C. David Belt's Blog, page 10
August 26, 2018
Another Advance Review of “The Arawn Prophecy”
“The Arawn Prophecy” was a beautifully crafted story. I was drawn in by characters so well-written, I could have sworn I was there with them. This was a story built around keeping faith during times that seemed to contradict everything, and rising above and becoming stronger for it.
Kimberly King – Logan, UT
Another Advance Review of “The Arawn Prophecy”
“The Arawn Prophecy” drew me in and made me feel as though I was part of the story. I joined Marcus Scribonius “Audaxus” as he fought physical battles in the Roman army and struggled with matters of faith and temptation. I joined Maelona as she transformed from slave to princess. As their relationship changed from fear to love, I felt the emotions they were going through. I joined Branwen while she was having her own inner struggles with her feelings for Marcus. I joined them all on their journey to fight the wicked priests of Arawn as they put their fear behind and found the courage they needed to face what could possibly be their last battle. I did not want the story to end! I couldn’t put the book down.
Thank you for an amazing, exciting, wonderful journey, C. David Belt!
Carrie Farnsworth – Kaysville, UT
August 21, 2018
First Advance Review of “The Arawn Prophecy”
John Abercrombie — Bountiful, Utah
First Advance Review of “The Arawn Option”
John Abercrombie — Bountiful, Utah
August 16, 2018
Author’s Note from “The Arawn Prophecy” (coming soon…)
I used to love the movie Braveheart. I mean, I loved it. Such an inspiring story of courage! Like great bagpipe music, it stirred my blood. (And to those who might say, “There’s no such thing as ‘great bagpipe music,’” I say, you have never heard the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing “Amazing Grace” with bagpipes…)
I teach classes on Medieval weaponry and armor at writers’ conferences and Renaissance faires—“Swords and Spears and Axes, Oh My (Medieval Weapons 101).” I have collected a rather large arsenal of ancient weapons— some are truly ancient, while most are battle-ready, museum-quality replicas of actual museum pieces. I pass the swords, spears, axes, war hammers, maces, daggers, etc. around and allow participants to heft and handle them, while I sing songs and tell tales from history and talk about how those lovely, lethal objects were actually used.
At writers’ conferences, the purpose of the class is to allow authors and aspiring authors the opportunity to describe combat with a greater degree of accuracy, and in many cases, to wisely choose which weapons their characters should use in their stories. At the Ren faires, I’m attempting to infuse a greater love of history and a love and respect for the brave men and women who stand between us and the darkness and have done so throughout history.
In my classes, when I talk about the Battle of Bannockburn, I ask, “How many of ye have ever seen the “entertainment” known as Braveheart? (I call it an “entertainment”, because it’s a Ren faire and movies didn’t exist in whatever time period is being portrayed. Also, I do my classes “in-character” to match my full Scottish garb, including kilt.) In answer to my question, a great number of people raise their hands, including myself. Then I ask, “How many of ye ken it’s all a pack of lies?”
That elicits a laugh.
Then I list off some of those lies—
“Nobody wore kilts at the time.”
“William Wallace was a nobleman, nae a commoner. He was Laird Protector of Scotland, fer cryin’ out loud!”
“William Wallace was a Lowlander, nae a Highlander.”
“William Wallace did nae cry, ‘Freedom!’ as ’tis impossible tae yell anythin’ when your diaphragm has been removed, which is part of the mode of execution known as drawing-and-quartering.”
“There was nae ever any such a thing as prima nocta.”
“Robert was a true Scottish patriot, nae a craven political maneuver.”
“Oh, and the princess? She was six years-old when Wallace died and had ne’er been tae Scotland. So… that did nae happen.”
