile for such a little girl.”

“Oh, hi Mister.”

“Are you here all alone?”

“Yes, I mean No, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh, really, someone like who?”

“Someone special, you wouldn’t know them. Are you waiting for someone, too? I don’t remember seeing you around here before.”

“I guess you could say I’m new. May I sit here with you while you wait?”

“I don’t mind.”

“This is an odd place for a little girl to wait for someone, wouldn’t you say? Aren’t you scared in this lonely place all by yourself?”

“Boy, you really aren’t from around here. There’s no reason to be afraid anymore, here or anywhere. And besides, here is where I was told to wait. So, here I am.”

“…in a cemetery? Why would a little girl, how old are you, wait in a cemetery?”

“I’m 9, and I told you already, here is where I’m supposed to wait.”

“I’ve got to see this Special Someone for myself, what do they look like?”

“They’re a him, and I don’t know exactly what he looks like…not exactly.”

“So, how in the world are you going to recognize him when you see him?”

“Oh, I’ll know him, you can be sure of that, Mister…I’ll know him alright.”

“Yeah and how’s that?”

“The Special Someone is my daddy. He was killed in a car accident when I was only 4. But, I’ve seen plenty of old pictures and Mama told me aaaaall about him.”

“Well, why don’t you tell me and I’ll help you look.”

“Well, first, he’s tall like a tree, and strong, too. But, he’s not scary strong, he’s gentle strong. Aw, you wouldn’t understand.”

“No, no, no, I think I get it. He’s strong enough to pick you up over his head like this, and not hurt you. And you’re not afraid he’ll drop you or let anything happen to you. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes, just like that, Mister. You can put me down now.”

“What else? Tell me more.”

“Well, he’s very handsome. Mama said he was a real looker, a man’s man, whatever that means.”

“Oh, so he looked like me?”

“No way, you’re pretty like a lady. He had wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Mama said he had character.”

“Okay, so I don’t have character. Let’s say he doesn’t look the same as in the old pictures, would you still know him?”

“Of course, I would. Mama said he sang a song to me every night before I went to bed. I was very young, so after the accident Mama sang it to me, so I wouldn’t forget.”

“A song, huh? I know lots of songs, want to hear one? I can’t sing very well, but it’s a nice song.”

“Sure, Mister, I don’t mind. But, when my daddy comes, I have to go.”

“Okay, I’ll just sing part, here goes:

When eyes of blind ones see again,
and ears of deaf ones hear again,
When deserts blossom as the rose,
and from parched ground fresh water flows,
When songs of children fill the air,
When joy and peace are everywhere,
Then, too, you’ll see the dead arise
If you keep your eyes on the prize”

“That’s the song! Keep Your Eyes on the Prize! How do you know my daddy’s song?”

“That’s my favorite song. It a lot of people’s favorite. Are you sure you’re going to know your daddy?”

“Oh, yes! Just to make sure Mama gave me a secret password that only my daddy knows.”

“Oh yeah and what is that?”

“Yeah right Mister, you want me to give away the secret password, just like that? How old do you think I am, eight?”

“No, I wouldn’t dare ask you to tell me The Secret Password. I just meant what is it, the name of your puppy dog or something?”

“No, it’s my nickname, I mean, you know, his nickname for me.”

“Ah yes, a funny little name only your daddy called you, right?”

“Would you like to know what it is? You would never guess in a thousand years.”

“You mean you would actually tell me?”

“It can’t hurt now. Besides it’s the only thing about Daddy I remember.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“He called me Sweet Nothing, and you’ll never guess why.”

“…because you always had a smile on your face for no reason. You always had a great big smile for such a little girl. You were always happy, all the time. You didn’t even need a reason.”

“Daddy!”

“Sweet Nuthin’!”

ever been beside yourself?

2008-06-11T12:04:00.000-07:00

Of course, the end of the story above is actually just the beginning.

