Grief, and Nothing More’s Song “Fade In, Fade Out”

Folks, most of you know if you’ve followed my blog for any length of time that I am grieving my father’s passing last October at the age of eighty-six. Because of that, and because I am a musician anyway (always will be), I have been listening to songs differently.

One such song is Nothing More’s “Fade In, Fade Out.” (Link to main YouTube video is here.) It discusses, explicitly, the link between fathers and sons, so it’s not too much of a stretch to consider this dialogue from a father to a daughter as well.

“But why this song,” you ask? “And who is Nothing More?”

First, I’ll answer the second question. Nothing More is a rock group from the American Southwest. They skew more toward metal than anything, but they have various influences on their music. Their lead singer, Jonny Hawkins, started as their drummer/percussionist, but realized he needed to front the band instead. Their music has a lot of life, and speaks to many different emotions and states of being.

As to why this particular song? Because of some of the lyrics, combined with the power of the music, just speak to me in a way that I can’t quite understand, except by listening to this song, crying somewhat, and then listening to it again.

The song starts out with a grown son realizing his father has grown old. They speak, almost as if it’s their final conversation; the son listens as his father says (from lyrics):

Son, I have watched you fade in
You will watch me fade out
I have watched you fade in
You will watch me fade out
When the grip leaves my hand
I know you won’t let me down

The father continues, telling his son to follow his heart, to never settle, to hold his head up, and to never run away from change. (If you look at the lyrics, which I found here, you’ll realize I’m telling this out of order. That’s OK. This is how it speaks to me.)

These next lyrics are essential to understanding “Fade In, Fade Out,” as far as I’m concerned:

(From a bit later in song)

When the morning comes and takes me
I promise I have taught you everything that you need
In the night you’ll dream of so many things
But find the ones that bring you life and you’ll find me

That’s where you’ll find me (repeated several times until the end)

The song ends on a huge crescendo, as another child is born, this to the son.**

To my mind, though, what matters most is the line about “find the (things) that bring you life, and you’ll find me.” The reason this matters so much to me is, the passions I, myself, have, are partly because of the passions my parents had. Dad loved music; so does my mother. Both of my parents were inveterate readers (and Mom still is); so am I, though I read some different things than they did (and Mom still does). The learning I took in, regarding morality and ethics and what’s truly important in life, I also took in from family influences.

So, the things that bring me life are music, words, and important relationships with friends and family. (My friends are my family, too. Just in a slightly different way. But I digress.)

Anyway, symbolically in this song, the son ends up with a child. I have no children, unless you count the workings of my mind and heart, as Michael and I were not blessed with any. (He was worth everything, though, and still is. You’ll know this if you read my blog for any length of time.) But overall, the point still matters: the oldest among us die, to make way for the new, but there is continuity between one generation and another.

In that sense, my father’s mother (who died when he was only eleven) has lived on, through him. In that sense, my maternal grandfather, who died when I was seven, has lived on, too (among others). Even though they couldn’t teach us directly, they did teach and impart values and such to my father and mother, who passed them on to me and my sibs.

So, in the parlance of “Fade in, Fade Out,” Dad watched me as I grew older (thus, faded in). He grew old and passed away (thus, faded out). But I haven’t forgotten what he taught me, the good, the bad, and the indifferent…and I never will.

What songs have mattered to you most, especially when you’ve been grieving? (All of us grieve something, mind you. That’s the parable Gautama Buddha gave, in a perhaps apocryphal story, when he sent a woman looking for someone without grief around the world. She couldn’t find anyone.) Tell me about ’em in the comments…and hey, if there are any other Nothing More fans out there, chime in, too. (That group deserves wider fame, methinks.)

———

**There’s an acoustic version of “Fade In, Fade Out” available here that’s also well worth listening to…then again, anything Nothing More does is worth it, and I can say that about very few bands. (Disturbed, Nothing More, Linkin Park…that’s about it. I’d add a few earlier bands and singers to that, such as Phil Collins with and without Genesis, and Styx with Dennis DeYoung.)

Language, Editing, and THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

Folks, my most recently edited book is Chris Nuttall and Leo Champion’s THUNDER AND LIGHTNING, about first contact with aliens gone spectacularly wrong. I was very happy with this book, because I thought it showcased Chris’s gift for political machinations of the interplanetary sort plus Leo’s gift for the nuts and bolts of warfare. Putting them together in one book was a worthwhile challenge for me as an editor, and one I welcomed.

Both of these men did what they did best, and did it superbly. And I was not disappointed.

But, you must be sitting there asking yourselves, “Barb, what is this about language? Why are you talking about that with regards to editing and THUNDER AND LIGHTNING?”

Some of what I’m going to say is blindingly obvious, but here goes: When you’re writing about soldiers, you cannot take the high road all the time. And you certainly can’t use what I derisively call “sparkly language,” in that you dumb-down what soldiers say during a war.

Chris and Leo’s soldiers start off in a nasty fight in Africa against terrorists they call “the Wreckers.” These Wreckers are abysmal human beings who, like others in the past, have corrupted a holy book — in this case, the Koran — for their own purposes. The soldiers call them “radical Islamicists,” which is not that dissimilar to what is said overseas now in the Middle East or in other war zones.

And there’s a reason they do this. The reason is very simple. They are fighting a war. They cannot afford to see these people as worthy of redemption, for the most part, and they have many reasons not to see them that way either as the behavior of the Wreckers is truly abhorrent. (Hell, they even take female slaves.)

