Talons of the American Falcon

American Falcon: Quadrillion, is in the house, and its steel talons are firmly embedded in my skull. The first American Falcon CD is still in heavy rotation at my place, but now the new one will join it. We’re looking at more of the same kind of heavy rock as on CD #1. Solid, rhythmical, raise your T levels, straight-ahead rock and roll.  

From the opening riffs of the opening song, “Quadrillion,” I was throwing the horns.  Then there’s “Blood and Thunder,” which immediately calls up my favorite kind of pulp fiction, followed by the timely and hilarious “Dickhead Mountain.” Add “John Tanner,” “Strung,” “The Mountain,” and “Mexicus, which appears to be about a Mexican gladiator fighting in the Roman Coliseum. (I’d like to read that story.) There’s not a weak sister in the bunch.  I haven’t been through it enough yet to settle on a favorite but I’m sure that will come.

American Falcon is a power trio! Is that phrase still used? It fits, although there’s enough sound here to suggest a dozen players. Check out their page on Facebook. Their email address is there and I believe there’s a link where you can order the CD. I don’t think it’s available on Amazon yet, but the first album sure is and you couldn’t go wrong with that one.

Now it’s time for another listen!

A Poem in Progress

In a story recently I used the phrase "black shine," and most members of my writing group didn't like it because they had no idea what it meant or how to visualize it. But for me, the phrase is evocative and sensuous. It creates plenty of clear images for me. Anyway, I decided to try to capture the meaning of it for me in a poem, and below is a piece of that. It's not done yet. Who knows when it will be.

Black Shine

In the black shine

she waited with Wendigo eyes

and a pillow smile.

Wind had curled her hair,

had rouged her cheeks.

Gin had painted her lips.

The fingernails that scraped

her silks

spelled my name in Braille.

Black shine, dark soul

I am lost

Just When I Think I'm Out

I never watched much of the Sopranos but I do remember one character who was always saying, "Just when I think I'm out, they drag me back in." School often seems like that for faculty members. Classes were over on April 25th. I turned in my grades on Saturday, April 30th. I had a nice leisurely day on Sunday, May 1st. And it seemed to me that I should be able to start my summer writing on May 2nd. That didn't happen.

I'm the outside member on the Business Division's job search this spring and we had a candidate in on Monday to interview. Then I had a lingering research proposal to deal with. Tuesday was a writing day and I got a lot of stuff done, including requested revisions to a story, which was accepted that evening.

Wednesday, though, was another job candidate interview, this time for a position in psychology. We also had registration for new freshmen for next year. And another last minute research proposal came in. I was up by 6:00 and by the time I got home and helped Lana get groceries, it was time to go to bed for work the next day.

Today is Thursday, and I was up at 5:30 to make the trek into work. We've got another job candidate interview today. That will be most of the day. In the evening, though, I have a writing group meeting, which should be fun. And Friday I'm off so more writing will be done.

Saturday is actual graduation and that will take most of the day. Sunday begins my summer writing in earnest! And if anyone tries to "drag me back in" after that they'll get what's coming to them.

Grades are in.

I turned in all my grades late yesterday evening. There are still a bunch of meetings scheduled for next week. I’m on two late job search committees. There’s graduation and a few lingering research proposals to evaluate. But after May 10 I should be largely free for a couple of months to do my own thing.

I have a lot of writing plans and even though I’ll be officially out of school, I’ll still have to zealously protect my writing time.  Very few respect it. Everyone seems to think that since you’re off of your day job that you won’t mind giving up a morning for this, or an afternoon for that. I do mind. I have a second job. That’s how I treat it. A summer job that I take just as seriously as my other one, even though it doesn’t pay nearly as well.

Although I write a little bit most days all year around, summers and Christmas break are where 75% of my most productive writing gets done. These are the times when books are finished, collections put together, and materials are finalized into what I hope are publishable forms.

Those days are finally coming for me, and it’s time to seize them. 

What Fresh Grading Hell is This

I've been pretty much of a recluse since Friday, grading, grading, grading. Final papers in my writing class, exams in all my other classes. That's why I've been out of touch. I finally got the senior grades turned in today and promptly had a nap. Taking an hour or two off this evening, although work will begin again tomorrow. By this coming weekend, however, I should have the majority of the school work behind me and can begin to think about living again, and perhaps even some--dare I say it--writing!

Speaking of writing, Wayne Dundee over at Dundee's Desk has a great review of Mage, Maze, Demon up. There are some other good reviews on the site as well. Check it out. And thanks to Wayne!

I'm hoping to get back to visiting some blogs in the next couple of days, and dealing with a lot of other things that have piled up while I was in grading hell. 

Reviews: Torn and Frayed, and, HWA Poetry Showcase Vol. II

Here's a couple of reviews I put up on Goodreads lately. I also posted these on Amazon but they took off the HWA one, probably because I have a poem in that collection. Because of that, I thought I'd go ahead and run it here, in addition to my review of David Cranmer's latest: Torn and Frayed.

Torn and Frayed, by David Cranmer . Drifter Detective Series, Number 7. Beat to a Pulp Publishers.

Torn and Frayed is the seventh offering in Beat to a Pulp’s Drifter Detective series. It’s a novella length piece. This is the first in the series written by Cranmer. Previous installments have been written by Garnett Elliott: 1. The Drifter Detective, 2. Hell Up in Houston, 3. The Girls of Bunker Pines, by Wayne D. Dundee, 4. Wide Spot in the Road, Elliott again 5. Dinero Del Mar, and by Alec Cizak, 6. Between Juarez and El Paso.

The main character in this series is Jack Laramie, who is the grandson of Legendary US marshal Cash Laramie, created by Edward Grainger. Jack Laramie is a WWII vet who roams post WWII Texas in a rickety DeSoto with a horse trailer hitched on the back. He is an occasional PI. Jack Laramie has many of the characteristics of his grandfather,  although perhaps a bit less of a total bad ass. He takes on a case, gets into a mess, and somehow extricates himself, although it is seldom pretty. Along the way, he gets beat on and does some beating back, and the series seldom ends with a clear cut: “good guys win” scenario.

Torn and Frayed follows this general pattern. Jack decides to take a break from the road and PI work and takes a job as a ranch hand. Turns out the rancher has a past that is coming back to haunt him, most specifically in the form of a daughter who is not what her father thinks she is. A lot of unpleasant history gets revealed along the way.

