Hate to Say I Told You So: Part 3

Hammer of the Gods

"It is said that when one strikes the Bell of the Universe with the Hammer of the Gods the path between worlds will open.  Some devout Brixies want to do this in order to enter a parallel universe in which Homo sapiens died out and only the Brixies are left.  Such a world is like heaven to them.  They call it Brixton.

"Some say that ringing the bell and rending the veil between universes will destroy them.  Some say it will destroy only ours.  Could you please pass the butter?"

Troy, Maggie, Abby and Dart were all sitting around Troy's breakfast nook table.  Abby had made an omelet for each of them, but only Troy ate as the others just sat and listened to him.

Doctor Troy Green drank some coffee and delightfully chewed his mushroom and cheese omelet. 

They were all dressed: Maggie in the clothes she had worn the previous night, only at this time they were all completely on; Dart still wore the tux he came in on; and Abby was in Troy's robe.  Troy had washed and dressed in a tweed jacket, sweater vest, violet paisley tie, wool trousers with cargo pockets and boots.  The bulges of harmonicas were obvious in his pockets.

"This is delightful, Abby.  Everyone, eat up." 

Abby, sensing her food would freeze on the plate, took a bite.  Dart's cell rang and he took it in the other room.  While he was gone Maggie tried the omlet and enjoyed it so much that she nearly finished it by the time Dart came back.

"That was my wife.  They were waiting for them when they got back to my house.  They took Barb and said they would let us know how we could get her back later.  They were the same little men, these, what did you call them, Brixies.  What is a Brixie?"  Dart asked, "Why are they involved with my daughter's abduction?"

Troy held up his empty fork, "Complicated and I don't know."  He filled his fork, filled his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Brixies are a race of people, not at all closely related to Homo sapiens.  They are at least as intelligent as us, and as old a race, but they are not in the genus Homo nor did they evolve the way we did.  They have been beside or with us for many millennium.  

"Often they've been mistaken for Little People, fairies, pixies and such.  They do know and are capable of magic.  In fact, I learned my magic from Brixie friends.  The ones that came here and stole the Hammer were from a sect that calls themselves the Guns of Brixton, dedicated to bringing about or even hastening the rise of Brixton.  Whether they or any other Brixies are involved with your daughter's abduction or who this wizard woman is, I don't know."  He shrugged, "The more pressing matter is, they've likely taken the hammer to -"

"Well, I'd like to know," Dart said.  "I thought you could help me."

Troy nodded, "I did give you that indication and I will help you.  The trouble is, I have very little information and two completely different sources.  You know your daughter was taken away and we have not been given the reason or ransom demand yet.  I know the Hammer of the Gods has been taken away and what they plan on doing with it.

"I can't take a chance with something of this magnitude.  I must go after the Hammer first.  I don't ask any of you to come with, but I would appreciate and benefit if Abby would."

Dart slammed his palm on the table and stood, "I realize the world MAY end, but I know my daughter is in trouble and needs help.  I don't want to wait on the ransom demand, I want action now."

Maggie spoke up.  She had been so silent it caused everyone to turn in silence, though she didn't speak loudly at all, "Why don't we do both?  Abby and I know Troy is very capable at handling two issues at the same time."  She was smiling when she started, but the blush blossomed on her face until even her ears were red.  She hid both her embarrassment and arousal by taking a large forkful of omelet and focusing on its delightful taste.

Troy cleared his throat and purposefully avoided Abby's smile, "Let's formulate a plan then.  The problem is, although I can handle, ahem, two issues at once; I cannot be in two places at once.  Only I know how to handle the Guns, and I'm the only one in the room that knows magic."

"Do we need magic to follow up on Dart's wizardess?"  Abby asked.

"What?"  Dart asked as he sat back down.

"You said you have too little information," Abby continued.  "Why not let us gather information from Dart's problem.  That's what we need now, so we will be prepared when the ransom comes."

"Yes," Maggie said, "I can lead that."

"You can?"  Dart, Abby and Troy asked.

"Yes," she said as if saying, "Duh!"  She took another forkful of omelet, chewed and let them lean closer and closer.  "I'm a detective, didn't you know?"

Abby and Troy turned and stared at each other, "I had no idea," they chorused.  "What sort?"  Abby asked.

Dart looked at all of them for a moment, "You three were sleeping together, weren't you?"  He asked, his face brightening in knowledge, "And none of you know who the other is, do you?"

"I work for a private detective firm in Chicago called Acme Ace Advanced Detective Service."

Abby smiled broadly, "This sounds like a good idea.  Troy and I will pursue the Guns of Brixton, and Maggie - "

"They know nothing of magic.  Despite what I'm sure are excellent investigative skills, young Detective Pipp would not know what to look for nor how."

"We have to try, don't we?"  Dart said.

Troy opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by a bass chord at least as loud as the magical notes he had played on the didgeridoo.  The vibrations permeated them all and they could feel another magical spell winding its way around and through them.

The chord pounded again.  Then on the third time all the windows and doors, including the oven and microwave, opened at the same time.

Hate to Say I Told You So, Part 2

The Guns of Brixton

Troy put the didgeridoo to his lips and began to blow.  The tones came out with an unexpected power, a beauty entrancing.  He weaved the instrument through the air and the music followed developing, growing, becoming physical.  The colors of the room swam and time seemed to slow.

The invaders drew truncheons from within their hoods.  The ones holding Maggie Pipp yanked her back by the hair.  Others moved forward on Abby, who dropped to the ground.

Troy stood weaving a spell all around the room.  While it developed, slowing growing, blossoming, spreading; Dart stepped out of the office brandishing a hockey stick as a kendo shinai.  With a shrill cry he leapt at the intruders.

As four of the strangers neared Abby, prostrate on the floor, she spun and with a leg sweep took down two assailants.  In one graceful movement she was up with their truncheons in each hand.  She became beautiful mayhem.  Her movements were graceful, fluid, expert and precise.  She looked like she was dancing through the men, striking and bringing them down.

In their defense, it is quite distracting to get your butt handed to you by a beautiful naked woman using what looks like gymnastic ballet moves.

