Not "Happy" Memorial Day ... although I suspect I've unconsciously been guilty of that one.
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| Yes ... things have been worse. |
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| It's funny how these tombstones so seldom display race, class, or political leanings. |
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| From the Chain O' Lakes Festival Parade, several years ago. |
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| There's nothing I could add to this. |
When a novel begins with the total destruction of Earth and everyone on it ... where do you go from there?
In God's Bolt, Ron Forsythe goes to the only survivor: scientist Helen Southcote. Alone on a United Nations sponsored space station, she has to witness the asteroid impact that destroys the world, and live with the knowledge that she's the only survivor.
She doesn't handle it well.
Helen's only companion is an Artificial Intelligence running the station that she doesn't really like, and her only comfort the knowledge that the search for intelligence elsewhere, her life's obsession, was successful: There is life out in the rest of the galaxy. Unfortunately, it's so far away that it's no hope of rescue, and unlikely to even know of the Earth's destruction.
![God's Bolt by [Ron Forsythe]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41n8pg1gUZL.jpg)
https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Bolt-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B07QB9CFJL
For the rest of the novel Forsythe flashes back to Helen's life, the creation of the space station's A.I., and the discovery of the massive asteroid that sneaks up on Earth, along with efforts to divert it. At the same time we follow Helen's recovery from despair. She's seen her friends and family all die, and is now stranded on a space station that can never land. The best she can hope for is to survive, alone, and watch the world burn beneath her.
Not the most upbeat life in the world. Still, God's Bolt is fascinating in the same way so many disaster stories are, even if the "Who will live?" question seems settled right from the beginning. The writing can be repetitive at times, especially when it comes to Helen's breakdown and the fight against the asteroid--I couldn't help thinking it wasn't necessary to say it was huge so many times, for instance. But it was an interesting, optimistic, look at what the world could be in a century and a half or so. Interesting enough that I was sad to see it go!
Helen is the main viewpoint character in God's Bolt, and I found her well rounded, especially as we get to follow her through her life and dedication to the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. That's a subject I assumed was an unnecessary side story, but just about everything is tied up at the end.
I also found the efforts to stop the disaster, complete with infighting in the world's government and the rise of a doomsday cult, to be fascinating, even knowing their efforts would ultimately fail. All in all a fun read, or at least as fun as planetary Armageddon can be.
By the way, improbably ... there's a sequel.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark
R Hunter"
By the title, I mean at the Albion Fire Department you can sit down to eat ... I mean, at the Albion, Indiana, Fire Department. I've been to Albion, Illinois--very nice firehouse. Where was I?
Oh, yes. For the last couple of years the AFD's annual fish and tenderloin fry--which I'm going to shorten to fish fry, because the fish is yummy--has been the drive-through type, due to COVID. This year we're going back to the old ways, where you can sit and eat, or come on in to get a carry out order, and isn't that exciting? Yes. Yes, it is. Because the fish is seriously yummy, and I understand this year dessert is a cupcake (well, not just one) courtesy of Boo's Knead for Sweets.
The chips and applesauce are fine, but who can pass up Boo's Knead for Sweets? Me, neither.
Here's the Facebook events page:
https://www.facebook.com/events/1125758564936177
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| It'll look something like this, only with people. |
The prices are $12 for adults and $8 for kids. That might seem like a lot, but it is all you could eat--just stop eating for, say, five days before, and I'm sure you'll be happy with the result, if you don't pass out and miss the whole thing.
Be there anytime between 4:30 and 7 p.m. on Wednesday, June 8th, and get fed before you head up to the Chain O' Lakes Festival on the courthouse square. We (the AFD) are at 210 S. Fire Station Drive. Don't accidentally go one block over, because the jail food isn't nearly as good, or so I've heard.
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| The building looks like this, only without the old firefighters standing in front of it. The 9/11 tree is still there, though. |
Oh, and while you're there, ask about buying a copy of our book, Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century Or So With the Albion Fire Department. Proceeds, yes, go to the AFD. Remember, every time you fail to support your local fire department, one of Santa Claus' hairs gets scorched. Save Santa's beard.
Well, here's still another movie that doesn't need my help to be successful. In fact, the most helpful thing I could do is warn casual moviegoers: "Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness" is not what you might think.
