Direction in Life

I've been having a lot of thoughts of where and what to do with my life. It's been really difficult for me, living like this. School doesn't excite me, I'm hardly keeping up with my writing, I've even been, I'll admit, a little depressed.

I've always wanted to be a writer, but I don't think that's right for me. In fact, I've realized writing is what's been holding me back. Both writing and reading. I've been so involved with the fictional world, I've ignored the real world. My social life is a wreck, I'm barely passing school, I'm so involved in fiction, I've practically lost my sense of what is real and what isn't.

It isn't healthy. But I couldn't see that for far too long. I was too busy thinking about what will happen in Blackest Night? Who will be on the new roster of the Teen Titans? When will the next Neil Gaiman book come out?

But I've found something better than all of that.

I've found religion.

Yes, I've accepted Jesus Christ as my lord and savior, and I don't see how I could ever have felt otherwise.

And I'm going to pursue this farther. I need to get more in touch with my inner-self, with my soul. I'm dropping out of college. It hasn't been doing anything for me anyway. There's this nunnery in Vermont that I want to find. I'm going to join and find my true, Christian soul.

This is a big change for me. I'm a little nervous, and very excited. I'm not sure what will happen after this, but it's definitely going to be better than my life has been.

Story: A Day in the Life

A Day in the Life.

On Thursday, Joan jerked awake half an hour before school started. How had she overslept? She had gone to bed directly after finishing all of her homework at 3:00 AM. It had been the most sleep she’d had all week! She cursed and jumped into the shower and out again, throwing on her clothing and brushing her hair at the same time.

“You better not be late to school,” her mother warned her. “Every single tardy goes on your report card, and colleges could see it.”

“I’m leaving now, Mom!” Joan yelled. “Bye!”

She didn’t stop to eat breakfast. Breakfast was for the weak. She could always grab a cookie at Coffeebucks when she went to buy her Triple Gigantico Caffeinator.



A Block. Joan was in her seat five minutes early with her pencils sharpened and arranged on her desk by size. She was hoping her AP Chemistry teacher would write her college recommendation, so she wanted to seem as prepared as possible. She smiled brightly at her teacher when he walked in the door. He started talking, and she opened her notebook.

Hello, class, she wrote. Did you do your homework?

Joan worried, sometimes, that her notes were not thorough enough. She didn’t want to miss a word of the brilliance that came out of her teacher’s mouth, so she wrote everything.

Paraphrasing would be the ultimate travesty.



B Block. Gym Class. Joan had thought carefully about which gym class looked easiest. Eventually, she had chosen the course labeled Pretending to Exercise While Not Doing Much at All. It was a fairly rigorous course. Joan walked an entire lap around the field.



C Block. Joan’s free. It was really nice to sit back in the library and do some of the homework do Monday. She didn’t want to get behind, after all.



D Block. Honors Mathematics. The weakest point in her nearly bulletproof schedule. Her math class was not Advanced Placement. She tried not to let any of her friends see her sneaking into the room with the students who were not as clever as she was.

I’m not one of them! She wanted to shout. I occasionally have trouble in mathematics, but I’m not one of the slower students who cannot learn everything by the AP exam!

Some of the horrifically stupid students in her Honors class were taking only one AP class, or even none!



Lunch. Joan was always ravenous by the time lunch rolled around. She went down to the cafeteria.

They were serving her favorite meal! Fried grease on toast! With extra added sugar!

She knew it was healthy. It came with an apple. Even if she didn’t eat the apple, the thought was still there.



E Block. Latin. Joan had worried that AP English, AP Chemistry, AP History, and Honors Mathematics were not enough. She felt she needed a language. French and Spanish were too common to even consider. Luckily, Latin would look good on any college application.

More importantly, it would help with the SATs. Joan had taken them for the third time last Saturday, and she still had not managed to break 2300. All four of her tutors were very disappointed.



Finally, school had ended. Joan raced off to her job at the Center For Helping Little Children. Every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday she would go there and help little children. On Tuesdays and Fridays she had a different job. She volunteered at the Society of Protecting Our Furry Friends. She already had a college essay planned out about how saving puppies and little children had entirely changed her view of the world.



At five, she said good bye to her supervisor and went home for dinner. She snagged a power bar off of the counter and went into her room to finish all the homework she hadn’t finished and start the homework due later.