Dart too was having quite a bit of success.  His long, thin limbs in black tie made him look like a cross between one of Sinbad's fighting skeletons and Jack Skellington, but the reach and skill were masterfully effective.  The intruders fell left and right.  Though many of them returned to their feet, they didn't remain there long.

Even Maggie was fighting back.  She brought her foot up behind her to plant her heal in the groin of one of her restrainers.  She stamped down on the instep of the other, though in her bare feet the effect was painful but not debilitating.

The music Troy was knitting through the room was starting to envelope them all palpably.  There was a feeling of the magic through them, touching their souls.

Suddenly, just as Abby's foot arched to land on a face, the face was gone.  The owner of the face had vanished.

Across the room, as Dart was swinging down to waylay one of the interlopers still holding Maggie, that man too vanished, blinked away.

Maggie, finding a hand free, swung a fist at the other detainer.  Again, the blow was too light to make any real impact, but as it struck home he disappeared.

The music built up, layering upon itself.  It seemed that notes, chords, the tune itself was lingering and lacing itself around the gatecrashers.  Suddenly, in a great crescendo, with music filling the room, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, the climax was reached and every hooded ruffian ceased to be there.

The whirling Amazonian devastation came to a halt near Troy, who, as he took the tubular instrument from his mouth, pulled Abby to him and kissed her long and deep.  She came away smiling.

"Who were they?"  Dart asked.

"What did they want?"  Maggie asked.

"Hammer of the Gods, Guns of Brixton," Troy slurred slightly.

There was a crashing sound from the office.  They rushed into the room, led by Troy.  There they found a case shattered and a hooded intruder standing with a meter long bell mallet in his hands.  He threw his head back and sang a single note, pure and clear.  Then he vanished.

"That was the Hammer of the Gods?"

"Hammers, mallets, same thing, translation error," Troy shrugged.  "Let's have that coffee and brush our teeth.  I have to make a few phone calls.  Then I'll go after him."

"Coffee?  Don't we need to go now?"  Abby asked.

"Listen, I need coffee right now.  Also, I am brushing my teeth and getting dressed.   I have no intention of gallivanting around Arthur Dent-esque."

End of Poll(s)

The last poll we had is going to be the last poll we're going to do for a while.  They are not generating as much discussion or replying as I had hoped, and I often have trouble coming up with ideas for them.

Our last poll was for what is your favorite movie/literary monster.  The results were two vampire types and one Other.  I like cosmic horror which I think would fall under other.

Thanks to everyone who has participated.  If you want more polls please let me know.  If you have ideas for polls let me know as well.

Thanks.

Hate to Say I Told You So - Part 1

Kiss Off

"Troy Green!"

The pounding was incessant.

"Mr. Green!" 

He wondered how on earth she was able to keep up that level of knocking on apartment door.

He rolled over and bumped into a girl.  He hadn't remembered there being a girl there, hadn't remembered bringing her home; but he had done a lot of magic the previous night.

When he bumped her she groaned and slid out her side of the bed.  The sound of it was like the toll booth warning strips to his hung-over ears.

"I think someone's at the door.  I gotta pee."  She stood and walked naked to the bathroom.  She was far too skinny for her own good and far too young for his.

"Mr. Green?"  The voice was plaintive, and he realized the pounding was mostly in his own head.  He took a deep breath, grit his teeth and got himself up.  His world spun for a moment.  He waited for it to stop before he put a robe over his boxers and went to answer the door.

In the front room of his Chicago two flat he found another girl, or rather he found a woman, healthier and older than his bedmate.  She was under blankets on the couch but he would have guessed she too was naked.  He had done a lot of magic the night before.

The knocking and calling had stopped.  He picked up his pace and answered the door as quickly as he could while fighting back vomit.

Beyond the door was no one, the hallway empty.

"May I help you?"  He called, cursing his esoteric oath under his breath.

"Um, Mr. Green?"  A woman called from outside his field of view.

"Doctor, actually; may I help you?"

A head appeared just above the floor from the stairway below.  It was not the head of a woman unless she was the kind of woman with a full beard and male patterned baldness.  His very high pitched voice matched his body like fingernails match a chalkboard (go ask your grandfather what a chalkboard is).

He walked back up the stairs, getting taller and taller until Troy expected him to have to duck or hit his head on the ceiling. The ring of hair starting above his ears was long and braided.  He wore a soiled, wrinkled and skewed tuxedo.

He smiled hopefully at Troy and stuck out a boat oar of a hand.  "I'm D'Artagnan Pneuman.  The "P" is silent."

"Of course it is."

"I'm so glad you're home.  I'm a very desperate man."

"Why don't you come inside and sit down before I fall down.  What did you say your name was?"

"D'Artagnan Pneuman, P-N-E-U-M-A-N, like pneumonia.  My friends call me, 'Dart' for short."

"I refuse to believe there is anything short about you."

Dart laughed and a girl slipped out the door while the men were trying to go in.

"I think you just lost a friend," Dart said.

"He has plenty," a deep womanly voice said from the kitchen.  Troy expected the older one would be difficult to dislodge.  It was the skinny one that had scampered out, wearing some clothes and clutching the rest.

"Can I get you two gentlemen some coffee?"  Her voice was deep and rich like Kathleen Turner eating dark chocolate covered strawberries.  She was at least ten years older than Troy, curvy but fit, she wore the blanket seductively off her shoulders and one ashen lock fell over an eye.  It made Troy stammer.

"In my office, please," Troy pointed in the direction of the office and then forced his feet to follow his finger.  He just had to remember her name, or at lease who she was. 

He led Dart into a book, artifact and musical instrument filled room.  Dart had to duck under each doorway.

"Have a seat, Mr. Pneuman and tell me why you're desperate."

"A curse has been put on my house and family.  My daughter has been put under a magical spell and I think she is going to be kidnapped today."

"What makes you think that?"

"I got this note," he handed Troy a small scrap of velum.  In a brown ink it said, "We're coming to get Barbara tomorrow."

"Can you help us, Dr. Green?"

"You got this at the wedding, no?"

"What?  How did you know we were at a wedding?"

"The tux."

"It was Susan's wedding, Barbara's sister.  We were all having a lovely time.  Everyone was dancing and then the music got louder and faster, and faster.  It was too fast but nobody could stop dancing.  Suddenly it stopped and a woman appeared on the stage with the band.  The room was also surrounded by dark, ominous figures in robes, or hooded sweatshirts.

