Some readers have asked me why The Savage War doesn’t have much to do with magic.

My first serious answer is that High Fantasy was not the story I was given to write.

My second is that it is very important to me that people realize their worth.

I’ve spoken to several people who sigh and tell me they wish they were superheroes or wizards going to Hogwarts. I ask them what’s wrong with being human. Their response is that humans are nothing. This is an idea that has been pushed by pop culture.

In Harry Potter, the non-magical population, muggles, not only are forbidden from Hogwarts, but the wizards think it is fine to confuse them, wipe their memory, etc. etc. etc. Wizards have no more respect for humans’ inalienable right to choose right and wrong for themselves then if ‘muggles’ were animals and not humans at all.

On the flip side of that message, there’s a subtle story of what that attitude creates in Petunia. Because she was rejected, told she was nothing by Snape in particular, she threw a wall between her and that world of wizards, refusing to acknowledge its existence. When forced to do otherwise, she acted with bitterness and hate. Not that I like Petunia’s character, but I understand what caused some of her choices.

Very few notice that story however. It was inserted by accident as a reason to create a horrible living circumstance for the main character, a reason for him to dream of escape and for people to sympathize with him.

Superhero stories, of course, abound with people being physically changed forever before they go out and ‘rescue the world’. I always wanted Captain America to stay the sick kid and find some way to make a huge difference in the world, earning the title Captain America for great deeds that no one thought him capable of doing. Instead, they make him a ‘giant’ first.

I do appreciate the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) more than DC however, for the existence of Hawkeye and Black Widow. They didn’t heavily alter themselves to go save the world. They just go out anyway with all the natural talents and some gismos given to them. Once again, they aren’t the big poster Avengers as they’re shunted aside for those with super powers.

When books are changed into film adaption, the message of human worthlessness is typically added. The producers made a point to have Elrond spurn the worth of humans in the film adaptation of the Lord of the Rings. Some have argued that Aragorn proves him wrong, but I have heard others say he has Elven blood in him, so he’s still not fully human.

There are films and books that fight this idea, but I have heard about enough people struggling with their worth to know a story about our responsibility as humans, without going too far the other way, is something priceless.

Therefore, a side theme in The Savage War is how all our choices can sink or raise a kingdom. A tiny action ripples outward until it fills an entire ocean, and we don’t need to turn to science or other powers to make a difference. God placed humans on the Earth to tend it (Genesis 1:28-30) and Jesus said with the faith of a mustard seed, we can move a mountain (Matthew 17:20). Our power is released through both our love and our faults. Who will we touch or harm by love or anger next and where will that go? Only God knows the answer, but we can at least remember the extent of our power and worth, our responsibility given by our Creator.

This post is adapted from something I wrote about non-lethal weapons on my personal blog. I’m sharing it here because I want to get back into the Speculative Fiction Writer’s Guide to War and this post has elements like that series–i.e. technical speculation on the nature of future warfare that will enhance the life of science fiction writers, to which I’ve also added some bits about fantasy worlds.

Probably the most famous non-lethal weapon in all of speculative fiction is the Star Trek phaser, set on stun:

Image copyright: tshirtroundup.com

In spite of how easy-to-use this beam weapon is on Star Trek, the reality of human life and life in general is that it occupies a delicate balance of conditions, so that in general it’s easier to kill or seriously wound a living being with a burst of energy than to disable one without harm. As an example of what I mean, you might recall the case of the terrorist attack in Moscow in 2002, when terrorists from Chechnya took over a theater. Around 40 terrorist were holding 850 people hostage.

In the end, the Russians pumped an anesthesia gas into the place, in a quantity they intended to knock people out without killing them. The 40 terrorists zonked out, allowing military and paramilitary forces to rush in and shoot them. However, of the 850 hostages, about 130 were overdosed on the gas and died. That allowed 700 other people to be rescued and you could therefore say this use of a non-lethal weapon was a success. Though it wouldn’t feel that way if you were one of the 130 who died or related to them…

The problem is it’s easy to overdose a person on gas. The amount needed varies based on size, general health, muscle mass, and even unexpected variables such as whether you have red hair. And even people who are not killed by an overdose of anesthesia gas, who simply fall asleep, may suffer from a reaction of vomiting–which can lead them to choking to death on their own emesis. These difficulties show why a team of life-saving professionals administer anesthesia in hospitals. You can’t just administer sleepy gas or serum and walk away. Not if you want to be sure the patient will live.

