Category Archives: novel

AeroQuest 4… Canto 135

Canto 135 – Applying Weed Killer

With Gyro driving, a rather unnerving prospect for those riding with him, the first pink Cadillacko swooped down on the planet Cornucopea out of the clouds.  They were supposed to be establishing a base camp on the planet.

Besides Gyro, the Nebulon boy who gave the first Cadillacko its air bubble field and its silly Nebulonin nickname, the grav speeder held Billy Iowa, wearing his cowboy sombrero and leather moccasins, Luigi the Onion Guy, for whom they had no workable space suit, and Mai Ling, scantily dressed in form-fitting battle armor and wearing the ring-sleeve device that could amplify her telekinetic throwing arm.

The second Cadillacko carried Hassan Parker, who had to wear a full space suit instead of being nude like usual, Taffy King and Shu Kwai, all suited and combat ready.

The third grav speeder carried Ged Aero-sensei, Junior Aero, his adopted Nebulon nephew, and Sara Smith, the strongest telepath and healer of the group.

The drop zone looked like a field of flowers undulating in a high wind.  But as they zoomed closer, you could see the large daisy-heads and thistle-heads were all ripping into and damaging the other plants.

“What do we do, Sensei?” Billy radioed through the comm dot on his neck.

“Clear the landing zone.  Weed-killer weapons and mowers!  We have to cut the weeds down to size.”

Gyro, being Gyro, nose-dived the pink-and-white Space Cadillac into the soft dirt of the field of fighting flowers.  It plowed a deep furrow in a semi-circle in the middle of the large open space.   Shu-Kwai landed his gray-and-white Space Cadillac much more gently beside it.

The telekinetics, Shu and Taffy King, leaped out of their vehicle with weapons that were more like chainsaws than the lawnmowers they were supposed to be.  Each had two, one controlled by each hand.  So, four flying blades whirled through the air, slicing and dicing, turning Throckpods into salad.

Mai-ling leaped out with a razor pistol in her hand.  She fired round throwing-star-like objects in groups of five, then whipped the blades through the air sawing thorns neatly off of every violent flower-person she saw.

Hassan manned the spray-gun with the toxic weed-killer in it, spraying withering death upon Throckpods to a range of fifty feet.

Soon an army of violent flowers was reduced to smoking piles of flower-chips and salad-squares.

By the time Ged-sensei and Sara and Junior disembarked from their pink-and-white Cadillac, the battle was already over.

Luigi the Onion Guy came bouncing furiously across the field to confront Ged.

“nO!  Oh, nO!  You muSt nOt spILl, ChloroPhyll!” he shouted in his weird little Onion-guy accent.

“But you wanted help in driving away to evil Throckpods and their master, did you not?”

Luigi just stank out a lot of foul smells that the translator couldn’t begin to translate.  It is well known that bad words are more a matter of disgustingly figurative language that does not translate well to beings who have no reference for flower emotions, flower body parts, flower behavior, or flower-based bad thoughts.

“Luigi is swearing at you, Sensei,” Gyro tried to explain while adjusting the translator’s many translation-equivalents adjustment bars.

“We need to understand him better.  Can anyone read his mind?”

Sara looked at Ged with a sorrowful expression on her face.  “I am beginning to sense some of the stronger emotions coming from plant-minds.  He is upset because to them, all flower-life is sacred, including the Throckpods.  That’s what he wants us to cure about the Throckpods.  Their leader makes them render and kill other plant-life sacrilegiously.”

“Very well, then.  We will set up base-camp in this cleared field and try hard to understand these flower-people better.”

“Yes, we need to study them and do some research,” said Hassan Parker.  “I can get out of this space suit and start research immediately as the rest of you set up the camp.”

“I think I have seen enough of your naked body.  And you really should join us in the physical labor before doing the mental work.”  Shu Kwai was not making suggestions.  He was issuing commands.  “And while we are here, everybody wears protective body coverings.  There are many unknown plant-based dangers here, and we want no one to be at risk.”

So, eight student ninjas, their ninja sensei, and one irate Onion began building a base camp.

Here’s the link to buy the book;

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, satire, science fiction

Writing Myself To Life

Torry2 (640x480)

I have been working on my novel The Baby Werewolf, and I am now in the final phase, working on the climax and crisis point.  And I surprised myself.  The killer monologues to the main characters who have now become his intended next victims.  I have played this out over and over in the twenty-two years I have been writing this book.  Last night, for the first time ever, the hero character laughs in this scene instead of the cringing fear that had always been there before.

