8: The Nightmare of My Life

9/27/2011

I just woke up from a nightmare. The details aren’t important. They weren’t Batu related. But their metaphorical meaning was clear enough. I began pacing back and forth with a cup of coffee to squeeze every drop of meaning from the dream to see what it was trying to tell me. Essentially, that my life is out of control, that I have things inside me that won’t leave when I want it to, that I’m better off in isolation from the real world, that my mom and dad are no longer home to help me, dialing 911 doesn’t help because I no longer have recourse with the law, and I began to do crazy out of the box desperate things that I knew wouldn’t help me but felt good in the moment.

Then somehow my analysis turned to Batu and the whole narrative’s underbelly opened to me in a way I never let myself see before. Alena was always obviously Alison (my first love when I was 7 years old). Alena was always the first love that is inevitably lost. But now I see that I’ve combined Alison with my sister, having lost her, too. Having made Alena (my sister) the hero of the story, not Mogai (me), it’s only Alena (my sister) who can save the tribe’s way of life (my life).

My sister is the Fa Hawara of my life, the messianic savior. Can she save me through forgiveness? Also, I have created my shadow side through Bakae’s reincarnation, who plays Judas and betrays the tribe (my family). His sentence is death. Mogai goes to his son, to find redemption for him perhaps, but ultimately to claim responsibility and sacrifice himself for the greater good. I’m killing Mogai (myself) to give the tribe (my family) to Alena (my sister). Then she goes off with the tribe to attempt to rebuild and salvage what she can.

Kanunga is not as developed, but he’s obviously my brother – the voice of orthodoxy and critical of Mogai’s wayward path, eventually disowning him. Mogai’s self-destructive obsessive behavior regarding Bakae’s death is my over reaction to losing Jennifer, embracing madness and drama with suicidal flair. Not only planting the seeds of my own demise, but that of my family (the tribe) as well.

The whole thing seems so clear now, it’s hard to believe I never even suspected what I was really writing about. No wonder this Batu project is so important to me. It’s not so much my biography dressed in art, but more like an apology for my life wrapped up in a death wish.

I’m more messed up than I thought. I’m in a no-win situation. One of my own devising, created by my own drama. As I always do. Life has given me every advantage as a birthright: middle class, white, male, U.S. citizen, loving family with no abuse of any kind, not too smart and not too dumb, not too handsome and not too ugly, healthy, every educational opportunity available to me. I could have been anything I wanted. And I chose this.

This is my life. I made it, but now I’ve lost control. My culture has judged me unfit for society and will never forgive me for my past. I’ll never again be allowed to be like everyone else. I never wanted to be like other people, and now I’m not allowed to be.

Anyway, who cares?

As far as my Batu work is concerned, I’m not sure how any of this will affect my creativity or story development with the veil over my unconscious mind beginning to lift. I’ve always embraced self-honesty and knowledge, but I hope it doesn’t hinder my creativity. It may be that keeping things in the shadows yields better fruit. We’ll see.

At any rate, there’s always tons more garbage buried within my unconscious for my creativity to play with. The landfill of my life.

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Present-Day Reflection

6/2/2026

I’m not sure how much I trust this interpretation of the nightmare I had way back then. I remember perfectly the feeling of how it all made sense at the time, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. Our brains are pattern recognition and problem solving devices, and they’re good at creating or exaggerating patterns from random noise, or creating and exaggerating problems just to have something to do. Dreams too can be like a Rorschach test, where your interpretations often say more about how your subconscious mind is working than your how your unconscious mind is.

Nevertheless, the interpretation I went with had power, and no doubt shaped the development of my work after that to a certain degree. I’ve long since made peace with most of my family demons from back then though and have replaced them with more relevant ones from my current life’s dramas.

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7: Questions to Resolve in Alodia

9/25/2011

I’m working on the plotting for the last leg of Tapu’s quest in Alodia, and now that his story comes to a head, I’ve discovered a hornet’s nest of unanswered questions needing resolutions. How does Tapu lose the Amaranth flower? Where is the pool in which his pride seduces him into bating and how does he come to it? Why does Amadou battle the serpent (Gao?) each night? Which leads me to an obvious question that I never considered very deeply before – how does Jukun travel the underworld during the day? What animal form does she take, and why/how? Traveling Alodia as the moon is silly. Jumara doesn’t do it as the sun, so what is Damara’s and Jukun’s animal form? Can’t be Nok the owl, for reasons already stated in the text (unable to pass through the falls).

