Writing about my favorite season, Winter, inspired me to put a poll up so you can tell me what your favorite season is. Vote now you Sun worshipers, you foliage seekers, you Spring chickens, cause Old Man Winter (Me) already cast the first vote for Winter! ;-) - Sean

My Brother and I had a great camping trip. Well, I did. He had trouble falling asleep Friday night because I was snoring. He said he couldn't fall asleep for an hour and a half. Apparently I snore kinda loud. Then, around 2:00am, my Nephew woke up crying because he was cold. Combine those two conditions, and add it all up, and you see that my Brother probably slept no more than 3 hours on Friday night. Not getting enough sleep is tough anytime, but it is especially tough when you are camping. I felt bad for him. I know what it is like to run on little sleep. Saturday morning we awoke to typical Missouri spring weather. Nice and cold. Since he didn't get much sleep I offered to get up and re-kindle the fire while my Brother and Nephew stayed in the warm tent. It took longer than usual for the fire to catch so I spent a lot of time huddling next to the smoking embers trying to get warm. It was bliss. You see, I like camping in cold weather. It suits me better than Summer camping. Actually, I like Winter better than Summer period. For me it doesn't get much better than a snowy Winter's night. You all can have the heat, humidity and bugs of Summer, just let me have my cold snowy Winters. Mmmmm. :-) Late Saturday morning we walked around in the surrounding hills a little bit. Not too much as my Nephew is too small to do much serious hiking. After returning to camp, and eating lunch, the clouds rolled in bringing with them a cold wind and the threat of rain. We started packing up camp quickly hoping to get everything in the car before the rain started. For those of you who don't know, camping in the rain isn't that bad while you are at the campsite. Typically I bring tarps and poles that I set up to keep everyone dry as we sit around the fire. You don't feel the pain of camping in the rain until you get home. Why? Because you have to set everything back up again to dry it out or else you get smelly mildew. Yuck! So when you camp in the rain you actually set up and tear down twice, once for the camping trip, and once again at home to dry it all out. Packing up before the rain comes alleviates a lot of aggravation when you get home.

My Brother and I decided to take advantage of the nice spring weather and go camping this weekend. ;-) Consequently I won't be able to post again until Sunday, or maybe Monday. Enjoy The Father Part 2 and be sure to leave a comment, or send me an email, telling me what you think. By the way, did you notice the Poll about Sarah? - Sean

Images of Susan raced through Frank's mind. He could see her at the beach, calling for him to join her as she danced in the surf. Then, in an instant, she was sitting on their living room sofa, reading a book by the fire. Next he saw her in the yard, kneeling down in her flower bed, pruning her roses. Frank lay on his back, eyes open, wishing he could stop the images and go to sleep. He looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table, 2:00am. He rolled over on his side and looked at Susan's pillow. He could feel the empty space in the bed. It was pulling at him, pulling at his soul. The emptiness was pulling his soul into an abyss. He thought about letting the abyss consume him. He wondered if he would feel any pain. "He was tired of pain" he thought, "tired of fighting". He sighed, and stared, and thought. He thought about Sarah. He saw her face smiling in the afternoon sun. When she laughed she looked and sounded just like Susan. "What would happen to Sarah?" he thought. He sighed again, and rolled over to face the bedside table, turning his back on the abyss. He didn't notice when he fell asleep.

I wrote all of Part 2 of the father, then re-wrote it, then threw it all out and started from scratch. :-( The third iteration is looking much better. I am just frustrated that I had to throw away the drafts that I worked so hard on. More than ever this quote applies.

I turn sentences around. That's my life. I write a sentence and then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another sentence. Then I have tea and turn the new sentence around. Then I read the two sentences over and turn them both around. Then I lie down on my sofa and think. Then I get up and throw them out and start from the beginning. - Philip Yancey from "The Ghost Writer"

Philip Yancey you speak the truth! - Sean

Tom has finished part two of his series The Tree House on his blog In Continuous Pursuit. Terna makes an appearance in The Tree House - 02, along with some new characters. The plot is thickening folks, better head on over and check it out! Leave a comment with your impressions on The Tree House - 02. I know he wants to improve his writing skills, and to do so he needs feedback just like I do. :-) Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I am working on the next installment of The Father. I believe there will be three parts in total. I have the rough draft of part two written, I am now in the editing phase, and part three is outlined and ready for it's first draft. Be patient with me. I can only write in the evenings and my time is somewhat limited this week. - Sean

I am testing my new YouTube video plugin for Wordpress in the best way I know how. The song Hero by Nickelback was originally written for the movie Spiderman. Someone on YouTube decided Hero better suited the movie The Passion of The Christ than Spiderman so they cut together a sequence from The Passion of The Christ using Hero as the soundtrack. It is quite moving. (See Below) - Sean

