Eric Butler's Blog, page 40

Trying new things can be fun and scary. If you succeed it is a good time but if you fail or worse have strangers reject you without explaining exactly why...that can sting. I experienced it twice today as I finally heard back from two contests I entered around a month ago. Writing is a weird thing and sometimes a story can go past any stipulations you may have initially set. That's fine if you are writing for yourself or something general but some contests are very specific. I even posted a story on here earlier, The Grove, because it went past the word limit of 1500 words. These two contests fell under flash fiction. Apparently, there is a large group of readers who can't handle more than a few hundred words and every action, emotion, and revelation must take place in a very small amount of words. The good thing is I lost and can now share them. The bad thing is well...I lost and losing sucks. On the bright side, I feel like both helped me be a better writer and I will keep entering these contests. I hope you enjoy them... The first contest was to tell a horror story in 50 words. The winner was going to be announced on Halloween. They got 4500 entries and took them longer to decide than they expected. Here is my entry... A Wake Cindy lay on her side, hugging her swollen belly. Tears rolled down her face as the doctor droned on about why these things happen. Her husband’s hand rested on her shoulder but offered no comfort. All her focus was on the gnawing sensation inside her as the zombie apocalypse began. The second one was a little harder. This contest was timed. It also had three criteria that had to be met. The contest provided you with a genre, a specific action, and a word assignment. You would be emailed your information and then had twenty-four hours to get a story back to them. This time I was allowed 250 words. I forgot I signed up and on Oct 4th I received an e-mail with a link to discover what my three things were. Genre: action/adventure - Specific action: applying a bandage - Word: anonymous. "Okay I got this," I thought as I hammered out 250 words and sent it in. The nice thing about this contest is the judges give you feedback on what they liked and what they didn't like. From the three judges I had, their main complaint was I didn't provide them with enough information. Since the limit was set by them, I have to shrug it off. I like this little story and might revisit it so I can flesh it out. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. The Wyvern Eye Jackson glanced over his shoulder, wondering what Jessica was doing in his backpack. "You're bleeding," she said as she rooted through his bag. She grinned as she pulled out a bandage. "See, I told you we would need this." He grunted as she wrapped the shallow cut on his arm. He hadn't even noticed the steel bite into his flesh during the last clash with the anonymous guardians of the temple. All the studying they did before heading out to find the Wyvern Eye and nothing hinted about nameless, faceless watchdogs. "Good as new," she said as she tied off the bandage. He offered a smile before turning his attention back to the door, the only thing between them and the remaining guardians. He took a deep breath and fished the Eye from his pocket. "Here," he said, handing her the gem. "Once we open the door, I will engage and you will run to the plane and leave." Jessica shook her head, "In together, out together." Jackson smiled at their motto. It had gotten them through many an adventure, but not this time. "Just go, I'll follow if I can, but don't wait longer than a few minutes." Jackson motioned to the door as he shifted his grip on the sword he picked up somewhere in the tunnels. Jessica swung the door open and Jackson sprang forward. The clang of steel filled the tunnel as Jessica slipped out. Gripping the Wyvern Eye against her chest, she sprinted towards freedom.