How is such a thing possible?  What changed?  I have been writing and rewriting this story since 1996.  But it goes much deeper and darker than that.  This story went on my have-to-write list in 1966 when an older, stronger boy who lived near my home trapped me in a place out-of-sight of others and stripped me, gaining some horrible kind of pleasure by inflicting pain on my private parts.  Recovery from that has taken half a century.  The recovery itself probably explains why I struggled so long to pull this story together in a finished form.

DSCN4681

There are things about my writing life that are undeniable.  First of all, I have to write.  There is really no other choice for me.  My mind will never know rest or peace without being able to spin out the paragraphs and essays and stories that make it possible to know those things.  Nothing is real if I can’t write it out.  Secondly, I am a humorist.  If I can never be funny at all, can never write a joke, then I will descend into madness.  My sense of humor not only shields me and serves as my suit of armor, it heals me when I suffer psychic wounds.  This book is a horror story, but like many of the best horror stories, it relies on humor to drive every scene and knit the plot together.  And it was a breakthrough for me to have the hero character laugh instead of cringe in the critical scene.  It allows me to live again.  And love again.  And the real monster that caused this book to be, is now forgiven.  The world continues to turn.  The picture is now complete.  And soon, the novel will be too.

ts14

Leave a comment

Filed under autobiography, forgiveness, horror writing, humor, insight, inspiration, novel, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life, writing, writing humor

Illustrating in Novel Ways

I have just finished a novel project that I worked on for a year, from Spring of 2016 to Spring of 2017.  And part of my personal project procedure involves using drawings to help me visualize the characters in the story and begin to view them as real people, even when they most certainly aren’t real.  I even have this derfy Mickian idea that Paffoonies (those picture ideas that are inseparably fused to words) are essential to Mickian fiction.  (Mickian fiction= another frighteningly goofy idea that needs to go unexplained.)

Gingerbread Children

The book, Recipes for Gingerbread Children is about an old woman, a German immigrant and Holocaust survivor, who comes to a small Iowa town with a gift for story-telling and a gift for baking things, especially gingerbread cookies.

20160628_200505

Grandma Gretel Stein, seen in the Paffooney on the left, is the main character of the story.  She tells stories, mostly fairy tales, that have lessons about being true and faithful even in the face of great evil.  The fairy in her hand is General Tuffaney Swift, an immortal Storybook fairy who leads the army of the local fairy kingdom called Tellosia.    Gretel believes he is real  Honestly, she gets so into story-telling that her fairy friends seem absolutely real to her.  And who is to say that there aren’t little magical people living in a hidden kingdom among the cornfields in Iowa?  Gretel convinced me that they were real.  She even has a hand in making new fairies by the baking of gingerbread.  She gets a magical recipe from the fairy Erlking, a wise and magical being, and uses it to create living gingerbread boys and gingerbread girls.

C360ggg7

The gingerbread girl on the right is Anneliese, named after Gretel’s own daughter and decorated with frosting, food coloring, and gumdrops by the favorite story listener who constantly listens to Gretel’s stories and helps bake Gretel’s gingerbread, Sherry Cobble.

Sherry is a beautiful young eighth grade girl who reminds Gretel of her long-lost daughter.  Sherry has a twin sister named Shelly and they are identical twins, but Sherry not only looks like Anneliese once did, she acts like her with the same confidence and enthusiasm for life that Anneliese once had before the war.

Sherry and Shelly are both part of the Cobble family, who have a reputation locally as wacky-pants loonies because they believe firmly in being nudists and engaging in nature completely naked while not actually wearing any wacky pants.  I haven’t done any actual pictures of Sherry  in the nude, but if you look carefully at the first picture of her above and see clothing, then you are seeing things that are not there.  Yep, the girl bakes and decorates gingerbread men in the buff, wearing her pale pink birthday suit, even when the weather outside in Iowa makes that nonsensical.