Oh wait… There are other gates to Alodia, and 2 of the 4 don’t involve water. The bridge or the tree. The tree. Yes, if Nok comes by way of the Omari, this would explain as well why Amadou and Gao fight each night. Amadou is attempting to head off Nok’s descent from the tree, but Gao won’t let hum up. Tapu sneaks up the tree as they fight.

Aside from the fact that owls don’t climb trees, it works. She may fly through its branches though, following it down. Doesn’t explain the transformation from Jukun to Nok though in the nice way that Amadou’s transformations are explained. But I’m on the right path, I think.

Lots of other questions to unravel though. Does Gao toss Amadou into the river of fire to reignite him? If so, how does Tapu tie in with that to be carried out? Lots of clumsy answers present themselves easily enough, but nothing that feels right. And how does he lose the flower? Does it wash away or get destroyed in the water as he bathes? And how does he find this pool of water? While searching for Damu perhaps.

It all seems so contrived. Pieces aren’t fitting together well. I’ll get it. I have faith, unlike Orpheus – whose failing of faithlessness differs from Tapu’s failing of pride and vanity.

Perhaps Tapu meets his Hira again in the pool, seducing him to bathe and lose or destroy the flower.

How does Tapu meet or find Damu? He must find him, even though they are unable to communicate. His failure to retrieve Damu won’t have the necessary impact if we never encounter Damu. Remember. Eurydice was right behind Orpheus all the way back, until his moment of doubt at the end. This is crucial. Proximity – so close, and yet so far.

Which leads me to yet another question: What does Tapu come away with? Orpheus got nothing but his body torn apart so he could join her in death. Dante let Virgil come away with knowledge. Tapu needs to bring something back. Joseph Campbell’s “boon for society”. Fire is an obvious choice since he is returning by the river of fire with burned ears and tail, but this conflicts with a myth I already have for how fire was stolen by Herero from chimps. But maybe the chimpanzees got it from Tapu.

At any rate, Campbell tells us that conflicting mythologies within the same culture is common. Even expected. But still… Tapu’s tale is not Promethean. How does fire relate to the immortality Tapu seeks, or his pride? I suppose I could make it a Garden of Eden scenario – he fails to get the fruit of Life, is cast out before he can, but gets the fruit of knowledge (fire). Or knowledge of his shadow (the Hira). I prefer the parting gift of technology though (fire) and could even have Tapu steal it from Jumara at the last minute. A fitting end that speaks to Tapu’s character – stealing from Jumara (Amadou) after everything he’s done for him as his guide.

Maybe. Lots of maybes. I need more answers before I make these other decisions. I think I’ll go pace back and forth for a while and try to unravel this mess. Writing this entry has already demonstrated the value in keeping a journal. It’s helped. Focused my thought for a moment.

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Present-Day Reflection

6/1/2026

I miss this process of discovery. I’ve been so caught up with the editing of Wings of Providence and the building of this author’s website lately that I’m out of touch with the fun of initial creation. I’m doing what I need to do now, but rereading this entry from over 15 years ago reminds me of what I have to look forward to when I get back to working on the third book.

I always work from a map of where I think I want to go, but narratives and my characters have minds of their own and I love seeing where they lead me as we stray off the beaten path. It’s always the surprises and crazy twists along the way that makes it worthwhile. Fiction is a living, breathing thing, and keeping the material fresh and unexpected for me should translate for the reader as well. If I don’t see something coming, hopefully the reader won’t either.

As for Tapu and The Song of Alodia, I’m also reminded that I have yet to type that up. Everything is still in its long-hand form. I will try and get those pages digitized and posted to this website over the next couple of days. My work with the Batu is still like an iceberg, where only 10% is visible at any given time, while the rest remains a mass of paperwork waiting to be uploaded as content to the digital ocean of the internet.

All of my work was initially done by hand, including these journals I’m transcribing now to post here day by day. Computers are necessary in getting my work out into the world, but they’ve had no part in the initial creative process whatsoever. Not one jot of research came from a computer or the internet. I’ve done it all the old-fashioned way, writing with pen and paper, and researching through books and libraries. I’m a latecomer to the advantages of technology and the information age of A.I. and the internet, but the needs of publication is catching me up with it all now.

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6: The Vodun & Taking Stock

9/24/2011

Just finished my stylized pen drawing of Vaal, the 3rd of the Vodun series I’m working on. I won’t do all 40 of the gods, just the 10 primary humanoid personifications. They look okay, but their borders take longer to draw than the gods themselves. This is a good project for me in terms of fleshing out the Vodun, so they’re concrete in my mind, not just ideas and names on a page.