Today is a special day. It's the anniversary of one of the greatest things to happen to me, the birth of my son. I better throw in my wedding day in case the wife is reading this…and I was at the 49er vs. Cowboy game when T.O. took the star...so a top-three event at worst. Any way you slice it, November 18th is one of those life-changing events. This is the 17th such celebration and I wonder where the time went. It seems like yesterday that I watched my pregnant wife walk up a steep flight of stairs at the movie theater, so we could see a movie before the little bugger showed up. And as she stared daggers at me as our friend asked why she didn't use the elevator, I thought this is nice, and immediately tried to use popcorn as a distraction. *Author's note — when we went to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets days before the baby's scheduled inducing, we used the elevator. We eventually had to schedule the day the baby was coming out as the little bugger was dug in and didn't want to leave. It was turning into a Pacific Heights situation, and we wanted to get ahead of it before he released the roaches or tore up the floors. So November 18th, we were prepared to send in a swat team and evict the boy. Now he had other ideas. He had everything he needed and wasn't ready to leave. So after hours of labor and nothing happening, the Doctor decided we needed to pivot to a c-section. And we were rushed into an operating room. Now if you know anything about this type of stuff you may be aware that once they give you the meds to dull everything, they can't turn around and give you anything else...like the medicine you might normally get in a scheduled c-section...or none of what I just typed is true, and we just fell for it. Maybe they wanted to introduce us to parenthood; here you need to experience this all at the same time - worried, scared, excited, no control, and feel everything while being completely numb to it all. I spent the whole time in delivery trying not to see anything and wishing for the old days when the guys just sat in the waiting room, and now I was standing in an operating room with a sheet the only thing stopping me from seeing the insides of my wife. So I did the only thing I could, I focused on her face and tried to be what she needed; no more funny guy, I needed to focus on being strong, soothing, comforting, and most importantly I needed to make sure not to puke on her head, pass out, or run screaming from the room. I'd be lying to say it wasn't one of the scariest moments because although my wife was numb from the initial shot; she could still feel what they were doing. If I was a better writer or if I braved a peek behind the curtain, I might be able to provide a wittier description but I didn't need to see anything but my wife's face and her tears to know how it was affecting her. While I thought the hours of non-productive labor took forever, that few minutes of surgery seemed an eon. By the time they had my son out and the wife sealed up, I felt like I had run a hundred marathons, and I had just been standing there. They pushed me out of the room, wheeled the wife away, and I shocked my mother-in-law by hugging her and letting all the pent-up fear and excitement out. *Author's note — But not too long, I followed the guy code of immediately forcing all emotion and feelings back down after the allotted time allowed. They came and got me, so I could walk into the "baby" room with Hunter. They announced his name and weight as we entered: Hunter, 9 lbs 11 oz. The other dad's in the room stared at me in horror. They all had little dainty girls, not giant monster babies. The fathers moved, so they were between my giant baby and their little princess, resigned to the fact they may have to sacrifice themselves to protect their young in case Hunter became hungry. Of course, I thought he was the most beautiful baby boy ever. *Author's note — looking back at pictures, I have to wonder if they released some sort of hallucinatory gas into the room since he sorta looked like an overstuffed sausage. Funny, there must be another one of those gas leaks because he’s 17 and he’s still the most beautiful boy…a little bigger, way too smart with a quick wit and quicker mouth. Fathers aren’t as quick to slip between him and their princesses since he’s no longer monster-sized. They say the Lord will only give you what you can handle. I assume at any moment we will find out our son can fly or pick up a truck because he has to be one of the strongest people I know. The Lord sure knew what I could handle, and he delivered on November 18th, 2002. He gave me the greatest gift I would ever receive, my son.

So I've set up a contest to celebrate my first novel coming out on Dec 13th 2019. You can enter to win a signed paperback version of my novel, The Shadow Within and a hardcover copy of Crystal Lake Memories - The Complete History of Friday the 13th. The contest will run until 12/12/2019 with the winner announced on my site on Dec 13th! Enter for your chance to win at https://sub.ericbutlerauthor.com/rele... Bonus - previous subscribers to my site already have an entry to the contest and new subscribers will get an extra one as well. I will contact the winner by email to get your preferred mailing address

