There is no ideal. There is only the moment, and the hope that we can make the moment last…

I want to start off with a story. It’s a story about a girl and a boy who fell in love with each other but never had a chance. I’m sure you’ve heard the tale. But this is much more personal.

I had just been dumped pretty hard by someone I cared for immensely. One might say I even loved her. I was in the prototypical sad state of affairs after this when I met Jennifer. I couldn’t tell you, even to this day, what it was about her. She was gorgeous, sure, but that wasn’t it. Her eyes sparkled with all the stars of the night sky, but that wasn’t it either. Her smile. There are no words to describe her smile, even now, but suffice it to say that it could make any dreary day bright again. But it wasn’t even that.

I felt something. Something inexplicable, something intangible, something…that caused my heart rate to elevate, my palms to get sweaty, and my breathing to become slightly labored. I remember thinking my stomach was in my throat and wondering how on earth this could be. Love at first sight? That was a mere fallacy, no such thing existed.

Oh, but it existed alright. Even if I didn’t want to believe it, it happened. I can’t explain it so it makes sense even to me, but from the moment our eyes met, I knew I had loved her all my life. As it turned out, I wasn’t alone in my feelings, either.

Now, one might think how lovely a story, and when I start with something like this I’m often asked, “So how long have you two been together?” The answer is: We never were.

The mere strength of the emotions scared the living crap out of both of us, and in different ways. First, I was afraid to think, say or do anything that might bring up such an admission, and when I finally admitted it to myself it took a while for me to work up the courage to say anything. When I finally did speak up, Jennifer stopped talking to me for three long months. I don’t know if I’d ever felt more devastated in my life, even up to now. But it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know how to react, because she felt the same way. The whole thing is frightening on a whole other level.

If we fast forward to today, you’d see that I’ve now been married for six years to an amazing woman who’s been by my side for eight years now. Her name is Melody. She takes my breath away, even after all this time, and I am always falling deeper in love with her. Each day I wake, I realize my heart has gotten bigger, I feel like my chest is going to explode it’s so filled with love and passion for her. But, even after all that time, Jennifer is an ever-present force in my life.

I’m not using pseudonyms or changing names here, this is my reality. I’m not telling the story of Phaedra and Dane here (although those tales have a basis in the truth of my relationship with Jennifer); instead, I’m trying to make sense of something so few could possibly comprehend, and even fewer bother with. And that is the idea of soul mates.

If you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I have a theory.

The soul, or spirit if you will, is eternal. Each soul has a different beginning, some being old, others being relatively young. But they are not bound to life and death as a mortal is. Instead, they weave in and out of time, sharing a life with a person of their choosing.

Have you ever had memories that aren’t yours? Have you ever dreamed of things that you know had to have happened but never actually happened to you? I believe these memories are not our own, but connects us to all those our spirit has shared its time with – I believe that the spirit chooses us at conception and bonds with us, staying with us until our final breath. After that, it will carry us into the future, bringing all our memories as well – a form of immortality, if you will.

Now, what if my spirit meets up with another spirit that it shared a life with in the distant past? The power of that kind of connection is immeasurable. I’ve met two such people in my life. But the connection I share with Jennifer is by far the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.

I can feel her pains, her frustrations, and tears. I can feel her happiness and joys. I may not be able to know why or how, but it’s there. Every time a tear falls from her beautiful face, it lands upon my heart. Even over great distances of time and space it was ever-present. I can’t speak for her, but for me it is the single most incredible experience of my life…and I didn’t even get to share my life with her.

It’s an odd thing, trying to make sense of the nonsensical, but I hope I’m not alone here. I hope I don’t come across as this mind-numbingly insane guy that blows a lot of hot air up your skirt. Even if I can’t explain it, it doesn’t detract from the magnitude of what I feel. A flood of emotions doesn’t begin to describe it.

To say that I love Jennifer isn’t enough. To try to explain it is impossible. You see, I love and adore my wife, but that’s different. What I feel from her I can attribute to intuition, or being able to see her reactions to whatever is going on. I know the story, I know the stimulus. But with Jennifer it’s something beyond me, beyond us. Something I may never know or understand.