"The woman raised a stick and waived it around.  Then she sang some chant I couldn't understand.  The hoodie guys sang too.  They started swaying until suddenly Barbara collapsed in the middle of the floor."

"Staff."

"What?"

"She had a staff, not a stick.  Go on."

"Barbara fell to the floor.  The band tried to grab the old woman, but she snatched up the accordion, squeezed it and with a G minor chord she vanished.  One of the hoodie fellas gave me the note."

"A G minor chord, hmm."

"Can you help us?"  Dart asked, but his voice seemed to be deeper on certain words.

"Say that again."

"Help, can you help us?"

That time it was clear that the words, "Help" were far deeper and coming from the other room.

Doctor Troy Green sprang from his chair and snatching a didgeridoo from beside the office door he rushed into the front room.

The older woman, Abby, Abby Bancroft, mother of the groom, what a relief that was to Troy.  Abby was standing naked in the front room with the blanket she had been wearing fallen around her.

Also around her, around the room in fact were a dozen or so stocky short figures in hoods. One of which was holding the younger woman, Maggie Pipp, boy it was all coming back to him now.

"Give us what we want, Green or the girls get it," the leader said menacingly.

Troy Green Associate Professor of Ethnology and Comparative Religions brandished his oddly painted and carved Australian Aboriginally inspired musical instrument and said, "Kiss off!"

Καλό Μήνα Ιούλιος - Good Month, July!

I've changed the background in the blog.  I thought I needed a change.  I love that picture I was using.  I took that picture myself, but I need to change my approach, my attitude and I'm starting with the theme.

I'll be changing it again.  I don't have much time tonight and I need to find the right picture.  Like a favorite song, a cherished aroma, comfort food, an inspirational picture can make a dramatic difference.

I'm going to write.  I'm going to post.  It may be sloppy, ugly and short at first, but I'm sure it will grow on me, and hopefully on my readers as well.

I went back and read, "Barfight at Simplicity Genoid" as well as the Empire Beyond Mars stuff I have on this blog.  I'm fairly inspired. I've also been listening to the Indiana Jones theme and the weather has been very inspirational.  This blog post is a good first step.

Surrender, June!

As June draws to a close I look here at this blog and realize that I did not post once this month.  That is inexcusable.  I had intended to post regularly, once a week. I wanted to post fun things.  I was going to post about world building through a character.  I didn't do any of it.

What was wrong; why didn't I?  I don't think I was moving in the right direction.  I am absolutely swamped with things to do.  I have family, work, scouts, etc and as it stands I relax maybe a few hours a week while sleeping about five hours a night.  I literally don't have enough time in the day.

That's still no excuse.  I get a great deal of pleasure from writing.  I am proud, entertained, happy, thrifty, accomplished, tickled and so much more.  I need to find some way to write here and share that in a way that is consumable by others.

I tell myself stories all the time.  That was one of the major reasons I started writing.  I figured I was already doing it, I might as well do it so that others can read and enjoy.  If I could make money doing it all the better.  I will never make money writing if I can't write regularly.  I won't even get to enjoy it unless I do it.

So, as we say goodbye to June, I also say goodbye to Zoso Angrybarn, at least for now.  She is a lovely girl and her country is a very nice and interesting place.  I just couldn't really find her, nor could I find an actual story for her to live in.  It just wasn't coming together.

I am itching to write.  I will be doing some writing very soon and it will be the kind of writing I can share here.

June?  I'm afraid I'm going
to have to let you go.

The good news is, I have been writing.  I finished a story this year and had some help editing it.  It is a rather long short story, but I was aiming at a particular market.  Unfortunately that market is not accepting submissions right now.  Missed that boat.

I may be throwing some questionable stuff on this blog in the near future.  It may not be my best stuff, but I resolve not to start something and not finish it.

Movie Poll Review - New Poll (don't be frightened)

Gene Hackman as Polish MG Sosabowski

Our last poll was a movie one.  What is your favorite Chicago movie.  Blogger dumped our results lately, but if I remember correctly it was one Ferris Bueller, one Blues Brothers and one Other.

My next poll is regarding horror stories.  What is your favorite type of monster?

Stephen King in his non-fiction book, Danse Macabre describes four basic archetypal
"monsters."  He names them The Frankenstein, The Vampire, The Werewolf and The Ghost.  In our poll we'll look at them another way.  This other way perhaps may expand the tropes is (respectively):

• The Thing that Should Not Be
• Frankenstein
• Cruel intelligences
• Demons and devils
• Evil incarnate
• Mindless destroyers
• The Thing that Devours Us
• The Vampire
• Animal predators
• Parasites
• Possessing demons
• Succubi
• Viruses
• Zombies 
• The Thing with Two Faces
• The Werewolf
• Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
• Dictators
• Serial killers
• Transmorgifiers
• The Thing that Would Not Die
• The Ghost
• Banshees
• Liches
• Slashers
• Spectres
• That which demands revenge
• That which seeks death
• Wraiths

I'm not sure where Lovecraftian Cosmic Horror falls.  I suppose some of it is Mindless Destroyers, but not always.  I just don't know.  If you don't know what your favorite monster fall under, please  put in a comment and we can try to figure it out together.

Thursdays Are Right Out

Writing on Thursday is not working for me either.  I volunteered to help coach the local High School Rugby club as it is just getting started.  That's all my "free" time on Thursday.

Penoan flag

I'm going to make this a quick post, but I wanted to introduce someone you our blogging community.  Her name is Zoso (I hope she forgives me, I think her last name is Volvóodis-Lagenam Iratus-Phteris, but I could be wrong).  She lives in Chicago, but she emigrated from a small country called Penoa to the USA.  I would like her to share some of her native country's culture and history through interviews in the coming weeks.

She will likely say that she actually emigrated to the US from Canada.  In point of fact, her mother was expecting as they were coming from Penoa to America.  She went into labor when they had a layover in Canada.  They only stayed 24 hours before continuing on to the States, however Zoso maintains a duel citizenship, a fierce love of Hockey and all thing Canadian.

When I can get hold of her I will interview her and share her answers here.