I've been dying to share what I've been working on as I get closer to releasing the first book, The Shadow Within. Of course, nothing ever works like it's supposed to and I've been in IT/marketing hell. So while I am unable to share everything I'm preparing I can share some pretty cool things...in my humble opinion of course. So first I want to share the release date...December 13th, 2019. It's a Friday so I can always blame that when something blows up in my face last minute. The book will be available to order on Amazon as a paperback and for the Kindle initially. After I make a little more headway I may branch out to some other e-readers. However, if you want to read a free PDF version of the book, I have it up on Booksprouts.co as a part of the ARC program. You can request a copy of the book but you have to leave a review as part of the program. It will be available there until November 28th. You can check out the requirements here. I plan on running a contest and hope to have the final information any time. As soon as I do, I will share it so everyone can enter. If you are already signed up to this site you will get 1 entry. Now to some of the fun stuff. Below you will find the front cover. I also am sharing some videos I made to advertise the book; I have a 30 sec, 60 sec, and lastly the full one which runs under 2 minutes. Short and sweet A little longer but just as sweet Explains it all but stays sweet

Since Doctor Sleep is coming out this weekend, I thought I'd share a little known Stephen King gem with you. Let me be honest, I'm not a big fan of the "King" of horror. I feel like he's had more misses than hits but he has written some iconic horror properties so I guess he can keep his title. One of the things he wrote is an old-style crime book called The Colorado Kid. Now this book is not horror, but one of those projects where a famous writer steps away from his genre and dips his toe into another pool. In this case into the Hard Case Crime book series. If you look at Amazon it gets mixed reviews but I can't tell you if it's good or bad. I haven't read a King novel since the 90s because he hasn't written books I find interesting or entertaining in a very long time. Now, this isn't a cry for all his fanboys to rush into the comments section to call me names and argue with me - although feel free to if it makes you feel better. It is simply my feeling on his stuff after Needful Things. I've gone back and reread some of the earlier stuff and some of it's good. And while Doctor Sleep was written during the time of my self imposed hiatus, I still plan on seeing it since I am interested in Danny as an adult. Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way, I can move on to the reason I'm here...to offer you a Haven from your boredom. A 5 season show called Haven that you can find in its entirety on Netflix. While the story expands and evolves over 5 seasons, it has its foundation in The Colorado Kid...just not the book. The creators took the name, Colorado Kid and made it an unsolved murder and that's where the similarities end. Now since it's a Stephen King "inspired" (so loose it's falling apart) show they mix in a horror/fantasy element to form the body of the show. IMDB gives a great show description. "Many in the coastal town of Haven, Maine have a dormant curse or "trouble" that could trigger at any time for any reason. FBI agent Audrey Parker, the sheriff and the town's black sheep must deal with the troubles' deadly effects." While the show is well written and filled with actors that you will recognize from SyFy, Acorn, and Hallmark; it's the three characters above that make the show so worth watching. The story arcs for all three characters are interesting and unexpected while keeping the show engaging and entertaining throughout all 5 seasons. And even though there are times the show gets dark or travels down a "horror" path it never jumps over the line and keeps the story more in the SyFy realm of TV. If you are bored and looking for a show to watch, I recommend giving Haven a shot. I think these characters will win you over pretty quick. And while none of the seasons are particularly long, you just might miss your hourly visits to Haven after you finish the last episode.

My first book is complete. I have the interior designed for both eBook and print. I have finalized the cover and should have it and some promotional items in the next couple of days. After confirming with my marketing staff, led by my wife and with Totoro the husky in an intern position, I've decided to use Amazon primarily for the first book. After a bit of time, I may expand the eBook version to some of the other platforms but honestly, the entire process is exhausting and quite overwhelming. This hopefully will make it easier for me to learn as I push forward with this whole writing book phase. The last few weeks have been filled with watching videos, reading articles, and generally falling down rabbit holes as I try to figure out the best way to approach the release of the first book. And of course, during all this, there is little time for writing. But I see a light at the end of the tunnel...as long as I land on my feet and not my face. In the next week or two, I hope to share my plans for the book, The Shadow Within...including ways to get a copy for free or discounted in the near future. I'm 12000 words into my next book about the Pope Lick Monster, a goat-man monster that terrorizes Kentucky and the first of a Kentucky based horror trilogy. I also am working up what I hope will be a series of novels that focus on a Red Riding Hood-like character but in a world much darker than anything the brothers Grimm imagined. I plan on continuing to share more of my shorter stories on the site, and I am working on a continuous series that will be showcased here. Once I have it ready to start, I will post a new installment every 2-4 weeks. So if you haven't signed up to my mailing list, please do so you don't miss out. Or follow me on Facebook, you can find the link at the top of the home page.

