GHOST OF MARK TWAIN: Golf is a good walk spoiled but a bullet to the brain adds insult to injury!

Ghost of Mark Twain here

Golf is a strange pastime. 

You hit a small white ball as far as you can -- and if you can find it the same day --

Well, don't you know, you've won!

Now, I try to stay out of politics on Roland's electronic newspaper ---

But appears to me that the American Spirit is deader than me -- and I'm a ghost.

Why the "Party of Democracy" had its candidate installed without one vote cast for her --

Sorta like those freedom loving countries of China and Russia, don't you know.

While the so-called "Enemy of Democracy" has had more state-sanctioned arrest warrants filed on him than in any Banana Republic.

And when that didn't slow him down, why, the government assigned the Keystone Cops as protection --

though it was sorta amusing to see those small gals trying to shield him with their bodies and fail to find their gun holsters.

When the enemy of democracy managed to survive and then beat their befuddled candidate in a debate --

Why the course was clear for them -- set their pet journalists on him while debating their newly installed puppet, ah, I mean candidate.

The government of my country still seems to snub honest simplicity to fondle artistic villainy.

Why, I think I might have developed into a fine pickpocket if I had remained in public service a few years.

I'm sure that pretty gal AOC would have helped me. I mean she started out serving beer and a few years in Congress has made her a multi-millionaire!

It occurs to me that there is no distinctly native criminal class ... except our government.

Now, the "Enemy of Democracy" has had the gall to survive a second murder plot.

The phrase "Third Time's the Charm" comes to mind. 

I worry for the man ... and for the democracy for which those in power in Washington keeps wailing he is the enemy.

Oh, well, when he gets here, I'll teach him a real game: billiards! 

I promise not to cheat ... much ... by now, he'll be used to a little of that.

(Gypsy, Ghost Cat)

THE BOY IS IN THE PATH OF A HURRICANE AGAIN_ Ghost of MARK TWAIN

 

"We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it ... and stop there!

Lest we be like the cat who sits down on a hot stove lid. She will never sit down a a hot stove lid again ... and that is well.

But she will never sit down on a cold one either!" 

- Mark Twain

So there I was "vittel" (that's Food to you, city folks) shopping with the boy ...

Now, don't go giving me that look, pilgrims.

To ghosts all you living are children!

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes, the boy and I were doing his weekly supply run when that dang spit-fire, Francene, decided to pay us a visit.

Why, I have seen hunting tigers act with more decorum than the folks throwing cases of water and canned goods in their shopping buggies!

I heard a ghoulish giggle beside me and turned

It was the ghost of Madame Lalaurie, her husband's scalpels in her long fingers.

"Shall I teach that rabble some manners?"

I huffed, "To teach, you must know. Now, go on with you. If you must cut someone, look in the mirror ... if you can stand the sight."

Looking a mite pale at the disappearing murderess, Roland cleared his throat and said,

"You can't blame their panic, Mr. Clemens, some of these people barely survived Hurricane Laura."

"Bosh, son! Laura was a blustery category 4. Old Francine is a mere hiccup of a One!"

"Last year, Hurricane Beryl was a "Hiccup" of a One, too, sir. She still killed 36 poor people and left 2.3 million without power for days."

Darn it all! Now, the boy has me worried. I mean if he dies, who will take care of his cat, Midnight? 

His ghost cat, Gypsy, rides on my shoulder ... and ghost cats need no vittels!

THE STARS DO NOT DEMAND_ Chapter Seventeen_ THE GIRL WITH SILVER EYES

 (Apologies -- a bout of food poisoning had me accidently post this before it was finished. Sorry)

"The only requirement for surviving is to remember the lesson from every scar." 

- Lucas

Lucas had lost count of the ways his life had been in jeopardy.

But he was sure that he had never been in danger of being killed by a movie poster ... 

actually an ancient book possessed of sentience,  sorcery ... and not a shred of morality.

Not unlike himself ... would that be poetic justice he thought.

Whatever the Book had planned for him, death was the least of it.

