Anonymous Comments May End

When I started blogging on a regular basis, I decided it was a fair and logical thing to accept "anonymous" comments, so long as they were moderated.  In the past year, that has worked out for the most part, but I've gotten a few "off color" posts, as every blog owner can probably imagine.  This hasn't been a really big problem until recently, when a sudden influx of them has driven me to reconsider my position.

I tend to avoid controversy with my posts, as I'm really not a lover of conflict.  I am a fun loving writer, who is generally satisfied to weave my imaginative tales for all, and I like to keep my opinions and politics separate from this job.  Yet, now and then, I've found myself sliding into the hazardous realm of political opinion, and expressing one viewpoint or another that has drawn the attention and ire of differentially-minded people.  Some of those folks have turned out to be less than civil, posting narrow-minded and offensive comments, and that has left me wondering if I should stop accepting anonymous comments entirely.  Sure, the comments can be deleted before anyone besides me sees them, but it is annoying as hell to deal with an onslaught of childish trolls who think you should shut up unless you express their point of view exclusively.

There are times when you have to take a stand, and there are plenty of people who will always be standing on the other side when you do, waiting to take a cheap shot.  I would simply ask that those who read my blog posts refrain from spewing vulgar epithets or belittling my intelligence and integrity, simply because we may disagree.  Like that famous line from the Shootist goes, "I'll not be wronged, I'll not be insulted, and I'll not be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to others, and I expect the same from them."  What a wonderful place the world would be if more people (especially online) took these simple words to heart.

So, when was the last time you had a run-in with an internet troll?

West of the Warlock (Peek/Sample 1)

There are a lot of new people reading the blog these days, and many of them aren't aware that much of my unique Fantasy-Western cross-genre novel is available to read for free at Hall Brothers Entertainment.  So, for those who haven't stopped over there and started reading, here is the beginning of Episode 1:

The dust of the hills rolled up in great plumes behind the stagecoach as it thundered down the well-traveled road. The blued steel plates glistened in the late-afternoon sun, an armored behemoth among parched sagebrush. It was the pride of the fleet, owned and operated by Ferguson and Finney Limited. The mining consortium had a dozen coaches that made trips between Sacramento and Selwood, but this one was special, for transporting the most valuable cargoes.

The beasts hauling the coach were not horses, but sand mares. The cold-blooded reptilians looked more akin to dragons than equines, with scales and thorny protrusions covering them from head to tail. Six of the bulky creatures were attached to the yokes, and even with the heavy load they could outrun the fastest racehorse. The wild version native to the southern Rockies and Sierra Nevadas could turn you into a tasty snack with ease, though the domesticated variety were gentle enough, and could gallop in a smooth fashion.

Atop the armored coach sat a round cylinder of menacing armaments; the famed Gatling gun, the greatest machine gun of the day. With a few turns of the crank, it could fend off a pack of angry Indians, or slaughter the most ruthless elven bandits. Additional backup lurked inside the coach, as a pair of well-armed men waited with rifles and pistols, prepared to defend the cargo with their lives.

None could stand against the combined strength of these defenses which sought to safeguard this special transport, or so the stockholders hoped.

The man smiled. He's seen it all before. Similar weapons had done no good last week for a band of disagreeable elves. The pointies really thought that a few hunks of metal and a few guns could stand up to his might, but he'd shown them. The rowdy claim-jumpers who'd wanted to hoard a mother load of antimony had tasted his wrath, and not one had lived to tell of it.

That had merely been a warm up. Today, the warlock in black would prove his true mettle.

Rubbing at his chin, the warlock felt the start of stubble growing there, and his thoughts momentarily shifted to his personal hygiene. He was never one for beards, and he'd be damned if he'd grow one like the old stuffed shirts at the academy. How careless he was being, forgetting to shave over the excitement of a heist. That could not be tolerated.

With a thought and a rolling of his eyes, the man activated the magic at his command, and a ripple of red rolled down his face, removing the tiny stubble growing on his cheeks and chin. The end result was a perfect shave, smoother than the best barber could provide. He stroked himself appreciatively, and decided he was ready.

Stretching out his arm, the man formulated a magic spell in his head, and directed it toward the charging sand mares. A scarcely visible streak of light flashed through the air and shot into each of the animals, disrupting their central nervous systems. Paralyzed, they stopped dead in their tracks, and began to tumble from their remaining inertia.

