Shaking my head, for the last week I spent almost sixty hours at work collating data and creating timelines on thirteen accounts for one of the investors.
A tedious process at best because the information is scattered through different siloed systems and can cover 10 years.
This week I volunteered for a project with my publisher. No regrets to it, it has been very educational. No, I obviously did not learn that lesson in army about volunteering.
I have a single source and the project is to restructure the format of the data. I was to spend meager amounts of time in the evenings reading through the material. This allowed me to decide on a format easiest to read, manipulate and share. All I have had to do today is type.
It’s almost finished but the realization struck as I was reviewing it before moving to the next section.
It’s rewriting friggin’ timelines.

 

Thank you for reading,

Ernest

Never enough spoons…

Packing the apartment is further along. We have two moving companies scheduled for Friday to come out and provide estimates.

Managed to run errands yesterday and this evening. After success in a back to school drive, our management team at the corporate gig gave us two hours off. It was definitely needed. The rest of the week I should be able to come straight home and buckle down.

The extra time was spent conveying books culled from my partners work library to the Half-Price Books mothership. My will power is supreme, for I actually managed to leave without the acquisition of more reading material. Sorely tempted by a Cthulhu coloring book, really.

My partner is away right now, it was a conversation with her which led to tonight’s poem. It will be September before we see each other for any length of time again. Plenty to keep me busy and out of trouble. (as if!)

The phrase kept running around in my head after our conversation:

“How gems of a moment can bring perspective to the kaleidoscope of events which form the picture of our lives.”

so a poem had to be written. A realization today may spur another poem, or may a bit of flash.

“Conference rooms are the office chair equivalent of the elephants graveyard.” Not sure what will happen to it but should be fun.

Tonight I worked on the next story for Captain Hazzard, adding about 500 words. A small volume, for which I am happy considering the time spent. This story is going to require more research. Some time this evening was well spent reviewing effects of high frequency sonic waves on the human body and how to counteract harmonic frequencies. Glad I have decent math skills. Everything about the story is set fairly well in mind, except the villain. Really have not solidified the villain yet though I’m certain that will come.

And somewhere in all this I have a book to read for a newsletter.  I will be writing a monthly spotlight column. I do not have enough details to share more than that, but stay tuned. I promise to let you know where to find it.

And this is the point I should truly cease my rambling and bid you a good night.

Thank you for reading,

Ernest

 

Its a start…

The majority of my weekend has been spent packing. We just did this just over a year ago, so where did all this new stuff come from? Stuff, it really does multiply. In the midst of it all I have managed to get a start on a new book. Will be the same character as my last one.

“The sidewalk, which in a few short hours will bustle with the life pulse of the neighborhood is quiet now. The concrete oblivious to whether it is midday or midnight. The few scuffling this time of day, the strugglers for whom every waking minute is spent to pay the rent and buy food. Until this morning.

Deep in the belly in the earth, a terrible rumble rose along the street. People fell to their knees, clutching their ears as the pressure built. Three stories of a brick tenement collapsed on the corner a choking cloud of dust flushing the street. Crumbled into its own foundation, trapping the occupants to a grisly, crushing death.

For perhaps a split second there was silence, from the dust, anguished cries arose as the shock gave way to realization of the tragedy.”

Thank you for reading,

Ernest

 

Flash Friday: Anyone Can Learn to Drive …

… at the Intergalactic Driving School on the plains of Chocolatum. Have the instructors at the Hazduke Racing School given you your walking papers? The pilots from the Snoop-Baronian Academy shot down your hopes? Even the intrepid adventurers of The Temple of Doomnation turned you away? Not to worry. The Intergalactic Driving School (Head-Heart-Hope-In-Transportation), otherwise known as IDSHHHIT, is pleased to offer you the least exciting, most soothing, totally risk-free drivers’ education experience in the known galaxies.

All drivers who study with IDSHHHIT are guaranteed to pass. (They do not guarantee what you will pass, only that you will pass something). Each student driver is assigned a highly competent, expert instructor who hovers nearby, calmly guiding every move. The instructor may even, occasionally, gently pat a shoulder or forearm to remind students of a critical point. Even the most anxious students relax in the professional atmosphere of an IDSHHHIT class session.

IDSHHHIT training ships are modern, spacious, and comfortable, specifically designed to give a smooth, level ride. Seated in the capacious captain’s chair, you can feel the engine thrum far beneath you. The responsive joystick represents the very latest in driving control, allowing you to turn on the proverbial dime with just the brush of your fingertips. You will enjoy every moment of each lesson. Even the occasional mishap generally results in laughter and the chance to try again, as classes are held on the Plains of Chocolatum, where conditions are accommodating and, indeed, have a reputation for being highly forgiving.

Geography
The Plains of Chocolatum cover a wide expanse on the low-gravity planet Ganashinatum. The terrain has the consistency of what is known on Earth as “chocolate silk pie” – that is, the ground is soft and yielding. Even the soft grasses that cover the plains bend and fold at the slightest touch, leaving the haunting scent of roasted cocoa drifting through the air.

