The Strandline Book Shelf

Book I of the Strandline Series, Beyond the Strandline and two prequel short stories in the Strandline Series.  amazon.com/author/lindazern 

FICTION: A Dry Run For Life!!

My youngest son, Adam, just turned thirty-three; so doing the math, that makes me seventy times seventy. Or is that how many times he has to forgive me? Well, whatever.

Adam is my philosopher king. He’s the kid who is happy to give me less than five stars on my various full-length novels. The Amazon.com gods worry that our children or family will be overly positive when it comes to leaving reviews on their website, so they forbid such. I never have to worry about that.

He’s also the child that likes to engage me in a plethora of idea related debates. Then he films our discussions. And then he posts these interactions on line. 

I’m not sure how I feel about this.

He never lets me put on makeup or change my shirt, and I’ve usually just finished cooking Sunday dinner for a mob of beggars so there may or may not be gravy stains on my clothing. The only light he provides is an electric GE camping lantern, if he can find it. So, half the time I look like I’ve smeared gravy in the bags under my eyes. And there’s never any rehearsal. It’s just shoot from my gravy stained hip. That I’m okay with.

The next debate he’s scheduled is titled, The Value of Reading Fiction, and on this topic, we’re probably going to be in sync. Fiction makes everything clearer. 

For example: Thomas Tryon, a horror writer in the 1970’s wrote a truly cautionary tale called Harvest Home. In it, he detailed a remote northern town whose corn cult required human sacrifice and a fertility ceremony. I read it and made notes: never move north, never become a corn farmer, and never, ever peak at the secret “corn making” ceremony if you want to keep your tongue and your eyes. Sure, it’s fiction, but you never can tell.

Stephen King wrote a book about vampires before the vampires got sexy. My husband worked nights at the time, slept days, and I never saw him conscious when the sun was out. Never. I read Salem’s Lot and learned how to recognize a vampire when I saw one. It’s not a coincidence that the town where vampires were crawling all over the town dump was somewhere up north, probably next to the corn cult creeps. 

And who, after reading Pat Frank’s Alas Babylon, doesn’t understand the importance of storing up salt against a nuclear attack from Russia. I’m ready.

Every work of fiction provides dry runs for life. What would you do if? What would you think when? How would you cope after? Where do you go during?

When we read books, we walk into worlds that don’t exist and face monsters that can’t be true, but at the end of every imaginary journey is the possibility that we will discover some small gem of truth that will aid us on our way in the real world above the fiction.

Linda (Ready For My Close Up) Zern 

Goats and the Truth About Opinions

If I say, “I love goats. Goats be fun,” are these statements opinions or facts? Or are these statements a combination of both opinion and fact? Or are these declarations the ravings of the madwoman of Kissimmee Park Road?

First, for our discussion, let’s examine the difference between opinion and fact. An opinion is a belief or judgment that is NOT based on measurable evidence, and a fact is provable on a color-coded graph.

Can it be proved that I, in fact, do love goats?

I own goats. I take care of goats. I talk of goats. I talk to goats. I preach of goats, and I post pictures of goats in public places, next to thousands of kitten and puppy pictures
.
It is arguable that I do love goats by a measurable rubric.

Now, let's examine the statement, “Goats be fun.” This can be refuted and often is by my son-in-law. He finds farm animals a curiosity, at best, and, at worst, an abomination. Of course, he was born in Bountiful, Utah where all the children and goats are above average.

The statement “Goats be fun,” is an opinion. Many people find farm animals a smelly bother or a confusing chore or a strain on the delicate balance of an entire planet.

Farm animals poop and fart. This is a measurable fact.

My Muslim neighbor finds goats tasty, and I can prove it.

Buck goats smell rank when they’re in “love.” (If you need proof, come on over sometime during the mating season.) Girl goats find boy goat stink irresistible. Truth. An invitation. Also True.

Boy goats pee on their own faces. True.

It’s horrifying when boy goats drink their own pee. Opinion.

Goats have the cutest babies on earth. Opinion. If someone else refutes the ‘cutest baby goat claim’ by saying, “Hedgehogs have the cutest babies ever, and you’re a disgusting, offensive idiot for claiming otherwise,” then you’ve got yourself a debate. Opinions, which are not facts but feelings about facts, lend to debate. Debates are the mother’s milk of free speech and protected by law in our country.

When someone accuses you of being a disgusting, offensive idiot, then it’s opinion. It’s very difficult to demonstrate a level of idiocy on a flip chart. Or is it? Let me think about that.

Summation: Freedom is hard. Free speech is challenging. Feelings are not facts. Statistics can make fact-finding tricky because of the innate biases and prejudices of the fact-finding team coloring those pie pieces on those charts.

I love debate. Fact. And I can show you on a bar chart demonstrating why that’s absolutely true.

Linda (Hold Your Horses) Zern