Notebook Souvenirs

 

 

As the chances of taking a trip this year as planned dwindles daily and, at the same time, I've fallen into a nostalgia-hole thanks to this year's reading list and thinking of better days past, I decided to re-live some past vacations with a particular set of souvenirs. Plus, I'm sure I talked about eventually doing this post while writing my "Grand Adventure" stories. And what kind of souvenirs have I been staring at longingly? you're not asking. In fact, you're probably thinking, "Dammit, everyone knows you're making all this up as an excuse to show off your notebook collection!"

Study Abroad Japan 2009

 

These are the notebooks I brought back from studying abroad in Japan back in 2009. I know what you're thinking. "You bought 4 notebooks in 4 months!" I know, right, I'm surprised I didn't buy so many more, too. The first two on the left I happened upon while wandering the aisles of Don Quijote looking for actual survival-related items. The worst part is that I still do that: walk around stores and if I've got a bunch of purchases, maybe I'll just buy a new notebook too while I'm here. Unlike my other souvenirs, I wrote in them while I was over there and when I came back, though neither are full (not sure why I stopped).

 

This one I got at a Naruto anniversary exhibit ... I forgot exactly where. I know we saw the giant Gundam in Odaiba earlier that day so I think it was close by. In Naruto, there's a character called Sai that carries a notebook telling the story of two warriors fighting foes, their stories starting at opposite covers of the book until they inevitably meet in the middle. And that's why I loved this notebook once I saw it, because it sort-of replicates that from the manga.

The Gundam notebook I picked up when I went to see the giant Gundam in Odaiba. There's nothing uniquely special about the notebook itself. What does make it special is the story associated with it. I got the notebook on my third visit, the same trip that I finally managed to get my hands on a souvenir Gundam model. Several of us wanted kits but they sold out every previous time we went. On my third trip no one else could go, so off I went alone with the goal of grabbing as many kits as I could. The issue though was the "one per customer" limit. Once I got to the site, I immediately grabbed a model. I walked around for an hour, and then came back to the souvenir tent with the model shoved in my backpack. Knowing that I look like tourist, and in case someone recognized me, I bought not only another model but the notebook, a poster, and probably some other things that I've lost by now in the hopes that the extra purchases might throw off their suspicions. "No, he couldn't be the same guy that was here earlier just trying to get a second model, or why would he be buying all those extra things, too," they'll think to themselves. With the two models, I now needed a plan to get a third. Hiding two in my backpack wasn't going to work. I attempted to ask a guy with two small kids if he could buy me a kit since he was only buying one but I couldn't figure out the words fast enough. I did try to explain/lie to one of the workers that my friend loves Gundam but is sick so can I buy two but he wasn't buying my bullshit. I think eventually I got a call from someone at the dorm that we were doing something/drinking that night, so I gave up and left.

Portland/Seattle/San Francisco 2010

I got both of these in Seattle at ... I don't remember the name of the store. The first one is just a regular lined notebook but the cover made me laugh. I think the real reason I haven't used it has less to do with it being a souvenir and more to do with that thick spine. As I've mentioned (and no one cares) I do a lot of my writing sitting on my bed using a half-inch binder as a table, so I tend to bend my notebooks in half or else it's just burdensome to write upon.

The other notebook is filled with pictures of walls. Am I supposed to use it to practice tagging? To figure out stencil sizes? Are they supposed to be famous walls? Who knows. I'm not even sure what I can use it for. What types of stories do I write in it?

Australia 2013

The infamous blue notebook! I bought this from a random street vendor selling a bunch of (what I assume) are leather-bound notebooks. No, I can't tell you what drew my eye to the blue one, but I bought it instead of the other brown ones. What a mistake as I discovered the shitty dye job when the color smeared onto my fingers. Update: it still smears as I have blue ink on my fingers yet again. And that's why it stays in its own ziploc bag all the time to keep it from touching my other notebooks. Besides all that, I still like it. It reminds me of a notebook an adventurer on an epic quest or journey might carry, paper bound in hide and I can use the string to tie it all up to protect it from the elements. I know, why don't I write more high fantasy, swords-and-sorcery type stories?

New York 2015

I got all of these at museums while I was wandering New York. The black one and the two smaller, pocket-sized ones on the bottom I got at the Metropolitan Museum of Art while the white one I got at the Museum of Modern Art. The black one I got from the MET is definitely the cooler of the four: it's a hardcover with three different types of paper (lined, graph, and blank) and a flap in the back cover to hold loose notes. I meant to use it to write a fantasy, "swords and sorcery" type story to utilize all the paper types (lined for prose, graph for maps, blank for pictures) but now I don't even want to use it (I'll just buy another graph paper notebook instead).

The two on the bottom are smaller, pocket-sized notebooks. At the time I thought they were a weird size, as they were bigger than the ones I carried in my pocket but smaller than the ones I carried in my bag. Recently though, I've been carrying notebooks about this size and finding they're just the right size for either writing notes or even short sections of stories on the go when I've got the free time - waiting for my food order, sitting at a bar, between phone calls at my desk, etc.