So, when I saw that, as an editor, I left it alone. I’ve heard from my own cousin, who’s served overseas any number of times in the Middle East as a member of the Armed Services, that what’s said about those we’re fighting (ISIS now, Al Qaeda earlier) is far worse than that.

But will some people be offended by this term? Probably.**

My job, though, as an editor, is not to dumb down what anyone says or feels even if I think it’s something someone out there will dislike. My job is to make that soldier sound and feel real. So you can get caught up in the story. And keep going.

If that soldier says some things you don’t like, well…I urge you to read James Clavell’s KING RAT. There’s lots of stuff that’s not said in “sparkly language,” but if it were, you’d never buy into it.

And you shouldn’t.

Anyway, THUNDER AND LIGHTNING isn’t just about soldiers. It’s about an idealistic woman scientist, Samra, who first finds evidence of aliens we later come to know as Oghaldzon (kind of like three-legged deer), and believes that any aliens coming must be peaceful. (She’s wrong, but you can see why she’d believe otherwise.) And what happens when she finds out the Oghaldzon are almost completely incomprehensible to humans, and humans to the Oghaldzon in terms, is scary, difficult to read, and sometimes incredibly sad, in turns.

We see her in lighter days, when she’s just a scientist at work. We see her finding the aliens’ signal (a fleet) in space, the scientific high point of her career.

And then, we see her disastrous fall, and with her fall, the attempted subjugation of Earth.

We also see a cyborg commando soldier, who saves Samra and stays by her side as they try, somehow, to stay alive and hope for better days. (Perhaps the commando is hedging his bets. Or waiting for a better opportunity. But it’s important to know that without him being there, Samra likely wouldn’t have a reason to fight so hard.)

Along the way, we meet numerous others. Some are politicians. Some are just average Joes. Some are Rockrats — that is, asteroid miners, extremely isolationist in outlook and incredibly hard-headed, to boot.

We need every last one of them to come together, in whatever ways they can, or we cannot save our own solar system from the Oghaldzon.

And along the way, the Oghaldzon are found to be, oddly enough, a different type of idealist entirely. But their idealism doesn’t match ours by any standard, and that is part of why we end up in a protracted war.

I don’t want to spoil the outcome of the book. So I will stop there.

Just know that as an editor, I maximized everything I could for the sake of realism, verisimilitude, and dammit all, for the sake of a damned good read. That is my job.

And if you read the book, and you like the book, do tell Leo and Chris that you enjoyed it. (You can come tell me, too. I’d enjoy that, also.) Reviews matter.

(I know that from personal experience. But I digress.)

In other words, when I edit, I try to find the authors’ voices. And I believe I did exactly what I should, to make THUNDER AND LIGHTNING the best it could be, in the hopes that people would feel, think, and enjoy the book and tell others.

Or in shorter form: Sparkly language, get lost.

—–

**Note that I, myself, have a Koran and have read it many times. My late husband admired the Sufi Muslims, and often called himself a “Zen Sufi Pagan.” And Chris Nuttall himself was exposed to all sorts of different religions when he lived in Malaysia, certainly including Islam, and knows, as I do, that people come in all flavors in all religions: that is, followers of the prophet Mohammad are mainly very good people.

Those who’d chain and enslave women, though, are hardly that. And if they’re using Islam as a way to make that palatable to their (mostly male) believers, that is disgusting.

There are bad apples in any bunch. These Wreckers definitely fit the bill for the type of people who’d try to turn religion to their own ends, rather than live in loving kindness and generosity, as I believe Mohammad truly wanted.

Two New Reviews of My Novel, AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE Are Up…

Folks, Monday was not the world’s best day.

Why? Well, I have a nasty sinus infection. I wasn’t able to concentrate on my editing despite the two exciting projects on my hands right now — both fantasies, but wildly dissimilar.

So if I can’t work on these two books, I know it’s because I’m not feeling well. So I trotted off to the doctor, got some antibiotics, and went home to bed.

(Yeah. It was one of those sorts of days.)

Anyway, I got up after getting some solid rest and found this review by Betsy Lightfoot over at her blog of my novel, AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE. Here’s some of what she has to say:

(Bruno the Elfy) needs to find a way out of the mess he finds himself in, as well as rescuing his mentor, and a young human woman, trying not to get any further into trouble. Along the way, he learns that nearly everything he has learned about the human world, his own world, and even himself, is a lie.

The book is alternately exciting, scary, and funny, with mysteries to be solved, and great evils to be faced and overcome.

..All in all, a satisfying read, and I’m waiting for the second half of the story to come out.

In addition, I had a lovely review from author Chris Nuttall posted at Amazon on Sunday. A bit of his review says:

An Elfy on the Loose dances from one genre to another without pausing for breath and rockets towards a cliffhanger ending.

So there you have it . . . two new reviews of AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE, and both are positive. I’ve gone from having one review to three reviews in a couple of short days. This is progress.

And I’m quite pleased, because you never know just what people think of your work until they say something. (Yes, this despite the four wonderful authors who have stood in my corner for the past several years; you can view their comments at my “What People Are Saying” page.)

Now, as I toddle back off to nurse my nasty sinus infection, I can feel a little better. And I do appreciate that.

———-

BTW, in case you missed my guest blog about why I used parallel universes in AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE, it’s up right now over at the inestimable Stephanie Osborn’s blog, Comet Tales.  Feel free to check it out.