Although we mostly talk about writing here at TKZ, your answer to this question can be related to any aspect of life, whether it’s craft-related or something more personal in nature:  what important new skill or lesson about life did you learn in 2016?

Let’s talk a bit about explosives, shall we?  After such a warm reception to back-to-back posts on guns and bullets, it seems like a natural progression.  This post is going to address some of the technical concepts behind what explosions are, and why they do so much damage.  Two weeks from today, I’ll go into more detail on the proper applications of explosives.

Understanding the essentials of overpressure.  All day every day, each of us carries on our shoulders (and the rest of our bodies) the weight of our atmosphere.  All of that nitrogen and oxygen and water vapor has mass, after all, and it exerts a pressure at sea level of 14.5 pounds per square inch (psi) of surface area.  Take that number literally.  Every area of 10 square inches of surface area is carrying a pressure (think weight) of 145 pounds; every 1,000 inches of surface area is bearing the burden of 1,450 pounds.  Like that.  Scientists and engineers refer to the pressure of “one atmosphere” (14.5 psi) as 1 “bar”.  Twice that pressure would be called two bars, and so forth.  Any pressure that exceeds one bar is called “overpressure”.  The greater the magnitude, the greater the resulting damage.

One way we experience relatively harmless overpressure every day is sound.  When we speak or clap our hands, we send waves of pressure through the air that our ears register as sound.  The decibel scale, then, is actually a measure of overpressure, wherein every three-decibel increase represents a doubling of sound pressure.  When someone whispers, he crfeates an overpressure of about 13 decibels, which is measured in microbars (millionths of one bar).  As noise increases in intensity, the pressure increases geometrically.  We start seeing glass breakage at 163dB.  At 195 dB, we reach a one-bar overpressure the equivalent of an additional atmosphere of pressure.  Ear drums will almost certainly rupture at that level.  A Space Shuttle launch exerts about 215 dB at its surface.

My point here is that sound and pressure are the same thing.  It’s an important concept to keep in mind when we talk about explosions, because the practical definition of an explosion is the rapid expansion of gases that creates an audible boom.  A latex balloon goes pop when you stick a pin in it because the expanding flexible surface of the balloon has trapped gas under pressure.  As soon as the pressure vessel fails, the gas instantly reconverts to atmospheric pressure and the suddenness of it all creates a ripple of pressure that we register as an explosion.  If you stick a pin into a Mylar balloon, however, there’ll be no pop because there’s no expansion.

Still with me?  Okay, here we go.

A gunshot makes a loud boom because the combustion gases which propel the bullet down the barrel are under tremendous pressure until they get to the opening at the muzzle, at which point they instantly expand and reduce to atmospheric pressure, disturbing all the still air that was surrounding it.  A suppressor (“silencer”) works by dissipating those pressures through baffles in the barrel of the device to the point that they are nearly reduced to ambient pressure by the time they are released to the atmosphere.  Thus, no bang.

Why the Speed of Sound Matters.  The speed of sound (767 mph) is essentially the speed at which air molecules can move out of each other’s way.  When anything moves faster than 767 mph–whether it’s an airplane, a bullet or super-heated gases–air molecules stack up on the leading edge of the speeding mass because they can’t get out of the way and they create more pressure–sometimes a lot more pressure.  And as we discussed when talking about bullets, since nature abhors imbalance, as soon as the speeding mass passes by, it is followed by and equal yet opposite negative pressure (a “rarefaction” wave).  When this pressure fluctuation is caused by a speeding jet, the resulting explosion is called a sonic boom, and it is often powerful enough to shatter glass.  When it’s caused by munitions or certain other events, we call the resulting explosion a blast wave, and it is often powerful enough to reduce buildings and people to vapor–literally.

An explosion whose blast wave travels faster than the speed of sound is called a “detonation”.  If the blast wave travels at less than supersonic speed, it’s called a “deflagration”.  To put that in perspective, TNT detonates; napalm deflagrates.

The military and international community refer to detonable explosives as Class 1.1 explosives (“Class One, Division One), while the American civilian community refers to them as Class A explosives.  Deflagrable, or mass-fire, explosives are referred to as Class 1.3 (Class One, Division Three) or Class B explosives respectively.  Most fireworks are Class B.

Primary vs. Secondary Explosives.  Blowing stuff up requires trade-offs.  For example, you want it to go bang on time every time, yet you never want it to go off unexpectedly.  Given these constraints, how do you transport your boomers from here to there and not yourself become humidity in the process?