Seattle 2017

 

Honestly, I almost didn't buy a notebook on this trip. There's nothing really special or interesting about it and I don't care for the plastic cover. I bought it just because I needed to buy a notebook. I really wanted to get one from the Museum of Pop Culture that I visited earlier in the day but I couldn't find one I liked. Or, if I'm remembering correctly, I just couldn't find one. And the writing workshop wouldn't be selling any because, really, as if the people attending the conference wouldn't have their own notebooks, as well as their own peculiarities and personal preferences regarding their notebooks. I'd definitely recommend visiting the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum. The shapes and shadows and lighting and colors, it was mesmerizing and, if you have the same loose grip on reality that I do, perhaps you'll see something in those shapes to use in your next story, or nightmare, or wherever your personal demons and hallucinations take you.

Do you also see it?

 

Grand Adventure (Japan/Korea) 2018

 

Both of these notebooks are from the Korea part of my trip. I just couldn't find a notebook I wanted while I was in Japan. I know, I could've just picked one off the shelf in a Don Quijote or Family Mart but it wouldn't be the same. I think the only place I would've liked to buy one was from was the Jump Store but I couldn't find one I like there (I haven't been watching as much anime as I used to). The first notebook I picked up from a Line Store I visited my first day in Korea. At the entrance sat a giant Brown. Thanks to the crossovers with popular animes, I spent a good deal of money on that Line Rangers game. The other one I got from a palace gift shop while I was touring with Tina. Honestly, if you showed me pictures and told me to match them with the names of the palaces, I really wouldn't be able to match them correctly except by sheer luck. At some point they all started to look the same. That said, I also can't tell you which palace I picked it up from.

Hopefully, once this current crisis is over and we can go traveling safely again without all the restrictions in place, I'll get to add more notebooks to the collection.

As a bonus (why are you still here?), here's pictures of some of the notebooks people have brought me as souvenirs from their trips, kind of like how people exchange shot glasses, or other things I don't know I'm not good with gifts.

2nd to the Dark Lord (part 2)

My tear-filled eyes met his and I realized he too was crying. "No, son, it isn't your fault. I'm just an old fool looking to lash out at the world for what was taken from me. A youngster like you wouldn't have stood a chance here two years ago. And besides, you weren't after revenge like we were."

It was my turn to get angry. Instantly I was on my feet and my sword pointed dangerously close to the woodsman's face. "How dare you! The Dark Lord took everything from me. He murdered my family. His troops killed everyone I knew. He left me for dead with a reminder of my failure," I said pointing to the scar running down my face. "I devoted the last three years of my life to this! To revenge!" I kicked the metal helmet and listened to it clang down the otherwise silent hallway.

The fallen adventurer spared a moment to look at both his dead companions. "No, you weren't after revenge and deep down you know it. That's why you're so angry. Though consumed by anger you still sought justice, not revenge. True revenge doesn't wait. It must be had, taken, fulfilled immediately. It doesn't care for right or wrong. It is an all-consuming need, a will forced upon your own that urges you forth." He turned away and it was then that I finally saw it, hidden just behind his eyes - shame.

I shook, backing away. "What did you do?"

The other man just shook his head. "Terrible things best not spoken aloud." His head drooped and his eyes started to close. In a second they snapped open again. "Before I die, tell me, young master, what do you plan to do now that the quest is finished? What plans and hopes and dreams did you have had you gotten here a day earlier and killed the Dark Lord your way?"

Slowly, I lowered my sword and dropped to a knee. "Actually, I thought about going back to the village we met at near Kettorak's Bend. I don't know if you remember the musicians at the Golden Hawk Tavern." I lost myself in thought of the minstrel's middle daughter, the lyre plucked delicately in her hands as her voice filled the room while her midnight-black hair shone in the firelight.

The dying man smiled. "Isabel," he said and I felt my face redden at the mention of her name. "She didn't stop talking about you for three days after you left. The handsome traveler who picked her the loveliest bouquet of starlight roses."

I couldn't help but smile at the memory: stumbling nearly blind in the fields outside the village before the dawn broke for the elusive flowers that only reach full bloom just before the sunrise, and unless cut would also die on the stem once touched by the light.

The other man smiled as well. "Love. That's always a good thing to have waiting for you. Perhaps you could settle down with her there. Or perhaps she could accompany you on your travels." Then his smile faded. "I have nothing waiting for me now that I've had my revenge. This, putting a blade into that foul creature's heart was the only thing I wanted. There was only revenge, and now it's best I die."

I shook my head, fighting back tears. "No, it isn't too late. I'm sure I can get you to a healer in time. I might even have something in my pack that could slow the poison." I unslung my bag and pulled it open.

Before I could sort through my salves and antidotes, the other man lurched forward and grabbed my arm tight with the last of his strength. "Do not tell anyone what we did here. We are murderers, nothing more. We're not what the people deserve. They need a hero now more than ever. One that cares about their needs and wants and dreams. Even a dream as silly as a cape made of hawk feathers." His grip weakened and he fell over, never to move again.

I reached out a hand to close his eyes. Then I dragged him and his compatriots into the throne room, placing their bodies more or less at random spots as long as they weren't next to each other. Taking a polearm from the corpse of a guard, I hacked at their limbs, strewing the ones I could sever about the room. I'd solved a murder or two in my travels as well. I assumed the next person to walk in here will just see another group of fallen heroes, victims of the Dark Lord's army. I placed coins upon their eyes along with a prayer that Judgment be merciful, favoring the consequences of their actions over the manner which they chose to bring about the change they sought.