The atmosphere of Ganashinatum has been described as “thick as pea soup”. As IDSHHHIT literature points out, a dense atmosphere is excellent for muffling the conversations between students and instructors, ensuring that any unguarded remarks remain a private matter. The air seems particularly pea-soup-like over the Plains of Chocolatum, but this is likely an illusion and definitely not a result of intestinal responses to turbulence or sudden changes in altitude.

Ganashinatum is part of a complex solar system orbiting the sun Insurioso. This system has become known for its low-cost, high-return business investments. The planets and moons in this system include Collisio, a metal-based planet specializing in mechanical repairs; Superficio, a large, colorful planet with an extensive network of paint shops and dent removers; and J(unk)Y(ard)503, a tiny, far-flung moon that functions as a sort of informal drop-off point for ships beyond repair.

Intergalactic Visitors and Arrivals from Alternate Dimensions
Ganashinatum welcomes everyone equally. Intergalactic visitors are asked to register online at the Office of Intergalactic Distribution of Specie before arrival. Please include banking information and preferred form of payment. Travelers arriving from Alternate Dimensions are asked to bring currently accepted galactic credits or kindly requested to continue on their journeys.

Thank you for reading,

Ernest

All the Feels

 

 

To glide above mountains sharing lonely midnight,
As the moon moans softly through churning clouds of ash and soot.
Boldly through the light – another city, far, far away.
A chance to find my dreams, live in worlds of my design.

Dreams- yes, need to find my dreams.
Brush away cobwebs of faded memories-seeking jewels among nuggets of cynicism -if I need them.
All my energy for now
To pour myself into Moving.

Moving day –
Sword of Damocles creeping up on me.
A future is narrow, wide and deep.
Crossing into it with fear and excitement and –
All the feels I tell you.

All of them.
It is a step in the right direction,
Over the cliff of time.
Into the future we go,
A chance to live-
Live happily ever after if I’m falling

So? You want to visit Ourangdun!

Nothing says adventure quite like our Ourangdun. The open spaces which seem to stretch on forever tell the story of exploration and development. Our wide brown lands reflect Ourangdun’s pioneering spirit and unique identity. You can find a little bit of adventure in every part of Ourangdun, and while many regions are remote, they are patrolled and perfectly safe from outlaws.

So instead of worrying about an ambush, you can be enthralled by the rugged gorges, epic waterways and incandescent ocean of Ourangdun. Enjoy a triple-sunset chobo ride in Bwunda, then aquacar along the Poqntin River to the Jomilur Valley, home to the Oodic Cluster and near the beehive-striped Bingle Bangles of the Oyebykyky Butte. Bwunda is also the gateway to the remote, beautiful Spnouwe Peninsula.

Do I need a visa to enter Ourangdun?

Unless you are citizens of the planets Pyarpkupb or Neolwpkpbs, you will need a valid Ourangdun visa to land on the planet. Intrasolar visitors can apply for a visa upon arrival planetside. There is a slight quarantine period while awaiting approval. All other Intergalactic visitors must apply for a visa before leaving your homeworld. You can apply for a range of visas, including tourist visas and working holiday visas, at your nearest Ourangdun Oligarch Corporate Mining Conglomerate.

Which part of Ourangdun should I visit?

That depends on what you want to do!

• Want to go bounty hunting? Then try the northwestern hemisphere of the planet. The lucky traveler still occasionally stumbles over a nest of outlaws. You will be provided an introduction to bounty hunting and assigned to one our Corporate Raiders as interim Bounty Hunter. Would you like to know more? Please see our full list of visas, available at any Ourangdun Oligarch Corporate Mining Conglomerate.
• If you like to build sandcastles, then explore the Eastern hemisphere. Near Oyebykyky Buttes you will find a stand over a hundred people tall and hundreds of kilometers long. This is a protected area. Would you like to know more? Please see our full list of visas, available at any Ourangdun Oligarch Corporate Mining Conglomerate.
• If you have an interest in wildlife, you should visit the Southern Hemisphere Nature Reserve. Here you can find a host of indigenous Ourangdun animals: the rare Przwenlsli, the world’s last wild dragon; the Bombus bear; the golden Vombatus; bactrachian two-humped Rhincodon. Even sabre-toothed Tragelodontus venture from their mountaintop homes in winter. Hunting is allowed by special visa during peak populations. Would you like to know more? Please see our full list of visas, available at any Ourangdun Oligarch Corporate Mining Conglomerate.

