Writers: On The Risk of, Maybe Packing Too Much Into A Project

After the sixteenth (or was it the seventeenth?) attempt at launching a new project there was a great temptation to indulge in the traditional Indy / Indie writer’s angst of episodic lamentations and cries of ‘ What is the point of it all’ and thence gloomy introspection.

Hamlet 1

However, it is also the curse / blessing within the Indy / Indie writer to be a’fix(ed) with the urge and need to keep on writing, and seek ever beyond the horizon fulfilment of that next, and in my case evasive big project. There’s six of the efforts marking up to roughly 100,000 words which are still archived in case there’s a need to ‘Copy & Paste’ useful chunks. And there is a new one which is tottering on the launch pad. You would think that with a pretty strong World Build there would be no shortage of material, inspiration and plot lines, so how come just ‘Might Have Beens’?

win_20210522_11_00_43_pro…Ponder….ponder…..ponder

On referring back to the previous trilogy….

It occurred to me amongst the total of 660,000 + words, aside from the traditional World Build, adventurous quests or tasks, conflicts and challenges set to three strong characters, the array of minor and not so minor characters with their own tales to tell there were a great deal of other themes and sub-plots which had found their ways in. Out of this grew the comic interludes, satires on common themes in fantasy novels, whole commentaries on various cultures and locations, parodies on traditional villain types, parallel realities, romances, personal sacrifices, allegories with various historical military blunders, the construction of an imperial administration and its agencies, threads which went in various directions and managed to tie up, entire family lives, one rather massive risk of a plot twist and a small tough ragged horse which travelled through realities without any explanation given. Along with some other stuff to do with lesser characters just put in because I felt like it suited the whole canvas, like my predilection to weave in John LeCarre style machinations of various government agencies simply for atmosphere.    

 And dear reader one has to ask ones’ self as you might. Was all of that necessary? In my defence, at the time it seemed so. When reading / listening to my favourite subject of military history as must be the case with other historical studies, there is encountered the factor of the importance of the small folk, not the Great and Influential, for without the small folk what would the Great and Influential achieve? Then there is the ‘Grit In The Machine’ factor which in the way of many a Grand Strategy, the overlooked seemingly inconsequential yet important item, the events of the second book hinged on such a quantity. These had, I reckoned, to be taken into account. And also how the events affected folks’ lives, motivations and own plans. Of course all and everything was necessary and fitted.

The problem with ‘Of Course’s being one might fit one type of book, ie factual history but might not work in a fictional setting, and that most important of persons, the reader could lose interest and particularly in Heroic Fantasy be looking for more dramatic interludes linking into one magnificent conclusion. Maybe.

I could of course cite the works of David Gemmel who would take minor and sometimes grimy characters and through the narrative elevate them, often against their will to major players. Brandon Sanderson and Joe Abercrombie are of the type of writer who populate their books with large lists of lesser characters who come and go through the narrative, sometimes returning when you least expect them and playing for maybe only a short while a vital role. They, Abercrombie in particular do not go in for Happy or Cleanly Ethical endings, which can be argued are most realistic. Me, I do veer towards clean, just and tidy endings, and the intention to do so without a Deux Machina (or several) might, just might have had an effect upon the whole narrative, for whereas I only had the haziest of ideas about the rest of the narrative that sort of ending  was a given. 

I could stand by all those decisions and maintain them by the dogged outlook beloved of a more stubborn sort of Indy / Indie writer summed up as ‘So what? If you don’t like It…Tough. It’s My Book’ . Somehow that might be avoiding the issue.

Is the reason why a new project is not taking off, because I have used up all my good ideas, scenarios, situations, themes and sub-plots? And will anything else be just repetition? There is an ‘Of Course’ there too. Since my work to date has had little to no success and in consequence a double edged truth would be; ‘Who would notice? Or care?’ . Now where that ties in with or contradicts the previous ‘So what? If you don’t like It…Tough. It’s My Book’ is another topic for debate. 

Thus having paused to muse over the whole business while doing my turn at the washing up and washing loading duties, I was left to conclude…… Was I taking ‘pantsing’ too far? Should I have laid out all of the ideas which came to mind and put some to one side for another day? Should I have edited the books into shorter volumes and instead of three weighty tomes have had six, or seven, or eight smaller volumes and attracted an audience who prefer shorter books with cliff-hangers? Did I cram far too much in. Truth be known from time to time the thought of dismantling all three, starting from scratch and taking that approach has occured….But…Ah me, the effort, seemed too much were I say thirty years younger…..