Gingeyhousegg1n

So by now you can probably draw several conclusions about me as both a novelist and an illustrator.  #1, There is definitely something a little bit off about me.  #2, I haven’t said anything yet about this book having dead Nazis and a werewolf in it, even though I rarely talk about this book without throwing those things in somewhere.  #3, Number 2 is actually taken care of in a backhanded way if you are reading this whole list carefully.  #4,  This story is probably about things that really aren’t just gingerbread recipes.  #5, You should congratulate yourself if you read this far in this post.  You have unusual amounts of patience and curiosity, and an extremely high tolerance for levels of goofy that put actual Goofy to shame.

Leave a comment

Filed under goofy thoughts, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, nudes, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life, writing, writing humor

AeroQuest Illustrations in Pen & Ink

I have been drawing these mock-Star-Wars science-fiction-heroes for thirty years. Some of these are that old. Some of them are new this year. All of them illustrate the adventures that started as a science-fiction-role-playing game and became the series of novels called AeroQuest.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,……………………………………………………………………….

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, heroes, illustrations, novel, satire, science fiction

More Illustrating AeroQuest

I am nearing the completion of the rewrite of part two of AeroQuest. Part of that is getting all the illustrations I want to include done. So, here are a few more that I have been working on.

For those who might be wondering, AeroQuest 1 and AeroQuest 2 are comic science fiction, and I have chosen to rewrite them with lots of illustrations since it is a work of fiction that I might’ve done as a graphic novel if only I didn’t have arthritis in my hands.

Leave a comment

Filed under artwork, comic book heroes, humor, illustrations, novel, novel writing, Paffooney, satire, science fiction

Living in a Fictional World

My title for today has at least a double meaning, if not a triple or fourple one.

“Fourple?” you say.

Yes, four plus the color purple. Purple, after all is the dominant color used in the video game “The Legend of Hoodwink“.

And, of course, the video game is not real. It is the virtual reality video game used in the story as the secret land that the orphans and their mother’s friend flee the authorities to live in after the deaths of the Brown family’s parents.

So, I have been living in the world of Glammis, the imaginary game world inside a mainframe supercomputer. I started this story back in the 1980’s, inspired just a little bit by the Disney movie Tron. Of course there are all kinds of more current technological details to employ to make the story more up to date. The story has been reset to 1999. (I don’t write stories set in the 21st Century. I just don’t. Mark Twain never set one in the 20th.) And one of the ways to create the game-world of the story is to draw pictures of it that I can use as illustrations in the book.

Hoodwink and Babbles (the horse-headed Kelpie) are both game characters that play key roles in the story. They transform from game characters following the script to real people fighting for their lives and honor in the course of the story.

A key setting is the candle-castle called Candlemere, for obvious reasons. The wizard, Milt Morgan, lives there, though he is a real person from Iowa living in Texas as a game designer.

These are the three orphans that Milt Morgan has rescued after the car crash. Mortie Brown, Daisy Brown, and Johnny Brown now live in Glammis after the deaths of their parents, Brom and Stacy Brown.

The three orphans are being pursued in the real world by an FBI agent, a relentless tracker and pursuer named Agent Brent Clarke. What the kids don’t know is that Agent Clarke is trying to find them for their grandparents that they don’t realize are still alive. And Clarke is also their uncle, their mother’s older brother.

In the video game, they are pursued by the evil Daniel Quilp, who is in the video game playing the wicked King Murdstone of the Chelsrod’s Spire. He is not a relative. He is secretly the enemy of their parents and the wizard Milt Morgan.

The servant of Murdstone in the game is Errol of the Devylkind. He is more than he appears to be as well. He is another player character who is also very much acquainted with Daisy in the real world, and has a huge crush on her.

But, at present, I haven’t yet reached that part of the story, the latter half of Act One. Instead, I am today establishing setting further by narrating the visit to BrooglieTown, the home of the chocolate dwarves (literally made of chocolate and not a racist faux pas by any means.)

So, in the middle of writing a novel, I am describing the world-building I have been doing… and drawing… while pretty much living in this made-up game world due to the ongoing pandemic and intense heat of Texas in July. It is a better place to be living for now, though it is soon to heat up too as the plot gets churning and the Devylkind, rather hot-blooded fantasy characters, get further involved.

Leave a comment

Filed under novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto (a book review)

29100120

The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto: A Novel
by Mitch Albom (Goodreads Author)

Michael Beyer‘s review

Jul 23, 2017

It was amazing!