Other disabling systems have the same problem. Too little of whatever you want to use and the person you intended to stun is still on his feet, ready to hurt you. Too much and you might permanently injure or kill the person you meant to stun. Ultrasonic waves or infrared heat that can disable an opponent at a certain range of energy prove ineffective or overkill at others. And the systems required to set up such “stun” settings for infrared or other beams of energy are not presently something you can just hold in your hand. And the chances are you won’t be able to hold anything like that in your hand anytime soon.

The Star Trek “stun” setting is just fiction. Knocking people out without killing them is a lot harder than that.

Star Wars used carbon freezing to in effect “stun” Han Solo (though Star Wars also shows a stun beam at least once), though if you freeze a person, the real problem comes with thawing him out. Frozen cells rupture, so a thawed person in reality is as good as dead, even if not exactly dead yet. Star Wars offered no real solution to this problem, only hinting at the difficulty by making Han Solo temporarily blind on his release from his imprisonment. But even if you mastered the technology of freezing and rethawing, actual freezing would surely work a lot better in a controlled environment, that say dumping ultra-cold liquid on a battlefield, just like anesthesia works a lot better on a surgical table than in a Moscow theater.

A pretty effective modern system revolves around pepper spray, which is usually good at causing pain and making people drop to the ground, disabled but not killed. This isn’t very practical for military use since its range is so short and it can be cancelled out by chemical protective gear. And a tiny percentage of people can ignore pepper spray anyway.

And in a speculative fiction context, I think you’d have no assurance that the pepper spray we use would work at all on an alien species or fantasy creatures–they might simply get angry. Or hungry for that matter. 🙂

The modern taser gives a better example of how an effective stun system might work. The taser uses electrical pulses to in essence override the nervous system of the person it’s used on. This isn’t practical as a military weapon as of now, because its range is too short. But imagine you could fire a taser rocket that would fly over to an enemy, guiding itself, then delivering the taser charge and keep the shocks going until its owner came to turn it off (and take the enemy prisoner). That might be very effective. And its stunning effect could be tailored to match the species it attacks. Or we could alternatively imagine a self-piloting flying syringe delivering designer anesthetic and then monitoring the patient afterwards to insure correct dosage.

In fact, futuristic science fiction story worlds with robotic weapons incorporating computer systems that would have the ability to individually calculate dosages of anesthesia or amounts of shocking energy and monitor the person who falls afterwards make non-lethal systems suddenly become much more likely. Individually fired flying projectiles, ones that could guide themselves to their target, and that could deliver a precise dose of whatever it took to knock out an opponent, such technology seems to be an inevitable part of the future of weapons.

Note that other futuristic computerized systems are possible, not just the self-guiding flying kind. You could have a door that automatically stuns people who attempt to break in. Or bomblets which drop from the sky, opening up into little flying or even crawling robots, seeking out people to stun. Or self-deploying cages or traps, that capture a person without harming anyone. Or a nanite cloud, which in science fiction are usually portrayed as eating people alive, instead, delivering them just the right amount of anesthesia to put them to sleep.

In a story world like that, taking prisoners could become the standard practice, actually killing people on purpose would be considered wrong and unneeded. Or at least certain science fiction races would see it that way. Others, presumably, would not (some interesting stories could be told about clashes between the different races with differing philosophies on lethality).

In fantasy stories, the use of non-lethal weapons is not generally considered a problem. If people (only those who breathe, though) happen to fall asleep in the field of poppies featured in The Wizard of Oz without any risk of death, that’s just how the magic in the story works. Likewise a user of magic might command an opponent to sleep and it will work without harm to opponents every time.

I think magical traps or cages are also pretty common in fantasy. Such as a room you can enter but cannot escape on your own.

But these kinds of fantasy stories might gain a small edge of realism by importing a few science fiction ideas into the background. So while a fireball or lightning bolt or similar spell that can kill or seriously maim could be sent off without a second thought required of the spell caster, perhaps a spell putting people to sleep or stunning them would require some sort of magical creature to consciously guide and direct the magic, perhaps an imp or a pixie. Or perhaps the casting of non-lethal spells could require more training and complex conjuring than lethal spells. Even if we put aside knocking people unconscious, it certainly seems much more complex to build a room that traps people than simply produce a lot of heat or electricity or similar energy that will kill or maim them.

