Saint of the Day Online - St Fina
Saint of the day online, Monday, March 12, 2018
St Fina
St Fina the Daughter of Cambio Ciardi and Imperiera was born in San Gimignano in 1238, Her family was declined noble family, she lived all her existence in a humble house located in the historic centre of the famous "city of beautiful towers"
Fina's immense devotion was an example to all the citizens of San Gimignano, who frequently visited her. Visitors were surprised to receive words of encouragement from a desperately ill young girl who was resigned to the will of God. On March 4, 1253, after five years of sickness and pain, her nurses Beldia and Bonaventura were waiting for her to die. Suddenly, Saint Gregory the Great allegedly appeared in Fina's room and predicted that she would die on the 12th of March. Fina died on the predicted date at the age of 15.
Fina was attacked by a sudden complication of diseases. Her head, hands, eyes, feet and internal organs were affected and paralysis supervened. She lost her good looks and became a miserable object. Desiring to be like our Lord on the cross, for six years she lay on a plank in one position, unable to turn or to move. Her mother had to leave her for hours while she went to work or beg, but Fina never complained. Although in terrible pain she always maintained serenity and with her eyes fixed upon the crucifix she kept on repeating,"It is not my wounds but thine, O Christ, that hurt me".
Fresh trouble befell her. Her mother died suddenly and Fina was left utterly destitute. Except for one devoted friend Beldia she was now so neglected that it was clear she could not live long, dependent on the casual attentions of poor neighbors who shrank from contact with her loathsome sores. Someone had told her about St. Gregory the Great and his sufferings, and she had conceived a special veneration for him. She used to pray that he, who was so much tried by disease would intercede with God that she might have patience in her affliction. Eight days before her death as she lay alone and untended, Gregory appeared to her and said, "Dear child on my festival God will give you rest". And it came to pass when her body was removed from the board on which it had rested, the rotten wood was found to be covered with white violets. All the city attended the funeral and many miracles were reported as having been wrought through her intercession. In particular she is said as she lay dead, to have raised her hand and to have clasped and healed the injured arm of her friend Beldia.
Saint Fina is celebrated in San Gimignano on two separated days. Her first feast is on March 12 – the anniversary of her death – which has been a statutory holiday in the town since 1481. The second feast on the first Sunday of August commemorates her stopping two plagues that ravaged the town in 1479 and 1631.
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Leadership: How attuned are you?
Date Released: Fri, 28 October 2011 12:36 +0200
by Professor Reuel Khoza, Visiting Professor at Rhodes Business School.
A leader who is not in tune with the followership soon becomes a leader in limbo, and sooner, rather than later, withers. Attuned leaders, by contrast, adapt, lift their followership as they rise to leadership challenges, endure and lead successfully in context.
Just how do they accomplish this? Several aspects of their leadership ensure that they bridge the dualisms of leader and led, self and community, person and people – I am because you are, you are because we are.
To elucidate the metaphor, attuned leadership rests on the four supporting pillars:
• Being self-attuned based on reflection and introspection
• Being attuned to the followership's deep sense of history, prevailing conditions and a beckoning destiny.
• Being attuned to the needs and aspirations of the followers, and
• Being attuned to the moral imperatives of integrity, probity, humility and a sense of efficacy.
At every step of the way, from self-attainment to the resonant quest for destiny, the leader should be aware of conative feelings as well as cognitive. Mental processes that are present in him or her and in the followers. The English word conative, by the way, came into psychological parlana relatively recently to apply to the aspirational aspects of our human nature. It is drawn from the Latin word "conari" which means to attempt or to strive. It thus implies that leadership is a striving to fulfill the aspirations of the followership. By focusing also on cognition, the leader is both emotionally and intellectually attuned to the followers.
The personal qualities attuned leaders bring to their kind of leadership include:
• Insight: Seeing the world from the followership's vantage point and embracing their world views non-judgmentally, "to walk in their moccasins', so to speak. Attuned leadership is thus as passionate as it is compassionate.
• Inspiration: Engendering a sense of follower self-worth, pride in current status and hopefulness in the future. In the relationship of leader and led, it is vital to strike a balance between reality and potentiality.
• Commitment: Ardently pursuing an agreed course of action but remaining willing to be flexible and respond to changes in the environment or expectations.
• Probity: Assuring the followers that the leader can be held accountable. Probity is the ethical imperative to remain upright and honest in the service of the followership, and behaving in a manner that is beyond reproach.
The attuned leader is a reflective person for whom human relationships are of primary importance; hence empathy and identification with the followership will typify his actions. The attuned leader is also a student of human affairs with a developed sense of the forces at work under the surface. The attuned leader wins trust and maintains it by producing results that are in line with the deep human need of followers. A sense of efficacy in the leader combines confidence in the power to do good with competence to carry desires into effect. Trust can easily be broken by promising too much, or delivering too little.
It is fundamentally important that the leader be a student of human nature and of human reality. You cannot have an ignorant leader who has gone through no process of leadership development and who is grossly incapable of sensing the aspirations of the followership. Demagogues may dominate through sheer force of will but this does not qualify as leadership in the normative sense. Both sensitivity and good sense are required if one is to be a principled leader.
No leader can be all-knowing and all-seeing all the time. To lead, a person has to depend on the hearts and minds, eyes and ears, of others, and be capable of dealing with complexity in an intellectually and emotionally intelligent manner. The leader needs both sense and sensitivity. To use the language of psychology, it is up to the leadership to sense intuitively (conatively) and grasp intellectually (cognitively) the yearnings of followers.
It is the expectations and perceptions of the followership that set out the path of leadership, but without sense and sensitivity the leader cannot respond appropriately – nor can the leader act confidently as a pioneer, taking the unexpected route with poise and assurance, the route no-one expected him to follow, but the route that nonetheless is the one that will carry the followership to their hoped-for goals. Leaders, by listening become pioneers by nature. A very good leader will be an optimizer of co-ordination.
Leadership is a universal calling. It is a feature of politics, business, civil society and family matters. It is everywhere and it involves everyone. Cabinets, Boards and Foundations all need leaders. People need leaders. Those men and women who lead successfully are co-ordinators rather than controllers.
Their moral stature arises from dedication to our cause. We admire them not because they are powerful; they are powerful because we make them so, and they are admirable when they provide clear vision and positive direction. They are leaders most of all when they strike out in a new direction that even their followers could not have anticipated. Because the foundation of mutual trust is there, the followers will most likely endorse the initiative. We should never forget that leadership represents a meeting of the spirit between those who yearn for change and those in a position to bring it about.
Leadership orchestrates complexity. The metaphor of musical harmony (including disharmony) is relevant. The phrase attuned leadership contains this metaphor with all that it implies about an ensemble of separate players all mutually tuned to perform together. Harmony does not mean unison, by the way.
Only a dictator demands total unison from the subject people, using terror and propaganda to impose conformity. Instrumentalists in an orchestra rarely harp on a single note but instead make music from many lines of melody in counterpoint. In the same way, leadership relies on the combination of talents in the community to deliver a command performance. An attuned leader seeks consensus amongst the followers (harmony), but will settle for sufficient consensus allowing for some disagreement (disharmony) to be voiced as a healthy sign of tolerance for differences of opinion.
The melodic comparison came easily to me. As a former choral singer and still a composer of verses set to music, the notion that the leader is the conductor of a many-part harmony struck me as appropriate – not just because it avoids the idea of unison, but also because a conductor without an orchestra cannot be a conductor at all!
My daughter, Munene Khoza, as a student of the arts, helped me to full appreciation of the metaphor when she wrote:
"The basic conventions of music present the ensemble with a common language and means of cohesion. However, the role of the conductor extends far beyond donning the cheekily archaic tail-coat tuxedo and affording his musicians a steady beat to latch on to. It is the conductor's task to use convention as a point of departure from which to draw from his orchestra a performance that is characterized by the notions of favouring the collective over the individual and the beauty of inimitable interpretation over uninspired recitation The invariable potential of the collective and the journey from page to performance hinges on the conductor's talent to observe, cultivate and optimize talent in others".
Fatherly pride aside, what is most beautiful and thought-provoking in this passage is how Munene connects musical convention, individual expression and synchronicity. All three are essential elements of performance. Translate that into procedure, empowerment and co-operation, and you have the basic principles of creative organization.