The solution is to make the main charge of deployable bombs relatively hard to set off.  For example, you can shoot a block of C-4 explosive with a bullet and it won’t explode, but you can cut off a chunk and use it to safely start a fire.  Similarly, if a bomber crashes on takeoff, the bombs it carries will not explode.  (Both of the above examples ignore the presence of gremlins, who so often prove us engineering types to be full of it.)  These main charges are called “secondary explosives” because in order to get them to explode you need to hit them with a “primary” detonation wave.  That’s what blasting caps, or detonators, or initiators, are all about.

Primary explosives are highly energetic, stupidly sensitive explosives that will go high-order (detonate) on impact or in response to a tickling charge of electricity.  The primer in the back end of a bullet is a primary explosive.  So is the active ingredient of a blasting cap.  When those babies go off, they send a supersonic wave of energy into the secondary explosive, thereby causing it to detonate.

We’ve all seen those old newsreels of a B17 squadron during World War Two dropping bombs out of their bellies, and then the flicker of explosions way down there on the ground.  What you don’t see is the progression of events that made those explosions possible.  On takeoff, none of the bombs is yet capable of exploding because the fuses have not yet been activated.  As they fall, however, a tiny propeller spins off the nose of the bomb and in the process arms the fuse.  When the fuse encounters the proper conditions–altitude, in the case of an air burst, or impact in the case of an impact or penetration explosion–the fuse triggers the primary charge which sends a blast of energy through the secondary charge and the bomb goes off.

Okay, that’s it for tonight.  By now, I figure you’re either bored to tears or totally jazzed.  Either way, I’ll be back with more explosive material in a couple of weeks.

Photo from Game of Thrones

By PJ Parrish

Top of the morning to you all.  I’m prepping to get out of town for turkey day up in Michigan so I am offering up a submission from one of our fellow writers. It’s titled The Dragon Within. Many thanks to our writer-submitter for letting us use his/her story for our learning purposes here. My comments follow, but please weigh in, fellow TKZers, with your input.

The Dragon Within

“Are there dragons in the elven lands?” Matthew whispered, his gaze lingering on the wooden boat carrying their mother’s body towards Illethia.

Shael ignored their eldest brother’s derisive snort. With the tip of her thumb, she wiped a tear off Matthew’s cheek. “I don’t know,” she said. “But Mum’s in the arms of Zy’el now, and He’ll protect her.”

Shael glanced at the tiny group of neighbours and friends who had accompanied them to the beach to bid Joella farewell. She knew each one well, had known them since she was a child, but life had taught her the worse dragons were those posing as friends. She squeezed Matthew’s hand and drew him closer. He was only ten. With Mum’s passing, she had to be both sister and mother to him. And she had to keep him safe.

The boat with the eye of Zy’el painted on its bow, drifted towards the elven lands. Ripples expanded from the vessel and broke up on the sand by Shael’s feet.

The waves did not bring Mum back.

Why had Mum insisted on a traditional sea burial and wanted her remains sent towards Illethia, towards the land of the enemy? The brooding outline of Illethia, a mass of darkness against the early morning orange-grey horizon, was a constant reminder of what had been and what could return to threaten the Inner Lands. Mum’s choice of funeral was bound to give rise to talk. Talk led to questions. Mum had known more than anyone what the elven had done to their family. To Shael. She knew that mere suspicion could get the whole family executed.

Yet Mum had secretly continued to love and respect them, even after it became a crime punishable by death. If only Mum had told her more about the elven. It was too late to ask now. Not that she ever answered Shael’s questions about them.

Shael raised her hand to her headscarf. The wind was picking up, but practice had taught her the best way to tie the scarf tight around her head. The scarf was in place and their secret safe. For now.

_________________________________________

First, a qualifier from me: I am guessing this story falls into the fantasy realm, given the “dragon” reference and what might be a nod to Tolkien’s “Elven lands.”  Full disclosure, this genre is not my main cup of tea. But that shouldn’t matter. A good story is a good story is a good story.  So let’s see if it works on that basis.

I like that the writer opened with a dramatic moment — a funeral that places our protagonist (I assume Shael is such) at the brink of a life-changing conjuncture. We get the sense that Shael is facing two challenges: the new responsibility of raising her young brother and that her mother, for unknown reasons, has left her in a fix by conspiring with the enemy elven. (at least I think that’s what’s going on here…more on that in a moment.)

I also like that the writer is using “dragons” on two levels.  Dragons are a real threat in the mind of the boy (he asks, do they even exist?). Dragons are also a metaphoric threat to Shael, who sees her neighbors as dangerous if they learn the truth about Mum. And there is even a richer, possible third meaning to “dragon.” More on that later..

But all of this is a bit cloudy in the telling. I am not totally certain of what is going on in this critical opening scene and I need to be.  The narrative tells me this:

Why had Mum insisted on a traditional sea burial and wanted her remains sent towards Illethia, towards the land of the enemy? The brooding outline of Illethia, a mass of darkness against the early morning orange-grey horizon, was a constant reminder of what had been and what could return to threaten the Inner Lands. Mum’s choice of funeral was bound to give rise to talk. Talk led to questions. Mum had known more than anyone what the elven had done to their family. To Shael. She knew that mere suspicion could get the whole family executed.

