Names, Identity, and Procrastination

As anyone reading this blog is likely to know, I'm an aspiring writer. And I've now settled on a pen name!

For ages, I've been going by David Aarons, which is simply my first and middle names with an S tacked onto the end, but I've always felt like it didn't flow properly. If I'm going to build a brand around a name (and fiction writers definitely need to do exactly that), I need it to roll off the tongue but stick in your head. I have nothing against my birth name of David Aaron Huff, but there's just something about my surname that wouldn't work on the cover of a book, and David Aarons (which I've been using for a long time) feels like a gear grinds up somewhere halfway through.

So I figured I'd add a middle name to that! I've already co-opted my own middle name, made some alterations, and repurposed it as a surname. Putting a spacer in there should do fine. I finally picked one a few days ago, and after some settling into it, it's still working for me, so say hello to David Zaine Aarons.

Sure, it's arbitrary, but I like the sound and look of it. It has a certain weight to it.

Anyway, the main reason for this post is not the announcement of my official pen name, but rather that all of this thought of names has led me to think quite a bit about the nature of names themselves, and how we relate to them.

A name is a definition, sometimes a statement of identity, sometimes of nature, sometimes of both. We use them to keep infinite thoughts and ideas and objects and creatures and people separate from one another and in order in our minds. Sometimes the name reflects the named, and sometimes the opposite happens. But something that fascinates me about all of this is that some names have colors and shapes and ideas associated with them directly, and it's not always possible to know whether those concepts were tethered to those names by language and culture or if they're attached to something deep in the base of our psyches.

Some are clearly cultural, even pop cultural. In the US, at least, if you hear of someone named Thor, you probably expect a large, muscular individual (most likely wielding a hammer) to be behind that name. However, if you're from a Scandinavian country where the name would be a little more common, you may not necessarily have those same preconceptions, despite the fact that the mythology originated closer to home. If you hear the names Nigel or Reginald, just TRY and tell me you don't half expect to see a stereotypical, possibly even anachronistic Brit when you're introduced, because I hear those names and all I think of is this guy:

I love the fact that some names have this kind of information stapled to them. This didn't have anything in particular to do with my motivations for altering my pen name; that decision was a purely aesthetic one. Oddly enough, I find that I already think of myself by that name. When asked my name, my mind defaults to the one I've chosen for myself rather than the one that I've had for almost 22 years. Self-definition trumps Pavlovian conditioning, haha. Some part of me is surprised at that, but to be honest, in a way it makes sense. We all have our own conceptions of ourselves; of who we are and what constitutes our nature and being. Sometimes the names we were given don't quite fit with those ideas. Maybe there's something in our subconscious that is prepared to accept and apply something that is subjectively perceived as being more "us".

In my case, I may have an extra leg up on that, as I've gone through a massive redefinition of personal identity over the last few years. I feel, almost literally, that I am not the same person as I was in high school. As over-dramatic and pretentious as it sounds to say it this way, maybe David Aaron Huff died when he was about 18, and David Zaine Aarons was born in that instant.

Perhaps it's silly to feel like my name should reflect the changes in my beliefs and personality, but it's not the only thing that's changed as I have. One of the reasons I'm so attached to my long hair and goatee is that in my head, they have a sort of personal symbolism. They help to separate me as I am from me as I was. They represent something to me. I suspect most people have something like this; nobody's the same person from adolescence to adulthood, and most of us probably recognize that.

Picking a pen name is good, but it's still a pretty small step. I'm a master of procrastination, and I need to figure out how to turn off the autopilot on that, because I'm not getting as much done as I need to be as far as writing is concerned. I need to discipline myself into steadily working every day, and I'm struggling to implement that new habit into my daily life. It's very easy to keep telling myself that I'll work in a few minutes. There's such a wealth of distractions on all sides; I'm guaranteed to be well-supplied with things to do. So many movies and TV shows to watch, so many books to read, so much music and so many podcasts or radio shows to listen to, so many games to play. It's all too simple to let all of that stimulus crowd out how many stories I have to tell.

