Amethyst is a digital short story that I originally wrote just to see if I could pull off a blind character... with the idea that a blind man wouldn't be scared of the dark. My mind worked in all kinds of interesting angles, including an incident that occurred straight out of the history books. I've tweaked it, of course, fictionalizing events, changing names, and making up entirely new and chilling motivations. This is one of my faves; I'm most proud of this one, as far as digital shorts go.
Synopsis:
"Rosewood, Florida was a peaceful little town just off the Gulf coast until January 1st, 1923. Then Frannie Taylor claimed she'd been attacked, and for six days it became a black and white war zone. Five were murdered in the purge. Sam Cooper was tortured and then shot. For what? Whatever dark motivation that was behind the massacre remains forty years later, and a simple blind man, Mario Laforest, is right in the middle of it. He's a criminal inmate at the Rosewood Sanitarium. But is he really so insane just because he refuses to speak the word 'Amethyst?'"
Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Yes Dear is free today and tomorrow...
Yes Dear is just about eight pages of pure dialogue. I challenged myself to try to write a short story with nothing outside of quotation marks. There are two characters, there's a beginning, middle, and end, and some twists you probably won't see coming. Check out this digital short thriller for free today and tomorrow. This is a second edition, with one minor correction and a new cover.
Synopsis:
"A man and woman arrive finally at the country house after journeying all day from London. She tells him to get the kettle on and stoke the fire; it’s cold and the snow is deep. She’s accustomed to bossing him. She’s used to his response to everything: “Yes, Dear.” But what destiny has pent up comes swiftly, without warning…and the works of a life produce consequence."
Synopsis:
"A man and woman arrive finally at the country house after journeying all day from London. She tells him to get the kettle on and stoke the fire; it’s cold and the snow is deep. She’s accustomed to bossing him. She’s used to his response to everything: “Yes, Dear.” But what destiny has pent up comes swiftly, without warning…and the works of a life produce consequence."
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Marsburg is free today and tomorrow...
Book One in the Airel Saga Diary series, The Marsburg Diary, is free today and tomorrow. Tell your peeps.
Synopsis:
Harvey Marsburg, son of the late William Marsburg, is reading through his deceased father's long-lost diary. At first, Harv is annoyed at the peculiarities of his father, irritated that he has to uncover old wounds by reading this old book. But he finds to his amazement that his father might not actually have been mad. In fact it appears that William may have been nearly 150 years old when he died in 1977. Now his body lies decomposing in a Yorkshire mausoleum, but his legacy lives on. Harvey reads cryptic notes from the executor: "May your father rest in peace. He deserves it." Something watches him from the darknesses of his house as he reads the diary with growing interest. Plus, there are two other books in that old trunk that the foundation sent. One of them, he could swear it, is calling to him...
Synopsis:
Harvey Marsburg, son of the late William Marsburg, is reading through his deceased father's long-lost diary. At first, Harv is annoyed at the peculiarities of his father, irritated that he has to uncover old wounds by reading this old book. But he finds to his amazement that his father might not actually have been mad. In fact it appears that William may have been nearly 150 years old when he died in 1977. Now his body lies decomposing in a Yorkshire mausoleum, but his legacy lives on. Harvey reads cryptic notes from the executor: "May your father rest in peace. He deserves it." Something watches him from the darknesses of his house as he reads the diary with growing interest. Plus, there are two other books in that old trunk that the foundation sent. One of them, he could swear it, is calling to him...
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Simplifying
Life is a thing that complicates itself, I’ve noticed. It’s
a constant battle we fight to gain and regain simplicity. You make a decision
to take on something you think is inconsequential, then you turn around a while
later to discover that one new thing has bred twenty new subsequent obligations
that you never imagined or foresaw.
One learns to be careful what one commits to.
Me and my family, we’re having to do this right now. We’re
having to make decisions about some major stuff in our lives, and I think we’re
heading in the right direction. We’re coming up on a major transition in our
lives as I finally start to garner enough income from royalties and other
earnings on my writing to be able to support us.