My advice then for anyone starting out, is by all means dive in and rattle away, letting your ideas flow like rivers, and the first drafts (there are always several) be a hodge-podges of all sorts of stuff, but then maybe step back and consider whether there is more than one book there, or maybe there should be more than one book there, which in turn will lead to more books.   

Maybe it is the genre…Fantasy…. Maybe we all would like to be a Tolkien and feel we have out own private Lord of The Rings simmering away. Maybe we should not give way to that lure. I can’t comment on Martin’s Ice and Fire series, they never appealed to me, but I would guess the same sort of conclusion would apply.

Anyway, the muses are tugging, the collection of characters might well have the inclination to nag at me to get going and shove a whole lot of their own ideas onto my table. Who knows, maybe this time I will get past the 75,000 word barrier and start to really once more have fun writing, and perhaps a bit of restraint?

Who can tell what lies beyond the next paragraph? 

A Suitable Horizon -November #BlogBattle- Cemetery

Cemetry

Foreword: Never waste a good World Build, I say. If you have read previous of my entries to Gary’s site then some names and places might seem familiar, all part one piece of Creation. Links to some other associated tales shown at the end of this one….

          The wind chilled and ceaseless whispered across the plane drawing up eddies of harsh small grained sands into waves which when catching anyone stung the skin and assailed eyes, nostrils and mouth. Only in the distance did there seem to be some promise of shelter, those tall, plain and blue grey hills. Surely they would have proper cover, rocks, caves, and things like that. Somewhere to hide from the harsh light of a cold sun.
          Here on the plane, there were only patches of stonework implanted and through the administrations of the constant wind at odd angles, some having given in and now lay flat.

          He could not recall how he had arrived here, so far from the lush green of his favoured country estate. The journey had started out with a simple afternoon stroll to give one an appetite before dinner. There were bits and pieces of memory of a sudden heavy downpour, confusing him in the noise and overwhelming deluge, amongst the slipping and slithering he had thought he was journeying back to his manse, somewhere though in the growing mud he had tumbled into a ditch, of great depth to end up here, standing, looking, feeling the sting of the sand. With no seeming option he stumbled to the hills.

          The stones being flat and of various curvatures indicated design, with very faint markings indicating script. At another more fortunate time he might have studied these, this however was no occasion for such indulgences. He stepped on.