Writing About Not Writing

Here it is, late on another Monday and I've not written my blog post yet.  I am writing about not writing, which is writing, but there is certainly some tautology there.  It seems a little like going back in time and killing your own grandfather.

I realized writing and posting both on Mondays is not a good idea.  I moved my writing day back to Thursday.  That didn't happen last Thursday, or Friday, or ...

I have made writing daily work.  It is a proven method for me, and plenty of other authors (or maybe I should just say authors).  Writing one day a week, or some days a week doesn't seem to work for me.

By the way, I have two interesting observations about the picture I used.  I think that's Hebrew on the keyboard.  I don't write or speak Hebrew, and please don't take it as a political statement.  I just found and like the picture.  It seemed appropriate for today's post.

The other observation is I found this picture on a blog called Dreaming On Paper.  I took it without permission (shh).  The date he posted it was 15 April 2013.  I had misread it and thought it said 2014.  It seemed strange that it should be posted tomorrow, but then it is tomorrow in some parts of the world already, and I thought it would be cool if I could post it with a date before the original date.  Unfortunately I eventually saw that it said 2013 and I eventually remembered that this is 2014.

Back to the writing part.  This is not an excuse, but more an observation on what works for me.

I am reminded of a small island in the Caribbean I visited once, well, by visited I saw it while messing around with Google Earth and what with all the pov pictures it's just like being there anyway.

The island is called San Vita, and is named after the patron saint of lost keys (remind you of a certain temple?).  Don't bother looking for it.  It is so small you'd never find it and anyway I pulled the Wikipedia article and sent a note to Google that it is fictitious.  I want to keep it all to myself.  It is just so adorable.

The native name for San Vita is Goinoware.  It was the name the inhabitants of nearby islands gave to the Spaniards when they first arrived.  It means, "What island, that one, oh we never go there, don't bother, it's a complete waste of time, and no fun at all."  Surprisingly efficient these native languages are, aren't they?

Back in the 1950s the CIA set it up as a Wicker Chair Monarchy.  It's similar to a Banana Republic, but instead of being fronted by the United Fruit Company this was the Amalgamated Patio Furniture Co.  It was headed by the King of Savings for years.

It's now an autocratic economy (everybody minds their own business) under a Liberal Dictatorship where everyone is at liberty to be a dictator to everyone else equally.

I think I may retire there someday.

Atlantis Rising

I have a "theory" about Atlantis.

Is that the temple of Biro, God of Lost Pens, on the far left?
pic courtesy of bermuda-triangle.org

Atlantis is the lost continent.  It stands to reason that if it is The LOST continent then it should be associated with lost things.

What I mean by, "associated" is that I envision temples to Lost Socks, Lost Keys, and Lost Glasses.  These would be great stone temples the glory of the ancient world where these lost things would just appear, filling the buildings from across time and space.

These must of necessity be transient locations for many of these things, thus the temples would be very active and lively places with keys popping in and then back out to return behind your sofa.  A temple might be blessed with the appearance of grandpa's horn-rim glasses only to lose them again a moment later when they return to perch on his bald pate.

There might be other things there too.  I imagine the people are all fat, but beautiful, young and sane.  They are very wise as well because they have the vast store of our own lost memories to call upon.

This is, of course a continent, a world outside our own; in another perhaps parallel universe, or perhaps on a very slight angle.  Yes, I believe it would not be perfectly parallel because at some time it, if only for a brief moment, if only in Plato's dreams, it crossed paths with our universe.  For a time a man could walk the streets and find his dog.  Maybe the people would approach him with his wallet he was sure he had had in his left back pocket.

They must have been wonderful times, but alas, they are all lost to us now.

Poll and Poll

A Pole pole courtesy of
The Copernicus Center Google+ page

Our last poll did illicit much response.  Only two people responded and said their preferred method of writing is with something computerish.

I actually had this poll idea a while back and now I get to use it.

What is your favorite Chicago movie?

I'm not going to list movies that are about Chicago if they weren't filmed here (I'm looking at you Chicago!) and short shots that are essentially stock footage don't count either (I'm looking at you My Big Fat Greek Wedding).  I'm debating including The Dark Knight.  Gotham looks so much better in these films because of Chicago, and if you know Chicago you know immediately it was filmed here.  On the other hand they call it Gotham, which I always considered to be New York.

I looked for some sites that listed movies in Chicago.  Esquire had a good article, and I'm thinking I should be able to trust Chicago Magazine and The Chicagoist.  I also pulled a list of all the movies ever filmed in Chicago since 1896 from The City of Chicago's own home Website.

For the poll I'm only going to put my top 5 up there to vote on, and an, "Other" category.  If you want to add others you can put a comment on this post.

Here is a list of Chicago movies I like:

• My Best Friend's Wedding - don't actually like the movie, but the City looks fantastic in this and it has the Cuneo Museum up here in my neighboring town of Vernon Hills.
• Candyman
• 16 Candles
• Untouchables - you don't like this movie?  "Well, you're not from Chicago."
• Backdraft - I don't think the firefighters will agree, but I like it
• About Last Night
• Stir of Echoes
• The Fugitive
• The Blues Brothers
• Risky Business - I have lots of comments about this, North Shore, "Looks like University of Illinois!", "Sometimes you just got to say...", the El, "Get off the babysitter", my mom told me Tom Cruise reminded her of me
• Ferris Bueller's Day Off
• The Break Up - again, don't like the movie, but Vaughn loves the City and it shows

There are some others that I've heard fantastic things about and may have seen part of, but not the whole thing:

• Ordinary People
• Road to Perdition
• Public Enemies
• Color of Money
• Call Northside 777
• Hoop Dreams
• High Fidelity
• Source Code
• My Bodyguard

What do you like?  What are your favorite quotes?  Please share and vote.

Cache - Bank - Cache

You would have thought I would have known better by now.  I've been doing this blog for years and yet I fell for a very beginners trap, of not having enough material banked in case of an emergency.

Imagine these are all blog posts

The last two days have been crazy at work and at Scouts, well, that's really just excuses.  I could not get to the computer to write a post for this blog on Mondays.  Regardless, I have committed to making posts each Monday and I should have.