The leader must work through routines that are known, recognized and trusted: this is the key principle of governance that makes an organization of any kind predictable and reliable. At the same time, the talents and enthusiasm of people must be encouraged even if they break the bounds of what was previously thought right or permissible: creative destruction is, after all, the source of innovation. Finally, it is up to leadership to weld the parts into a whole. This is no mechanical act. Munene puts her finger on the essence of inspired leadership by contrasting dullness with "the beauty of inimitable interpretation": there has to be something rousing in the leader's vision to motivate a strong following.
Central to this perspective is that the philosophical traditions of Africa offer an important contribution to the theory and practice of leadership in the world today. African humanism or Ubuntu, evokes both reason and empathy as the basis of ethical leadership. Ubuntu captured and articulated in the Nguni proverbal expressesion – Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu – means that a person is a person because of other people. The conceptual model of Attuned Leadership contends that the reciprocal relationship between the individual and the social collective stimulates caring and progressive thought and action. Nowhere is this more apt than in the relationship between leader and followers. Herein resides the essential resonance of Attuned Leadership.
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5 Things: Trade Deadline Deals and Yankees Offensive Explosion
Filed Under:Five Things You Missed, MLB, MLB Trade Deadline, New York Yankees
Credit: Ronald Martinez/Getty Images
By Andrew Kahn
On Sunday in Cooperstown, Craig Biggio, John Smoltz, Randy Johnson, and Pedro Martinez became the newest members of the baseball Hall of Fame. Perhaps a future Hall of Famer or two will be traded—or already has been—before the 4 p.m. ET non-waiver trade deadline.
Swan song no-no
Has a player's last start for a team ever been a no-hitter? We now know of at least one, as Cole Hamels threw a no-no for the Phillies on Saturday before getting dealt to Texas late Wednesday night. Hamels dominated the Cubs in Chicago, striking out 13 and walking just two in a 5-0 win. Rookie center fielder Odubel Herrera made two "diving" catches late in the game, the quotation marks used because the plays didn't require dives. In both cases, particularly the final out of the game, Herrera seemed overeager and wanted to be sure he didn't screw up the no-no. Whether the final play would have been ruled an error is debatable, but Herrera made it a moot point by securing the grab.
Game of runs
Sometimes the facts are all you need: On Tuesday, the Yankees trailed the Rangers 5-0 in the first inning but didn't allow a hit after that and scored 21 unanswered runs. Playing in Arlington, the Yanks did most of their damage in immediate response to the Rangers' barrage, posting 11 runs in the second. As crazy as it sounds, the onslaught could have been avoided. Texas was up 5-1 when a ground ball that should have been a double play was misplayed, leading to two runs and opening up the floodgates. Here's the dizzying array of runs:
Shortstop swap
This trade deserved it's own headline. Toronto sent Jose Reyes to Colorado for Troy Tulowitzki. Colorado players—including Tulo—say they were shocked by the trade, but Tulowitzki's name had been in trade talks for weeks. Reyes' was not. Both shortstops are having good but not great seasons and each has a significant injury history. It also seems odd that Toronto would give up a clear leadoff hitter to get another big bopper in a lineup full of them—not that Tulo or others couldn't bat first. Colorado also received some minor league flamethrowers in an attempt to finally inject some quality pitching into the franchise. As the deadline approaches, not too many of the other deals involve star players swapping teams, like this one did.
What's your deal?
It seems like there's been more intra-divisional trading than in the past. Jonathan Papelbon going from Philadelphia to Washington is one high-profile example. And an interesting side effect of that deal is incumbent Nats closer Drew Storen saying nothing other than he has talked to his agent about it. In other words, he's not happy. CBS Sports has every trade listed for your convenience. Other notable deals include Kansas City winning the Johnny Cueto sweepstakes and dealing for Ben Zobrist. The Mets, meanwhile, did not trade for Carlos Gomez, despite Wilmer Flores crying on the field Wednesday night after thinking he had been dealt.
Royal defense
The Royals upgraded their roster this week, but their defense was already among the best in baseball. On Tuesday, they turned a 4-6-3 "single play" in the ninth inning to preserve a 2-1 lead. Second baseman Omar Infante fielded a grounder on the opposite side of the bag and flipped it to shortstop Alcides Escobar, who fired to first for the out.
Infante shuffled it to his teammate straight from his glove and Escobar appeared a bit stunned to receive the toss. He kept his calm however, handled it cleanly with his bare hand, and made a strong throw. Was it really quicker than Infante making a jump throw across his body? Who knows, but it was pretty, and it got the job done.
Andrew Kahn is a regular contributor to CBS Local who also writes for Newsday and The Wall Street Journal. He writes about baseball and other sports at http://andrewjkahn.com. Email him at andrewjkahn@gmail.com and follow him on Twitter at @AndrewKahn


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Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island
Possibly one of the most iconic symbols of America is located on Liberty Island in New York Harbor. Made of copper, the statue was a gift from the people of France to the people of the USA. Lady of Liberty was designed by French sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi and built by Gustave Eiffel – yes, he of the Eiffel Tower. The statue was built in France then shipped overseas in crates. All the pieces were then assembled on the pedestal where it now stands and completion was marked by New York's first ticker-tape parade in 1886.
Ellis Island was the USA's busiest immigrant inspection station from 1892 until 1954 and welcomed nearly 12 million immigrants from Europe to the New World. The island was made part of the Statue of Liberty National Monument in 1965.
Interesting fact; Ellis Island has long been accepted as being in New York state. However, as it expanded due to reclaimed land, the state of New Jersey filed a lawsuit that the island belonged to them. In 1998 the United States Supreme Court ruled that Ellis Island was in fact in New Jersey.
Today, visitors can take the ferry across to both Liberty and Ellis Islands for a variety of tours - including Lady Liberty's crown. Advanced reservations are highly recommended and your Bon Voyage consultant will happily take care of the arrangements.


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Brandon Sanderson / Re: I Hate Dragons
Skip sat down on a large stone near where the dragon had been slain, and Paro—the hunters' short, wide-smiled supply master—brought him a cup of warmed cider and a blanket to put around his shoulders. Paro always took care of him. Though it was early spring, and the weather hadn't seemed too cold when Skip had begun this, he was now shivering, and not just from being doused with water.
The hunters backed away from the dead dragon. Skip didn't look at the corpse. He'd seen a lot of dead dragons by this point, and they always filled him with a sense of melancholy. They were majestic creatures. When they weren't threatening you, eating you, or attacking your village.
He'd always thought they should somehow be able to find a way to get along. They had a lot in common. They were both sentient, could both have conversations, and both races seemed to have trouble spelling things properly.
He sipped the cider, holding the cup to keep his hands from shaking. He'd really thought, for a moment, that this time would be his last. That Master Johnston and the others would move too late. Most young men Skip's age had an inflated sense of their own safety, presuming themselves immortal. Not Skip. Live through as many dragon attacks as he had, and you start to get a sense for the fragility of life.
He looked up as someone walked past. The sorceress. She was tall and solid, with aged hair turning from black to silver like the leaves changing with the coming of fall. Her face bore a few lines, but they didn't make her look old. Just . . . powerful, somehow. She passed eyes over him, her face expressionless, then walked past Master Johnston.
"I must say," Master Johnston said, "this was a big fellow! Most dangerous we've tackled for you, mistress. It might be worth a little bonus, don't you think? For our efforts?"
The sorceress ignored him other than to reach down to the huntmaster's waist and grab the hilt of his sheathed longsword. She yanked it free with a snap, causing him to stumble back, pale-faced. She merely continued on, lifting up the sword to rest it on her shoulder.
She's a cold one, Skip thought. Rarely said a word. Never participated in hunts. He didn't know much about Dawnfacers like her, other than that—instead of simple knacks—they were said to have very powerful magics.
Not that she ever used hers to help the hunters.
She strode over to the dragon, waving away the hunters gathered there. Then she rammed the sword into the beast's belly to open up its stomach.
Skip turned away. What was she searching for? Something in the bellies of the dragons, something she was willing to pay extraordinary amounts of money for, hiring a full band of hunters and running an expedition that had now lasted months. She didn't seem to care for the everyday riches often found inside a dragon's stomach. She tossed aside diamonds and gold as if they were worthless. She wanted something else.
Whatever it was, she didn't find it. She soon walked back past Master Johnston and handed him a bloody sword, though some sort of spell or magic on her part kept her hands and dress free of gore. Her expression had grown frustrated. She walked into the shadow of a nearby rock formation, then folded her arms in contemplation as the hunters gathered around to sift through the contents of the dragon's stomach, looking for riches.