Crafting magical systems that make non-lethal options more difficult could also have story implications concerning the nature of good and evil. Killing is easier, so evil characters drift to that kind of magic, while good characters struggle with harder, non-lethal spells. A setup like that would provide as a simple acknowledgement of that fact that reliably knocking people out without any risk of killing them is actually pretty difficult.

So, readers of this post, have you used non-lethal weapons in any of your stories? How did your weapons systems work? Or have you read stories that feature these kinds of weapons? Please share in the comments below.

So you all know about Lorehaven, right? Great.

I began writing reviews for Lorehaven about two years ago. Lorehaven reviews are most often short, no more than 150 words, and their purpose is to help you know whether the book in question is the sort of thing you would like. Whether it is the sort of thing we would like is not of great interest. The necessary brevity, together with the desired objectivity, encourages a straightforward treatment: summary, strengths, weaknesses, conclusion – and no more than two or three sentences for each.

But I’ve been reflecting on the books I have had the opportunity to read and the privilege to review. I am going to highlight just a few, those that remain most vivid in my mind after the time that has passed. A couple of these overlap with genres, or subgenres, I don’t normally favor. This demonstrates that although the disadvantage of assigned books is that you read things you would not have chosen for yourself, the advantage is that you read things you would not have chosen for yourself.

The Red Rider, by Randall Allen Dunn. I am going to state right at the beginning that this one was too strong for my tastes. Yet it was striking, and memorable even after two years. This comes, I think, from three qualities: one, its perfect meshing of the fairy tale of Red Riding Hood with the legend of werewolves; two, its dark, dreamlike atmosphere – as if it is taking place not in our world but a worse version of it; three, the almost bizarre appropriateness of its horror elements. “Little Red Riding Hood” always was ghastly, you know.

Nick Newton Is Not a Genius, by S.E.M. Ishida.This brief novel is, technically, for children, and I won’t be backward in admitting that it matches its intended readers with a certain simplicity. But it is colorful and creative and utterly charming. Even the simplicity is played into a virtue. This world of robots and whimsy would not be nearly as much as fun if we had to enter it with the deadly seriousness of adults.

Journey Into Legend, by Henry Schreiner. This one is a throwback, and not only because it contains college students who write actual letters. The narrative – presented through diaries, letters, and other documents, its fantastical element fortified with science – is reminiscent of the great Victorian-era forays into science fiction. It’s magical realism, old-school.

Launch, by Jason Joyner. Have you ever noticed that if you squint, certain biblical figures – say, Elijah or Samson – might be superheroes, only with more religion and less spandex? This novel takes that idea out for a spin and proves it to be a lot of fun. It is also strikingly successful in creating, without artificiality or strain, the youthful, contemporaneous world of its teenage protagonists.

To Ashes We Run, by Just B. Jordan. The two greatest strengths of this novel – and you should understand that by greatest strengths, I mean the things that most appealed to me personally – are the world-building and the characters. I always find special appeal in fantasy worlds that can combine genuine mythos with a realistic consideration of politics and culture. I find even more appeal in any novel that feels, and causes me to feel, the lives and personalities of its characters.

Nearly a month after the last Realm Makers conference, I’m going crazy with things to do.

Piling up are book edits, Lorehaven magazine work, and a new foster care mission(!). Also, messages. So many messages from friends and allies.

No, I’m not complaining.

Rather, this makes the fifty-first grace—a gift from God by way of his people—that I count after the Realm Makers 2019 conference.

