Guest Post in South Africa!

I’ve done a guest post and traveled all the way to South Africa. A place I’ve always wanted to visit. My good friend Sandra Valente, @BookWormSans , has a great site for anyone interested in great books to read and to read very interesting guest post… Sandra asked me to write about anything I like and I’ve chosen the one subject I can’t stop talking about. How much I love Readers! My favorite people!

I think you’ll enjoy the post and I know you’ll enjoy meeting Sandra at her great site. Please join me and comment– even if it’s about me making a guest post when I hardly post at my own site. I hope that changes soon!

Guest Post at SSBookFanatics http://ssbookfanatics.blogspot.com/2012/05/guest-post-dannie-c-hill.html?spref=tw

 

Update of Joshua’s battle- Indie Author’s Unite for Joshua

The Joshua tree

The Joshua tree

Here is the latest update from Indie author Maxwell Cynn on the struggle his son Joshua is going through as he fights a terrible disease. Joshua is winning but still has some major struggles to come.

The fund raiser for Joshua ends this month and we’re almost at the goal set. Read the following letter Max sent out and put Joshua in your thoughts! Everything you do helps Joshua’s mind, body and spirit! Feel the love. TELL YOUR FRIENDS!

Please visit http://www.indiegogo.com/indiesuniteforjoshua and help if you can. You are loved.

Keep Tweeting, Posting, Praying and tell all your friends to lend a hand for Joshua!

Don’t forget to use the Twitter tag line #IndiesUnite4Joshua

From Maxwell Cynn:

Joshua is nearly half-way through the main course of his chemotherapy treatment. He survived the initial, intensive assault against the cancer, known as “Induction.” It stopped his heart, caused his kidneys to fail, and made his hair fall out, but he survived. And he’s been kicking leukemia’s ass. 

The last couple of months he’s been in “Consolidation.” The chemo has continued, but he’s back home – going to the clinic for treatment several days a week. My wife and I have gone back to work. She works nights, I work days so someone is always with Joshua. She takes him to treatment, I cook us dinner or take him to his favorite burger joint (I even let him drive, if he’s up to it). 

Life has taken on a type of new normal, bizarre in a way, but constant. My wife learned to hook Joshua up to an IV at home – he had an infection that required intravenous antibiotics twice a day – and I’ve learned more about cancer, chemotherapy, and medical procedures than I ever wanted to know. But I’ve also met a lot of really amazing people, both online and off. 

Indies Unite for Joshua has supplied Joshua, and our family with much more than monetary resources – though a lot of doctors wouldn’t be getting paid right now if it wasn’t for the generous donations received so far. Indies Unite for Joshua has offered us love, support, and much needed encouragement. 

In May Joshua will return to the hospital for the next, more intense phase of treatment – eight to ten weeks of high dose chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Some time in August, if there are no complications, he will again be home and we will try to direct our lives back into some type of normal. Joshua will have three more years of treatment, and five years of monitoring against the return of leukemia, but he will be able to return to school in the winter and graduate in the spring. 

The many blog posts about Joshua’s struggle, and even passing tweets, have meant the world to me. 140 characters can turn a hard day into a bearable one, or drive away the darkness of depression with a few words of encouragement. The #IndiesUnite4Joshua stream on Twitter has kept me going. Now some of my friends are posting videos! I have no words. You can not imagine what a morale boost a song, a few words, or an awesome puppet can be. All that love will hold us up long after the IndieGoGo campaign ends May 30th.

Please, keep tweeting, posting, and sharing. And enjoy the vids!

xoxox

max

Stalking The Wind

Weaverbird nest

Don’t you just hate when a writer starts off by saying: Sorry I haven’t been writing lately.

I’ve been hiding in my cave- little writing room—working on my next great novel. I have completed the first draft and three rewrites. My muse held me hostage because I really like this story. This particular manuscript has taken almost a year, off and on, to complete. Perhaps I’ll write about it one day.

While in self-imposed exile I sometimes take long walks with my dog in search of the wind and to let my eyes relax viewing nature as a bystander.

I walk where I have almost no human contact. Plenty of cows, birds, lizards, snakes and the occasional squirrel cross my path. Always carrying a bamboo walking stick I insure the wildlife stays at a reasonable distant. My dog has a bad habit of chasing everything to me so I can get a closer look.

Dog listening to the wind

Dog listening to the wind

My favorite spot is only a short distance from the house but it is like walking into a forgotten wilderness. Tall bushes obscure my view and I hear things scurrying about. Male Weaverbirds build elaborate nest to attract just the right mate. Their homes hang from trees over a small pond and they build right next to one another. I often wonder what it is the female sees that brings her to one or the other.

A few yards past the squabbling birds is the place I seek. It draws the wind and I can feel the currents carry my worries away upon wings of strong gust. In front of me is a vast open area where rice is grown. Fields of every shade of green undulate like the incessant waves of the ocean. My eye relax, my ears enjoy and my mind empties of worry—if but for a moment. I hope that you’ve had the chance to stand in silence and hear the mood of the wind as it pours from the vastness of an open expanse.

Rice- very shade of green

Rice- every shade of green

The currents caress me and my vision is a cloud of green as I visit foreign worlds that are only a daydream away.

Others have seen my little spot of peace and I can tell they are unimpressed. But they don’t see as I do. It is my berth.

When my muse has decided it is time to return she fills my mind with the story I’ve been working and forces my feet to turn away. I tip my hat to the myriad of birdlife and even to the cows as I pass on my way home.