Dragons actually had two stomachs, one that digested food and another that stored things. That made sense to Skip. Dragons didn't wear clothing, which meant no pockets on the outside. So they kept one on the inside instead.
"I presume," Master Johnston said, walking up to her, "that this beast was not the one you were searching for."
The sorceress gave no comment.
Master Johnston seemed pleased. He rubbed his hands together and glanced at the others, looking through the dragon's swallowed possessions. Caliber, the hunter's accountant, stood to the side, carefully keeping record of every item of value discovered. He had eyes like a rabbit—small and constantly flicking to the sides, watching everything, careful not to miss even the slightest detail.
The hunters called themselves servants of the greater good, protecting men by slaying dragons. They were really just fortune hunters. Every man who got a stab in on the dragon got a share—again, Caliber kept watch and count. Anyone not lucky enough to strike a blow got nothing, unless they were Master Johnston. He always got a share.
Of course, the ones who rushed in often ended up dead. There was a lot of turnover among the rank-and-file men of the hunters. The smart ones retired with some money. The lucky ones kept accumulating more and more cash.
The rest ended up dead. Which is where I'm headed, Skip thought. Sure, it had been nice to first be discovered by the hunters—finding a place where a young man who attracted dragons was an asset, not someone to be run out of town with swords and torches. But how long could he last?
"We will need to move farther into the mountains," the sorceress said. She always spoke in a hissing whisper. It gave Skip chills.
"Farther . . ." Master Johnston said. "Mistress, that's where the great drakes live! This fellow, he was a large one by our standards. But he's still small compared to the ancient beasts! We ain't gonna survive if we try that."
Aren't, Skip thought to himself, mostly for his own peace of mind.
"Greater risk," the sorceress whispered, "means greater reward."
That was the argument she'd used weeks ago to get them to come this far in to the highlands where the dragons lived. They ravaged all of Drakeface, of course, and many had even moved into Dawnface these days. Dragons could fly quickly, for all their awkwardness on ground.
Going deeper into their lands, however . . . that did seem suicidal. The fact that her promises of greater wealth didn't seem to tempt Master Johnston was a testament to just how dangerous it was. He moved off to see what the men had found, looking at his bloodied sword and seeming troubled.
Skip watched him retreat, then turned back and was chilled to find the sorceress watching him.
"I heard what you said earlier," she said in her whispered voice, walking up to him. "About wanting to stop being the one who baits the dragons." She wasn't taller than he was, but she seemed so. Of course, he was sitting down. Maybe that was it.
"I was thinking that avoiding being eaten would be a good career choice."
"I chose this group of hunters precisely because of you, young man. Your membership makes this group not only more successful, but more likely to encounter dragons. I don't have time to spare; already this takes too long."
Skip suppressed a shiver. Everyone knew that sorcery was bad. Oh, they didn't speak it, particularly when a sorcerer was around. But they knew it. Magic was meant to be used as knacks, things granted by the cube for the benefit of men. Sorcery, manipulating magical power and using it however you wanted, was like theft.
He didn't say that. Despite taunting dragons on a regular basis, Skip did have a small measure of self-preservation instinct.
"Does not the lure of wealth tempt you?" the sorceress said. "Think of the riches you could obtain if you continued just a little longer."
"I suspect they'd tempt me more if I got to keep any of them."
"Oh, I'm certain you'll survive long enough to use them."
"That's debatable. But I'm not talking about that, mistress. I don't get paid."
"You have to stab the dragon to get paid. I don't do any stabbing."
"But you're whom the dragons come to us to eat!"
"I know. No pay for me, though."
"Whose behind this?"
"Who's behind this."
"I asked you."
"No, that was a correction. 'Who's' is the form you wanted. It means 'Who is.' Whose is the possessive of who. It's something not a lot of people understand."
"I can hear apostrophes."
"It's my knack. One of them, at last. The other is smelling tasty to dragons."
"But the words sound exactly the same."
"You had them mixed up in your mind."
"But I knew what I meant to say."
"Still came out wrong."
She looked at Skip, arms folded. She didn't seem to think highly of knacks, but that was common for Dawnfacers. They had apparently not been pleased when the Border was finally breached and they'd found another Face full of magical people—but ones who knew nothing of harnessing the power in the way they did.
"Master Johnston is quite firm on the point," Skip said, changing the topic back to his pay. "It's in the group's charter. If you don't stab, but are still valuable, you get to eat—but you don't get paid. Except for Johnston himself."
"I will have words with him. This must change. You must continue doing what you have been doing."
"If what I've been doing is survive, I agree. But even with pay, mistress, I'm not sure. I don't know that I have much luck left in me. I think it's time to be done."
"But you can't."
"Actually, my contract says—"
"I don't care what your contract says."
"Really? Because I rewrote it several times, and used some very fined punctuation and interesting words. It's quite marvelous, I must say."
"You can't, because I need you to find the right dragon for me. What will it take to make you stay here? What is it you want?"
"You really want to know?"
"I want to be a lexicographer."
"I didn't figure you for the dancing type."
"That's choreographer. A lexicographer is a person who gathers words. More accurately, I want to be a lexicographer, a grammarian, and a philologist. But I'll settle for just the first."
"You want to gather words."
"What about gold?"
"That's a word."
"No, I mean, don't you want gold?"
"Too heavy."
"I already have dragons chasing me. If I were rich, people would want to rob me. No, I'll stick with words. They're valuable, but they're light, and nobody else seems to want them as badly as I do."
"But what will you do with them?"
"That's the exciting part! I'll put them all into this big book, you see. A book that contains all the words in the world, and includes all of their proper spellings."
"What good would that do?"
"Well, it would make my life a whole lot less annoying, for one thing. Have you heard the spelling of most of those hunters? It's atrocious!"
"Most of us can't hear spelling."
"Yes, but you write it. Incorrectly. With this book, you see, everyone could look and see how every word is spelled. And then nobody would be confused. These days, everyone has to stare at a document for hours, trying to figure out what all the words are. Nobody uses the same spellings. Why, just today, I've heard the word dragon spelled 'dragoon,' 'daragon,' 'dragen,' 'deragin,' and 'blarsnaf.'"
"Er . . . 'blarsnaf'?"
"That was from Pug the cook. He speaks Lukarvian, but the word should actually be spelled 'blarsnef' in his language. You see what I have to put up with?"
Skip sighed. It was the same story. The world seemed quite willing to accept misunderstood artists, misunderstood thieves, and even peasants who dreamed of royalty. But nobody knew what to do with a misunderstood philologist. Other than run him out of town for bringing the dragons down on them.
He still hadn't found a way to explain it to them. A book of all the words in the world. A . . . wordbook. He'd need a better name. Anyway, it was all about people understanding one another. Right now, they had trouble. He could solve that, could help them all get along.
"Did you know," he said to the sorceress, "that fourteen thousand people died last year because of a misspelling?"
"For some reason, I find myself skeptical, young man."
"It was in a peace treaty. The scribe wrote the word 'peace' as 'piece.' 'We, the people of Kalvonia, will continue to dwell in freedom, and you of Tarseldia will continue in piece.' It started a war. They thought he meant 'continue in pieces.' Fourteen thousand died before they found the problem. The scribes then argued for three weeks about which word had been meant. Both spellings are used. It's a problem."
"Look. If you'll continue on as bait for a few more weeks, I'll help you with your book thing."
"I don't know. What help could you be?"
"Lots. I know lots of words."
Something was different about the sorceress. He regarded her, thoughtful. It's her voice, he thought. She's gotten so involved in the conversation that she's not whispering. She's started to let her voice sound. It sounds . . . less frightening that way. Kind of melodic.
"There," the sorceress said. "It's settled than. I'm glad we had this conversation." She patted him on the shoulder, then walked away toward where their camp was.
"Then," he whispered. "You meant then. And I didn't agree."
She wasn't listening.
So, that night while the hunters were sleeping off the beer from the celebration after having slain the dragon, Skip packed his things. He slipped out of camp unseen. This dragon-bait stint had been nice, in some ways. It had been good to find a place where he was wanted and needed.
The next step was to find a place where he was wanted and needed for something other than being devoured. He had decided that he was done being bait for dragons.
It was particularly ironic, then, that about two hours out of camp, he found himself cornered by one. This time without a single hunter around to kill the thing for him.