My oldest, for instance, is in the third grade now. We were
able, through a lot of sacrifice and effort, to send him to a private school
for years. But it’s proving to be too much strain, and believe it or not, it’s
not mostly financial, though there is a monetary component to our decision to
pull him out of school starting this fall. Mostly it’s the schedule that is
influencing us, plus an honest desire to test drive home schooling.
But this is a great example of how decisions beget
decisions. For instance, we used to have two vehicles; a car and an old truck.
We sold the old truck in order to frugalize and simplify our lives a bit. And it’s
true that our lives have changed since then, but it took a while to adapt to it. It makes the school run more of a major event, and I'm finding our lives sort of revolve around it a bit too much for my taste. It’s interesting for me to see how that decision has impacted my family.
Overall it’s been positive, because I have had to take my bike on certain
errands, or even walk. Having one car has forced us to simplify quite a lot.
Once we got used to it we liked it. That’s not to say we won’t at some point
have another vehicle. But for now, overall, it’s ideal to have just one, even with the school run issue.
Time will tell if our decision to home school my oldest will
unnecessarily complicate our lives. I know there are pitfalls, but we’re going
into it with our eyes open and we’re prepared. For now I’m hoping to turn more
ordinary moments into educational possibilities. I’m wanting to head out to the
desert for an evening with the telescope and stargaze; study astronomy. I’m wanting to transform camping trips into explorations in basic botany, geology, zoology. I’m wanting to
recall scriptures as we gaze at mountains, go to the park and read poetry,
apply multiplication tables to shopping trips, and so on. But I’m a naturally
inquisitive person who enjoys sharing little insights with people, so perhaps
I’m pre-wired to be more successful at home schooling my kids. I know this is
not the case for everyone. And of course it’s also important to be in agreement
with your spouse on stuff like this. That’s the most important consideration,
actually.
Pulling back from the school-run schedule, the Monday
through Friday slog of the rat race, I think will prove beneficial to me and my
family. Now that I am bringing in enough money from my writing to support us,
we don’t need to be tied to schedules and seasons as much. I see us taking more
spontaneous trips. Vacations in September. Or February. Odd stuff like that.
Mid-week camping trips. Family bike rides at 10 AM on a Tuesday just because we
want to and we can. That kind of thing. I want to build a fort in the back yard
for my boys and watch them play as I sit sipping lemonade on the back patio. I
want to smoke a cigar over lunch. Ride my bike more. Read a book under the
shade of a tree. Maybe even write one. I want to build a little dorm-style loft
in my boys’ bedroom so they can have more space. If we put their mattresses up
on the loft, the whole floor will be clear for them to play Legos, cars, watch
the occasional movie on a rainy day, have more fun. And it will be easier to
vacuum. See how that works? Genius.
Labels:
education,
home school,
school,
simplicity,
simplifying
Monday, April 2, 2012
Reflection
Yesterday I heard a man talk about how our society has disconnected with its life source. It's true. In ages past it was normative for people of all sorts to be unafraid of silence. Indeed, they would seek it out. I'm not saying life was a bed of roses, that they didn't work as hard as we do and then some. It could be effectively argued that we in this present moment enjoy more leisure time than at any point in human history. I'm just saying we use it differently than perhaps we ought.
Whatever "downtime " we may have is utterly filled up with some kind of noise, whether it's various media or entertainment sources or just plain useless busy-ness that produces no beneficial effect. Before the age of the smartphone, cable, internet, tablet, Hulu plus, Netflix, 3D HDTV, IMAX and so on, when people had done with their considerable labors at the end of the week, if they had any energy left, they might pick up a book. For some really raucous fun.