It is the result of a resurrection question posed by someone who tragically lost their father, as to how she would recognize him if he wouldn’t look the same. I mentioned that it is the personality traits that will make our loved ones recognizable, the “person” they are. So, while their body may likely be similar, it also may not. That proved to be little comfort to her because she lost her father while still very young. She never got to know his personality, his likes, dislikes, talents, or sense of humor, etc. She only knows him from photos, his physical appearance, what he looks like. It got me to thinking; won’t it be wonderful to “meet” our loved ones and get to know them all over again, or for the first time.

If our last memories of our loved ones is in a hospital bed, a rest home, at the scene of a car accident, the victim of a crime, or at their funeral, we are in for quite a nice surprise. They won’t be coming back like that, the way we remember. We will have to change the way we remember them, re-think everything. We have to not so much re-member them, as…re-imagine them. Our parents or grandparents won’t be old, crippled, wearing glasses or carrying a cane. Those we said goodbye to in hospitals or rest homes will return young, vibrant, handsome and beautiful. Those we lost in accidents will be fully sound of limb and full of life.

Those who survive alive will have to grow to perfection. But, from what we know, those who die and are resurrected will have a little head start, at least physically, if they died old, infirm, disable or somehow otherwise “not whole.”

We cannot even imagine the joy the resurrection of our loved ones will bring. Is it any wonder the Bible says of parents who received their deceased daughter being “besides themselves with ecstasy”? (Mark 5:42) When was the last time you experienced that kind of joy? Me, neither.

Who do YOU want to meet…again for the first time?

The Last Starbucks (a.lott to think about)

2008-06-01T07:09:00.000-07:00

I know there’s nothing the friends enjoy more than taking a break at Starbuck’s. Me too, but, we’ve got to get going, we’re already late as it is.

“You better go inside and get your mother…”

I’m Brother Atticus Lott from the Space City Congregation. We’re headed out just like you and the rest. And we’re running a little late. We were given very clear instructions: At sundown One October, get your family in your escape pod, set the coordinates, take off, don’t stop, and don’t look back. That was it. Don’t pack, just leave, get out.

“Didn’t I tell you to go inside and get your mother?!”

“Yeah, but I thought you were joking…”

“Joking? Do I look like I’m joking?! We have to go…NOW!”

I’m sorry, where was I? Oh okay, so we’re all leaving and meeting there. This whole place is going up in flames, fire and sulphur. We’ve got just enough time to get out of blast range. Where we’re going is very far away, a thousand light years.

“Dad, she won’t come.”

“What?!!...won’t come? What do you mean she won’t come?”

“I got everyone else in the ship; me, John, and the girls. But Mom says this place reminds her of everything we're leaving behind, so she wants to sit just a minute.”

“Click on the voice-com, and the view-screen, too.”

“Abby! I know you can hear me. We have to go, you have to get in the ship, NOW!”

“Dad, she’s saying something. Turn off the hydros so we can hear her.”

“You know I can’t do that. We don’t have time to power back up, and the launch window is closing. We have to leave at the exact time, no sooner, no later, “just so”, remember? Why doesn’t she come? What is she doing?”

“Abby, we have to close the hatch. You have to get in! Hurry!”

“Dad, look! There’s two enemy ships headed straight for us. We waited too long.”

“I show no ships of any kind in the sector except escape pods like ours, those aren’t ships…they’re…”

“They’re what, Dad?”

“I’m reading pure…sulphur…. Son, your nose…it’s bleeding. They’re destroyer angels headed for the city, our city….our home. Remember family, don’t look back for any reason.”

“But what about Mom? She’s…she’ll….”

“I’ll worry about your mom, you just keep that co-pilot's chair warm. I’m going to create an anti-gravity vacuum around the hatch, swing down and pick her up.”

“Dad, it’s too late…here come two more destroyers.”

“No, they’re not destroyers and they’re not headed for the city. They’re…gold, electric-gold...electrum. And they’re headed for your mother.”

They swooped down at an incredible speed, put her inside the pod with us, and literally pulled the ship out of harm’s way. Then just as quickly, they were gone, vanished.

We made it. Next stop: Paradise Planet! Me, my sons, their wives and….my….