Spent most of the day today collating my mythology notes, assigning the appropriate attributes to each of the 40 Vodun. I’m eager to get back to breaking down the Kanar glyphs, but I need to make sure my mythology is well established first in order to use them with the glyphs.

I’m giving The Song of Alodia a rest for the moment.

I’d really like to synthesize my notes into essays to firmly establish the Batu once and for all. I have a hundred ideas of what they could be, many contradicting, many not quite right. I’d like to settle it. Also, to reduce the number of notes I have. Get rid of what I don’t need. But it’s a huge undertaking, and part of me suspects it’s a way to avoid writing.

I also took stock of where I am today. To date, I’ve done 40 Batu illustrations, with 14 preconceived yet to do. I’ve written 9 myths, 6 fables, 13 of the 40 Kanar breakdowns is done, 28 songs/poems/chants, 330 words in my Kanar lexicon, a Batu timeline, the introduction, most of the 40 Vodun profiles, 24 of the 72 chapters (including prologues and epilogues) have been thoroughly mapped out scene by scene, I have 3 psych profiles for 3 of my characters… Yet, of the 72 chapters that make up all 4 books, I’ve only finished 1 ½ of them.

I’ve previously written up to chapter 7, but I’ve changed so much of that that I started over. I only now have what I’m calling my official first draft. Having already outlined the first 2 books scene by scene, I am confident no major rewrites will occur again. Even so, I admit that I’m a bit ashamed of the early chapters, so I have no excuses. Just scared is all.

I’ll get to it. Soon. I will. No, really. At least, I better.

Thing is though; Batu is much more to me than a story. More than a book.

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Present-Day Reflection

5/31/2026

There I go again, listing off all the things I got done in order to feel better about not working on what I thought I should be working on. Poor guy. I’m much more understanding toward myself these days though. I still rationalize and make my lists of achievements to counter my conscience for not doing what I think I should have been doing instead, but I do it tongue in cheek these days. I realize it’s okay, and that everything I do needs to be done, even if that means sleeping in and not doing a damn thing. I’m much more tolerant of letting everything have its place and trusting that it will all work out in the end.

More or less.

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5: Slow Going in Alodia

9/21/2011

Wow. I actually got 6 pages done today. But it took me over 8 hours! I guess I’m just grateful I found it in me to push it out for so long, though my wrist is sore from writing longhand for so long without rest. I got Tapu past Ombure and to the isle of the dead. I’m almost done. Well, I say “almost”, but I’m probably still 10+ pages away, which could mean 15 hours more. God, this slow pace is maddening. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, well… I could have drawn several pictures in the time it took me to write several hundred words.

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Present-Day Reflection

5/30/2026

The fault of why it was such a torturous process of writing was all mine. I knew very well I was doing it wrong by trying to perfect every sentence and paragraph as I went, but I was stubbornly clinging to that while working my way through Alodia. I knew I should have written rough and steady and to save the diction and poetry for the rewrites, but I just couldn’t let go and move forward until I felt every step along the way was as good as I could make it.

I ignored all the teachings from the masters who came before me, not because I didn’t believe or trust them, but because I was a stubborn perfectionist. I got over this in my art with painting and drawing decades before, allowing myself to be ugly and messy during the initial stages. Following the U-curve, where things start off great at the top of the left stem, slowly sinking into chaos and disaster as I sink down to the bottom of the U, only to work my way back up to the top of the right stem through countless revisions.

It’s a mixture of vanity and insecurity that compels me to look good at every stage of the process, as if the world is sitting on my shoulder judging every move I make. It just took me time to get over that, building confidence to the point of not caring about my internal critic, and trusting that I will work it out in the end.

There’s a time for critical analysis, but that time is not in the first draft. It took me years of working on my Batu to get to where I trusted myself enough to let go and save my perfectionism for the last few passes. I wasn’t there yet though when working my way through The Song of Alodia.