Like most in the Drifter Detective series, Torn and Frayed does not tie the story up in a nice pretty package at the end. There’s messiness and ugliness and it’s hard to say that anyone really wins. They survive, at a cost. But this series has real sense of realism running through it and Torn and Frayed fits well into this pattern. I much enjoyed it. There is, in addition, a bonus story at the end, “Missing,” which features Cash Laramie himself.

HWA Poetry Showcase, Volume II, Edited by Peter Adam Salomon, Published by Horror Writers Association.

This is a wonderful collection of dark poetry. It also contains tributes to two respected members of HWA who have passed away recently. The work begins with a tribute to Rocky Wood, long-term president of HWA. I didn't know him but have heard many great things about him. The work ends with a tribute to Tom Piccirilli, and with one of Tom's fine poems, "Protected," which was the last poem he completed before his death. I knew and respected Tom through his work.

The poems here are meaty and all of high quality, ranging from the creepy, to the gory, to the thoughtful, to the humorous. There are too many really good ones to mention individually. Some really nice efforts from the likes of Bruce Boston, Marge Simon, Kathryn Ptacek, and Corrine De Winter. Some others that particularly moved me were: The Cry of Autumn Stars by Mark Fuller Dillon, Fiend by Annie Neugebauer, Into Old Mill Creek by Ian A. Patton, The Tune by Lance Davis, Midnight at the Hub City Cafe by Lynette Mejia, and The Man Who Disappears by Robert Perez. I also have a poem in this collection, called R.O.A.D, which stands for The River of Angel’s Dreaming. I was very happy to be included in this collection.

A Collection of Dreams

My collection of dream based stories is moving closer to completion. I’ve now completed drafts of all the stories that I’m planning on including. Some more polishing is in order and then the cover and other materials. Most of the tales will be horror based, although there is one fantasy and one that sort of defies categorization. Here’s what I’m looking at:

Thump, Thump, Thump – A man take shelter from the rain in an abandoned shack and meets the wife he didn’t know he had.

She Fled, Laughing – Called to the scene of a brutal mass murder, a homicide detective finds a survivor who doesn’t want to be rescued.

Rainbow’s Fall – What happens when a rainbow shatters.

A Dream of Fire – Left behind with the baggage train, an aging warrior finds one last battle.

I See Your Night, and Raise You Hell:  What happens when two psychos meet?

Child Labor – If he’d only had more patience.

And the good news, for me at least, is I've got plenty of dreams to make a volume 2 if I want. 

The Genesis of Mage, Maze, Demon

        It's probably part of my OCD characteristics that I tend to keep fairly detailed notes about every story I write. When was it written? Where did the idea come from? Did it undergo major changes from the draft form or not? Where was it published?

        I usually include this information in books I publish through Razored Zen Press. However, the answers to my standard questions are a little different than normal for the story Mage, Maze, Demon, which was recently published by Beat to a Pulp. I thought I might share them here.

    First, the catalyst for writing Mage, Maze, Demon did not come from within but from without. A couple of years back, I got an intriguing email from David Cranmer, the editor at Beat to a Pulp. He was thinking about publishing some stories in honor of Kyle Knapp, his nephew who had died, and was looking for writers who might develop tales based on prompts from Kyle’s dream journal. The prompt he was considering me for was: “I was a barbarian warrior trying to escape a maze.” I liked the idea of developing such a piece and decided to give it a go.

David said there was no particular deadline so I worked on the story off and on during the fall of 2013 and showed it to my writing group in December. I put the finishing touches on it in early January of 2014. Often, stories spring into my head with many of the details already laid out, but that wasn’t the case with Mage, Maze, Demon. The plot underwent several alterations and title changes before I settled on the final version. The name of character also underwent some changes. Since the root of the story came from Kyle Knapp’s journal, I wanted a character name to evoke that, and finally settled on Bryle.

In early 2016, Mage, Maze, Demon was released as an ebook by Beat to a Pulp, and this was followed in April 2016 by a paperback release (Out Now). The print version has two excellent bonus stories included, “The Lizard’s Ardent Uniform” by Chris F. Holm, and “Babylon Heist” by Garnett Elliott.

I was very pleased to take part in this project and am happy with how the story turned out. Bryle became a character that I liked very much, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his adventures don’t continue somewhere down the line. 

A Fresh Review

David J. West has a great review of Mage, Maze, Demon over on his Nephite Blood, Spartan Heart. Hope you'll check it out. Thanks, David!

After Easter break, the final sprint to graduation began and I've had very little time for anything other than school work. So, so looking forward to summer. I've got all kinds of writing plans. Now I just need a bit of time.
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A Review and a Talk

Prashant, over at Chess, Comics, Crosswords, and more has a great review of Mage, Maze, Demon up on his blog. Thanks much to him. Check it out.

In other news, I’ll be at Mac’s on Boston Street in Covington today, April 3, from 4-6 PM, to give a talk entitled “A Few Words on Reading.” This is presented by the Northshore Literary Society for their “Sunday Salon.”  The address for Mac’s is 324 East Boston Street, Covington, Louisiana. I’m going to talk about why people read the kinds of fictional stories and books that they do. Thanks to Cheryl and all the Northshore folks for inviting me!

More Mage

Today, I'll just point you toward a great review of Mage, Maze, Demon by James Reasoner. Since I greatly admire James's writing, it's always nice to get a "well done" from him. 

The story is still only 99 cents on Amazon. Check it out.

Mage, Maze, Demon

Wow, it has been a tough three weeks. I’ve actually had no full days off since the beginning of March, including weekends. But finally we’ve made it to spring break. I’m off all next week and man am I looking forward to some sleep. And maybe some writing as well.

It was exciting that it was the last day of work before break today, but even more exciting was the publication of Mage, Maze, Demon, by David Cranmer’s Beat to a Pulp. This is book #3 in their Veridical Dreams series, which are tales inspired by the dream journals of Kyle J. Knapp. Being a fellow who keeps his own dream journal, I much enjoyed writing for this series.

The story is sword and sorcery, which, judging by the number of works I’ve written in that genre, is my favorite genre. I love to read it and write it. Although you could read the cover blurb for it on Amazon, I’ve copied it below.