          As he neared one particular tall stone, he saw, the unmistakeable sight of a booted foot, idly flipping back and forth, encouraged he took up his pace, drawing closer he could discern a soft singing although in an unfamiliar accent, thus the words unclear.
          ‘I say,’ he called out ‘I say,’
          The foot stopped and a woman peaked around the stone, her face albeit weather beaten and bearing some lines indicated a continuing fairness of features, bright blue eyes sparkling, strands of blonde hair paling with age wafting in the wind. She waved in a tiny lady-like manner. Tipping one finger to the battered brim of a functional hat.
          ‘Hey, y’all. Welcome,’
          And rose fully into view, absently dusting sand off of travel hardened clothing befitting, he thought, some person of the roads and byways.
          ‘Welcome?’ he quested, uncertain as to just what that boded. The place was hardly a domain to instil feelings of ease and comfort. And the woman’s continuing bright smile was giving him unease.
          ‘Yes,’ she drawled out the word, he detected a delight, his stomach lurched. ‘Now my manners. Introductions, Ah am Captain Arketre Beritt of the Imperial LifeGuard, an’ being semi-retired, on a detached duty workin’ with folks whose identities are somewhat elusive. Still, orders are orders, an’ they are affable enough, well to me that is. Ah’m here to expound the situation,’ she paused the smile taking on the hint of a leer ‘To clarify matters,’
          His response came out as mostly stammer but with a measure of bluster.
          ‘Just what do you mean? I demand clarification. Have I been kidnapped? You should know I am Lord Halbrodol, with connections at the Imperial Court. I have stood as one of the thirty Ceremonial Witnesses at the Emperor’s side as he proclaimed an Imperial Judgment. On no less than four occasions. Explain yourself,’
          ‘Halbrodol,’ was her response with fore finger and thumb bracketing chin and eyes fixed on an indeterminate point ‘Halbrodol,’ she repeated to herself adding ‘Should have asked earlier o’course,’ and quite deaf to his subsequent outbursts continued with a murmured internal discourse, ceasing with a stap of the fingers. ‘Of the House Gouner. Yeah that’s it. You and your cousin were riding around with Duke Vydrak at Seige of Pradelch, not doin’ much as Ah recall, just posing and sayin’ yes to folk in a higher rank,’ she squinted ‘An’ then a few years down the road you turned up thankfully late for the Battle of Yermetz , one of the strutters and poseurs, Ah had to punch one of them for bein’ disrespectful to my regiment. Yeah House Gouner, always snufflin’ about for profit or doing little or nothin’ for the folks on the land you owned or kept orderly for higher-ups,’ she tapped the brim of her hat ‘LifeGuard has files on the little scavengers like your family, just in case your started getting’ big ideas. But you folk never do. Do you? Part of the supports,’ she stopped, squinted at him again ‘What the High Holy y’all been splutterin’ an’ fussin’ about. An’t y’all realised yet, you’re less than the sand grains here abouts?’
          ‘Did you not hear what I said?’
          She threw back her head letting out a harsh bark of a laugh, enraged he lunged at her, she side stepped, tripping him up in the act, his head striking the stone she had been sitting behind, leaving him whimpering. She continued.
          ‘No Ah did not. Since you have not got the common sense to ask me the Whys, Hows and Wherefores what got you here, let me explain to you. Somewhere along the way you died, how Ah care not, or mebbe y’all got sucked up by forces, again Ah care not. And not you are here,’
          Her voice was cold, the flippant mockery gone and he had not noticed those lines on her face, the sort which when he had seen them on men at social gatherings he had distanced himself from the fellows. Nonetheless in this current circumstance of continuing confusion and doubt he could not still his voice.
          ‘I have done nothing wrong,’
          ‘Was waiting for that. As Ah see it the Ethereal and Afterlife get all mixed up, mah wife knows more about it. Anyways there’s heavy symbolism here, y’see the stones,’ she turned hand sweeping in one gesture ‘What do they remind you of then?’
          Having been introduced the possibility of death, prodded by question a stark, draining realisation came upon him.
          ‘Tomb Memorials,’
          ‘That’s right. Memorials to all those duties and responsibilities you shirked, forgot about or did not just think whether you had them,’ she gestured to the front of the stone, bidding him forwards; as much as he was already loathing her mocking or dismissively judgemental way, he could do naught but obey; here in this horrid place.
          At the front she was crouched, with gloved hand brushing away the thin smear of sand.
          ‘See? Peer deeper and y’ll make out the faintness of writing. Look here, the name of the village where everyone was drowned or caste out onto the cold winter’s road when the flood came along the river you were asked to have dredged. See here the list of the folk who suffered a famine in the subsequence for loss of stores. All while you were away partyin’ and entertainin’,’ one finger pointed at him ‘All on you. Come hither,’
          Despite his feeling this was not his fault he was drawn, as if a halter about his neck to a small stone and which she knelt and by one beckoning gesture pulled him closer until he was kneeling even closer.
          ‘You can’t see, but you can hear. Can’t y’? Small weeping sounds of orphans beaten, abused and taken as slaves, all within your jurisdiction. One you could not be bothered to look into. You just wrote off your officials had inspected and not taken bribes. Not even made the effort to take your own slice of the bribes. Signed off not bothering. You had princes to fawn before,’
          Thin cries and screams cut into his ears as small knives, his fists would not block them
          Unable to break the chain of judgment he was pulled to a broken memorial, jagged and pitted.
          ‘This bears witness small dispute between two communities over lands. Words lead to blows, which in turned to farm tools being used as weaponry, farms burnt, livestock and folk slain. The local sheriff asked for help, but you took advice to let it burn itself out and take hold of the land for your own,’
          The smell of burnt wood, roasted flesh mixed with more hideous sounds, at an urging to block his senses with the sands he crammed handfuls into his mouth, nose and ears, to no avail. All under the cold gaze of the captain.
          ‘That don’t work here lord. These sands are not as compliant as your past pleasures. All gone now,’
          ‘What could have I done,’ he pleaded sands burning into his bent knees ‘I was but a mere lord. I had no influence,’
          The captain leaned over the ruined tombstone, silhouetted against the sharp glare of the sun.
          ‘Y’all could have at least cared,’ she growled ‘You carried more abilities to take some actions, not like all those remembered here. They looked and hoped for some assistance,’ the coldness gave way to a growing anger ‘You might not have pressed them hard, directly exploited them, you might not have waged war on them or sold them to others. You did damn all though and by accounting of ledgers of Life, Misery and Death, that still puts you on the debit side. Doesn’t fit you into one of the Five Hells. Puts you here instead. In the place where you get to reflect. Take a look. A good look,’ 
          ‘A good look,’