In the end, I left the castle and corpses behind. There was no parade or formal ceremony for me, as neither I nor the other group told anyone about what we were to do this day. Ruling a kingdom had never been a dream of mine. I just wanted to do exactly what I had been doing, traveling through major cities and forgotten villages and helping those in need. And, one day, bring another bouquet of starlight roses to the most beautiful lyrist I'd ever heard play. I just hoped it wouldn't take another three years to get there.

Inspired by the Reddit Writing Prompt (paraphrasing): You spend three years doing side quests but when you finally show up to the Dark Lord's castle you discover another adventuring party defeated him. I was interested in this prompt the moment I saw it about a month ago but it just took longer to write due to all the different drafts it went through. My original had the other adventurers dressed in the armor of the Dark Lord's guard so the main character mistakes them for traitorous guards instead of adventurers. Then I tried to write one that had the main character going through the whole crime scene and explaining how the other group snuck into the throne room and murdered everyone. Finally I decided to take all of that out and have the main character see what happened and confront the other group. Also, the original version included the main character going through the castle and killing all of the guards with items and weapons collected from his 3 years of traveling. But there's a word limit on Reddit (and this one already exceeds it that I needed to split it into two parts) so I figured I'd just cut that out. Sure, I could have added it into this blog post, but really, I'm already trying to write something else so I'm not going to do that.

2nd to the Dark Lord (part 1)

I stopped in my tracks, sword in hand dripping blood on the stone floors of the castle as guards lay dead or dying behind me scattered all the way back to the castle doors. "Did you just say that the Dark Lord is dead?" I asked. Did my last three years - countless quests, riches won and spent, friendships forged and broken, training learned and forgotten, a journey most men might spend a lifetime walking if they could make it at all - did it all really mean nothing?

In front of me paused three adventurers in armor. I watched them turn to each other silently. Behind them, the throne room doors stood shut. The middle adventurer spoke. "Yes, young master, the Dark Lord is dead, slain by our hands. An epic battle the bards and minstrels will sing songs about for years to come." He moved to the side and his companions pushed themselves against the walls. "You're free to gaze upon the monster's corpse if you wish to put your mind at ease that the deed has been done."

I nodded and stepped slowly forward, a journey of a mere ten steps to the throne room doors taking what felt like hours to reach. Finally, I pushed open the doors prepared for the carnage and mayhem that accompanies battle. Instead what I found was neat and tidy, a murder scene. At my feet lay a woman dressed in silks suited for a bedroom than a battlefield with her throat cut and blood soaking her chest. Next to her lay two servants dead in similar fashion. Their blood had pooled and I needed to take a long stride to get across it and further into the room.

At the other end of the hall the throne sat empty though not at all clean. One side had been partially set aflame, fires still eating slowly away at it. Next to it lay the bodies of three royal guards that had taken the brunt of the fire spell, roasted in their armor. On the other side of the throne lay three more guards with their helmets removed. One let out a single cough, spewing a black sludge onto the feet of the throne before going still. Poison, I thought.

In the very center of the throne room lay the Dark Lord's corpse. His hands bound with a thick cord and dark bruising wrapped a line across his throat, signs of a garrotte wire. They wanted him to die and not quickly. Across his chest lay a small boy and pierced through both bodies was the Dark Lord's own sword. I'd recognize it anywhere. The same sword I saw when I closed my eyes at night. The same one that haunts my dreams as it cuts down my family one by one before turning its edge to me and cutting a deep scar down my face and chest. I shiver as the moment replays itself a dozen times in the blink of an eye. That same sword now sat impaled through its owner and his offspring, soaked in their blood and for reasons unknown to me in that moment I feel a stream of tears fall down my cheeks.

I turned back to the women and closed their bewildered eyes. Then I took some copper coins from my purse and placed one on each eyelid. The guards would need more assistance than I could give as the fire partially welded their helmets shut and I feared getting close to the others without knowing the poisons used in their killing. I pulled the sword from the boy and the Dark Lord and placed it on the ground. The boy I lay next to his father, putting two coins on his eyes. For the Dark Lord, I placed two gold pieces, certain it would cost more than the usual fare for the ferryman to take his darkened soul to the Beyond.

I exited the throne room to find the other group of adventurers still standing in the hallway watching me. I glared back. "There was no battle. You just went in there and murdered those people."

Their leader in the middle just shrugged his shoulders. "We did what needed to be done. The kingdom couldn't wait for you to collect feathers before finally committing to your true quest."

I shook my head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. There's no honor in what was done here today. No justice. Just blood and death. The people will never trust you as their saviors once I tell them the truth. All they'll see is another pack of monsters."

"We can't let you do that," said the adventurer standing on the left as she pulled a throwing knife glistening with poison from her belt. Her companions began to reach for their weapons as well.

Magic, though, is always faster. I activated the Krezteican Ring I won in a high-stakes card game and a wave of invisible energy pushed out around me. The adventurers were tossed backwards except for the one with the knife. She was instead swept up into the air, hitting the ceiling before being slammed back down onto the stone floor with a crunch. She didn't get back up.