It's the day before maybe the greatest holiday we celebrate as humans. A holiday where you get no time off, no gifts, and no feast...unless you like to eat candy. It's always been a holiday for the kids, in fact as a child of the 80s I remember most parents doing one thing...handing out candy. If you were lucky, or unlucky depending on their parents' skills, your mom or dad helped make a killer costume or at least drove you to the store to pick out the half mask and paper-thin jumpsuit that acted as a costume. And a Halloween activity that I never did much as a child but now look forward to as an adult is Pumpkin Carving. Truth be told my desire to participate was nonexistent at first but I've embraced it wholehearted the last few years. My friends and family gather together the day before Halloween and carve pumpkins. They are left with the Grandparents and lined up on the driveway for trick-r-treaters. We've done this for 15-20 years and at the beginning I would do trick pumpkins like the too much to drink pumpkin or a pumpkin that was just triangles. Then I graduated to the simplest pumpkin patterns I could find but at some point, it clicked and I began to do obscure, hard to place pumpkins as a test. Let's see if anyone can figure this out! Of course, there's always someone, but that's the fun of it. I even began doing multiple pumpkins a year just to get in all the ones I wanted. I only go back so far with the pictures but I wanted to share some pretty cool (if I do say so myself) Halloween pumpkins. I haven't decided what I want to do this year. It takes about 30 minutes of checking with everyone to make sure we aren't copying one from a previous year, but once I have it carved I'll add it to the comments. I did 4 more this year to help use up the pumpkins so they wouldn't go to waste...

I started this for a publication looking for something spooky but with a hard cap of 1200 words. 2700 words later I completed the story and decided instead of cutting it down, I'd just share it here. Alan struggled to keep his eyes open. He was on hour nine of an eleven-hour trip and caffeine no longer helped. Even so, Alan sipped from his thermos as he listened to a nameless voice drone on about current events. He preferred music but this far out he rarely could find a station that played anything except the oldest of country songs, his kryptonite. As Alan neared the end of the country road he reached over and grabbed his map. He flipped on the dome light and glanced over the folded page. Is it a left or right? Even when he drove this route regularly he never could remember, and it had been years since he last visited. A movement through his headlights grabbed his attention from the map; startled, he slammed on his breaks. "Oh shit," he yelled as the car slid out of his control. He fought with the wheel as he pumped the breaks. The car turned sideways as it spun off the road, slamming into a grove. Alan's head smacked into the window and his world went black. A noise slipped through the fog, soft at first but with each passing second it gained in volume until his head ached from the blaring sound. Blinking his eyes, Alan sat back. Silence. He gingerly rubbed his forehead, shocked to find blood on his fingers when he pulled them away. It took a moment for Alan to realize that noise had been his horn. Wonder how long I was out. Glancing at the dashboard, he read 1:08; a couple hours. He fingered the knot on his forehead once again, using the rear-view mirror to assess the damage. Last thing I needed tonight, but I guess I'm grateful no one was hurt. He winced as he applied too much pressure to the cut, well no one else. As he sat in the cold car he replayed what happened. A shape darted out in front of the car...and I missed it? Slowly nodding, he leaned forward peering out the windshield. While it was darker out here than in the city, the full moon reflected off the snow and added to his headlights. He slipped the car into park. Lucky the car's still running, I'd have frozen to death without the heat. Alan shivered at the thought. He flipped the brights and gasped. Just off the side of the road lay a huddled form in the shadows. Scrambling to find his phone, he powered it up. No service...figures. Three days with no service out here in the boonies, but at least the flashlight app still worked. Slipping from the car, Alan paused as soft cries came from the mound. He stepped over to the side and stopped short when his light fell on a rocking woman. She held something cradled tight to her chest and moved back and forth, shifting from sobs to cooing noises. The surrounding snow was dark with blood. Maybe I did hit her. "Ma'am?" Alan called