The way you make sure you can post on a set schedule despite any eventuality is to have a cache of material which I do not have.

I tend to get so excited when I write a post that I don't hang on to it, I post right away.  Also, I've set Mondays as posting day and writing day.  What I should do in this case is to write two posts each Monday.  That way I will have one to post and one to bank.

I will make sure I do that going forward.

What I am going to do next is go through the 30 Days of Worldbuilding exercise I went through before.  This time I promise a story on this site exclusively.  My plan is for a lighthearted, serialized story.  I will do several, "Days" at a time and when I have gotten far enough along, when I write a post for a, "Day" I will also write a part of the story.

Just a slight preview, there will be a country called Penoa (located between Finland and Sweden) and another called Anoitoia (a floating island actually) the last colony of Atlantis.

I will, this week, post a second post (to help make up for a lack of a post Monday) to review the last poll and introduce a new poll.  What would you like to see on that poll?

Goal Slide Into the Box

I've completed my story, "The Figurine in the Box."  I've sent it copies to some people for review and comment, but I already know I'm going to make at least one major overhaul.  I'm going to edit it down about half of the 15,000 words it is now.

If you don't already have a copy and would like to read it please leave me a comment with an address to send it.

I think it is a good story.  It pretty much did what I intended it to when I started out.  My inspiration was listening to The Call of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft.  I wondered why Lovecraft's gods always had to be so ugly.  Of course they are alien and un-understandable, but why does that always have to equal ugly, hideous and frightening.  Can't something be beautiful, desirable and utterly frightening?

Bradbury explored this same question in "Something Wicked This Way Comes."  Bradbury didn't make it incomprehensible though.  Also, I think it took it in a different direction than where it went for me.

It took much longer than I had anticipated to finish it, and there is still a long way to go in editing it before I can submit it.  I needed to finish it, and it was a good exercise.  Now, it may be an equally useful exercise to edit this smaller story before I try to tackle editing Hidden Temple to the Lost Gods.

This is why I am not completely disheartened by my progress toward this year's writing goal.  My steps are different and smaller, but still headed in the right direction.

MY GOAL:  
Get Hidden Temple to the Lost Gods published by the end of the year.

STEPS:

1. ProNoFiMo in January
2. NaNoEdMo in March
3. Research publishing in April
4. Send it out to publishers starting end of April.

I'm going to have to add some steps:

1. Write "The Figurine in the Box" - DONE
2. Edit "The Figurine in the Box" - MARCH
3. Submit "The Figurine in the Box" for publication - APRIL
4. ProNoFiMo (Prop Novel Finishing Month) - MAY
5. NaNoEdMo - JUNE
6. Research publishing - JULY
7. Send it out to publishers - AUGUST to DECEMBER

And where does that leave you, dear Illini6 reader?  I've promised Mondays as writing day.  Mondays are the day to come here and see a new post.  If I am seriously dedicating myself to these steps what will there be for readers of this blog to read?

I could write more jokes.

I could report on my progress.

I could be completely ambitious and write stories or chapters just to be read here on this blog, from a story that will only appear on the blog.

Something tells me the last option is the preferred one, but only if I can pull it off.  There is the gist, the crux, can I pull it off?  I say I can, but I must offer one caveat, it will be simple and unpolished.

I will promise this, I will never again publish anything on this blog for which there is no ending which can be posted here.  I have posted parts of stories that had no ends.  I've posted parts of stories for which there was an end, but I had no intention of posting the ending here.  That won't ever happen again.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day everybody!

I've tried in fits and starts to have a tradition of writing and posting a St. Patrick's Day joke each year.

This is my record so far:
2010  (actually in 2011)
2011
2012:  missed
2013

This is my attempt for 2014:

We've all heard that St. Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland, but did you know that the snakes themselves have always wanted to go back.

The snakes felt they got a raw deal and were unfairly discriminated against, victims of species profiling.  After several years of exile they decided to get together and figure out how to return to their beloved homeland.

They rented a conference room at a Ramada in Chicago and held a huge convention.  All day long the met and discussed.  Imagine if you will a huge conference room filled with snakes, green as the emerald isle itself, all hissing in a thick Irish brogue.

By the end of the conference they had worked themselves into quite a lather, every one of them spitting mad at the one man who had done them all wrong.  Every one of those snakes was ready to strike, all except one, Sean O'Shea.

Sean sat quietly curled up on a beautiful box he had brought with him.  Eventually all the other snakes turned to look at him in confusion.

"Why is it, Sean O'Shea that yer not angry at Patrick, the man who drove us out?  Don't you love Ireland?"

"Aye, I love Ireland same as you all.  I love the land, the green, the people, but most of all I love the music.  I've always loved the music, the jigs, the reels, the hornpipes, the ballads, and the laments.

"I've always loved the fiddle, the uileann pipes, the flute, the concertina and the badhrans.  All me life I've wanted to play in an Irish band.

"One fine spring day I was making me way through the glen when I spied a wee little man.  Quick as a wink I coiled round him, cuz I knew right then, he was a leprechaun.

"I got yeh, leprechaun, sez I.  Now yeh got to give me yer crock o' gold.

"'Oh, ya got me sure and fast.' Sez he.  'You must be the quickest and smartest snake in all of Ireland.'

"'I am.' Sez I, 'I'm Sean O'Shea.'

"'Ah, Sean O'Shea, you say?' sez he, 'Not THE Sean O'Shea, the snake who wants to play in an Irish band?'

"'The same,' sez I.

"'Well,' sez he, 'I think I might have somethin' even more to yer likin' than me wee crock o' gold.  How would you like a magic concertina?'

"What use have such as I with no hands, for any concertina?' sez I.

"'Ah, this is a magical concertina.  This concertina plays all by itself.  It needs no hands, just a guiding soul to give it the tune.  If you release me I'll tell you where it is.'

"Now, I'm no fool.  I made that leprechaun tell me where to find this magical instrument before I released me coils.  As soon as I did he disappeared.

"I followed his instructions and true enough there in the valley I found just what he had sent me after.  The case itself was amazing, airtight, water tight, indestructible, with brass hinges and clasps.  The interior was lined with the finest velvet and silks.