My short journey is complete.

Casanova Of Thailand

Neighbor's child

Neighbor's child

Preparing jackfruit and mangos

Preparing jackfruit and mangos

I’m sitting in my room in Bangkok, wishing I was at the farm, trying to come up with a blog post. It’s usually so easy for me to write a little tale of Thailand but—watch out, more excuses—with the heat and the fact that I’m writing a new manuscript that is consuming my thoughts; well, it’s not easy.

Many times my muse—I think of her as a beautiful maiden that demands attention—won’t release me to do other things. Oh, I get up and wander around for a few minutes but then it’s back to the keyboard. Will this be the break-through novel? I know I’m a good writer—I didn’t say great—but without the support of beta readers, editors and marketing skills I wonder.

Yes, I’m on my writer’s rollercoaster and I happened to be on the downhill slope of late. But then I think about my life in Thailand.

Double headed pineapple

Double headed pineapple

In the past I would ride my motorcycle and try to get lost by taking whatever turn I come to. No matter where you go in Thailand you’re certain to end up in a small farming village. Some of the people have never been close to a white man—especially one who can talk to them a little.

I always look for a Sala- shaded platform- where the older women congregate, to announce myself. One thing I’ve learned is one never approaches the pretty young girls first. They are usually unmarried and it is impolite to converse with them without permission or chaperon.

When the older ladies and men who come around realize that I speak some form of ‘funny’ Thai, then the fun begins. Children come out of hiding and are allowed to test their skills on the crazy foreigner. The truth is in the big cities many Thais think of foreigners as walking banks with money that may fall from their pockets at any time. But in the country I’ve rarely been asked for anything. I often buy the kids a treat just to watch their faces light up.

I have to be careful not to admire thing too much because it will be offered to me—for free. Luckily I can’t carry much on my bike.

It is therapeutic for me to be the center of attention where people only want to learn more about me and my ways. Many of my family back in North Carolina were farmers and the Thai men and women enjoy hearing about farm life in the States. I’m not sure they believe me when I tell them the number of animals and land that my family farmed at one time. I’m sure they’re still talking about the impossibility of it. The people offer me food and drink— many times beer and Thai whiskey and I politely refuse because I’m on a motorcycle and my skills do not allow riding under the influence. I do eat with them. Perhaps another post of some of the things they eat, but it’s mostly fruits.

Once I am known as a good person the maidens are allowed to come near. I think there is a hope I might pick one for a wife—even though I have told the older people I am happily married. Two wives—more fodder for another post—is not unheard of. Thai women, even at a young age, exude an exotic charm that still makes my heart beat faster. And the way they glide along when they walk, oh my. I sure it has to do with the flip-flops they wear.

Now, I’m not a DOM—dirty old man, but I am a man. My wife says I am fresh bait to a school of fish—me fresh bait? That’s probably one of the big reasons I like it here. Even as an old man I’m kind of special. Back in the States I’m just another in the horde of old folks, lol. And foreign women are viewed as special too.

It really is an ego boost in the depressed life of a writer. I hope you enjoyed another short walk with a writer in Thailand.

Just Too Hot to Tango

Talking to my Bananas

Talking to my Bananas

Storks Enjoying The Heat

Storks Enjoying The Heat

I know I should be posting more. I’ve read the rule book but whoever wrote it didn’t live in Thailand.

Don’t get me wrong; I love living here—I mean who wouldn’t want to live in an exotic place where people are friendly, smile all the time and think you are special.

But when it is Spring time in the States and the rest of the Northern Hemisphere it is boiling in Thailand. I’m in Bangkok for a few weeks to take care of some automotive business—getting tags for my two motorcycles and work on some flood repairs.

I go out in the very early morning to watch the birds and lizards preparing for the heat, take a few pictures and then rush back to the house before the world remembers that it’s supposed to be hot. The heat has come a bit early this year and I hope that’s not a precursor to more flooding. The truth is it is extremely dry now but most anyone I talk to is worried about the floods. I’m sure it’s a form of PTSD. People in this area have lived all their lives here only seeing floods on TV and then the waters came in and wouldn’t leave. Many still blame the Mayor of Bangkok and his minion for making a lake of our area. Enough about the flood of 2011.

We were enjoying life on the farm getting ready to sell our tapioca crop and then the price dropped. Since tapioca can grow for years we are waiting for the price to rise. Some of our neighbors think it’s crazy not to grab what one can no matter the price. That’s the saga of poor farmers—they have to sell no matter the price because they need the money.

During the day I see very few people because it’s around 96 degrees inside the house and we only turn our A/C on later in the afternoon. It’s so hot I can’t turn my computer on for fear of damage. That’s my excuse for not writing a post or attending to my email—you really wouldn’t believe how many unread emails I have.

To be honest I think it’s more than that. I am slowly becoming Thai. We endure the heat and let it soak into our bones and it prepares us for life. This intolerable heat only last for a month or two and then the rains coming to allow us to carry on.

I’ve even stopped sweating like a foreigner. I would draw a crowd when I went outside to work in the garden or weld a fence or just move around. I would sweat like I had just taken a bath and forgot to dry off. This was amusing to the Thai’s. I would tell them I was okay and not to worry because all white folks sweat like this. They took me at my word because there weren’t any other foreigners to compare with.

Pineapple flower at the farm.

Now I do perspire a little more than the average Thai but not in buckets and my neighbors don’t come around just to laugh at me—well they do but usually for other reasons—I meant to say: laugh with me.