Having narrowly survived a raging fire, the warrior, Bryle, finds himself caught in a labyrinth of treacherous caverns. It isn’t by accident. An eyeless sorcerer has summoned Bryle. He wants the barbarian to retrieve a talisman that will stop a demon of unfathomable power. To do so, Bryle must first face the challenges of the sorcerer’s maze: flooded tunnels, poisoned traps, and a monstrous beast that can heal its own wounds. The sorcerer promises the barbarian his freedom if he succeeds. But can Bryle trust the word of such a being? Can he trust anything other than the sword in his hand? 

Mage, Maze, Demon is only 99 cents on Amazon, so if you have a hankering for some Barbarian versus Mage versus Demon action, it’s affordable.

Cap Kennedy #15, and The Thing Connection

It’s always interesting to me to trace influences over time in Science Fiction and fantasy. I made an interesting discovery recently as I was reading Cap Kennedy #15, Mimics of Dephene (1975). This is a space opera series from the 1970s written by Gregory Kern, who was actually E. C. Tubb (1919 – 2010). The book would seem to be a relatively minor one in the series, but at the very top of page 62, (Daw Books, Inc. 1975, April), I found a fascinating paragraph.

To set it up, Cap and his colleague, a scientist named Jarl Luden, discover an alien mimic who is trying to pass as a human. Luden remarks: "'There is a certain test. Take some tissue, some blood, and touch it with a hot wire. Normal blood will not react, but that taken from a Mimic will incorporate an individual survival-pattern. It will recoil from the threat of heat.’”

My mind, and quite possibly yours, instantly leaped to the John Carpenter movie, The Thing, which opened June 25, 1982. Here’s the speech Macready gives in the movie just before running the blood test that reveals ‘The Thing.’ “You see, when a man bleeds. It’s just tissue. But blood from one of you things won’t obey when it’s attacked. It’ll try and survive. Crawl away from a hot needle…” In the movie they actually use a hot wire for the test.

I went back to the original novella that was the basis for John Carpenter’s The Thing. This is Who Goes There, by John W. Campbell Jr, which was published in Astounding Science Fiction in 1938. I’d read it a very long time ago but in checking it out I found that the hot wire test was used in that book. This is probably where Kern/Tubb got the idea for Kennedy #15, and would also seem the likely influence on Carpenter. Oddly, though, the wording in the movie is closer to that in Mimics of Dephene than in the novella. Coincidence? Probably.

However, a second tantalizing connection between the Cap Kennedy book and the “thing” is seen later. On page 93 of the Kennedy book, when a mimic is imitating Luden, Kennedy tells one of the forms to "Open your mouth." As soon as the being does so, Kennedy shoots him down. When the real Luden wants to know how Kennedy distinguished between the mimic and the real, Kennedy says: "...no Mimic could have known what was inside your mouth. Expensive dental work."

In the 2011 remake/prequel to The Thing, we find out that the creatures can't mimic dental implants and these get left behind when a human is taken over. This is one way to identify them. And this element did not appear in Who Goes There, or at least I couldn’t find it with a pretty close search. (I wonder if it might have been in the original script for that movie.)

Although certainly no proof of direct connection, the fact that Mimics of Dephene can be linked to both the 1982 and the 2011 movies, tantalizes me. I can’t find any evidence that Tubb himself had anything to do with either movie, so if there was an influence, it came from someone else. Were both links purely coincidental, or had someone who worked on these movies read Cap Kennedy #15? Could it have been John Carpenter himself? If anyone knows him, maybe you’ll ask him for me. I’d sure like to know.

Ideas for Independent Releases

Over the past couple of years, I’ve come up with numerous ideas for writing projects that I’d like to complete.  Progress has generally been slow, but some of these projects are starting to take shape and I think at least one or two of them will be completed by the end of 2016. Here’s what I’ve been thinking of.

1. Micro Weird 2: Another collection of short, weird, flash fiction. I’ve got three or four stories ready for this but, as you can imagine, the total word count is still pretty small.

2. Dream stories: I’ve been toying with the idea of putting together a short collection of horror stories that are basically straightforward retellings of some of my dreams. I’ve only got a couple such stories completed but I have another four or five outlined. I’m going to work on one of these tales next, as soon as I finish an anthology project. The new tale will be entitled “Thump, Thump, Thump.”

3. A literary collection. Contrary to popular conceptions, I don’t write all blood and gore. I have several literary stories that have been published that I’m thinking about putting into a small collection. The working title right now is “Down Home and Other Stories.”

4. A “lessons” from Classic Trek. Honestly, this is a longgggg way from being completed. I’ve outlined some ideas and rough drafted a paragraph or two but this will be a low priority project for me.

5. The Scarred One: This is a western novella, about halfway completed.

6. Title Tales: I’ve been toying with the idea for a collection of horror stories in which all the tales would be inspired by the titles of rock and metal music, such as “Fairies Wear Boots,” “Hell’s Bells,” “Immigrant Song,” and many others. I have several pieces of this completed in rough draft form. However, I need to find out if I have to get permissions to use these titles. If so, I probably won’t use them.

7. A series of three longish western stories featuring “The Man from Colt Creek.” Two of these are about halfway done. The third is just a basic outline.

So, no one can accuse me of not having enough writing plans. Now I’ve got to get the words down. 

Nominated for the Rhysling

Well, I got some exciting news this morning. I was thrilled to find out that a poem of mine called "Gaunt" has been nominated for the 2016 Rhysling Award, which is for poems published in 2015. This award is given by the Science Fiction Poetry Association. My piece was nominated for the "Short Poem" category, (under 50 lines). Here is how the SFPA describes the award:

"The winning works are regularly reprinted in the Nebula Awards Anthology from the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, Inc., and are considered in the SF/F/H/Spec. field to be the equivalent in poetry of the awards given for "prose" work— achievement awards given to poets by the writing peers of their own field of literature."

I'm really happy to hear about this. Sometimes when you labor in the fields, someone comes along and says, "nice job!" It's always appreciated.

"Gaunt" was published in The Pedestal Magazine. It's still up in their archives. The link is here if you'd like to read it. 

Forgotten Book Friday: The Rat Bastards series: #4.

The Rat Bastards series: #4. Meat Grinder Hill, by John Mackie, Jove Books, 1984.

