Book promo

If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*

FROM SARAH A. HOYT: Odd Magics: Tales for the Lost

Odd Magics
This is a very strange collection of fairytales, recast for modern life. In it the prize isn’t always to the fairest, the
magic is rarely to the strongest.
But lonely introverts do find love, women who never gave it a thought find themselves at the center of romance.
Doing what’s right will see you to the happily ever after.
And sometimes you have to kiss an accountant to find your prince.

Okay, so I intend to figure out what went wrong with the spill chucking and de-typoing on this. I had several editors, and either I mixed up versions, and put up the wrong one, or I was so out of it when entering changes that I added to the typos. You’d think that’s impossible, but I’ve recently seen what I’ve done to Barbarella script over the move, so…
I repeat: If you’ve complained to me about the typos (and there have been more than 5 people who did so, can you send me a typo list? Under the form of “is” and “Should be” per line. Younger son is also on it, but he’s good but slow. I will also be doing a hard cover of this, and the artist has very kindly (and for free) sent me a new TPB cover. So if you intend to buy on paper, you might want to hold off a week or two while I figure this out. If you buy on kindle, it will automatically update when fixed. It was supposed to be one over the weekend, but … stuff happened. -SAH.

FROM BECKY R. JONES: Magic Abroad (Academic Magic Book 4)

Zoe O’Brien is very much looking forward to teaching summer school and tracking down fairy tales in Ireland. Her hopes for a quiet, academic summer are squashed when the dolphins tell her there’s something wrong in the Aran Islands, and her students are stalked by a… something before disappearing. There’s also the possibility that the slightly creepy guy at the train station is her father. So much for a quiet research-filled summer!

Now Zoe is in a race to find her students and help stop an invasion of Ireland by creatures out of myth and legend. The amount of magic in Ireland stuns Zoe. Are the ancient gods of Ireland returning to fight their enemies in the middle of her research? And what does the Morrígan want with Zoe?

*My husband recommends this series – SAH*

FROM A. W. GUERRA AND KELLY HOGAN: First Strike: Loudoun County

Retired Army Delta Force operator Luke Ellis, 17-year-old teen Annie Dedham and her 12-year-old brother Darren, along with young Loudoun County deputy sheriff Alec Holman, are in a race against time to prevent the destruction of humanity. To succeed, they need the help of a mysterious woman scientist. Only she can stop Armageddon from taking place. There’s a huge problem, though: Terrorists are rampaging through the small Loudoun County hamlet of Lucketts and they’re after the same scientist. What Ellis and his little band do over the next several hours will decide the fate of humankind.

FROM JERRY BOYD: Don’t Give Up the Shop (Bob and Nikki Book 24)

The band took some shore leave, and helped their friend in his shop. On a visit to the bots, Bob and Nikki had to rescue some folks. Andre found a girlfriend, and then rescued her, a knight in shining hull metal. Come watch the crew deal with what their shepherd sends them.

FROM LAURA MONTGOMERY: Relief Afar: A Martha’s Sons Short Story

Even on a lost colony world, secret enclaves have something to offer—but not when an insider sees a newcomer as the enemy.

Twenty-year-old Peter Dawe’s exile gets worse. Not only is he forbidden the lost colony’s city and his family’s freehold, but even his brother’s isolated farm no longer offers refuge. Of necessity, he heads north, away from humanity’s terraformed valley towards the hidden enclave where pioneers push back the forbidding flora and fauna of the planet’s native terrain. They call it Kentucky

Young volunteers from First Landing’s northern families work to terraform the plains beyond the mountains. They’ve known each other all their lives and spent the summer working together. Peter’s presence should be a welcome addition to the small group.

After what he did to protect his brother’s family, Peter has resolved not to fight again—at least not for a good long time. When another man seeks to test himself against Peter and Peter’s past violence, Peter faces a choice. Does he confront what he’s tried to leave behind, or does he show he understands the hard lessons life insists on teaching him?