She went to bed at 4:30 AM.

Story: Carnal, Bloody and Unnatural Acts

You want me to tell you Hamlet’s story? It’s not a happy one, I warn you. You know the ending, of course. Hamlet dies. The king, the queen, the advisor and both his children, the two false friends, all of them died. That’s when you showed up, my Lord Fortinbras.

I wanted to die too. Hamlet has been my friend for years. Living on while he’s in Heaven – it just doesn’t seem right. I suppose I should start at the beginning, though.

I went to Castle Elsinore several months ago to pay my respects to the dead king. I hadn’t expected to be assailed with tales of ghosts the moment I stepped onto the grounds. Bernardo and Marcellus are two guards of the castle. When they told me they had seen King Hamlet walking the castle grounds, I of course didn’t believe them. Ghosts? Simply tales made up to scare small children. At least, that’s what I’d thought.

Bernardo and Marcellus convinced me accompany them on their watch and see if the ghost appeared. I was surprised and terrified out of my mind when the ghost actually did appear. I was expecting a trick, not a real ghost.

Marcellus and Bernardo asked me what they should do. The only thing I could think to do was tell Prince Hamlet what we had seen.

Why Prince Hamlet and not King Claudius? Hamlet had always been my friend, and I knew that he would know I would not joke about this. I didn’t know at the time that King Claudius had killed King Hamlet, but it never even occurred to me to tell Claudius what had happened. Hamlet would want to know first, and that was reason enough for me to tell him.

When Marcellus and I found him, Hamlet was upset about the marriage of his mother and his uncle so soon after his father had died. Who wouldn’t be? It was a rather abrupt wedding. Hamlet was the only one who seemed to still be mourning the dead king.

Hamlet was as intrigued by the ghost as I’d thought he would be. He joined Marcellus and me the next night. The ghost appeared and bid Hamlet follow it.

Of course I tried to stop him. Marcellus and I both did. Though the ghost had the form of King Hamlet, we knew it could simply be a demon’s trick. Hamlet knew too, but he just didn’t care. He was that eager to hear his father’s voice again. He would not be stopped. Hamlet went so far as to threaten us when we tried to stop him.

We weren’t going to leave Hamlet alone with the ghost in such a state. We ran after him. When we’d caught up, the ghost was gone. Hamlet refused to tell us what the ghost had said, but he did make us swear by his sword never to tell what we’d seen. To this day, I never have, but Hamlet asked me to tell his story to the world, and the ghost is important.

It wasn’t until later that I found out the ghost’s message. He had told Hamlet that his death had not been a natural one. King Hamlet had been murdered by his brother, Claudius.

Hamlet had already disliked Claudius for marrying his mother so soon after his father died. Knowing the full story, though, made Hamlet loathe Claudius.

It was after learning the nature of King Hamlet’s death that Hamlet’s madness began.

I say madness only because that is what everyone called it. Hamlet was never mad. He pretended to have lost his mind to allay suspicion while he proved the ghost had been telling the truth and avenged his father. I’ll admit, there were times even I doubted his sanity. I worried that he took the act too far, and I blamed myself for telling him about the accursed ghost.

He was sane, though, and he thought of the perfect test. A play mimicking the death of King Hamlet as the ghost had told it. If Claudius had killed the King, he would be unable to hide his guilt when faced with such a clear representation of it. Hamlet asked me to watch for the King’s reaction so that we could compare after the show.

It went even better than we could have hoped. The King stopped the play after the murder scene and demanded light. Hamlet knew the ghost had spoken true, and he knew he had to kill King Claudius to avenge his father.

Have I mentioned Polonius at all yet? He was the King’s spymaster and advisor. He also was a bit of a fool, and very fond of the sound of his own voice.

He was there when Hamlet went to speak to his mother. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know Hamlet killed Polonius and hid the body. It had been an accident, but I don’t know any more than that of the circumstances.

The king sent Hamlet to England to have him executed. He did not know that Hamlet planned to kill him, but he was afraid. He sent Hamlet off with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two so-called friends of Hamlet who traded loyalty to their friend for the favors of the king.

While Hamlet was away, things only grew more rotten. Polonius’ daughter, Ophelia, lost her mind and drowned herself. Laertes, Polonius’ son, came pounding on the castle doors, yelling for revenge.