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4: Self-Doubt in Alodia

9/20/2011

4 ½ hours of writing tonight and all I got was 2 pages done. That’s pathetic. Got Tapu down the cliff steps and to the shores of the Waters of Life, and that’s it – 4 ½ hours. A lot of rewriting, and the result is good for a first draft, but at this rate I won’t make my 14-year deadline. I was hoping to get through Ombure tonight, but…

Oh well, any progress beats no progress. I’ve let way too many days go by with no writing at all, so I’ll take my 2 pages and try to be content. I just wish I was a better writer. I know writing fiction isn’t easy (when done well), but it shouldn’t go this slow, should it? Ideas are easy for me, finding the right words and phrasing them is hard. Journal writing and letter writing is easy, it’s all exposition. Story telling is a whole other animal. I haven’t the skill or talent. But I’ll get it done on way or another, so long as I keep chipping away at it. Got to be more consistent, with a minimum of 4 hours a day. Every day.

Yeah, right.

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Present-Day Reflection

5/29/2026

I don’t think anybody has an innate skill or talent for writing. It’s hard to imagine evolution selecting for such a trait. More likely, any semblance of talent for writing fiction is a consequence of selecting for another more immediate trait, like self-confidence or the ability to articulate verbal communication.

At any rate, I have never had any use for the notion of talent. To whatever degree it may or may not exist, it will always be hard work and persistence that wins the race. And writing is a marathon, not a sprint. Talent only gives someone an edge at the beginning stages, where they get a desired result a little faster than others. This advantage gets washed away though rather quickly when you’re talking about things that take years to develop. Like anything of any real value.

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3: Baby Steps Toward Alodia

9/19/2011

1:30AM. Finally got Tapu out the labyrinth and descending to the plain. I want to be fresh for when he and I encounter Ombure, so I’m done for tonight. Barely got one page written tonight though. One small piece at a time is better than no progress at all.

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Present-Day Reflection

5/28/2026

I can’t help but feel sorry for the guy who wrote that entry. He has no idea how much still lies ahead of him. It’s no doubt for the best that he didn’t know. Naive optimism is possibly one of my more useful traits when it comes to writing, which I realize is still in play today. The Thornton Sumner two decades down the road – assuming he’ll still be alive – will be looking back on me now with pity as well. I guess this is a sign of progress, that I’ve got no nostalgia for the younger version of myself, and appreciate what’s behind me without wanting to actually be back within it.

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2: Working Toward Self-Annihilation

9/18/2011

I think I may be creating Batu in order to kill me. It’s cliche to say that my books are my children, but it’s true. And I get the feeling they are not just here to extend my existence by being immortalized through literature, but rather just the opposite – they’re going to supplant me. Wipe my life from existence so completely that it will be as if I never existed.

God, I hope so.

Nothing would make me happier if my work completely eclipses its creator. I could die happy if I believed that. And when I look at my illustrations; when I read some of what I’ve written, but especially when I look ahead to what I have yet to write – I believe.

The work has a certain flavor of life to it that feels as if it were here long before I came along. The Song of Alodia, Jumara, Tapu, Mogai and Alena – all of them are somehow bigger than me. They have weight of archetypes because they were built from archetypes. But they have been redressed and renamed, developing their own traits to the extent that they are perfecting their own archetype bit by bit.

I need to be careful here though, because to boast about one’s children is a thinly veiled boast of oneself. I’m the first to point out my sources though. Nothing comes from nothing. I rearrange what I find in research until it takes on a new shape that appeals to me, which is just a matter of taste. Maybe nobody else will share it. But for myself, and speaking with a father’s pride, sometimes it takes my breath away.

As much as I hate what my life has turned into these past 5-6 years, and however much I may wish to no longer be in this world, to that same extent my work is becoming more wonderful to me.

So, can Batu make up for the failings of my life? Can the work of Mr. Sumner replace me with such power and beauty that I might leave in peace? God, I hope so. For what else am I doing this?

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Present-Day Reflection

5/27/2026

Oh my. The young man writing this entry really is full of himself and his work. Good for him. He’s going to need all the self-assurance he can muster to get through the next 14 years.

In terms of his desire to have himself supplanted by his “children”, I suppose we’re still of the same mind about that. Though I’m in a much better world than I was back then, and my life on the whole these days feels pretty darn good. It’s a lot harder than I ever thought it would be, every detail of every day seeming to challenge me with problem after problem. It exhausts me at times, but the rewards continue to make it all worth while.

Like I said, I’m in a better place now. And yes, the work still takes my breath away.

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1: Genesis - From Isolation to the Building of a New World

9/17/2011

According to my notes, I began my writing of Batu on 6/18/2009 during a period of intense isolation. I believe, however, that the seeds were planted a month or two prior to that, but since the first rough for the first 3 ½ pages of what was then “chapter one” were done on 6/22/2009, it’s safe to assume the actual writing began on 6/18.

