The Reader Travels

The Blood of the Templar is not so much a road trip book as historical fiction with a fantastical twist, but there’s a long journey from the holy lands to Paris then London and back again. It even opens with a chase scene.

The Knights Templar have long been a subject for conspiracy theorists and lovers of intrigue. Most recently Dan Brown brought these theories to the masses with The Da Vinci Code (which I haven’t read); and popular movies like National Treasure took us on parallel adventures connecting the Masons and the Templar to ever more layers of conspiracy. And we mustn’t forget The Illuminatus! Trilogy, which was a conspiracy in and of itself.

But no one has dared to speak the real truth about the Templar, that the inner circle lived in darkness and actually fed on the blood of their enemies. Not until now. 

What I really like about this book are the historical elements. We see the tensions between the Knights Templar and their rival Knights Hospitaller (a.k.a., the Knights of St. John).  But the best part is looking deeper into the holy struggle between Muslims and Christians, where both sides are righteous and both eternally flawed.

Okay, so I said I was going to talk about this last week, but I got all nostalgic thinking about The Talisman. No surprise, my travels meandered. But I’m back on the road now.

Jack’s road trip took him from New England to northern California, a cross country trek that would be treacherous enough for a 12-year-old boy, even if he weren’t flipping into parallel worlds along the way. In this other world, there was greater danger, but the distances were shorter, so he could travel much quicker along the parallel road, if he was willing to take the risk.

That’s where the concept of risk and return comes in. He could take the slower, steadier path and be less likely to die at the hands of his arch enemy, or take the fast road through fantasy land and face the higher dangers of an unpredictable world.

Suddenly I feel like reading The Talisman again. You have to admit, it would be more fun than reading this.

When I think of The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub, I think of love and romance. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing lovey-dovey about this story. There’s no boy-meets-girl, no smooching, no wedding in the end. It’s a buddy road trip tale about a twelve-year-old kid named Jack and his werewolf. There’s action and adventure and alternate worlds, heroes and villains and life lessons learned.

No, it’s romantic to me because the second time I read it was out loud, in bed, with a best-friend turned lover. I know what you’re thinking, awwww.  I think back on that time with a certain longing, that we could spend days in bed reading to each other, traveling together on these long adventures.

But it’s not that the romance is gone seventeen years later. I’m not thinking, “You don’t bring me flowers anymore.” I know exactly what happened. My mouth happened.

I get it from my mother this critical gene. But I figured he’d want to know if he was pronouncing something wrong. I mean, wouldn’t you want to know? Now, seventeen years later we’re getting past all that. He’s starting to ask me how to pronounce words he’s read but never heard. He’s even reading out loud to me again, mostly from his own work, but it’s a start.

So I’ve been working for a financial services company for 11 years, as a writer, a programmer and a project manager. I’ve considered myself an artist, a creator and a leader, but never a financial wizard. Deep inside, I’ve resisted being that person, even if I put away my black denim jacket, long hippy skirts and my back-pack five years past.

I could edit your financial materials so they made sense. I could turn your formulas into online calculators and business applications. I could lead and understand more about finance than your average lay-person. But I can’t really get it all until I get licensed. It’s not like I’m selling out, I’m learning more so I can do a better job, right?

Long story short, I’m working on my Series 7 securities license. But the artist, the philosopher in me is making connections with this new information. And I’m thinking a lot about the theories of risk and return… as they relate to road travel.

Driving down Northwest Highway to work, I found myself in the middle lane behind a long line of cars. The left-hand lane was equally stacked up, but there was only one car at the light up ahead on the right. I could go for the immediate return, but I risked being stuck behind a city bus that might be laying in wait around the curve up ahead. My risk paid off. I got ahead of the long line of cars and got out before I encountered the bus(t).

Driving to a car shop the other day, my man and I drove separate cars. The freeway was backed up, but the service road seemed to be flowing very smoothly. I knew that up ahead there were lights on the service road, so I took the slow and steady path of the freeway. He decided to take the risk and stay on the service road. He got stuck at the lights, but he still made it to the shop before I got there. I was the moderate investor who knew that I would eventually make my goal, while he was the more aggressive investor, accepting the risks but ultimately making a faster return.

And that is today’s lesson on highway finance. Tune in next week for a literary look at this concept featuring Stephen King’s The Talisman.