"I'm so very tired," Skip proclaimed in a loud voice. He was quite proud of his acting, not that any group of players would have hired him. It wasn't good for business to have your theater periodically swarmed by hungry dragons.
"Also," Skip said. "I hate sunlight. So I'm not going to look upward. I'm just going to stroll along across this . . . er . . . rocky place of rocks and find a place to lie down and take a nap."
There was a beating of enormous wings above as the dragon circled. The trick was to get it to land. Dragons were not particularly agile creatures, though Skip didn't really blame them for that. Try weighing approximately as much as a small house and see how easy it is for you to fly. They needed a good running start to get off the ground, and preferably a cliff to launch themselves off.
Dragons were dangerous in the sky. Of course, they were dangerous on the ground too. Just less dangerous. In the same way that a sword is less dangerous so long as it's pointed at someone else. Anyway, if Skip could coax the dragon into landing, the hunters could strike. They'd never be able to take it out of the air, however, so they'd remain in hiding until it came down.
Normally, the dragons would try snatching him off the ground while in flight. He was ready for this. As a large rush of air came at him from behind, something unnaturally large and reptilian reaching for him with clawed fingers, Skip tripped. It was an expert trip—something else he was getting quite good at doing—and ended with him hitting the ground in a small hollow in the rock.
The dragon passed on just overhead, unable to get low enough to snatch him while remaining airborne. It would have to land. Midnight wings as wide as billboards thumped up and down, bearing the dragon back upward to wing around again.
"Gosh," Skip said loudly—dragons had excellent ears, but you still needed to project. "I'm sad that I tripped and got dust in my eyes, so I couldn't see anything for a few moments when that breeze passed me by. Perhaps I will take my nap in this little dip in the ground. I hope no wild beasts are around to savage me."
Master Johnston stuck a bemustachioed head out from behind a rock. "Bite. The script says bite me."
"I'm extrapolating!"
"What's the dragon's skin have to do with this?"
"That's exfoliate. Look, he's coming back. Hush. Ahem. Yes, I'll just be nodding off to sleep now!"
Skip actually had to close his eyes here; it was the most dangerous part. He remained tense, ready to leap up and scramble away while the hunters flooded in to attack. There was a whoosh of wind, though it wasn't nearly close enough.
Hesitantly, Skip cracked an eye. The large dragon had landed, but not on the ground. It clung to the top of one of the spikelike rock formations, perched like a bird in a tree. If that bird were as agile as a bathtub.
"You're a terrible actor." The dragon said in a low, rumbling voice.
"Er. Really? I actually thought I was getting better. I've been practicing in front of the mirror, you see."
"Terrible. I've seen pieces of soap that were better actors than you. You have an entire fleet of dragon hunters waiting, I assume."
"Um. No?"
"No, you don't have them? Or no I don't assume it? Because I really don't think you're capable of judging what I do and don't assume. By the way, who wrote that script for you?"
"Master Johnston."
"He needs an editor."
"I've tried to explain that! Do you know how difficult it is to work with such awful lines?"
"That doesn't excuse your bad acting."
"It at least gives some context, though, doesn't it?"
"So, um, if you saw through the ploy . . . why are you still here? Shouldn't you have fled?"
The dragon narrowed red, reptilian eyes at Skip while hanging from its perch. From up there, it could probably launch off and stay in the air—or, at the very least, hit the ground in the kind of skipping run while beating its wings that would let it take off quickly.
The hunters could have attacked anyway. The creature wasn't in the air, and they might be able to pull it down. They remained in hiding, however. They probably found it too dangerous.
The dragon seemed . . . eager. He leaned forward on his perch, watching Skip intently. The monster wanted him, wanted to devour him and rip at his flesh. The scent was intoxicating. That was why it hadn't flown away, despite recognizing the trap. The lure of Skip Dragon-nip was too great to turn down.
"Why don't you climb up here to me," the dragon said in its rumbling voice.
"Climb on up here."
"You'll eat me."
"Then I think I'll decline."
"Oh, come now. It won't be so bad as you think. They're will he hardly any pain at all."
"I don't care if there's pain or not. I'll still be dead. And you used the wrong version of 'they're.' You wanted there instead."
"I did? How can you tell? They'res no difference in the sounds they make."
"Actually, I can hear apostrophes."
"What, really?"
"Yes. I can hear spelling too, actually. It's my other knack."
"That's . . . interesting, child. Very interesting. Well, time to get this over with. No use in delaying. Come on up and be eaten."
"You don't make a very compelling argument."
"I'm a very busy dragon."
"Funny. I have lots of time. I could sit here all day, so long as it involves not being eaten."
"Oh, come now. Don't be difficult. This is what you were created to do."
"What gives you that terrible idea?"
"It's the circle of life, young human! The beauty of nature! Each creature in turn is consumed by a larger creature, round and around, until we reach the apex predators. Um . . . I'm one of those, by the way."
"I'd noticed."
"Well, the cows eat the grass, the wolves eat the cows, the men eat the wolves, the dragons eat the men. All very majestic in its simplicity."
"We don't eat wolves, actually."
"No. Not unless we're very hungry. Even then, they don't taste very good, so I'm told. Too stringy."
"Yes, well, you're supposed to. Men never do as they're told. Case in point, this moment, where you have the startling rudeness to refuse being consumed. How can I persuade you?"
"Actually, you are persuading me."
"Really? This is working? Er, I mean . . . of course I am. I'm known as being very compelling conversationalist, among my peers."
"You didn't need that comma," Skip said, "but you should probably have put 'among my peers' after 'I'm known.' That's beside the point. You see, I said you were persuading me because the definition of the word implies the act of trying to get someone to do something, whether or not you are successful. You persuade someone, then you either fail or succeed. Most people use it incorrectly. The word you wanted was convince. You need to convince me, not persuade me."
"You're not very much fun at parties, are you, small human."
"I . . . uh . . . don't get invited to parties very often."
"I can't imagine why. So, are you going to stop whining and come get eaten like a man?"
"You're making mother nature cry."
"Good. We could use more rain. Why don't you just go eat a cow?"
"Why don't you go eat some grass?"
"Um . . . humans can't digest grass."
"And dragons can't digest cows."
"Really. Humans were designed and built to be eaten by dragons. It's the nature of things."
"I find that rather unfair. Who eats you?"
"The worms, once we're dead. It's all very metaphysical."
"But you have to eat humans?"
"If we don't, we die."
"How are there any humans left?"
"We don't need to eat very often, little human. Once every few months. There's more than large enough a population of you to sustain us. You don't run out of . . . what is it you eat, again?"
"Cows. Pigs. Carrots. Very few wolves."
"Yes, well, this is much like you eating those things."
"Except for the part about me dying."
"Think of the good you'll be doing."
"Good? By keeping a dragon alive to continue terrorizing?"
"No, by sacrificing yourself for someone else. If I don't eat you, I'll just end up going off and finding someone else. Probably a fair young virgin. Poor child. If you think about it, getting eaten right now would be a very brave thing of you. Noble, heroic."
"Well, when you put it that way . . ."
Skip carefully pulled himself up off the ground and pretended to consider. Then, trying to look resigned, he shuffled over to the dragon's rocky perch.
The dragon leaned forward, red eyes widening in anticipation. The creature drew in a long breath that seemed to enchant him further, and his dry lips parted, revealing razorlike teeth.
Skip got close. Closer than he'd have liked. He could smell the dragon's putrid breath, see his reflection moving on the creature's steely claws. He stepped into its shadow.
"Wait," Skip said, as if coming to a realization. "What am I doing?" He stopped.
That was enough to taunt the dragon, who thought it was missing the chance for a meal. The creature's eyes went wide, and even a little bit mad, intoxicated by Skip's scent. It knew that there were hunters waiting. It knew it was in danger, that if it landed on the rocks, it would have a tough time getting back into the air with any sort of speed.
It seemed to forget all of that, for the moment. Skip's scent could have that effect. The dragon sprang, wings spreading as it dove into a half glide, half leap to attack him. Skip threw himself backward, hitting the rocks and rolling away.
"Have at 'im, boys!" Master Johnston yelled, ducking out and launching his crossbow.
There were two dozen hunters. Crossbows went first, firing thick bolts with wicked heads on them that were designed to puncture dragon scales. They only had enough force if fired close up, but they worked beautifully. A few other men ran out with blunderbusses—black powder weapons with wide barrels, packed with birdshot.