This first entry of my Batu Journal will primarily be a catch-up on the principal events of the Batu evolution over the past 2 ¼ years. This seems like a long time, and at first, I questioned the use of starting a book journal at this point, but if I am right, it will still be 10-14 years before I’m done with the manuscripts for all four books, so I’m still at the beginning. In fact, to date, the first draft of the first book is only as far as the prologue and half of chapter one. But this is a gross simplification that ignores not only the amount of research, but also the outlines, illustrations and the development of their mythologies, fables, language, etc.

At any rate, the journal starts here, relatively close to the beginning, and the following is a summary by memory, aided by my notes and the chronology of my bibliography.

The first seed was planted in February of 2009, when I heard a co-worker singing African tribal songs. His name was Kiro, from Sudan, and the Dinka tribe. He had a thick accent, spoke 7 languages, had pitch-black skin, and told powerful stories of growing up in Africa.

Two or three months later I was reading Jack Kornfield’s A Path With Heart, and on page 334 he describes how a tribe in East Africa believes that they are not born with the physical birth, or even conception, but when the mother first has the intention of having a child. The mother sits alone under a tree and listens until she can hear the song of the child that she hopes to conceive. Then she teaches it to the father so they can sing it as they make love. Then she teaches the midwives, so it is sung while being physically born. The whole village learns the song, and it is sung for the rest of her/his life on important occasions, until the last time at his/her death.

Reading that moved me to such an extent that I began playing with the idea of building a tribal culture around that in my mind. No doubt partly fostered by a distaste for my own culture, but also because I recently had read a book by B.F. Skinner called Walden Two (1948), about a utopian society built on behavior learned by operant conditioning, social control achieved by positive reinforcement.

So, my thinking at the time about the possibilities and shortcomings of a utopian society blended simultaneously with this notion of building a tribe with African influences. It was probably a month or so of playing with these ideas before I had the courage to accept Joseph Campbell’s call to adventure by declaring for myself that this project was in fact the beginning of a book.

Story and characters began to develop around the spiritual journey of a man alienated from his utopian society. I’ll have to end the descriptions of Batu’s genesis here and leave them in my notes, because it would take many pages to walk through each step of the last 2 ¼ years of Batu development.

Suffice it to say for now that most of the year from late 2009 to late 2010 was spent on research, illustrations, their language and alphabet, myths and fables, but very little on the actual narrative. By August of 2010 my bibliography was at 95 books, having just finished John Middleton’s Magic, Witchcraft, and Curing.

I then had a great creative spurt from September-November in 2010, where I essentially worked out completely what was at that point my first two books, scene by scene.

Now, a year from that point, my bibliography is 140 books; I just last week finished my poster illustration forThe Song of Alodia, which I began 8 months ago; and am halfway through writing The Song of Alodia, which I started 9 months ago. I have drawn numerous illustrations this past year, revise Kanar(the alphabet) hopefully into its final form, and am about halfway through its detailed analysis, and have rewritten and finished the official first draft of the prologue and ½ of chapter one.

I could go on and on with this catch-up, but what I have here will have to suffice. I’m not entirely sure what the purpose of this journal is beyond a recording for posterity in the unlikelihood I manage to succeed in bringing off my intentions. But I think it is also a vehicle for me to work out ideas and vent into, rather than through my correspondence with family. But whatever the reasons, it’s begun now, and the beginning ends here.

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Present-Day Reflection

5/26/2026

It amuses me to review where my head was, back in September of 2011. Back when I thought 10-14 years would be plenty of time to complete all four books. And surely it would be, even for a slow writer, if writing the main narrative of the novel was all that needed to be done. There’s just so much that goes into world building on the level I’m invested in that, even now, I find it difficult to keep from disappearing down world-building rabbit holes.

I’m just grateful to my younger self for starting this Author’s Journal, despite it being 2 ¼ years after its conception. The journal has been the most important creative problem solving vessel in my arsenal. And it’s incredibly fun to revisit.

I still continue to add entries today, though far less frequently than when I was pushing toward creation. Now, I’m in a stage of pushing toward publication, where my primary problem solving vessel is my computer.

All that being said, I do love seeing how that earlier version of myself continually felt the defensive impulse to justify not getting far with the actual narrative of the story due to the needs of world building. He and I are more alike than not in that regard. The main difference between him and me is that I no longer have any doubt whatsoever about whether or not I’ll “manage to succeed in bringing off my intentions.” On that subject, I have absolute clarity.

This is going to happen, and it’s going to be big.

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