So when, to my dismay, I learned of all the inaccuracies and blatant lies that were portrayed in that beloved movie, I did some research of my own on the screenwriter who wrote the movie (who claims to be a descendant of William Wallace and whom I will not name here). When questioned about the non-historical nature of the film, he said, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”
Well, I simply can’t do that. Yes, I know I’m writing fiction, but I want to keep the story as close to the truth as possible. No, “want” isn’t a strong-enough word. I need to stay as close to the truth as possible, otherwise, the story rings false. But, especially in the case of this story, I am fighting Hollywood tooth and nail. Ancient Rome has been depicted many times in film, and so, increasingly, has first century Roman Britannia. And the inaccuracies are often stunning.
So while I am no scholarly expert on this period of history and this setting, I have painstakingly researched in order to keep the details as accurate as possible. And I have consulted with a former professor of antiquities, a friend of mine in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. In fact, I have talked his ear off. And he has graciously and patiently listened and advised.
So, as you read this story, I am going to challenge (and decimate) many of the images that Hollywood has spoon-fed into your minds. (By the way, decimate is a very interesting word with Roman military origins. It didn’t mean then what it means today…) So, please be prepared to set aside many of your preconceived notions.
Here’s one example—did you know that there were only eighteen Roman male first names in use during the first century? The main character is named Marcus Scribonius. And in his century (Roman military unit) of eighty men, fifteen other men would have the first name of Marcus. So at this period, one would never refer to Marcus Scribonius simply as “Marcus.” One would almost always use his first name and his family name—Marcus Scribonius. Only in an intimate setting would he ever be called “Marcus,” and then only if there were no other Marcuses in the room.
Another example—the Romans, while obsessed with bathing, did not use soap (and, yes, soap was around at the time). They cleaned their skin by rubbing olive oil into the skin, and then scraping it off with a flat, hook-shaped instrument called a strigil. I have to admit, when I discovered this little fact, my mind was officially blown. And they washed clothes in urine.
And in spite of what you have seen in the movies, the Roman short sword known as the gladius was not used to hack at the enemy. It was a thrusting weapon, used to stab at the enemy. So there was none of this sword-clashing-on-sword fighting in the Roman army. In fact, legionnaires were not trained in one-on-one combat—they trained and fought only as organized units. And they were extremely effective.
If you have read my other published works, you may recognize certain characters and circumstances, and I hope that will bring you joy. If you have not read my other published novels, don’t worry—you will still be able to fully enjoy the story.
For me, this has been a fun ride—all of it, including the late nights of historical research. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.
Author’s Note from “The Arawn Option” (coming soon…)
I used to love the movie Braveheart. I mean, I loved it. Such an inspiring story of courage! Like great bagpipe music, it stirred my blood. (And to those who might say, “There’s no such thing as ‘great bagpipe music,’” I say, you have never heard the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing “Amazing Grace” with bagpipes…)
I teach classes on Medieval weaponry and armor at writers’ conferences and Renaissance faires—“Swords and Spears and Axes, Oh My (Medieval Weapons 101).” I have collected a rather large arsenal of ancient weapons— some are truly ancient, while most are battle-ready, museum-quality replicas of actual museum pieces. I pass the swords, spears, axes, war hammers, maces, daggers, etc. around and allow participants to heft and handle them, while I sing songs and tell tales from history and talk about how those lovely, lethal objects were actually used.
At writers’ conferences, the purpose of the class is to allow authors and aspiring authors the opportunity to describe combat with a greater degree of accuracy, and in many cases, to wisely choose which weapons their characters should use in their stories. At the Ren faires, I’m attempting to infuse a greater love of history and a love and respect for the brave men and women who stand between us and the darkness and have done so throughout history.
In my classes, when I talk about the Battle of Bannockburn, I ask, “How many of ye have ever seen the “entertainment” known as Braveheart? (I call it an “entertainment”, because it’s a Ren faire and movies didn’t exist in whatever time period is being portrayed. Also, I do my classes “in-character” to match my full Scottish garb, including kilt.) In answer to my question, a great number of people raise their hands, including myself. Then I ask, “How many of ye ken it’s all a pack of lies?”
That elicits a laugh.
