Has this ever happened to you? You put your trust in someone, send the something to read, and they turn around and sell it. Now, they are putting themselves at risk, since I own the copyright on everything I publish.
So now, do I not have trust in relationships, I do not have trust in people. Period. Maybe some you can understand me. Trust is hard to come by, hard to give away. Once again, I gave my trust to someone, and they betrayed me.
Most of you know who I am, and that's fine with me - I have some many good friends here.
But I have to say, be careful of whom you put your trust into, because in the long run...well.
Ok, this is a negative blog, But I am going to speak my mind, blast it.
You all know what I am talking about, so no more talk.
I am simply angry, but not at you.
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Monday, March 19, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Just some thoughts on writing..
Hello, Michael Shorde here. I must say, I am quite pleased David has decided to include me in his next anthology with The Lost Book. It is an honor, especially coming from a teacher like David Rhodes. He has a lot say when it comes to writing, too much to include all of it here.
You know, I was supposed to be teaching him, yet he has turned the tables on me. Even his first draft work amazes me, but when he gets down to brass tacks it is a totally different story. For one, he likes to let the characters dictate what and how something is going to happen. Fictional characters telling the story.
Of course, I know many writers do this, but he takes it one step farther. Now, you must realize, as his best friend, I cannot reveal all his secrets. I can say this - his imagination has run wild. He has so many scattered tales, he oftentimes does not know where to turn first.
I urged him to turn to revising and editing before he had too much to handle (which he already does.) Thank goodness he took my advice, but it was not just me - suddenly, he met someone who creates the most fantastic covers, and that, I think really urged him on.
He has been working himself to the bone to finish a lot of work, and we all owe him cheers for that. When he decided to make A Season of Drake into a series, I was taken aback. A very good decision, if I must say so. And he will do it, too. I know he has already been working with his proofreader, Cindy, on an excellent location for this next story.
As you may know, this is the one and only vampire tale David has ever written. It may just turn out to be much more, yes, much more. However, I must mention that this was Dominic Drake's idea - after all, he is the one living the story. Again the character dictates to the writer what is going to happen. This is just the tip of the iceberg.
So please, as I have been teaching David, he is suddenly teaching me and many others. He is a good writer to listen to, a good one to follow. I can say no more at this time, but bear in mind, there is a lot more going on inside that brain of his than we know.
Listen, and pay attention to your dreams.....
You know, I was supposed to be teaching him, yet he has turned the tables on me. Even his first draft work amazes me, but when he gets down to brass tacks it is a totally different story. For one, he likes to let the characters dictate what and how something is going to happen. Fictional characters telling the story.
Of course, I know many writers do this, but he takes it one step farther. Now, you must realize, as his best friend, I cannot reveal all his secrets. I can say this - his imagination has run wild. He has so many scattered tales, he oftentimes does not know where to turn first.
I urged him to turn to revising and editing before he had too much to handle (which he already does.) Thank goodness he took my advice, but it was not just me - suddenly, he met someone who creates the most fantastic covers, and that, I think really urged him on.
He has been working himself to the bone to finish a lot of work, and we all owe him cheers for that. When he decided to make A Season of Drake into a series, I was taken aback. A very good decision, if I must say so. And he will do it, too. I know he has already been working with his proofreader, Cindy, on an excellent location for this next story.
As you may know, this is the one and only vampire tale David has ever written. It may just turn out to be much more, yes, much more. However, I must mention that this was Dominic Drake's idea - after all, he is the one living the story. Again the character dictates to the writer what is going to happen. This is just the tip of the iceberg.
So please, as I have been teaching David, he is suddenly teaching me and many others. He is a good writer to listen to, a good one to follow. I can say no more at this time, but bear in mind, there is a lot more going on inside that brain of his than we know.
Listen, and pay attention to your dreams.....
Saturday, January 14, 2012
The Lost Book - Parts nine and ten
I took close care of David for a week – bringing him broth and liquids to bring him back. I was only the last night we spent in front of the fire that I learned all.
