Joe Vasicek

Trope Tuesday: The Three Faces of Eve

Why do so many character combinations come in groups of three? Unlike love triangles, where the combo is primarily a way to build conflict, the characters in power trios all build on each other in some way. They might be foils for each other, but as complementary archetypes, they do far more to drive the story together than they ever would apart.

One of the most interesting all-female power trios is the Three Faces of Eve, which combines the archetypes of child, seductress, and wife:

The “child” (who does not have to be a child literally) will be seen as innocent, perhaps to the point of naïveté. The wife, the wiser, calmer aspect, someone around whom one could build a home life. The third, the seductress, is sexually experienced and independent.

Roughly speaking, the characters in the trio correspond to:

The Ingenue: A naive, innocent, childlike girl who is just setting out into the world. In a Freudian Trio, this would be the Ego.
The Femme Fatale: A seductive, alluring, mysterious woman who is experienced in the ways of the world. Unlike the Vamp, she may or may not use her feminine wiles for evil. In a Freudian Trio, this would be the Id.
The Yamato Nadeshiko: A calm, steady, faithful wife, who provides the kind of marital stability and maternal strength that is ideal for settling down and raising a family. In a Freudian Trio, this would be the Superego.

You’d be surprised to see how often this trope shows up, even in works of science fiction. In Star Wars, Leia was the child in A New Hope, the wife/mother in Empire Strikes Back, and (what else?) the seductress in Return of the Jedi. Just about every Star Trek series featured some alignment of these archetypes.

Squaresoft played with this trope a lot in their Final Fantasy series, which may be illustrative to examine in greater depth. I’ve only played through FF IV, VI, VII, and Chrono Trigger, but each of these titles features some interesting variations (warning: spoilers!).

Final Fantasy IV: Porom (child), Rydia (seductress), Rosa (wife).

Porom is pretty solidly the child, though Rydia starts out as this and later grows up into the seductress role. She doesn’t get the guy in the end, though: that would be Rosa, who pretty much starts out with him as well.

In terms of story, the characters don’t really seem to build much on each other, though in terms of gameplay you definitely want to have Rydia and Rosa/Porom in your party (though not Rosa and Porom together–you only need one white mage, after all).

Final Fantasy VI: Relm (child) , Celes (seductress), Terra (wife).

This is my personal favorite in the series. Unlike IV and VII, which both center around male protagonists, Final Fantasy VI revolves around Terra (world of balance) and Celes (world of ruin) as the central protagonists. Because they also play a role in the power trio, their characters are quite complex, especially in the second half of the game. Relm is arguably more of a Mary Sue, but her relation to the other characters, especially Shadow, also makes her role more complex and interesting.

In the end, the romantic subplot is fulfilled by Celes, not Terra, which was something of a surprise to me in my first playthrough. It works really well, though, because of Celes’s heel face turn and subsequent reformation (in which Locke is arguably a Manic Pixie Dream Girl Spear Counterpart). Does that also translate into a shift from seductress to wife as well? I’m not sure, but I’d probably say no–after all, it’s Terra who takes on the mother role in the world of ruin.

Final Fantasy VII: Yuffie (child), Aeris (seductress), Tifa (wife).

The main twist with this one is that visually, you’d think Tifa is the seductress and Aeris is the wife. In terms of story archetypes, however, it’s just the opposite: Tifa is the one whom Cloud depends on, the one who helps him work through his problems, while Aeris is the shifty, mysterious one.

Unlike IV, where Rosa and Cecil are set up from the very beginning, for a while it actually looks like Aeris and Cloud are going to end up together. But then, in perhaps the most tragically gut-wrenching moment in all of video game history, Aeris dies (and doesn’t come back). Since Yuffie is kind of, well, crazy, Tifa and Cloud are pretty much garanteed to get together after that point (and as for Sephiroth…I don’t even want to go there).

Chrono Trigger: Marle (child), Ayla (seductress), Lucca (wife).

Chrono Trigger is interesting because the girl who ends up with the guy in the end (Chrono) is actually the one who fulfills the child archetype, Marle. It works, though, because of the childlike feel of the story. Unlike FF VI and IV, Chrono Trigger is not a dark or an edgy tale–it’s heartwarming innocence at its best. I always did feel that Lucca got the short end of the stick, though–but she did get a cameo in Xenogears, so perhaps the last laugh was hers after all.