The man on the right got to his feet first and launched a fireball in my direction. Thanks to the crime scene I already knew at least one member of their party wielded fire very well. I grabbed the hem of my cloak and pulled it in front of me like a shield, speaking of Word of Power as I did. The fireball hit the cloak with a brilliant flash and then immediately flew back to its caster thanks to the ward stitched into the cloak with golden silk collected from jaguar-spiders of the Crestenting Forest. The man immediately burst into flames, dead before he could even let out a scream.

The leader unsheathed his sword at the same time I drew mine. Our blades clashed in the narrow hallway. Strike, parry, thrust. He was a competent swordsman but he didn't go through the same training I endured at the hands and fists and rods and canes of all the masters I studied under during my three years of travels. He never needed to face down the same gauntlet of bandits and fighters and monsters I slayed.

With a flourish I knocked his sword aside and came down with a strike. Instead of cleaving into his shoulder, the edge of my sword connected with a magical barrier lying an inch above his armor. I swung a fist to keep him off-balance and still hit the magical barrier.

"Dammit, your armor is enchanted," I said backing off a step but careful to avoid tripping over the poisoner's body.

The other man also backed up a step or two and readied himself for another exchange. "My wards and armor will tire you out before you even get a chance to land a killing blow."

I muttered a Word and brushed a hand along the flat of my sword, activating the runes etched in it. Then I charged again with a sword thrust, hoping to shatter his ward and break his armor in one shot. The other man didn't even attempt to to evade or block my attack, instead letting my sword pass his guard and allowing his ward absorb the blow. Instantly, his entire ward flashed a brilliant glow and I could see exactly how it was weaved over his armor.

Suspecting a trick, the other adventurer swung his sword, a killing blow aimed at taking off my head. Instead I dropped my sword and rolled backwards. When I gained my feet, I threw the poisoner's knife as hard as I could. The knife flew through the air and struck true, breaking the  one weak spot in the ward and sinking into a joint between the armor plates.

The other man pulled the knife stuck in his chest. "One of Nadia's knives?" he asked looking at the knife glistening with blood. "Dammit," he said after seeing me give a brief nod. He dropped his sword and sank to the floor with his back propped up against a wall. "How'd you spot the smallest crack in my enchanted armor?"

I stooped to pick up my sword. "When you spend a month collecting hawk feathers in the woods in autumn, there isn't much that can hide from your eyes." Carefully, with my sword, I lifted the helmet off of his head. I dropped to a knee in surprise as the metal helm clanged on the stone. "I know you," I said, staring at the familiar face. "You're the traveling woodsman I met out near Kettorak's Bend."

The woodsman answered me with a glare. "Ah, The Traveler. Off to defeat the Dark Lord you said. Well, looks like me and my party took care of it for you." He spat a glob of phlegm at my feet, already tinged with the black of the poison coursing through him. "And if you had done it like you said you would those two years ago, his troops wouldn't have slaughtered my family last month."

I hung my head, feeling tears starting to well up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry about your family. I knew I needed to get stronger before facing him so I traveled the kingdom to hone my skills. But everywhere I went people needed my help, and I couldn't turn my back on people in need or what kind of hero would I be."

Books of 2020: Quarter 2

Books from the past three months. I somehow managed to finish up the last 8 books of the Dresden Files. Could be from newfound free time that I should be using to be more productive, or maybe re-reading is always faster. I wouldn't know, surprisingly since this is my first-time re-reading these books.

Proven Guilty by Jim Butcher

"Black magic means a black practitioner of some kind, and they tended to be the sorts of people who were both happy to kill and interfering wizard and able to manage it."

"'Rule number one of the wizarding business,' I said. 'Never let them see you sweat. People expect us to know things. It can be a big advantage. Don't screw it up by looking like you're as confused as everyone else. Bad for the image.'"

Harry Dresden is given an ominous message from a senior member of the White Council that someone is using black magic in Chicago. As a newly recruited/drafted warden of the council, it is Dresden's duty to hunt down the practitioner and deal with him or her. The case becomes personal when all signs point at the troubled daughter of his friend and ally. Dresden steps in to protect her from fear-eating monsters that she called upon, but can he also protect her from the judgement of the White Council?

The cases that become personal to Dresden are typically my favorite since it doesn't just become a client that could lose, but someone Dresden is familiar with (a friend or family member) could die and that always raises the stakes slightly. It also means that he takes the actions of his enemies personally and acts in a more serious, and typically violent nature, making the action better. Plus, at the end of it all, Dresden enters the next phase of wizarding: taking on an apprentice.

White Night by Jim Butcher

"When he came back out, the smile was gone. We got suited up. Swords and guns and grey cloaks and staves and magical gewgaws left and right, yeehaw. One of these days, I swear, as long as I'm playing supernatural sheriff of Chicago, I'm getting myself some honest-to-God spurs and a ten-gallon hat."

Harry Dresden has been busy with his new duties as Warden of the White Council fighting the war against the Red Court Vampires, training new wardens, and hunting down warlocks, as well as training his new apprentice. Too busy, unfortunately, to notice female practitioners turning up dead throughout Chicago. Others are being seen in the company of a tall man in a grey cloak before they vanish, a man very much resembling a warden, Dresden himself, or his brother Thomas, a White Court vampire. Could his brother be back to hunting humans as his family does? Or are there other monsters on the prowl?