Yet Mum had secretly continued to love and respect them, even after it became a crime punishable by death. If only Mum had told her more about the elven. It was too late to ask now. Not that she ever answered Shael’s questions about them.

I am left to guess that this “viking” burial at sea is not usual, especially since the boat is apparently being cast off toward the enemy land across the bay. Why would Mum want this when apparently it was a betrayal of some kind since the elven had harmed Shael and the family at one time.  And Mum had apparently “secretly” loved the elven, even though it was a crime. This is all fine and good for establishing a sense of intrigue and potential conflict but I wish the writer wouldn’t be so obtuse in the telling.  We need a little more context and less confusion here.  Maybe this is just because I am not “versed” in fantasy, but don’t we need to know what the elven are? Is this a tribe? A different race? An adjective for elf? If the last one, are Shael and her ilk human? Those of you who are big fantasy readers out there please comment and let me know if I am just being dense here.

Another point: When you are creating an un-real world (heck even a real one!) you have to give us the context of setting. Outside of one image of what Illethia looks like across the water, I don’t know where the heck I am — or what era we are in. What does this place look like? What are the people wearing (one head scarf reference, that for a moment, sent me careening into the mid-east). Please don’t neglect your setting.  I call this the coma-victim-syndrome: Where am I? Who are these strange people? What year it is? Who am I? Which begs the important point…

I need a few more hints about our protagonist. How old is she? Can you drop some clues in that give us a picture? Also, we could use some more emotion from her. I don’t get a sense of what kind of person she is.

Before I go into my line edits, one last word on names. What you call your characters is so very important, as proper names help ground the reader in the world you are creating. If this protag were named Jackie Gilmore, well, we know we’re not in Elven land. So this writer, by choosing the odd names, signposts that we are in fantasy-land. That’s good! But I got hung up on the fact that both Matthew and Shael are Hebrew names. And “Mum” is straight out of England’s Cotwolds. Then we get the land names: Zy’el, which sort of sounds Hebrew or maybe sci-fi, and Illethia, which is also the name of a video game warlord.  Here’s my take on this: When you are conjuring up un-real worlds, when you are working in sci-fi or fantasy, you must be doubly cautious about your naming. You need to have a consistency in tone that acts as a bridge for the reader when he ventures from the real world to your un-real one.  These names sound a bit too magpie-picked to me.

Let’s go to the line edits…

“Are there dragons in the elven lands?” Matthew whispered, his gaze lingering on the wooden boat carrying their mother’s body towards Illethia. Yes, you can open your story with a quote and this one is pretty darn good — there be dragons! — because it works on several levels. But I think it is diluted in its impact by attaching that phrase afterward and by using the confusing elven reference too soon.  How about this:

“Are there dragons out there?”

Shael looked down to the source of the tiny voice, down to her brother Matthew standing at her side. He wasn’t looking at her. He was watching the small wooden boat drift away from shore, the boat that held the body of their mother.

She reached down and wiped a tear off Matthew’s cheek. “I don’t know,” she said. “But mother’s in the arms of Zy’el now. He will protect her.”

But even as she said it, Shael feared it wasn’t true. Through the orange-gray morning mist, she could just make out the brooding outline of Illethia across the bay. The boat bearing her mother’s body was heading toward the land of their enemies. And that was the way their mother had planned. It had been her last wish.

I think a down-and-dirty summary of the central conflict needs to be stated quickly and up high. Then you can move on and flesh in some details. Moving on…

Shael ignored their eldest brother’s derisive snort. I find the insertion of this other brother intrusive in the nice moment between Shael and Matt. Bring him in later. With the tip of her thumb, she wiped a tear off Matthew’s cheek. “I don’t know,” she said. “But Mum’s in the arms of Zy’el now, and He’ll protect her.”

Shael glanced at the tiny group of neighbours and friends who had accompanied them to the beach to bid Joella farewell. She knew each one well, had known them since she was a child, but this line about neighors being dragons it important. Set it off in its own sentence! She had known them since she was a child. But life had taught her that the real dragons were those posing as friends. life had taught her the worse dragons were those posing as friends. She squeezed Matthew’s hand and drew him closer. He was only ten. With Mum’s passing, she had to be both sister and mother to him. And she had to keep him safe.