The movie opens with Doctor Strange, a magician played with the usual skill by Benedict Cumberbatch, trying to protect a teenage girl from an attacking monster.
It kills him.
Next we find Doctor Strange trying to protect a teenage girl from an attacking monster. This time he succeeds; it's the same girl, but a different Strange.
Things get more Strange from here. The good Doctor's attempt to save the universe--well, all the universes--takes him from one dimension to another, fleeing an unexpected enemy far more powerful than he is. Along the way we get some old favorites (was the first Doctor Strange really six years ago?), and cool cameo appearances.
Consider that before you take your kids. This isn't just comic book violence, and the people who die aren't just background characters. It gets graphic, and it gets, well, horrible. It's also a great addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe and a good movie in general, so don't let the genre stop you; just be aware.
My Score:
Entertainment Value: 5 out of 5 M&Ms. By now you've figured out that I don't go to the movies unless I'm already pretty sure I'll like the flick. As with many Marvel movies, I marvel (see what I did, there?) at how they manage to put together a tale like this in a way that can be followed by the average viewer.
Oscar Potential: 4 out of 5 M&Ms. Naturally it's visually great, and has amazing performances, especially by Cumberbatch and Elizabeth Olsen. I'd love to see all these characters again--including the dead ones, which in a multiverse is always possible.
This being Indiana, there could be a foot of snow on the ground by the time you read this, but at the moment it’s been pretty nice in between the thunderstorms. Wait, let me check …
Huh. Heat wave. Better than winter, when snow is some kind of permanent nightmarish superglue. Nobody ever froze to death in a thunderstorm, unless they hid in a chest freezer. That would freeze your chest.
The only bad things about warm weather are pollen and bugs, and pollen can be medicated. I like to think of allergies as a luxury tax for being able to walk outside wearing less than eight layers of clothing.
One of the first signs of spring – other than any part of my skin being seen outdoors – is the appearance of budding plants and flowers. That burst of color, a visual shock after months of white and various shades of dirty gray, does more to cheer me than all the chocolate in Hershey.
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| This is nothing to sneeze at. Actually, it is. |
Maybe you could say my love of spring is like a red, red rose. I came up with that all by myself, honest. Well, I stole it all by myself.
I need to see that color outside, because inside I’m the kiss of death for a plant. There’s a graveyard of flower pots in my garage, sad rows full of bare earth and dead, dry stalks. In the plant community I’m known as the Mark Horseman of the Apocalypse. The last time I walked through a botanical garden, twelve species went extinct.
I’m the Darth Vader of plants; I just choke them out.
And yet, just outside the house, plants thrive. Like the spiders who invade my home every year, they live for the thrill of being near danger. Mind you, I had no idea what those plants were, until I found a phone app to identify them.
According to the internet, the various plants around my house include:
Lilacs, which produce one of the most wonderful scents since fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. I bought lilac scented laundry detergent over winter, but it just wasn’t the same.
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| "I wish Mark would get out of the way so I get a picture of the lilacs." |
Narcissus, a variety of daffodil. Narcissus sounds so much more exotic and interesting, though. Narcissus is also a character from Greek myth who fell in love with his own reflection, and thus is a hero to many in Hollywood. Things ended badly for Narcissus; but then, the Greeks wrote tragedies, not comedies.
Tulips, a flower that first came from Holland, Michigan. Some people from the Netherlands visited Michigan, and so fell in love with the flower that they made it their own and also nicknamed their country Holland, which seems like some kind of intellectual theft, to me. But revenge is sweet: For a time tulips became so valuable in the Netherlands that they replaced the national currency. Their entire economy crashed when some kid took his thumb out of the dike, looked around, and said:
“Dude. They’re flowers.”
At the moment my tulips are in hiding, waiting to see if I go crazy with the lawn mower or weed spray. However, a line of eye-poppingly colorful flowers eye-popped up against the neighbor’s house, where presumably they’re safe from me. Silly flowers.
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| "Just stay closed until he goes away." |
Then there’s forsythia, a bush that sprouted some bright yellow blossoms. Someone told me I shouldn’t trim the forsythia, but it grows so fast that one of its branches once stabbed me in the leg as I innocently walked by with the garden sheers. One year I didn’t trim it at all, and a film crew came by and paid me a hundred bucks to use it in their low-budget monster movie, “Attack of the Sixty Foot Sythia”. I don’t know what they left out the “for” for, except maybe that “S” sound is scarier: Stormtrooper; Scythe; Senator …
I also have some roses, but as of this writing they haven’t bloomed. Maybe they’re standing by with the tulips. Waiting. Plotting.
