My Earth, All Mine

“Happy Holidays?”  Had enough merriment and good cheer? Tired of  “Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year?” Too much generosity and good cheer for you? How about some doom and gloom? This is the time when loners feel their lonesome the most. Give them a little love.

So there’s loners and there’s LONERS. What if you were in the latter group and you didn’t want to be just left alone in your cabin in the woods or your little apartment in the city. You wanted to be the only human on Earth. How would you go about it?earthmine

You’d want to consult with Gaia first. I’m sure she’d be glad to be rid of the human pests, but you wouldn’t want to piss her off by screwing with her plans for us, would you?

I’m not talking about evil super villains who want to have all the money and rule the world.  They need people to lord it over. The same with religious fanatics. They need people to listen to them preach doom and gloom, fire and brimstone, and you’d better have sex with me or God’s going to be mad at you. And political despots. They need somebody to enslave, harangue, and be paranoid about. Without people they’re just crazy dudes ranting at themselves.

The main problem of eliminating humans from the planet is getting rid of them without killing yourself. What good is having a planet of your own if you’re too dead to enjoy it? Inciting a nuclear war probably isn’t so easy now days. And if you could, say, obtain the launch codes for all the missiles in the US or Russia and set them all off and create a full on nuclear winter killing most everything that lives, that doesn’t sound very agreeable. If you’re going to be alone, having warm, secluded beaches or pleasant woodland walks would be a necessity. Whether 8 billion people crowd the planet or none, what difference would it make if you’re shut in your bomb shelter for the next 1000 years?

Mosquitoes are your friends. They inhabit all the earth except Antarctica. They infect hundreds of millionsmosie1 and kill millions every year. All you’d have to do is cook up a big batch of a human specific virus or bacteria, infect  a few million mosquito eggs, and distribute them around some of the busiest airports. Within days of hatching, your personal little pandemic would have spread throughout the world. Then, all you’d have to do is sit back with your beach towel and umbrella in hand and wait for the beach to clear out. Assuming you thought to immunize yourself against your private plague.

Or, you might want to learn how to sail before hand. Once you let the little monsters loose a long cruise into the ocean while the sun, bacteria, insects, and animals dispose of the dead would be nice. If you’re smart, and watched too many horror movies, you made sure that the dead stayed dead.  It wouldn’t do to come back to shore and bezombieblog2 greeted by a few billion hungry Zombies. That could be just as bothersome as a few billion regular folks. Vampires could be a problem. There’re already dead and they’d be really hungry. Better stock up on holy water, silver bullets and learn how to use a svampblogword.

Of course, with humans gone the world will start fixing all the damage we’ve done to it. This includes the return of wildlife. I imagine Bigfoot will sigh with relief not to have all those little humans stalking him with cameras. With small wildlife expansion comes the revival of the big predators; bears, big cats, wolves and the like. So, while you relax on that empty beach best keep an eye out. Those big cats only respect you for your food value, not your desire for solitude.catsblog4 wolfcatsblog2

IDEAS

What If? there really was (there probably is, tucked away in some government vault)  a virus/ bacteria that was capable of wiping humans from the planet? Then some group in a simple steal it/ransom it operation successfully steals it. But, just before they were to get their millions, one of their own, a stealth religious fanatic, steals it from them for his own highly misguided, God, Jesus, Mary Magdalene-told-me-to- do-it  cleanse the earth scheme. Suddenly the bad guys and the good guys have to work together to save all of humanity. Of course the good guy leader is an attractive woman, and the second in command bad guy is an attractive man (or vice versa) and they have to work together, close together.

What If? somebody did wipe humanity from the planet and  was enjoying their solitude when he/she came across a group of aliens intent on taking over the Earth. Well, he went to a lot of trouble to depopulate the world so now he has to fight the aliens for the planet.  He wins and once again enjoys his solitude when a group of astronauts who have been on a long space journey returns. Our single inhabitant sighs, “Can’t a guy get a little peace and quiet on his private beach?” A series for sure.beach2

What If? you were in a group of astronauts returning from a long mission and you found the only survivor of the Great Plague that wiped out humanity. You fight him at first, but he/she kidnaps one of your people and finally decides you can stay. But, the nasty bug is still around and the only way you will survive is if he gives you the vaccine, but it’s across the country and you may or may not have time to get there. Who will survive the journey? Surely not Adam and Eve – that would be too cheesy.