          The words echoed, the images turned from letter to faces, questioning and gaunt, accusing and bitter tear stained, each sight a claw to his being. He cried out in pain and staggered back, tripped over a fallen stone, upon which lists of names in five columns marked the passing of many innocents, his face fell into hot, biting sand, the sun’s unrelenting heat upon his face. One piece of relief, her shadow over him.
          No relief from the voice though.
          ‘That’s all Ah have to tell you M’Lord. Welcome to your new home,’
          And she crouched by him again, a whisper like a blade.
          ‘Don’t try and spend your energies trying to get to those hills. They are a lot longer away than y’d guess. And anyway what lurks up there. They’s worse than being out here. It’s not so bad. Y’all not be alone. Once you get used to it, y’ll see shadows of folk like you wandering about their own patch of Retribution. Misery shared, apparently is a misery halved. Enough of you here abouts to minimise it to just a very bad itch or a running sore,’
          She roughly patted his back.

          He looked up.
          She was gone.
          And he?
          He hoped he would go insane, at some stage and lose his senses.

          ‘Hey Kitlin. Ah’m back,’
          Her tall dark haired wife embraced her, The Captain relished the comfort.
          ‘How was it darling Flaxi?’
          ‘Going’ there regular don’t make it easier. An’ Ah keep meeting these other folk about similar businesses. Like this dead hero, who now goes about helping goodly folk near death to go one way or another. It’s a crowded place beyond this world. Makes you appreciate what y’all have,’
          ‘Aye. Truly. But to cheerful things. I managed to master steak pie for supper. Mistress Whtly’s recipe. Wash your hands. Sit down and tell me all about it, and I’ll do the rationalising for you. I keep telling you there’s more to that Ethereal and Afterlives than we reckon,’
          ‘Rationalising Ah could do with. This tour of duty is makin’ me fret about Death,’
          A hand grasped hers and stroked it.
          ‘You, my love, care about ordinary folk. That goes a long way,’
               Beritt thought those words would be suitable for her tombstone memorial.

Dreams and Duties #Blog Battle : May – Revest

Those Jagged Remedies (June#BlogBattle-Scar)

More Than Faith October #BlogBattle-Dream

Mischief as a Therapy (A possible series of irregular musings) Pt 1

cartoon-boy-doing-a-happy-dance-by-toonaday-6279

There have been, and will continue to be many worthy commentaries, blog posts, social media memes and essays lamenting the domination by the Republicans. The problem being that no matter how much erudition, rationale or passion demonstrated in these, those grass roots Republicans who have supported Trump in the face of all evidence will simply laugh, jeer and mock. And the rest will go into denial….for a year or so anyway.

So what’s a good liberal, democrat and the rest of the coalition of to do? Obviously continue with your good works, campaigning and opposition, yes for this is no time to give up, in fact the opposite. However……

(Read the rest in a whispered voice )Furtive  

You do need some lightness too. What’s wrong with little mischief? Just to annoy those who have set their nation on the same course the Titanic took. I mean nothing really mean and vociferous, just enough to make them go Yosemite Sam   

 

Something to drop into one of their rambling posts, or on their social media Hoo-Hah sites, or even on your own if you have a varied following. A modest disturbing of their morning breakfast cereal as it were.

For instance, during the campaign I read a lot of tosh from various of The Pack about Socialism and Socialists which demonstrated they knew as much about the whole topic as most of them do about Climate Change. Rather than try and talk to that brick wall give them a taste of the ‘real stuff’, with no commentary, just leave it around. This one should spill the cereal:  

Plus this Wiki-link
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Which_Side_Are_You_On%3F

And walk away.