Or, and this is the point of this little article, they just might sit and be quiet and reflect. I think in America especially we have cast this art aside to our own great peril and potential demise. When was the last time you took a walk by yourself, just to mull things over? When was the last time you sat in an utterly quiet house and contemplated your life? Can you recall when you last decided enough was enough and turned off the silly boob tube and sat in a chair (or paced the floor) and reflected on your state of affairs? Maybe even talked to God about it all? And, craziest of all thoughts here, waited for Him to speak?
I'm just saying. I've never seen such a busy lot as we modern Americans. We're always going here or there, rushing as we go because we're late, and cursing everybody who dares to challenge our overpacked schedules. I'm just saying. Simplify. Quieten down a bit. Breathe. Step away from the media input for a while. Don't be afraid of the silence. It can be golden.
Whatever "downtime " we may have is utterly filled up with some kind of noise, whether it's various media or entertainment sources or just plain useless busy-ness that produces no beneficial effect. Before the age of the smartphone, cable, internet, tablet, Hulu plus, Netflix, 3D HDTV, IMAX and so on, when people had done with their considerable labors at the end of the week, if they had any energy left, they might pick up a book. For some really raucous fun.
Or, and this is the point of this little article, they just might sit and be quiet and reflect. I think in America especially we have cast this art aside to our own great peril and potential demise. When was the last time you took a walk by yourself, just to mull things over? When was the last time you sat in an utterly quiet house and contemplated your life? Can you recall when you last decided enough was enough and turned off the silly boob tube and sat in a chair (or paced the floor) and reflected on your state of affairs? Maybe even talked to God about it all? And, craziest of all thoughts here, waited for Him to speak?
I'm just saying. I've never seen such a busy lot as we modern Americans. We're always going here or there, rushing as we go because we're late, and cursing everybody who dares to challenge our overpacked schedules. I'm just saying. Simplify. Quieten down a bit. Breathe. Step away from the media input for a while. Don't be afraid of the silence. It can be golden.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Free Book Promo #I'velosttrackofallofthem!
It's real simple, peeps: Airel is free today. Aaaaaaand tomorrow. So tell your friends. This is the big one. That is all.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Tyrants
Megalomaniacs are all the same. They all share certain
vanities.
Hitler, for instance, never considered any views but his
own. Everyone else’s opinion and analysis was invalid. Unfathomably and against
all evidence, he regarded his Fascist ally Mussolini as a staunch and resolute
warrior. But the Italian Duce proved to be a slimy opportunist, moving in on
the French only after the Nazis had defeated them, attempting to grab a slice
of the pie for Italy. And Hitler, among his many other faults, did not understand
why Britain and America would never buy his lies and sue for peace with him,
not ever, no matter what, no matter the cost, and no matter who tried to
convince him otherwise. As a result, when the Third Reich was utterly
annihilated by the Allies, the Fuhrer probably also failed to see clearly how
ironic it was that his Nietzschean political philosophy (the survival of the
fittest) if it were true, singled out Germany as utterly unfit in the end. How
bitter a pill, to have wagered so much on a base lie, and to lose all in the
end. How sad it must have been to have believed it and found it, finally at the
depths, to be false.
It’s interesting, too, how the power-mad man lies in turn,
and so smoothly. This interest becomes dark and perverse when one thinks about
how those lies are taken at face value by so many. The Germans were no doubt
shocked, for instance, when Goebbels’ propaganda machine was disrobed by the
cold truth of British bombs falling over Berlin—over Berlin!—impossible!—in 1941. When this was going on, and Nazi
diplomatic relations with Soviet Russia were beginning to sour as well, Hitler
still insisted that he had only to tighten the noose around the pesky Brits;
they were finished, that they only had to acknowledge the fact. Molotov, the
Soviet ambassador to the Third Reich and in conference with the Fuhrer, was
purported to have rejoined Hitler in this moment, “Then why do we sit in this
bomb shelter, and whose bombs are these which shake the very ground?”
Dictators and tyrants are always ridiculously out of touch
with reality. This is how we know them, and—one would hope to high heaven—root
them out and defang them. This is how we might remove them from power.