Do you want vampires to be the pale, beautiful creatures depicted in Twilight compared to the monstrous bat-like creatures usually featured in The Dresden Files? Well, you'll like this book in the series. Though it isn't the first time the Vampire White Court is introduced (see Death Masks), it does go further in depth into the different Houses that make up the White Court as well as how they operate compared to the other Vampire Courts. The Whites feed upon human emotion (Thomas and his family prefer lust, other Houses feed on fear and despair). And not only does this one have an actual, formal duel, but the best team-up: Dresden and Gentlemen John Marcone, the infamous Chicago mobster.

Small Favor by Jim Butcher

"At one time in my life, a shapeshifted, demonically possessed maniac crashing through a window and trying to rip my face off would have come as an enormous and nasty surprise.

But that time was pretty much in the past."

"I followed the trail of smitten fiends. Smiten fiends? Smited fiends? Smoted fiends? Don't look at me. I never finished high school. Maybe learning the various conjugations of to smite had been in senior-year English. It sure as hell hadn't been on my GED test."

Harry Dresden is given the opportunity by Mab, Queen of the Winter Fae, to settle the second of three debts he owes to her: investigate the kidnapping of John Marcone, crime lord of Chicago's underworld and a newly signed baron of The Accords. When it's discovered that the kidnappers were the Knights of the Blackened Denarius, Dresden sets out to rescue Marcone despite their differences. If fighting against Fallen Angels wasn't hard enough the Summer Fae have sent their own champions to foil Dresden's efforts.

This book felt like a jumble of different storylines blended together as if a lot of things either needed to be tied up from previous books or needing to be set up for future stories. That said, I did like seeing how the supernatural Powers/Nations interact with each other. I think it is one of the first books that we get to see a lot of the different supernatural entities at once instead of just presented one at a time. Introduced in previous books, The Accords is a document that governs the relationships between supernatural entities as a way to keep the peace. In this book we get to see the Denarians violate The Accords by abducting Marcone, the first mortal to have signed onto the Accords. Though Mab is acting against this violation, the Summer Fae still must send someone to oppose her efforts as summer must always oppose winter. And, since the Denarians are involved, of course, the Knights of the Cross also arrive to oppose them. By involving Dresden and the White Council, Mab brings in another Accorded Nation to resolve the challenge.

Turn Coat by Jim Butcher

"'They aren't invulnerable. They can be killed.'....

'How'd you do it?' I asked, without looking behind me...

'It was the fifties,' he said. 'Started in New Mexico. It followed me to Nevada. I lured it onto a government testing site, and stepped across into the Nevernever just before the bomb went off.'

I blinked and looked over my shoulder at him. 'You nuked it?'"

"If I was going to die, it was going to be a bloody and spectacular mess.

'Bring it!' I screamed back at the naagloshii, my terror and rage making my voice sharp and high and rough. I cupped my right hand as if preparing to throw a baseball, drew up my will, and filled my palm with scarlet fire. I thrust out my left hand and ran my will through the shield bracelet handing there, preparing a defense, and as I did I felt the power of the land beneath my feet, felt it spreading out around me, drawing in supportive energy. 'Bring it! Bring it, you dickless freak!'"

Warden Morgan pursued Harry Dresden for most of his life, suspecting him of dabbling in black magic and a potential, if not already, warlock. When Morgan shows up bloody and beaten at Dresden's home looking for sanctuary from the White Council's wardens, Dresden lets him in. Knowing Morgan's fanatical commitment to the White Council and the Laws of Magic, Dresden believes Morgan's innocence and sets out to find who framed Morgan. Of course, life is never as simple as dealing with one problem at a time as Dresden must also deal with a naagloshii, a Native American shapeshifting monster, that is also hunting down the injured warden.

Though the main plot is figuring out who the real traitor within the White Council really is, my main interest in the story was the fight against the naagloshii. Besides the Fallen Angels, the naagloshii was the most formidable foe Dresden has faced in a while. Not only can it shapeshift into different animals, but it transform different parts of its body to suit its needs; it is almost impervious to magic and can cast spells as well; it is physically superior to not just human beings but other supernatural entities such as vampires; and, worst of  all, all it cares about is inflicting pain against others.

Changes by Jim Butcher

"Monsters who had taken my child.

The man once wrote: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger. Tolkein had that one mostly right.

I stepped forward, let the door bang closed, and snarled, 'Fuck subtle.'...

Silver-white fire howled down the hallway and bit into the corner ahead, blowing through it as easily as a bullet through a paper target."

"I growled as a column of pure rage rose up my spine and made my voice rough. 'I will make Maggie safe. If the world burns because of that, then so be it. Me and the kid will roast some marshmallows.'"

When Susan Rodriguez calls Harry Dresden to let him know that the Red Court vampires have kidnapped their daughter, Dresden immediately knows what he's going to do - he's going to get his daughter back no matter the costs.

To compare this book to TV shows, this is the season finale of The Walking Dead when Shane gets back up as a zombie despite not being bitten; it's the season one finale of Killing Eve when Eve stabs Villanelle as they're lying in bed together; it's this past season finale of Prodigal Son when Ainsley slits Endicott's throat. It's that "Holy Shit!" episode that just keeps you reading because you need to know how this whole thing ends. Changes wraps up the ongoing war between the Red Court vampires and the White Council that started in book three, so of course, this is the epic climax.

Ghost Story by Jim Butcher

"Besides, there was one more thing that made me certain that I wanted to go back. At the end of the day ... some son of a bitch had freaking killed me

That's not the kind of thing you can just let stand."