I do want to post more but when I’m writing a novel or even a short story about rednecks in space I have to watch the thermometer. I’ve been thinking about writing long- hand and that’s probably what I’ll do. I’ve enjoyed my embarrassment of posting my little story about space flight and I want to thank all of you who read it and especially you who commented! I will continue to give you a taste of my different styles of writing and promise to make you cry at least once and laugh or at least smile several times.

Rednecks Are Rocket Scientists Too- Light Speed and Beyond

A New Mode of Space Travel

I’ve just discovered I don’t know much about WordPress—who knew? There’s will come a day when I’m smarter than a webpage. On with the show.

Prologue: Not many short stories have a prologue but I felt this one needed a bit of information. I wrote this silly story trying to help reason out a new way of space travel for a manuscript I’m ¾ through writing. My space flight theory is based on an actual scientific theory (not dealing with space flight). You may laugh later at my style of hashing things out—but it works for me, sometimes.

All of the Sci-fi I’ve read lately has only one theory about how ships will move about in the future: manufactured star-gates (Wormholes). The reality is wormholes are actual proven space phenomenon. And some scientists even believe they may be gates to another time plane. I must correct myself here: As I said, wormhole are manufactured gates. Their theory is based on blackholes. The theory is by using an exotic substance—anti-matter—these gates can be stabilized. Sounds great but science fiction has always been experimental and leading edge—until wormholes came along. I don’t believe wormholes will ever be factual or actual. I also believe that light speed travel is something that is possible. Many disagree. I think it’s just a shame that sci-fi writers have fallen into ‘the norm’.

If blackholes are a rip in the fabric of time, nothing living or inanimate could survive as we know it when traveling into it. Blackholes suck light from the universe, crush planets… anything that comes near is reduced to a tiny speck of mass that cannot escape. This is the phenomenon wormholes are based on.

Also, there are some who believe that an object cannot go faster than the speed of light (Bad stuff would happen). It was also said we couldn’t go faster than the speed of sound a few years ago. “WARP factor 3, Mr. Scott!”

And so we come to a real honest scientific theory about capturing Solar light (protons) in the form of light bars. Solid objects that have an unknown amount of power within them. Here’s my idea of how we could use these rod of light(protons).

**** Also. I hope I don’t offend anyone with my southern male humor. I figured this would be a kind of dry subject so I throwed a little Redneck at it.**** This short story is about 3000 words, so sit back, relax and enjoy.

 

 

 

 

INTO THE WILD BLACK YONDER

Major Vickers stormed, yes stormed, down the lighted corridor. Light sensors barely keeping pace as they turned lights on just beyond and off just behind the Major’s rapid pace.

“Damn that Barns. He’s going to have my head put on a platter when the Academy sees these expenditures. Well, he’ll be going down with me.”

Vickers was headed for the most remote lab in Canada. The electro-pulse Glide Tube had only been installed the week before to the remote site and Major Vickers was demanding 100% out of it.

Glide Tubes were a recent invention of the team Dr. Barlow Barns headed. They could propel an individual or a compartmented passenger and supply craft at up to .72 mach (450 knots per hour). There were no acceleration or deceleration issues. They used a minimum output power and actually produced more power than expended. The produced power came from the efforts of individuals walking. It wasn’t much but it still produced more power than was required to operate the system. Dr. Barns was a hero with the physical fitness people as well as the government and private business committees.

He was one hero that was about to get his ass chewed out! Major Vickers pushed the lab door open before it could react electronically— he loved the surprise it caused when he slammed into a door and caught individuals with their pants down. Well, that only actually happened once and the President was none too happy. Another reason the Major was still a major.

Major Vickers stepped in, opened his mouth and was blown back through the doors by an explosive blast of air and light.

Two hours later Vickers slowly opened his eyes. Dr. Barlow Barns held a medicated cool patch against Vickers forehead.

“Thank goodness you’re coming around. Your vital signs are all good. These kinds of events aren’t powerful but if you’re not holding on to something it can be quite a surprise!”

Major Vickers sat up, removed the cool patch from his forehead and looked around. The room was austere and every item looked to be secured to a surface. “Barns. What the hell are you doing up here? You not authorized to work in weapon development.”

“My dear Major. I am about to turn the world on its head. I am working on space travel, not weapons.”

“Do you have any idea how much money you’ve spent in the past six months—let alone the past five years?”

“Money is no object, dear Henry.”

“No object to you but I’m the one that has to answer for these expenditures! I’ve just come from a world-class ass chewing…”

“Come, Henry. You’re ass still looks delicious,” Barlow said with a knowing smile. “Come over here and sit next to Barney and let me tell you how you are going to be famous—and rich!”

All the anger that had been building up in Major Vickers blew away in one breath. “Rich…? Did you say rich, Barney?”

Barlow knew it was all over for Henry. His one dream in life was to become rich and now it was about to happen if Vickers kept his trap shut.

As Vickers sat down on the hard bench seat Barlow said, “Henry this is the discovery of the… millennium. But it will require remaining extremely clandestine.”

“But, Barney. What…”

“Are you in or out, Henry?”

“I’m in, of course, but what about these expenditures?”

“You must make the problem go away, Henry. Now,” Barlow held up his hand for quiet. “Let me explain what it is I’ve found and what we’re going to do with it! Come over here and relax. Oh, Sasha. Please join us and bring some cherries and vodka. I’d like a cup of coffee, too.” Barlow led Vickers to a comfortable cushioned seat at a metal conference table and then sat beside him while they both waited for Dr. Sasha Vedonavich to bring refreshments.