Hindsight is always quite bitter. I’m sure there were many Germans who wished
in 1943 and 1944, when their cities were being firebombed by Allied sorties,
that they would have resisted the Nazi warlord. After all, Hitler was just a
man. Demoniacal yes, but still just a man. A man who should have and could have
been resisted, had anyone had half a spine.
It is the same with murderous pirate plunderers like Obama,
theocrats like Ahmadinejad. They speak words skillfully wrought by handlers,
maybe even by themselves, with sweet tasting lies interwoven throughout. Obama
talks about “fairness” for the middle class. Anyone with any sense knows that
he is driving a wedge between the producers and those on the dole in this
country, attempting to provoke anger, stoking hatred, cultivating division.
He’s not bringing unity. Leftists like Obama always do the
opposite of what they say they’re doing. He speaks of “reproductive rights” for
women (a tortured and doltish line of newspeak logic to be sure), all while
endorsing the killing of newborns. On this position he has never even attempted
to double back. As for Ahmadinejad, he protests, a little too much to be really
believable, that he seeks nuclear power only for peaceful purposes. Never mind
that in the theocracy of which he is one of the horns of power women are debased,
swept aside, muzzled, relegated to subhuman status. There is nothing to see
here. “Peace, peace,” the warlord hisses like a prostitute, bloodlust trickling
from the corner of his mouth as he plots and schemes. With guarantees and
promises from men like this, one cannot help but be mindful of Chamberlain
shaking hands with Hitler at Munich, smiling broadly at the Nazi warlord as the
doom of Czechoslovakia was arbitrarily sealed, and by well-meaning backstabbing
traitorous appeasers with no understanding of consequence.
After so many of Obama’s promises, for instance, to balance
the budget (when none has yet been produced for three years), to provide
“choice” in healthcare coverage (while actually destroying both choice and
healthcare in America), to strengthen our position in the world (while playing
the sniveling role of a coward and bowing to evil men across the globe), and to
bring us “hope and change” (if that’s what we’re supposed to call the second
Great Depression), why would anyone believe a single word he speaks? Still,
fools persist in their folly, and propagandists use the tools that come
scurrying to the sound of their music.
The same kinds of tools and fools reside at the top of the
political world order right now; they staff the IMF, the UN, the IAEA, they
trade and barter in the lobbies of Washington D.C., and they rub elbows with bigger
and more selfish idiots like Al Gore, Gordon Brown, Vladimir Putin, that other
totally discredited jackass global warmist from the University of East Anglia,
and Jimmy Carter—and the scent of inevitable doom is becoming overpowering. These are the precise political conditions that led, if one studies history, to the worst cataclysms in the history of the world, those two Great Wars of the Twentieth Century. We’re
told Iran is not seeking a nuclear weapon. Really? When so very like Adolf
Hitler in his published manifesto Mein
Kampf, Ahmadinejad has already told us in his own words that his chief
desire is to wipe Israel off the map, that he believes the Nazi-induced Jewish holocaust
is a hoax, and also that, oh yeah, he only wants nuclear power for peaceful
purposes? If you wish to believe that, go right ahead, fool. Our enemies have
told us what they plan to do because they cannot help but megalomaniacally brag
and boast; it’s who they are. But I am on my knees calling upon my God to
intervene because He is all I have left. I’m surrounded by the naïve, the
foolish, the simpleton, the party line voter, those do not know history, and my
government no longer even cares to represent me; only to bribe me with backward
redistributionist Keynesian centrally planned stupidity.