Ah, Xenogears. <sigh>

Anyhow, long story short, the Three Faces of Eve power trio is a fascinating way to play with feminine archetypes. Recently, I’ve become quite interested in it because it showed up quite inadvertently in my current project, Heart of the Nebula. It’s funny how tropes can sneak up on you like that, especially some of the more archetypal ones.

Anyhow, in its current form the novel is a piece of trash, but now that I’ve recognized the potential to set up this particular power trio, I think I can really make it shine. If you have any insights, please share–I’m very interested in this trope right now!

მე ♥ ქუთაისი (I ♥ Kutaisi)

Medea Cafe & Bar, a popular expat hangout in downtown Kutaisi. It’s also something of a landmark because of the conspicuously English street sign.

That’s Georgian for “I ♥ Kutaisi.” Like the New York City ad campaign on which it’s based, it’s become a part of the local culture. You can see it on billboards, street signs, stickers, t-shirts–unlike the US, where it’s uncool to wear a band’s t-shirt at their own concert, everyone was wearing their “I ♥ Kutaisi” shirts at Kutaisoba last week.

So since I’ve been living here in Kutaisi for almost three months, I thought I’d give you all a virtual tour of the city–or at least the downtown area, since Kutaisi is really more like a very big village with a city in the middle. But that’s why I love it.

Our tour starts at the main marshrutka terminal downtown, Tsitelikhidi, or Red Bridge Station. The place is a wonderfully chaotic mess of taxis, buses, and marshrutkas, while their drivers pass the time by smoking cigarettes and yelling at each other. Old women wander around the crowds selling khatchapuri and lavash, while people are constantly coming and going. Interestingly enough, this is also where you can find one of the largest concentrations of apothekas (pharmacies) in the city.

I bought an earwax removal kit from this apotheka, along with a bulb syringe obviously meant for babies. The pharmacist thought that was hilarious.

For street performers in Kutaisi, the accordion is the instrument of choice.

The sidewalk leading away from the station leads into a long narrow corridor typical of most Georgian street markets, with stalls and vendors packing every available space. Here you can find cookies, ice cream, and cold drinks, both soft and hard; candles, religious icons, and other “souvenirs,” as the vendors like to call them; cheap plastic goods from China, wrapped in dusty plastic; freshly killed meat hanging from butcher’s windows; and all sorts of other random things. But as busy as this place seems, it’s nothing compared to the main marketplace.

I have no idea what’s all on this frieze, but it looks pretty cool. Also, bangs are very much in fashion.

This is actually a pretty good place to buy a belt.

The corridor opens up at the end of the block, to a tunnel which leads underneath the main road (Rustaveli, named after the great medieval Georgian writer) to Mirzani restaurant on the far side. At the mouth of the tunnel, tarps and blankets stretch haphazardly over vendors selling clothes, cheap shoes and cigarettes. Further down the tunnel, you can find more clothes, belts, brassieres, more shoes, and all sorts of fabrics.

We continue past an old building with a giant frieze, presumably depicting scenes from the history of the city. There’s a lot of history to choose from–Kutaisi was the capital of ancient Colchis, and a major regional center throughout the Middle Ages, when locally-born King David the Builder united all of Georgia, turning it into a “land between two seas.”

The candle-like stuff hanging from the top is churchkhela, strings of hazelnuts dipped in congealed grape extract. I assume the jars immediately beneath them contain wine.

Next, we take a left and promptly get lost in a giant bazaar. Here, you can find all sorts of fruits and vegetables, beef and chicken, bread and cheese, wine and beer–basically, anything that you would usually get from a grocery store in the US. Georgians have grocery stores too, but the bazaars are usually cheaper and fresher. Plus, they’re a whole lot more fun. I’ve heard that you can haggle with the vendors, though the prices are so low (1.5 GEL for a kilo of apples) that I’ve never felt a need.

Las Vegas casino. Gambling is big in Georgia.

The book market. If I could read Georgian, this is where I would spend most of my time.

We spend a little bit of time wandering around before going to the main city park. Heading up towards Jatchviskhidi, you can find all sorts of pawn shops, casinos, and money exchanging places, while near the library (at least, that’s what I think it is) there’s a mini-bazaar with all sorts of books. Of course, that’s one of my favorite places to check out!