Dr. Barlow Barns has insisted that Sasha have her own small lab to work in alone and Major Vickers had a fit until he got a look at her. As Vickers later finally found word to describe Dr. Vednoavich, he labeled her, “Instant Erection”.

Sasha was blonde haired, blue eyed, crisp, clear, sunny complexion and had charisma like the Piped Piper of men. Barney liked to tease her by saying, “Sasha, you have a perfect body except for the allergic reaction you get when wearing a bra.”

Sasha walked in carrying a tray filled with refreshments. Before she could close the door to the service area both Barney and Henry hit the bottom of the metal table with their fists, making a metallic thunk. Sasha turned around with a slight blush and smiled. “Must you two boys do that every time I come in the room?”

Major Vickers said with a big grin, “Do what, Sasha?”     

   She placed the tray on the table and served both men coffee, vodka and a plate of cherries. She felt their eyes on her and it didn’t bother her. She knew these two also respected her intelligence. She came around the table, kissing each man on the lips and then walked towards her lab. “I’ll be listening from my lab and add whatever you like Dr. Barns. And boys. You can close your mouths now.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve invented a totally new space propulsion system? And the propulsion is… light?”

“Henry. We’ve been tell you this for the past three hours.”

“Until you or Sasha can explain it in ENGLISH- simple English, we’re not leaving this place and I won’t help you with the appropriations needed to continue.”

Barlow rubbed his hand down his face. “Damn, Henry. Aren’t the words It-will-make-you-rich enough?”

“I can’t go to the Academy babbling like an idiot about faster than light speed using a light rod and then not have any idea how it works.”

“Sasha. I can’t make it any simpler. You’re turn to try.”

“I’ll be right out.”

Sasha sat and told Henry to finish his vodka. He gulped it down. Sasha sat behind Henry and began to massage his neck. “I’m going to explain this process and then we are going to show you how it works. This is the quick, simple version of solar light propulsion theory. Are you ready, Henry?”

“Yes. That feels really good. Simple, I need simple.”

“Pay attention, darling.

“Many years ago at the beginning of the 21st century Australian scientists came up with a theory about capturing light- protons. They believed that if you could make two mirrors one molecule thick and space them one solar light proton apart then it would be possible to stack light protons on top of one another and they would bond into a stick of light.”

Major Vickers asked, “Did it work?” He tried to turn to look at Sasha but she laughed and held his head so he couldn’t turn to look at her.

“Years later one group actually did get a string of protons to adhere, but it was too unstable to use for research. The energy this tiny string gave off was incredible, but everyone soon gave up on it because it was so unstable and dangerous.”

“That is until our Sasha started looking into this theory three years ago,” said Barlow.

“Thank you, Barney but it was the entire team that found the key.” She rubbed Henry’s neck and said, “Henry, you contributed the most.”

“How could I help when I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Sasha laughed and said, “It was your simulated erection that did it.”

He turned his head and Sasha kissed his cheek and turned his head back around. “I discovered a way to layer diamonds at the molecular level and then layer them onto a compound we invented a few years ago called Ceramatium. The Ceramatium can withstand almost any amount of heat and pressure and whatever it’s bonded with will take on these properties.”

Henry said, “Okay. I’m kind of understanding this part but it sounds like we’re a long way from space travel.”

“Here we go, sweetie. Pay attention. I was able to construct large solar light rods that were completely stable until protons are shaved off—physically. We discovered this when we tried to attach connectors. Things got ugly fast and several members of the team were killed.”

“Killed…? I never saw a report of any bodies.”

Barlow said, “Henry. There were no bodies or anything else left. That’s why we moved to northern Canada. This was too important a discovery to create an incident. We all agreed not to tell you.”

“Okay, but let Sasha tell me—she makes it sound better.”

Sasha laughed; running her fingers through Henry’s thinning hair. He sighed.

“On with the quick tour,” said, Sasha. “I first discovered the light rod construction and when our team was brought in things went very quickly. We are now able to produce any size light rods we like. Length is only blocked by the length of the Ceramamond—our new compound. What we’ve found is that after approximately a meter the benefits do not grow. We are now experimenting with stacking and bundling these rods.”

Dr. Barns interjected, “Henry. These rods are the perfect power-propulsion source for space… They’re still a bit unstable for use on earth. Perhaps one day…”

“Barney’s right, Henry. Until then. What we’ve done is manufacture a triangular gyroscope similar to the Inertial Reference Systems used in very old aircraft for navigation. It’s a gyro that has no moving parts and uses a laser and mirrors—that’s the key.”

Barns said, “Before we get to the good stuff. I want you to know that this is Sasha’s work and idea. The team only help refine it.”

“You’re too sweet, Barney. Rather than produce power I found that this gyro produces movement—very fast movement. It took me over a year to find that it wasn’t just exploding or disappearing into thin air. I had to make them incredibly tiny. The first couple destroyed my lab.

“Then with the teams help we found by slightly changing the angle of the mirrors we could control the speed.”

“So how fast will this thing go?”

“We don’t know. At .999 WARP it disappears. But if we maintain the speed at around .910 WARP it just keeps going and going. Our last trial was our first return. We used old- very old, Navtech pieces we built from museum blueprints to guide it.

“One thing I am sure of is that it goes beyond the speed of light, but something happens to our equipment, I think.”

She wrapped her arms around Henry’s chest and kissed his neck. It surprised Henry so much he jumped and his left knee hit the bottom of the metal table with a thunk. Sasha laughed and said, “You’re so funny.”