Just then, I turned to see my dear wife, crystalized, her face to the window...looking back.

the message

2008-05-30T05:24:00.000-07:00

I remember back when we were both young. I think even way back then I knew I would spend the rest of my life with you.

Now...we barely even talk. Well, I talk, you just don't listen to me. We used to be so close, doing everything together, talking things over. Now, you just do what you want and leave me at home.

I ask what you're reading, you say it's none of my business. I ask what movie you're going to see and if I can come along. You say I wouldn't like it. So, I just don't ask anymore. If you don't want me around, there's really not much I can do about it.

I even make up all kinds of excuses for you, for us. But you know I won't lie to you. I can't.

I just worry. I can't help it, that's just who I am, I guess. I keep calling you, but you don't pick up. I know you have me on ignore, call-block. You say I'm "bothering you."

So, I'm leaving you this message to let you know how I feel. I can handle being ignored, but you really hurt me, scarred me for life. I can't even feel anything anymore. So, if you ever want to get back together with me, you're going to have to be the one who calls me. Because I give up. I guess that's what you really wanted; me out of your life.

I hope you wake up one day and realize how much you miss me, needed me. I just hope it's not too late, that we've grown too far apart. But, I'll be here waiting for you because I still love you.

Let me hear from you, love,
Your Conscience

the clock with no hands and two faces

2008-05-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

when was the last time you read a science-fiction-time-travel-love-story told in real time purposely hidden on the internet that begins the second you download it with an ending you absolutely will not believe even as it's happening?
www.lulu.com/content/2500550

the day that will last forever

2008-05-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

We read promises and prophecies about Paradise...the New World. We tell others about it; our neighbors, our children, even strangers.

But when was the last time you actually imagined yourself there? "Imagine" is not even the right word. When was the last time you "planned" on being there, what you would do, who you would meet? Can you see yourself there, doing what you love, with the people you love?

It's been said that we don't do this enough. As a result, some trade that incredible everlasting future for a few fleeting moments in this present world.

I Can Fly, but Only at Night is all about seeing ourselves in the New World. "Faith is the assured expectation of things hoped for, the evident demonstration of realities, though not yet beheld."

I'd love to hear your story of you being there. Write it down, email me, and I'll post it. Keep it short, and don't worry, if it comes from your heart, it'll be good. Let's all see ourselves already there, and one day we will be.

In faith, hope and love, I remain, Tristan
email stories to tristanmoorhen@mail.com

faith, hope and love

2008-05-16T09:12:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated by time travel. One of the first books I ever read was The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. It is a fascinating story too easily dismissed as science fiction, when it is more of a commentary on the human condition, that was,...well, ahead of it's time. (1895).

Another book that allows you to travel through time is the Bible, taking you far into the past and far into the future.

I tried to incorporate some of those inspirations into my novel I Can Fly, but Only at Night. "Alex" uses selected scriptures and various verses to travel into the past and the future to escape the present. The success of the story depends solely upon the reader's eyes of faith, how clear their focus, how far their vision, and how unlimited their scope.

I always sign off by wishing my readers "faith, hope and love" taken from Paul's words at 1 Corinthians 13:13. Faith is seeing the unseen. Hope is why we see it. When our faith is rewarded, and our hope is realized, love is what will remain.

That's why "the greatest these is love."

So, in faith, hope and love, I remain, Tristan
www.lulu.com/content/1325773

once written...

2008-05-09T14:18:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

This is a nice site that helps out new writers, or wannabe writers...

In faith, hope and love, Tristan
http://www.oncewritten.com/

Rain Man

2008-05-08T06:37:00.000-07:00

At first, the sound of it was so soothing and peaceful, like leaves rustling in the wind. Then it became stronger like ten thousand raven wings fluttering all at once.

It’s been a little more than a month since he last came by, but before that he used to come by all the time. We used to call him Rain Man because he was always talking nonsense. He was a good man though, a family man, a hard worker. His sons were grown and married, but they still did everything together, as a family.

That was about four or five weeks ago, I think, since we last talked.