Then I list off some of those lies—
“Nobody wore kilts at the time.”
“William Wallace was a nobleman, nae a commoner. He was Laird Protector of Scotland, fer cryin’ out loud!”
“William Wallace was a Lowlander, nae a Highlander.”
“William Wallace did nae cry, ‘Freedom!’ as ’tis impossible tae yell anythin’ when your diaphragm has been removed, which is part of the mode of execution known as drawing-and-quartering.”
“There was nae ever any such a thing as prima nocta.”
“Robert was a true Scottish patriot, nae a craven political maneuver.”
“Oh, and the princess? She was six years-old when Wallace died and had ne’er been tae Scotland. So… that did nae happen.”
So when, to my dismay, I learned of all the inaccuracies and blatant lies that were portrayed in that beloved movie, I did some research of my own on the screenwriter who wrote the movie (who claims to be a descendant of William Wallace and whom I will not name here). When questioned about the non-historical nature of the film, he said, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”
Well, I simply can’t do that. Yes, I know I’m writing fiction, but I want to keep the story as close to the truth as possible. No, “want” isn’t a strong-enough word. I need to stay as close to the truth as possible, otherwise, the story rings false. But, especially in the case of this story, I am fighting Hollywood tooth and nail. Ancient Rome has been depicted many times in film, and so, increasingly, has first century Roman Britannia. And the inaccuracies are often stunning.
So while I am no scholarly expert on this period of history and this setting, I have painstakingly researched in order to keep the details as accurate as possible. And I have consulted with a former professor of antiquities, a friend of mine in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. In fact, I have talked his ear off. And he has graciously and patiently listened and advised.
So, as you read this story, I am going to challenge (and decimate) many of the images that Hollywood has spoon-fed into your minds. (By the way, decimate is a very interesting word with Roman military origins. It didn’t mean then what it means today…) So, please be prepared to set aside many of your preconceived notions.
Here’s one example—did you know that there were only eighteen Roman male first names in use during the first century? The main character is named Marcus Scribonius. And in his century (Roman military unit) of eighty men, fifteen other men would have the first name of Marcus. So at this period, one would never refer to Marcus Scribonius simply as “Marcus.” One would almost always use his first name and his family name—Marcus Scribonius. Only in an intimate setting would he ever be called “Marcus,” and then only if there were no other Marcuses in the room.
Another example—the Romans, while obsessed with bathing, did not use soap (and, yes, soap was around at the time). They cleaned their skin by rubbing olive oil into the skin, and then scraping it off with a flat, hook-shaped instrument called a strigil. I have to admit, when I discovered this little fact, my mind was officially blown. And they washed clothes in urine.
And in spite of what you have seen in the movies, the Roman short sword known as the gladius was not used to hack at the enemy. It was a thrusting weapon, used to stab at the enemy. So there was none of this sword-clashing-on-sword fighting in the Roman army. In fact, legionnaires were not trained in one-on-one combat—they trained and fought only as organized units. And they were extremely effective.
If you have read my other published works, you may recognize certain characters and circumstances, and I hope that will bring you joy. If you have not read my other published novels, don’t worry—you will still be able to fully enjoy the story.
For me, this has been a fun ride—all of it, including the late nights of historical research. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.
July 9, 2018
“I say ye, John Dickinson!”
John Dickinson (1732-1808) is not the best-remembered of the Founding Fathers of the United States of America, and that is, in my not-so-humble (and almost always correct) opinion, a profound shame, especially today.
Dickinson was a member of the Pennsylvania delegation to the Second Continental Congress, and in that congress, he was the leading voice AGAINST American independence. In fact, when it came time to sign the Declaration of Independence and to pledge to each other their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor, Dickinson resigned from Congress, refusing to sign.