Henry asked, “How was it I helped make this thing?”

Barney slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Hell, Henry, if it hadn’t been for you we would still be blowing stuff up and not understanding what we can do with the Light-Gyro.

“Here’s the deal. Sasha made this incredible device but couldn’t get it to start without causing it to go 100% and destroy everything around it, no matter how small she built it.”

Sasha said, “I found the way to start the rod to breakdown but not how to stop it. I used a blade valve made of Ceramamond to shave off a very thin slice of rod and the reaction started and even shutting the valve wouldn’t turn it off—until…”

“Let me tell this part, Sasha.”

“Okay, Henry, you know that Sasha is beautiful and smart and every man on this project would like to… well, you know. Anyhow, she had set the gyro up in the main arena—outside so the team could witness the problem she was having.

“Sasha was behind the curtain with the gyro and a table was set up on a platform to view her presentation. Sasha had set the Ceramamond blade against the light rod but not cutting in. She didn’t want everyone to wait while she worked with her back to us.” Barns gave Henry a knowing wink.

“So, when Sasha was ready I pulled the curtain. She had to wear a tight fitting outfit to keep anything from moving into the field of the gyro… Well, you can guess what the first reaction of the male scientists was… right?”

Henry was imagining Sasha in tight fitting clothes and instinct took over. His fist hit the bottom of the table with a thunk.

“That’s right! Every man there had the same reaction and the vibration setup by them hitting the bottom of the table was just enough to cause the blade to move a few microns into the light rod and started a weak flow of power. The blade continued to vibrate around the gyro light rod. The vibration also caused a minor shift in the mirror array and it released part of the light stream into a protective plate of Ceramatium. The entire gyro assembly lifted off the platform, breaking all the anchor bolts and just hovered, hooked to anchor chains. You did it, Henry!”

Sasha spun Henry around and put a I-want-to-do-you kiss on him. She even gave his… crotch a rub. “Now, darling. Let’s go outside and see what you have done for us… and perhaps later I will do something for you.”

“What…? What…?” Henry said.

“What?” Said Sasha.

“What are you going to do for me?”

“Well, Henry, I do believe I’m going to screw you silly! But only after you see this.”

“Hey, I don’t need to see shit! I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll cover your… I’ll watch your back and keep the Academy away until it’s time to get rich!”

“No, honey. You’ve got to see this!”

“Crap. Okay, but make it quick.”

As they moved out to arena Dr. Barns moved over to Sasha and asked, “Are you really going to… you know…? Do Henry?”

“I need to celebrate and I do like Henry, so yes, I am.”

“What about me?”

“I’ll tell you what, Barney. Let me ask Sarah—your wife—and then I’ll get back to you.”

“On second thought—just forget I ever said that, please.”

Sasha pulled Henry forward taking his arm and then Dr. Barns arm and they walked together to the arena.

Henry sat a large table all alone while Barns and Sasha set up an odd looking lozenge shaped object about twenty yards away. It was polished to a high dark shine, about five feet in length and sat in a cradle made to fit its shape.

Dr. Barns took a seat beside Major Vickers and Vickers leaned over and whispered, “Is she going to put the tight suit on?”

“No… Yea, I know. I hate it too, but she doesn’t need it anymore. And by the way, Henry. If she’s telling the truth about what she’s going to do to you you’ll be a major hero around here.”

“Do you really think I would kiss and tell?” Barns stared straight at Henry until Henry said, “Hell, yes I will!” They both laughed.

Barns said, “One more thing. Put the sunglasses on and use the seatbelt.”

“When you two kids are through gossiping.” Sasha waited until they settle down and looked her in the eye. It took a few minutes but she was patient.

“Henry. If you’ll press the button on the remote in front of you. Once you do that just advance the lever to about half way through the travel. And watch carefully.”

Henry looked at the small device sitting on the table in front of him. He reached out pulled it to him and pressed the red button. He felt a slight vibration in his seat and watched the large capsule lifted off the cradle and hover.

Sasha had sat down beside him, put on a pair of sunglasses and strapped in to her seat. “Go ahead, Henry. And watch closely.”

Henry Vickers advanced the lever as he carefully watched the capsule. There was a great flash of light, a blast of wind and the capsule raced straight up until it was out of sight.

He looked at Dr. Barns and Barns said, “That thing weights 5 tons.”

“Holy shit! Where is it?”

Sasha took a remote from her lab pocket and pressed a button. A screen on stage popped up with a 3D map of the Solar System. She zoomed into the space between Earth and the Moon. A flashing light was about ¼ the way to the moon.

“That doesn’t seem so fast,” said Henry.

“Push the lever all the way.” He did and the blip picked speed and within thirty seconds it passed the moon and the screen adjusted to show Mars and Jupiter. Sasha said, “It traveling at .89 WARP. Now. Pull the lever back and flip the guarded switch and push the lever forward again.”

Henry followed the instructions and then pushed the lever up to full thrust. The blip reversed and followed the same course back towards earth.

Sasha rubbed the inside of Henry’s thigh as she took the control from him. Once again Henry jumped and his left knee thunked into the bottom of the table. Sasha laughed.

She manipulated the control and pointed up. Henry watched the capsule streak towards them. There was a bright flash of light and a blast of wind and the capsule was sitting a few inches above the cradle and then it settled down onto the stand.

Henry looked at Sasha and said, “I’m duly impressed. How big can this capsule be without endangering Earth?”