I put all the animals in the barn, where I thought they’d stay dry. And I’ve moved everything up to the second floor. Actually before all this happened, I was doing pretty well for myself. My business was booming and life was good. A lot of good that does me now.

He kept trying to get me to join him in his hair-brained project and crazy ideas.

“Just come with me,” he would say, “you and your family. You’ve got to listen to me.”

My family…we stayed together as long as we could, but it was no use. My wife and I would take turns holding the baby while the other slept, but then we both fell asleep. I awoke to see them floating off like driftwood, deadwood. I would have buried them if I could have, but there was no way.

Without them here with me, there doesn’t seem much point in holding on. I miss them so much, my heart aches and it hurts to breathe. I’m cold, drifting in and out of consciousness. From here on the rooftop I can see all my neighbors’ homes. It’s funny, but I never cared much for them before, but now I miss them.

They were a pretty bad bunch, drunkards, liars, cheaters and thieves. So, I guess they had it coming. I guess I’ve got it coming now, too. He begged me to come with him. But I wouldn’t listen.

At first, I didn’t even know what it was, none of us did. It just fell from the sky, like millions of tears. When it didn’t stop though, we knew. It was just like he said.

I did go down there though, you know, to where he said. A lot of us did. But, I must admit it was only to see how crazy he was and to have a laugh at his expense. Can you imagine the humiliation, doing something like that in public, and with your family right there with you? The lucky ones drowned. I could float up here forever, but there’s nothing to eat, not anywhere.

I’ve had plenty of time to think since then, sitting here on my roof, in the pouring rain. I guess somebody could say I didn’t have enough sense to come in from the rain. And they would be right. I didn’t and now it’s too late. Now, I’m the Rain Man.

I should have listened.

I wrote this other day when it rained all day, and seemed it wouldn't stop.

www.lulu.com/content/1325773

Good Ol' Joe

2008-05-06T09:42:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a neighborhood called Cottage Grove in what was then the lower West End of Houston, Texas.

My mother always talked about a man called Joe D. Goodbook. He was sort of a down-on-his-luck, honest, hard-working man who hauled trash around the neighborhood for a living. He would do other things, too; yard work, handy man stuff, etc.

But, I always wondered about his name: Joe D. Goodbook. What kind of name is that? Although, I never questioned it. We had a Goode family in the neighborhood, and there were the Chappels. So, I never really thought it was odd until I got older.

Guess what? His name wasn't Joe D. Goodbook. My mom was calling him "Joe the Good Book," because he was always quoting the Bible, (or so he thought. I think he drank alot.) He would always say, "Well, it's just like the Good Book says..."

He said that so much, my mom called him "Joe the Good Book." I thought that was his real name. I remember talking about him with someone and they didn't know who I was talking about. They said, "You mean Junk Man Joe?"

As far as anybody knew, his wife had been dead for years, he raised his kids alone, he was always working and so was always dirty, and usually smelled of garbage and liquor. But, none of those things defined him more than the fact that he was always quoting the Bible.

Everybody in our neighborhood had a nickname. Let's see there was Bullfrog, Termite, Little Victor, Big Victor, Frankenberry and Chorizo. (you can't make this stuff up)

All things considered, there are alot worse things than being called Joe the Good Book.

So, it was a natural for little "Alex" the main character in I Can Fly, but Only at Night to relate everything to a scripture in the Bible.

In faith, hope and love, I remain, Tristan
www.lulu.com/content/1325773
www.stationhill.com

the business of books

2008-05-03T17:06:00.000-07:00

Remember the Twilight Zone episode Time Enough at Last? For you youngsters, here's the plot: A bank teller (Burgess Meredith) loves reading books, so he hides in the vault and reads during his lunch break.

Then bam! World War Three happens and everything is gone, except him. He's devastated, lost and alone stumbling around in the rubble the world has become. He wanders alone wretched and pitiable. He's about to do away with himself, when he sees an oasis of hope, the whole public library all to himself. He has all the time in the world now to read.