So, whether you’re a loner alone or a loner in a crowd find a bit of Christmas spirit and don’t vanish humanity, at least until after New Years.

Check out and share my first attempt at a book trailer for my story Heartbreak – http://youtu.be/NNLTJNUgYHs

My website (such as it is) with information on my books and stories is: http://dcburtonwriting.wordpress.com

Feel free to comment and Please share.

dcburtonjr@gmail.com

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Who you calling old?

One of the characters in the novel I’m working on, Blood on the Water, (the sequel to Blood Justice) had herself turned into a vampire to seek revenge. That got me thinking…

If there are such things as vampires, I hope before one changes me into a ravaging blood-thirsty beast I have time to get hair plugs, a face lift, a tummy tuck, a bit-o-liposuction, and a little tightening of the neck. My nose is good. Even though I’ll be lurking in back alleys and dark parks looking for cute, blonde teenage girls (I didn’t add smart because a smart girl wouldn’t be in those places) to slake my maddening thirst for fresh young blood, I want to look good for the rest of my immortal life.

I just celebrated (?) one of those milestone birthdays no one looks forward to. If I’m destined to be changed into an immortal beast monster gentelman this isn’t the one I’d have chosen to be changed at.

What  would be the best age to be upgraded to immortal? “Go Young” you might say. But how young? Certainly not less than 18. It might sound fun to be a teenager for ever, but after 30 or 40 years you might want to go into a bar and have more than a Shirley Temple. They card vampires too, you know. Not to mention that as a teenager you might think you know it all, but you don’t. Unlike Rodney Dangerfield, if you want some respect, you should wait until at least 21 before allowing that charming bad boy/girl vamp to give you the bite that lasts. Even at 21 you’ll still get carded everywhere, and after 20 or 30 years nobody is going to look at your ID and believe you’re 40 or 50 years old. You don’t want people looking into your birth records then bugging you for the secret of how you’ve stayed so young looking, do you?

If you want to flow through the centuries with a certain level of gravitas, you might wait until 50, or even 60. Maybe 62 if you’re big on Senior Discounts. Who knows, if us mortals continue to live longer on our own 60 might be the perfect time to get that sporty convertible to scratch that mid-life crises itch. However, if you’re going to choose that option I suggest you go vegan and to the gym, starting now.

30ish would seem to be the ideal age to receive the gift, or curse, of immortality. Old enough to leave some, not all, of that youthful wildness behind you and still have your body, good looks, and hair.  If male pattern baldness is already creeping up on you, you might consider going younger, or learn how to shave your head. Bald is beautiful, Baby! You’ll also be young enough to be envied by all those old folks over 40. A plus for sure.  At 30, with experience and youthful indiscretions behind you, you’ll be ready to start building the fortune that will sustain you for the coming millennium or two; houses, cars, boats, travel, spouses.

Speaking of hair, make sure you have your hair cut in a classic style for the ages that you like. Because I’m not sure the hair of vampiric immortals will grow out to fix a bad haircut.

IDEAS

What if you were young and down on your luck, maybe living in your car, with few prospects, and a stranger, say 65-70 years old, offers you $100,000 dollars for your youth.  You would still be you, just 65-70 years old. Maybe some grey hair and some sagging here and there, but still you with the same mind as now, just older. You agree. Abra Cadabra you’re old, but not without some intelligence. You look into this age swap thing, find out the stranger’s secret, reverse engineer it, offer some not too bright drunk 25-year-old $5000 for his youth. “Sure. Why not?” he says. You swap, and then you find someone else with $100,000 and make them an offer. And you do this swap again and a again, a nice lucrative business. Except there are some bad guys who want a piece (all of it) of your action. And then there’s the father of a woman whose youth you sort of stole. And a cop who knows more about youth stealing than he should and he’s looking for you.