“Size doesn’t matter,” Sasha said with a smile. “Once we determine what we need to do to control it passed light speed then this is going to be exciting. It shouldn’t take more than a year or two.”

“You mean it’s going to be two years before I’m rich?”

Sasha said, “Well, we could make you moderately rich now or I could…” She leaned over and whispered into his ear. Both Henry’s knees hit the bottom of the table and he passed out.

To be continued…

Two Awards for Blogging

Sweet Blog Award

the Versatile Blogger

I’ve recently been awarded not one but two blog awards. Hey, now when you’ve stopped laughing I’ll tell you the rest… taps foot…, again…

Okay. I can talk through laughter. One award is The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award. Given to me by one of my favorite bloggers. Kelly’s blog http://www.genepooldiva.com/  always makes me laugh. You should give her a try.

 

The other award is: The Versatile Blog Award

Given to me by my very good friend and great blogger Kathy Lynn Hall http://inthewritinggroove.blogspot.com  Kathy is a great writer and blogger.

Me—versatile? The rules are basically the same for both awards: Tell seven things about myself. Thank goodness they don’t have to be secrets or I’d lose most of my readers and probably pick up an entire new set that would most likely scare me. I very much like the readers that visit now—so keep coming and I promise to get back to my stories about living in Thailand.

Seven things about me:

  1. The number one thing I’d like people to know about me is that I am a Christian. I don’t beat people over the head with that knowledge but I hope it shows up in most of what I do. I didn’t become a Christian until I was 53 and it came after a hard life of searching for the truth. I’ve looked into many different beliefs and, for me, found them all lacking. One difference in the way I practice my beliefs is I try to follow the things the Head Carpenter said. He didn’t come here to make judgments on us He came to forgive us. So that’s how I try to live my life- without judgment. I enjoy everyone I meet.
  2. I once held an Above Top Secret clearance. What more can I say—actually I’m not allowed to say anything. It’s really no big deal—I wasn’t a secret agent, black ops or mad assassin.
  3. I love women and am frightened of them too. Comes from my stumbling youth and even more clumsy young adult years. Women are so smart, witty, and have an attraction I can’t resist. That doesn’t mean I go after them with a bag full of testosterone (Not meant how it sounds) but I do admire them and enjoy talking with them. I’ve learned through the years that almost every woman I meet is beautiful and I don’t have to search for that beauty—it’s right there in front of me.
  4. I love the ocean. It pulls me, entices me, needs me and I’ve been away from it far too long. A lack of a boat and getting older is my downfall but I will return one day. John F. Kennedy once said, (Paraphrasing). We are attracted to the sea because the ocean is inside of us. Our bodies are made up of the same salinity as the oceans. I read that as a young man and then I lived in the Marshall Islands– on an island 3 ½ miles long and ½ mile wide– for two years. I loved it, felt the pull of the ocean every day, swam every day, sailed often and the sea and stars were my friends.
  5. I also love the mountains. My people are from the mountains—most came over from Scotland many years ago. I am also part Cherokee! There is a special kind of freedom high on the slopes or deep in the forest. You learn about the special relationship the Native Americans had with the earth and air. It’s a place where you can cast off the veneer of your civilized self and hear the world. I now live in the mountains of Thailand and when I climb the small mountains around our little farm I can feel the Earth pull at me. It’s also a place (along with being out of sight of land on the ocean) where you know a secret truth. This world was created by someone greater than ourselves. We and all the things around us did NOT climb out of some primordial soup. Please don’t yell at me for not conforming to new theories. Go to an earthly place and sit, look around and listen.
  6. I write to stay sane—really. I write so I can from time to time hear from a reader and they like what I do. I can receive no great gift from my fellow beings than to read what they say about my writing—good or bad. I do prefer the good, lol, but the bad means that I affected them in some small way. I’m not looking for fame—only contentment.
  7. I write about love and redemption and the main reason is my wife, Julee. She is the one person in this world that could live with a guy like me, She keeps me grounded, holds me when I need it, and forever loves me as I love her. She knows of these beautiful women I am friends with but she knows that my love is only for her.
  8. I have absolutely no fear of death. I fully expected to die before I was 40. Don’t know why but it’s true. Then it was 50, then 60. When my time here ends I will take with me memories of the people I know and love. I’ve done so much in my life that even now I know it is enough. I also know that there is more.

I hope I didn’t end on a morose note. Wasn’t meant to be that way. It was also only to be seven things, but I don’t often stay on the path.

And now for these Awards I am to name a few bloggers that I admire and think deserve these two awards. I hope I’m not put in chains for combining them. Never won a blogging award before so I don’t know the consequences. I’ll only pick a few of my favorite bloggers and I will spread my picks over the world. There are so many people I admire so if you aren’t picked—then smile and be happy. If you are picked then the gauntlet is passed. You too must pick others to carry this grave, lol, responsibility forward.

Diana Murdock @Diana_Murdock lives in Idaho http://dianamurdock.wordpress.com. She is one of the most honest, caring and beautiful people I know. Her blog is always filled with the beauty of truth. It sometimes frightens me how someone can be so honest, but I do love her blog. Her Romance book Again blew me away with feelings and wonderful words.

Junying Kirk @Junying007 http://www.junyingkirk.com/ is a wonderful and beautiful lady born in China and now lives in England. She takes you to places you’ve always dreamed of and interviews some very interesting people. I do enjoy everything she has to say! And she’s a great novelist.