Under ordinary circumstances, a stagecoach would flip over, or even end-for-end after such an abrupt stop, but the added weight of the armor plates prevented the thing from toppling. Its back wheels lurched up in the air a couple of feet, then came back down with a great crash, bringing everything to a halt.

With the coach motionless, it would be such a simple task for any parlor magician to teleport the wealth inside, or so the man in black believed until he tried. Clearly, the brains behind this armored wagon's design had anticipated the possibility of mystic assault, and laced the exterior with a neutralizing ward. Your typical warlock or elvish bandit would find it impossible to extract anything from within the vehicle, though there was nothing typical about this darkly clothed gentleman. If he wished, he could defeat the magic wards, and take what he desired with a thought, though encountering resistance made him bold, and eager to face his foes in person.

"Time to say hello,"

If that piques your interest, be sure to get over to Hall Brothers Entertainment, and download the whole first Episode.  Then, get the other 7 for free, and buy the book, which contains more of the story plus extras!

I'd Give Up Eternity (Minstrel Mondays)

Here's a pretty personal poem that I wrote for my wife shortly after we first fell in love (wow, it's been over 10 years now).  It was a time that certainly changed my life, and led me down a far different path that I had been on beforehand.  So, after nearly 11 years in a drawer, here's a piece of poetry I hope anyone who has ever been in love can understand.

I love loving you

as I've never loved before.

So long I've been forgotten,

yet now thanks to you I'm found.

Please never let me go,

for I cannot imagine the pain.

It hurts to think you'll ever be gone,

for my once dead heart

has now been reborn

and only you can keep it alive.

Stay with me as long as you can.

Never betray me,

and stay forever true,

for we can never escape this

high we've fallen into.

I ask the powers that be

that time will not take us away

from one another again,

because life would be nothing

if I can't share it with you.

Everything I have,

it seems so little.

Compared to you,

it all is nothing.

Not long before we met

I held the universe in my hands,

I felt the very breadth of existence

lurking in my mind,

I knew such the answers,

tasted spiritual truth,

yet all it did was lead me to you.

The facts of heaven were

at my fingertips,

and fantastic figures waited

willing to tell them all.

But now that I have you,

it all faded into irrelevancy.

I've given up the secrets of eternity,

just so we may be together,

if only for our lifetimes.

True love is so wholly illogical,

but fun to an absolute.

Maybe I've been a spirit far too long,

and it's time I enjoyed my human fate.

My soul can wait,

we'll be one once again,

but for now I just want to live.

The future may be uncertain,

but with you it can't be too bad.

I'll share with you the secrets of me,

and together, perhaps later,

we can proceed as once I had planned.

But for now, I only want to be with you.

Eternity can wait,

forever, if necessary,

and I'll leave it up to you.

Shall we give the world the truth it needs,

or let it wait in blissful ignorance?

Only you and I can decide.

I'd rather be here

with you in my arms

than flying with the angels any day.

Maine GOP Disenfranchises Voters

Last night, the Maine State Republican Committee & Chairman Charlie Webster decided to announce the "winner" of the Maine Republican Caucus Straw Poll, totally disregarding the fact that Washington County and much of Hancock County have not yet caucused & voted.  Following their declaration of Mitt Romney's "victory," they affirmed that anybody who hadn't yet caucused wouldn't count, and their votes wouldn't be added to the Statewide totals; never mind that towns legally have until March 20 to caucus.

This is very questionable behavior, for the race was very tight, and Romney only has a 194 vote lead over Ron Paul.  Washington and Hancock county caucuses will be held on February 18, and they could very well eat away or even eliminate that lead, giving Ron Paul a victory, but we can't have that, now can we?  The Great and Powerful Chairman has spoken!

This disenfranchisement should be an insult to every voter, regardless of party or ideology.  Basically, a few elites of the Republican Party are saying that those of us in Washington County "don't matter."  It is a spit in the eye, and an insult to everything the Founding Fathers fought for... and it should never be tolerated in a free Republic!