What if some kids are telling their Grandpa how proud they are of him that he’s such a hero, and he says, “Ain’t nothin’ to be proud of here.” And the kids say, “But everybody says you saved the town, village, city, country, world, galaxy.” “Humph,” he says. “Maybe at the end I did somethin’ good. But that ain’t how it started. They don’t tell ya that, do they?” “What do you mean, Grandpa?” He sips his whiskey and tells them, “Once upon a time….”

What if  you were a retired criminal well into your 60s, but still vital, living nicely with your wife on your ill-gotten gains. Then you had a visit from a some of your old crew. One of the old crew is dying of cancer, because a particular doctor misdiagnosed him, possibly on purpose. He has a family that depends on him. So you agree to look into it and find a criminal enterprise way beyond what you used to do. So you all decide to go against the doctor and all the other white collars who are letting people die for their own gain. The old street-smart tough guys against  the new ruthless, boardroom smart guys.

What if there was a planet where the sentient inhabitants grew old in the usual way, but at a certain time they grew younger, Benjamin Button style. As the unaged they brought all their experience of growing and being old to their government, business and culture. How would that make said government, business and culture different from ours?

What ever your age, be nice to the oldsters. Because sooner than you think you’ll be one of them bitchin that them youngsters don’t give any respect, just like you.

3 a.m. light in the window

Okay, so you’re driving from here to there and it’s 3 a.m.  You’re cruising at 70 mph past a small town you never heard of and have no idea why it’s where it is. It’s the kind of town the phrase, Roll up the sidewalks at 9 p.m., was made for. It’s all dark but for scattered streetlights. You barely know it’s there until you spot a lighted second story window. With nothing on the radio but way past their prime Oldies, Country music, or some talk show host whose only agenda is to make spurious accusations with the intent of dissing someone in power, (you know who I mean) you wonder, Who the hell is up at 3am? And why?

Could it be as simple as a parent up with a child sick with a common cold, or maybe the kid discovered the Halloween candy his/her parents hid six months ago and decided to make up for months of lost candy time in one day? Maybe it’s not so simple. The child is dying and the parent is sitting up desperately trying to thinking of a way to save the kid. And to keep yourself awake as you blithely motor by, you wonder, “What would I do to save my child?”

Of course you’d take a second job, (if you could find one) or a second mortgage, (if you could find one) or set up a website to solicit donations. Who wouldn’t? But what if money wasn’t the problem? How far would you go off the grid, out of the box? If that old cliché’ A Deal with the Devil was a viable option, would you? There are other possible deal options. A lesser demon trying to gain some sort of street cred by recruiting humans to his/her/its thrall. Aliens who need humans to carry out some ambiguous (to you) plan. A sorcerer or witch with an agenda. (see below)

If the only way to keep your child with you was to have him or her changed into a vampire, would you? Did you see the movie Let the right one in? Think carefully. Maybe it’s a vampire kid who’s sick. He got hold of some tainted blood from a drunk methhead and it was screwing up his natural vamp immunity, and his mother is up practicing her Just say no to drugged up humans speech. Or maybe change the child into a werewolf? At least he/she could go out during the day.

That 3 a.m. lighted window could be as simple as a wife waiting up for her husband whose plane was late. The question of whether or not she has a gun beside her to blow that philandering bastard away when he walks into the bedroom is a question that will have to wait for the early morning news from the police blotter to answer.

And by the way, why are you driving past that window at 3 a.m?

IDEAS

See above.

What if it was a sorcerer or witch that made your kid sick then conveniently made himself (I’ll go with sorcerer, but witches can have the same magical problems) available to cure him/her. Cures like that of course don’t come free. Where’s the story in that?  At some future date he will need your help. Of course you agree. It’s your kid and he’s not the Devil, after all. He calls. You go. He wants you to kill somebody. And he’s scared. You try and cry for another deal. No new deal. You allow him to convince you that the woman he wants dead is an evil, scheming, murdering bitch, so to keep your kid well, you agree.  Besides, you got royally screwed over 15 years ago by your BFF/evil, scheming bitch and the thought of bashing in the head of an evil, scheming, murdering bitch has a certain appeal. So, putting aside any flashes of rational thought and downing a couple of whisky neats, you go see this monster all dressed up as a hot babe and…. This is where you have to decide whether you’re going to take the high road or the low road, the road less taken, the sorcerer’s  way or the highway. And that will determine what exciting, dramatic, humorous, emotional journey comes next.