The longer he lived, the more Lucas saw things differently. Everything gained in mystery and grandeur ...

becoming more and more unknown, not less ... and beautiful somehow if you only looked at the complexity of it all ...

yet more remote at the same time as if his mind flinched from what it sensed in the invisible threads woven in the world.

He had never dared trying to "turn the corner" to someplace he had never been, fearing what would happen.

Lucas thought desperation was the raw material of drastic change, usually for ill rather than good.

Later he could never explain why he wrapped his arms around the two beside him and cried out, "Shut your eyes!"

Cosmic fire ate his world as he thought:

'The stars do not demand you go into the darkness, but if you wish to see them that is what you must do.'

HOW TO MAKE YOUR BOOK A PAGE TURNER_ IWSG Post

 

A book is a journey we do not have to take.  

We must be persuaded to do it.

Usually it is the set-up that does that for us: a unique or intriguing situation.

But once the book is picked up, 

it will be the characters who will tug us along to find out what they will do and say next. 

Do they make us laugh?  Do they make us root for them?

As humans, we are driven to seek an understanding of others,

for in understanding them, we come close to understanding ourselves ... 

and perhaps we will not feel quite so isolated, alone.

HOW TO ENGAGE THE READER

1.) EACH STEP MUST TAKE YOU SOMEWHERE 

As I've said: each book is a journey.  Characters, descriptions, or dialogue ... must move that journey along ...

or you are making the reader simply jog in place!

2.) TONY STARK ON A ROAD TRIP

Wouldn't he be a hoot on a road trip to anywhere?  

Your characters must entertain in some form or fashion

or your reader will opt for more enjoyable companions.

3.)  WHERE IS THE DARTH VADER OF YOUR TRIP?

Success conceals; adversity reveals.

Is he looming like a storm cloud on the horizon?

Or is she sitting, smiling like the false friend she is, right beside your hero?

Does his motivation make sense to the reader or does he exist merely to be the Big Bad of your story?

Your reader should see that he/she is just one bad day away from becoming that person.

4.) WHERE IS THE TICKING BOMB?

Imagine a tense company board meeting: 

the founder is being betrayed by his best friend in a hostile take-over.

He is bravely, intelligently fighting for his dream while the Judas is smugly smiling.

Unknown to them both, but known to the reader, a terrorist bomb is ticking beneath the table ...

right in plain sight should someone just bend down to pick up a fallen pen.

Tick ... Tick ... Tick.

Can you see all the various ways that could play out?

Your hero staggers out of the board room, having lost it all as his wife rushes into his arms ...

just as the bomb goes off, killing all those within the office.

The Judas in betraying his best friend ends up saving his life.

5.) WHERE IS THE WONDER, THE MAGIC?

It does not have to be literal magic but the wonder has to be there to draw your readers in and keep them.

SAME OLD, SAME OLD plots can become riveting if you spin them.

Robin Hood is the villain; 

the sheriff is the valiant, misunderstood man of honor 

trying to keep peace in order to prevent the King from ordering mass executions of the peasants.

A simple view out of a stagecoach window can become magical if your protagonist describes it so that the reader views it with new eyes.

My tagline to the front page of 

THE NOT-SO-INNOCENTS AT LARGE is

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but in acquiring new eyes.”

– Samuel McCord

Hope this has helped in some small way, Roland

THIEVES DO NOT STEAL FROM EMPTY HOUSES_ Chapter Sixteen_ THE GIRL WITH SILVER EYES

 

"Oh, my son, traveling across indifferent space, past aloof stars, you are a unique sojourner. And our arrogant sun is offended that you ignore her.

You see, that selfsame sun birthed the human race. Out of all that indifferent arrogance ... out of all that aloofness arose our capacity for feeling, for poetry, for understanding the cosmos.

We two-leggeds are woven from the molten threads of stars.

And you are a marked soul because of your lack of gratitude." 

- Amaia

M&M waved lazily at the blonde.

"Relax. Ingrid. I ain't no Nazi. Just because I was ordered to kill him don't mean I'll do it without knowing why."