I’d never seen any books from this series until I was in Maine and found a small bookstore that carried volume 4. Being a sucker for war series, especially WWII series, I snapped it up, and have finally read it. The story takes place on Guadalcanal as the American forces make a last push to take the island from a starving and undersupplied Japanese army.  Here are my thoughts:

First, John Mackie is a pseudonym of Len Levinson. Here is a link to a blog called “Glorious Trash,” where there is an interview with the author about the series.  Another discussion with Levinson can be found over at the Post Modern Pulp Blog. 

Though I’ve only read one volume, I think I can make some general deductions about the series, which runs to at least 16 books. What we have is a kind of “Dirty Dozen” tale. The “Recon Platoon” is made up of misfits, criminals, and barroom brawlers. They don’t like to follow orders but they’re tough as hell and good in a fight. There are a number of characters who fit fairly standard molds.  Longtree is descended from Apache warriors and great at stealth. Homer Gladley is a big but not terribly bright farm boy from Nebraska. Frankie La Barbara is a handsome Italian who has a way with the ladies. Then there’s sergeant Butsko, tough as nails and no nonsense. The characters are drawn broadly and behave mostly in expected ways.

I’d firmly place the series in the Men’s Adventure category. There’s a lot of action, a lot of rough talk, and quite a bit of sex, at least in volume 4. Most of the sex comes from Frankie seducing a variety of nurses while recovering from some injuries at the military hospital. The sex is the weakest element of the story and might have better been left out. It’s often a part of the Men’s Adventure package, though,  and I imagine that’s why it’s there. It’s hard for me to tell whether the sex scenes were meant to be funny or erotic. The slang used suggests humor, and I did get some laughs at phrases like: “…touches his fingers lightly against her precious love-starved little gazoo,” or “…pressing her hand against his hairy canary.”

The action sequences were much better done, and we do get to see some of the fear and self-doubt that the characters experience. A particularly nice touch to the book was how the Japanese enemy were  treated with quite a bit of respect. Their hardships, bravery, and loyalty to their leaders was well displayed, which I found somewhat unusual for WWII series, where often the enemy is virtually faceless. I found that this aspect of the story upped my enjoyment.

All in all, I liked “Meat Grinder Hill” fairly well. It was about what I expected.  I may try another volume. I see that most of the series has been released fairly recently for the Kindle and are available on Amazon under the author’s real name. 

What a Difference a Week (or two) Makes:

Just a week or so ago I was feeling very down about my writing. I’d written nothing for almost two weeks and had tried to work on a story and it just wasn’t flowing. There were, as well, the usual rejections and that sort of thing happening. Either bad or potentially bad news seemed to be attacking on every front.

Then I had a story published, “Woman in Dust,” and got a lot of very positive comments on it. I got potentially good news on an issue that I was particularly concerned about, although I’m not daring to mention it until it is a reality. I picked up a few comments in real life from folks who enjoyed my writing, and the story I was working on finally started to flow, although I’m still fighting with it every step of the way. This week I feel better about things, and am very glad for it.

I have prided myself in the past for writing on even in the face of no external validation. But I realize now that I was fooling myself a bit. Any writer who depends extensively on external validation isn’t going to be in the business for long. But I guess we all need to hear at least occasionally that what we are doing is worthwhile and appreciated.  There’s got to be some kind of payoff for all the hard work, and money has not been that payoff for me.

Woman in Dust

About the only thing I have to say today is that I have a new story up at The Flash Fiction Press. It's called "Woman in Dust." If you have a moment, check it out. It's a quick read. It's here.

As for the Super Bowl, I didn't have anything against either team. I actually like the Carolina Panthers. However, gotta admit I was hoping for a win for Peyton Manning. Although he certainly was not the MVP--the Denver defense was--I was happy to see someone from my adopted home (New Orleans) prove victorious. Plus, I've always had respect for Peyton's skills and for the fact that he seems genuinely like a decent fellow.

Only Yourself to Blame

Writing is a strange business. I’ve been doing it a long time and really date my life as a writer from the fall of 1988, when I committed myself to getting published. I’ve chocked up some successes, and plenty of failures. I’ve gotten plenty of rejection slips but have had over three hundred pieces published, if you count, books, stories, poems, and nonfiction articles. That’s not counting anything I’ve self published.

There have been years when I’ve done very well—2007, 2009, and plenty of years where I didn’t—2013 through 2015. There was a year, or at least most of a year, when I quit—1997. One thing I’ve realized about writing is that there’s no resting on one’s laurels. You slow down, you lose momentum. You lose momentum, your carefully nurtured career begins to fall apart. In board gaming parlance, you go back a few spaces, even if not quite all the way back to the beginning.

Unfortunately, losses of momentum seem inevitable if you have anything approximating a normal life with spouses and children. People get sick, have crises. Sometimes, one crisis runs into another and another in an almost seamless fashion, leaving little time for the recovering of energies between. And age brings the magic dust of tiredness along with it. Sometimes it gets easier and easier to let the writing slide while you try to keep your head above water against the vagaries of fortune. At least it has been that way for me.

Maybe if I’d had the courage to choose writing as my only career, things might have been different. But I always liked to know where my next meal was coming from. So, I chose an academic career with writing on the side. And when you do have a job that pays the bills, and you come home tired, and the stress of life is beating on you, it becomes a lot easier to say, “screw it, no writing tonight.” You’re still pretty sure you’re not going to starve.  Though maybe you starve in another sense.

Writing, for me, used to be play. I worked hard at my play but it was a helluva lot of fun. There was also an element of gambling that went into every story. Maybe this one would take off. Maybe this one would be the one that broke me through to a bigger audience. Maybe this one would get the nod from one of the biggest magazines, or maybe—even—attract the attention of a film group. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They say that age brings wisdom. Maybe it just brings cynicism. At this stage of my life, the gambling odds get longer and longer against me. And I never quite reckoned with the truth that one often has to run faster and faster just to stay in one place. The death of Robert Reginald, my editor at Borgo Press, a man who loved my Talera series and supported my writing at every turn, showed me that. He’d issued me contracts for a couple of more books that I could have had out while he was alive. But I just kept thinking, “there’s time.” There wasn’t.  And that has led me to a kind of crisis of faith.