Luckily, Hamlet never arrived in England. He ended up on a pirate ship, and they brought him back to Denmark. Before even meeting the pirates, he switched the death warrant that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern carried with one asking for the immediate death of the bearers. That is the only reason that they were killed.

After Hamlet and I reunited, we found ourselves watching the funeral procession for Ophelia. I had not had a chance to tell him of her death.

Laertes jumped into the grave and demanded to be buried alive with Ophelia. Hamlet couldn’t take Laertes’ dramatics. He had loved Ophelia. He snapped. He jumped into the grave with Laertes, and the two of them fought.

When we had separated them, Hamlet told me more fully of his short trip. We received the message that the King had placed a bet on Hamlet’s dueling skills. He wanted Laertes and Hamlet to fence before the court.

Hamlet was uneasy about it, but he refused to be dissuaded. He agreed to fence Laertes.

He had been right to be uneasy. Laertes and Claudius had plotted Hamlet’s death. One of the blades had been sharpened and dipped in poison so potent that a cut would be deadly. In case that wasn’t enough, the king had poisoned Hamlet’s drink.

You’ve seen the result. The queen drank the poisoned cup, Laertes slew Hamlet with the poisoned blade, Hamlet slew Laertes and the King, and he stopped me from drinking the poison to follow him.

That is how all of these deaths came to pass. It was Hamlet’s dying wish that you, Fortinbras, should become Denmark’s new ruler. He asked me to tell you. I shall continue to live and tell his story. Good luck with Denmark. It may have begun to heal, but there’s a long way yet to go.

Story: The Tricks Life Plays on You

I hate Wednesdays. Little known fact: Wednesdays are Odin's days. Odin's a great guy, don't get me wrong, but have you seen any Loki days out there? Seriously, it isn't fair at all. I get such a bad rep. People are so biased against gods who like to have a little fun.

Right, so Wednesdays. This Wednesday, for instance. I was driving down the freeway, having a great time and listening to the radio when the music ended and some boring talk show began. I'd have changed the channel, but it was an interview with some religious studies major. I love listening to mortals talk about gods. It's just so cute.

Anyway, this chick, Dr. Amelia Nondieu had been doing a scientific study on gods in general.

Like we have anything to do with science. Totally ridiculous.

It was all very interesting and hilarious, but then she said something that made me stomp on the breaks.

"We've recently come up with scientific evidence that proves definitively that there is no higher power."

For about thirty seconds I just sat there, parked in the middle of the freeway. Then I cracked up.

No higher powers? What did she know? I wasn't going to let some stupid mortal tell me whether or not I exist. That'd just be stupid.

I changed the channel and stomped on the gas. I needed a drink.

Of course, fate would not be so kind. First, I had to deal with a speeding ticket. Me! You'd think gods would be exempt from that kind of thing. I mean, not that the idiot who stopped me knew I was a god, but still.

I mean, I was only going along at what, hundred, hundred fifty miles per hour? Sure, it's above the speed limit, but I wasn't hitting anything. Few near misses, just enough to get people scared, but y'know, all in good fun.

Cops don't think it's so funny, though. Wasn't too long until I heard sirens behind me.

I thought about letting them chase me.

Thing is, I really liked the car I'd stolen, and magic's really hard on a good pair of wheels.

I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and transformed into a woman. Body like a goddess, of course. Aphrodite, actually. Sure, she isn't in my pantheon, but have you seen that chick? Knocks the socks off Sif, our goddess of beauty.

Not that the uncultured moron in blue noticed.

"Hey, you got a license, Miss...?" he asked.

I gave a girlish giggle. "Lucy," I said. "Lucy Swindler."

"Miss Swindler," he said. "License."

I rummaged around the glove compartment and patted myself down. He watched my hands and I let myself flush.

"Gee, officer, seems like I don't have it," I said, pouting cutely. "Any chance you could let me off with a warning?"

He was tempted. I could smell it. Not surprising, considering the pheromones I was giving out. Gotta love mortals. So predictable.

"I...uh, I shouldn't," he said.

I leaned forward. "I'd be...very...grateful," I whispered throatily.