"'Aaaaaaaagh!' I screamed, emerging from the wards and onto Murphy's front lawn, chock-ful of new insight as to why ghosts are always moaning or wailing when they come popping out of somebody's wall or floor. Not much mystery there - it freaking hurts."

In the aftermath of Changes, Harry Dresden finds himself a ghost in Chicago months after his death. Given a chance to either move on to the hereafter or return to the mortal realm to investigate his own death, Dresden returns to Chicago especially if it means helping his friends. He'll need to navigate his new situation and surroundings quickly if he wants to stop a horde of murderous ghosts and one particular ghost determined to re-enter the land of the living.

As I said of Grave Peril, I'm not a fan of ghost stories. Having Dresden drop in power level as he navigates a temporary existence as a ghost made for a slower read. This book mostly felt like a reflection for Dresden to come to terms with the events of Changes and the hard choices he needed to make, as well as set-up the next season of The Dresden Files with a new enemy and new allies.

Cold Days by Jim Butcher

"Mab made a low, hungry sound in her throat as she leaned down, until her lips were almost touching my ear.

'I have no use for weakness, wizard.' She shivered in a kind of slow, alien ecstasy. 'Rest. Heal. Sleep. I shall most likely kill you on the morrow.'

'You? A Princess Bride quote?' I croaked.

"'Thwart,' I said. 'To prevent someone from accomplishing something by means of visiting gratuitous violence upon his smarmy person.'"

Harry Dresden is back in the world of the living to fulfill his bargain with Mab, Queen of the Winter Fae, as her Winter Knight. Her first task is an impossible one: kill another immortal. At the same time, Dresden discovers the new enemy literally at their gates: The Outsiders, a collection of entities not of this universe seeking to come in and kill everyone. Dresden needs to figure out how to get the job done quick as he's being pursued by enemies both within the Winter and Summer Fae Courts but also by The Outsiders and their allies.

Honestly, Cold Days was kind of forgettable in terms of plot. The newest revelation is the coming of the Outsiders as the new Big Bad Enemy. Dresden takes time to get used to being alive again and once again meeting with old friends. My favorite part comes with the return of the Wild Hunt, a supernatural phenomenon depicted as hunters on horseback surrounded by hounds that sweeps along the mortal world unseen either killing anyone it encounters or forcing them to join in the hunt.

Skin Game by Jim Butcher

"'Who?' I asked him. 'Whose vault are you knocking over?'

'An ancient being of tremendous power,' he replied in his roughened voice, his smile widening. "You may know him as Hades, the Lord of the Underworld.'"

"Michael approached me with his eyes wide and said, 'Dear God in Heaven, Harry. That was amazing. I've never seen you move so quickly.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'There aren't many perks to being the Winter Knight, but that's one of them.'

'Did you shout 'Parkour'?' Michael asked.

'Well, sure,' I said. 'That was kinda Parkour-like.'

Michael fought to keep a smile off his face. 'Harry,' he said, 'I'm almost certain one doesn't shout 'Parkour.' I believe one is supposed to simply do Parkour.'"

To fulfill a debt to Nicodemus (leader of those possessed by Fallen Angels), Mab loans out the services of her new Winter Knight, Harry Dresden. The job is a simple one: break into a vault and steal the contents inside. Except the vault they want isn't on the mortal plane, it's in the Underworld ... and it belongs to Hades. Of course, whatever Nicodemus has planned for the contents of the vault can't be good, and so Dresden must find a way to foil his plans while still fulfilling his queen's word.

It had to come eventually and it didn't disappoint: a supernatural heist! Of course, there's the standard, introduce the team and their abilities, plus Dresden gets to bring in some friends to watch his back. As usually, something will always go wrong and Dresden will need to find a way to save his friends while still maintaining his cover within the group. And of course, the thing that the group is after isn't really what the job is about.

Emberwilde Comes: Pallet Town (part two)

The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees from the hot, humid air outside yet I couldn't see an ice pokemon anywhere. All around me, metal boxes lined the walls , each giving off their own distinct high-pitched buzz. People dressed in similar white coats to the older man bustled back and forth, some carrying stacks of paper, others with smaller metal buzzing boxes, some with trays of pokeballs.

"You have a very large family." I said, looking at all the busy people, "Do they all live here?"

The older man let out a small laugh and shook his head. "No, these folks are all scientists like myself. And this isn't a house, it's a laboratory. Here we do research projects related to the study of pokemon." He gestured for me to follow and together we went to the very back of the lab. "You can call me Professor Oak. I'm in charge of the lab and pokemon research in the Kanto region. I also help to guide the new pokemon trainers on their journey, as well as provide them with their very own starter pokemon." He gestured to a small table in the center of the room. On the table were three tiny stands, each one big enough to hold one pokeball.

"Pokemon trainers?" I asked, not understanding the words. In the villages of the Tartarus Isles, the older pokemon taught the younger ones. The only role humans played was the occasional target practice.

Professor Oak nodded his head. "Here in Kanto and many other region, a young person like yourself will set out into the world to learn and discover and follow their dream of becoming the greatest pokemon trainer. The human and pokemon work together to become stronger battlers. Unlike the task given to a Bearer, the trainer and their pokemon start off weak and seek to grow together into strong partners."