Lt. Durtz frowned at Lucas. "Why would the Major-General order such a thing?"

Lucas nodded at the mock movie poster on the wall.  "The general ordered Henderson to fetch the girl with silver eyes, holding that strange book."

Lucas made a face as if biting into a live snail. "He didn't want that girl but the cursed book she was holding."

Lucas sighed, "Donovan wanted me dead after I got him the book. I just proved too slow."

M&M grunted, "I don't believe in any such things as cursed books or demon girls."

"I do," murmured Lt. Durtz. "My schooling across Nazi Europe has shown me the occult is all too real."

The blonde removed her friend's beret and gently placed it beside the discarded drink. "And my psychotic sister killed all those who grew close to me."

The blonde locked eyes with Lucas. "How is the book cursed?"

"Ever read 'The Monkey's Paw' ?"

Lt. Durtz husked, "Fan i helvete!"

M&M frowned, "What's so bad about the monkey's paw?"

The blonde whispered hoarsely. "It grants three wishes with the last one always being for death no matter what the other two were for."

"Like I said: I don't believe in cursed books."

Lucas snorted, "Bully for you, M&M. But this book is worse than the Monkey's Paw."

Lt. Durtz swallowed hard. "How worse?"

"It is sentient."

M&M frowned, "What?"

"Self-aware, Sergeant."

Lucas sighed, "It has existed before the birth of language, trapped to be stationary unless carried by a human."

Lucas ironed his face with his right palm. "Now, it has become aware of me and my own curse, and It wants my curse for itself."

The blonde scowled. "What curse?"

"Some are born colorblind, some psychic, some clairvoyant. I was born with the ability to move from Point A to Point B if I have been to B before."

"I don't believe it," scoffed M&M."

"I don't care."

Ingrid shook her head. "Why would it want your curse?"

"Why would it not, Lieutenant? For untold ages it could do so many things ... except move on its own volition. 

Perhaps that explains the vindictiveness of its wish fulfilments ... to punish the greedy humans who possessed the one thing of which it dreamed."

Lucas grimaced. "It could do wonders for others but nothing for itself ... until me."

Ingrid's brows furrowed. "Would you let it take this power from you?"

Lucas shook his head. 

"To be rid of this curse is tempting ... but given mobility, this book would become a plague on this world even more than it has been."

M&M snorted, "Well, you ain't got to worry about that just yet. That damn book isn't here."

Lucas nodded to the movie poster on the wall from which an eerie face was emerging.

"Oh, but it is. I didn't take that poster with me to here. The Book Who Drives Insane hitched a ride with me."

THE COMMON ENEMY OF MAN_ Chapter Fifteen_ THE GIRL WITH SILVER EYES

 

"We all carry within us the common enemy of Man: a future death. 

A man's life, if it be of any worth, is a continuous allegory and very few eyes can pierce its mystery." 

- Eileen Henderson 

Lucas felt Lt. Durtz's eyes on him like a brush of hot wind.

Her voice sighed, "Eileen often talked of her "magician" partner who saved her when the Reich was closing in on her."

Ingrid Durtz's body shivered as if wishing to free itself from the mournful recollection.

"He was crafty like a fox,' she told me, 'clever, his genius curious, and his calm under fire amazing."

Lucas cleared his throat, uncomfortable at hearing his only friend's private thoughts, especially when her spirit had just been so malefic. 

For a heartbeat, it seemed that Lucas could see the misty outline of her demonic face fill her quarters.

As quick as a knife flashing out of the darkness, it was gone.

"It only seemed that way from the outside."

He grimaced. "The inside of my mind was much more chaotic."

Lt. Durtz lightly touched a half-filled glass on Henderson's vanity table.

"She did not finish her Ginger Ale and Brandy. 'Dutch Courage' she called it."

Lucas made a face, and M&M followed suit. "I'm with you, pal. That sounds terrible."

"Lucas, call me Lucas."

The man's craggy face became granite. "You're Captain Lucas?"

Lucas nodded.

"Major General Donovan has ordered me to kill you on sight."

Lt. Durtz cried out, "M&M, no!"