Relief Afar offers another window into the lost colony world of Not What We Were Looking For. If you wonder what it’s like to build a new life on an unwelcoming planet, and if you want to see what lies in store next for this son of Martha, you’ll want to jump right into the newest tale.

Buy Relief Afar to transcend exile today!

BY ED LACY, WITH INTRODUCTION BY D. JASON FLEMING: Room to Swing (Annotated): The Pulp Noir Classic

Black private eye Toussaint Moore knew a murder frame-up when he saw one, especially when it was hung neatly around his neck. Instead of dawdling around New York waiting for the NYPD to arrest him for a murder he didn’t commit, he followed the one lead he had: the victim’s hometown in Ohio. Only a stone’s throw north of Jim Crow Kentucky. If he can’t find who wanted that white man dead, and quick, all he’s going to have left is room to swing!

FROM WILLIAM STROOCK: The Great Nuclear War of 1975

The Great Nuclear War of 1975
In a Different 1975…
Superpower relations breakdown and a nuclear war all but annihilates the Soviet Union and devastates the United States.
100 million Americans are dead.
After Washington is destroyed, a smalltown judge delivers the oath of office to Vice President Rockefeller.
Surviving American forces on land, sea and in the air await orders from the new president.
Americans across the nation climb out of the rubble looking for a homeland that no longer exists.
In surviving capitals across the globe, governments ponder the implications of a world without the superpowers.
In Britain, a rump cabinet meets in the Cotswolds to plan a way forward without the United States.
Commonwealth Prime Ministers in Canberra, Auckland and Ottawa look to the UK for leadership.
In Buenos Ares, a weak government plots the takeover of the Malvines.
As radiation sweeps down from Siberia, the Chinese government faces unprecedented famine.
In New Delhi, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi wonders how she will feed India.
In Rhode Island, one man will start a trek halfway across North America to reunite with his family.
William Stroock is the author of 15 novels including the World War 1990 alternate history series.

FROM TONY ANDARIAN: The Ring of the Killravens: Dawn of Chaos 2 – Hell Gate, Part II (Sanctum of the Archmage Book 3)

A new constitution prepares Carlissa for an era of enlightenment. The harsh traditions of the past fade, and a promise of freedom stirs the air.

In the space of one terrifying day, that promise is shattered in a bloodbath of fire and magic.

In The Ring of the Killravens, the survivors of the Horde’s first brutal assault regroup and consider their options. The royal family plans a desperate gamble to use the power of an ancient, hidden artifact against the demons.

Thousands of years ago, an epic battle was fought between good and evil. The demon lords had opened a door to the realms of hell itself, and their horde threatened to overrun the earth. But the Kalarans, led by the hero Calindra, destroyed their hellgate and drove them from the world.

The Great War has long since been lost to myth and legend. The Church struggles for relevance as the people forget their covenant with the gods. A renaissance of freedom and learning stirs the air in the modern age of Carlissa, led by the royal family, and the wisdom of the Archmage.

All of that comes to an end when a dome of shimmering magic appears in the capital city.

The people fight desperately to survive the chaos that follows, and wonder bitterly why the gods seem to have abandoned them. Their only hope lies with the magic of the Archmage — and his, with a young princess who never wanted to rule. She must find the strength to set aside her bard’s calling and take up a battle against impossible odds, or surrender her land and people to the Black Magus and his demons.

Note: An earlier version of this book appeared as part of the novel Dawn of Chaos, published briefly on Amazon in 2017. That book has now been re-written and expanded into a series of six novella-length installments.

FROM D. W. PATTERSON: Frozen Time: Time Series Book 3

Because of the Time Wars fought in the space around Earth the underlying system of local and non-local links that makes up spacetime had been destroyed. It was now impossible to use the spin-two drive to open those links and access orbit and the rest of the Solar System. Space access services had fallen back on the rocket ship as the primary way to reach orbit from Earth’s surface.

Now a strange spaceship had appeared above the spaceports scattered around the world and placed them in a seemingly impenetrable bubble of frozen time.