No it won’t change any minds….but you have to admit, your snigger level might go up to 11

Be creatively mischievous folks. It will help see you through these times…you deserve a little indulgence 

11th November A Day For Reflection

Normandy (2)

Veterans Day (USA) and Remembrance Day (UK) 11th November 2024. We think of WWI and WWII, then it follows- those who died, were injured and took scars in the decades following. There will have been and will be many reflections and tributes. I will restrict myself to images:

D day omaha_beachD Day sword-beach-d-day-wounded

D day germanEyewitnessWWII-03._V389839563_21st USA Army Iraq

Stuck In The Mud

Slog

British Soldiers WWII b

Korean War 1

Image #: 78084 Korean War – A greif stricken American infantryman whose comrade has been killed in action is comforted by another soldier. In the background, a corpsman completes information on the casualty tags. /Landov

Vietnam 1 Vietnam

Wounded British Soldiers.

Somme

Stalingrad Those who were wrapped up in lies (German soliders Stalingrad)

Stalingrad 2

And still that goes on:

Russian dead Ukraine 2 Russian soldiers Ukraine 2024

And on the other side, defending their nation in the long, long war…. Ukrainians 

Ukranian Solider 

Ukranian Soldier 2

And the songs….

And ‘Flowers of the Forest’ originated in Scotland now a national tune and song of Lament Isla St Clair sings in Scots, but the message is easy enough to understand.

For more information on the song:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flowers_of_the_Forest

And there is the timeless poem Tommy by Kipling which applies to many soldier who has come home on leave or for good when the shooting has died down or been forgotten:

https://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/poem/poems_tommy.htm

Remember from time to time the guns may cease on the battlefields, but they never stop in the heads of those who were there.

Veterans 3 

Veterans 2

Veterans 1

Veterans 4

And there are more….

When All Seems Lost….Hope Does Not Go away… (a post from an earlier time)

daughters-fire-back-ground

I wrote this on the 7th March 2022 when matters were grim enough, and now aware how much many of my good friends in the USA must be hurting, am drawn to repost it. (Incidentally that image. That’s Hope in a tough and defiant mood. For Hope will show its Fire)

Original Post:

I Ask Of You A Difficult Task

Truth be known. Some might think this as two tasks. Some might feel the source material and sentiments are not appropriate. Stay with me though.

Firstly I would ask you to read the following Russian (there’s the current trigger word) WWII poem by writer and war correspondent Konstantin Simonov, written in 1941 to actress Velentina Serova. The moving work was carried by many USSR soldiers, wrapped with a picture of their wife or girlfriend, it became an unofficial icon, a means of coping, a hope the bearer would survive.

Wait for Me

Wait for me, and I’ll come back!
Wait with all you’ve got!
Wait, when dreary yellow rains
Tell you, you should not.
Wait when snow is falling fast,
Wait when summer’s hot,
Wait when yesterdays are past,
Others are forgot.
Wait, when from that far-off place,
Letters don’t arrive.
Wait, when those with whom you wait
Doubt if I’m alive.

Wait for me, and I’ll come back!
Wait in patience yet
When they tell you off by heart
That you should forget.
Even when my dearest ones
Say that I am lost,
Even when my friends give up,
Sit and count the cost,
Drink a glass of bitter wine
To the fallen friend –
Wait! And do not drink with them!
Wait until the end!

Wait for me and I’ll come back,
Dodging every fate!
“What a bit of luck!” they’ll say,
Those that did not wait.
They will never understand
How amidst the strife,
By your waiting for me, dear,
You had saved my life.
How I made it, we shall know,
Only you and I.
You alone knew how to wait –
We alone know why!

That was the easy part.

Now I want you to think of that poem not as a soldier to his love, I want you to see the writer as HOPE, writing to you. I ask you to not to think on how moving to read of such intimacy between two people. I want you to think of this notion HOPE we hold so dear, speaking to you. Of course, within you, some of the words and phrases will change to fit your perceptions, this is fine; the necessity is to cling to HOPE.

In the spirt of the poem this is not the soft HOPE we all evoke ‘Gee I hope things will be better’ and then leaving the rest to someone or something else. This is the dogged, persistent HOPE in the face of all seeming evidence to the contrary. The one which keeps us carrying on and not falling into the mires of Fear, Dread, Despair or those wretched excuses for not wishing to face Reality: Conspiracy Theories and Fashionable Cynicism. HOPE which takes you beyond the boundaries of Reason. HOPE which all your experience thus far tells you is a naïve and pointless exercise, because all the evidence, dependant on the situation is whispering or screaming at you there is nothing left but Doom and Gloom, ‘Roll up all the maps’  ‘Shred those inspirational posters’  ‘Sing nothing but lamentations,’ …….and so on. Yet, HOPE is there, just because.