Along Rustaveli Avenue, however, the city takes on a pleasant European feel, with attractive cobblestone streets, wide boulevards, and Napoleonic architecture. Here, you’ll find the opera house, the mayor’s mansion, and the central school (of 44 public schools citywide).

One of the many flower gardens in central park.

One thing Georgians (or at least, Kutaisians) know how to do right is their public parks.

Next we come to Bulvari, the main central park of Kutaisi. On a hot, muggy day, this is the perfect place to relax, with shady palm and pine trees, attractive public fountains, and plenty of benches to go around. Vendors sell balloons, candy, and ice cream, while at the center, old men with cheap plastic cars take children for a ride around the main circle.

The new fountain at the main square. Some TLGers think it looks kind of tacky, but I think it’s a pretty good attempt to capture some of Kutaisi’s ancient heritage. There’s certainly plenty to choose from.

The main city square is on the other side of the park, with the theater on the left, the banking district on the right, and a giant fountain in the center depicting replicas of ancient Colchian artifacts found in Imereti province. It’s one of the many interesting ways the city has been trying to reinvent itself since the end of the Soviet Union. The statue of David the Builder that once graced this square now stands in front of the train station, at the end of the boulevard that bears the same king’s name.

You can see the back of Mirzani’s across the river. It’s probably the best restaurant in town.

Tetrikhidi (White Bridge), with a wedding party posing for photos.

The Kutaisi gondola. I don’t know why, but Georgians seem to have a thing for gondolas.

Looping back around, we return to the Rioni river and the neighborhood immediately surrounding Tsitelikhidi. There are actually three bridges here: Tsitelikhidi (Red Bridge), Rustaveliskhidi (Rustaveli Bridge), and Tetrikhidi (White Bridge), a pedestrian bridge next to another attractive garden. From here, a gondola takes visitors over the river to an amusement park at the top of a hill. On the weekends, wedding parties often stop here to take pictures, then speed around the city honking their horns and making noise.

Close up of Bagrati. The reconstruction is actually progressing fairly rapidly.

Heading north, we pass through the markets again and cross over Jatchviskhidi (Chain Bridge) to the right bank of the Rioni. After passing another curbside station–this one for marshrutkas heading to the northern villages–we climb a 200 step staircase and find ourselves at the foot of Bagrati Cathedral.

Bagrati is a thousand year-old Georgian Orthodox church, the largest and most important in the city. After the Turks razed it in the 18th century, it lay in ruins for hundreds of years. But now, with Georgia’s newly-won independence and the economic boom fueled by the IMF and other foreign investors, the historic cathedral is under reconstruction. I probably won’t be here when it’s finished, but I definitely want to come back and see it when it is.

The view looking southwest. The mountains in the distance are the Lesser Caucasus, about 4000 meters above the elevation of the city.

View from the steps leading up to Bagrati. Kutaisi has a lot of churches.

Bagrati Cathedral sits on an imposing hill with a magnificent view of the whole city. Here, you get a sense of just how big Kutaisi really is. It’s not a tall city, or a particularly busy city, but compared to the rest of Georgia outside of Tbilisi, it’s pretty huge.

Unlike Tbilisi, however, the city has had very little exposure to the West. People still stop to stare curiously at foreigners, and hardly anyone speaks English. It’s much quieter than Tbilisi, too, with fewer cars, more parks, and lots of gardens and orchards, even in the more crowded districts. People live closer to the land, and travel often to the outlying villages where they still have friends and family.

Perhaps the best way to put it is that Kutaisi still possesses that sense of rustic Caucasian innocence that Tbilisi has since lost. You can hear it in the way people laugh and see it in the way they kiss and are kissed by their children. For a city that was legendary long before the maps showed America as a separate continent, that’s no small thing.

Up to my elbows in book surgery

That’s probably the best term for what I’m doing with Heart of the Nebula right now. Basically, I let some of my darlings live, and they grew some extra limbs and started drooling acid without my realizing it. But now, I’ve put enough distance between myself and the first draft that I have no qualms about grabbing the axe and chopping off heads.