I am continuously amazed at how many different responses I get from my writing. In the three essays I have written so far I listen to others talk about the characters, the locations, the clothes and the attitudes of the characters in ways I never intended when I wrote the piece. Often when someone is telling me about my own story, and I get to see the story through their eyes, I realize that what I envisioned in my head, and what the reader took away, are two different visions, and yet the story is still conveyed in the spirit in which I intended. With The Father series I have had people describe Frank as charming, down to earth, blue collar, white collar, quiet, talkative...the list goes on. I have even had people tell me what clothes he was wearing. The funny thing is I never described the clothes Frank wears, other than the leather gloves in the flashback scene. How is this happening? I think I know the answer. My stories create a framework for the reader to apply their own history and influence. In turn this makes the story more real to the reader. If I were to describe every little detail in every scene there would be no doubt about the vision in my head, but the scene would be long and dull. By leaving certain descriptions out I am relying on the reader to provide some of the descriptive information on their own. This makes for a more compelling story because it allows the reader to have a personal interest in the story. This is an incredible discovery. I love hearing how others view the characters and scenes I write. It opens my eyes to other possibilities for my characters and plot lines. Keep the feedback coming! I love every bit of it! - Sean

The Message

The most important thing to remember when reading The Sacrifice is that Jesus took on this suffering for you. He didn't have to do it, and, as his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane suggests, he was extremely anxious about it, but he did go through it. Why? To atone for our sins with the only payment God would accept, blood. Jesus' death on the cross was the payment for all of the sins in the world. So the next time you sin, and you know when you sin, remember that your sin, along with mine, is what held Jesus on the cross. Jesus was crucified on a Friday. The following Sunday Jesus rose from the dead and, over the next weeks, appeared to many, including his disciples. This is what proves to us that he is the Son of God and that he is alive and at the right hand of his Father in Heaven. This whole story is irrelevant if we forget that he is alive and well with his father in heaven.

The Names

I did a little bit of research on Roman names for this piece. Unlike American society today, a typical Roman citizen could have many, many names. And depending on how close you were to the person, and what the circumstances were, the name or names you called each other varied. Sometimes you would use the full title, but mostly you would use a two name combo, like Antonius Novellus, or something like that. Only when you knew the person well, like if you served with him in the military, would you use the first name only. The first name in Roman culture was actually said last. So if we lived in Roman times you would call me Darius Seanius, instead of Sean Dare. The last name, our first name, was called the cognomina. Your cognomina was chosen by others in your community or was handed down from generation to generation. Each cognomina means something different. Cato for example means "shrewd" or "cunning". Bucco means "fool" or "dolt". Dentatus means "toothy" or "with a lot of teeth". Bestia means "like an animal" and Aculeo means "prickly" or "unfriendly". I chose these names to reflect their characters, much like the Roman's would have done. If you would like to learn more about Roman names check out NovaRoma.

The Point of View

I wanted to tell the story of how much Jesus suffered for us, but needed an interesting point of view to convey the whole thing. The only character I could come up with that could see the entire process was a Roman soldier. I didn't research the Roman military in depth, so I am sure I got a lot of the details wrong, but I think the story has enough truth to remain compelling. I also wasn't sure about the time line of the events. After reading all four of the Disciples accounts I decided on the current course. If I am wrong on the time line then I am wrong, but please don't let it distract you from the message, that Jesus endured great suffering to pay for our sins. I chose the first person point of view because the story just kept going back to that. I would try to write in the third person and before the paragraph was finished I would be back in the first person again. Cato, by the way, is patterned after my Brother, and Bestia is patterned after a guy I knew in college. I didn't have anyone specific in mind for any of the other characters, except Jesus of course. Please tell me what you think of The Sacrifice in either the comments or via email. - Sean

Part 1

I pour the water on the floor and set the bucket down to the side. Bending over I pick up the long handled brush and start scrubbing the dried blood from between the large flat stones. Bucco notices me and calls to me saying, "Hey Cato! Why are you doing woman's work?" He turns to the group of soldiers standing behind him, smiling at their laughter. I stop and lean against the long handle. "Bucco, if you didn't soil yourself every time a man comes in here I wouldn't have to!" This brings an even greater reaction from the crowd. Bucco's eyes grow dark as he tries to think of an adequate reply. I turn my back on the group and begin scrubbing again. I don't care that much that the floor is clean. It's just that the smell of dung, urine and blood seems to attack my stomach. It makes me nauseous. I like to get rid of the smell after the last victim of the day so I can eat my lunch without vomiting. I hear the hinges of the large wooden door as it opens. I stop scrubbing and look up to see a Centurion guard detail enter the room with another prisoner. Glancing quickly around I notice everyone is looking. Some of the guys are even standing on tiptoe to get a better look over the heads of their companions. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Captain Aculeo stand up from his desk. I follow him with my eyes as He walks over to the Centurion at the head of the procession. You can see they are discussing the prisoner, The Centurion is pointing at a written order in his hand while Captain Aculeo nods. After a few minutes Captain Aculeo takes the paper and walks over to his desk. Without sitting down he hunches over the desk to sign the paper with a quill. He then makes a note in the prisoner log. When he finishes he motions for me to follow him, and walks back to the Centurion.