As the dragon roared, rearing up in front of Skip, Puke and Took—the blunderbussmen—fired sprays of birdshot through its unfurled wings. That left a spray of punctures in the taut skin there, further decreasing the dragon's chances of being able to fly away.
The creature screeched in pain, and Skip took the chance to scramble away. Maddened, the dragon jumped forward to follow, brushing aside the blunderbussmen.
Skip's heart thundered inside of him as he ran. He wasn't as fast as a dragon, but he had a little bit of a lead. If he could reach the rock walls. Just a few feet—
He felt the dragon's shadow fall on him.
Skip tripped.
A line of hunters leaped out of the rocks nearby and hopped over him, setting spears with the butts against the rock. The Dragon—now driven completely mad by pain and the scent of Skip—lunged downward, red eyes wide and almost sightless. Its momentum impaled it on the spears, snapping three of them free.
Its head got only inches from Skip, lips parting, drool dripping down from the bottom lip. Then it fell to the side, legs jerking.
The spearmen moved in to finish the butchery. Skip lay on the ground, breathing in and out, trembling.
I really need to find a new line of work, he thought.
Brandon Sanderson / I Hate Dragons
I Hate Dragons
"Master Johnston?"
"Yes, Skip?"
"I was wondering if maybe we might review my employment situation."
"What? Now? Lad, this isn't the time."
"Er, I'm sorry, sir. But I believe this is exactly the time. And, I apologize, but I don't intend to move until I've had my say."
"Fine. Fine. Be on with it then."
"Well, Master Johnston, you know how we're here to kill this dragon, sir?"
"Yes. That's our job. Dragon hunters. It says so on your bloomin' jacket, lad!"
"Well, sir, technically you and the other boys are the hunters."
"You're an important part, Skip. Without you, the dragon won't never come!"
"I believe you mean 'will never come,' sir. And, well, this is about my part. I realize it's important for you to have someone to draw the dragon."
"You can't catch nothing without bait."
"'Can't catch anything,' sir. And that is as you've said. However, I can't help noticing one factor about my role in the hunt. I am, as you said, bait."
"And it seems to me that eventually, if you put bait out often enough . . ."
"Well, sir, eventually that bait is going to end up getting eaten. Sir."
"You see my trouble."
"You've been doing this for a year now, and you ain't ever gotten ate."
"That sentence was deplorable, sir."
"What's math have to do wi' this?"
"You're thinking 'divisible,' sir. Anyway, yes, I've survived a year. Only, I've started thinking."
"A dangerous habit, that."
"It's chronic, I'm afraid. I've started thinking about the number of near misses we've had. I've started thinking that, eventually, you and the boys aren't going to get to the dragon quickly enough. I'm thinking about how many reptilian bicuspids I've seen in recent months."
"I've cussed more than twice myself."
"All right, lad. I can see where you're going. Two percent, and nothing more."
"A raise?"
"Sure. Two percent's good money, son. Why, when I was your age, I'd have died to get a two percent raise."
"I'd rather not die because of it, sir."
"Three percent, then."
"You pay me in food, sir. I don't get paid any money."
"Ah. I forgot you was a smart one. All right. Four percent."
"Sir, you could double it, and it would be meaningless."
"Don't get so uppity! Double? What, you think I'm maid of coins?"
"The word is 'made,' sir."
"Huh? That's what I said. How—"
"Never mind. Sir, this isn't about money, you see."
"You want more food?"
"No. You see, er . . ."
"Be on with it! That dragon ain't going to kill himself!"
"Technically, dragons—being sentient beings—likely have a suicide rate similar to other intelligent creatures. So perhaps this one will kill himself. It's statistically possible, anyway. That's beside the point. You see, sir, I think I'd rather change my participation in the hunts."
"I'd like to be a hunter, sir. You know. Hold a harpoon? Fire a crossbow? I wouldn't mind just reloading for the other hunters until I get the hang of it."
"Don't be silly. You couldn't do that while out in the center of the field, being bait!"
"I wasn't talking about doing that while being bait. I'd rather do it instead of being bait. Sir."
The two of them continued to crouch behind a formation of rocks that looked uncomfortably toothlike to Skip. The dragon winged about in the air. He was, as Master Johnston would have said, a "large fellow." That put him close to thirty feet long, with an enormous wingspan.
During his months with Johnston's Spears, Dragon Hunters, Skip had learned to identify many varieties of dragons. This was a Grummager, distinguished by the black shading of the scales that glowed radiant colors when struck by light, as well as the more webbed pattern on the skin of the wings.
The dragon had a stout, thick neck, and looked like he could swallow Skip in a single gulp.
Master Johnston was a large-waisted fellow with a bushy red mustache and a cap on his head from the military he'd served in years ago. He held his thick-bolted crossbow on his shoulder, and he studied Skip with a thoughtful expression. For him, that meant a lot of crossed eyes, scrunched up eyebrows, and one twitching eyelid. Forcing Master Johnston to think was like trying to start up a pump that hadn't been worked in two decades. You could probably make it work, but it would spurt out a lot of slop first.
"I see that yer a smart one, son," Master Johnston said.
"Five percent."
Skip sighed. His clothing—coat, shirt, trousers, all sturdy but well-used—dripped with rose water. It had been dumped on him earlier to obscure his scent.
"Lad," Johnston said, leaning closer. "We'll talk about this later. I promise. But right now, there be a lizard in the sky and a cocked crossbow on my shoulder. I can't bother with distractions. Yer tired of bein' bait? Well, we'll see if we can find someone else later.
"But lad, in all my years, I've never found anyone like you. Yer a superstar, and you have real talent. It's what the Great Rock did give ye."
Master Johnston, like most Wingosians, worshipped Lusia, the moon goddess. Scientists had recently explained that, through use of magic and telescopes alike, they'd determined that the moon was really just a big rock held in the sky by gravity. Being pragmatic folk, the Wingosians had adapted their belief system to accommodate this.
Master Johnston reached out, laying a meaty finger on Skip's shoulder. "You're special. It'd be a shame to waste that, son. Do what you were created to do. Reach for the stars."
"Stars are giant balls of gas, burning far away."
"They are?"
"Yes. Reaching for them, even if it were possible, would likely burn your hand. Sir."
"Ain't that something."
"Isn't that something."
"That's what I said. Either way, son, you need to explore your talents."
"My talent is getting eaten by dragons, sir. It seems that's less something to explore, and more something to experience. Once. In a grisly, painful, and abruptly ending sort of way."
"That's the spirit! On we go! The sorceress is waiting for us to gut this one, and it ain't wise to keep a sorceress waiting."
Skip sighed as Master Johnston waved for the others to continue their preparations. Nearby, Rimbor—a wiry dragon hunter with long hair braided into a ponytail—crouched with a large bucket of water. Skip would take off his rose water-soaked jacket, get doused with water, and wander into the open ground before the rocks. That would draw the dragon.
The mere scent of him would be enough. Most everyone on the Sixthface had special talents, as a function of living in such a magical land. Magic is like bad grammar; hang around it long enough, and it rubs off on you. The people called them knacks, and a person usually had a few. They were mostly simple things. Skip had three, but people only ever seemed to care about the first.
Skip smelled great to dragons.
He was irresistible, actually. He was like catnip to enormous, murderous reptiles. One whiff of him drove them into a frenzy, drawing their attention completely. People tended to be quite impressed by this knack. Or, at least, impressed that Skip had survived as long as he had while possessing it.
"Right, then," Rimbor said, raising his bucket. "Ready?"
Skip sighed, taking off his coat. "Sure."
Rimbor doused him with water, washing off the lingering scent of roses. Then Skip dashed out onto the open stone ground, bounded by the rocks.
Brandon Sanderson / MOVED: Fantasy girls, where are you?
This topic has been moved to Books.
http://www.timewastersguide.com/forum/index.php?topic=7382.0
Brandon Sanderson / Re: Warbreaker Cover
A little addition here, if I may. I actually asked for Mr. Dos Santos by name. I'd been following his work for a while, and enjoyed a lot of what Irene had been posting on her blog regarding him. So, when she asked me for my thoughts on a Warbreaker cover, I spoke up and asked for him.
I love this cover. I've always said that I, personally, prefer a cover that is good visually to one that exactly replicates a scene or character from the book. I think this is striking and distinctive, and will really stand out on the shelf.
Excellent work, Dan, and thank you for stopping by to speak with my readers.