This HOPE is a hard Task-Maker. It does not promise you perfect solutions. It does not try to sell you The Happy Dawn or The Cheerful Ending, Song (and roll credits) This HOPE is about the beginning, the one which is unsatisfactory but better than all the alternatives which could arise. This is the HOPE for a grudging end to fighting and an ill-humoured backing off. This is the HOPE which serves up rations, blankets and some shelter, to stave off the hunger, the dispassionate elements of weather and the fear. But this is the HOPE which lays the groundwork for other HOPES to seed and grow and from them even brighter ones and so on.

This is a tough HOPE. It is used to being mistaken for and called other names such as Fatalism, Cynicism, Realpolitik or Pragmatism. This HOPE knows them well and sometimes even rides in on their vehicles, grinning knowingly because it has turned them to its use.

This HOPE knows it treads a lonely and harsh road. Yet it bids you follows, for without this rough companion your eyes are clouded with grey hopelessness or blood red rage, your ears are filled with screams which will not be blocked out, your meals taste of ashes and you smell burning and dead. Your thoughts are ragged, your heart turns to a husk and your capacities for Compassion, Tolerance and Respect wither away to a sharp stalks fit only to be used to lash out in futility as you stagger in a haze seeking a solace which in the paradox of human nature you deny; Hopelessness.

Wait therefore, beyond the roiling caused by emotions of the latest media feed, and the confusion of a myriad of discordant sounds. Wait not for the perfect dawn, the soft tender brush of first sunlight, the cheer of birdsong and the growing warmth of day. HOPE as you wait for the coming soon of night’s end; HOPE for the storm and the chill to end; HOPE your shelter will hold fast. Then as you rise HOPING for HOPE, embrace its own patch of warmth, its sliver of comfort, its whisper that your HOPE is one voice in a choir which despite all that may be visible never stopped singing HOPE‘s song. For all The World

You may scoff, you may doubt, you may even wonder just what this post was about. You should not be surprised to feel so, I did give you advanced warning of what was ahead.

You may go away, feeling you’ve ‘Got it’. Then in unknown days ahead come to feel the return of the burden of the media feed and things you feel you have learnt and your hold on HOPE start to lessen. You should not feel surprise to feel those either, I know I will. Thus you must return to holding tight to the rough calloused hand of this HOPE.

A Difficult Task to consistently HOPE with all your heart.

6th November 2024. When Hope and Faith Are Being Tested To Breaking Point

Strolling

A time to get the initial feelings of sorrow, the disappointment and the fear out of our systems before we take up the struggle again. 

What better way that music?

 

When it just gets too much


Just like the Seneca*
I have lost my place
And where I’ve been planted now
Soon will be shaken
And just like the Seneca, it’s a losin’ race

Too soon tomorrow will come, and nighttime’s awakening
Brings forth a melody I’ve heard before

Oh my god, must it be so hard
Just to breathe and love and learn to be man
I am doing all I can

Too soon tomorrow
Nighttime delay its pace
Too soon tomorrow becomes yesterday
Too soon tomorrow
Nighttime delay its pace
Too soon tomorrow becomes yesterday

Oh my god, must it be so hard
Just to breathe and love and learn to be man
Oh my god, must it be so hard
Just to breathe and love and learn to be man
I am doing all I can
Yeah

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seneca_people

Of course….

And also:

Feel free to add your own suggestions or create your own Lamentation Play List

weeping-statue-of-liberty

To all my very good friends in the USA from the UK.

We are with you, you millions who can see beyond the cheap words, and what the folly the rest may bring upon you

When the Weight Falls On You (Pre and Post Election USA)

Lost

Following my previous post

A Spectre to be Exorcised (Communal Violence)- A Repeated from 2022

My good and dear Friend Jill nudged me into this based on the extract It may be too late to do anything about what might happen in the USA on and after the 5th of November 2024, and the subsequent ramifications across the world- for you are one of three largest and most globally influential nation states. Jill asked me to look into my ideas as to what that might entail.