"It seems cruel to send ones so weak into the world on their own," I replied.

The professor shook his head. "Not at all. In fact it's the best way for the trainer and pokemon to bond, by becoming stronger together," he said. Professor Oak motioned to the empty stands. "In fact you just missed seeing one of your own kin begin his very own pokemon journey."

I looked at the older man, confused. "I thought you said that the other other Bearers were here a couple days ago."

"Not your human kin, but other pokemon from the Tartarus Isles. Certain pokemon native to the Kanto region are harder to find roaming free in the wild than in the days of my youth. My team is currently researching the cause of these dwindling numbers. Until then, I would like to thank your isle's clans for parting with their own."

I looked at the three stands recently emptied of their pokeballs. "The runts," I said, looking back at Professor Oak, "This is where they end up? Battling side by side with young humans?" I thought on the idea, of Pokemon and humans working as a team, each of them growing and learning from one another. It was a new concept as I knew Emberwilde would not seek counsel from me, nor was I free to give it without reason. Still though, I thought, looking at the empty stands, imagining three pokeballs being picked up by three children, all six of them naive to the world and the dangers they faced, yet full of hope and the opportunities before them.

I nodded. "It's a better life than they could expect on the island," I said, thinking of the young Charmander awakening from its pokeball to find a young, wide-eyed human to watch over it, and protect it. Then I thought about the encounter with the arrogant boy outside. What was his name? "Gary," I said vehemently, turning back to the doorway. I felt my body tense and my heart start to race. Anger filled my being. No one from our clan would suffer being paired with that boy, not when I was close enough to stop it. I wouldn't allow it!

Before I could start toward the door to catch up with Gary so Emberwilde could unleash fury upon him, I felt a strong hand grasp my shoulder. Instinctively I turned and let out a snarl, my hand going to Emberwilde's pokeball. Then I saw the old man's kind face, his head shaking. "No, it's fine. Your kin didn't end up with my grandson. I paired a very special pokemon with Gary, one that I hope will teach him about partnership and trust."

I felt my rage subside, my heartbeat slow and breathing calm. I counted to ten before nodding to the professor and he took his hand off of my shoulder. "Thank you for showing me this," I said, "but I think I'd better be going now. My own rivals already have a couple days headstart."

The professor again shook his head. "It's going to be dark soon. You might as well stay here for the night. Besides, I still haven't told you anything about your tasks as a Bearer yet." He opened a drawer and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper and a small plastic card. "A map to help you navigate the Kanto region. There's some money in an account already set up for you, payment to your clan for the adoption of their young. You can use the money to buy food, items such as pokeballs and potions, and secure shelter."

He had me follow him to a small couch set up in the corner. "As I said, you can stay here for the night, and I'll explain more about Kanto in the morning and the Bearer's tasks." Then he wrinkled his nose. "My last piece of advice for the night is to shower and shower often. Feel free to use the emergency shower in the corner. In Kanto, we generally try to cover-up distasteful smells. You'll find others more approachable if you aren't so smelly." With that, the Professor departed, leaving me in the room alone.

I grabbed one of the stands and brought it into the back room, setting it up on a low table. I placed Emberwilde's pokeball upon it. "We shall begin your quest tomorrow, after the Professor has provided the rest of his information." The ball shook slightly in acknowledgement.

I headed to the shower and scrubbed myself clean, unclear about why humans would want to smell like anything other than human. Our scent let the pokemon know we were around, helping us to avoid being stepped on by the unsuspecting, or mauled by the startled. I rinsed my clothes in the shower too after pulling another set from my bag.

I lay down to sleep after rifling through the contents of the lab fridge for food. Staring at Emberwilde's still pokeball, I thought about what Professor Oak told me: about partnership and growth and trust, and dreamed about what that would look like back home - and I couldn't. I really was a long way from home.

Emberwilde Comes: Pallet Town (part one)

I arrived in Pallet Town two days after we departed the Tartarus Isles. With just the clothes on my back, one bag packed in a hurry, and Emberwilde in my pokeball at my hip, I got off the docks and entered into the town. In school, they showed us images of human cities with towering buildings rising to the clouds, the hordes of people bustling here and there, the only Pokemon running free being the rodent-types scrapping by to survive. Pallet Town looked a lot closer to my village back home, just with less Pokemon walking amongst the people. It was still a human village, after all. I assumed a majority of the structures to be houses with perhaps one of them being a general store.

It was too bad I couldn't stay longer and get my bearings. This was the furthest I'd ever been from home and despite the excitement of traveling through a new land, it was still an intimidating challenge. But the Fire King entrusted me to bear Emberwilde through this foreign land as the champion of our village and we were already behind the others.

I made my way to the opposite end of the village toward the woods, passing a giant building two or three times the size of the average home. As I got to the village exit my eyes naturally darted to the movement on my right as someone exited the giant structure. A brown-haired boy around my age walked out the doors and down the pathway with a shiny pokeball in his hands. Every couple of month poachers and hunters looking to steal Pokemon either as trophies or slaves in their battles arrive in our islands. I saw in his eyes and the smile on his face the same look those grunts wore when they first land on our beaches, right before our Fire King and his lords descended upon them.