Oh, and dandelions – how could I forget dandelions? Weeds, you say? Nonsense! They’re harmless and colorful, they make necklaces and wine, and what the heck is wrong with that? Those are flowers, believe it; the narcissus lovers are just jealous.
In any case, any bloom that doesn’t immediately kill you is better than a snowdrift.
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Introducing: Willa Quinn Repine!
A little over two weeks old in the video and first photo and four months in the other pictures, Willa joins big sis Lilli as my second granddaughter. That means the ratio of grandsons to granddaughters is now even.
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| I tested her grip; she's got a strong one. |
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| Grandpa is boring. |
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| "So ... what does the little human DO? Other than put out strange smells?" |
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| Everybody smile for Emily! Lilli dotes on her new little sis. |
Everyone's doing well. I mean, I've had a few twinges here and there, but everybody else is.
You can read a slightly different version of this blog on the newsletter:
https://mailchi.mp/0baf142adc82/our-new-book-is-out?e=2b1e842057
Or, you may gotten the newsletter three days ago, in which case ... never mind. But don't forget our author appearance this coming Saturday at the Art and Author Fair, which you can read all about here:
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2022/04/were-coming-to-kendallvilles-art-and.html
And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog.
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Okay, this might get complicated.
As all fourteen of my regular readers know, my first published novel was Storm Chaser. When my publisher, Whiskey Creek Press, heard I was writing some short stories to promote the book, they offered to print them as a separate collection. That was the unfortunately titled Storm Chaser Shorts. I'm explaining that because chances are you haven't read it.
Storm Chaser sold so well Whiskey Creek Press published a sequel, The Notorious Ian Grant, which I personally think is even better. Later we self published The No-Campground Girls, which is set in the same universe and includes some of the same characters.
Then Whiskey Creek Press was bought out by a larger publisher. They continued to offer the books for sale, but otherwise forgot them and never reduced the prices even years later--prices I thought were too high for an unknown author to begin with.
In addition, Storm Chaser Shorts suffered from being too short for my publisher to do a print version, and many of my readers prefer print. Sales were poor, like me.
Eventually I got the rights back for all three works, which is why you can no longer find the e-book versions for sale. The new publisher still offers the print versions, despite the signed paperwork reverting the rights to me.
I told you it was complicated.
Our plan: to reissue all three books independently, with new covers and a lower price. We got delayed by COVID and other issues, but ....
Wait for it ....
This is also going to take some explaining.
The original title for the short story collection was no good, and I now refer to it as "The short story collection title that must not be named". I can see some browsing customer now:
"Wait ... Storm Chaser Shorts? Is that, like, padded underwear for storm chasers? Is it for protection, or scared bladders? Do they make them in boxers?"
So for our reissue we changed the name, and Emily designed a new cover, but wait--there's more!
We wanted a print version, and, if the original was too short for that ... let's make it longer! So we did. And now you can order either the print or electronic versions on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09YGJ1XR6
In fact, the new version, Storm Squalls, is almost twice as long as the Shorts. Of the sixteen stories, six are original to this new edition (they tend to run longer than the originals, too). Seven of the stories take place before the events of the original Storm Chaser, while three aren't set in the timeline, so if you haven't read any of the Storm Chaser books you can still check those out. Sadly, it looks like we won't have the books available in time for the April 30 author appearance, but we'll have a pre-order sheet for anyone who stops by.
This is getting lengthy, so I'll talk more about it in a later blog. But just so you know, later this year we'll reissue Storm Chaser and The Notorious Ian Grant, also at a lower price. Hope you'll check them out!
I'm sure you all added our upcoming author appearance to your calendars and phones, and possibly had the date tattooed backward to your foreheads. I mean, all those authors and artists together--it'll be Indiana's social event of the decade. (Although I'm told the world's biggest greased pig chase and cornhole contest will be next year in Muncie, so we might be in second place.)
So there's no need to post the link that announced the Kendallville Art and Author Fair would be at the Kendallville Community Learning Center Saturday, April 30, from 11 a.m. - 2 p.m. If I did, I'd put it here.