"Nestled in that case me befell on the most beautiful sight I could ever imagine.  The magical concertina was inlaid with gold and silver.  The buttons were gem stones and pearls.

"As beautiful as it was, and try as I might I could not get that instrument to play one single note, not a single chord.  After trying  everything I could think of, in frustration I sought out that leprechaun.

"I found him, back in that glen I had caught him before.  None the wiser, I caught him again, wrapped me coils round him and squeezed.

"'Ah Sean, how are you enjoying yer concertina?' sez he.

"'I'm not.  It won't play.'

"'Won't play?  Ach, where's me head?  If it weren't attached I'd lose it sure.  Of course it won't play.  You need to know the magic word.'

"'Magic word?  What is the magic word?  Tell me quick.'

"Now, I suspected that leprechaun meant to cheat me.  I taut he had kept that bit about the magic word from me on purpose all along, but I taut I was smarter and with me coils wrapped round his wee body I threatened to squeeze out the breath of life if he didn't tell me.

"He told me that there was only one man in the whole of the world who knew the magic word to make the concertina play, but he alas was no longer in Ireland.  The man with the magic word had immigrated to America, and if I wanted the magic word I would have to follow him there.

"Well, me friends I packed up all me belongin's and set off to find him.  I floated across the wide Atlantic Ocean on the watertight case.  I've been looking fer the man with the magic word ever since.  So, my friends you ask me why I'm not angry at Saint Patrick, the answer is simple.  St. Patrick didn't drive me out of Ireland.  I left on me own accordion."

Pens, Polls and Goals

Energel and Piccadilly 

In my last poll I asked how you like your literature served, hot or cold, er no.  I asked, "How do you consume written material?":

1. Dead Trees (paper)
2. Magically (electronic devices)
3. Other

Three responded with dead trees and one responded, "Other."  I have no idea what other they meant, perhaps smoke signals, carved in stone perhaps by a bird ala the Flintstones), or maybe fiery letters writ by the Hand of God.

Our next poll is along a similar vein:

What writing instrument do you prefer?

I ask this because I've recently become interested and in the possession of fountain pens.  It all began on a warm summer evening.  I had been selected to mentor in Tanzania through a charitable foundation at work called Abbott Fund.  I thought it would be prudent to bring an analog, non-electronic (there are analog electronic systems, don't forget) system to record thoughts and such.

I had tried to keep a journal when I was deployed to Afghanistan with disastrous results.  It was 2003 when we were alerted and back then flash drives did not come cheap.  I killed several, including the "huge" 500 MB one I was keeping my journal on.

I started researching notebooks and pens.  I ended up taking a Pentel Energel as my primary pen and a Piccadilly 5.5" x 8.5" notebook (see image above).  The Pentel was a great pen and I ran it out of ink.  I ended up with my backup, a Pilot G2.  I did not like that one as much.

As I was looking into pens I realized I wanted a quality pen.  I also wanted one that was nice to write with.  I started seeing that fountain pens are making something of a come back, and thought I wanted to try them when I got back.

Image courtesy of JetPens.com

I like the idea of fountain pens, like watches they are collectible little machines that, when high quality can last several lifetimes.  Unlike watches they can be a bit cheaper.  It's also more common for people to have more than one pen, while watches are less so.

Image courtesy of eBay

I have three fountain pens now. The first is a Pilot Varsity.  It's a disposable and possibly my favorite.  The second one I got I haven't used yet, because I didn't realize it didn't come with ink.  It's a Bauer.

Image courtesy of JetPens.com

The one I got for Christmas from Mrs. Prop is the most expensive and potentially the nicest.  It is a Lamy AL-Star.  I've been  having trouble with that one.  I'm either not writing with it correctly, I haven't loaded the ink properly, or it's broken somehow.

I'd like to review my writing goals.  This is my third consecutive Monday-ish posting.  Hooray for that.  I have not done any editing of Hidden Temple to the Lost Gods however.

I may have a valid reason though.  I have been working diligently on a "short" story called "Figurine in the Box."  It's a Lovecraftian cosmic horror story.  I started it last month and have shown some of it to some coworkers.  I feel obliged to finish it so I have not shown an unfinished piece that will never be completed.

Inspiration for my figurine

I put quotes around "short" because it has been expanding and threatening to become a novella.  This is mostly a function of the fact that I'm enjoying writing it.  It is close to 15,000 words right now and will probably end up just over 16,000.  This is before any pruning and editing though.

There is some value in this story though.  It is in the same genre as Hidden Temple so I'm in the right mood.  I've been writing it in a similar way as I wrote Hidden Temple.  I think I may have hit on a comfortable way to work the long form.  Finally,and second only to the fact that I must finish a story I shared with some one is, I think I have a market for it that will pay fairly well (as far as these things go).

I'm going to try to submit "Figurine in the Box" to Lovecraft eZine.  I will keep my dear readers abreast of how it goes.  Wish me luck.

Princess Evaluation

Yesterday one of my daughters pointed out a video about the Disney Princesses.  As I was watching the video some ideas struck me.  I wrote them down and then had a conversation with my oldest.  I'd like to share my evaluation for two reasons, I find the discussion interesting, and because I think it is something to think about while developing characters in my own writing.

Thanks http://disneyprincess.wikia.com/

Snow White - slipped a roofie, okay I'll give you that.  Rescued by a man, I'll give you that

Cinderella - small feet, saved by a man.  I'll give you that too.

Belle - Stockholm Syndrome - yeah that always bothered me too.  In fact if you really think about it, it was bestiality as well.  Pretty sick that one.

Jasmine - tricked by a cheat?  Was his intention to cheat her?  No.  In fact he fell in love with her and that's what made him do the crazy, stupid, misguided stuff he did.  He was trying to give her what he thought she wanted.  In the end they both grew together, seeing each other's values and the shah, her father started to  become more liberal because of her, not because of him.  Didn't he change the law because it was her better judgement over his own that was right?

Ariel - gave up a special talent.  Yes she did and it was after she had seen Eric.  What you are glossing over is that she wanted to go on land long before she ever saw him.  She felt that was who she was.  There was something more than under the sea and living at home.  She wanted to branch out to the land.  Eric was only the final straw that made her seek desperate measures, but he alone would not have made her do it.  Did Eric drive the ship and kill the evil witch?  Sure, that's what guys like doing, what they feel comfortable doing, big grand physical gestures.  In the end didn't she save Eric from drowning?  Wasn't she the final hero?  Wasn't her father who finally saw her as a grown woman able to make her own choices the reason she could end up with the man SHE chose?