Don’t worry; this is all a normal part of my creative process. Maybe someday, stories will burst fully formed from my head like Athena from the brow of Zeus, but for now, my ideas are a lot more like baby turtles–if I’m lucky, one or two out of a dozen will actually reach the water and survive. Protip: don’t follow the lights.

Speaking of ancient mythology, I’m reading the Argonautica right now, and I can’t help but notice that it would make a really, really, REALLY awesome science fiction story. No, seriously–think about it. A group of legendary heroes sets out on an epic voyage in search of some applied phlebotinum macguffin, have all sorts of adventures on strange and distant planets, get the girl to fall in love with the captain, and bring her back with them to their homeworld. It would also work well as a heroic fantasy, but space is so much more awesome.

Incidently, Kutaisi was the capital of ancient Colchis, where Jason and the Argonauts came seeking the golden fleece. People still speak of Medea as if she were a real person–generally, they think she was a dirty traitor who sold out her own people. But people still enjoy the love story, and if you keep your eyes open you can see restaurants and hotels named after her.

So yeah. Ancient Greek mythology + science fiction = win. You can definitely expect to see some more of that in my own writing in the future.

In other news, I recently did an interview on fellow indie author Ty Johnston’s blog. In it, I talk a little about my travel writing, what draws me to speculative fiction, my favorite number (hint: it’s 12), and my insights into the ancient Mayan calendar and the 2012 apocalypse. It was a lot of fun–you should definitely check it out.

If you would like to host me for an interview on your blog, shoot me an email! I’m always up for stuff like that. Otherwise, I’d better roll up my sleeves and get back to ~~hacking up~~ operating on my book.

Trope Tuesday: Hoist By His Own Petard

One of the most satisfying ways to defeat the villain is to have his own nefarious scheme bring about his downfall. In Hamlet, Shakespeare described this as “hoist by his own petard,” or blown up by his own bomb. Basically, it’s a self-deposing villain whose evil plans have gone horribly right.

Not only is this a delicious form of death by irony, it’s also a satisfying way to show cosmic justice in action while allowing the heroes to keep their hands clean. When done best, the villain keeps the tension notched up to eleven and only commits his fatal mistake after the heroes have made their last stand. Bonus points if the petard takes the form of a minion who decides to switch sides.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you’ll often find this trope in stories geared towards a younger audience, which generally try to avoid messy endings and shades of gray. In some ways, it almost resembles a Disney Villain Death, in that the heroes often come out with clean hands and an unambiguously clear conscience.

However, this isn’t always the case–sometimes, it’s precisely because of the shades of gray that the villain’s plans become self-defeating. Case in point, Pride and Kimblee from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. You’d think that both characters are totally evil–and perhaps they are–but that doesn’t stop the one from undermining the other at just the right moment.

When done right, this is an incredibly satisfying way to defeat a bad guy. When done poorly, however, it undermines the villain altogether, or turns the story into just another Aesop. As always, your mileage may vary, so when writing one of these stories it’s important to keep your audience in mind.

In my own books, it’s probably more common for this to happen to the heroes, which probably makes it a form of Two Rights Make A Wrong or Nice Job Breaking It, Hero. I do enjoy hoisting the villains as well, though, and will almost certainly use this trope in the future.

Life in Georgia is like a game of backgammon

Just another game of high stakes backgammon.

Everywhere I go, I see people playing ნარდი (“nardi”), known in English as backgammon. Men and women, children and the elderly–everyone knows how to play, and just about every family owns a backgammon set. It’s popular everywhere in Georgia, but it’s especially popular here in Kutaisi, where it’s not uncommon to see clusters of old men playing on the side of the street.

I recently played in a nardi tournament at my school. Long story short, I was massacred (I still want a rematch with the principal), but the experience got me thinking about how the game kind of parallels what life is like in Georgia. As a foreigner, I’m sure I don’t have a complete picture, but it’s an interesting way to look at things, and I don’t think it’s completely off base.

So anyways, here’s my theory on how life in Georgia is like a game of backgammon:

1: Everything is driven by chance.

In backgammon, every turn starts with a roll of the dice. Likewise, in Georgia, people tend to approach life like a game of chance. Good things happen, bad things happen, but you’re never totally in control of your own destiny. When your luck turns sour, the best thing you can do is just resign yourself to it until things get better.