Writing is fun, and I love it, but it's a lot of work. I know quite a few people who assume that writing must be a really cushy job, and I suppose it is if you define 'cushy' as 'not involving hefting blocks of raw stone in the hot sun'. But it involves a lot, especially fiction, at least if you intend to go about it properly. Everyone has their methods, but I have to conceptualize and flesh out ideas and painstakingly outline and structure a complete story before I actually go about writing it. I need to know where I'm going and thoroughly understand who I'm traveling with so that I can tell the story the way it needs to be told. As much fun as it is, that's a lot of work, and then once that's finished, I go into the writing process, which is about 1% inspired art and 99% the verbal equivalent of manual labor. It's not at all difficult to look at all that work and the sheer scale of the collected tasks ahead and decide to go watch Doctor Who instead.

Not to mention the fact that something Robert A. Heinlein once said often springs to mind: "The first million words don't count." Odds are good that you'll need to write a million words or so of fiction before you start producing publishable work. I'm not intimidated by the number so much as I simply hate the idea of wasting a perfectly good story. If I'm going to tell the story, I want it to be heard!

But those are walls I know must be torn down. Ass in chair, hands on keyboard, no sidetracking, no procrastination, every day, whether I feel 'inspired' or not. And I can always return to a story and rewrite it later if I feel like it needs to be published. What's important is that I stop putting off the trip and start getting there.

The Mysterious Yonaguni Monument - Artificial or natural?

In 1986, Japanese divers in the Ryukyu islands stumbled...er, swam... across a unique rock formation under the water that appeared to have been carved by some ancient civilization. The massive stone seemed to have been fashioned in a shape reminiscent of the stepped pyramids of Sumeria and Meso-America. In Japan, it was big news. In the United States, nobody talked about it.

In 1995, an even bigger structure like the one from 1986 was found off the coast of a Ryukyu island called Yonaguni. Apparently, it was the most popular news story in Japan for a year. A huge 'platform' of rock was discovered with what appear to be tiered ramparts, streets, and holes for wooden posts. At first, Japanese archeologist Masaaki Kimura thought the natural rock formations were probably a natural phenomena. After diving down himself, however, he changed his mind. Here are photos of what he saw:

In total, eight under-sea sites like this one have been found surrounding Japan.  American scholars have been loathe to address the existence of these stone monuments. If the stones have indeed been altered or the structures built by man, then scholars would be forced to rewrite their idea of human history. Why? It has been estimated that these stone structures have been submerged for 8,000 - 10,000 years. That means that during the stone age, there would have been an advanced civilization in Asia -- 5,000 years before the Egyptian empire! It would bother American historians for something amazing to be true. They are rather attached to their dogmas.

So I've said it. I believe that those shapes are quite evidently the result of the work of human hands. Professor  Robert Schoch of Boston University, who decided to meet with Kimura and make the dives to the monument, has stated that there is no reason to believe they are man-made. I don't know what his reasoning is, but he is supposedly an expert on geology. 

Here is one more piece of evidence that something like the Yonaguni monument exists and is known to be manmade: the Macchu Picchu ruins.

To me, these show how possible it is for Yonaguni to be the remnants of a powerful, ancient civilization. But what do you think? Feel free to comment!

Three Musicians Bryce Couldn't Live Without

The first musician I would like to lend my praise to is Loreena Mckennit. Her incredible skill possesses an intricate duality in its effect: Both the power to break one's heart and the power to mend it. Her lyrics and melodies seem to cry out to us from a forgotten age of the earth, speaking on behalf of our own lost, personal histories. Her voice is...well, I think she somehow must be an angel, because mere mortals just don't sound that beautiful and haunting. Aside from her vocals, she is an impressive instrumentalist. She plays the harp, piano, accordian, penny whistle, bouzouki, and perhaps more.

SUGGESTED LISTENING FROM THIS ARTIST: My favorite albums by McKennit are "The Visit" and "The Mask and the Mirror," though all of them are great. If I were to recommend one song, I would say, "All of her songs." Fine, I'll be fair: check out her masterpiece entitled "The Old Ways." THEN listen to all of her songs.

