Heroz is a tale of a fictional village, of fictional characters facing problems common to the daily grind of work. Throughout the book, the people working in the arrow factory strive to determine and achieve the goal of the business, to make money and provide the knights charged with slaying the dragons, the quality arrows they need. Throughout the book, the factory workers and management personnel learn to work together, to enhance teamwork and motivation, and experience the enhanced ZAPP! gained by working together.
Heroz is a breeze to read, easy to identify with, especially if you experience the fog that rolls in the workplace at the beginning of the day, and lifts completely only after the last person has gone home. It's entertaining and humorous. You'll learn spells to use in all different situations, and upon completion of the book, will have them all compiled in the "Zapp! Wizard's Spell Book", conveniently tucked in at the conclusion of the novel.
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By Michael J. Vaughn, Staff Writer
Northern California lost a great and provocative voice this summer when Santa Cruz poet Greg Keith succumbed to cancer. And I use "voice" both figuratively and literally; Keith was one of those poets whose words lived behind the microphone as well as on the page (ask anyone who's heard his famed railroad poem, backed by a mesmerizing, rail-clacking vocal inflection).
Keith's farewell gift is "Life Near 310 Kelvin," a collection of poems and essays from Berkeley's SLG Books that comes either alone or with a CD of readings by the poet.
The overwhelming attraction of Keith's work was his great love of science, and his ability to nudge its often-ponderous weight through the revolving door of poetry. Though he spent his last 18 years as a computer programmer, his preoccupation was clearly physics, and he had an incomparable knack for turning the faceless beings of subatomic theory into a vivid cartoon show of characters.
A fine example is "The Age of Light," in which the poet mourns the loss of one of his favorite notions, the nearly unfathomable distances traveled by stellar light before they reach earthling eyes, "...long trains of photons / coming on through the night, the future on its way / like fast freight across an interstellar prairie."
It seems the old theory has been replaced by a new one, "resonant scattering," in which the photons of that original starlight steadily give way to new photons which they meet up with in deep space. "...in the space of two light years these lonesome photons / meet someone, some lone electron in all probability / somewhere specific around a proton. The electron, excited / by a packet in the mail, leaps to embrace / the possibility of light, only to extinguish it / in its own unstable enthusiasm." The embrace produces a new photon, which continues on the old photon's path.
The poet finds this new view depressing, but two friends quickly change his mind, convincing him that the process is actually "the birth of new information." "I like that," says a guy in a bar. "Me too," says the poet. "The eye that big. Light that fresh. News that current."
Keith was certainly not limited to science. He showed the same observational acuity and humor in matters of the heart. "310 Kelvin" contains several tributes to his last love, Susan, whom he married a few months before his departure. Typical among poets, however, I derive more morose pleasure from Keith's more lonesome ventures. A fine example is "SWM," a personal ad ten miles deeper than any you'll read in the paper, a wish-list of amusing second-person generalities regarding the hoped-for companion. "You will have currents of your own," he writes, "nothing to do with me. / You will have spent some non-zero number of Christmases / alone." He concludes with an arresting, hopeful plea: "Meet me in the world. Wear that smile and those eyes."
Then there are poems in which the romantic and cerebral meet, like "Last Words," a trio of seemingly dry multisyllabic words he leaves on his ladylove's cubicle. "Callipygia" describes "...the condition you exhibit when you walk, / the sketch made in space by high tonus and articulate bones." "Gynephanic" is "...conducive to epiphanies of womanshine, / the stark, resonant reflection in the terminal glass / of you going by my door. This is not your fault. These / are my own bells swinging in the little wind of your passage." "Pneumoparoxysmic" means simply "...breathtaking / in its most sudden, poignant sense."
...; a novel from Soho Press (New York 1995>.
The power in these poems comes from an understanding both simple and complex: Keith knew that poems ought to be interesting; that they ought to tell us something we don't know or something we didn't know we knew, or both. They surprise and often delight us. We sense that they surprised and delighted him, too.
There's such willingness, an eagerness, to look things in the face. In "radiology," Keith, strapped into poisition for the X-ray machine, waits to find out the verdict. "No other place to go, no other thing to be," he tells himself with heartbreaking bravery.
There are other treasures in this collection--"Radical Equality" (the ending is truly wonderful), "Another Note to the Young," the lyrical "Journalism: Biological Constraints on the Spirit," the quietly humorous "SWM." Actually, I like nearly all of them. I was interested in the stories at the end of the book, but I confess that I left my heart in the poems. I wish there could have been more. --Charlotte Muse, excerpted from THE MONTSERRAT REVIEW, Fall 1998
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Buy this one if you have any serious or casual interest in the subject; the others pale in comparison.
The vivid photography really brings Lowe's instruction to life. This book is one of the best climbing reads out there.
The poetry and beauty of Jeff Conine's words sing lyrically in the background, haunting and tragic...but none the less genuine.
Last Autumn is the kind of book that begs a good stiff bourbon on a rainy night, cutting and burning its way to inner warmth...don't expect "Love Story."
The book could be considered as a guide toward offering sick loved ones our healing presence. This guidance is valid for anyone relating to someone who is sick and is just as helpful to doctors, nurses and counselors as it is to family members and anyone who has a loved one who is sick.
A quote from page three says "This book will guide you toward offering sick loved ones your healing presence. By learning to ask them exactly how they're suffering and help them express their feelings thoroughly, you'll encourage an atmosphere of honesty. You'll move toward a perspective in which whatever happens physically, the emotional turmoil surrounding it will settle. All involved will benefit from increasing serenity."
I found especially helpful Jeff's discussion of how sick people suffer. He talks about really listening to their suffering and hearing their fears, anxieties, confusion, depression and rages. He says "I learned that people get emotional when they're sick and that fear and anger and despair aren't abnormal; they're a natural feature of sickness. In fact, I'd worry about the mental health of sick people who weren't affected by their consequent feelings. Hearing many hundreds of stories, I gradually learned that people don't generally suffer from their disease as much as from their emotions, the reactions their disease ignites in them." (page seven)
The rest of the chapters in the book are just as juicy and relevant as the above examples. In "Speaking With TLC", Jeff encourages speaking (only after much listening) with truth, leanness and compassion. He gives examples and practical questions to ask ourselves to pass the "TLC" test.
My two favorite chapters are "Welcoming Mystery" and "Healing Yourself". The first deals with the existential questions that illness can stir and the second with "continual" self care. What profound encouragement both offer for living in this world.
I truly enjoyed reading this book (and have read several sections more than once). The wonderful stories of courage and healing inspired me to be a better listener, a better friend and even a better person. Thank you Jeff.