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2022/04/were-coming-to-kendallvilles-art-and.html
But I won't. It's our first author appearance since late 2019--I suspect you know what happened after that. Even before that we didn't do them often, so I started a list of what we needed to bring. Then I realized, surely I already made a list? I do that. I went back and sure enough, there it was.
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So, what does every
good author, and most of the bad ones, need to bring?
1. Books. This is kinda important. If you do a book signing, you should have something to sign.
2. Change. When one goes somewhere to sell books, one must assume some
books will be sold. Thus: change for those high rollers who walk around
with hundred dollar bills. (I don't know any of them, either.)
3. A calculator or, these days, a calculator app. After all, the whole reason I became a writer is because I can't do math in my head.
4. Tylenol. You'd be surprised. No, probably you wouldn't.
5. A camera. My wife took a photo of me signing a book
for an Indiana State Senator who, apparently not having read my columns
about politicians, was very nice. You never know what you might get a
picture of when you're out in the public.
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| Maybe I'll have a new book to sell that day; you never know. |
(But if you can't make it, find our books at:)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
“With love for mankind
and hatred of sins.” – St. Augustine.
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| If it's a sin to use a religious holiday to promote your products, I've got a lot of company. |
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| Groot finally took out that SUV that never signaled its turn! |
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| There's something to be said for rebirth. |
We're getting a new radio system in our dispatch center, and the guy training us on it claims we could use it at home, on a laptop.
This is a great idea in theory: It would save me gas, and clothes would be cheaper if all I had to buy was pajamas. Of course, video 911 is coming, and callers might not be comfortable with my Star Trek onesie.
Actually, callers might not like seeing me no matter what clothes I'm wearing.
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| "You got what stuck WHERE?" |
This is my thirtieth year celebrating Public Safety Telecommunications Week, which is in April between the snow storms, brush fires, and tornadoes. Since the title's so long, I started calling it PSTW, which is kind of ironic because PSTW sounds a lot like PTSD. Everyone who's dispatched longer than seven years gets to know both. It's science.
Here's the strange thing: I'm burned out on this job. Once too often I've picked up the 911 line only to hear hysterical screaming. Once too often I was the last person someone ever talked to. Once too often the name of a victim or suspect ended up being someone I knew.
Yet it's still the best full time job I ever had.
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| I actually do wear a cape, but only at home when no one is watching. But yay, cookie! Better keep it away from the dog. |
(To be fair, my part time radio DJ job was nothing but fun, even though I kind of sucked at it. But that job, in a problem similar to my writing gig, barely paid enough for the gas to get there.)
Maybe it's because we're actually doing something important. That's a weird thing to define when it comes to jobs, because the best paying ones often are the least important. When a family member is having a heart attack, you don't call your favorite sportsball player for an ambulance. For that matter, when your water pipe bursts you don't look up the number for Beyonce, or Reba McEntire. (Actually, Reba could probably help.)
But that's the way it goes, and at least I've never been stalked by a 911 groupie.
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| I know the artist! |
If you've considered being a dispatcher, I'd encourage it. It's way more important than being a security guard at the Oscars. (Ahem.) Also, you have to be really bad at it to lose your job--the demand for dispatchers just continues to go up.
Still, it can be just a bit stressful. When I'm talking to new people, I like to give them a few tips they don't get in formal training:
No matter what the caller says when you pick up the line, never reply with "You gotta be kidding me."
Always know if you have a live mic. Always.
Try to avoid cursing in dispatch--see above about live mics.
Well ... at least try not to curse too much.
If you have to scream in the bathroom, turn the water on first.
Yes, you are a first responder. When 911 rings, you're the first to respond to whatever the problem is. All the others have the advantage of knowing that problem, because you find out.
Hold your temper if your 911 caller starts with, "This isn't actually an emergency ..." Deal with it if the business line rings and it is an emergency. So it goes.
If you have to bang your head against a wall, choose a different place each time, to avoid damage to the concrete.
And finally: If the melatonin gives you nightmares, try sleepytime tea. Sleep is precious.
On a related note, that idea of dispatching on a laptop from home? No. I already have dreams in which I come downstairs and find the dispatch center has been moved to my living room, and I'm the only dispatcher. Besides, I like my Star Trek onesie, and Star Wars pajama bottoms just wouldn't be the same.