 

Before you go . . .
• Indigenous natives are nomadic. Every nomad family you meet will offer to serve you with a salty tea. Fermented milk from the domestic Rhincodon and, if you’re lucky, Rhincodon intestines! There is no vegetarian fare as even the vegetables contain meat. They call it “vegetable” because the plants are green.
• Just in case you can’t stomach the local fare, I recommend taking . . .
Emergency rations from your ship.
• And anything else you can’t live without!
• And unless you fancy dealing with explosive diarrhea in the middle of a Ourangdun sandstorm—bring some antidiarrheal meant for your physiology! (You wouldn’t like the local concoction.)
• Other standard items to take include sunglasses, sun cream (we recommend SPF 300 because of the three suns), and small gifts for the nomads you meet on your travels (so they do not serve you with the above-mentioned a salty tea).
• Oh yes, one more thing … avoid the Orellian Death Worm at all costs!

Good luck and Happy Trails!
Remember the Number One Rule:
HAVE FUN!

Take the good with the sad.

Got a little sad news last night. The art book project for I wrote 14 or so flash pieces has been canceled. The publisher ended up returning the project to the artist.

On the flip side, the next few Flash Fridays are set. 🙂 No, not just those for the next 14 weeks there will be other content as well. The pieces are travel inducements based on the artwork. I believe many of them can serve as platforms for stories. As they get posted if you one would particularly like to see developed leave a comment. Thanks.

Research is progressing apace for the next pulp adventure book. Really had a lot of fun with the character and do not want to lose the momentum.

It is now official. I have told the corporate gig I am resigning. That is indeed both good and sad. I had really begun to enjoy the corporate gig again and the group with whom I currently work. I will miss several of them.

So I have no idea what I will find yet, there appears to be plenty of work available in the area. My partner and I discussed what sort of housing we should seek during a walk this evening.

Just because I had a blat writing them, I will post one of the pieces tonight.

Without further ado, I bid you goodnight.

Thank you for reading,

Ernest

 

Excerpt – WIP

“Good thinking. Let’s give those flying boats an once-over. Mary, you stay here to watch for Jake.
Joe, you come with Martin and I to inspect the sea planes.”

The three men approached the beached aircraft and one thing became apparent drawing near, bullet holes peppered the length of each plane.
Joe whistled, “Phew, did they land or were they forced down?”
“Let’s take a gander inside.” Directed Captain Hazzard, moving toward the nearest one.
He plucked the flashlight from his vest and peered through the hatch. The interior showed the scars of battle but the craft appeared airworthy.
“Captain! Over here!” Joe called from the hatch of the second plane.
He and Martin trotted to the second plane. Inside a figure was stretched along one of the benches. Captain Hazzard clambered inside the craft and checked the man’s vitals. He was alive though from the looks of the cabin he had lost a lot of blood. On his right hand he wore the stylized lightning bolts of the SS.
The touch caused him to moan. For a moment consciousness rallied behind his eyes but not full awareness. He saw Captain Hazzards blonde face over him he asked if they succeeded.
Captain Hazzard responded in flawless German, “We are here in answer to distress. Dietrich called for reinforcement. What happened?”
He uttered one word in his final gasp, “Huldu”.

 

 

Excerpt from WIP

“It felt good to lie down. Martin admitted frustration not to be going to the museum, he enjoyed the peace and quiet. Captain Hazzard checked in during his inspection of the Silver Bullet II. Though he designed the fuselage and its armor, he marveled at the engines Captain Hazzard built.
He was glad the frustration passed before Captain reached out. This mind-talking still unnerved him a little. The Captain would have worried if the irritation had shown in his thoughts.
When the hangar alarm blared next to his bed, he would sworn he just laid down. A quick glance at his wristwatch belied that. It was 1 a.m. In short order, Martin dressed quickly and pedaling the bicycle purchased for him. The guard at the gate was suspicious of him. Disheveled with the speed of dressing in the dark, and the exertion of a hard ride to the gate, Martin admitted he would be suspicious too. Anxiety mounted as he waited for the guard to decide he had clearance to proceed to the hangar.
His escort, required by Major Svetkov, panted behind him by time they reached the hangar. Martin motioned his escort to ready his rifle, then flung open the access door. He followed the soldier through, but saw nothing. The hangar had no electricity, and in his haste Martin forgot to grab his bag with one of the flashlights. By the ambient light, he located the lantern on the hook near the door.
The lantern held high, he began the search the hangar. Followed by the soldier, he felt foolish. No tampering of the Silver Bullet could be discerned as he performed a walk around. The craft nearly filled the small hangar. Truth be told, it took long enough to get here any panels opened could be easily closed at leisure. A rustling under one of the windows caused both he and his escort to jump slightly. His tension appeared to cross the language barrier with no problem.
Beady red eyes shone from under one of the windows. A rat. Breathing a sigh of relief, Martin began checking the magnetic security locks. The wires from one to its radio transmitter had been chewed. The effect was the same as if the magnets had been separated by opening the window. The circuit opened and set off the alarm. Martin pointed at the broken wire and the rat. It took a moment, but the nickel finally dropped and his guard laughed. A shake his head, Martin made short work repairing the broken wire.”