What if there’s a lonely person in that room who’s tearily writing a suicide note, though she’s convinced nobody will ever read it, or care if they do. The window is beside her. It looks out on a cold lonely landscape just like the one she has inside her. Then she sees a car drive by, the first in hours. And for a moment her despair lifts, there is someone else in the world. She presses her face to the window  and her eyes follow you in that car as you turn off to stop at an all night diner, though you weren’t planning to. Suddenly, filled with a strange purpose, the woman dashes out of the room,  races down the steps, jumps in her car and speeds to the diner where she parks next to your car.  Inside, she sits at the counter next to the only customer, you. It takes a while, but, beginning with a simple smile and a “Hi,” a conversation begins. Where it ends is up to you.

What if two lovers are in the room? They keep the light on so they can always see each other. In a tangle of sheets they lay panting, not a care in the world, just basking in  the afterglow. A car drives up. Someone gets out, enters, climbs the steps to the room. This person has a gun. Neither the lover in the bed nor the lover hiding behind the door have a gun. Yet, the car is found two days later in the all-nite diner’s parking lot. It’s owner is nowhere to be found. At least for a week or a month or a year or….

What if you are in that room? Why, good or bad, would you be up at 3a.m?

Whoever is in that lonely room, thanks to Jazz Tales streaming on KUVO 89.3 in Denver www.kuvo.org –  Sunday nights at 10p.m. Mountain Time – Weird Nightmares episode. Check it out.

Please watch out for my new adult, young adult e-novel, Ancient Mariners. It should be available by end of August.

Destiny plus 6

A quick announcment: Hell Cop: Sneaker will be a free download on Amazon.com this Saturday and Sunday, March 31 and April 1. No fooling. Find it here. (It’s your Destiny. That sounds better than Fate, don’t you think?)

What’s your destiny, and do you even have one? And how can you tell? After all, no matter what you do, you can never know if it was of your own free will or just what Destiny, one of Dream’s  brothers in Neil Gamin’s Sandman graphic novel series, had written in one of his books.

Speaking of books and destiny – I recently finished the first draft of a short story that experienced an unplanned  growth spurt to 25000 words. Destiny made me do it. Maybe Destiny has the hots for beautiful French Accidental Vampires? Maybe it’s my destiny to become rich and famous by writing about Simone Gireaux’s first 350 years. I’ll never know until I try and you buy. (Sorry, couldn’t resist. It’s the long hidden, for good reason, huckster in me.)

Coincidence or fate, can you ever know the truth and could you handle it if you did. Like, you can never know if that person you had a one night stand with and then slipped out before they woke up and then, with some trepidation, ran into a few days later but they were only pissed because they wanted to ask you out on a proper date and they did and you ended up happily/unhappily married to was only a coincidence or Destiny looking at his Big Book of You and pushing you here or there with his Unfickle Finger of Fixed Fate.

The only way that I can think of offhand to KNOW if you fucked up your life on your own or if it was written in some big blank book by a pothead with a trust fund, would be to die and ask St. Peter, if you go that way, or Joe Smith the ticket taker on Captain Charon’s Cross River Excursion pontoon boat for an appeal. It’s your right, after all. That way you get to review all the documents and videos pertaining to your life and you should be able to ascertain why it went so bad.  If it went good, keep your mouth shut and take the credit.

One reason to believe in Destiny is that you don’t have to take the blame if things go bad. “Oh come on. It’s not my fault I’m  lazy and carry a few extra pounds which BTW I can take off any time, and nothing good ever happened to me, and I still live in my parent’s basement and that stupid manager at the video store won’t give me a raise to $8.25 an hour so I can get my own place and go to school and get married to my high School girlfriend even though she lives in an oceanfront mansion with her husband and three kids. It’s destiny’s fault. I’m the victim here!”

I think we’re all born with a do-it-yourself Destiny Kit. All you have to do is read and follow the instructions, even if the ones giving you the instructions (presumably parents) didn’t follow them because they believed that Dream’s brother had already written their life so why bother. Bother, man! Maybe Destiny has an eraser.