“Michael, I didn’t kill the nurse in the asylum,” he said. “ It was Cthulhu – I escaped into the being before anything could be done.”
“How? How did you manage to get the book in my hands?”
“I escaped long enough to give him the manuscript. I told him only one copy was needed. I paid him well – in the ensuing days, I didn’t know what would happen.”
“What happened?” I trembled as I spoke. I dropped my drink onto the carpet. “What is happening to me?” I implored David.
“I am not sure, but it’s my turn to take care of you. Off we go.”
David, under his guiding hand, his insufferable charm, cared for me for several weeks as the wound on my arm grew more pronounced. The doctors who visited had no clue, and just what were we supposed to tell them? I am growing dim now, so I cannot complete this narrative. It is up to one person…
10
David Rhodes
Michael has now taken a turn for the worse – his skin turned a beige-green, and he responded to no food or water.
Yet, he still spoke.
“You must do it now, David. End it,” he crackled.
“I can’t, Michael – there must be some other solution!”
I threw the sheets away from him. The appendices were pierced through his skin in every imaginable form, writhing, almost crawling. As his head and body grew smaller, he once last time implored me. “David, it must be now. Now, I say! Hurry!”
I ran downstairs to the kitchen and chose the largest knife I could before hastening back into Michael’s bedroom. His eyes were blackening, and more were forming on his forehead.
“You must do it now!” he exclaimed.
He took his right arm and placed it on his forehead.
The appendices thrust from his body, ruffled the blankets. I raised the tool of death or mercy (whichever you want to call it), and brought it downwards….
Friday, December 9, 2011
Michael Shorde's The Lost Book - Part Eight
I immediately heard the snarling of the dogs behind me, and I turned, holding up the book as my only weapon. They came swiftly, tentacles reaching out for prey. I held up the book, and a white light engulfed them. They fell dead in their tracks. I recalled what the Others said: the chain of life must take its proper course.
They were not violent, but we were. Our violence would lead to peace one day. The dogs lie dead, and I did not care – I started down the path of the main cavern, or part of a living being as I was told. A one eyed beast appeared, and then another. The first tried to snatch the book from my hand, and in my anger I snatched the knife and thrust it into its eye. It grabbed at its wound and fell trembling to the ground. More appeared, and I was in such a state that I worried not about the book, only my savage instincts. They came at me and I pushed the knife into the closest one. It bent its head to look at its wound, and I stabbed directly into its face. It barely had time to look at me before it fell dead. The others fled as I stood there in defiance.
I had not time – this I knew, for time here was different. I swiftly entered a large cavern infested by the spiders. I then turned my attention to the book. I held it before me, and saw a shadow far into the cavern. I do not know if it was David or apparition, yet I realized it was one of the older ones. The shadow held its arms up; I knew what it was trying to tell me.
I snatched the book up, held it aloft as the creatures came at me. They were everywhere, crawling along the sides of the cavern, and it was then I saw a figure I thought I would never see again.
It was David!
He was trapped against the pink, fleshy wall, hardly able to move, for he looked at me with sickening terror I have never seen before; he tried to speak, but I had no time. I didn’t know if destroying the spiders would also destroy him.
I quickly retreated as they followed – a swarm of them, I tell you, everywhere. I raised the book and took my stance. Flames shot up from everywhere, scorching my skin. Yet, I held my stance. I did not expect the circumstance – on of the bastards got through somehow and bit me on the arm. I had no alternative.
I struggled for my knife and stabbed it deeply into the center of the predator and into my own arm. Blood was flowing from my wound as the thing released its grasped and fell dead to the cavern floor. I had no choice – I continued forward, and heard a great roar from within the huge cavern. I knew what it was, and I was determined to show it the power of humanity or die trying.
There it was – Cthulhu. Huge and resolute in destroying me, this I knew. I held the book up once again and forced all my energy at the thing. Its huge tentacles rose to the top of the cavern, coming alive with light. It forced upon me a power I have never felt before; and I was already weakened by my wound. The tentacles, they were everywhere, surrounding me, burning me as I had burned it. They surrounded me an embraced me so tightly, I knew not what to do.