Here's a draft copy of a letter I will be mailing to my fellow Republicans in Robbinston, hoping to inform them of the situation and fire them up for the caucus:

As you have no doubt heard by now, the Washington County "Super-Caucus" scheduled for this past Saturday had to be postponed due to the snowstorm.  The rescheduled date for the caucus is February 18, 2012.  As previously planned, it will be held at Washington Academy on Hill Street in East Machias, starting at 1:30PM.  We'll have a candidate forum, where every Republican running for public office (from the Presidency, Congress, U.S. Senate, and the Maine Legislature) will be in attendance or have a spokesperson there to speak on their behalf.  We'll also be electing delegates and alternates to the State Convention in May, and reform the town committee.  Then, we'll be voting in a presidential straw-poll, which is perhaps the most important reason to attend the caucus this year.

As you may have heard, the State Republican Party decided to go ahead and announce a "winner" of the caucus straw-polls on Saturday night, even though most towns in Washington & Hancock County have yet to caucus.  When some of us objected to our votes being disenfranchised, State Party Chairman Charlie Webster dismissed us entirely.  He said there'll end up being fewer than 200 total votes cast in Washington County, so basically we don't matter, and he doesn't intend to add our votes to the statewide results!

This is an outrage, and we should all be upset.  By State Law, Maine towns have until March 20 to caucus and vote in the straw poll.  What Webster and the State GOP are doing is equivalent to closing the voting booths at noon on Election Day and telling us "tough luck, your votes don't count."  This cannot be allowed to happen, and no American should tolerate this sort of behavior.

It is important that as many Republicans from Washington County show up as possible.  We must send the State GOP a message, that we do matter out here, and that we have a right to vote!  I implore you, if there's any way you can take the time on Saturday afternoon, make the drive down to East Machias and join your fellow Republicans in the caucus process.  Together, we can make the entire country hear from us!

Hopefully, enough voters will show up to make Charlie Webster think twice about trying to cheat us out of our say!

A Busy Week

Things have been hectic for me this past week, as evidenced by my lack of blog posts.  In addition to getting the necessary signatures for my School Board run, I had a wisdom tooth extracted, and I've been working on several other important projects that have kept me busy and distracted.  I'm still sitting on some interesting news that just can't go out yet; not until I'm sure it's the right time.  Waiting really is a pain.

I'm pleased to say I'm putting the final pages down on The Six Gun Conjurer, and after my head stops hurting from the dental surgery I just had, I hope to finally get that completed.  The continuing adventures of Ron Grimes and company is shaping up into an even longer series than I ever would have expected.

As the third volume in the Fantasy Western saga nears an end, I have plans for a fourth book in the series, though I may let things set for a few months before I start work on it.  There are other stories I need to tell, and even more worlds to explore.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do.

Standing for the School Board

When it comes to elections, I'm something of a wildcard.  Whenever I run for office, I find myself fighting my own nature, which is to hide behind a keyboard and write my thoughts.  Public speaking will never be my forte, and going out to lobby for votes is always a stressful chore.  In the past, I've found that I just can't be shameless, and that has cost me in the arena of "popularity contests" that we call elections.

Yet, despite myself, I find it impossible to abandon the call of duty.

Daring to venture once more into the fray, I've decided to run for the Robbinston School Board.  The school board isn't always a "big" deal in my little town.  It's basically a volunteer position you have to get elected to.  Yet, while it isn't a position most people seek, it is very important for those of us who care about our children's future.  We need to make sure our kids get the best education possible without bankrupting the taxpayers in the process.  That is understandably a tenuous proposition, with restrictive funding guidelines and limited capital in these hard economic times.

Robbinston Grade School is one of the best schools out there, public or private.  We have a good learning environment, with teachers who are caring and attentive to the students' needs.  I want to keep it that way, but I can't do that from the sidelines.  Therefore, I must step up, and hope the townspeople will give me their trust.

Last year, we had the big "closure" spectacle, where the current board threatened to shut the school down and tuition our kids to neighboring schools.  The plan to shut it down would have actually cost $5,000 more than keeping our school open, but the threat was still made.  One board member used it as political posturing, to wake up the voters to the reality of an unavoidable tax increase, but another member seemed genuinely interested in shutting the school down.  He thought our kids would get a better education in a bigger, consolidated setting, and he's the one who's up for re-election this year.