Brandon Sanderson / Re: ***SPOLIERS Official Hero of Ages Spoilers Thread. Includes Q&A w/Brandon*
Quote from: Ookla The Mok on October 20, 2008, 07:59:41 AM
Brandon, here you said Alcatraz 4 is called Alcatraz vs. The Dark Talent; is that still the working title? Also, you mentioned Dragonsteel: The Lightweaver of Rens, but now you say The Liar of Partinel is a standalone. Change of plans? (I know you can't get back to Dragonsteel for a while.)
The Alcatraz titles are in flux because I need to know if Scholastic wants the fifth one or not. (They only bought four.) Dark Talent will be one of them for certain.
The Liar of Partinel was part of a tw0-part story told hundreds of years before the Dragonsteel epic. However, since I've dropped plans to go with Liar anytime soon--AMoL has priority, followed by Way of Kings--I don't know what I'll end up doing with the second book, or if I'll ever even write it. I was planning on not calling either of these "Dragonsteel" in print, actually, and just letting people connect the two series on their own. It wouldn't be hard to do, but I didn't want the first actual book in the main storyline to be launched by Tor as "Book Three" since there would be such a large gap of time.
Brandon Sanderson / Re: ***SPOLIERS Official Hero of Ages Spoilers Thread. Includes Q&A w/Brandon****
Quote from: Jakobus on October 20, 2008, 12:30:20 AM
First of all. WOW!!!!!! I cannot express how much I enjoyed this series! I was extremely happy to finally meet you at the Provo signing, so now 2 of my top 3 authors are down (unfortunately I can't meet RJ, ) Anyhow here is my question
Will Vin and Elend fade like mistborn? or will they live on as the "father and mother" of the new world?
Thanks Jakobus!
I just answered this one, kind of, just above. I'm afraid it's rather vague. But they won't 'fade' away.
Quote from: notxaxlie on October 19, 2008, 11:57:27 PM
I'm one of those readers tha gets swept in the stories and fails to come up with any theories whatsover.
However I did notice one... 2 years ago.
Hoid
I can't believe this is being talked about. I remember making a thread about it shortly after I joined the forums (I can't even find it anymore) About how I thought it was odd to see Hoid in Mistborn as an informant, Elantris as a beggar, Warbreaker as a storyteller, and I had a strong feeling it was in the first chapter as Liar as well but was too lazy to investigate.
It was before these forums got so crazy crowded and I'm pretty sure my questions on whether the use of the name was intetional were brushed off. Weird right? Ever since then I considered my speculations unimportant (much like my speculation's on Reen's obsidian, the nobility really being terris, and Vin being a feruchemist, by the way, don't ask about the second two, I'm crazy)
Anyway, just wanted to add this. I sure wish I could find my original Hoid post but I'm pretty sure it was so old, it's been deleted.
I remember when you pointed Hoid out, notxaxlie. I was curious to see if others would start talking about it then, but it just kind of faded. You were certainly one of the first to spot that point.
Quote from: Pygmalion on October 19, 2008, 09:39:07 PM
......wooooooooooooooah......
I still can't stop thinking that in my head. It's all that's really coming to mind at the moment.
I made the stupid mistake of finishing the book this afternoon in a public place. Therefore I looked like a complete moron as I burst into tears when Elend died. I think it was a good ending. I'm still not totally decided on that. I'm just in shock.
It's just so amazing how the books progressed, developing into this huge cosmic epic that I never expected from just reading The Final Empire a year ago. I guess in some sense what I'm feeling is a slight sense of... awe, maybe? I want to know how he comes up with stuff. I mean seriously, talk about not just writing another fantasy series.
But I'm also shocked that no one else seemed to have figured out that Sazed was the Hero of Ages. I thought it might be him when I started the book, but it could as easily have been Vin or Elend. But at about a third of the way through, page 215 to be exact, there was this line from Sazed thinking in his head:
"I am, unforunately, in charge."
"I am, unfortunately, the Hero of Ages."
No one else would have used the same wording as Sazed did when he was thinking to himself. I have to assume that was intentional on Brandon's part. It was very subtle... I'm actually surprised I noticed.
I'm gratified that you noticed. The Terris dialect IS very subtle. That speech pattern is one hint, the other is the use of "I think" to soften phrases at the ending. Beyond that, Sazed speaks with compound, complex sentences using frequent hedging to indicate that he's often uncertain. (That's another Terris speech pattern, not wanting to offend with language.)
The epigraphs in this book particularly (though I did it for Kwaan too) are intended to "sound" Terris, and like Sazed in particular. I didn't think anyone would catch it. You made my day!
Quote from: jwmeep on October 19, 2008, 08:07:11 PM
I'm a big fan of Brandon's work. This book is one of his best so far, and it really affected me. Some parts had me in tears, others had me pacing around at midnight.
Might as well try my questions:
1: It seemed that Kelsier was fluent in Spook's street dialect, and even conversed with Spook in the dialect at one point. So I'm assuming Kelsier knew what Lestibournes really meant, and being who Kelsier was, giving him a new name probably was more about building the boy up, rather than just the length. That said, why Spook? If he was trying to boost Spook's self confidence, why use a name like that?
2: Given that Kelsier seems be keeping an eye out for everything from the beyond, how does Kelsier feel about how every turned out? Has his opinion on Elend changed? How did he react upon learning Lord Ruler's true nature? I'm guessing this may be a RAFO situation, but I might as well ask.
3: A question about Goradel. His end was very tragic, and was one of the things that had me in tears. The thing that really twisted the knife into me, is that he died that horrible death thinking that he had failed. When everything he tried to survive failed, his final act was to try to prevent the message into falling into Ruin's hands, but even that was futile. With those who seem to be active in the great beyond, did Goradel ever find out about what his actions helped to bring about? Was he ever thanked for his actions?
1. It's an inside joke between them. "Spook" means "Sneaky" or "Clever" in the street slang. It was a compliment.
2. Yes, let's RAFO for the most part. (Let's just say that he is overall pleased.)
3. Well... I don't want to speak too much about the great beyond in the books, as in my opinion that level of cosmology is influenced by your own beliefs in the hereafter and in deity. Beyond that, I would rather not speak of what happens to the souls beyond the three Realms, as even Sazed doesn't know that.
Perhaps this will help, however. Like most of the leaders of soldiers in this series (Demoux, Wells, and Conrad included,) Goradel is based on and looks like one of my friends. In this case, it's Richard Gordon. He's read the book and cheered for his namesake's sacrifice and eventual victory. So the REAL Goradel knows.
Quote from: Chaos2651 on October 19, 2008, 04:34:43 PM
No, Elend was burning atium and had run out of everything else. At least, that was how I read it. It wouldn't help to get rid of the atium if Elend wasn't burning it, I think.
So, Brandon, it's Sunday now. Did Hero of Ages sell enough to become a bestseller?
*crosses fingers*
We'll know on Wednesday, but the distribution problems have us worried. A lot of stores didn't get the books on the shelves until Friday or Saturday, which only gave one or two days in that market to get on the list. We'll see. It's going to be close. It will depend on how many stores got the books on time, how well other authors did, and whether or not I sold copies at the RIGHT stores. (The ones which report to the NYT list.)
I will post on Wednesday when I know, though it might not be until late in the day, as I've got a lot going on during tour on Wednesday.
Quote from: Andrew the Great on October 19, 2008, 02:09:34 PM
Awesome Book. Seriously, probably the best I've ever read.
And to think I was worried about what we'd theorize over! Now, for my "I told you so" moment:
I totally called the "future of the world on his arms" thing. Yes, Chaos, you may bow. That was my topic. Ha!
That said, that's really the only thing that I was dead on. There were others that I was close, but the rest, I was WAY off.
So, a quick question: Why can Vin fuel Elend's atium-burning, even though Atium is Ruin's Body and Vin is using Preservation? Or did I misread that and he was just burning atium and had run out of everything else?
Yes, as has been pointed out:
"A powerful peace swelled in Elend. His Allomancy flared bright, though he knew the metals inside of him should have burned away. Only atium remained, and the strange power did not--could not--give him this metal. But it didn't matter. For a moment, he was embraced by something greater. He looked up, toward the sun." (From the text.)
As a note here, the powers granted by all of the metals--even the two divine ones--are not themselves of either Shard. They are simply tools. And so, it's possible that one COULD have found a way to reproduce an ability like atium's while using Preservation's power, but it wouldn't be as natural or as easy as using Preservation to fuel Allomancy.