out, "Are you all right?" She quieted but continued to rock. He stepped closer, and she recoiled, slipping to her side. "It's okay," he said, squatting down and outstretching his free hand. "I won't hurt you. Please, let me help." The woman's eyes shined in the moonlight and Alan shivered as she stared at him. He wanted to blame the cold, even though there was no wind. It was as if she drained the heat from him simply with her eyes. He shook his head; I must have really hit my head hard. Alan scooted forward, sliding on his boots without standing. "Can I help?" The question hung between them as he inched closer, but she made no move to escape. She simply lay in the darkened snow, watching his every move. His shivering became more violent as he moved closer. Alan's arm shook as he reached out and placed his free hand on her arm. "You're chilled to the bone," he said as his own teeth began to chatter. "Are you hurt?" He studied her in the light from his phone. She appeared to be in her late teens; her pale skin almost translucent in spots. Long black hair hung in clumps around her face and shoulders. She wore an old fashion night gown that stopped above her ankles. It was an off-white color, but Alan suspected the outdoors had something to do with that. He moved the light to her bare feet and hissed. Bloody gashes covered them, making them almost black. "Jesus," he muttered, moving the light back up. Her dark eyes never left his face. Alan wondered what she cradled so tightly. "Are your arms hurt?" Surprisingly the woman shook her head but made no other motion to help him understand. Is she going to freak out if I try to see? A moment passed before he decided to ignore it for now and moved closer. The woman shrank smaller, a soft whimper escaping from her lips. "Oh, sweetie...it's okay. But you can't move on those feet. Might explain why you're just lying here." He said, moving his hands closer, slipping them under her and lifting. She rolled tighter, shifting herself towards his chest. She doesn't weigh a thing. He strode quickly to the car, the cold starting to seep into his bones. Opening the back door, he placed her on the seat and hustled to the trunk. Alan pushed the open button and waited for the pop. The trunk swung upwards, and he used his phone's light to help the small trunk bulb. Shifting a few bags around he found a blanket, a few bottles of water, and the first aid kit. He closed the trunk with a slam. He jumped as he realized the woman stared at him through the back window with large eyes. Irritated at his reaction, he moved back to the door and opened it. "Okay, well I hope this helps," he said as he held out the blanket. "It was my son's favorite when he was little." Looking up he noticed she held her bundle tight and made no move to take the blanket. Alan offered a slight smile and leaned in, wrapping the blanket around her. Alan squatted by the open door, enjoying the bit of heat he felt from the vents. He studied her a moment. Her dark eyes continued to stare at him, but she seemed a little more relaxed. Although the blanket covered most of her up, he could tell her shoulders had relaxed, and her hold appeared looser around her bundle. "So, I have some water and a first aid kit for those feet. Will you slide them out of the car, so we don't make a mess?" The woman scrutinized him before nodding slightly. She scooted over the back seat until her feet stuck out the open door. He offered a smile as he reached down and grabbed her right ankle. Alan counted to three before slowly pouring the cold water over the soles of her feet. She closed her eyes and issued a soft sigh. He glanced at her face, surprised at how calm she was as he washed the dried blood and dirt from the gashes. He switched to the other foot, before pulling out some ointment and bandages from the first aid kit. Alan rubbed the thick gel over the cuts and bound each foot in a roll of gauze. Once both were secure, he turned the woman, so he could close the door. He scurried to the driver side as the wind picked up. Slipping in, he rubbed his hands together and pushed them in front of the heater. "So of course there's no reception," he said, watching her in the rear-view mirror. "Hopefully the car's okay, and we can move the darn thing out of here." Their eyes locked and Alan sighed as his body refused to warm up. He put the car in reverse and gently pressed on the gas. The car lurched backwards a foot before stopping. He could feel the wheels spinning, and he slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, he put it in drive. The car slid forward a bit but stopped with the same results. "Well...shit," he mumbled. It was too cold, and he