Foreword
It has almost become a convention in the lesser books of Military History and certainly useful for the hero in many an action thriller to use the phrase ‘No Plan Survives Contact With The Enemy’. Whereas it may be getting stale in those contexts the meaning behind it remains a bleak warning as to Uncertainty.
The sentiments behind that phrase can be carried forward into a complete overhaul of the words into ‘No Action’s Full Consequences Can Be Predicted’. This can be carried into all manner of life choices- a rich theme for films and books as in the 1998 film ‘Sliding Doors’ , though when this moves into the area World Politics, the myriads of players and the variable circumstances the possibilities are numerous and more than a few ominous.
Sometimes these start with seemingly small local events – The Assassination of Archduke Ferdinand on 28th June 1914 was initially seen in diplomatic circles as a local event, a Hapsburg problem by the 28th July 1914 but a lighted match had been dropped in a tinder dry forest; World War One had started. Sometimes the event can be of the Last Straw type. The Invasion by Germany into Poland on the 1st September 1939 being an example. Others times to march to complete catastrophe is not inevitable such as The Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962. While others lurk in the shadows of earlier histories: The Sykes-Picot agreement of 1916 between France and Britain was a plan to divide up the Ottoman Empire after World War One and avoid ‘unpleasantness’ between the two – it is a major factor in all Middle East conflicts post 1945.

The following is based on that premise, but I must stress there are no solid predictions here, that would be folly and conceit; herein are conjectures which may happen yet in turn have their own ramifications distant in the murk of International Politics and Internal Dynamics. The reason my writing it is to demonstrate that there is nothing ‘business as usual’ about this American Presidential Election of 2024, for whether a reader likes it or not what happens in the USA, a vast nation with large resources and a myriad of political and diplomatic links will have ramifications in the world as a whole. When large nations move, the rest of the world feels it. Yes, I know you Dear Reader did not ask for this. Circumstances, though.

21st Century and the USA
Currently the USA exists in a world beset by major and inescapable factors. The Russo- Ukrainian War; the replacement of Communist Revolutionary movements with the return of Aggressive forms of Islam as political-military factors; the revitalised China using both commerce and military forces as a means to ensure its continuation as a major power; the unavoidable fact that the Climate is altering due to Human activity. All set against a backdrop of Human unfocused dissatisfaction. In this, the USA to the outside once a seeming monolith able to navigate internal upheavals and yet remain dominant.

To proceed we must start from a base of a prediction that the USA has indeed become a place of communal violence. The mass shootings by disturbed individuals have been replaced by targeted violence through gun, bomb, IED and riots masked as demonstrations. Politicians, commentators, celebrities, campaigners of all stripes are amongst the casualties. This naturally has the following effects:


An extra pressure of resources of internal security forces and an uncertainty on the political loyalty of individuals.
An accelerated greater polarisation of politics at all levels.
A general diminution of confidence in the USA as a partner and in those competitors encouragement to take greater advantage of the situation.

It is in the latter of the three for the purpose of this post we need to focus.

Directly and open hostile groups or nations would be drawn to interfere in this. As examples Russia and its allies are already supporting the Right even a modest increase in support through finance or internet activity would be seen to pay dividends. Islamic groups or possibly Iran would do likewise by playing on the fears of native American Muslims, subject to hostility, an ideal time to plague ‘Great Satan’, though this would likely have another knock on effect into that Gulf State governments and Israel would enter the scene in a very complicated game. And of course where there is chaos and suffering Criminal Elements would seek to profit, the opportunities would be myriad, particularly as they could operate under the guise of a political affiliation.
In addition to the opportunism of direct intervention would be the temptation of other nations to take advantage of American distraction, weakening of abilities and lack of focus.
The survival of Ukraine in its current form would be the first. Should Russia prevail and bring the country to heel, the Baltic states, Finland and Scandinavian nations would be among the first, to take action along with smaller border nations such as Georgia and Moldavia. The rest of Europe would then face possibilities of uniting without the USA, or fracturing in pro and anti-Russian lines. Uncertainty not seen since the early days of the 1950s would return. The UK would likely experience an increase in drawing closer to Europe again, although the anti-American pro-Moscow forces would make a fuss.
Whereas China would prefer a certain amount of stability as it moves along a commercial path to world domination, a USA distracted would increase its desire to bring South East Asia and a large regions of the Pacific under its domination. Taiwan and Philippines being current targets of low key aggression, and Pacific island states soft power.
The USA in terms of material resources has little in the African Continent in the North, The Sahel and the Sub-Saharan nations. As France appears to be on twin paths of rejection and ejection a gradual redrawing is taking place. Russia’s return under the guise of Wagner private army. China’s persistence now with its Belt and Road Initiative. Islamic groupings based on local dissatisfactions. You could be forgiven for wondering if despite a great deal of effort by African nations that nothing changed since the 19th Century ‘Scramble for Africa’ then between Britain and France.
That most unhappy region The Middle East often a victim of US intervention, sometimes well-meaning brokerage would find it would be business as usual, with a US Right encouraging Israel to continue in its wars. However matters are far more complex than Israel vs Hamas / Hezbollah, behind this run struggles between Saudi Arabia and allied nations and Iran recently played out in Yemen. The permutations and possibilities here could fill a series of weekly posts that might make up double figures into the twenties and would then only scratch the surface.