This book is a miracle. It makes words into music and fills your imagination with some of the most beautiful guitar music ever played. It introduces you not only to a very convincing portrait of a fictional musician and Rock and Roll icon, but a vast array of very real musicians and show people who agreed to be used as a part of the story, approved the sections about them, and even helped Mitch Albom to compose it. These include notable music makers like Lyle Lovett, Darlene Love, Tony Bennett, Paul Stanley, and Burt Bacharach. The story itself transcends its fictional form, giving us a look at a musical history whose scope goes from the Spanish Civil War of the 1930’s to Woodstock, and on to the present day. It even gives us glimpses into the distant musical past, framing the story with the song Lágrima by the classical guitarist Francisco Tárrega. And all this music the book fills your mind with is actually performed only in your imagination and memory. Albom proves again with this book how his mastery of language makes him an absolute master story-teller.

496531384

And now, here is me trying to make sense out of a reading experience that made my figurative heart grow wings and soar into the clouds in ways brought forth only by the strains of a sweet, classical Spanish guitar.

Stories like this one make a unique music in the mind, and though it is all fiction, occurring silently in the theater of your mind, you hear the music in your heart.  This story elicited the music of Rodrigo’s Adagio throughout, a piece I know intimately.  I myself have never written a musical book the way this fiction book was written.  But I know now that I have to try.  Poetry becomes song lyrics, right?  There is a connection between a good archetypal story about life and love and laughter, and the bittersweet strains of music on a Spanish guitar.

I truly and utterly fell in love with this beautiful book.  Mitch Albom is a genius… for a Detroit Tigers baseball fan.  And I would not risk telling you anything that might spoil such a beautiful story.  All I can say is, don’t read it… listen to it as you would a piece of beautiful music.  Listen to it and love it.

Leave a comment

Filed under book review, Celebration, classical music, humor, music, novel, strange and wonderful ideas about life

Stories with Gingerbread

Yes, this post is a shameless promotion. But this is a good book that not enough people are reading to truly appreciate that fact. When I was a boy in the 1960’s, there really was an old German lady who lived in a small tar-papered house, all ginger-brown in color, which we all called the Gingerbread House. She really did love to give out sweets and cookies and popcorn balls to the kids in our town. And she really did love to talk to people and tell them little stories.

Grandma Gretel Stein

Her name, in real life, was Marie Jacobson. She was, in fact, a survivor of the holocaust. She had a tattoo on her right forearm that I saw only one time. Our parents told us what the tattoo meant. But there were no details ever added to the story. Mrs. Jacobson doted on the local children. She regularly gave me chocolate bars just because I held the door for her after church. But she was apparently unwilling to ever talk about World War II and Germany. We were told never to press for answers. There was, however, a rumor that she lost her family in one of the camps. And I have always been the kind that fills in the details with fiction when the truth is out of reach.

I based the character of Grandma Gretel on Mrs. Jacobson. But the facts about her secret life are, of course, from my imagination, not from the truth about Mrs. Jacobson’s real life.

Marie Jacobson cooked gingerbread cookies. I know because I ate some. But she didn’t talk to fairies or use magic spells in cooking. I know because the fairies from the Hidden Kingdom in Rowan disavowed ever talking to any slow one but me. She wasn’t Jewish, since she went to our Methodist Church. She wasn’t a nudist, either. But neither were my twin cousins who the Cobble Sisters, the nude girls in the story, are fifty percent based on. A lot of details about the kids in my book come from the lives of my students in Texas. The blond nudist twins were in my class in the early eighties. And they were only part-time nudists who talked about it more than lived it.

Miss Sherry Cobble, a happy nudist.

But the story itself is not about nudists, or Nazis, or gingerbread children coming to life through magic. The story is about how telling stories can help us to allay our fears. Telling stories can help us cope with and make meaning out of the most terrible things that have happened to us in life. And it is also a way to connect with the hearts of other people and help them to see us for who we really are. And that was the whole reason for writing this book.

Leave a comment

Filed under autobiography, fairies, gingerbread, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Day After Day

Posting every day keeps the imaginary writing muscles toned and renews my basic energy levels. But it also becomes a chore on certain days. Like today. The weather has got me down with arthritis woes. Typing like this is it not as easy as it should be. And when I have to labor at it to make the paragraphs flow, sometimes I just turn it all into rambling babbling. I spin my mental wheels and get nowhere.