I saw the sad figure of David on the wall, and at the same time saw the gigantic maw of Cthulhu open – I didn’t know what to do, and then I heard a voice…
Into its mouth! Now!
I thrust the only tool I had powerful enough to defeat it into the black throat in front of me – the book.
“DIE!” I screamed, and it released me. It thrust itself back, releasing me; I lost my senses for a time, but I felt the thing dragging me along. I was helpless.
I saw the strange shadow appear again, and I could tell it was smiling. I took my knife from my belt and buried deep into the beast’s head. It released me and retreated to an one known place. I quickly ran up to David and used my knife to carve him from his prison.
He had no injuries I could find, only weakness. He could barely walk; I had to nearly carry him out of this prison of disgust and ungodly creatures. The book was gone. It had served its purpose. We finally made it to the verges of the cavern, and he tried to speak, but I stopped him. And then we were standing in a light snow flurry – we both looked at the cavern as it vanished. I dragged him inside…
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Michael Shorde's The Lost Book - Part Seven
I began to think I was inside a huge being itself. Alive, aware, and absorbing all the life it could from others. Was this the case?
Now, I cannot promise a true description of what happened, for it was all too surreal. As I was sure the dog-things were gone, I headed for the main chamber. Something grabbed my shoulders and yanked me back, turned me around; I was looking into the face of something indescribable, something I knew that human minds were not prepared for. I surely would have gone insane had David not prepared me.
I felt several pairs of arms grasp my body, yet I could not tell if they were arms or otherwise. This being sure was on the other side of the thin veil of sanity, and I sensed it knew this, and was trying not to inflict harm unto me. It released me, and I moved not, as it had anticipated.
I stared at the creature, trying to comprehend exactly what it was I was looking at. It leaned forward, its face changing all the while into different forms, and I felt it was searching for one I could understand. Finally, it did find one I could understand. I was staring at the face of…
…David!
Its shape-shifting body continued to with its swift variants, too swift for me to focus on only one. David’s face whispered to me. “David told you not to come along this path. It would be dangerous.”
“Yes, he told me so, in the book,” I said, holding it out for the being to see.
“Lean forward,” the David face said, and I did as I was told.
Accept, accept. Let that special part of your mind accept what you see as reality, as did David’s.
I emerged as if from a dream, and the thing that stood before me was no longer shifting. It was showing me its true form. And yet, its true form was still something that the human mind would not understand for ages.
“I need to save my friend.”
“We know, and you will. It is why we empowered the book. It will not kill Cthulhu, but it will push him back long enough for you to free David. He is almost one of us now, and he must be the beginning.”
I started to comprehend. I spoke only with my mind. “Can you help me?”
“I cannot. We are not a violent race. The chain of life must take its proper course.”
“But he keeps you trapped in here!”
I sensed a smile, but could not see it. “We are not trapped in here. We stay here until we believe the time is right to expose ourselves, to help humans live again in peace. It is not up to us to stop the wrath of the Great Old Ones. It is up to you. To David.”
“But how do we do that? How do you expect two men to carry out this mission?” I spoke aloud, for I was frustrated. I was confused as to what it was I was supposed to do.
“Take David and he will show you. He has become as us, and you are becoming. Show me the book.”
I stretched out the book, and what I perceived to be hands took hold of it strongly, but not out of my grasp. A white light filled the book that we held between us, lit up the cavern, and I saw others standing around us as if in prayer. I feared not, my mind not confused; in fact, I felt gladness in my mind and heart. I knew all would be fine. I just needed to find David.
“And find him you will,” the being said, reading my thoughts. “I have empowered the book more so than I did with David. You will destroy creatures on your path, and we understand this is the way of humans as we know them now. We do not commend such acts, but realize it is the way to the future.”
I looked around at the tunnel, the flesh, and asked, “What is this? Where are we? This sure is no regular tunnel or path; it is more like a living being.”
The thing twisted, shifted, and said, “You are learning, Michael, for this is a living being. The living being.”