I’ve got to find a reason to keep on keeping on. And I understand pretty clearly that the reason can’t be one that comes from outside of me. In the end, there’s only yourself to blame. For the good or the bad.

The Sleep of the Weird

I had two sleep paralysis attacks last night. I've had them before but never two in one night. And it's been a while since I've had any. These two were actually pretty frightening, and given that I'm alone in the house at the moment with Lana gone for a few days, it didn't help me get a good night's sleep.

Sleep paralysis comes in two varieties. The most common type is when you wake up completely from a dream and find yourself still paralyzed from the neck down. You probably know that your body becomes paralyzed when you dream to keep you from acting out your dreams. In this type of sleep paralysis, your eyes are open and you are aware of the world around you as it normally exists. This type usually lasts only a few seconds to a few minutes, but it can go on longer. I've had it, but never for more than a few seconds. I don't know of any case where it has ever become permanent, but I'm sure it is frightening for those who experience it. It was for me, although I understood exactly what was happening and that helped.

I don't typically have that kind of sleep paralysis, though. In the kind that I have, you 'think' you are completely awake but there are still dreaming events taking place. However, you are aware that you are paralyzed, and you can't break the paralysis simply by willing it. You are unaware of exactly which experiences that are happening to you are real, and which ones are dreaming. And often the experiences are quite frightening. Being rational about the events can help but it doesn't completely eliminate the fear. At least for me.

I've had some doozies when it comes to sleep paralysis experiences. Last night's were neither the most frightening, nor the least. In the first experience, I "woke up" to find myself paralyzed and in complete blackness. An entity was present and it kept brushing against me. The feeling was kind of like being brushed by wings. I couldn't see it but had a sense of it being malevolent. My first terrifying thought was that something was trying to possess me. Then my mind cleared and I realized I was experiencing sleep paralysis. I tried to will myself to sit up and could not move more than a twitch. I then did what I've learned to do to break the experience. That is, instead of struggling, I will myself to completely relax. The paralysis broke almost immediately and I sat up. It took me a while to get back to sleep.

In the second experience, I again "woke up" in blackness and found that the "entity" had returned. It seemed to be all around me. The nearest I can come to describing it is that it felt like a strong breeze blowing against me. There was nothing rational about my initial response. I snarled at it, then shouted that it wouldn't get me. The paralysis immediately disappeared and I woke up for real. I knew the shouting had only been in my head. I think this is about the closest I've come to the experience that people have called "A Witch Riding Your Back."

Sleep paralysis occurs most frequently when people sleep on their backs, and this has been the case in just about every such experience I've had. The first attack last night I wasn't completely on my back. But I was the second time because I was still afraid from the first attack, even though my rational mind understood what had happened. Even though I didn't really want to turn on my side after these experiences, I made myself do so to minimize any further chance of attacks, and I managed to avoid any.

I did, however, have one other interesting dream experience last night. I actually had a deja vu experience within a dream. I dreamed I was talking to Lana and she was telling me about a bunch of ants in a big garbage bin, and I was thinking, 'we've had this conversation before,' and then I woke up. That one was good for a laugh, which was a welcome change from the other two experiences of the evening.

Short Story Published, and Other Things.

I've already been remiss in the new year about posting on my blog, and haven't even visited blogs as often as I used to. It's been hard to get untracked for a variety of reasons. However, a couple of good things have happened very recently. I thought they were worth sharing.

First, a story of mine called "Down Home" has just gone up online at Deep South Magazine. Check it out if you get the chance. It's free to read. This is more of a literary story than most tales that folks have seen from me, but I've always tried to write in all kinds of genres and don't want to be restricted to just one.

In other news, a student of mine, L. M. Labat, has just had a first novel published, called The Sanguinarian Id. I read this book in manuscript form and worked with L. M. on query letters and that sort of thing. There's a blurb from me on the back cover. I much enjoyed the book and I know the author has other works planned in what is likely to become a series. It's an enjoyable read so if you get a chance, check it out. L. M. is also an extremely talented artist and the book is liberally illustrated with wonderful sketches that give the piece a kind old timey feel. If you wanted to have a look at some of the illustrations, the author's website is here.

Online Training / Online Work

In the last couple of weeks I’ve spent almost four full work days doing nothing more than online training for various things. First, I went through an extensive online study program where I was required to make better than 85% on numerous quizzes in order to get my certificate, which I’m required to have in order to chair a big research committee at my work. It is, by the way, a committee that I have absolutely zero desire to chair. 

Next, all Xavier faculty are now required to go through an online training course on harassment and how to recognize and report it. Numerous quizzes are found along the way. This one included watching a lot of videos and “what would you do” scenarios.

Third, our Department is going to start using the Strong Interest Inventory to help with advising students on career goals. That meant more study. I ended up taking the test myself as part of this process, and found that my major interests seem to be artistic ones. If only that darn writing thing would earn me more than pennies on the hour. 

Fourth, the faculty were required to watch a rather lengthy video on what to do in an active shooter situation. The key guidelines appear to be, run if you can, hide if you can’t run, and fight if you have to. I’m thinking that’s probably good advice.

The above four things do not include the dozens of surveys I’ve been sent by either Xavier or other universities wanting my input on all manner of things. These things don’t just come once, mind you. If you don’t fill them out you get reminder, after reminder, after reminder.

Although all of these things are worthwhile at some level, I’m beginning to wonder when I’m supposed to get my regular work done. You know, that old fashioned thing they call “teaching.” And I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t be compensated for all the added activities that seem to have become part of my job of late. One of the surveys asked me about my work hours versus leisure hours. I'd have more leisure if it wasn't for all the extra work stuff I'm supposed to do.

Some Favorite Reads of 2015

I tend to read a lot of books and oftentimes the years kind of run together. Fortunately, Goodreads, where I review all my reads these days, keeps the records that I don’t have handy myself. Here are some of my favorite reads for 2015. There’s no particular order here. And it’s not comprehensive. These are just some of the books that have stayed with me.  I’ve included links to Amazon here but if you want to see my complete reviews, they are all on Goodreads.

Miles to Lost Dog Creek, by Ron Scheer: We lost Ron this year. Wish he were still around to write more fine westerns like this.

Wanderings on Darker Shores, by Cora Pop: A really delightful collection of short stories and poetry in the darker vein.

Uncle Tom’s Children, by Richard Wright: A thought provoking set of stories.