was too tired and possibly a little concussed to be trying to move the car from the outside. He leaned over the passenger's seat to grab the map from the floorboard. A click and a blast of cold air forced his attention to the backseat. The woman was gone. Alan sprang from the car and turned his flashlight app back on, spinning in a circle. She was nowhere to be seen. After glancing in the back seat one more time, Alan stomped over to the place he discovered her, but found nothing. I must have hit my head much harder than I thought. As Alan hurried back to his car, the road lit up with a truck's high beams. They quickly dimmed and Alan stood by his car. The truck stopped and the window rolled down, Patsy Cline's voice carried out to him. Alan grimaced but moved closer. Now is not the time for your music hang-ups, he reminded himself. "Thanks for stopping," Alan said as he spoke through the open window. The driver, an older man with a white beard, nodded and put the vehicle into reverse. "If you move over, I'll back up, and we can pull you out." Alan hurried out of the way and the man placed the back of the truck next to Alan's back bumper. He got out, holding a length of rope. "Before I tie it up," the man said as he moved in front of Alan, "I wonder if you saw her?" "Her?" Alan asked, a flash of worry turning his stomach to jelly. "Oh you would know." "Then no, I guess not. I was driving, got tired, and then woke up in the grove." The man studied Alan's face before nodding slowly. "Good, cause I don't have time for trouble." Alan wondered what that meant, "So who is this 'she'?" The man stayed quiet as he wrapped the rope around the bumper and then his hitch. "Most people say she doesn't exist but too many have seen her...and those people know nothing but misfortune. Some whisper she's the victim of abuse by her folk, others say she was a willing participant, but they all agree she's a teenage mom who escaped the local loony bin back when we had one." Alan had no idea what the man was talking about. No building matched anyone's idea of any insane asylums in this county, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. "Every single person who crashes into that grove comes across her this time of year. Hell I almost didn't stop but you're just standing out here like nothing so maybe you're just a lucky son-of-a-bitch. I'm just glad I found you when I did." "Why's that?" Alan asked as he slipped into the car and put it into neutral. "Cause anyone who spends the night here, ends up missing or frozen in the grove like her." The man stalked back to his truck without another word. Alan gripped the steering wheel and waited. The truck moved forward and the rope grew taut. The car held for a moment and then came free. Alan steered as the truck pulled his car back to the middle of the road. The man got out and started to untie the rope. Alan grabbed his wallet and slipped back out into the cold. "Hey, can I give you money or anything for the help?" "Naw, happy to help," the man said looking anything but happy. "Just stay on the road and be careful. It's not safe this time of year. Better if you remember that the next time you drive through these parts." The man nodded and hopped back into his truck. The brake lights illuminated everything in red and Alan waved as the man pulled away. Shaking his head, he hopped back in and put the car in drive... ***** Alan struggled to keep his eyes open. He reached over to grab his map. He flipped on the dome light and glanced over the folded page. Is it a left or right? He never could remember when he drove this route regularly, and he hadn't been out here for years. A movement through his headlights grabbed his attention from the map; startled, he slammed on his breaks. "Oh shit," he yelled as the car slid out of his control. He fought with the wheel as he pumped the breaks. The car turned sideways as it spun off the road, slamming into a grove. Alan's head smacked into the window and his world went black. Alan's eyes fluttered open to the sound of tapping. He blinked a few times, hoping to clear his vision. Tap, tap, tap, the sound mimicking the pounding in his head. Tap, tap, tap, Alan put his palms against his eyes and pressed. A small amount of relief came from the pressure, but the tapping continued. Slipping his hands down, he glared through his fingers. Seeing nothing outside the car, he fumbled with the dome light switch and the car went black. Tap, tap, tap. Turning his head to the passenger side he blew out a sigh in relief. He made out the shadow of a branch broken in the crash, swinging back and forth into that window. Tap, tap, tap. "Jesus," Alan said snorting in relief. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and winced. No wonder my head hurts, he thought as he fingered the knot he found there. Alan frowned as all this felt so familiar. Squinting he tried to replay the day in his head but only saw flashes. He wondered how close the hospital might be and if he could make it in the car. The insane asylum should have an emergency room or at least a doctor. His head tilted in concern. What was he thinking about? There weren't any buildings like that out here, specialized or not. Alan flipped the light switch back on before turning the key in the ignition. It struggled for a moment but turned over. Blowing out a long breath in relief, Alan closed his eyes. Where ever I go, I need to do it soon... Maybe I have some aspirin in that kit. Tap, tap, tap...be happy to get the car away from that tree. Opening his eyes Alan sighed as his teeth began to chatter from an intense cold, and he put his hands in front of the vents. Hot air poured out but Alan became colder. Tap, tap, tap... Alan looked to the right but the branch was no longer there. Tap, tap, tap... Turning his head to the left Alan let loose a startled yelp as a young woman stood by the driver side window. He blew out an exaggerated breath and rolled the window down. "Man, you knocked a year off my life," Alan said with a forced chuckle. "Are you okay?" "They would only let me see her for feeding," she whispered so softly he struggled to hear her over the heater. Alan leaned closer to the window and said, "You know my son had a blanket just like that." "Wasn't fair," she continued as if he never spoke. She glanced up, her dark eyes seemingly soaking up all the light from his vehicle. "Let me help you," Alan said as he moved to open his door. "It's so cold and even with that blanket, you have to be frozen." As his hand gripped the handle, the car lost power and the car plunged into darkness. Moonlight filtered through the grove but only offered shadows. He fumbled for his phone and turned on the flashlight. He shined the light out his window to make sure the woman was far enough away to open the door, but she was gone. "What the hell?" Alan asked out loud. He turned the ignition, and the car started up after a small delay. The vents blasted him with cold air. He flipped the switch for the dome light and froze. The woman stared at him from the back seat, her bundle tight against her chest. He could see it squirm as she raised it to her face to rub her cheek against the rough material. Alan returned her stare, unable to tear away from her dark eyes. "They would only let me see her for feeding," she said, her voice drenched in despair. "Is that fair? She's my baby, not theirs. So I took her and ran, but we didn't get far..." she trailed off, her eyes shiny with tears. Alan shook his head, vocal cords frozen as the temperature continued to drop. The bundle began to make small sounds, crying for warmth and substance. The woman offered a sad smile as she glimpsed down. "We never get far. It's so cold and I'm too weak," she said, her voice cracking with despair. "My baby is so hungry." The woman returned her stare to Alan. "You've been so kind...will you feed us?" she asked. Suddenly she sprang forward; her open mouth exposing rows of razor sharp teeth. The lights of a truck flashed over the grove, exposing a car with the back door open. The driver slowed as he glimpsed a woman walking on the side of the road caring a bundle tight to her chest. He rolled down the window, "Miss... Do you need anything?" She turned her head and smiled. Blood poured down her chin, dripping into her baby's open, hungry mouth. "No thanks;" she said as she glided through the snow, "We just ate." © 2019 Naked Cat Press. All Rights Reserved

The San Fransisco 49ers (the team I love) have embraced the need for emotional support animals and their positive effects on the mental health of their players. In 2018 Solomon Thomas, the 3rd pick in the 2017 draft, lost his sister to suicide. While battling depression, Solomon found solace in Vito, another french bulldog that 49ers director of player engagement Austin Moss would bring to the facility on occasion. So Moss adopted Zoe so there would be a pup on-site to help the players through tough times or simply to reset their day. You can read the full story at the Athletic or simply check out Zoe's Instagram page. Athletic Zoe's Instagram Mental health is important and many people ignore its daily effects. Remember to speak with someone, professional or simply a friend, if life gets overwhelming...or if you prefer, find a dog, cat, or reptile and talk to them. You'll be amazed by what good listeners your four-legged friend can be.