The boat with the eye of Zy’el painted on its bow, drifted towards the elven lands. Ripples expanded from the vessel and broke up on the sand by Shael’s feet. Here’s a place to drop in a hint about setting and culture: Is she wearing sandals, fur winter boots, barefoot?  The waves did not bring Mum back. Nice ripple image above but what does this line mean? Of course they can’t. Turn it around maybe, and say, the waves were pushing mother ever farther away?  And maybe that can work as a segue to Shael’s next thought — that maybe something else, an even stronger force, had been pushing her mother away long before now? Pushing her away from even Shael? Make your imagery mean something!

And we really need something to break up the backstory it’s-all-in-her-head narrative section that comes next. Show me this, don’t tell me. How about having one of people in the crowd come up and say something to Shael about this odd funeral? That could more gracefully illicit her thoughts. How about…

An old man came up to stand next to them. Matthew backed away but Shael held her ground. 

“Why did she do this?” the old man muttered.

Shael tensed. There was no way he could know what mother had done, how she had really loved the Elven. But the anger in the old man’s eyes was real.

“Why did your mother insist on this old sea burial?” the old man pressed.

Then go into Shael thoughts about it.  Find a way to break up the backstory. And slowly build the tension in it. Maybe she gives a vague answer to the old man and then she can try to analyze this situation in her head. Mother knew this ritual funeral would make people talk. People had always been suspicious of her anyway. And maybe hint that Shael herself might harbor some suspicions about her dead mother like, why would she do this, why would she love the enemy, even after what it did to our family. Even after what it did to ME.  Again, by setting that ME on its own, you give Shael’s personal conflict weight.  You must make the story be about your protag’s journey, whether it is back to Illethia to fight the enemy, or find out the truth about her mother. WHAT DOES SHAEL WANT? At a superficial level, to protect her family. But what about the deeper levels — why did mother betray me and love the enemy that hurt me? 

Why had Mum insisted on a traditional sea burial and wanted her remains sent towards Illethia, towards the land of the enemy? The brooding outline of Illethia, a mass of darkness against the early morning orange-grey horizon, Lovely image here but what is lacking? We have no sense of what our surroundings look like. Are we in a fjord? English countryside? It is summer? How about the people dressed? We have no sense of setting at all here, alas, and I sense this is an interesting place geographically. was a constant reminder of what had been and what could return to threaten the Inner Lands. Is this the name of her country? Mum’s choice of funeral was bound to give rise to talk. Talk led to questions. Do more with this? Questions about the past? Mum had known more than anyone what the elven had done to their family. To Shael. She knew that mere suspicion could get the whole family executed.  This is very important and you need to set this apart so we understand it.  In newspaper talk, this is called burying your lead. When you are listing a litany of ills like this, put your most important one, the one that impacts your protag most, LAST.  Try this…

The people in the town, the people Shael had known all her life, they had only suspicions about what had happened. But Mother knew. She knew what the elven had done. She knew what the elven had done to their family.

Shael looked out at the water, to the boat that was now just a small dark smudge in the mist.

Mother knew what they did to me.  

Yet Mum had secretly continued to love and respect the Elven, even after it became a crime punishable by death. If only Mum had told her more about the elven. It was too late to ask now. Not that she ever answered Shael’s questions about them. Again, you are being a tad too obtuse about this central important conflict between mother and daughter. Ask yourself: What is my story about?  I suspect, at its heart, it is about family secrets and how a daughter comes to grips with something bad her mother did. Great stuff!

Shael raised her hand to her headscarf. The wind was picking up, but practice had taught her the best way to tie the scarf tight around her head. The scarf was in place and their secret safe. For now.  I’m not sure what this means. The simple act of tying a scarf tight keeps a lid on things? The metaphor is a bit too spot-on.  Find a way to SHOW me this thought, rather than tell me.  Maybe it works better if the scarf flies away? And maybe that draws a reaction from the old man or crowd?  Make things happen in your narrative that illuminate the interior actions (thoughts and backstory). 

Well, that’s it. In summary, brave writer, I like where you are going with this. I love that you open with a funeral that sets up the conflict. But I sense that you might not yet know your protagonist well enough YET to articulate what she wants, what her essential inner struggle and journey will be.  As James always asks, what will be her “woman in the mirror” moment deep in your book? What will she face that will change her in some fundamental way? What is your story about? It’s not about war between Illethia and the Inner Lands. It’s not even about a young woman protecting her family. It’s about something deep inside the woman herself.  Find that truth and you will find your story’s heart. It’s never about the action; it is about character. It is always about the DRAGON WITHIN.

Thanks for submitting and keep moving onward!

Let’s turn our thoughts today to the subject of happiness and finding inner peace. What’s your go-to method for achieving balance and harmony in life? Does the discipline of writing help you stay balanced and impact your mood in a positive way, or is it more like a daily chore?

And if you need some inspiration along those lines, please enjoy Ray Bradbury’s “Zen in the Art of Writing”.

https://youtu.be/YnVPFPCuuJc