The end of a creative group

Sadly a project in which my partnered artist and I had completed our work has been cancelled. Once Upon a Mystery… is no more. Apparently a lack of communication more than anything else among the principals. This was suppose to be a fun and simple project, a crime noir fairy tale that was PG-13.

For my part, I could not have asked for a better partner on the project than Andrew Spalding. He is very talented and creative as an artist and a collaborator. I feel we worked well together and if I ever have the opportunity to work with him in the future would jump at the chance.

Over the next week or so I will release the story here and I will reach out to Andrew regarding placing at least one of his images for it at the end.

Thank you for reading,



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,



April 18th, 1942 The Doolittle Raid

Last week I spoke about heroes. Some say this day in history created heroes. Eighty men took off early that morning.

There are those who decried this as a pointless effort and waste of life. These 20-23 year old kids climbed into and flew planes off of an aircraft carrier. Did I mention these planes were never meant to do that? AND they did it knowing they did not have enough fuel to make it back, hoping they could make it to mainland China.

The results? A boost to Ally moral, a blow to the foe who thought their island untouchable and perhaps most importantly, causing the Japanese to pull back forces to protect the homeland. As bloody as the battles of Wake, Guam, Midway, and Okinawa were, those brave men and women were not facing all they could have faced. Many have sacrificed for us, thank a soldier for their efforts and give a thought to those who have gone before.

Like all stories there is more, to it. Because some Japanese fishing vessels spotted them, they took off early. This made their raid a daylight one rather than the intended night raid. Coincidentally though, he Japanese air defenses were down while an air raid drill was being conducted.

That was the last event which went in most of their favor. Eleven of the planes crash landed with crews bailing out. They had to make their own way to friendly territory. Eight were captured, of those one starved to death in a Japanese P.O.W. Camp and three were executed.

Those who survived the war began a reunion with a special ritual, a toast of Cognac in silver goblets. Each goblet had a raiders name engraved upside down. Every year, as their numbers dwindled, if a raider passed away, their goblet was turned upside down.

The last such gathering was held in 2013. Only four raiders remained to attend. At the time Lt. Col Richard Cole made a toast raising his glass before a large audience at the Wright Patterson Air Force Base and said, “I propose a toast to those who were lost on the mission and to those who have passed away since,” adding, “May they rest in peace.”

Lt. Col. Richard Cole, Jimmy Doolittle’s co-pilot, is now the last surviving member of the raid. At the age of 101 he was interviewed by Richard Roth of CNN at the Pacific War Museum in Fredericksburg, Texas.

“I asked Cole his secret to living past 101. He simply said, “Keep moving.” He said he would like to be remembered along “with the rest of the people that had an impact on winning the war.” I asked Cole if he felt he was a hero. A quick response. “No.”

You make the call on this, the 75th anniversary of one of America’s greatest military accomplishments.”

Anyway you call it, if you want a stirring, spine-tingling read, I recommend “30 Seconds over Tokyo” by Capt. Ted Lawson.

Thanks for reading,