One thing I’ve noticed about my host family is that they play the lottery almost every day. Even when they aren’t playing, they usually tune in to see the results, probably just from force of habit. I don’t know if every family is like this, but there are stands to buy lottery tickets in every major district of the city, and every kiosk sells them.

It’s not just the lottery, either–there are tons of casinos too. In fact, Georgia is a very popular tourist destination for Israelis simply because of all the gambling. That doesn’t mean that everyone in the country is a hardcore gambler, though–but if life is ultimately a game of chance, you might as well put a line or two in the water, right?

2: Skill is the ability to manipulate chance in your favor.

Even though backgammon is essentially a game of chance, there’s a lot of strategy to it too. The key is to maximize your own options while limiting the options of your opponent. It’s all about knowing when to move aggressively, and when to protect your own interests.

Likewise, even though Georgians put a lot of trust in luck, they also know that it’s better to make your own luck than to wait for luck to find you. While my host family does spend a little bit on the lottery, they spend a lot more on physical improvements and their kids’ education. My host dad works until 8pm every night, sometimes later. They aren’t rich, but they’re taking advantage of opportunities their parents didn’t have, and making sure their children have more opportunities than they did.

3: No amount of skill can change the established pattern.

There’s not a whole lot of variation in backgammon. Every game starts with the same setup, and follows the same general pattern: block your opponent while doing your best to advance. Once your last piece passes your opponent’s last piece, it becomes a race to see who can get all their pieces home first. Short of changing the rules, there’s really no way to break the game.

Likewise, life in Georgia is still very much about tradition. If you were born in Kutaisi, you’ll probably die in Kutaisi. If your parents are Orthodox, then that’s what you are, too. If you’re a woman, you live under a certain set of restrictions and expectations. Likewise, if you’re a man, there are certain things you’re expected to do to prove your manhood.

No matter how much Georgia changes to become part of the modern world, it’s an ancient country with a very, very long memory. Most social norms aren’t going to change overnight, and some of them probably won’t change at all. While this might seem incredibly stifling to us in the West, it does have its advantages, such as offering everyone a sense of identity and giving them a place where they know that they belong.

So that’s my theory. I don’t know if this is why backgammon resonates so much with the people here, but it’s a fun way to look at it. Now I just need to figure out which game is the most like life in the US. Poker? Monopoly? Dungeons & Dragons?

Trope Tuesday: The Cavalry

Things look bleak: the Big Bad is on the verge of conquering the world, and the heroes have gathered for one last stand. Just when it looks like all hope is lost, a horn sounds in the distance, and the cavalry arrive to save the day. Whether a ragtag bunch of minor characters, an army of unlikely heroes, or the ultra-heroic Eagle Squadron, the timely reinforcements use their overwhelming force to crush the villains and save the day.

When done right, this trope can be one of the defining moments of greatness of the entire work. When done wrong, however, it becomes little more than a Deus Ex Machina of the most unsatisfying kind. How, then, can this moment be done right?

As with any Deus Ex, one of the keys is to adequately foreshadow the end. This often takes the form of Gondor Calls For Aid, when the heroes petition the cavalry for assistance before going into battle. To make things interesting, the relationship between the two parties is often complicated and ambiguous, making it doubtable that the cavalry will actually show up.

However, I think it goes deeper than this. In order for the arrival of the cavalry to be satisfying, it needs to not invalidate everything that the heroes have already gone through. If the cavalry shows up after the heroes have defeated the Big Bad, and essentially rescue them from a heroic sacrifice, that’s satisfying. If the heroes are still fighting the Big Bad and the cavalry comes out of nowhere to hand them an unearned victory, that’s cheap.

In English 318R, Brandon Sanderson often used the film versions of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy to illustrate this. The Battle of Helm’s Deep was satisfying, because the entire premise was to hold out until the third day. When Eomer arrived with the Rohirrim on the morning of the third day and swept away the Uruk-Hai, that didn’t invalidate King Theoden’s efforts because all he was trying to do was survive.

In the Battle of Minas Tirith, however, Aragorn’s arrival with the unbeatable army of the dead was kind of cheap, because the premise was to defeat the orcs, not to hold out for reinforcements. Gondor could have just stood down and let the orc army capture the city, and they still would have won in the end.