As I inch closer to the release date on my first novel, The Shadow Within, I discover more fun and interesting things to do. I am self-publishing, so I do have to cover everything that would be handled by an agent or an actual publishing firm. I have to get the book edited, formatted (for paperback and eBook), design a cover, file the proper paperwork, get the right files to the right publishing sites, and of course write a book. And while all of that seems and let's be honest, is quite overwhelming at times, I have found the most frustrating thing of them all...The Blurb! The blurb is the 200 or so words you read on the back of the cover to see if you might be interested in reading. Today many of the blurbs you see are actually on the web page next to the book cover. And according to some it might be more important than the book itself. I'm not one of those people. The blurb is never the singular factor in my decision to read the book. I take in the cover, the genre, and yes...the cursed blurb. I have spent more time writing and rewriting the blurb than I did getting my DBA, my EIN, my copyright filed and getting set up to print on Amazon. I've almost decided when it's all said and done (and God willing I complete a blurb that people will find acceptable), I will have spent less time writing the actual book than the blurb. There are many sites where a writer can go to get feedback and suggestions on an impressive amount of topics. The blurb even has its own Reddit.com section. It is here and on a few Facebook groups that allow for sharing of projects where I've had my blurbs ripped to shreds and crapped on. My book is a horror novel. It is 80000+ words and I am required by law to explain it to you in no more than 200 words. There are rules to follow and if you even think of straying from the path, well you know... So what have I learned about blurbs? They need to convey genre, atmosphere, and basic plot points. Without ever specifically naming the genre, comparing it to any other book, and those plot points better stay basic Mister! Except you can and are expected to all of those things around the blurb. You need a hook, a killer first line (and every other line better at least wound someone), and you need to make sure you "engage the readers' sympathy or curiosity" (actual advice) of the main character to "convince the reader that they are going to care". - Did I mention this is 200 words? So I wrote, and shared, and scrapped, and wrote, and shared, and scrapped and finally began to scream into the void...you get the picture. If not, here is a visual aid. I received helpful hints, and not so helpful hints. Some people would use your question as a launching point to get help for their work. Some would tell you to get a hook, but not share where they might keep these at your favorite Mega-store. Some would point out a line or two that helped or hurt the blurb, and to those people, I say "Thank you". Others simply said trash it all, it's all garbage, or you're garbage - that last one might be me projecting. One person told me my blurb sounded like a romance novel, and I didn't need anyone to tell me to ball that one up and throw it away. Then a few started to respond positively to my blurb. Instead of throwing everything away, I was allowed to keep a few words. Then they blessed me with a few lines. And then these kind souls (i.e. monsters) let me keep it all but a few words. "Tighten it up", "Less is more", "More is more", and of course "Where's your hook?" Finally, I put out a blurb I felt followed the rules while breaking them and gave you more by being less and hooked you and maybe even threw you back...Am I doing this right? I got some good feedback. People seemed to like it and after a final edit, I was feeling positive. I have my blurb. Then I did a final check on Reddit. A new message on the blurb page. This should be helpful as I polish this masterpiece of a blurb... This line needs to go - It is an evil of unending appetite. Too straightforward and plain. Honestly, you need to just start over. Here's a link to the same article you've read a million times. Follow its blueprint. Great, back to the drawing board. I'm including the blurb in its current form. Let me know if you like it and what needs to be changed. After reading it, are you interested in reading the book? All of this will help as I move forward to publication. [This was written 10/20/19. I awoke this morning for even more helpful advice and so I am going to leave this in tact. I will include the new and improved blurb below last night's blurb. Which do you prefer?] VERSION A Centuries ago the natives captured and imprisoned a life force of pure evil and unending hunger. Thirteen years ago an eight-year-old boy woke the darkness. It grows in strength every day and now the boy is a man. A man skilled in terror and violence, the very things the darkness needs to finally break free. Jill, a city girl at heart, was surprised when the car came to a stop. Jack wasn't kidding when he said they were going to the boonies. A family vacation, her with Jack and his teenage kids, was not her idea of fun but Jill was ready to take the next step. She wondered if this trip was Jack’s way to say he was ready as well. As the man stalks through the countryside, unleashing panic and dread, will Jill be able to escape with Jack and his children? Or will the man soak the ground in blood and release… The Shadow Within VERSION B A relentless evil possessing an already depraved man... gruesome and hideous acts of brutality... Will anyone survive? Centuries ago the natives captured and imprisoned a life force of pure evil and unending hunger. Thirteen years ago an eight-year-old boy woke the darkness. It grows in strength every day and now the boy is a man. A man skilled in terror and violence, the very things the darkness needs to finally break free. Jill, a city girl at heart, was surprised when the car came to a stop. Jack wasn't kidding when he said they were going to the boonies. A family vacation, her with Jack and his teenage kids, was not her idea of fun but Jill was ready to take the next step. She wondered if this trip was Jack’s way to say he was ready as well. As the man stalks through the countryside, unleashing panic and dread, will Jill be able to escape with Jack and his children? Or will the man soak the ground in blood and release… The Shadow Within Discover a tale of horror in the terrifying debut by Eric Butler