The Earth economy was thrown into turmoil with the loss of space access and a young boy, along with his friends and his amazing AI, were off on an adventure of a lifetime as they and others tried to understand what had happened.

“Frozen Time” is a novel set in the future (2700s) and is the thirty-third and final (for now) story in the Future Chron Universe. Hard Science Fiction – Old School.

The Future Chron Universe consists of nine novels, sixteen novellas, and eight short stories, almost eight-thousand words of science fiction and adventure. See the author’s website dwpattersonscifi.blogspot.com for more information including a recommended reading order.

Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.

So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.

If you have questions, feel free to ask.

Your writing prompt this week is: Early

*Since I’m not early — obviously — with this post, I’d like to point out that a) Amazon associate’s site-stripe IS one of those rare things, an improvement that helps with doing these posts. I also wish to tear out my hair and hop around like a chimpanzee on speed because ARGH. No, seriously, argh. I was connected through the proxy, without checking, and site strip THOUGHT it was working but refused to. It required two full reboots to bring you this post. Not your fault. Mine a bit for not checking on the proxy before starting. But ARGH. – SAH*

Promo tomorrow.

But the bunnies clearly need to be hugged, living under the cruel heel of the chickens.

This week has been fairly devoid of quality thoughts, hasn’t it? I’ll resume serious blogging next week, but this week I’m trying to get over heavy terrain fast-ish. As in, things must be planted, and things must be seeded, and flowerbeds must be assembled and established.

Meanwhile the house — after four months of being “down” in one way or another — is the filthiest it’s ever been, for any house I lived in, and must be at least perfunctorily cleaned (and unpacked. ARRGH.) And there’s books to finish and write.

So, I must be at least three people, a conundrum I’m not sure how to solve.

So far I’ve managed to fully install ONE flower bed, but no seeding yet. And I’m leaving the gardening to the evening, as I can’t find my hat, and yesterday I became seriously overheated. (Yes, I have a big ridiculous, floppy gardening hat.)

Anyway, I’ve cleaned the kitchen. I’m in a Baen podcast (for time troopers, with older son) at one. And then I REALLY need to work on Bowl of Red. REALLY. I also need to reissue Odd Magics (If you have lists of typos, send them now. I either published an old version or introduced typos when correcting it.) And clean and publish Darkship Thieves.

Meanwhile I spent the night dreaming a good friend who is not likely to do that at all was chasing me around and demanding I lose weight…. (Yeah, I need to, but I figure the government will soon help ;) )

Anyway, this is an even sorrier excuse for a post than the previous one.

To make things worse, I also dreamed an entire fairyland Pride and Prejudice fanfic.

Make that I need to be six people, and three of them need to be making with the typety typing.

Meh.

Real blogging next week. For now, go outside and get some natural sunlight or soemthing.

If you keep misbehaving, I’ll post a reading of one of my stories, and then you’ll have my accent stuck in your head forever…. :-P

But The Lizard Will Surely Die – A blast from the past from April 2021

Yeah, okay, so we’re back to Rango.

You see, when I was sitting here (minding my own (or at least my characters’) business), what caught my attention FIRST was the owls saying “But the lizard will certainly die” as the poor domesticated chameleon is running through the desert facing a million perils.

There is something…. awfully familiar about those owls.

Oh, yeah, okay, Greek Chorus — though I’ll note those didn’t always predict misfortune, sometimes they predicted great honor, which is I guess next door to it, as far as ancient Greeks were concerned — look, I grew up with the classical forms, to the point that when I first wrote a novel I couldn’t remember any of the novels I’d read, not structure wise, but I remembered the tri-part structure, how scenes were defined, how acts were defined. Oh, and that I needed catharsis. To be fair, I still think you should have catharsis in a book. I’m forever amused by people who tell me their books shouldn’t have feelings. Or the ones who complain of “internal monologue” in first person. Yeah? You think you don’t have internal monologue going on 24/7? What do you think that voice behind the eyes is. Being ADD (AF) all I try to do is prevent my characters thought stream from interrupting itself. Sometimes not particularly successfully. (True story: Copy editor: you can’t end a thought with a dash. The character wasn’t interrupted. There’s no one else there. Me: The heck. You’ve never interrupted yourself?… I guess it should have been an indication I wasn’t QUITE normal.)