“But-”
“Go! Go now. The book is your power. There are the spiders and dog-things, and others you will encounter. Destroy them with the book. Or with that crude weapon you carry.” I felt behind me in my belt – the knife was still there. “Yes, we know about that. You are only trying to save your friend. He is our friend, too. Go!”
I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly found myself back in the main cavern. I walked forward, unsure of what to expect in my quest to save David. I only knew it had to be done. My mind was adjusting, remembering: accept, accept. I lowered my face and moved onward.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Michael Shorde's The Lost Book - Part Six
I plodded ahead, the smell pervading my senses, the visions becoming more conventional than I had expected. David had it right all along, for here I was among things not part of our world, yet I became less bothered with each step.
Where was David?
I stopped and opened the book. I heard a strange screeching emanating from farther down, and I swear I heard the screaming of a human. The sound echoed along this passage, this throat, for it seemed exactly what this was – a throat.
Ahead I saw another passage on the left. This was not the passage he spoke of, I was sure of that. Nonetheless, I slowed down as I passed it. There were strange noises coming from within, noises that sounded familiar. I stopped and looked around; the cave/throat was shifting, undulating, and I saw the bodies of people on the sides, stuck as if some slimy glue was holding them in place. Their mouths moved, but I could hear only a slight plea: Help me! Please help me!
There men and women trapped on the sides of the cavern, naked with their arms spread out. Helpless, they were, but I could not resist but to help these poor strangers, especially since I knew not the extent of their suffering. I pulled the knife from my belt and approached a man hanging in the goo. I tried to cut through, and he pulled one arm loose. I recall how he smiled at me just before the pinkish flesh swallowed him up; it had sensed my interference and had slid over the man with a sickening wet noise until the man was gone. I was shocked, taken aback, but tried to hold onto my sanity. There were others begging for help, and I told them, “Please, just wait a little while longer, and I’ll get you out!” They protested with moans and weak appeals. I could do nothing. I shoved the knife back into my belt, and turned my attention to the second cavern. I knew now what the sound was, however, I did not know how I was going to deal with it.
The spiders!
They suddenly appeared, scuttling along all sides of the cavern – they were even moving along the very top. I could not count how many there were, but apparently this was a nest of some kind, for they must have heard me, and those trapped against the wicked walls of this throat.
I held up the book, and a bright spray of light spread out among the spiders, and they started to flame up like fires. Regardless, they kept coming, and I grew frustrated. I thrust the book forward and in my mind I thought, die, you bastards. Die!
There were small flames everywhere, and yet, I spied a few slipping past me to the far wall. They crawled up and bit the people trapped there – I was helpless; I could not use the book for fear of harming the people hanging in the pink goo. I rushed up and grabbed a spider, hurled him to the ground. I pointed the book at him and he burst into flames. One by one, I snatched the spiders off the people and fried them. I felt beaten as I stared at the tiny clusters of flame that soon burned out. I thought I was done with the mayhem, but from the cavern came the snarls of something entirely different.
They appeared in the dim light of the tunnel, far back in the dim glow. They were dogs, and yet not dogs in the normal sense of the word. As they grew closer I became frightened, and yet intrigued that such things could exist.
Their bodies were that of large dogs, yet their heads were bundles of tentacles, waving and twisting around, almost hiding the mouths. One opened its maw wide, and my heart leaped – it was large, seemingly its entire head, with two rows of pointed teeth. It then closed the mouth, tentacles swinging around as if in anger.
I ran down the cavern, aware of the threats behind me. I lifted the book and pointed it at the dogs – the yellow light shot out in thin beams, striking each of them. They whimpered and fell (I believe there were five, but I was a little busy to count), yet each one struggled back to its feet.
I rushed farther down and saw the third cavern on the left. David told me not to enter, lest I get lost, but the dogs were again gaining distance. I glanced around and saw more bodies stuck to the pink, fleshy walls, more of the spider crawling among them and chewing off pieces of skin. It saddened me; I held up the book and thought, destroy those bastards! Fry their legs right off!