I made no effort to move, letting the other boy walk into me. He stumbled backwards and planted his butt in the gravel road. Surprisingly, he kept the pokeball braced in his hands rather than let it fall into the dirt. I decided that perhaps he wasn't a bad person, maybe just a little rude. I offered him a hand up. He took it and got to his feet, dusting himself off.

"How about you watch were you're going, new guy," the other boy said, glaring at me. I stood still and silent feeling it to be undignified for our clan's champion to be provoked by mockery. "What's your name anyways?" Still I said nothing. I saw his eyes scan over my dirty clothing and eventually settle on the black and red pokeball at my hip. His smile returned. "Well no name. I see you've got a pokeball there. And I just got a brand new one from Gramps in there. How about we break them in with a little battle?" He held up his pokeball in front of him as he spoke as if trying to show me where pokemon came from.

I shook my head. "That would be neither wise nor fair, unless you've somehow stumbled across a gym leader level pokemon, in which case I doubt you'd be able to control it."

The other boy snarled and backed away, pokeball still in hand. "Oh yeah. Let's see whose pokemon is stronger."

I just shrugged my shoulders and reached for Emberwilde's pokeball. As the kid reared back to throw, an older man stepped out of the giant building, arms crossed.

"Gary stop what you're doing right now," the older man said, his voice stern and authoritative. Gary lowered his arm and turned to the older man. Before the boy could say anything though, the older man spoke again. "Please stop bothering our visitor and run along. You've got a long ways to go if you want to be a Pokemon master."

Gary sneered and put the ball back onto his belt. "Okay Gramps, I'll be leaving now." Then he turned to me. "The next time we meet, Gramps won't be around to protect you."

I just shook my head. "You've got that backwards, Gary. Run along and play now before Emberwilde eats you."

Gary gave me one last sneer before shouldering passed me and disappearing off onto the forest trail. I let out the breath I'd been holding once he was out of sight. If all people in this region were as hot-headed as that boy, Emberwilde might return to the Tartarus Isles at nearly double his weight. I wasn't sure if he'd be able to fly at that size, and I definitely wasn't going to ask him.

"Young man," the older man called to me, waving a hand, "would you mind coming inside for a bit. Your rivals passed through here a couple days ago. They mentioned you'd been held up for your injury" He nodded his head toward my bandaged arm.

Instinctively, I stuck my left hand behind my back pretending to scratch an itch. Raised amongst the strongest and deadliest of pokemon teaches one to not make a weakness known to one's enemies. I didn't like it but I would probably need some information to navigate this new world. Since he spoke with the other two Bearers, perhaps he would also have information for me as well. I nodded and walked into the older man's home.

The Cape (afterword)

And now the part I expect most people to skip (or should be skipping at least), the part where I talk about how I put this thing together - all those bulky, clumsy Lego blocks I used to build this story. And not those miniature, precise pieces you'd use to build The Death Star or a scale model of Disneyland, but those fist-sized blocks you stick together to make a sword/club that shatters after one good hit on your brother's head before your mom drags you around the house shouting about how your dad is going to beat your ass when he gets home even though he started it in the first place and you didn't even hit him that hard so you don't know why he's crying for.

This first came about a year ago, I think, or just about maybe. There was a Reddit prompt about a captured superhero stripping off his clothes while the bad guys laughed but, they didn't know that his powers were dependent on his clothing, or something like that (I can't find it anymore). My original story was just the ending part when the protagonist strips off his clothes to reveal the clothing of another. Actually, I think originally I had it as the clothing of a supervillain and then kills the bad guy. But then I started asking how would he get into the lair in the first place so I thought up that beginning part. Then there NEEDED to be multiple transformations and well from there it just got way out of hand.

Speaking of which, The Cape is currently one of three (not counting Emberwilde Comes, my pokemon fanfic) unfinished longer stories that just got way out of hand for a writing prompt response. I'm working on getting around to finishing the other ones eventually.

Several parts were really hard for me to put together. I finished the main story months ago (yeah, it's just been sitting on my laptop this whole time). I struggled for a long time on that fight scene at the end between The Talon and Tiny, especially after The Talon gets some of his lines undone. I actually went onto Youtube and binged MMA fight videos and read some articles on fighting, especially on ways to close distance against a larger opponent. The next hardest thing was names for the characters. I'm just not good at it. And now I needed six plus descriptions of their insignias. Finally came how to separate it all into pieces. If you read my last story, firstly, I'm sorry as Chicken or the Egg should've been broken into two parts. And I've seen some terrible editing especially on TV when it's time to add commercial breaks into movies. If you've ever seen "John Wick" on Paramount you know what I mean (who puts a commercial right in the middle of a fight scene, especially the first one). I re-read this a couple times to figure out where a natural break might be and, as you know, re-reading is so, so boring. It actually put me to sleep a couple of times.

In the aftermath of this, The Legion seems like a really good superhero to use if I ever continue on with The Sovereignty or with any other story about superheroes. Not written in the original story, The Legion is, yes, just one person who is able to use a variety of superpowers, the limits being he can only use the powers people believe he has. There was this superpower I thought up a long time ago called "What you see is what you get" that, based on how people perceived you, you could get a boost in abilities. Like, for instance, if you wore a stupid shirt with a fist donned with a crown and with the help of wires and a crane and camera angles, conned people into believing you were super-strong, from then on when people saw you in that stupid shirt you would be super strong because they believed you were super-strong.