A passage from the upcoming Book X of the Mirrors series:

“An atomic bomb,” Tom said, nodding his head. “Where it splits an atom causing an explosion?”

“Well, so I’m informed; I never made it to any advanced mathematics,” Jerome replied. “But not just one atom; quite a lot of them packed very close together and then blown up causing the split and explosion. We dropped two of them on Japan and they threw up the sponge.”

“It sounds very horrible,” Aleste said. 

“It is very horrible, but it did end the war.”

“It did, but I perceive it was like the way my grandmother ended the war; it just made more wars.”

“That was magic.”

“So is your terrible bomb; you and your people have just forgotten what magic is. People always want short cuts.” Aleste shrugged. “And who am I to talk?”

“Couldn’t you stop using magic?,” Tom asked.

“I’d like to but I can’t; it is too late. Mother is wrong; it can’t be fixed. We’re just stuck with it now. Like your people and that bomb.”

Tom nodded.

“We all learn a bit, but never early enough.”

“Well, I sure didn’t. But if I had to guess, Tom, you learned soon enough.”

He shook his head.

“Not nearly soon enough.” He touched the globe and anchor emblem on his blouse. “Dad was a Marine in World War One. Fought in the Argonne. Told me about it. But he left out some details.”

“That’s as old as time.”

“Sure is. But I didn’t help myself. I was Romantic about it on purpose, I guess. What was my meat and potatoes?”

Tom stood up and started to recite with dramatic gestures:

The first that the general saw were the groups

Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops;

What was done? what to do? a glance told him both,

Then, striking his spurs, with a terrible oath,

He dashed down the line ‘mid a storm of huzzas,

And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because

The sight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray;

By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril’s play,

He seemed to the whole great army to say,

“I have brought you Sheridan all the way

From Winchester, down to save the day!”

“Gorgeous bit of poetry by Thomas Read. Dad loved it so much he named me after him.”

“It is a good bit of poetry,” Aleste said. “Stirring.”

“It is that, but I’d have been better off reading Sassoon.”

“What did he write?”

“Oh, a little more bitter than that.” 

“Please, tell me. I have to know. To learn.”

“All right.”

“You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye

Who cheer when soldier lads march by,

Sneak home and pray you’ll never know

The hell where youth and laughter go.”

“That is bitter and I’m sorry for him. But it is something to know.”

“It is that.”

I really like that bit – the attitude is deeply woven into the whole tale: we must be brave. But let’s not kid ourselves, either. I think it is something that we have definitely lost in our storytelling. You think of even the very good war movies of the past 30 years or so and throughout them is a thread of its just suffering and you must get through it – but there is also heroism, which cleanses the effort. As long as we are this side of the hereafter, things won’t be all neat and tidy.

The latest example of this is some people getting upset that we’re killing drug smugglers. For goodness sake, they’re de-facto pirates. We can hang them after a drumhead court martial…its actually a mercy to whack them with a missile. It is over quickly. And we should be celebrating our sailors and airmen doing the deeds – they’re defending the least of us from a horrible scourge. And, sure, we can also spare a thought to those we kill – some of them are very much compelled to do it. But, then again, a man who truly knows the value of life would never hold his life more valuable than someone else’s…and everyone who gets into those boats has done just that, and so is getting what’s coming to them…getting, that is, what they were going to deal out. And more mercilessly…over a period of years, and the destruction of not merely individuals …but of families and whole communities.

I think we need to spin better tales, guys. I wish I were a better writer – that I could write something that would shake the world! I hope that some of ours eventually do…because we need stories that enlighten and encourage us. That show us that the good guys do win…but that even the most glorious victory comes with a high price.

Anyways, just a bit of thought I’m having as I polish up the book and get it ready for publication!