The means of getting powers--Ruin stealing, Preservation gifting--are related to the Shards, but not the powers themselves.
Quote from: lexluthorxiv on October 19, 2008, 11:58:28 AM
So I have a couple of questions....
I loved the book, it was all great UNTIL Vin and especially ELEND died. I can see why you did it, but I was crying so hard when Vin confirmed Elend was dead. I actually had an urge to burn the books right then and there and pretend it had never happened. Either way, I continued reading and then found some sliver of hope when Sazed said he hadn't figured out how to restore the souls YET, he said he would get better at it.
1)Does that mean that he might someday, maybe, hopefully (pretty please) bring them back to life? I suspect that you might not answer, but can I atleast hope? Cause if anyone deserved to live a full NORMAL life it was Vin and Elend. Besides, it would ROCK if Elend and Kelsier ever got to meet each other......
Awe man.....i'm still crying over Elend....Is it wrong I get so attatched to characters? Its just that Elend and Vin got so little time together. It's so sad. Which reminds me: You mentioned, when someone asked about sazed meeting twindyl again, that he hadn't because he hadn't reached that space where souls were and the ones that were trapped in the in between were the ones that had a connection with either the physical or the concious world. Those weren't the exact words but it was something like that that IMPLIED that Vin, Elend and Kel were somehow still connected with the earth because unlike twindyl the hadn't progressed past that in between place.
2) Am I right and maybe going somewhere, or am I talking total nonsense and simply trying to cope with the loss of Elend?
One of the reasons for that line at the end is to give you, the reader, the power and authority to bring to the characters the ending you wish. I may do more in this series, but until then, please take the future of the characters wherever you want in your own mind. (Also, you mention that they had such little time together--which is true, but also remember that there was a year between books one and two, then another year between books two and three. They spent most of this time together.)
The door is open for a return of Elend and Vin. Will I write it? It isn't likely to be soon, if I ever even do. Does that mean it won't happen? No. Not at all. If I write more Mistborn books, they will be hundreds of years in the future. During that time, Sazed could have learned to get souls into bodies, given Vin and Elend a life together somewhere away from the others, where they wouldn't have to struggle quite so much like they did through their lives, then ushered their souls on to the beyond. Or they could hang around with him, working with him as he takes his next steps to shepherd humankind on Scadrial. Or neither of the above. Imagine it how you wish, for I'm not going to set this one in stone for quite some time, if ever.
Quote from: Death Magnetic on October 19, 2008, 07:47:58 AM
I'd first like to say that this series was fantastic. I was exceptionally pleased with how you tied everything together in this final book of the trilogy.
1. This series has the best world-building, magic system, and over-arching plot of any epic fantasy I have ever read. I think George R.R. Martin is still the master of creating memorable characters, developing them, and having them interact with each other. Other authors, like Hobb and Rothfuss, are better at evincing emotion. You are an amazing writer yourself.
That being said, I have a couple suggestions for you.
2. The first contradicts itself, so take it for what it is. I would suggest that you write how you feel the story should be written. Getting inspiration from someone is one thing, but changing your work because some people want a happy ending or dark ending takes away from the purity of writing. The part you added in at the end where Sazed let Spook know Vin and Elend were happy in the afterlife really stuck me like a thorn. I think it was apparent how happy they were together in life and how necessary their sacrifices were. That would have been enough for me.
3. My other suggestion is more of a plea really. Please don't extend this series just to capitalize on it. If you really feel there is more story to be told, then tell it. I, for one, thought the ending would have been perfect if allomancy, hemalurgy, and feruchemy would have faded from existence as their corresponding gods did. It would have been rather romantic to have people start over with a new "normal" world.
Congratulations again on completing a masterful work!
1. You humble me. I don't think I've NEARLY the skill for characters that Mr. Martin does, and that's not just an attempt at modesty. I hope to be there some day, however.
2. This is a tricky one. I didn't change the worldbuilding or the cosmology of the story in order to fit what people wanted, but I feel strongly about using writing groups and test readers to see if my intention in a book has been achieved. I show things to alpha readers to see what is confusing or bothersome to them, then decide if that's really something I want to be confusing or bothersome.
In my mind, the presence of a powerful being such as Sazed, mixed with some direct reaching from beyond the grave by a certain crew leader, indicated that there WAS an afterlife. However, test readers didn't get it, so I tweaked the story to make it more obvious. Perhaps I should have left it as is, but I liked both ways, and decided upon the one I liked the most in the context of reader responses.
I do plan to always tell the stories from my heart, and not change them because of how I think the reactions will be. But I do think it's important to know what those reactions are ahead of time and decide if they are what I want or not.
3. We are on the same page on this one. You can read other posts on the thread to see what kind of thoughts I might have for more Mistborn books, but I don't know if/when I will write them. It depends on the story and how excited I am to tell it.
Quote from: firstRainbowRose on October 19, 2008, 12:39:15 AM
I have a question (I knew there was one when I was done. I just couldn't remember it.) Is Sazed effected by the metal blindess, or can he see thing written in metal?
He is blinded by metal.


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Suspect in fatal Fort Smith shooting arrested
Thomas Saccente Times Record tsaccente@swtimes.com
A suspect in a reported fatal shooting in Fort Smith on Thursday was arrested Saturday.
Christopher Neil Walker, 34, was arrested sometime after 10 p.m. Saturday at Garrison Pointe Market & Cafe at 415 Garrison Ave., according to Cpl. Anthony Rice of the Fort Smith Police Department, on a felon in possession of a firearm warrant.
"We believe him to be the shooter, but he's not going to be charged with that until the Sebastian County Prosecuting Attorney's Office had a chance to review the case," Rice said.
Fort Smith police responded to River Valley Inn & Suites at 5103 Towson Ave. on Thursday after receiving a call from dispatch stating that Ethan Meagley, 27, was lying in the southeast parking lot with a gunshot wound around 6:50 p.m. that day. Dispatch initially received a call in reference to an intoxicated man lying in the parking lot of Inn & Suites. Emergency personnel transported Meagley to an area hospital, where he was pronounced deceased.
Detectives with the Police Department believe that "some type of altercation" in the parking lot preceded the reported shooting based on their preliminary investigation of the incident, the article states. They also determined that Noah Bell, 19, was involved in the reported incident. Police located and arrested Bell for aggravated robbery and two unrelated warrants out of Sebastian County, a Police Department news release states. Bell is currently held in the Sebastian County Adult Detention Center without bond. Police also arrested possible witness Charles Ross, 27, on an unrelated warrant.
Walker is currently being held on a $50,000 cash bond, according to a Sebastian County Adult Detention Center deputy. He is scheduled to appear in court Wednesday at 9 a.m.


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Internet Publishing: Online Today, But What About Tomorrow Or Where Have You Gone, 406,302?
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In the January 2006 issue of Intellectual Property Today, attorneys Thomas J. Van Gilder and Carl A. Kukkonen cited a document on the US Patent and Trademark Office webpage. [USPTO] for the proposition that "patent filings increased from 353,394 to 406,302, an increase of nearly 15%, from fiscal year 2002 to fiscal year 2005". In footnote 3 of their article, they carefully provided the page number of the document and the link to the document: See USPTO 2005 Annual Report at 61, http://www.uspto.gov/web/offices/com/annual/2005/2005annualreport.pdf.
The interesting, and troubling, aspect of this is that the document cited at the given link will not have the number "406,302".
The number 406,302 did not come out of nowhere. Intellectual Property Today mentioned this figure in its December 2005 issue: The agency received 406,302 patent applications and
323,501 trademark applications as reported in its FY05 Performance and Accountability Report released in November. eWeek magazine mentioned the figure on January 16, 2006: Last year, the USPTO granted 165,485 patents, up from 99,000 in 1990. According to the patent office, a record 406,302 new applications were filed.
only last year. On January 25, 2006, Bruce V. Bigelow of the San Diego Union-Tribune used it: In November, the patent office said it issued 165,485 patents in the fiscal year ending September and received 406,302 patent applications, as well as 323,501 trademark applications. Andy Holloway of Canadian Business used the number on January 30, 2006: It's easy to see why the patent office is overwhelmed. He received 406,302 patent applications
and granted 165,485 of them last year, adding to a patent database that numbers around seven million. On February 20, 2006, Dan O'Shea had used the number in Telephony: In 2005, the agency received 406,302 patent applications and 323,501 trademark applications, according to the agency's website.