And just as I thought would happen, the spiders caught flame, but so did the people. I lowered my head. They were too far gone for it to matter anymore. Large parts of their bodies were gone and yet they still begged. I believed they were begging for death. I used the book and destroyed everything on the wall, scorching even the flesh. It bulged in and out as if in pain, and I heard an ungodly screech from farther down the cavern. Whatever I have done had apparently affected something down there, and I knew what it was.
The dogs came barreling around a corner, tentacles whipping around their moist, black bodies. At the moment, I saw no choice; I ran into the third cave, looking over my shoulder to see if the dog-like things had followed me. They stood at the entrance, eyeing me (though I could see no eyes), and tentacles reaching for something that was not there. They circled around for a while before turning and walking back in the direction from which they had come. I was taken aback by the writhing extremities that made up their heads. I gathered my thoughts, my sanity, and gritted my teeth together to strengthen my mind, my thoughts. I would not let these things weaken me.
So, I decided to explore the cave. I am sure David would have been angry, but my curiosity got the best of me. I traveled onward, seeing not out of the ordinary except that of the walls – pulsing, undulating, yet free of any creatures or people for that matter. I was quite pleased at this latter; I did not want to see any more suffering.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Michael Shorde's The Lost Book - Part Five
As I moved deeper into the cave, the light grew brighter, an unnatural pinkish glow. I discovered a cave to my right, but did not enter for David’s explicit instructions said to avoid the third cavern on the left. As I considered this, a low growl from behind caused me to whirl around to face whatever thing had crept up behind me.
The thing was about half my height and covered with gray, scaly skin. In the center of its face was a large singular eye, just above a mouth exposing pointed teeth of all sizes. A low guttural growl emitted from its throat as it bared more teeth. I took a few steps back and it followed. I determined that it was attempting to chase me into the cave, or it would have surely attacked me by now.
The book is your power…
I held the book out in front of me, and the thing instantly cowered at the sight of it. “What is wrong, you ghastly thing? You don’t like the book?” I held it facing the atrocious being, and it cringed, trying to hide its face. “Look at me now! Look!”
As it looked, a beam of yellow light shot forth, clothing it in a bright yellow aura. It screeched and tried to run; nonetheless, it was too late. The light absorbed what flesh there was left on the thing, and its bones fell to the ground. The book was warm, nearly hot, yet I was able to hold it. David was right – the book was my power. Tendrils of steam rose up from the bones as I walked farther into the cavern.
The walls began to change color, and the deeper I explore, gray rock had turned into a fleshy pink that undulated and gave off a foul stench. It was more of a throat, a throat to the other Kingdom where David awaited me.
There were things stuck to the sides of the walls as in a spider’s web. These were things I had never seen before, except a one – eyed creature that had managed to find itself trapped. A spider abruptly scurried down and attached itself to the thing, and I heard a sickening sucking sound. The skin of the creature constricted, and its eye burst from its socket. The spider immediately went to the socket and began to suck up the fluid. I could take no more, and I wondered how David had survived the horrors. It must have been the acceptance he spoke of, pure acceptance. I decided I would accept it, too. I would keep my sanity.
I stood steadfastly and took in my surroundings – I purposely stared at the atrocities pinned against the pink surface of these walls – they were no longer hideous. They were simply beings from another place, and my mind, being intelligent as it is, simply accepted all that I saw. I felt strength grow within me, a more powerful me, and I wondered; this must be what David did to keep his sanity. He always did have an open mind, and now it may have saved his life. And if he had not allowed insanity to corrupt his mind, then I, too, can protect myself the same way. These were living, breathing (though I knew not about living and breathing – it was purely conjuncture at this point, but I would treat it as so). These…things, freaks would die no matter what it took.
I realized that it did not take a very strong mind to challenge what lie ahead, only a mind open to such things. I actually envied David for having glanced at these things and retained some kind of sanity. He had even seen another dimension of unthinkable creatures and survived. But now he needed help. Cthulhu must be powerful, indeed – and I was close to meeting this creature face to face.
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