And somehow, I have to be okay with that.

But, I think I’ve won in some weird way. Jennifer, after many years of silence between us, is now in my life again and we’ve sort of redirected our energies into being friends. Some days I imagine it must be hard, but for some reason I feel whole knowing I can talk to her, and I’m okay with knowing that I can never have what I thought was the only woman in the world for me – in that way.

Ever heard the term “old soul”? Well, if I were to guess, I’d say that our souls might be some of the eldest… But that’s just speculation.

So, what is the purpose of this post? Honestly, I have no idea. I felt like talking about something personal for once, instead of posting stories or guides. And don’t worry too much, if you think me odd now, just give it time…you may find I’m not such an oddball after all.

A war may last for years, but a battle can be determined in minutes.

Despite the stupidities of any given society throughout history, it should be noted that whether or not warriors are admired, war is ugly. It is cruel, unrelenting, cold, and brutal. A warrior doesn’t have the luxury of playing sides in the heat of debate, for a battle is won by the swiftest steel, or the higher ground, or the better tactical advantage/mind. A battle is won by employing trickery, sacrificing pawns, and applying a strategy that ensures victory.

“The supreme Art of War is to subdue the enemy without fighting.” ~Sun Tzu.

For those of us who have served in the military, The Art of War was required reading. For many of us who have studied any form of martial arts, The Art of War holds firm in bringing out the strategic mind in any encounter.

Sun Tzu used deception in many of his teachings as a method to overcoming one’s adversary, but in the end, he showed that it was best to avoid war where possible, but always to be ready for it.

A battle, by definition, is any encounter where there are two or more opposing forces seeking to overcome each other with violence. A force is two or more people. Most often, the numbers are much higher, but you get the point.

Points to ponder:

• What are sizes of the forces? Is one significantly larger? Or are they fairly equivalent?
• Were there scouts dispatched to ascertain the size of the opposing force? And, most importantly, did they make it back?
• Who has the high ground? Higher ground is a huge tactical advantage. It doesn’t ensure victory, but it certainly helps.
• What is the caliber of warriors on either side? Seasoned warriors? Young forces? These things matter. After all, if one side is seeking to retreat because they about crapped themselves by knowing who they’re facing, or the sheer numbers of those they face…it says a lot.
• What are the commanders on the battlefield like? Are they tacticians, able to think on their feet and adjust? Or are they more of the type that plans and sticks to the plan. Both methods can be equally effective, but can add a lot of dimension to a story.
• Should one wish to, one could employ Sun Tzu’s teachings to their story. For instance, a small force could use a tactic that employs them being spread out so as to appear larger than they are. Likewise, a larger force could do the opposite in an effort to appear smaller.
• What are they fighting for? Lands? Conquest? Defense? Retribution or vengeance?
• And what may be one of the most fun things to contemplate…what is your MC/protagonist/antagonist thinking? Obviously, point of view here will be a big deal, but the events leading up to will cause a stir of emotions, as will the prelude, the battle and the aftermath…

It is of utmost importance that the idea for how the battle will play out is done in advance. For instance:

• If the fight is going to be linear in progression, or if there will be instances where certain deaths will swing the tide in one or another direction. To put this in movie terms, let’s look at Troy for inspiration, specifically where Hector defeats Ajax. The defeat of Ajax deflated the Greeks and the Trojans won the day.
• If one of the forces has backup that shows up at a key moment, or at all.
• What kinds of tactics are being used by each side? Sheer numbers and force of will? Or perhaps applying strategic thinking to the battle? Bear in mind that the higher the difference in numbers, the higher the chance the sheer numbers will win – but at what cost?
• No army has unlimited resources. Resources, supplies, etc are the keys to victory. Taking away an opponent’s resources is a devastating blow to them, and will almost ensure victory. As was mentioned when discussing the Anatomy of a Fight Scene, a well fed warrior is far superior to a starving, dehydrated one. Imagine then the ramifications of an entire army being malnourished going up against a rested, well-fed army.
• To piggyback on the above statement, a blow to the supply lines large enough can force an opposing force to draw down and give up the fight before it starts.
• What is the reason for the battle? Often it’ll be positioning for a greater plan/scheme, or perhaps a foolhardy attempt at retribution or vengeance. Stupidity in action can either pay dividends or get an entire fighting force decimated.
• What is the terrain like? Has there been rain lately? If there has been rain, the grounds could be wet and muddy. Are there cliffs to work with/use? How much higher is the high ground? Are there any choke points? For many medieval castles, this was the point of the drawbridge and moat. A choke point means a much smaller force can take the taste for battle out of any army…