The two genres where you’re most likely to see this trope are westerns (trope namer) and heroic fantasy. Just about every David Gemmell novel involves a cavalry moment of some kind, and I looove it. It’s also quite common in military science fiction, too–basically, any story where war is a major part of the narrative.

The variations on this trope are also quite fascinating. For example:

Cavalry Betrayal: When the cavalry switch sides in the final battle, utterly crushing all hope of victory.
The Cavalry Arrives Late: When the heroes defeat the bad guys on their own, and the cavalry cleans up the mess.
Come with Me If You Want to Live: When the cavalry rescue the heroes from danger midway through the story.
Cavalry Refusal: When the only ones who could save the heroes refuse to do so.
Redshirt Army: When the cavalry is utterly useless.
Bolivian Army Ending: When everything goes terribly, horribly wrong.

Managing time and mental space in a foreign country

Some of you asked for a writing update, so I figure I might as well do a quick post on my current projects and where they are. I’ve also been experimenting with my daily schedule a bit, so it would probably be good to blog about that as well.

Right now, the main project taking up all of my attention is the 3.0 draft of Heart of the Nebula. It’s a direct sequel to Bringing Stella Home, and continues the story from James McCoy’s point of view, five years later. I’m making a lot of changes, toning down the romantic subplot and emphasizing the more interesting social and ethical issues. When I’m through, I think it will be completely different from the first couple of drafts, but in a way that’s truer to the spirit of the first book.

I’ve only been managing about 500 to 1,500 words per day, though, which is abysmally low compared to my usual word count. Part of that is because I’m throwing out entire sections and drafting new ones from scratch, but the more significant part is that I don’t have as much mental space for writing as I did back in the States.

Basically, moving to a foreign country and starting a new career has taken a lot more out of me than I thought it would. I teach 18 lessons per week, some with as many as 30 or 35 kids, across grades 1 through 12. Culturally, everything is completely different too. So far, the shock hasn’t been too bad–I really love it out here in Georgia–but it’s made the writing a little bit more difficult than I’d expected.

I have a lot of free time, though, so that’s not a problem: the problem is clearing my mind and keeping the creative juices fresh. Here’s how I’m going to do it:

Limit internet time. As tempting as it is to turn to the familiarity of the internet, it’s a huge time-suck and doesn’t really do anything for the culture shock. A much better thing for that would be to spend more time reading. From now on, I’m going to limit myself to one internet session per day, no longer than 2 hours (more if there’s something I actually need to do).
Get out more. I get cabin fever very easily, and it’s only gotten worse now that I’m in a foreign culture. Fortunately, there are tons of places to explore, and in my local neighborhood I’m kind of a celebrity (hey look, it’s the American! Let’s chase him and shout ‘hello’!). The prime time for this is the late afternoon, when everyone’s out and things are still open. If I check the internet right after school and get out immediately after, I think that will help me better to focus.
Get up early to write in the morning. I tried this last week, and it was a great way to get focused and build more momentum. Even if I only manage a couple hundred word, it gets me thinking about the story for the rest of the day, which makes it easier to pick up in the afternoon and evening.

So that’s the plan for now. My goal is to finish Heart of the Nebula before the end of May, which is going to require a significant change of pace. It should be pretty straightforward, though, and after this draft it shouldn’t need too many more revisions before it’s ready to publish. If all goes well, I foresee a publishing date sometime in the fall or winter.

Do you have any other ideas for ways to manage creativity in a totally foreign culture? If so, I’d love to hear it–that’s my biggest struggle right now.

“On hold” with WOTF

I have some interesting news. My first quarter submission to the Writers of the Future contest has been put “on hold,” following the untimely passing of the contest’s coordinating judge, K.D. Wentworth. Here’s the email I received this morning:

Dear Entrant,

I wanted to let you know that we have a delay in the handling of the 1st quarter due to the loss of our coordinating judge, K.D. Wentworth to cancer last week. Please bare with us while we get over this difficult time and organize the continuance of the contest. We do have another judge that is taking over and will make that annoucement soon.

Your story was placed in the hold category while K.D. was reading the hard copy submissions. You will be notified in the next month where you stand.

I’m sure you can understand the delay and thank you for being patient.

Best,

Joni Labaqui- Contest Director

From what I understand, this means that K.D. read my story and didn’t assign it a rejection or honorable mention, but put it in a pile of stories to read leader. It’s possible, of course, that the story could still receive a flat rejection, but it appears that most of the rejections have already gone out, so that’s probably unlikely.