Sandra Valente @BookWormSans http://ssbookfanatics.blogspot.com/ Sandra is another beautiful lady—are you sensing a pattern—who lives in South Africa. She does the very best book reviews I’ve read and has led me to many a great read! I first met Sandra when I was talking about a book I wrote that spoke of growing up with multiple heritages. She was touched as was I. We are friends.

 Eden Baylee @EdenBaylee http://edenbaylee.wordpress.com/ Eden does it all. Interviews great people, promotes other writers, writes poetry and saucy stories. I feel so close to Eden (with 4e’s)- that’s for Eden. I sometimes think that she is my best friend but we’ve never met in person, nor have I heard her voice except in her words. She truly is one of a kind and I’m very lucky to know her. She writes erotica but her voice covers the spectrum and you would enjoy getting to know this beautiful woman! Eden lives in Canada.

Zee Gorman @zeegorman http://zeegorman.blogspot.com/ Zee won me over when I first started to venture out into the world as a writer. Did I mention that Zee is beautiful? Zee grew up in China and now lives in San Francisco. We met at a forum at CreateSpace and began emailing. She told me of her life in China. She grew up near the border of then North Vietnam. Zee was the first person I ever opened up to about my being in Vietnam and she gave me a prospective of those living on the other side—completely different but then again not so different. Zee allowed me to say things I’ve never said and heal a wound I didn’t realize was there. She means the world to me! Her blog is honest, open and wonderful. She has two Fantasy books out that I loved reading! She also allowed me to practice my short stories with her.

There are many others I would name but enough is enough. If you weren’t mentioned—then feel lucky, lol.

Have fun opening up to the world.

JOSHUA – A Man of Destiny

The Joshua Tree

Here’s a question: What can give you instant gratification, a sense of purpose, and a good feeling that last and last? The answer: Helping someone.

That’s a truth you just can’t deny. I’ve found through the years that when I help someone, I’m the one that gets the most benefit out of it. Think about it. The last time you went out of your way to lend a helping hand, give a word of encouragement or do something as small as giving a few bucks; didn’t it make you feel good? And when a thank you or acknowledgement wasn’t expected in return, it was even better. Right? The tears of gratitude came from your eyes. Have you felt that contentment lately?

Well gentle readers here is a chance to have that feeling again. Recently my friend, Eden Baylee told me about another friend, Maxwell Cynn’s heart wrenching struggle. He just happens to be a great writer and someone I admire. Max’s son, Joshua had been diagnosed with Acute T-cell Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Then I read in Max’s own words how it was affecting his family and most of all Joshua. This was not a tale of woe but a straight forward note of love. It’s worth a read.

Eden decided to help. If any of you know Eden then you know she is one of the most supportive writers and people you could ever want to know—but this isn’t the story of Eden. What she did was set up a fundraiser to help Joshua with medical expenses and help pay off a large educational loan. You see Joshua is a 3 ½ years into a getting his degree in psychology and he’s been maintaining a 4.0 GPA.

Now Joshua is with his family and going through a fight for survival. Don’t we all know what the struggle to win against cancer can do to an individual? It’s a lonely time even with family and friends close by touching and encouraging. It’s a time when inner will rises up to show the strength of the one affected. Joshua is a man among men! He’s a fighter!

One thing family, friends and those who hear about this battle can do is let Joshua concentrate on this mighty struggle and ease the burdens he shouldn’t have to worry about. That’s what Eden and a group of writers, editors and advertisers are doing. Many have donated books and services to help.

This is your chance to get back that good feeling of helping. And receive something physical in return. Help Joshua and his family and get a great book to read. You can even get a book signed by the author. That was always a dream of mine—and still is.

Not only will you help Joshua but you’ll be doing something every writer strives for: having someone read what they write. That’s what the people offering these services gets out of this—along with the same good feelings you’re after.

100% of all donations go to Joshua and his family for medical expenses and college loans—100%!

I’m asking all of my wonderful readers to think about it. And pass this post on to your other friends. This is not an effort to increase my readership. I’m still amazed that people read my little post. I want to help the family. Click on the ‘like’ button and it goes to FaceBook, Tweet about it—heck, send it out in an email. Spread the word and give. I have put Joshua on my list of “People I want to meet”.

One other thing I would ask of you. Pray for Joshua’s speedy recovery. I believe that prayers can move mountains, change the world and heal the sick. It’s not an add-on; it is the very foundation of medicine and the rock on which we all stand.

Open your hearts to Joshua and his family and give. Here’s the link to Joshua (That little sentence has so much meaning) http://www.indiegogo.com/indiesuniteforjoshua 

With love and blessings to you,

White Lightening Will Make You Smile

Which way will he turn?

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Mountain mist

 
 
 
 
 

Waterfall

I been lacking in my post and I apologize to you. I been battling an old foe for the past few months—self-confidence. I am in the process of publishing my third full-length novel. This one was my first manuscript and has taken a great deal of work to bring it to publishing standards. I always fear for my children—my books—but this one is special. I’ll write more about it later. Oh, look! A picture of the front cover is on the left side of your screen.

I traveled to north Thailand with my wife, daughter and a friend to see the Long-Neck women of the Karen hilltribe. We drove through the beautiful mountains, around impossible curves with new wondrous scenes beyond every turn.

Mist covered rivers and slopes gave a primordial feel that we were traveling back in time. Bright clear sunshine and giant Teak trees casting dark shadowed gates across the road as if we were passing from realm to realm. There was silence in the car as we beheld the beauty of this trail into the mountains.

And of course I had to watch for the manic drivers coming from the opposite directions who gave no care as to which was actually their side of the road—Most invigorating.