His reasons for doing so, when viewed strictly through a modern lens, seem misguided at best, self-serving, unamerican, or even treasonous at worst. However, to do so would be to do a great and loyal American a terrible disservice. Dickinson was a true American patriot and an honest and selfless man who laid his life on the line for his country (meaning, the U.S.A.). He argued forcibly that American independence was wrong at that time, because he believed the colonies could not win a war against the greatest military power in the world at the time (Great Britain), he believed the colonies would need the help of a great foreign nation (and we did—France) before we could declare independence, he believed we needed a national government in place before we could declare independence (he was one of the authors of the Articles of Confederation and insisted they be completed first), and he believed that violence was not the answer to settling the dispute. While I am grateful that the voices for independence won out (and that very narrowly and only by a miracle—and by that, I mean Divine intervention), I can understand all of Dickinson’s arguments. A lot of what he said made a lot of sense viewed through the lens of 1776. What Dickinson did, he did out of deeply held principles.
After refusing to sign the Declaration and resigning from the congress, John Dickinson enlisted in the militia and served with the Continental (U.S.) Army. He served faithfully and bravely. In fact, at one point, he refused a commission and served as a lowly private. After the revolution, he continued to serve this nation until the end of his life.
John Adams (1735-1826, Second President of the United States) led the push for independence, and he and Dickinson were bitter and vocal opponents in congress. But when Dickinson refused to sign the Declaration, Adams said of his opponent, “Mr. Dickinson’s alacrity and spirit certainly become his character and sets a fine example.” In other words, he praised his rival. Even though they were political enemies in a cause they both held to be of supreme importance, they respected each other as human beings.
Can we not today learn from Dickinson’s and Adams’s example? We can disagree strongly over issues we think to be of vital importance and still not resort to HATRED and VIOLENCE against those with whom we disagree. Dickins was WRONG, but he was SINCERELY and HONESTLY wrong in his firmly held principles, and he was still an HONORABLE and a BRAVE man.
Mr. Dickinson was a true American patriot. May we learn from his example. And that of his adversary, John Adams. To do less, would be unamerican.
July 3, 2018
MTC Tour Day 16: Consecration
July 3nd, Salt Lake City, UT
Home again, home again…
Not much to say about the travel itself, but I do have a few parting words about my last tour with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
It has been my great and humbling privilege to sing with the Choir on this tour. I learned a lot of lessons about obedience and humility. I learned more lessons about enduring pain, and sanctifying pain as an offering to the Lord. I did suffer and endure pain, and weighed against simply singing in the Choir on this tour alone, I’m not certain it would have been worth it. But as an offering to the Lord, I am grateful that I was able to sacrifice in the service of my Savior.
As we sang “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,” “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” and, especially last night, “Come. Come, Ye Saints,” I reflected and wept in gratitude and wonder at the limitless grace of my Lord, Jesus Christ.
I am grateful that my wonderful, lovely Cindy is here, with me. She is the most tangible evidence of the perfect love of my Savior. She had to put up with a lot from me on this tour. And I am humbled that she did put up with me.
My knee surgery is scheduled. Relief from my pain is coming, but the road has been difficult. But I don’t count the cost, because I was allowed to sing on tour once more with the Lord’s Choir. There are many choirs that belong to the Lord. I am humbly and eternally grateful to have been a part of this choir for the past eleven years. So very few get to have this privilege, and I am very much aware that it is NOT because I am more talented or more deserving than others. I am not. I am just very, very blessed—and undeservedly so.
And my pain is nothing compared to what my Savior has suffered for me.
And so, for every moment I am privileged to participate with this Choir, I will continue to work very hard, to memorize every piece of music, to sing every note as perfectly in-tune as I possibly can, to strive to improve—right to the end of the last performance. Because, no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I work, no matter how difficult it might be, I will never DESERVE this calling, I will never be ENTITLED to this calling. I will simply be humbly grateful.
At the end of this tour, I recognize that so many people put in so much work—many of them with very little recognition—who made this marvelous experience possible. Simply saying, “Thank you,” is not enough, but I say it anyway. Thank you.