The story I submitted is the first part of a novel which I hope to publish as soon as I hear back from the contest. If it wins or makes published finalist, however, those plans might be put on hold. I’ll let you know more as it happens.

If I do win, I’ll probably end up spending all the prize money just to come back to the States to accept the award. My Georgian co-teachers think that’s hilarious.

Easter in Trabzon

Orthodox Easter is April 15th, and in Georgia, most places take off four or five days for vacation. In typical Georgian fashion, we didn’t know for sure how many days we had off until a couple of weeks before the break came up, but fortunately that was time enough to find out where some of the other TLGers in Kutaisi were going and tag along with them.

Our group consisted mostly of TLGers and embassy staff from Tbilisi, friends of my friends in Kutaisi who came out at the same time last year. For 300 GEL (about $185 USD), we got a private marshrutka and tour guide for four days, 3- and 4-star hotels each night, breakfast and dinner, and tickets to some of the more interesting sights between Reza and Trabzon. Multiple entry visas were $20 USD each, and the exchange rate in Turkey was quite favorable.

We met up at the McDonalds on Tchavtchavadze Street at noon and went up to see Motsameta Monastery. In spite of the fact that it’s so close to Kutaisi, this was my first time going up there, and I must say I was quite impressed! The monastery is situated on the top of an imposing cliff where the Tsqaltsiteli River makes a sharp bend. The English translation of the river is “red water,” named for the two Christian martyrs who were executed on the site of the monastery by the Muslims shortly after their conquest of the region.

Some priests hanging out by the chapel on Easter Sunday.

Detail on the door handles to the monastery chapel. Georgians take their grapes quite seriously.

I spent most of the vacation relaxing, so I didn’t take many spectacular photos. But Motsameta was really fantastic–I’ll have to go back sometime to do it justice. There’s a forest trail that goes between Motsameta and Gelati Monastery, where David the Builder is buried, and I’d like to hike that before I come back to the states.

Next, we drove down to Batumi on the Black Sea, where we spent some time wandering the Botanical Gardens. It’s a really nice place, with trees and plants from all over the world right up against the seashore. Very peaceful. It’s pretty big, though–I walked for almost an hour along the main road without getting to the end. And of course, there are many places along the way where you can stop and wander around for a while.

The Black Sea, visible through the trees of the Batumi Botanical Garden.

Some red and white rose bushes. There are tons of flowering plants in the gardens, so spring is a really great time to see the place.

A small spring in the middle of the Batumi Botanical Gardens. There are springs like this scattered across Georgia.

Batumi is an interesting place–not as big a city as Kutaisi, but with more money, hotels, casinos, and resorts. It’s right on the Black Sea, but the snow-capped mountains of the Lesser Caucasus range are right behind it, so you’ve got a big mix of climates and landscapes all within a short drive.

The other TLGers were impressed to see that the roads are actually paved–apparently, there’s been a lot of construction in the past year or so. It’s not completely finished, but walking around downtown is quite pleasant. We hunted for ice cream and eventually settled on a smoke-filled cafe on some random street corner. Good times.

We spent the next morning crossing the border, a process that was surprisingly disorganized. The system on the Georgian side was pretty straightforward, but on the Turkish side we had to wait on the curb for a long time, with giant eighteen-wheelers driving past us and the sun beating down. It wasn’t too bad, though–definitely not worse than the Allenby crossing.

We drove for an hour, stopped in Reza for tea and lunch, then went on along the seashore to Trabzon. In Reza, I stood at the edge of a garden overlooking the city when the call to prayer started up. It brought back a lot of fond memories. 🙂 Turkey is definitely a Muslim country, with mosques everywhere, pencil minarets dotting the cityscape like steeples, and women dressed in colorful hijabs.

Interior of the Little Haggia Sophia at Trabzon. It’s a pretty modest sized basilica, now a “museum” which basically means it’s not used for religious services. It needs renovation.

Compared to Kutaisi, Trabzon is a large and well-developed city. The downtown marketplace was packed, but the streets were well-paved, the shops were quite nice, there weren’t any beggars and basic amenities weren’t hard to find. Almost no-one spoke English, which made communication difficult since I don’t speak any Turkish, but it was surprisingly easy to make friends. We stopped for lunch at one place, and after a very difficult time trying to explain that we didn’t want any meat in our sandwiches (most of the girls in our group were vegetarian), the restaurant owner actually let us eat for free!