IDEAS

What if Destiny really did have an eraser? What would his price be to change yours? You know there’s always a price for that sort of thing. But what is it? Maybe you’d have to seek out a Fate Broker. It’s his or her job to go to Destiny’s secluded secret library and negotiate with the head librarian. There’s usually a task involved in these things. If you achieve your task then you get what you want out of life. If not, you go back one step. Make sure you read the fine print.

What if you weren’t happy with the way your life turned out and then you died. You’d been beginning to believe in reincarnation lately and thinking maybe you should do something good for someone else for a change when you died. Then you’re standing in that never-ending Purgatorial line waiting to find out if you get the golden escalator up or that rattley, stinky service elevator down, when you see stuck in a crack in the rough stone wall a business card. You take it. It’s for an attorney who promises to handle an appeal/assessment/refund of your destiny. Hmmm? Eventually you come across a pay phone, but you have no dimes (Inflation hasn’t caught up down there, yet.) A guy behind you has a slug on a string. You have the number, he has the slug. You call, make an appointment for both of you. He/she is slick and slimy – Angel, Demon, Soul? – and makes you fill out stacks of bureaucraticly official red tape, jump through hoops, (literally) and find witnesses (far too many are already in Hell. Hmmm). Finally you get your professional assessment of your destiny, and you find… What?! Your attorney urges you to sue.

What if you worked for Destiny? You had to make sure that what he wrote, happened as he wrote it. So you go to Life on a job and… fall in love. We all know the crazy shit that makes people do.

So we do have a destiny. But you’ll never know whether it’s Dream’s brother’s fault or your own. So just in case it ain’t him, better get to it.

Please watch out for the new novella whose title I don’t know yet. It was Mentor, then A Novice Vampire to go with the orignal, An Accidental Vampire, but neither one is quite right. If you happen on a novella by me and it’s about a Young Blood French vampire named Simone Gireaux, that’ll be it.  Young Blood. Hmmm.

Destruction + six

Destruction is the brother of Dream in Neil Gamin’s legendary Sandman series of graphic novels.

Destruction means everything or nothing. It depends on what skewed  viewpoint you’re looking from. In the story I’m writing now, (not right this second, because I’m at a point where I know the grand scheme of the thing but am not sure of the details so I’m writing this instead hoping the details will come in a dream or some such thing that avoids my having to actually figure it out for myself) a sequel to An Accidental Vampire which is doing very well, thank you very much, on Smashwords.com and KOBO, it’s almost (there’s some sex and violence, too)all about certain people out to destroy a particular person.

So for the group, the destruction of the man is a good thing as it allows them to get what they want. For the man, not so good, as he’ll be dead, with no vampire to save him. On the other hand, The Novice Vampire, (the probable title) Simone Gireaux, besides attempting  to learn how to survive as a vamp, is trying to figure out who the group is and destroy them. Her viewpoint is just the opposite of the group. Like most things, destruction has two sides.

While “Destruction” is usually considered a bad thing, it isn’t always. Consider the Nazis, or polio or smallpox or disco. Nobody sane wants those undestructed.  Sure, destruction can bring tragedy with it, but if “Death” is considered a form of destruction,  imagine if nobody died. Where would we put all those immortals? (see IDEAS below.) What if everything ever built – every cheaply built tenement, outmoded factory, monument, vehicle –  was still standing, running, or lying around in trash heaps two hundred feet high. You could probably build a stairway to the stars with the beer cans alone.

Self-destruction, while mostly a preventable tragedy if someone was paying attention, could, under certain circumstances, also be called Death With Dignity if certain people would butt out and allow it to happen in the dignified manner it deserves.

In my upcoming (as soon as my novice French vampire sorts everything out) novel Ancient Mariners two characters and their old ways die, not voluntarily, to make way for the new ways.  And so it goes, old ways, old things, old buildings, and most times unfortunately,  old people, must destruct to make way for the new. Being new doesn’t mean being good. That’s how evolution works, everything gets a chance.  If it works, it survives. If it doesn’t, destruction will rain down on your head.

IDEAS

What if nobody died, but continued to be born? Where would they go? Up or down? The possibilities are, if not endless, multiple. Sub-plots abound!