And those are only a few examples. To elaborate on the theme of lack of US influence. Many situations are already running with scant attention by the players to what the USA thinks. There lies India and Pakistan’s continuous conflicts direct or by proxy. In Myanmar the internal struggles against the Military are practically supported by a Crowd Funding system, and far beneath the attention of the nearly the entire Western Activist / Protest movements never mind US policy. There are also myriad of struggles by minority communities through the world. Meanwhile aside from the forays by the main media, yes I am talking about the BBC here, who outside of the UN cares about Sudan? Look into any of those and you’ll get a general idea of what goes on outside of US main policy and how that could be extended if the USA continues to turn inwards on its polarising internal conflicts.

USA- Sorry Folks But It Is An Important Nation
It is a commonalty to find items around the net either blaming the USA for all the world’s ill, or from Americans in angst over how terrible their nation has been. If we take the unarguable fact that no nation or peoples in the long track of history ever have a clean record, then the USA takes its place. However whatever you care to throw at the USA, there will be parallels and far worse in the Past and in The Present. As far as International Politics and History are concerned no one gets a free pass.

This said, the USA being a very big nation, which in the aftermath of WWII was the one stable giant which inherited either by intent or more likely by default a world defining role. This makes that Nation also by default in the eyes of the world The Main Villain, irrespective of what others are up to. Britain, France and Spain to name a few went through it. China and Russia seem to have some undefinable quality never to completely decline and keep coming back, though for some reasons there are always folk willing to make excuses for them; without living within their borders that is. Nonetheless the USA has until recently maintained a solid role of ‘Being There’, a constant unified democracy (bear in mind that the latter word is a moveable and variable term). Take that away and the world becomes a very different place. Add on to that an unsettled and conflicted USA and other nations will see opportunities to ‘buy up bits on the cheap’ either in terms of land, businesses or members of the ruling classes. China and India could tell you a tale or too there. Nations no matter how big do decline.

Of course there is one final issue to consider, some large nations have not gone quietly, they have thrashed out trying to maintain their influence. A bedevilled and internally frustrated USA could well react very quickly and heavily if China did try and take Taiwan. One US government having a very bad day, might decide that Russia really has been getting thing too much its own way; the latter might come as a result of a purge of folk seen having had a history of being too friendly to Russia. When a nation becomes unstable, you cannot tell, which way anyone in government might go. Export the problem, either by design or default. The very big issue here being that very large arsenal of nuclear weapons. By some miracle the decline of the USSR did not result in new small nations playing with the weaponry. Luckily in the USA governors do not have access to nuclear codes. That said instability and a nuclear arsenal are a worrying combination.

Upon the Shoulders This Weighs

Therefore, by another default and most of you did not ask for this in any shape or form, but The World will be watching for the result of the Presidential Election with more than just a passing and deeply invested interest. There will be some holding of breaths, some sleepless nights, some pacing of floors, all depending on the time zone. We know from the last election there are folk some infused with toxic egos or a complete break with Reality who have lost any sense of maturity and responsibility and will over-react no matter what the result. The days of shrugging the shoulders and saying ‘Well it won’t be my fault when things go wrong’ or ‘That’s it. The country is done for! Where’s the remote? I’m gonna watch……..’ they are long gone.

It is too late to influence the result. That is now to be seen. What waits on the horizon is how to deal with the result, how to manage it and repair within the USA a return to stability and rationality. There is the challenge. For you, as an individual. The world waits.

Unfair isn’t it? You didn’t sign up for this. You have my sympathies. For we all bear some responsibility even in microscopic form for the ills of the World. It just so happens folk in the USA have been burdened with a larger piece than most.