And he was mine. We had a nice tumble in the back seat. Best part was when I let the female enchantment go away. Poor guy couldn't figure out what had happened to the sexy babe he'd bedded. He was still babbling when I hit the road again. No idea what happened to him after that. Probably went home to his wife and wrote it off as a bad dream.

Yeah, I coulda produced a license. Could have even produced a badge or something. Heh, that could have been funny. I could have yelled at Officer Dimwit for ruining a case I'd been working on.

This was more fun, though. And a little more of a challenge. Seriously, I'm the God of Mischief. You expect me to do things the easy way? Trouble's the only reason I exist.

Problem was, I just couldn't get what Dr. Nondieu said out of my mind. Sure, I know I exist no matter what anyone says, but not all the other gods are as smart as I am. And truth be told, we kind of depend on people to exist. I mean, without mortals, we're kind of screwed. I mean, sure, Odin used the giant Ymir's body to create the world, but he wouldn't have if people didn't exist. People and gods created each other, you know?

If you're confused at this point, I don't blame you. It's really complicated and probably involves quantum

I turned onto the exit without slowing down. There had to be a good bar around here somewhere. I mean, there was a college nearby.

I parked my car and put on Baldur's face. He's our other god of beauty. He doesn't actually know that I sometimes wear his shape. Probably wouldn't be too happy if he knew. He's a little pissed about the fact that I'll someday trick Hod, the God of poetry and darkness, into shooting him with an arrow made from mistletoe, the only material that can kill him. Man, some people can hold a grudge.

I smirked at the mirror as I entered. I could feel the girls (and a few of the guys) turning to look at me. I sauntered up to the bar and ordered two drinks. One for me, and one for a pretty girl sitting at a table in the corner.

When the waiter brought her the drink, she looked up at me and smiled, so I walked over.

"This seat taken?" I asked.

"No," she said. "You bought me this drink?"

"Yeah," I said, flashing her a grin. "Name's Luke."

"Amelia," she said. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," I said. "I'm a God you know."

"Yeah?" she said, amused.

"Oh yeah," I said. "All my previous lovers could tell you."

Amelia laughed. "Actually, funny you should mention gods."

"Why?" I said, raising my glass to take a drink.

"I actually just published an article about that. I proved that God can't possibly exist."

I coughed, spitting my drink back into the cup. Disgusting, but what can you do?

"Amelia Nondieu?" I said.

"You've heard of me?" she asked, sounding pleased.

"Radio," I said. "You're wrong, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have taken you for a religious man. I mean, Luke may be a very Christian name, but..."

"You're wrong!" I said. "Look, I know Gods exist!"

She frowned. "You know, it's funny, but I could have sworn you had brown eyes when you walked in here."

I slammed my drink down and rushed to the bathroom. My face. How could I have reverted without noticing? I tried to change back.

I couldn't. It wasn't working. I had to get out of there.

I left the bathroom and swallowed the rest of my drink. "You're wrong," I told Amelia again. "Gods exist." She simply smiled.

I only barely managed to refrain from running to the door. I went to my car and willed my hands to stop shaking. It wasn't true. Gods exist. I exist. Nondieu knew nothing.

Once I was on the road again, I began to feel better. My inability to change? Just a momentary flux in my powers. It happened occasionally, especially around people who were that strongly atheist. Momentary insecurity. Science and religion were such entirely different realms that the idea of the two mixing was absurd. I shifted shapes a few times, just to prove to myself that I could.

Not a huge shocker that I got insecure about the article, though. The thing is, life's pretty tough for gods these days. All the old temples? All the prayers? Gone. People still worship the ideas I stand for, sure, but I haven't gotten a good sacrifice for centuries. Doing better than Thor, at least. No one worships storms anymore, but there are plenty of pranks and tricks and general nasty folk following me. Christianity kind of blows. One god taking all he prayers? Man, that's greedy. Okay, I kind of wish I'd thought of it first.

Anyway, studies like these could be self-fulfilling. If enough people believed that article, it could wipe us out. I almost believed her, and if I couldn't believe in myself, who would?

Forget mortals. I needed to make sure the stupider members of our pantheon hadn't read the article. Or that they weren't taking it seriously if they had.

I veered sharply off the road and drove to Thor's apartment. Of course the idiot lives at the top of an apartment building. He probably goes up to the roof during storms and waves his hammer Mjollnir around, too.