51. Once upon a time, when a writers’ conference ended, I came home and basically reverted to the same life. The only exception: maybe a proposal or two to ship out. But these last years have been different. I bring work home with me: contacts to follow up, renewed friendships with people to catch up with, magazine work, new recruits. And, of course, planning for the next conference(s).
52. Lauren H. Salisbury! Apart from Grace Bridges, or perhaps Michael Ban, Lauren may have won the furthest-traveled award. She hails from the UK. And in our conversation she shared fascinating views on Christian fiction. Turns out that over there in merry ol’ post-Christian England, they actually love having some kind of literature that’s distinctly Christian in origin or theme. Yes, even the “inspirational” stuff. Yes, maybe even the Amish romances. Lauren re-taught me that snarky Christian-fiction-sneering Christians from America might need to check their privilege. Also, she was very polite when I did the whole cliched series of “what kind of accent?” questions.
53. Every year also brings someone who has a travel-horror story. (I think I still won 2016’s top horrible story, when thanks to Hillary Clinton and thunderstorms in Philadelphia, I was marooned in Richmond, Virginia.) This year, several people’s flights were delayed or outright cancelled because of thunderstorms (but no Clinton). Thank God, everyone reached the conference safely, even if late.
54. On the Facebook group, I offered snacks to anyone who had a tragic travel backstory. Two people took me up on this offer.
55. Airport shuttles are one of the little blessings of life. This one, even at 10:30 p.m., confirmed the same.
56. That Burger King open late in the St. Louis airport was exactly what I needed at this late hour.
57. Alas, I don’t recall the name of the chap who joined me for the shuttle, heading to the conference. But it was great to meet him.
58. No matter how late you reach the hotel, someone is already up. In this case, I got to join Steve Rzasa and Becky Dean.
59. Bless the hotel air-conditioner for trying. But when the device changes your room between “refreshing cool” and “sticky interior,” then the overall effect ends up being “sticky interior.”
60. Doesn’t matter. No one sleeps regularly at conferences. Somehow we get enough grace to overcome this sin.
61. All the conversations and interactions that keep me from getting to my classes on time. Again, I’m not complaining!
62. I was late to Wayne Thomas Batson’s class. But this fantasy author’s encouragements to maintain a disciplined writing life were spot-on.
63. I was also late to Steve Laube’s class. He was overviewing his literary agent’s perspective on the process of a book’s acquisition and publication. I arrived just in time for all of his tragicomic “everything in the late-publication process goes desperately wrong” anecdotes. Close enough.
64. Many thousands of dollars’ worth of printed books, with misspelled names on the spine, died to bring us this tragicomic anecdote.
65. That Starbucks within quick walking distance was a total Godsend, especially on that first morning.
66. It’s also great to fetch a quick breakfast at the hotel and meet people you know, and new people you want to know!
67. Fuzzy’s Tacos. Last year plenty of us frequented this nearby fast-casual joint, which I’d previously thought was an establishment exclusive to my home in central Texas. This year I think I ended up having meals there three times in a row. (Again, not complaining.) I shall miss Fuzzy’s Tacos at the next Realm Makers (which is moving to Atlantic City, New Jersey).

A break from Fuzzy’s Tacos for pizza instead. From left: E. Stephen Burnett, Rachel Starr Thomson, Kerry Nietz, and Marian Jacobs.

68. I am complaining that this year I couldn’t bring my wife, Lacy. She has joined me for the last two Realm Makers and I’d love to continue this. But this year it didn’t work. However, it’s just as fun to stay in touch with her and share with her all the news.
69. The same is true for my friends Austin Gunderson (also Lorehaven review chieftain) and Zack Russell. Who’ll return next year. Right?
70. Sharon Hinck! To my regret, she wasn’t even at this year’s conference. But people were still talking about her class from last year.
71. The woman to my left at the costume banquet. She was from the local area and had accompanied her teenage daughter to the conference. Bother! I wish I could recall her name. But it was great to talk with her, and to be encouraged by her natural parenting commitment to help her daughter explore this writing interest and reflect the image of God in her.
72. Completely unrelated: no one at Realm Makers judges you for not finishing your banquet-provided asparagus.
73. Somehow the Lorehaven booth got a pretty good location in the bookstore.
74. Lauren Brandenburg, author, homeschool mom, and returning Realm Makers conference emcee extraordinaire.
75. I’ve mentioned the “TALKABLE” sticker (in part 1, number 11). But I must also draw attention to the genre stickers that, I believe, have been a part of conference badge-accessorizing since the first year. You can use a dragon for fantasy, a spaceship for sci-fi, and so on. In my case, I used both. And I could have also made up my own sticker for “nonfiction.”

Next time, I’ll wrap up this series. I’ll especially hearken to early plans for next year’s Realm Makers conference in New Jersey.