I can't make any big, grandiose promises.  I'm not going to cut everyone's taxes in half, nor am I going to magically double funding for the school.  What I will do is fight to my last breath to keep the school open, and do everything possible to minimize the impact on property tax rates.  It's the least any school board member should do.

This isn't my first race, and it won't be my last.  I may hate the idea of another election, but there are times that a man must make a stand, and yet again here I am.  The only question is, who will stand with me?

Fly Me to the Moon

I've always been a big supporter of the space program.  While dreaming of the future is a prerequisite for a writer of Science Fiction, I have also held very practical views on exploring and colonizing outer space.  I feel it is mankind's ultimate purpose and destiny to travel to the stars, and the first step toward doing that is to get some colonies set up in our own metaphorical back yard.  By that, I mean setting up shop on the celestial bodies in our own solar system.

Newt Gingrich said something unexpected last week.  Now, I'm no fan of Newt, but he said we should establish a colony on the moon, and I feel that has merit.  Of course, he was just pandering to voters in Florida (where NASA is located, duh!), but where he might say it as a cheap political maneuver, I actually believe in doing it.  The United States needs to go back to our nearest celestial neighbor in a big way.  It's time we picked up where Apollo 17 left off, and actually do everything our forefathers were dreaming of during the 1960's and before.  It's time to build our moonbase.

A lot of people don't care about space these days, and even more would argue that this "isn't the right time."  But when the hell is?  The simple answer is it will never be the right time if you take that attitude.  We're never going to "fix things" on Earth, and there's always going to be some crisis or war or stock market crash that's going to scare people away from "wasting" resources on such a venture.  If we'd taken this attitude in the 60's (like Walter Mondale wanted), we'd never have gone into space at all, and the frontiers of science and technology would be far suppressed.  Much of the fantastic tech we use today was subsidized and perfected by the space program—but if you prefer your slide rule and think the Commodore 64 was the best computer ever made, I'm sure you'd love the alternate reality without a space program.

I also firmly believe that our landing on the moon gave us a real shot in the arm toward winning the Cold War.  We proved our superiority over the totalitarian Communist Russians, and that bit of psychological warfare did a lot to shape the future.  If the Commies had landed, it would have told the world that collectivist authoritarianism is superior and can "get things done," and that could have given the Reds enough pride in their own accomplishment to advance even farther.  I truly believe that without Neil Armstrong's historic step, the USSR would still be a dominant power today.

So, now, almost 42 years later, we have a new batch of authoritarians plotting a space race.  The Communist Chinese have been saying for some time now that they intend to set up a lunar colony.  This is not something those of us in the free world should take lightly, nor should we ignore the worth of setting up our own moonbase.

We are at a point in human history where building a base is perfectly viable.  We have the technology, and the resources.  All we really need is the national will to do it.  The longer we wait to get back to colonizing space, the harder it will be, as more Earthly problems crop up.  There is no telling what the future may hold, and all it would take is a few extremists to drop a few bombs and we'll be back to pre-industrial technology, or worse.

In case of terrestrial catastrophe, we need someplace to store the collective knowledge of the present era; a safe haven that will assure that everything we have written, everything we have uncovered, will not be obliterated by our own follies.  There are countless stories throughout history that have been lost.  What secrets could we have known, if the Library of Alexandria hadn't been burned by an illiterate despot?  How many lost writings are we still uncovering in the deserts, and how many will never be found?  This is something that should not come to pass again, but it likely will if we don't establish a secure storehouse off-world.

It is high time mankind build a base on the moon, and pretty soon somebody is going to do it.  The question is, who do you want in charge of the base?   Do you want it run by a fascist regime that views its people as little more than farm animals, a government that has murdered millions of innocents, and has no respect for civil rights or individual freedom?  Or do you want a free democratic republic in the driver's seat, assuring that the people who go into space will be bringing the tenets of liberty and justice with them?

I say let it be free men and women who colonize space, and let it be now!

The Curse of Selwood (Peek 2)

We're still several months away from the release of the second Fantasy Western novel, but while we're waiting for "The Curse of Selwood," I'd like to share another short snippet from Episode 1.

            The creature crawled out of his cave, the thin, emaciated being in the rough form of a humanoid.  While proportioned much like a human being, he was certainly not a man.  Bony protrusions jutted out of every joint, forming a crusty exoskeleton over his slim body.  The face was parched and flaking, akin to white sandstone, and the skin was sucked so tightly against the skull to appear ghastly.  No hair could be found upon his scalp, but a few black tufts sat along his jaw line.