Oh, and I got some great writing done on “The Arawn Option”.
On the airplane home, we sat in front of Elder and Sister Pingree. He said to me, “The level of consecration shown by the Choir is impressive.”
That’s what this tour was to me—consecration.
MTC Tour Day 15: Prettier Than my Favorite Quarterback, and Disgusting Forks
July 2nd, Seattle, WA
What? No SEAHAWK for guest conductor? Didn’t the Choir leadership read my blog post? Don’t they listen to me?
Well, apparently not.
We had the Washington Secretary of State. And she was a lot of fun. (And she was a lot prettier than Russell Wilson…)
Great concert, and my last tour concert ever.
Tonight, I sat next to the timpani. I actually learned a lot about that amazing instrument. For example, I had no idea you can cover two octaves with those four drums, because you can change pitch on the fly!
I also learned that the puddle underneath a tuba or trombone is CONDENSATION, not spit. (You see, spit comes out in long strings. So you can tell the difference. But yes, it does come out of those brass horns…)
Before the concert, Cindy and I went down the waterfront in Seattle. We did some shopping and had lunch. But that’s really all the time we had to sightsee in Seattle.
When they fed us dinner at the venue (between the rehearsal/sound-check and the actual concert), we got to the end of the food line. There were forks and knives and napkins. And a little sign that said, “All these items are compostable.” Yep, our forks and knives were bio-degradable. Just stew on that for a minute. You see, Seattle just passed a law OUTLAWING plastic utensils and straws. So now you get to put compostable forks and spoons in your mouth. Yeah.
Tomorrow, we fly home.
July 2, 2018
MTC Tour Day 14: An Awesome Bus Driver Who Drove us By the Cedar Stump
July 1st, Seattle, WA
Another travel day, with the added twist of crossing the border back into the good, ol’ U.S. of A. On CANADA DAY, no less!
It was supposed to be less than a three-hour bus ride. (A three-hour tour. A three-hour tour. The weather started getting rough… Actually, the weather was GREAT.) We got to the border station, and of course, we all had to get off the bus and go through customs and immigration. The customs and immigration portion was QUICK. No problems. The line for the bathroom after we got through ICE was… longer. And I DID notice that the ladies’ line moved much more quickly than the men’s. (They were timing themselves. No, literally. I’m not kidding.) But soon we were on our way.
Suddenly, however, traffic started to slow. (The tiny ship was tossed. If not for courage of the fearless crew…) Our AWESOME bus driver quickly figured out that we needed to take an alternate route. We found ourselves travelling down skinny back roads. (We passed a restaurant called “The Cedar Stump” which had a sign which read, “Rest your rump at the Cedar Stump!”) We traveled back roads for an hour, some of it in stop-and-go traffic.
The entire delay was caused by a fatal highway accident. At one point, I saw a car inverted on the interstate, and Cindy saw a car inverted on the grass median. We later learned that an “impaired” driver was driving north in the southbound lanes (our lanes).
The final result (which for us, thankfully, did not include a fatality) was that we got to our lovely hotel in downtown Seattle an hour late. HOWEVER, our bus started out third (3 out of 11 busses). We arrived FIRST. The other busses were delayed by up to three hours.
Bottom line? Our bus driver was AWESOME!!!!
Tomorrow, we have a few hours to sightsee, and then we have our final concert. Personally, I’m PRAYING for a SEAHAWK to be our guest conductor. Russell Wilson! Pete Carroll! Come on! It would be totally awesome! Besides, I want to make my son, Jacob (who doesn’t WANT to join the Choir), insanely jealous!!!
BTW, our welcome dinner (our last meal together on tour) was fantastic. It had pork with Walla-Walla Sweet Onions! (And yeah, the meal was delayed for a bit, so everyone could get there and eat it…)
My last tour is coming to an end. One more full day and one more concert. And then it’s home on Tuesday, and I no longer get Cindy all to myself… Talk about depressing…