"all the time I want, and all the time I need." he says, time to read for the sheer joy of reading.

A wise man once said, "To the making of many books there is no end, and much devotion to them is wearisome to the flesh."

And, of course, that statement was recorded in a book, the Greatest Book of them all. So, we know it wasn't written to discourage reading, but to encourage reading only good books. But, instead of being the last person on earth with all the time in the world to read all the books ever written, we find ourselves surrounded by billions of others with no time to read anything at all.

The key is balance, selectivity and discretion in what we read.

One fine day, there will be Time Enough at Last, all the time you want and all the time you need...not to just read for the sheer joy of reading, but to live a life worth living.

But until then, in this world full of computers, hand-held devices and television, we still have books. And there is every indication, books will be here for a very, very long time. The other gadgets are being replaced as I write these words and becoming obsolete as you read them.

So, read a good book today. Travel to exciting places, meet interesting people, expand your mind, your horizons, your expectations...expand yourself.

In faith, hope and love, I remain, Tristan

I Can Fly, but Only at Night is now available on www.Amazon.com (search by title). This means less of a profit for the author, but may make it easier for some to afford the book, since Amazon has free shipping and discounts for members. Plus they have music, movies, gifts, etc.

It is the desire of this author to make as much of his book available for free as possible. Currently, free previews are posted at http://www.lulu.com.content.1325773/ and http://www.stationhill.com/

Watch this blog for free chapter excerpts, and other short stories, and poems.

eyes on the prize...

2008-03-25T13:25:00.000-07:00

Welcome Friends,

I've invited a select few of you that I've either known for a very long time, or I've grown to trust as if I had. What I'm sharing with you today is a little book that I've just recently finished, and one I hope will be encouraging, enlightening and entertaining.

It's time we had a book of our own and I Can Fly, but Only at Night is finally that book, written by one of Us for all of Us.

It's full of clues and references that you'll find familiar and hopefully enjoy, but nothing to stumble or offend. Using a pen name gave me the freedom to be honest, open and sincere drawing attention to the subject matter and not myself.

The story deals with very grown up issues seen through the eyes of a not very grown up child. It's an inspiring tale that will touch anyone who's felt the loss of a loved one. It reaches out to any who've suffered abuse, whether mental, physical or emotional, but will also connect with any and all lover's of truth. It is my hope even those who've fallen away may be helped to get back on the narrow path.

Through it's brief pages, older ones will fondly remember the good old days of yesteryear, and younger ones will be helped to imagine the incredible new days in the forevertime ahead of us.

So, when you're all caught up with your more important reading, click on the link below for a free preview. Then, order a copy if you like. After reading it, I think you'll see why you'll just have to tell a friend about I Can Fly, but Only at Night. Until we're all in that wonderful new world together, here's to wishing it were already here.

In faith, hope and love, I remain
Tristan
www.lulu.com/content/1325773

the first time

2008-02-24T18:37:00.000-08:00

Do you remember the first book you ever read?

Remember how you felt when you read the last page, breathed a sigh and held it to your chest?

That was a turning point in your life, because it was the first time you became a character, lived their life, felt their pain, and shared their triumphs. You talked about it with your friends, and thought about it in bed at night.

That's the feeling I was trying to recapture when writing my first book. And hopefully you'll get the same feeling when reading it, just like it was the first time all over again.

Please enjoy "I Can Fly, but Only at Night"
the first novel written especially for "us."
www.lulu.com/content/1325773

Flight Club

2008-01-18T08:25:00.000-08:00

Greetings Dear Friends,

Word is slowly starting to get out about this little book. It's not the kind of book that will catch on like wildfire. But, my hopes are that it will warm one heart at a time and that those warm embers will kindle a long-lasting fire that will burn deeply in all of us for a very long time.

My best to all who have flown, are flying or may yet grow wings.

In Love, Faith and Hope, I remain
Tristan

www.lulu.com/content/1325773

Unique Gift

2007-12-10T05:39:00.000-08:00

Give the gift that keeps on giving. This book follows the life experiences of your favorite reader as a storyline and lets them decide how it ends.

