Authors Electric

Last month, I wrote a piece on my favourite god, Hermes, the god of thieves, liars, athletes, scholars, merchants, the home, dreamers and travellers– even those travelling to the next world. Oh, and all those of us who earn our living by words. I also discovered that the worship of the Olympian Gods is no longer a thing of the past. Like Druidism, it’s been revived, as ‘Hellenism’ or ‘Hellenic Worship.’ While skipping about on the internet, I happened on a forum where present-day worshippers swop tales of how Hermes has helped them, and exchange photos of their home shrines. There are useful tips. For instance, suppose you are an American teen, part of an orthodox Christian household, but secretly worship Zeus and Aphrodite. You want to set up a shrine to Them, but can’t face dealing with the uproar that would cause. What can you do? Well, make yourself a ‘traveller’s shrine.’ This is a lidded tin that will fit in a pocket or bag. Inside the lid, put your image of the pagan...

  Rod Kamitsuka, back when . To paraphrase Samuel Johnson: The prospect of death (by Coronavirus) can "concentrate the mind wonderfully."  We've been living with that prospect for more than a year now, awaiting the vaccine cavalry while the threat escalated from miniscule to monstrous. It matters not that the odds are in favour of survival except among the elderly and health-impaired. It's still a threat, with nasty side effects. Covid and the solitude of lockdown have made death more present to us all. Our capacity for denial wilts as the toll doubles and redoubles on TV. Death, however, can be a writer's friend. It motivates characters. It propels our narratives, themes, plot points, and symbols. Plus, dying can be a good career move for some writers, boosting book sales, prestige and popularity. No one ever heard of Stieg Larrson until he died, and we all know how The Great Gatsby flopped in 1925 and didn't catch on until after F. Scott Fitzgerald 's ...