A Dog’s Life, by Ann M. Martin: I’ve always been a sucker for animal stories.

 Resonance: Dark and Light, by Bruce Boston: Great speculative poetry collection. A big influence on some of the poetry I’ve been trying to write lately.

Prodigal, by Steve Malley:  Gotta have a little ass kicking in one’s reading year.

Herokia 1: Dragon Eaters, by Janet Morris (Contributor and editor): A collection of dragon stories, of all different kinds. Good stuff. 

Web of Gunsmoke, by Will Hickok: Another great western tale.

Claimed by the Enemy, Shauna Roberts: Great historical fiction. 

Lemmy. R. I. R. (rest in rock)

Lemmy Kilmister has died. He was the frontman, bass player, and heart and soul of the band Motorhead. I won’t rehash his story. It’s easy enough to find on the net, especially since his death. What I will say is that I’m sorry to hear of his loss. His music was important to me. As I’ve often said, I don’t typically respect specific people, although I might respect certain behaviors that folks exhibit. Lemmy is probably about as close to a whole person I could respect as there exists out there. Death owes us all an apology for taking Lemmy. Here are my top five favorite Motorhead tunes.

5. Killed by Death: Something has to take you out. Might as well be death. 

4. Ace of Spades: My introduction to the band. 

3. In the Year of the Wolf: Remembering how we were when we were young. 

2. Just Cos You got the Power: An anthem for the little man. 

1. Deaf Forever: The best heroic fantasy song ever written. 

A Very Zombie Christmas

Since finishing a major writing project, I’ve been playing quite a bit of a Undead Nightmare the past few days. This is a zombie video game based on the western Red Dead Redemption. I’m having a lot of fun. There are four different kinds of zombies, including fast crawlers and “retchers” that spew green puke at you. There are also mythical animals like the sasquatch, the chupacabra, and the four horses of the apocalypse, which you can catch and ride. So far I’ve only caught “War,” who is on fire and burns all the zombies he touches.  Last night, zombies entered my dreams, and the results were quite hilarious. I was living in a zombie apocalypse but wasn’t a zombie. To survive, I was mimicking their behavior. Here’s the tale:

I’m shambling along when I bump head on into another zombie. He snarls at me and I snarl back, but neither of us will give way. We start battering against each other with our heads and upper bodies, trying to knock the other aside. I look more closely at the other zombie after a moment and realize he’s the chef from my favorite restaurant. I still won’t give way and keep battering. Gradually I seem to be winning.

Then, three other zombies come over and start beating at me with their fists and arms, and I realize it is to make me leave ‘their’ favorite chef alone. The next thing I see is a quick cut of the restaurant itself, which looks like a wooden plank shack on the side of a river. The door pushes open and dozens of zombies start stumbling out and coming toward me. One is carrying what looks like a hoe. I realize that they too are angry at me for attacking their favorite chef. In the final scene, I’m lying on my back, victorious after my battle with the chef, and I’m holding up his mandible. I shout at the zombies coming toward me: “let’s see him talk to you without this.”

Had I written this instead of dreaming it, I surely would have had my hero holding up the chef’s hands and shouting: “let’s see him cook for you without these.”

I can’t help but add one more scene that seemed to follow this dream. I appeared to be a real zombie this time, and shambling back and forth across a stage that had been set up for a rock band. Suddenly a bra landed on the stage at my feet. I guess I’d earned a fan!

                 

"Reader's Choice"

Speaking strictly as a reader now, and not as a writer, I want to say a few things about the kind of advice that new writers are often given. I may be something of a unique reader, so for all of you who want to write, take my comments with a grain of salt. I know you need readers, not just one reader, not just me.

First, many recent writing guides suggest that starting with dialogue is a good idea. As a reader, I absolutely hate this. Most of the books I’ve picked up and put back down after a few sentences are ones that began with dialogue. Ann Rice’s Interview with the Vampire is an example. Some writers can create truly excellent dialogue, but the fact is that I don’t care about what the character says until I begin to get a feeling for the inner nature of the character. That means, I need to see them acting, not talking.

Second, I’ve been told all my writing life that you never start a story with the weather.  As a reader, I absolutely love it when writers do this. Now, it needs to be good strong weather, and the character needs to be pitted against it, but—for me—opening with a character fighting against a storm, or freezing cold, or violent high seas instantly catches my attention and brings me into the tale. There is immediate intense conflict. Many of my favorite reads begin with the character facing off against nature.  Westerns often begin this way. Perhaps my favorite short story of all time, Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” begins this way. Note that, for me, a beating sun or a cold, dark night also constitute a form of weather. 

As far as openings that catch my attention, what do I personally like as a reader? A character placed in a strong setting with conflict looming, or at least with a question as to why the character is in this place. Here’s the opening to the book I’ve reread more than any other, To Tame a Land, by Louis L’Amour.  “It was Indian country, and when our wheel busted, none of them would stop. They just rolled on by and left us setting there, my pap and me.”

Here’s the first two lines of The Road, my favorite of Cormac McCarthy’s books:  “When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one than what had gone before.”

Here’s the opening paragraph of Teot’s War by Heather Gladney. It’s got everything I crave for an opening, and poetry too!  “Heat beat down on my shoulders, my face cloth. My armor dragged at the riding sores underneath. Little sparkles danced behind my eyelids, and the strains in my joints were cramping to knots in the muscles. It had been a long ride. A grating call made my shoulders twitch. The carrion crows, who glided after us day after day, were waiting.”

Tarred with a Dangerous Brush

Final exams began for me on Wednesday  (December 9) and I’ve got tests also on Thursday and Friday. After that I’ll be grading so I won’t be visiting blogs for a few days, probably not until Monday. I did want to share a little something before hunkering down with a red pen, though.

Those of you who know me, know that I’m a Liberal. You may or may not know that I’m not a fan of the current GOP front runner. I’ll call him the “Grump” in keeping with the season of the Grinch. I’ve never had any positive regard for the Grump, never watched his TV show, never had the remotest interest in his thoughts about the world. However, I now find myself in the unpleasant position of having to defend him on one, very specific matter.