As of April 23, 2006, a table can be found on page 61 of the link identified above indicating that there were 409,532 filings in fiscal year 2005. There is no explanation of why the number previous of 406302 disappeared. Data that only exists on a website can be changed, without explanation, and thus cease to exist. In this particular case, we have evidence of the previous information, because so many people have cited it. However, someone looking only at footnote 3 of Van Gilder and Kukkonen's article, and following the link to page 61 might be led to the conclusion that Van Gilder and Kukkonen "got it wrong".
In fact, Van Gilder and Kukkonen's "error" allegedly referred to a link to a site capable of changing numbers. Authors who cite Internet sites to obtain numerical data should be aware that such a citation can be perilous in the sense that it is not permanent. The situation presents an interesting problem in the way citation checking works. If a law review author used the number 406,302 and cited Van Gilder and Kukkonen, the citation would be approved. However, if a law journal author used the 406,302 number and cited the USPTO document, the citation should NOT be approved.
In this particular case, there is a secondary substantive issue relating to patent law. The figure of 409,532 (or the previous figure of 406,302) includes the combination of utility patent applications AND design patent applications. Typically, in things like the patent grant rate debate, you only look at utility claims. Taking the previous data as presented, one would find an attribution rate of 165,485/406,302 = 40.7%, tiny compared to the 97% number once alleged by Quillen and Webster, or the number of 85% accepted by Lemley and Moore in the article "Ending the Abuse of Patent Lawsuits."
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Bryant Crawford's Deep Three Propels Wake Forest Over UNC Greensboro
The sophomore hit a huge shot when it mattered most.
By Robert Reinhard@Robert_Reinhard Dec 9, 2016, 10:29pm EST
Share All sharing options for: Bryant Crawford's Deep Three Propels Wake Forest Over UNC Greensboro
Bryant Crawford only made one three-pointer in Wake Forest's 78-75 over UNC Greensboro, but he picked a great time to do it. Wake Forest was up by as many as 16 points in the second half, yet found themselves tied at 75 after Diante Baldwin hit a shot with just 28 seconds remaining. Bryant Crawford wasn't Wake Forest's first option on Danny Manning's final play design, but the sophomore drained a cold-blooded shot from outside of NBA range to put the Deacs up 78-75 with just 2 seconds remaining. He stole the subsequent inbounds pass and Wake Forest held on to advance to 8-2 on the season.
The phrase "game of runs" gets overused a lot in this game, but I believe it applies to this game. The Deacs got out to a 16-7 lead early on in the contest, but went on a run of their own to briefly take a 28-27 lead over the Deacs. Wake responded with a 16-3 run to close out the half and took a 43-31 lead into the locker room.
Wake Forest came out with purpose immediately after halftime and extended the lead by 5 points in less than a minute. Wake maintained a strong lead for the first 6 minutes of the half, but then UNC Greensboro's Marvin Smith and Malik Massey connected on back-to-back triples to cut the lead to single-digits. UNCG was just 2 for 11 from outside the arc in the first half, but they are a good shooting team and got hot in the second half. They shot 6-11 in the second, and that enabled them to cause Wake Forest's lead to dwindle.
Wake's lead also evaporated in the second half because they lost crispness and turned it over 11 times in the second half, despite just turning it over 4 times during the first 20 minutes. John Collins and Keyshawn Woods had 4 turnovers apiece, while no other player had more than 1 turnover. The teams had 31 rebounds apiece. While UNC Greensboro has size down low and is a good offensive rebounding team, Wake was caught ball watching at times and that allowed the Spartans to grab as many offensive rebounds.
Keyshawn Woods was huge for Wake Forest in the second half. He scored 13 of his 16 points in the second half, and made 3 of 4 three-point attempts. Those threes were critical, as they gave Wake additional cushion when UNC Greensboro was getting close. His scoring increase made up for John Collins' relatively quiet second half on the offensive end. He finished the game with 17 points and 12 rebounds, but had just 6 points in the second half.
The final five minutes of this one were largely sloppy and uninspiring. UNCG's R.J. White, who finished with 22 points, grabbed an offensive rebound and converted the layup with 4:59 remaining to make it 73-69 with Wake Forest still ahead. The teams combined for just 11 points for the remainder of the contest. UNCG cut the lead to 1 point with 3:25 left, after yet another offensive rebound and put back.
Keyshawn Woods was Wake's hero as UNCG was making its run, but Bryant Crawford was the man in the waning moments. He made a great steal and difficult layup with just under 90 seconds remaining to put the Deacs up 3. R.J. White made a free throw to cut the lead to two, and then Wake Forest turned it over when Bryant Crawford drove and couldn't convert on a pass to John Collins. Diante Baldwin came down and made a close shot with 28 seconds remaining to tie the game at 75.
Enter Bryant Crawford stage right.
The super sophomore is fearless and will not back down from any situation. He made huge shots down the stretch against Indiana and LSU last year, and tonight he was an assassin. 0-4 on three-pointers prior to the final play, but 1-1 when it mattered most.
Neat moment after the game.
Bryant Crawford's grandma called after the game. She didn't know the #Wake result. So he quietly explained he simply hit the game-winning 3.
— Adam Smith (@adam_smithTN) December 10, 2016
Wake Forest will now have 8 days off before they travel to Cincinnati to take on Xavier next Saturday. The Deacs will have to improve defensively as Danny Manning mentioned in his post game press conference. They need to do a better job of contesting shooters, and also need to finish defensive possessions and grab defensive boards. What were your thoughts on the game?
Danny Manning after the win pic.twitter.com/DiC170QkF2
— Bret Strelow (@bretstrelow) December 10, 2016


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Learn about sustainable products and services offered by local businesses and organizations, meet area non-profits that share Earth Day values, catch local musical acts and performance art, participate in a number of hands-on educational activities, and enjoy diverse cuisine. Free and open to the...
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Interview: ONC on Next Steps for Secure Data Exchange
Genevieve Morris Discusses 21st Century Cures Act Initiatives Marianne Kolbasuk McGee (HealthInfoSec) • July 17, 2017 15 Minutes
Genevieve Morris, principal deputy national coordinator for health IT
The Office of the National Coordinator for Health IT will soon ramp up its efforts to advance secure health information exchange as part of its mandate under the 21st Century Cure's Act, says Genevieve Morris, ONC's principal deputy national coordinator.
ONC, a unit of the Department of Health and Human Services, is carrying out the data exchange and health IT interoperability provisions of the 21st Century Cures Act, helping achieve the goal of accelerating the advancement of medical innovation.
The office will host a July 24 kick-off meeting to discuss existing national trust infrastructures and suggested best practices for securely sharing electronic health data to improve care, Morris notes in an interview with Information Security Media Group.
Attendees are expected to include representatives from trust exchange networks and health information exchange organizations, healthcare provider systems and electronic health record system vendors, she says.
"There tends to be a lot of misconceptions about the various networks and organizations operating and about what they allow ... and don't allow ... how they're exchanging data, how they're regulating the exchange of data with their various agreements," she says. "What we want is to have a level playing field so that everyone understands the same thing about each of the organizations."
Comments Sought
Following the meeting, ONC will accept for 30 days public comments about "what should and shouldn't be in the common agreement" for what is involved with trusted health information exchange as it pertains to the 21st Century Cures Act, she says.
"This is an opportunity for folks to tell us: 'Here's the area within policy and governance where we're having a problem exchanging data and we think this should be addressed.'"
In the interview, Morris also discusses:
The biggest areas of change since ONC released in 2015 its 10-year roadmap for interoperable, secure health information exchange;
Common hurdles related to healthcare organizations' willingness to securely share patients' health data and whether intentional, inappropriate information blocking in the healthcare sector is a serious problem;
The potential impact of the Trump administration's proposed fiscal 2018 ONC budget cuts.
Before joining ONC as principal deputy national coordinator for health IT, Morris worked with ONC during the Obama administration in a variety of areas, including policy, standards, technology and grant programs, through contractor Audacious Inc., where she was senior policy director. Morris was involved with development of ONC reports relatedto the State Health Information Exchange Program, consumer engagement in health information exchange, provider directories, query-based health information exchange and the development of the Shared Nationwide Interoperability Roadmap. Earlier in her career, Morris worked at a payer organization and with a health information exchange organization in Pennsylvania.
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https://www.healthcareinfosecurity.com/interviews/interview-onc-on-next-steps-for-secure-data-exchange-i-3645