            One might assume the creature to be native to the desert, and in recent years he had been, though that had not always been the case.

            Hearing the train, the bony being moved to action, rushing across the dusty landscape like a jackrabbit.  Speed increased with every lurching leap until the creature came to the top of a ridge and saw his quarry, the metal machine of man spewing black smoke from its stack, towing a dozen boxcars along the steel rails.

            The train was picking up speed, going faster than any horse could run, though that did not deter the creature from continuing the pursuit.  Racing down the hillside, the being rushed faster, darting along at remarkable velocity—soon matching, and then surpassing the rolling wheels of the locomotive.  He was within striking distance of the caboose before long, and made his move onto the back deck, reaching it in one leap.

            The moment was approaching at last; the time of retribution!

For those of you who haven't yet read West of the Warlock, be sure to get over to Hall Brothers Entertainment and read 75% of it for free, and if you really like it be sure to pick up a copy of the published book, which contains a lot of extra material that will tie into the forthcoming sequel!

An Inkling of You (Minstrel Mondays)

Sometimes, a poem is best left without explanation.  Read it and glean what you can from it.

Your graceless beauty

haunts me every day

Your saintless sultry

brings me a supple smile

When your train has left the station

I will still remain

committedly yours

There have been others

there will be others still

but everything I dream for

is waiting under your skin.

Elsewhere, I'll never find

that solitary look

you have in your eyes

For there are dreams we share

without even knowing

but we are worlds apart

beyond believing

and I'm never going to find

a single piece of mind

in all the days

that we are through

I can't look upon you

We have a heart to keep

locked up in our minds

trapped away from reality

timeless and unkind

We'll never know each other

so long as we're alive

but I know

we won't let go

To have an inkling of you

I know I'm a lucky man

yet you know only the shadow

I cast upon your plans

a caricature of compassion

lurking in plain sight

but never will we bring

ourselves to partake

of our inherent right

There will come a day

where nothing will be said

if we should stand

hand in hand

going forward forevermore

in broad daylight

Winter Fun at Jackson Park

Here's a look back in time.  These are a few old pictures from my Forthman collection, taken at Jackson Park in Chicago during the winter of 1915.  Pictured is Anna Louise Littlefield Forthman (my great-grandmother) with her five older children (this was 4 years before my grandmother was born).  The top photo is handily labeled, so you can tell who's who.

Those with a keen eye may notice a thumb print on the middle photo.  I'm not sure who left their mark on the picture, but it was undoubtedly some relative of mine, and it occurred long before I ever saw the print, probably before I was even born.

While not the clearest or most pristine photos, they're a fascinating relic of the family's past.  Have fun out in the snow!

Where Do I Go From Here?

Lately, I've felt like my life is in limbo.  Everything seems to have just plain stopped around me, and I am left wondering if I'll ever climb forward, or remain on this lonely plateau of existence.

A lot of this has to do with my writing career, and the state of my monetary prospects.  There are several big things that might be happening in the next few months, but if they don't happen I'll be stuck in the same place I've always been, wanting and waiting.  I can't express in words the torturous nature of my current predicament.

More than ever before, I know that now is the time; a make or break moment is coming, and it will forever determine the course of my life.  The utter uncertainty can be absolutely frustrating, but at least I have hope.  Without that glimmering inkling of possibility, there is no point to life, so as long as I can strive for the mark, and actually have some rational chance at success, I'll find the strength to carry on.

It is a lonely road, for certain, and in recent months I've felt very much alone in all things.  The friends of my past are long gone, and the associates of recent years seem to have shirked away, either distracted or disinterested in me.  I know there are those of you out there who really understand, and I thank you for your consideration.  I just wish there were a lot more of you.

Art has its price, and I fear I have sacrificed so much in my personal life in the name of my own creations.  I have lost face to some, and at times I feel that I've compromised my self-respect for the chance to keep writing.  Every day, I must ask myself, "Will it be worth it?" knowing I have no alternative but to find out.  This is a tough gamble I've made with my very life.  I'll either succeed in the end, or I won't.  Either way, there is no other path open to me at this point.  I've gone too far to turn back, so I'll just have to stick to my guns.