In the last couple of days I have seen the Grump accused—and “accused” is very much the right word—of having “read” both Mein Kampf and the speeches of Adolph Hitler. This is clearly an attempt to paint him with the Nazi brush. Despite the Grump’s rather uncanny physical resemblance to Il Duce, and despite disagreeing with everything I’ve heard out of his mouth so far, I don’t find the “he’s a Nazi” attacks terribly compelling. That’s not my point with this post, though. Others have made a closer study of his behaviors and can certainly express their opinions on the matter.

No, what I’m saying is that you can’t judge an individual’s personality simply from his or her reading material. Maybe Grump considers Hitler his role model, but you cannot make that judgment based just upon what he’s read. You literally do not know what his reasons were. I’ve also read both Mein Kampf and many of Hitler’s speeches. I read them for a couple of reasons. First, I was a history minor in college with a particular interest in WWII, and I thought at one point I might go to grad school in history. Second, as a psychologist, I’m also a student of people, and of why and how people do the things they do. Reading these works both educated me on the dangers of fascism, and also helped cement my own opposition to it.

Reading Mein Kampf does not make you a Nazi any more than reading the Bible makes you a Christian, or reading the Quran makes you a Muslim, or reading Roots makes you African American. As a reader, I protest anyone’s attempt to say differently. Would you want to be judged on the basis of that one erotica novel you read? As a liberal, I think this kind of tactic is beneath us because it is irrational. There is plenty enough to criticize about the Grump without reaching for straws, and this is a very dangerous straw indeed.

The First Five Parker Novels

      I just finished reading The Score, which is #5 in the Parker series by Richard Stark. I’ve been reading them in the order they were written, although I’m not sure that’s really important.  I did not grow up reading crime fiction, other than John D. MacDonald’s work. So I was very late discovering the Parker novels. I had certainly heard quite a bit of good stuff about them before I ever tried one, but it wasn’t until November 2014 that I got to the first one in the series.  I was bowled over by that book, The Hunter, and immediately bought the next 12 or so in the series.  Here are my reviews of the first five books:

     

      The Hunter: (4 stars). I had never read anything by Richard Stark, or by Donald Westlake, which is the author's real name. The Stark books feature a character named Parker, who is generally described as a thief, although he certainly does plenty of killing too. This is the first one in that series and there are at least 23 more. This one has been filmed at least twice that I know of. I enjoyed this one a lot and am irritated at myself for waiting so long to read one. I'd been hearing good things about them for years. 

     What we are looking at with this book is a stripped down, noir tale. No wasted motion, no wasted words, no wasted description. This makes it a quick read. I didn't quite get through it in one sitting but came close. 

      I like books with rich, sensuous description, but this one doesn't have any of that and I liked it too. I suspect that I wouldn't want to read three or four of them back to back, but it's a quick, hard hitting work that you can mix in among other, perhaps more leisurely, reads.

     

      The Man with the Getaway Face: (4 stars). This is the second in the Parker series. Not quite as compelling as the first to me, but still very good. Parker is a real SOB in many ways and you don't necessarily root for him, but the combination of the intensity of that character and the compelling plot line keeps you turning the pages. I've just started the third in the series.

     

      The Outfit: (4 stars). Third in the Parker series. Parker went to all the trouble to get a new face that was revealed in book 2, but finds by the end of that book that his new appearance has been revealed anyway and the "Outfit," (Organized Crime) is out to kill him. Parker strikes back as only he can do. Good one!

     

      The Mourner: (3 stars). This is still a good read, but I liked it least of the four Parker books I've finished so far. One reason is that Parker is actually only on the scene for a little over half the book. Quite a bit of the book follows another guy named Menlo, who has betrayed Parker. Still, it was a quick, enjoyable read.

     

      The Score: (3 stars). This is the longest of the Parker books I’ve read so far and I’d rank it about where I ranked #4, The Mourner. It was good, but not as good as the first three. In this book, a man comes to Parker and some colleagues with an idea for a huge score, one in which they’ll essentially rob an entire town. Everything seems to be going well when the fellow who initiated everything turns out to have a private agenda. Hell breaks loose. I thought there were a few slow spots, particularly where Parker’s crew is hiding out for a while. Parker also had less to do with the resolution of the story than in the previous books. I still enjoyed it quite a lot, however. And fortunately I have quite a few more of these books on my shelves!

      

Al About Story: Part One

Story is the way we make sense of the world. Take science, for example. You gather data. Some of it agrees with other bits of it. Some of it doesn’t. You gather more data. Eventually you make a story that connects the data. We call it a theory.

A “story” can be fictional or true, or it can mix the two together. A scientific theory is like that last option. At least some of it is true, or so the researchers believe. Though the parts we think are true today might turn out not to be true tomorrow. Researchers also know that some parts of a theory probably aren’t true, but they won’t find out what is or isn’t true until more data comes in.

Once in a while, to try to make sense out of a theory that has too many gaps, scientists throw in a known falsity. They call it a hypothetical construct. It serves its purpose to help the story flow smoothly, but it’s like a plot twist forced onto a tale by the author during the first draft. It never feels completely right, and hopefully it gets replaced during the revision process.

As the years go by and theories are tested, and as they pass those tests, they move closer and closer to being true in the final sense of that word. And they help us understand a very complex and chaotic universe by turning it into stories full of meaning and relevance.

We humans are constantly in the process of telling stories. Science is just one of type of story, though one very interesting to me. In future posts I'll explore a few other types of stories.

In Their Glory

Fiddling around with a poem today. Not quite sure where it might be going. Here's what I've got so far.

I see the wolves of winter

in their glory,

wearing coats of blood.

As black eyes flame to blue,

they bare the teeth that

bring justice to the night.

I see the feral horses of hell.

I hear the saber rattle

of iron hooves on stone.

Their eyes roil with desire

to sow their foes destruction

and reap them of life.

The Kind of Thing that Makes my Job Hard

I grew up on a farm so I’ve dug plenty of ditches, put in postholes, hauled hay, chopped wood, chopped ice off the ponds, herded cattle, picked up rocks, planted garden, dug up gardens and plenty of other kinds of physical labor. I’m under no illusions that what I do today as a professor is anywhere nearly as tough. However, I also wouldn’t say it’s easy—at least much of the time. Just today I experienced another example of how my job can be tough, and how it is so often made a lot tougher than it needs to be because of others not doing their work.  Let me walk you through a frustrating moment of my exciting academic life!