Also, let's get this straight.  There is a difference between "need" and "want."

They missed some.

Sleeping Beauty (Aurora) - slipped a roofie too (though I should point out that it was some crazy, jealous bitch who did the slipping in both these cases, not a man).  She would have been right for the video, but I guess it would have been redundant.

Mulan - I can see why they left her off.  Not only did she compete and beat men, she was even better when she revealed she was a woman.  This does not fit the stereotype at all.  Did she end up with a man?  Was there misogyny in that movie?  She was not actually a princess either.  Maybe that's why she can be so strong and independent.  Maybe Disney is really suggesting we do away with the monarchy?

Pocahontas - Didn't she save John Smith from the axe?  And in the end she married some other dude, a part not even in the movie.

Tiana - I'm not really sure what he message was here anyway.  She rescues him, but he rescues her from her workaholism, maybe.  What is that all about?  I don't know.  There was some bestiality in here too (why a sexy frog that looks like she has a bosom when frogs aren't even mammals - gah).  What I do know is that Naveen is a mess before she straightens him out; they fall in love, are married and happy as frogs; and in the end she gets what she always really wanted.  Was that a prince?  Was that even a man?  No it was a restaurant, and that's what she got.  Did he help her get it: yes.  Did she get a man to boot: yes.  Honestly, it was a good friend (an alligator) who helped finance her restaurant.  The restaurant was what she needed.  Did she need a man; no.  Did she want a man, sure, she'd take one if offered.  By the way, in the end he doesn't seem to be so much a prince as her partner in the business.

Rapunzel - In the Disney version he saves her, she saves him.  I think it's a wash, and a good one too.

Merida - Okay, I know there is some controversy about how they sexed her up, but aside from that does she even end up with a man?  I'm not really asking, just pointing out.

Giselle - You remember her, from Enchanted.  She ended up giving up all princessness to marry a single Dad in New York.  I do believe she rescued him as well.

Another interesting thing to look at would be the villains.  

SW = Evil Queen

C = Evil Step Mother

SB = Maleficent

LM = Evil "Queen"

B&B = Gaston

A = Jafar

P = John Rolfe

M = The Mongols (or the hunny buns)

P&F = Shadowman

T = Mother Gothel

B = NA

F = ?

The ones in red are Girl on Girl action, while the ones in Blue are women fighting men.  I want to note that I don't think this is trying to say all women are evil, but that they are powerful and dangerous.

Let's look to see who is the strong role model in each:

SW = Huntsman?

C = Fairy Godmother

SB = Flora, Fauna & Merryweather

LM = Sebatian?

B&B = NA

A = Genie?

P = Grandmother Willow

M = Mooshu?

P&F = Mom, Mama Odee

T = NA

B = NA?

F = ?

And what years were they?

1930s - 1

SW = 1937

1940s - 0

no Princesses for the 40s:  Pinocchio, Dumbo, Bambi were all 40s

1950s - 2

C = 1950

SB = 1959

1960s, 1970s - 0

nothin' (Disney low point)

1980s - 1

LM = 1989

1990s - 4

B&B = 1991

A = 1992

P = 1995

M = 1998

Double Aughts - 1

P&F = 2009

Tens - 3 so far

T = 2010

B = 2012

F = 2014

My daughter suggested that the older, more stereotyped ones should be revamped.  I don't see why they need to revamp anything.  Those movies are historical.  If they want to go forward with new and enlightened princesses and princes that's cool.  I think rather than revamp they should retire.  Have you ever heard of the movie, "Song of the South?"  It was a Disney live and animated movie, but it was racist so they don't show it anymore.  It's out of circulation.  They'll never take Snow White out of circulation because it was the first ever, but they can take Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty etc out if they're willing to lose the revenue in the name of progressive thinking.

My daughter also pointed out the very weak characterization in the earlier films.  I thought it was a good point about the characterization.  What was the name of the prince in Snow White; Cinderella; Sleeping Beauty?  Wasn't it Charming in all of them?  If not, then I don't know.

My bottom line is not that Disney is without faults; but that you can't just lump everything as misogyny or an attempt to subjugate women.  Women may WANT to get rescued.  Women may WANT a man.  Neither of these precludes women doing some rescuing of their own, choosing their man, being strong or being themselves.

In fact, I want a woman who is strong, herself and capable of rescuing me when I need it.  I also want a woman who would choose me, can be tender and can let me rescue her once in a while.  Luckily I got one and it makes me one of the happiest people I know, man or woman.

On Flowers of Mundelein I'm running a poll on which princess you like best.  Go there and vote on that and come back here.

Official Writing Day!

I do declare, ahem, I mean I make the following declaration:  Mondays will now officially be Writing Day.

I had been trying to write daily and that is great, but sometimes I don't get a chance and I fall behind, and I get discouraged.  It's not so much that I don't have ideas or stories to write; I'm working on three things right now including a novel.  It's just that I know the way I work and once I get stated I'm going to work until I finish or something external stops me.  I know once I sit down to write I'm going to be locked in.

Alternately, I can't just sit and write for fifteen minutes at a pop, or thirty or forty five.  For the most part anything I write is going to take me the better part of an hour at least.  I get in the zone, and to do that takes time, but as I said above, once I'm there the time just flies by.

Terry Pratchett, Robert Heinlein and Ray Bradbury all extol the virtues of writing everyday.  I can't argue with that, but I think at this moment in time the best thing for me will be to make one specific day a week my big writing day.

This concept has worked very well for me with the library.  Wednesday is Library Day at our house.  I get books and return books on Wednesday.  It's been that way for years and it keeps everything in check.

I think this could work for me with writing.  I think I would be more comfortable knowing that I'm going to spend three hours of so on one day.

I'll take Wednesday as an Auxiliary Writing Day.  I can't take every Wednesday because I do Scouting stuff on some Wednesdays in the month.

This is day one of this experiment.  Let's see how it works.