I know that my big break is just around the corner, but whether I'll ever turn that corner is another question entirely.  I yearn for the day where I'll be able to share the big news, something that will make everyone interested once again.

The Guns of Mars (Peek 2)

So far, this week has been a lot of prep work.  I've been writing a lot of pitch material, and crafting some more in-depth treatments for various projects I have in the pipeline.  I managed to get a few paragraphs down on the Six-Gun Conjurer, and hope to finally settle in to finish it off in the next few weeks.  Things are getting interesting.

Moving on to this week's Sneak Peek, we have another sample from The Guns of Mars (a book you should all consider buying, as it's one of my best).  This snippet is part of an intense exchange among some of Villas Colony's more prominent citizens.  Congress has just cut the space program budget, and the colonists of Mars must find a way to make ends meet to survive.  When economist Petra Euchland proposes an elimination of all salaries and that the colony be run as a "moneyless" society, Police Chief Timothy Keene doesn't take it lying down.

“A lot of us aren’t going to take a cut in pay lightly,” Tim added. “We may not have anything to buy now, but come retirement age, this planet will be hopping. A nest egg would come in handy.”

“What do you plan to buy?” Petra asked, amused by Tim’s defiance. “We’ll always have everything we need and simple luxuries. In fact, if we put our salaries toward the needs of the colony, and the next Congress decides to restore our budget, we’ll have a healthy surplus to provide all kinds of extras.”

“Hey, now you’re just talking crazy,” Tim countered. “Putting our salaries toward necessities is one thing, but if we get our funding back, I expect my salary reinstated—along with all my back pay! You’re not confiscating my wealth to buy luxuries for everybody else. I earn that money. I decide how it’s spent.”

“Wouldn’t you rather everyone in the community benefit by pooling resources, rather than you alone wasting it frivolously?”

“Who says I want to be a part of this ‘community’ forever? What if, in another fifty years, I get tired of that little gray box I’m living in and want to buy myself a hunk of land and go prospecting? There’s a future in micro-dome housing, and plenty of Martian real-estate to purchase.”

Petra laughed rudely. “You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, Tim. Real-estate on Mars? Really? This isn’t the wild west. You can’t go out and stake a claim. Private property is never going to be an option in this kind of environment.”

“That’ll change someday!” Timothy shouted.

Surrender? Never! (Minstrel Mondays)

Today is the opening day for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award 2012 Contest!  I've already gotten my submission safely delivered, and can now sit back and dread next month's first cut, where 4 out of 5 entries will be dropped because their "pitch" doesn't pique the curiosity of the anonymous judges.  I feel I have a good shot this year, but I thought that last year when I failed to crack the first round threshold.  It's all pretty random, and heavily based on personal tastes.  I just have to hope that I receive the right judges, who'll like my sales pitch.

I'm still waiting to hear back from someone before I reveal some pretty exciting news.  Stay tuned for that.

Now, back to Minstrel Mondays, with a general poem about the entertainment industry.  Whether you're an aspiring writer, actor/actress, singer/songwriter, comedian, etc... you'll find something familiar in this piece, that I dedicate to everyone who has a dream and still strives to fulfill it.

Hope

it's what I need

it's what I'm seeking

each and every day.

Let me on

the stage again

so I can pull off

a miracle.

Never in my life

have I ever asked for more

but never have I ever asked for less.

It's nothing to receive

this immaterial thing

but we're all hoping.

Throw it out again

trying hard to win

at a game that has

no ultimate winner.

Losers still abound

and failures come around

to the realization that

no one ever knows.

You could be the hit

they've been waiting for

the superstar of tomorrow

waiting in the wings

but by chance you turn out

to be yesterday's star

you'll never know

how far you could go.

Giving it your all

is only thinking small.

You've got to get out

and give it someone

else's hundred and ten.

How can you do it alone

when your competition is overgrown?

There's no comparing numbers

with the borg!

Step into the light

and keep fighting

for your moment.

There's nothing worse

than thinking "I could've tried."

If you try and fail again

even if you never win

at least you'll sleep soundly

knowing you did all you could.

When history is written

the worst of the losers

are those who never tried

and are left forgotten.

If you keep striving for the mark

even if you never reach it

somebody

somewhen

will at least know you were

alive.