I turned into a bird and flew up to the window. I landed and pecked on the glass.

Thor didn't look up. Uh oh.

I pecked harder. He ignored me.

Great. I turned into a gust of wind and wriggled through the crack between the window and the wall. Not an easy fit, let me tell you.

"What's up?" I said, turning back into myself.

Thor sighed heavily and glared.

"Geeze, someone stick Mjollnir up your ass or something?"

"Don't be crude, Loki," Thor said. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" I asked.

"We don't exist," Thor said. "Any moment we'll vanish."

"Great," I said. He'd heard. Why did thunder gods have to be so moody? "Don't you have a wife to explain these things to you?"

"Sif's out shopping with Baldur," Thor said. "Explain what?"

"Thor, you are like a brother to me, and I hope you understand that I mean absolutely no offense, but you are a complete and utter idiot."

He growled, eyes flashing. "There was a scientific study done that proved it," he said. The room darkened, and sparks ran through Thor's beard. I hate when he does that. He is such a drama queen. Plus, it scares the shit out of me.

"Quit it, Thor. My point is, are you really going to believe science? What has science ever done?"

"Microwave ovens," Thor said.

"Geeze, do you have to be so literal?" I asked. "Gods and science have nothing in common, Thor."

"But science proved it!" Thor said.

"Look, I'll disprove it." I punched him in the arm, hard. Not like I could hurt him, the big lout. "You've just been hit by a god."

"But the scientist said –"

"Who are you going to believe, me or a scientist?"

Thor glanced at me. "You're the Prince of Lies, Loki."

Why did my reputation have to catch up with me at the worst times?

"Yes, but I'm not lying right now, Thor. We exist. Clearly. And we're gods. Also clearly. Therefore, gods exist."

"What you're saying makes sense," Thor said. "But I read Dr. Nondieu's article. It made a lot of sense too."

"Where'd you read it?" I asked.

He handed me National Geographics.

"Since when have you read this sort of thing?" I asked him.

"I like the pictures of thunder storms," he said defensively.

"Someone's obsessed," I muttered. I flipped through the magazine until I found the relevant article.

"Watch carefully," I said. I grabbed hold of the article and ripped it out of the magazine.

"Hey!" Thor said. "That's my magazine!"

"Uh huh," I said. "And these pages are full of dirty, filthy lies."

"Hrmph," Thor grunted.

"Anyway, have I convinced you?"

"I guess so," Thor said reluctantly.

"So you'll stop sulking?"

"I wasn't sulking," Thor said.

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn –"

"It's not important," I said quickly. "If you're not waiting to disappear, my work here is done."

Thor's eyes flashed again. "You knew about this before?" he said. Thunder crackled outside. "You came here just to convince me it wasn't true?"

"Also for the pleasure of your company, of course!" I said quickly. "Stop it, Thor!"

"How do I know you had nothing to do with this article?"

"Would I do something like that?"

"You've made people doubt their own existence before," Thor said.

"How do you know about that?" I asked.

"You talk a lot when you're drunk. Last New Year's." Thor smirked.

At least it was better from the gloomy existentialism.

"I was too busy watching Baldur freak out about the mistletoe to pay attention to what I was saying."

"And you are a jerk for even bringing that plant," he said. "That's not even one of our traditions!"

"But it was funny," I said.

"Not to Baldur," Thor said. "He didn't calm down until Sif took him to that spa."

"That's funny too," I said.

"You're not nice, Loki."

"Please. He's freaking invulnerable to everything else. He's just a wimp."

"Loki," Thor said, eyes flashing again.

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again!" I said. "Well, until I eventually murder him, but hey, that won't happen until close to the end of the world."

"And you wonder why the other gods don't like you," Thor said.

"I think that's my cue to leave," I said. "Cheer up, Thor. No one likes a stormy thunder god."

"Bye, Loki. Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

"Don't plan to," I said, turning into a gust of wind again. "I'm not using the door."

I flew out of the window and soared down to the street. Convincing Thor had been a good idea. I certainly would never let Thor know, but the article had made me a little uncomfortable. It couldn't possibly be true, of course, but it had been worrying. Convincing Thor had also convinced me. I existed.

Some police officer had given me a ticket while I was away. With a snap of my fingers, I incinerated it.

It was good to be me.