At my university, I’m chair of a research committee that has to evaluate all research using human participants on campus. I get a lot of proposals to look at, averaging about 4 a week during the school year, and a whole lot more questions or requests for information. Around 85% of the proposals I get require some changes, although many times these aren’t very extensive. I’ve learned over the years to be very, very clear on the changes I require, because it saves me a lot of time.  The problem comes in when people either don’t listen to my requirements, or make mistakes in implementing them. Here’s an example from today, and—unfortunately—not a particularly rare example.

For one particular proposal, I required changes to three pages of a 25+ page document. These were mostly minor. First, I needed to have two lines removed from a document that the participants will see. Second, I needed to have a typo corrected on a part of their survey, so that the participants wouldn’t be confused by the wording. Third, I needed some clarification on a line from their proposal. The proposal was sent in Friday and I emailed them my requested changes Friday evening.

Today, Monday, the researchers sent an email indicating that they’d completed the changes I requested and the documents were attached. Here’s what I found.

First, the exact same page with the same two lines in it that needed to be removed. Nothing whatsoever was changed.

Second, they did indeed correct the typo. However, instead of just correcting it, they reworded the entire sentence. This rendered the sentence incomprehensible.

Third, no clarification of the issue from their proposal, which was the most important of the three.

This is not from students, mind you. This is from PhDs. And almost certainly this is a case of the researchers feeling overworked and trying to rush to get something done. I know they know how to make the corrections I needed them to make. But haste and carelessness do not go well together. The big problem is that it costs “me” time.

Had the researchers just made the corrections/changes I asked for, it would have taken me maybe three minutes to process it and get them their approval. Instead, I had to construct another email to clarify what I needed, to indicate the new problem introduced into the survey, and to ask once more for information I’d already asked for.  At least some of this I could copy and paste from original email. But it still took a lot longer than three minutes since I also have to keep careful records on all correspondence carried out for every proposal I see. That means quite a lot of additional paperwork for me. And we’re still not done!

Now, who wouldn’t want to go to school for umpteen many years so they, too, could have this kind of exciting academic adventure?

Forgotten Book Friday: Web of Gunsmoke

Web of Gunsmoke, by Will Hickok

Will Hickock was a pseudonym of Chester William Harrison (1913-1994), although Harrison apparently only wrote three westerns under that name. Two of these were tie-ins with the TV show “The Restless Gun,” which I’ve never seen an episode of. The third was Web of Gunsmoke and I liked it very much. I will certainly be seeking out more Harrison works. He was apparently quite a prolific author who wrote under several different names, include Coe Williams and C. William Harrison. I’ve seen various statements that he wrote up to 1200 works, counting books and stories, but I’ve not found a breakdown of that and I haven’t been able to locate many of his works online other than his westerns. I haven’t had time to do any extensive looking, though.

In Web of Gunsmoke (copyright 1955), Curt Selby rides back into the town of Signal after several years absence. When he’d left, he’d been a reckless, heavy drinking young man. He returns sober and mature, but he finds that much has changed. His father, Hamp Selby, was the biggest rancher in the area but had always gotten along well with his neighbors. However, an aging Hamp has turned over the ranch to Curt’s half brother, Phil, and Phil has used guile and pressure to run those neighbors off and gain control of their lands. He’s hired a crew of gun toughs to back his play. Now, Hamp wants Curt to put Phil back in his place, but most of the townsfolk are backing Phil. There is, of course, a woman caught in the middle. She was once Curt’s girl, but now she’s pledged to marry Phil.

The plotting in this book is not its primary strength. There was a fair amount of what I call “backtracking” in the plot, where the character moves one direction, then has to reverse his/her direction to get back where they started. This often looks like the author is just shoving things around at random to get conflict and add length to the story. That may have been the case in Web of Gunsmoke, but it didn’t bother me tremendously and I felt the plot was certainly adequate.

The strength of the story lies in interesting characters, strong action, and very good writing. Hickok was very good in this book at sketching the backgrounds in quickly but effectively. He also was able to sum up emotional scenes dramatically and succinctly.

Here are a few examples: (Just assume the quote marks please)

1. The coin, the silver dollar, struck Selby in the corner of the mouth, bringing blood. It hurt.

2. “You forgot your drink,” Bannon said. “No,” said Selby. “I didn’t forget it.” He kept on walking.

 3. He liked fine things. Fine whiskey, fine horses like this high-stepping black.

So, overall, this was an enjoyable book that has stayed with me for the week since I read it, and I think it’ll stay with me a while longer. The cover shown here, by the way, is from a different version than I have. My cover is the fourth printing from Signet Books. It’s mostly a kind of orange with a cowboy on the front. I like it better than the one shown here. It looks like it was done by the same artist who did a lot of Louis L’Amour covers from around that time. Couldn’t find the artist’s name listed, though.

Today’s Beautiful Writing: Robert E. Howard

Since, too often these days, I’m not coming up with blog posts related to my own work, I thought I’d start doing some more posts where I highlight beautiful writing from others. I started here but have been doing most of this on facebook. For my selections so far, I’ve gone with writers like Ray Bradbury, Pearl S. Buck, and Peter Matthiessen, all recognized literary figures who are known for their good writing. But beautiful writing comes from all kinds of places. It comes from places that many literary readers might not suspect.

I’m not a literary reader. I’m just a reader. I read pretty much anything and everything. The following selection is from a writer who has had a big influence on my fiction interests, both reading and writing. It’s Robert E. Howard, a man who died young but who in a short time created several iconic characters, including Conan the Barbarian and Solomon Kane. Howard was a very fine writer. Here’s the opening of one of his “Crusader” stories. The tale is called “Lord of Samarcand.”

“The roar of battle had died away; the sun hung like a ball of crimson gold on the western hills. Across the trampled field of battle no squadrons thundered, no war-cry reverberated. Only the shrieks of the wounded and the moans of the dying rose to the circling vultures whose black wings swept closer and closer until they brushed the pallid faces in their flight.”

To me, beautiful writing isn’t just about describing beautiful scenes and beautiful feelings. Often, in fact, the scenes and feelings can be anything but conventionally beautiful. Beautiful writing is about creating a mood with a flow words that are placed in the right order for maximum effect. It’s about creating an emotional resonance in my psyche. This piece achieves that. Much of Howard’s work does.