I can use this post to tell you, however, that I have now started a new work-in-progress. I have already pounded out the first four thousand words of The Wizard in His Keep.

This is the final story in the arc of the character Milt Morgan. This story has been gestating in my brain since 1995. Though, if I am honest, it began with fantasies I had back in fifth grade. The main character, Milt Morgan, is half me and half the other Mike from our gang back in Rowan in the 1960’s. Back when Mike and Michael were sometimes good friends and sometimes the brains behind evil plans and terrible tricks. He supplied the devious know-how, and I provided the creative spark that lit the schemes on fire.

But this story is advanced to the computer age.

Milt Morgan is 50% me and 50% my best nemesis, Mike Bridges

In 1996, Milt Morgan was a 34-year-old video game designer living a double life in a high-tech, state-of-the-art computer lab. It is then that he mysteriously kidnaps the three children of his child-hood friend’s sister and takes them away to a magical world that only two people in the entire world have the keys to. Milt is the Wizard. The other Key-Master is Daniel Quilp, the Necromancer. A battle for the soul of the world must take place, and Daisy, Johnny, and Mortie Brown are a part of it.

Anyway, the words are beginning to pile up again. And again I have made something out of nothing.

Johnny Brown in Purple Glammis (the Magical Kingdom)

The book I am talking about in this 3-year-old post is now available on Amazon.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, magic, new projects, novel, novel plans, novel writing, Paffooney

The Haunted Toy Store… Canto 25

Canto 25 – Dealing with the Devil

Stanley was determined to get both hands around Eule Gheist’s stupid neck, and squeeze until he gave up a solution to saving Maria’s life.  He bulled his way into Aunt Philia’s Toy Store.

Before he could shout out the first threat and demand, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the other man standing beside the Owl Man’s check-out counter.

“Hello, Stanley. We’ve been waiting for your return,” said the mysterious stranger with the ice-blue eyes.

“You know I want my daughter back?  You are going to give me a way to go where she is and bring her back home?”

“Oh, no.  Our offer is far more complicated than that.”

“What kind of a place is this?  You trap and kill your customers.”

“You have it all wrong, Mr. Mensch.  We always give our customers exactly what they pay us for.”

“Maria never paid you to kidnap her and put her life at risk.”

“Oh, you are confused about who our customers are.”

“What do you mean?  You never actually sell any of these toys.”

“We have never harmed a customer.  We couldn’t possibly kill them since they are already dead.”

“And you sell them these toys?”  Stan’s arm swept around in a circle indicating the whole collection of dust-covered antique toys.

“We sold Maria to Esperanza for five years’ worth of spirit life.  We don’t sell these toys from the store.”

“Maria is a toy?”

“Basically.  We provide the other side with humans to play with.”

“So, how do I get to where Maria is?”

“You don’t.  No member of the story she is playing in will want you to be a part of it.  You don’t fit the story.”

“So, what’s to prevent me from throwing a fit and wrecking this store?”

“Pick up a toy and destroy it.”

Stanley picked up a wooden rocking horse and slammed it into the floor with the full force of his anger and frustration.  Almost immediately the fractured pieces disappeared and the rocking horse rematerialized on the shelf, even wearing it’s dust covering.

Stan stopped and stared, feeling totally stunned.

“Everything is set in spirit life.  It will still be here even after a nuclear missile from Russia blows Dallas into vapor.”

“I don’t… I mean… ah…”

“I know you are stressed about your family’s situation.  We have a possible solution to offer for a price.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can guarantee Maria’s survival.  And I can cure Bonita’s cancer.”

“How… how do you know about that?”

The Owl Man grinned.  “This is the store’s owner.  Mr. Mephisto.”

“The dark man from the Shandra and Mark story?”

“Exactly,” said the gimlet-eyed man.

“So, I’m making a deal with the Devil.  What will it cost me?  My soul?”

“We want you to become the new manager of the Toy Store.  You are a very resourceful man.  And you have a good heart.”

“And I am due to return to my owl form,” said Eule.

“If I refuse?”

“You have to make the choice, of course.  But the job has perks.  The spirit life will make you immortal.  And Maria and Bonita are both saved.”

“And if I refuse to accept the job, what happens?”

“You trust to luck for the outcome you seek.”

Stanley could do nothing but stand there and try desperately to think.

Leave a comment

Filed under ghost stories, horror writing, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney