I Have A Pretty Brain.

Posted on by

For those of you who just spewed coffee all over the screen, my apologies. That’s why there’s no print version of this blog: too much coffee on paper makes it useless. That and some of you would subscribe just to use it in the outhouse. I quail at that image, but it’s the truth.

Why would this face make anyone nervous?

Why would this face make anyone nervous?

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits! Oh yeah – grab a copy of Assault on Saint Agnes if you’re of a mind.

Why is my brain pretty? It’s obviously not the content, the picture above should disabuse you from that notion in a flash. I’m told it looks like one belonging to Abby Someone…

As some of you may remember, I’ve been part of an ongoing study at the V.A. Medical Center for several years. They’re studying PTSD and Schizophrenia. They gave me a letter saying that I’m normal and they need me for a baseline. Some of you have suggested that it’s actually because I’m nuttier than a Snicker’s Bar. I’m on the fence.

Anywho, the joy of having long term research subjects is that you can mine that information, stack new tests on the old data, and have a pretty good idea of what’s working and what isn’t. With the testing, not me. I’m an enigma.

Last week I got back from the Athanatos Christian Arts Festival (see this space Thursday for more info) and proceeded to immerse myself in all things V.A. On day two, I was at the University of Minnesota for an M.R.I. study. Again, layered on top of the tests I’d previously taken.

We found out several important things during the study. (I consider myself a part of the research team, versus glorified lab-rat.) The first was that when you cram anything as big as me into the MRI tube, you should probably spray PAM over all the surfaces involved.

I’m not claustrophobic. But I surely understand that a bit better after the test. I was shoved in there so tight that my shoulders scraped the sides as the tray pushed into the tube. I didn’t really care, but I’m sure that’s a panic attack inducer for a lot of people. I was simply warm and cozy. And deaf. The earplugs you wear to protect your hearing block out most everything.

So, there I was, taking tests while they zapped my melon with magnetic waves. Or, so they told me. It could have been any kind of radiation and I’d be none the wiser. I managed to stay awake, think mild thoughts when so instructed. Prayed, actually. Seemed like a good time for it. Then I mashed buttons when that was the gig.

The test resulted in some very spectacular images. All of which were perfect. Active to the max, no tumors, good responses, and very pretty. That’s what the young lady running the machine said. As in, textbook.

Now take a second look at that picture above. Textbook what…

See you Thursday!

********* ********** *********** ***********

 

Assault on Saint Agnes is now available. Just click this link to find all the options! (I recommend the autographed copy. It’s cheaper than from the big stores, I scribble in it, and you get it mailed within 5 days. We all win.

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.

Brenda S. Anderson Is Celebrating The Century Review!

Posted on by

Sorry about my being awol, but I’ve been a busy boy. And, I have a pretty brain. I’ll explain that next week.

In the meantime, my friend Brenda is giving away a fully loaded Kindle Fire with a copy of Assault on Saint Agnes preloaded – and some other peoples’ books as a bonus. She’s just passed the 100 review mark on her novel, Chain of Mercy.

Run over to her blog and enter!

The Snap Of The Last Piece Of Tape Broke Her Heart: A New Flash Fiction Piece.

Posted on by

First, a reminder that we’ve come a long way around here since this blog started, and I’m immensely thankful for that climb up the mountain. If you’re in the upper reaches of the central part of the country (Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illinois, Michigan) come on out for the festival. It’s only 2 hours from either Milwaukee or Minneapolis (or really, really close to that – sort of.)

Now the graphic. And then the original flash fiction promised in the title today.

************ ************ ************* ************** ************** ************

The Snap Of The Last Piece Of Tape Broke Her Heart

It had taken five hours to carefully pack the accumulation from 22 years working at that desk. Most people would find a lot of dust bunnies left behind some of the items after that long in place. Some would find dust badgers. She did not.

It wasn’t an obsession, or even a hint toward it: she was just a clean person by nature, and had regularly dusted and vacuumed all of the items in the cube. Where other people might be leaving behind an odd bit of dropped candy, a popcorn kernel, or some missing paper clips in the far reaches of the cube under a countertop, her cube reflected her approach to life: clean as you go.

The small squares of dark material on the fabric walls showed precisely where she’d pinned up sayings that reflected her philosophy. They didn’t change very often, and most were timeless. They were recognitions of her Lord and Savior, small pictures imbued with deeper meaning, and the occasional award certificate. Nothing flashy, but their absence from the cube wall was remembered with a dark patch that reflected the mood in the building.

23 years had passed in this space, and she’d been there for most of it. Today the carts filled with cardboard boxes of personal treasures trundled by her cube, the gentle rumble of the irregular wheels brining forth audible reminders of rough trips across parking lots and long-forgotten concrete ridges and floor plates encountered in other trips on other days.

She carefully wrapped her chair in plastic, bubble wrapped the tea cup, and stored the picture in protective folds of her lap throw. None of it was going to be stored longer than over night: the new office space would be waiting for her in the morning.

But tonight, the 64 square feet that she’d thought of as home for the last 22 years were pulling her deeper in a well of memorial gravity that those outside it’s event horizon couldn’t fathom. Coworkers had stood in that opening in the fiber walls and talked of new children, then grandchildren. Promotions had been celebrated with balloons and cake just forty-six feet away in the conference room. Deaths had been whispered about in the passage between cubes, coworkers who had gone home the night before never to return.

It felt like death tonight. A loss of years, youth, and friends. A life spent in service that was now shifting to a final location on that long trail that led to retirement.

The snap of the clear packing tape as she applied it to the last box took her composure with it. She choked back tears as she said goodnight to a friend who was working the late shift, looking on her world for one last time. For it was her world. For better, or worse, we all become creatures of our jobs to some degree.

Tonight that cube will be gone. The new tenants were already working their way down the aisle as each business unit moved out and onward. Tonight, that cube will just another 64 square feet of carpet that are much neater than the rest.

It’s all that remains to show a good person tended the space for 22 years.

Christian Arts Festival: Upper Midwest Must Do! @ACMArtsFestival Share This On Facebook & Twitter

Posted on by

There is a point in blogging where you have to stop and smell the shill. If you spend all of your time talking about your movie, audio book, novel, magazine article, and home-health care sanitary wipe line, you lose your readers.

I try very hard not to do that on this blog. I try to provide you with entertaining (or aggravating) posts that touch on topics you like, some spiritual stuff, and a bit of the straight shill now and again. Let’s face it: I’m putting out good dough to publish this… never mind. But when you buy a book, or come see me as Santa, you do allow me to spend the time and money that this bi-weekly train wreck demands.

My beloved publisher (and I truly mean that – he lets me run amok and almost never snaps my nose with a rolled up newspaper) has undertaken an arts festival in the middle of Wisconsin! Here’s the link and the logo:

So, here’s the deal: people complain that there’s nothing wholesome to do with their families. There are no “Christian” festivals, only ones loosely based on bad historian’s visions of the Renaissance. I have nothing against turkey legs, but for goodness sake, we’re serving Bratwurst. If you can find one decent human in all of “Sconnie” that wants turkey over Bratwurst, I’ll kill the danged bird myself and heat it on the engine of my car.

This thing is being held less than 2.5 hours from Minneapolis. Big, paved roads with no snow drifts. Nice people in the town. Fascinating speakers – he’s crazy, the director has given me top billing and three speaking slots. I’m writing this blog instead of preparing. No, seriously folks, I’ve got grade “A” material ready for this beast. If you’re an author, two of the three speeches are for sure of interest. General public? All three. The topics are the threat of weapons of mass destruction under Islamic control, writing about war for non-warriors (that includes police topics, and a variety of mystery subjects) that will be interesting to both readers and movie fans alike, and a final topic that I’m kind of proud of – writing about Biblical stories and how you can make the fit into the 21st century. Yup, promise them all to be riveting.

I’ll also be autographing books, taking pictures, and probably kissing babies and dogs.

Did I mention nationally famous musicians on Saturday? Or a dance party? Perhaps the other authors from the publishing empire we’re building would charm you senseless? I’ve read the books: these people are very good. I’m already a fanboy waiting to sit and talk to them all day.

In short, it’s a first time event, geared to people who want some wholesome family entertainment, in a place you can drive to from Minneapolis/Saint Paul. There are hotels and other places to stay nearby, and camping on site.

Come out and join us in Greenwood, Wisconsin August 4th to 7th.

I’ll be the fat guy with the beard in the writers’ tent.

I hope you swing on by. If you mention that you’re a reader of this blog, I’ll knock a couple of bucks off a copy of Assault on Saint Agnes and even give you a glimpse of the sequel. Yup, you won’t get that at the place with the drumsticks.

Whew! Glad We Vetted Trump’s Wife Early On.

Posted on by

Given the fact that Melania Trump possibly cribbed a few innocuous lines from a speech, I’m utterly refusing to vote for her for First Lady. I promise on my immortal soul, I will not vote for her.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits! Oh yeah – grab a copy of Assault on Saint Agnes if you’re of a mind.

Really? This counts as a controversy? I’m opposed to any First Lady (or First Man when the time comes) saying anything more important than, “I’m so glad you love what I’ve done with the decorations on the White House Christmas Tree.” Fini.

More times than I can count I’ve been seriously annoyed with all of the policy generated from this non-elected person. They are not my representative. They can sit quietly, hand out champagne flutes, or get the heck out of the limelight.

If we’d like to discuss vetting, and plagiarism, how about Joey Joe Joe Biden? A man who was forced to end his presidential run because he stole the campaign speech of a British candidate.

Don’t remember that, eh? Not surprising as it doesn’t fit the narrative.

Let us not get distracted. Melania Trump is not running for office. Hillary, who risked national security with her pursuit of power and terrible behavior, is a candidate. Let’s try and remember that little episode. An episode for which I, or any of my colleagues in the intelligence world, would have gone to prison. If you are willing to excuse her behavior on the basis of “she didn’t know”, just remember that that means she’s too stupid to understand the rules that millions of military members understand.

And she wants to run the joint?

Personally I hope Melania steals all sorts of additional stuff in the future. I think her accent is cute. Shrillary? I’d rather that my encroaching deafness be accelerated than put up with her screechy voice and cackle (while she lies her butt off) for four years.

Thank you for reading. Keep up the good work!

********* ********** *********** ***********

 

Assault on Saint Agnes is now available. Just click this link to find all the options! (I recommend the autographed copy. It’s cheaper than from the big stores, I scribble in it, and you get it mailed within 5 days. We all win.

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.