On another note, I've fallen behind in my writing goal for this year already.  My goal is to get Hidden Temple to the Lost Gods (my 2013 NaNo) published.

My first step was to finish fleshing out the book itself.  I planned to go back and complete all those areas where I left a note to add details and such.  I was planning on doing this in January and February.

This would have prepared me to be ready to participate in NaNoEdMo (National Novel Editing Month).  This program is to edit your completed novel for 50 hours in March.  Now, filling in those parts is going to have to be part of my 50 hours.

How is this 50 hours going to work with Writing Day?  I'm still going to keep Writing Day going, and do actual writing production on that day.  I will also make sure I post on Mondays.  There are 5 Mondays in March (dang) so that leaves me 26 days.  If I edit 2 hours a day then I can make it.

I think I'm also going to count the new material I create for the novel in my Writing Day, which will ease things up a bit.

I'll keep you informed.  You will see something no later than next Monday, if not sooner.

Happy Manly Valentine's Day

I love the smell of
romance in the morning

You smell that?  You smell that?  That smell...

It's V-Day my friends.

What you do not smell is Valentine's Day; it's tasteless, odorless, and one of the deadliest holidays known to man.

I've spent the last few years
building up an immunity to V-Day

I noticed yesterday that St. Valentine's Day is supposed to be romantic, about the love between two people, but it's become the flowers and chocolate and maybe diamonds holiday.  I think it is being used as a get out of trouble (or as Mrs. Prop calls it, the dog house) day.

But I ask you, doesn't it take two to tango (which in my opinion is NOT a romantic or sexy dance)?

The way to a man's heart is
pizza

I think my wife is the greatest and I think she does want to make it romantic for me too.  She suggested getting a pizza, a Chicago Style Pizza (that's right, all caps).  This to me is a very romantic food (see illustration from Lou Malnati's).

She suggested we get some wine, and while we did drink a bottle of wine at dinners when we were dating, I'm thinking I'm going to surprise her with Long Island Ice Tea.  That was the the drink she use to build up the courage to ask me out (that's right, she asked me ('cuz I'm to thick headed - oh never mind)).

She said we could just spend a romantic evening snuggling with a movie.

Okay, alarm bells, we have to tread very carefully here.  There are many dangers.

First of all, NO Notebook, absolutely, just no.  Hey girl, NO Ryan frickin' Gosling.  Okay, James Garner is cool; I can dig they die in each others' arms and he moves heaven and earth to be with her; through war, angry parents, rebuilding a house, climbing a ferris wheel (invented in Chicago, I must add); yeah, all manly.  I like the movie, I do, but I don't need to see it every single weekend.

I've talked about what movies are okay for men to cry at, but what about romantic movies that are cool for guys, for men?

I've got some candidates.  I know you will be surprised by some and disagree with a few, but some may just be viable options when your lady wants to snuggle.  In no particular order (not really, I've saved my personal choice for tonight until last, but otherwise there is no order, mostly):

• The Sound of Music
• Okay, this is a musical, but remember it must be romantic for both.  In this movie an older man takes in a young nun and in the end he marries her (plus one on the manly scale for getting a young beauty with the bonus points for her being a frickin' nun).  
• My grandparents had a music box with "Edelweiss" on it.  I would play it when I had to stay overnight there when I was a kid
• Who wouldn't want to be a father with the power to just whistle and your kids (including your DAUGHTERS) come running and get in line.  
• Extra, extra bonus points for telling the Nazis where to shove it.
• Mrs. Prop hates the song, but how DO you solve a problem like Maria?
• Moonstruck

  

  "Where are you taking me?"
  "To the bed!"

• Nick Cage at his absolutely angsty best, he lost his friggin hand for Crissake
• Cher looks like Mrs. Prop in this movie
• La bella luna!  It's a full moon tonight (really, 14 Feb 2014 is a full moon) - "That moon.  That's Cosmo's moon." - "The moon brings the woman to the man."
• John Mahoney was born in England, earned his US citizenship in the US Army and is a Chicago guy
• Love those eggs fried in the bread

• Say Anything
• Mrs. Prop likes John Cusack (a Chicago guy)
• Kickboxing
• Insane romantic gesture, stick a boombox in the air with Peter Gabriel (Mrs. Prop says that song is about my eyes)
• 80's teen movie (I could put 16 Candles, Can't Buy Me Love (I very often do the African Anteater Dance at weddings) and Pretty in Pink and make it a marathon)
• John Mahoney again
• The Incredibles
• I wanted to throw an animated movie in here and this is my favorite Pixar movie
• Are we not, all, Mr. Incredible?
• His waist measurement ends up the same as mine
• It came out on my birthday while I was in Afghanistan
• Elastigirl, nudge nudge (I'm not saying the cartoon gives any visual indication of that, but I have a very vivid imagination)
• Giant robots!
• Samuel L. Jackson ("Where is my super suit?" love it!)
• Casablanca
• If ugly old Boggie can get the girl we all have a chance
• Sticking it to the Nazis again ("I hate Illinois Nazis" (I know, wrong movie, how about, "Nazis?  I hate these guys." (okay, okay, but Harrison Ford is a Chicago guy))
• I love Ingrid Bergman (especially those eyebrows and that accent)

Now, as promised, the best for last:

Ta ta ta ta ta ta ta ta ta 

BOO!  Boo!

No wait, that's not right, it just can't be...

• Princess Bride

  

  Since the invention
  of the kiss...

• ("See I told you."  "Yes, you're very smart, shut up.")
• Where do I start?  Oh yeah, the theme song to Princess Bride was the first song at our wedding
• How will I say I love you?  "As you wish?"  No, by not saying all the words along with the movie
• This is a kissing movie, but it has fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles
• The kid is wearing a Bears jersey (Walter friggin Sweetness Payton!!!)
• I had the following ingraved in Mrs. Prop's wedding ring, "Even death cannot stop true love"
• Romance by pirates is good
• Coming back from the dead is even more impressive than climbing a Ferris wheel, Ryan Gosling

I hope you never fall victim to one of the classic blunders, the first is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well known is this: never get involved in a romance when a chick-flick is on the line, aha ha ha ha ha ha ha

OUFFF

Have a happy St. Valentine's Day
As you wish