The focus should be on key elements. Placement, mindset, parts of the action. Timing is also key in any battle, and when writing of it, this should play a rather large factor. Momentum and time of day should also be considered. An early morning raid with a small party can cause panic and it would be possible to push the panicked individuals toward their death; whether it be a cliff or to the rest of the standing army waiting to end the fight.

And here’s the biggest question of all… What does it look like? In cover of darkness is there a moon? In daytime is the sun out? Or perhaps it’s cloudy that day. What’s the weather? Rain? Snow? Dry? Consider what a dry day could do, especially if under drought conditions…fire could be used to great effect. What are the winds like? It would be foolish to have the wind against you and still use fire. But if the winds are at your back the battle could be over before it starts.

Of course, this is not all inclusive, to say the least, but I do hope it gives you some things to ponder when considering what and how to write your battle scenes. Remember to attack it from a bird’s eye view and from the ground. Focus on the little things that make a battle scary, but also on those things that make a battle worth fighting. What do the movements look like? How do I show this? Have a visual of the terrain in your mind and run with it.

Phaedra had given up on Dane and finally allowed herself to move on. After all, Dane had gotten everything he ever wanted in the arms of another woman, why should she dwell? Besides, it wasn’t as though she wasn’t marketable. A stunning beauty in her own right, she had her pick of the litter…she just hoped that Dane was happy.

But there was always something resting there in the back of her mind, a constant nagging feeling that all was not right.

They still talked sporadically. For some odd reason, they could never remain apart, even when they weren’t talking. The distances that somehow always kept them apart could never be enough, for their hearts were linked. If ever there was a time to believe in soul mates, this was probably it. But life is harsh and unfair – cruel even – and now she found herself alone, attempting to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t think on him anymore, it hurt too much.

And yet, without fail, nighttime always fell upon her, and with the coming of the darkness came the loneliness.

Her sighs were absorbed into the pillows that held her head in their cradle. Her tears soaked up by the same. It was a terrible tragedy that had befallen her (and indeed them), and her cries knew no end as she often cried herself to sleep at night, only to wake up exhausted, rendering herself quite useless to her activities, at least until she had enough caffeine in her to face the day.

As her mind often wandered to him, she began to wonder just what they were doing. Neither Phaedra nor Dane had ever gotten past their feelings for each other, but never once did they have a chance to go out on a date, or hold hands, or kiss. No, they had been relegated to long distance hopes that just never panned out.

She had hurt him; she knew this, but God how she wished he was with her now. Even just the sound of his voice was enough to bring a smile to her face – but that smile had since vanished, as it had been months since she’d heard his voice. Each day was longer than the last; the nights filled with sorrow and dashed dreams.

Phaedra had broken his heart. And now he had shattered hers. They were meant to be together, but no matter how much she believed this he was with her now, and if the rumors were true, his girlfriend was pregnant with his child.

She couldn’t possibly call him now, it would ruin everything.

Then, one fateful day, months and months after he’d gotten married, Phaedra received a call from Dane.

“Hello?” …Phaedra’s voice was quiet, timid, and broken as it cracked slightly under her breath.

“Hi, my dear,” came the solemn reply, “I can’t do this. I can’t pretend with one while I love another. It’s not fair to anyone. And so, even if I end up alone, I’m getting a divorce.”