But really now, what do we have to fear from madmen? You may
justifiably ask this question. I will entertain it: not much. Most of the
damage a madman can do is limited to himself—that is, until he achieves real
power, and that’s the wrinkle. It was the same with Hitler in the bierhall
putsch of 1923 (his attempted violent overthrow of the Weimar republican
government), which was an embarrassment even to his enemies for how badly it
came off. But madmen too can learn from mistakes, provided their drive for
power is strong enough. Hitler was not to be feared until he had weaseled his
way into the Wilhelmstrasse and the Chancellery. Then he was fearsome for his
people to behold, then a nightmare for the entire globe to look upon, as
evidenced by history. I wonder at the madness of Ahmadinejad as well, at least
right now. Would he really go so far as to undermine the very lifeblood of his
power—vast amounts of first world wealth pumped into Iranian treasuries in trade
for OPEC oil—by threatening nuclear war in the Middle East? Surely he doesn’t
think he could bring the West to her knees with the one facecard (oil) he now
holds—and surely he doesn’t think he will be allowed to acquire another
(nuclear capability)—unless the keeper of the flame of liberty is herself
snuffed by evil men on the inside like Obama. But that’s the thing about
madmen. They’re absolutely insane. And they will do anything to quench their
lusts.
These three men have other commonalities frightful to behold.
They are always on the offensive in some way. Hitler was quick to strike first.
That was one promise he continually made that could be counted on. So too
Ahmadinejad wishes to provoke, to instigate, and he proves as much with his
hateful mouth. Obama is not to be left out either, going on the offensive in ivory
tower fashion, waging a carefully calculated war of executive order and caustic rhetoric on states’
rights, the US Constitution and most of its amendments, traditional American
values and faith, our right to keep and bear arms, even on our children, both born and unborn.
It was clear who he was and who he would be when he declared shortly after
inauguration, “America is not a Christian nation.” I shudder even now. That is
who he was, who he is, who he will remain to be. There is no hope for
unrepentant men! What, you thought otherwise? This he does and more, all in the
name of fairness too, in the name of equality, the dead-horse liberal punching
bag of good intentions mixed in a witches’ brew with guilt aplenty. Not Obama’s,
naturally—ours. Of course. This barnacle upon the hull of the ship of state will
whine at us that he needs yet one more term to battle in the abatement of some
trumped up crisis, you watch. But scrape him off, America, and discard him. It has been and will be a continuous crisis, one created by the
very people who protest, again a little too loudly that no, they are the ones
who are trying with all their might to lead us out of it, to peace. “Peace,
peace,” the totalitarian whispers. And history replays itself, tiringly, yet
again. Need I remind you that Congress has yet to pass a budget in three years?
It’s telling, I say. I reached my fill of it years ago, and I have no more
tolerance for totalitarian intolerance disguised, perversely, as tolerance, and loudly self-trumpeted, purportedly beneficent and allegedly magnanimous at that. Test the fruit of this man and tell me
the label thereon affixed does match.
Authoritarians are all the same. Their traits are to be
studied and identified so that these monsters can be exposed and rooted out.
They cannot be changed. They can rarely even be stopped. Look at history. The
two World Wars of the Twentieth Century, especially the first one, then known
as The Great War for its utterly unprecedented scale and barbarity, were
preventable. If not for the great weakness human civilization has had at times
to place its most stupefyingly evil simpletons at the switchboard of society,
the world might indeed be a better place. If only We the People would but
realize our power. Wake up. Think. Reason. Wage war not against your brother who lives and works and dreams under the same storied colors. Wake up from your slumber, America, as your
fathers did on December 7th, 1941, to defend liberty. Wake up as you did in 1776. Awaken in the realm of thought, of the mind, to wage war where it really counts. Awaken to
wrestle and contend with the evil now surrounding. Charge unafraid at the
darkness with the light of righteousness in hand. Resolve to change the heart, the mind, and pray for the God of the universe to intervene for us. America, realize the enormity of your mistake in placing a megalomaniacal tyrant like Obama into office and turn from this wickedness. There’s no talking sense to
utter fools like Obama, Hitler, and Ahmadinejad. Their lot is hopeless, evil,
unrepentant. All that remains, having won the battle for reason, is to remove them before it’s too late. Rise up,
America.
Rise. Up.
Labels:
Ahmadinejad,
America,
America in Distress,
History,
Hitler,
Obama,
Politics,
Tyrants,
War
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