Going down. Digging caves and mines into the ground, deeper and deeper. Who knows what we might find?  Underwater, deeper and farther from shore with all its dangers and dramas, human, creature or natural. Who gets to live where? Where would the prefered neighborhood be? What conflicts might come to the deep dark? What destruction might they inflict on those weird bastards in Bubble 34 or Tunnel 28? You know that would happen.

What if everyone wanted to live underwater or underground and after a century or two nobody lived on the surface to see aliens land, thinking it’s a pretty nice planet, so they move in. What happens when they discover each other? Who destroys who? You know they would try. Unless some other not so nice aliens came along and the two Earth residents had to band together to fight their mutual destruction.

Going up. Population pressure forces migration. Space is the place. What if our big plans to migrate off world were destroyed by Aliens who did not want such a violent species banging about the galaxy? They didn’t interfere with us in any way except we were under house arrest. How would that work out? Who would step up to make an attempt to bust the blockade? Governments, corporations, individuals? What slimy, traitor sons of a bitches would work with the Aliens in return for special favors, that may or may not be what they promise?

What if the above blockade could not be broken and the population swelled and swelled till finally it reached critical mass and all humans became one Earth mind, the Mind of Gaia, so powerful they could destruct the Alien ships. So powerful we didn’t need ships, we could move the Earth itself.  And go find their planet. What if, humans being humans, some wanted control and then some others wanted control and the factions started to duke it out and suddenly they were not working together and became stranded in the literal Middle of Nowhere and they’d better start working together because they were drifting into a star where they would of course be very deconstructed. A bad thing for Earth, a good thing for the Aliens who were surreptitiously helping things along.

What if you wanted to destroy someone’s marriage, but your natural charm, wit, beauty, sexiness or deviousness wasn’t working? Maybe you’d go see that psychic palm reader just on the outside edge of town who might say yes they can help if only you’d do one little favor for them. And in doing that little favor that didn’t really seem so much you quickly find that you have much more to worry about than the destruction of some nice people’s marriage.

What if you were a  well-meaning, in your own warped mind, Sorcerer and you could capture the souls of suicides with the thought of since they wanted, at the time, to die, they’d make good cannon fodder, bombers, henchmen, puppets if you put their souls into regular people in a position to do your dirty work for you. Might work out until a few of them decided they hadn’t really wanted to die and in order to live again they had to destroy you. The title, The Suicide Wars comes to mind.

Any story, especially movies, that blows a lot of shit up, is good.

Any psycho, pyro, manic who blows shit up for the purpose of the destruction of life, property, or ideals, is not good. And therefore worthy of destruction themselves.

Without destruction, what have we? Sometimes good, sometimes bad, Destruction, like time, marches on, clearing the way for the new yet soon-to-be-old, sometimes causing tragedy, sometimes relief, but always a story.

P.S.

Read an e-book week is coming up. I have some to offer. Check them out over on the right there.

P.P.S

I’m looking for a photo or design of some sort to use as a header for this blog. Something that will catch the eye and represent What If? Ideas welcome.

Delirium plus six

Ah, delirious Delirium, one of the Sandman’s sisters in the Sandman series of graphic novels.

DELIRIUM 1. A state of temporary mental confusion and clouded consciousness resulting from high fever, intoxication, and shock characterized by anxiety, tremors, hallucinations, delusions, and incoherence.  2. A state of uncontrolled excitement or emotion.

So says my ancient (1982) copy of The American Heritage Dictionary. For an updated definition on my birthday in 9 months you could send me a new dictionary. Just throwing that out there.

Who among us has not experienced delirium, especially that intoxication one. Who? Me? And people wonder why I don’t drink anymore.

There’s high and low delirium. High is when my novelette Hell Cop: Sneaker had 146 downloads in 3 days when it was free for the Kindle from Amazon. Now a 146 downloads is barely a drop in the proverbial 5 gallon bucket of the  e-book world. But 146 of something is better than a zillion of nothing. I was positively giddy as I stared at the report, counting along with the numbers.  Two, even three, an hour! Ah the delicious intoxicating delirium of low expectations met.