Some of the other volunteers had asked that we go to an American style mall, so we spent a few hours there before going to the hotel. I must confess, I was bored out of my mind. Nothing but clothes stores and Turkish fast food restaurants–it was identical to an American mall in almost every way. I suppose that that’s why the others wanted to go there–after spending a year in Georgia, they probably craved someplace that feels like home. But I’m not there yet, so that particular excursion was kind of boring.

The next day, we went up to Sumela Monastery in the mountains, and from there to Lake Uzungol. The monastery was quite cool, because it’s perched literally on the side of a cliff, almost 500 meters above the valley floor. Unfortunately, the friezes and other artwork was quite damaged, so I didn’t feel compelled to take many pictures, but it was fun to hike up there and see the view. A bunch of Turks laughed at the way I ran up the path, and the fountain at the top had some FREEZING cold mountain runoff. It was a lot of fun.

Sumela Monastery from the top of the canyon. The surrounding countryside is absolutely gorgeous.

Inside the monastery complex itself. Many of the buildings are new additions, but there are some original structures.

At the lake, I bought a piece of Turkish silverware for my host mom that ended up being a huge hit. A lot of the shops were really touristy, but it was fun anyway and the landscape was quite beautiful. Reminded me a bit of Colorado. We stayed in a mountain cabin and the bedsheets smelled like cigarettes, but otherwise it was quite comfortable.

Adjaruli khatchapuri. If you eat this every day, you will have a short and happy life.

On the way back, we stopped in Batumi for dinner and had Adjaruli khatchapuri. Khatchapuri is the main Georgian go-to food–it’s basically cheesy bread with a thick, doughy crust. In Adjara, though, they take it a couple of steps further.

Immediately after taking the bread out of the oven, they crack an egg in the center, which gets cooked a little by the heat but otherwise remains raw. They then take a huge slab of butter and plop it right in the center of the yolk, where it melts in and gets everywhere. To eat it, you stir the egg around and work your way inward from the crust, dipping the bread in the molten gooey center. Between the cheese, the egg, the butter, and the bread, you get a pretty heavy meal–delicious, but heavy.

After that, we took to the road again, talking about all sorts of stuff and having a generally good time. Our tour guide was a great guy, and we had a lot of fun racking his brain. The other lady from the company was quite delightful, and talked with me a lot about Racha, growing up in Kutaisi, her experiences living in the Persian Gulf, etc. It was a long ride, but it went by pretty fast, and we pulled into Kutaisi around 9pm.

All in all, a fun, relaxing vacation, and a good chance to get out and see a little more in this part of the world. Turkey was nice, but I have to admit, I felt a bit like I was coming home when we crossed the border back into Georgia. It’s not as clean or developed, but it’s got a feel to it that isn’t quite like anything else. I like it.

Trope Tuesday postponed again

Sorry, but no Trope Tuesday post this week. Long story short, more internet problems–I’m blogging right now from the McDonald’s on Tch’avtch’avadze Street. Since my battery’s running out, this is going to have to be a quick post.

I suppose I should ask, though: what tropes do you want me to cover in the future? I’m open to pretty much anything, as long as it’s got a tvtropes page. Together, we can ~~enable our addictions~~ have some productive story research.

In other news, I finished part III of Star Wanderers, and I’m putting that project on hold for a while. Writing a novel in serial parts is proving to be a lot more difficult than writing it straight. Not only do I hit a wall at the 2/3rds mark, but I have difficulty moving on to the next part until the part before it is free of major problems. Because I have to take a break and distance myself before I can really address those problems, I think it will be better to move on to something else.

On the upside, it only takes two or three weeks to knock out each draft, so I’m not too concerned about finishing this project before the end of the year. Part I is already set to go, and Part II just needs some vetting before I feel it’s ready. If you’re one of my first readers and you’re up for a quick novella-sized work, let me know.

That’s about all for now. I also signed up to do a couple of blog interviews, so those should be up in a couple of weeks. And I’ve also got some more posts coming about Georgia and Turkey, so that should be interesting. Stay tuned!