Another musician I would highly recommend is A Fine Frenzy. The band's  vocalist, pianist, and songwriter, Alison Sudol, creates a powerful realization with her lyrics: That the world is more beautiful and fantastic than it seems at first glance. Many of the words she sings carry a rare positive energy, and her style and presence glorifies the beauty of femininity in song, something which most other pop musicians seem not to know exists; if they do know it exists, they choose not to admit it. I think A Fine Frenzy ought to be displayed as a beacon of righteousness in a world of ugly radio play.

SUGGESTED LISTENING FROM THIS ARTIST: A Fine Frenzy's debut album, One Cell in the Sea, is amazing. I like all of the songs on it, but I often find myself listening and re-listening to "Come On, Come Out." But yeah. They're all good. Familiarize yourself with her now so that you will be prepared for the upcoming release of their third album.

Another musician who is particularly dear to me is a relatively unknown Texan by the name of Doug Burr. He possesses an incredibly unique yet invaluable ability to compose and arrange songs so that the tracks on his albums flow together like one, masterful suite. From beginnin to end, the listener feels he is transported to a realm where notes are the building blocks of a beautifully melancholy world. With a blend of the familiarity of American folk and a transcendience that is all his own, Burr's songs tug at the heart strings and make one happy to be in possession of human emotion, whether they be painful or ecstatic in nature.

SUGGESTED LISTENING FROM THIS ARTIST: Without a doubt, I have to say that you need to listen to Burr's album, "On Promenade," from beginning to end. No skipping around. The album in its entirety is an experience that you shouldn't miss out on. If you want to hear a single, I would recommend "Red, Red" from his album, "O Ye Devastator." Like what you hear? Buy his albums. Help him rise to the stardom he deserves.

I Call it Sharing

Last weekend, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or the Mormons, participated in a very important event. Well, it is important to Mormons. Every April and October, they hold what they call 'General Conference.' General Conference is a time when Mormons all over the world stop and listen to the words of the men they consider to be the apostles and prophets of our day. This conference lasts for two days.

I am a Mormon, and I was able to sit at my friend's house in Idaho and listen to the speakers who shared insights to the worldwide membership of the Church. Although the conference center in Salt Lake City is extremely large, it is not large enough for the 14 million members of the church. And not everyone could make it to Utah, USA, anyway, for there are Mormons in nations all across the earth. Because of these reasons, the Church broadcasts general conference over radio, television, and the internet.

It is amazing to hear the words of an actual prophet on two occasions each year. I say actual prophet because we believe that he is as much a prophet as Moses, Abraham, or Joseph of Egypt. Prophets are men who God chooses to speak His words to the people on the earth, conveying messages that instruct God's children in the ways of Happiness. It is easy to often view God as a scary, angry man who sits in some unknown sphere and punishes the people of the earth. Mormons view Him differently; we know He is a loving and caring being who teaches His children commandments that, if followed, open the windows to let in the light of true happiness. If God punishes us for doing wrong, it is because of His deep concern and His desire for us to turn away from darkness and unhappiness and face the light again.

To many, this sounds ludicrous, and Mormons are mocked on every hand for believing in modern prophets. I have experienced this mockery first-hand. I have been yelled at for my beliefs. A pastor of another faith tried to get me and my Mormon friends thrown in prison merely for being Mormons. An attempt has even been made on my life for being a Mormon. And for all this, I will not back down or deny that I know that the God of this earth loves His children as much today as He did anciently, and so He still speaks to us today. What He says through his prophets today is openly available to all. Here is a short video clip of an apostle speaking at a past general conference meeting:



I openly invite anyone who has questions to either visit our church's website (mormon.org) or to leave a comment on this post. A huge part of our religion is sharing the happiness we have found in our faith. God's words from his prophets are for everyone, and you ought to know them and find the peace and joy that can be yours. I hope you accept this invitation. Some may view this article as an attempt to shove my ideologies down their throats. That's not what I'm trying at all. I am happy, and I know why I am happy. I call my invitation sharing.

Sometimes, Vikings should be real again.

Do you ever spend hours in idol gongoozlement over the sheer stupidity of some folks? Well, if you do, you probably hold a belief similar to one that I harbor within my own heart: that there should be Vikings on the earth again.

Draw from that whatever conclusion you'd like. I think it's self-explanatory.