Low is now, as I try to write a sequel to my An Accidental Vampire story which is doing well (the next step up from barely a drop) as an e-story. Like the vampire it’s about, it’s kicking ass (mine) and searching for names (All those 17th Century French people weren’t named Smith? Who knew?) I have a good start and I know the ending, it’s all that stuff in the middle that’s giving me  an anxious, finger twisting,  typing incoherent, delirium of failure. I mean, how hard can it be for a Young Blood vamp to find the murderer of a Duchess?

Love is high Delirium. Or low depending on which end of the relationship you’re on. Are you at that point where you bump into things,  ignore your friends, and generally walk about in a daze of happy delirium with pictures of your sweet Honey Bun dancing in your head and you can’t wait to feel them in that intimate way unique to  you two of all people on Earth?

Or, are you in that low delirium state of having been dumped where you bump into things, ignore your friends  and generally walk about in a daze of sad, painful, disillusioned, angry delirium, and ripped up pictures of that lousy, lying, bitch/bastard beat against the inside of your skull, and the only thing you want to feel is either your hands around sweet Honey Bun’s neck or that whiskey burn in your throat, or the blissful nothing of head to pillow and the blankets pulled over your head?

Which ever level you’re at, wait, don’t do anything stupid, especially those of you in the high delirium state, and it will all be better in the (some future) morning. Unless your (temporary?) bout of delirium causes some nasty form of  Destruction, (next post)  in which case you’re screwed and you might as well settle into Despair (last post.)  Unless, Destiny, (next next post) should you choose to accept it, has something else in store for you.

IDEAS

What if somebody did you wrong (broke your heart, broke your bank, broke your psyche) and rendered you suicidal? You were about to martyr yourself to your sad delirium when you realized that the only action that would make life worth living would be to destroy (murder the bitch/bastard!) the person who wronged you. And you do, and you get caught. Can you claim self-defense? Compare and contrast the two obvious sides of the question in a gripping, can’t put it down, fictional form. Extra credit if it gets made into a movie.

What if you were in a blue funk delirium brought on by disappointment, failure, loss, humiliation or any of the thousand other things that might bring on such a state of Why me? or What now? And then, you saw the future. Not some daydream or hypnosis induced fantasy – The Real Thing. You were happy and successful and… and.. HAPPY. You had everything you wanted – except it came at the expense of someone you knew. A friend, a family member, maybe that nice man down the block who always said “Hi” and had returned your new puppy when it got lost. All you had to do was carry on as usual and you were gold and they were fools gold. They wouldn’t die or anything so severe, but as you went up, they went down. You could change it, but that big Happy wouldn’t happen. What would you do? Something? Nothing? Or try and finagle a compromise? What would make you happy?

I’m getting delirious trying to come up with ideas that haven’t been done a 100 times before, like going through strange adventures then finding out “It’s all a dream.” Or finding out the strange stuff was real and the surreal boredom you thought was your life is actually your delirium, a refuge from all the strangeness. Sort of a reverse Walter Mitty effect. Or a strange person touches you and you experience a time of incoherent hallucinations and when you wake up you’re some – body, where, time – else. Or when you wake up you’re part of an unrotten Alien Zombie undercover army bent on taking over the world one bite at a time. clichés like that.

So, enjoy, or at least accept, your delirium, embrace it, wrap yourself up in it, because you never know if it might be the highlight of your life. Just to leave you with a pleasant thought.

An historical delirium of Vampires awaits my attention. Until Destruction comes, don’t let any strangers bite you.

It Suits You…Or Not

It suits you all to read a good vampire thriller, I know it does, and you do too. And this being your lucky day, I have  one handy, Blood Justice, in case you didn’t know already. Just because I’m a nice guy I’m going to tell (not show, sorry) you where you can find this fine tome, my third, you know. For those of you in the area, or wanting an excuse to see the Pacific Ocean, on November 6 at 2 p.m. I will be signing Blood Justice at the Mysterious Galaxy Book Store in San Diego. I had lines and lines of links to the various places where my book can be obtained (legally, anyway.) But one link will open up a wonder of other links to all the places a book buyer needs to know about. That being – http://bylightunseenmedia.com/bj.htm. Check the lower right corner.  I know you’re tired, or will be tired, of hearing about this great book, but,  like pledging for your PBS station, once you’ve pledged, you don’t have to feel guilty three times a year when they ask for money.  You know what I mean? Nuff said.

