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Read, Repeat

You must surely have heard the saying, “…things that go bump in the night.” Unknown sounds can conjure up a plethora of subjects to write about, especially in the horror genre.

I must admit that horror is not my favorite genre, but there’s always room for a “scare your pants off” type of story. For instance, even though I tend to write science fiction/fantasy and action/adventure, I can easily make space for a little horror in any one of my usual genres.

I think this is something you will find throughout the writing world, even in the most popular books of all those written in the romance genre.

That’s right; even in the lovey-dovey, smooch-my-face, world of romance, there is room for some good old fashion killing courtesy of the beast-next-door.

On the other hand, it doesn’t have to be the beast or anything else next door. It could just as easily be the paranormal being residing in your attic or the monster tick, tagging along on the mutt out back.

In fact, a chunk of horror can follow any genre and rear its ugly head at the most inopportune times.

Did you see what I’ve done? I have taken one of my least favorite type of books and made it one that will not only stand out in any crowd but also be taken by most in a positive light. Happy reading to all you new horror fans!

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The Smaller the Mouth, The Bigger the Bite

It never ceases to amaze me how I am able to look out of my window and see the miracle of God’s creation. With the onset of spring, this miracle will amplify itself into flowering beauty.

Along with the magnificence of spring, come unwanted, but necessary, biting pests. To me, these are the most astonishing of all. It is true they are the most annoying; however, to see a creature that small with a brain, nervous system and the ability to fly, digest, and use food for energy is truly amazing. Even though some of these bodily systems are rudimentary, the word miraculous is still an understatement. In my neck of the woods (Richmond, Va.), we have an insect called a no-see-um, because they are so tiny and extremely hard to see, although the damage they can do to your ankles is anything but hard to see.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have bumblebees and the like (carpenter bees, etc.) So un-aerodynamically designed, they defy physics being able to fly. God has a great sense of humor, so look around, enjoy the laughs and you may just find yourself marveling at those annoying little critters, feasting on your blood before you smash them flat.    

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Any Bigger and They’d Be Man-Eaters

I rarely find myself with a lack of material to write–not so, many years ago. When I was a young lad, I spent a large portion of my time fishing in the Chickahominy River/Swamp. What I did back then to catch fish would now be labeled as crazy (e.g., walking down the middle of the river, casting to each bank so as not to miss a spot where a fish might be hanging out.)

The prize species to catch was a Chain Pickerel. We always called them Pike, and if I remember correctly, a four-pound specimen could win you a citation.

What many people do not realize is a Pickerel is prized for its white delicious flesh, considered one of the best in the fresh water world of fishing.

I remember days when I would literally have to fight a snake for a particular fishing ground. Occasionally, this confrontation would take place when I was chest deep in water. It didn’t matter to me. I came to fish!  As far as I was concerned, if need be, one of us was going to die to maintain the right to fish and it wasn’t gonna be me.

Those indeed were the days.  During the summer, I spent almost every day reeling in my share of Chain Pickerel. Not only were they delicious, but they also retained the nickname, “Wolf of the Water.” They would hit like a ton of bricks and fight every inch of the way. If you were unfortunate enough to get your hand in its mouth, well, let’s say a bear attack comes to mind.

I’ll never forget, pulling in the wonderful bounty of sweet delectable flesh, attached to a creature who was not afraid to take you on.

Yes, sir, those were the days.       

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Good and Bad Things Happen to Non-Existent People

There are so many wonderful things in the world of writing: creating a world like no other, and building characters never seen before. I find myself so involved in the lives of some of these individuals, it becomes astounding even to me. How does one become so engrossed and care for a person that only exists in his mind?

On the other hand, you allow the good to die and the bad to live, all for the sake the story line. The worlds you create are totally up to you. They can be exactly as you see outside your window or as different as you allow your imagination to limit them. Your world maybe technology advanced, on the cutting edge of every new development, or so primordial that its inhabitants put the “primi” in primitive. The fact is, you are in charge of everything you write, whether it be science fiction or romance. Give your imagination free rein,and it will serve you well.

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The Perfect Way to Jump-start a Vomit

All my years of writing have consisted of science fiction/fantasy, action/adventure, and the like. I can’t help but think what would transpire if I made an attempt at romance.  I believe it would go something like this: 

“Darling, how I love you. I’m sure you love me also, just like you said you loved me.

Press your lips against mine and kiss me. Take me in your arms and hold me, hold me, hold me, kiss me again, never let me go!

This is the truest love I’ve ever known. I’ve never known a love that could be so full of love. I love you so much the sea couldn’t hold my love for you. Kiss me again on the other cheek you fool, for I dare not kiss you on the mouth again, hence that would not be proper.

I must leave but I shall return.  Until then my love, remember I love you, I love you, oh how I love you so.

As I contemplate these words I have written, I decide it would be best if I discontinue my romance writing  and I’m sure you would agree, cause writing this mush, ain’t me!

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Cha-ching, Cha-ching, Cha-ching

I sit here, in my writer’s room, happily tap, tap, tapping away, the icicles of last week having long since melted, when I suddenly remember  the month of February is upon us. In a panic, I ask myself, Do you have your reservations made? . . . What do I mean? What reservations am I talking about? None other than my Valentine’s Day dinner reservations.

Of course, this does not include a box of the finest chocolates and a dozen roses. I reach for my calculator. Dinner for two at a fancy restaurant. You know the kind, where they put you through the dog and pony show of tasting your wine before you purchase it–Like you’re going to send it back. If you are anything like me, you wouldn’t know the difference between a $6 bottle of Sutter Home Merlot or a $100 bottle of whatever.

Just a side note: one wine I do happen to like is Stags Leap. It’s $100 at a restaurant and a little over $30 at your local wine shop. Let’s get back to the cost of Valentine’s Day.

Dinner, $200, roses @ twice the price as normal, $75/doz., fine chocolates, $50+.

This is getting to be more like Christmas. Fortunately, my wife and I would rather opt out of Valentine’s Day, say, “I love you,” everyday and end with a kiss.

That’s my kind of Valentine’s celebration!

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Don’t Eat the Icicles

Waking up this morning, you notice a vail of icicles across half the back of your house. Pouring your first cup of coffee, you give it little attention due to the frigid temperatures outside. If you were able to look closer, you would see a rat sized mammal, weaving his way in and out of your gutters. The creature, depositing the clear liquid, was known as an acidic vulture. He closely resembled a badger with extendable extremities and retractable claws, sharp enough to slice granite.

The icicles, being made from an acrid fluid, froze at 32°; however, thawing brings clear drops that look harmless but melts whatever it touches on the ground below.

This fluid maybe used for mining or warfare. Ironically, warfare is brought about by the mined substance called chad. Chad was used for energy in the world of the other, and sought by all.

The Maldrin were a ground dwelling clan who carried shields that were manufactured with a recipe of chemicals and jewels that would repel the chad, although wear thin after years of use.

When temperatures remained too cold to melt the acrid stalactite the mammal would go to work slicing the deadly ice into chunks that would reign down upon the Maldrin . . .

Thank you for allowing me to show you how I spend my day in the world of writing science fiction and fantasy.

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