We traveled off the main road near the village of Mea Hong Song that is nestled in a high mountain valley surrounded by majestic mountains. I drove up a small road high into the mountains just to see where the road led and saw a small turn off which I took. My wife wasn’t too happy about being in the middle of nowhere and very close to the border with Burma (Myanmar). What…, me worried? — I wanted to know.

I drove into a family complex of five houses. There were small contoured rice patties and small vegetable plots and it seemed peaceful enough. A few people came out to stare at us and I got out to speak with them. My wife locked the doors after my exit.

In my simple Thai—I actually have a country twang to my accent, which the farmers like—I asked if we could look around and see how they lived. Usually when I speak Thai to someone for the first time, the Thai’s look at me as if I were an alien from another world. Actually, I get that wherever I go. They’re just not use to a white guy speaking their language. I spoke to an older lady who had several children standing close by and she spoke and smiled and motioned for us to join them.

Mountain Slope

I think what really helped was not my language skills but my daughter’s friend, Roger, who is a giant of a man. Around six feet three inches tall, a strong body and a former Marine, Roger is impressive. The villagers were around five feet tall and were taken by this gentle giant.

I watched a young girl dipping out a mixture from a container and there was a familiar smell to it. I watched her carry the bucket over to a round iron pot that sat over an open fire and pour the mash in. I looked at the bamboo tubes that extended out about ten feet and saw liquid dripping from the end. It hit me with a smile. They were making Moonshine, White Lightening. I had never seen a Moonshine Still quite like this one but there was no doubt what it was. Many years ago, before my time, some of my family made and distributed White Lightening in the rolling hills of North Carolina. Ever hear of Thunder Road?

This was a different kind of Lightening—made from rice—so naturally I had to give it a go. Yep, 100% grain alcohol. These kind folks let us explore and ask question and made us feel at home.

Roger, the giant, found a tiny man chopping wood and took over the chores. Roger was raised on a farm and knew what real work was. He was a star!

Of all the friendly people I meet in Thailand my fondest memories are the people of northern Thailand. I asked one lady why everyone was so friendly and she told me that there were many people from Burma, Laos, the different hilltribes and of course Thais all living together. It was a must to be friendly.

As usual, for me, my hard drive with my older pictures is in one place and I am in another. I will find them and add them at a later date. I blame it on the Moonshine, lol.

I still plan on adding more pages to my blog for short stories, interviews and information about my books but like one of my favorite sayings goes: “I might not be good but at least I’m slow.”

Sea Salt- Good for the Soul

Sea Salt

I’m about to let you into one of my many secret rooms—in my head. I think everyone has these special little places that bring back memories of joy or serenity or fear or even contentment when the door is opened. They may not mean much to others but for you they bring on potent somatesthesias.

There’s a strip of road that runs along a deserted beach a few hours south of Bangkok that captured me and won’t let go. To either side of this road are shallow expanses where sea salt is made. I first came across it in the extreme heat of the day and was the only soul traveling. The entire area had square sections of pure white separated by low berms of darker sand. A few of the squares were filled with conical snow-white mounds, all in an orderly fashion.

I don’t know why but I had to stop and learn what they were. Perhaps it was the pure whiteness or the order or was it the unearthly quality of their appearance. No one was around so I returned to my little house but the vision stayed with me for the rest of the day and night.

 I woke before sunrise and my motorcycle called to me telling it was time to go. I watched the sun rise out of the sea to bath the land with fluid color. The sky was a washed-out blue that only dawn can create.

As I approached this alien section I saw beings appear in long lines. I came to this apparition to find workers lining up and walking onto the field of white with long staffs on their shoulders and a basket attached to either end of the staff.

The Path

The early morning air was cool but with a hint of the brutal heat to come. I stopped and asked an old man what they were doing and he said gathering sea salt. All the people were burnt nearly black, bare foot or wearing rubber flip-flops. They would approach one of the small mounds and a man filled both baskets and they would lift the burden to their shoulder and start the long trek back to the roadway.

Over and over they completed the circuit and each man and woman would look at me and smile as they passed. I could see the hard labor of their strong bodies and the serene look on their faces.

At around 9 in the morning the field was once again flat and not as white as the surrounding fields. The people loaded themselves and equipment on to motorbike and left. I returned day after day to watch the process and the people.

The little squares of land were actually ponds that would be filled with seawater. As the water evaporated more water was added and then overnight a pure white film would form on the surface like a primordial work of art. The process continued until the crust became thick and then the water would be drained and over the days more water would be added and then squeezed out by the very people who I first saw. Their skin burnt dark but their smiles never removed.

The People

It’s a bit hard to understand but in Thailand—as in many tropical countries—dark skin is not desirable—indicating the poorest of the working class, but these people seem to have no care of what others might think.

I’m not sure what it is about the scenes I have described: the work, the scent of the salt, the people or perhaps it was the fresh new day just beginning but each time I think of my trip I think of it as a passage to contentment. Does that make sense to anyone else? 

As you can see my secret compartments are filled with strange bits and pieces. One day I may share more.

If ever you want to look into the frailties, fears and hopes of a writer I suggest my book, In Search of a Soul. Much too much of me slipped out. Or try Tyler Hill’s Decision for a look into the writers’ heart.

Once again I hope you enjoyed my little story. In this new year I will add some short stories—fiction—and book reviews and maybe even interviews with some most interesting people—you the readers and writers. I do look forward to that! If I can figure out how to add pages, lol.