Everybody is suited for something. Some people are suited to be sales persons. (Can you feel my body shudder at the thought of being a salesman? Promise you’ll never mention Encyclopedia Britannica to me. I’m over that. Really, I am.)  Some are suited to be politicians. See above. Scientists, indoor and outdoor, teachers, we need more of those, too bad we spent the money for them on something else, business persons, actors, soldiers, sex workers, and worker bees, somebody is suited for all those jobs.

Writers, too. Some are suited (blessed?) to be bestselling, self-promoting, (and liking it, for God’s sake!) gad about, life of the party, conversational maven writers. Some are more suited to hole up in a dark room with Jazz in the earphones and write  stories for my… I mean themselves that no one else wants to read, and if forced to socialize prefer to stand in the corner and hope nobody wants to talk to them.

In Blood Justice (I’m sure you know what I”m talking about by now) the heroine (is that correct terminology or is it now PC to call all heroes, ah…heroes?) Justine Kroft is well suited to be a vampire avenger. She’s a strong-willed, successful, single mother with martial arts training, one friend, and nothing else to live for. It’s a no brainer she’d want to be a vampire to avenge the murder of her daughter.

Similarly, Simone Gireaux, a 350 year-old Vampire, is suited for her role. She, too, lost her family to murderous vampires (see the Accidental Vampire page, top right) so is willing to help Justine in her quest for revenge.

Teresa Diaz, Justine’s one true friend, also is suited to help Justine. Her daughter is missing, so she knows what Justine feels. Her husband and other two children have moved on, Teresa has not. She is a real “friend.” If Justine needs her help, she’ll help.

So what makes these women so well suited to do what they do? Nature or nurture? No doubt their past experiences shaped them into what they are today. But, all that nurture had their individual natures to work with. If Justine had been a shy, withdrawn, delicate child would the same experiences have led her to give up her mortal life to go after a bad-ass vampire? If Simone had been a weak, unintelligent (not, uneducated) cowering peasant woman, would she have been able to survive 350 years of superstition, ignorance and fear? Not likely. It’s Teresa’s nature not to forget her missing daughter and to continue to search for answers. Just like it’s her husband’s nature to put it behind him and move on.

Nature deals you a hand, nurture determines whether you’re suitable to risk a raise, or fold. 

IDEAS

What if a good girl hooked up with an unsuitable bad boy and tragedy ensued? As if you didn’t think of that first thing.  As if all the gender, age, class permutations of that idea haven’t been around since forever. It’s still as fresh as it was back when Mag met Ugh and he showed her his cave paintings. The private ones way in the back. It will probably still  be fresh when Magzet meets Zook2 and he takes her for a ride on his spacecycle, even though her parents forbid her to see that bum, out to his underground asteroid weekend home and shows her his diamond laser etchings. The private ones in the back.  So I think there’s still a story or two there.

What if a nice, but nerdy, plain-looking man actually hooked up with an unsuitable (at first glance) hot chick. Though she might be a flirty party girl, she’s one of the rare ones who can look beyond the geek exterior and see the good guy inside, and also see in the future that he’s going to be a gazillionaire one day, and she really does come to love him. Then the tragedy. She’s  assaulted, with extreme violence, and the guy, being weak and inexperienced and never having to test his bravery, can’t help her. Helpless,  he has to watch whatever  happens to her. He’s broken. He loses his niceness, his innocence. He doesn’t have a strong body, but he’s strong where it counts, between the ears. What would such a guy do to deliver suitable justice to the bad guy? Or, reverse the genders. How would that change the story?

What if young love happened but the parents disapproved, “He/she is unsuitable for my child,” he opined.  Another oldey but goody.  But what if the unsuitable one goes away and comes back as A: rich and successful – boring. Or B: A different sex. There’s that nature again. Maybe not so boring. Again, reverse some genders and sexual preferences and see what happens. And is the “child,” no matter how old he/she is, in on the secret? The big question is, will there be a happy or tragic ending?

Whatever’s suitable for you, go for it. Whether that includes vampires or not, thanks for your support.