This gift will certainly stand out from the rest as special, thoughtful and one of a kind.

Tristan

www.lulu.com./content/1325773

books...

2007-12-07T21:44:00.000-08:00

are without debate the greatest invention of man. Johannes Gutenberg, the inventor of movable type press, was named Man of the Millenium. Books fueled the Renaissance, facilitating a major catalyst for science, medicine, commerce, travel and religion, not to mention Oprah's book club.

Books as we know them have existed since around the second century BC in China, and the first century BC in Rome. Pages were made of bone, shell, wood, even silk before papyrus became paper as we know it today.

Even though books have remained essentially unchanged for centuries, they are still superior in many ways to today's modern "hand-held" devices. Compare a book to a notebook computer. It's light and portable, requiring no batteries. It's dual screens are always on, and can be read in direct sunlight. Pages do not have to load, and can be bookmarked to enjoy later.

You can drop a book and you don't have to buy another one.

But, none of these qualities are what make books such treasures. It is what they contain that informs, inspires, infuriates and intoxicates us.

Read from a book today, not from a screen like this, but from a real book you hold in your hands.

www.lulu.com/content/1325773

the "unstory"

2007-12-02T09:20:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,

All of us are influenced by what we read. But, in some very rare instances, it's the other way around; we are able to influence what we read. How is this possible?

Let me see if I can explain. I will never be a Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemmingway or a John Steinbeck. So, when writing my current novel, I went in completely the opposite direction.

I chose a very difficult subject matter and tried to tell the story using only the experience, wisdom, and vocabulary of a young child. I rewrote it fives times, each time making it more and more simple.

The result is a novella so bare and stark that it is a mere skeleton of a story. It could easily be dismissed as the immature work of an unaccomplished writer. (Well, that part is true.)

But, what I didn't realize until I heard from the first readers is that the story is so sparingly written that they, out of sheer necessity, had to supply the plot details. Thus, the story is shaped by the reader's own true experiences and ends at the conclusion that he or she draws.

I was discussing with a reader a particularly moving portion of the book, when they went on to share a scene I didn't remember being in the book. The reader said they would check the chapter and page and get back with me. To their disbelief, it simply wasn't there. They must have "written" it into the story as they read along.

Comments from various readers sound like they each read a different book. I can't say much more without spoiling it, but there are some surprises planted along the way. Please see what the story becomes for you and where it ends up.

Thanks, Tristan

www.lulu.com/content/1325773

who is "Alex"?

2007-11-22T08:47:00.000-08:00

That seems to be the question. Who is Alex and thus who is the story about? Alex is a character compiled of many people. But, I want you to see yourself in Alex. As you read the story, you'll notice that nowhere are you told if Alex is a boy or a girl. My wish is you to imagine yourself as Alex. For some it seems, that's not so difficult.

It was almost impossible to write this book without using words like "he, she, his, hers", etc, especially if I wanted it to be a personal story. But, I came up with a unique device to pull it off. I also tried to transcend race, nationality and language. Alex is exposed to different cultures in the story, and so takes on a little of each. There again, you bring your own perspective to the story.

I particularly enjoyed writing the ending, because I didn't know myself where the story would lead to or end up. So, when it all came together, I was pleasantly surprised, and hope you will be, too.

Enjoy and remember to "tell a friend."
www.lulu.com/content/1325773

lost and found

2007-11-20T04:15:00.000-08:00

The story I've written is about just that: lost and found. I purposely tried to make the storyline personal enough to hold your interest, but with lots of room for your individual experiences. Because your point of view, imagination and feelings are unique, you're actually writing your own story and reading it at the same time.

All of us have suffered loss. Sometimes it's when someone you love dies. Other times it's something we had and can seemingly never regain, like our health, dignity, self-respect or childhood innocence.

This story focuses not so much on the loss, in fact the reader is never really told what happens to little Alex. That's for you to decide. It focuses more on what is found. That too will be different from one reader to the next.

What have you lost? See what you find. www.lulu.com/content/1325773