Anyway, beyond the Greek choir, it was familiar because — honestly — I’m getting sick and tired of the “Abandon all hope” stream. No, seriously. If I wanted that, I’d be hanging out at Zero Hedge or other sites known to be Russian dizinformazia.

(Gee, I wonder why Russia — or China — would want us to give up, buckle under and just give in to the current invaders’ demands and/or kill ourselves in despair. Either or– I mean the insanity of the left was being capable of believing that Russia would back someone who wanted to “Make America Great Again.” HOW fricking stupid do you have to be about how nations work, and history to believe that shit?)

Even people who know better write long articles about how China is going to win and be the big hegemon forever, world without end. And now that the left stole — remember, they HAD to cheat — their way into power, we’re going to turn into China, and woe, woe, woe.

No matter how often I tell them — and I’m not alone, and frankly like looking at the Diamond Princess numbers when the “pandemic” started, this is only sense — that yes, that’s what China thinks. It might be what the left thinks too (the dumber ones, at least. The smarter/not crazy/not stoned our of their minds ones are just trying to get rich and run out the clock and not get a la lanterned). But their thinking it doesn’t MAKE it so. Yes, that’s what their moves trend to. BUT have you seen their idea of reality and how far it is from, you know, real reality? What makes you think that what they think is the perfect move is in fact a perfect move? They’re not playing 3 dimmensional chess. They’re playing 3 dimmentsional tiddly winks on an invisible chess board that exists only in their minds, while using live frogs as tiddly wink pieces.

Sure, China is going to be the world hegemon forever…. In defiance of their very long history of in point of fact not having a clue other cultures EXIST or that other people are different from them. An history that, back when they were the most advanced people in the world meant they often turned tail and isolated themselves, rather than deal with those icky, icky foreign devils who were so utterly irrational.

But let’s go with that. Tell me, oh, wise ones, how does China feed her people, once they take down the US? Because without us buying their (mostly crap, TBH) products, out of our abundance of wealth, and feeding them with our cheap agricultural produce out of our abundance of production, China can’t in point of fact support itself. It collapses very fast and goes into of their warring states periods.

Can that happen? Yeah, sure it can because Chinese blind spots mean they don’t understand they can’t stop the wheel of the world’s production and innovation and go on their merry way. They’re the Middle Kingdom. They need no barbarian power, and life would be much better without the barbarian power.

So yes, China will try to grind our bones to make their bread.

But my guess is LONG before they get to the point we’re there, they collapse. However, that’s neither here nor there. The truth is if they try to do that, they collapse.

And what are we doing then, under their heel? Sitting with our thumbs up our butts? Because why? We suffered a paralytic stroke? For one, once the left stops getting loads of Chinese monopoly money, THEY collapse. And probably run away, though you know what, I wouldn’t put it past them trying to rule from a bunker. They almost are right now.

This is the same with “It’s 1984, and the left will rule us forever.” What? Like all the other great totalitarian regimes in history, which within years couldn’t feed themselves? Sure, they’ll rule us forever, because we’re going to live on air and unicorn farts.

Also I’ll remind you that we’re bigger in landmass than Germany, bigger in population than Russia, and that even there the resistance in the form of a black market and various f*ck-f*ck games not only existed but arguably were the only thing that functions.

I mentioned that I’d watched Le Roi Danse, in French for the love of heaven — though not precisely true. I watched various parts of it — and part of what struck me was that the insane man — he invented bureaucracy, you know? — was trying to build the model of the industrial totalitarian state. Except things weren’t to where he could yet. And now they’re well past it.

The 1930s were the ideal world for 1984. Since then? Not so much.

Yes, sure, But spying devices, they know everything about us, and reeeeeeee.

I know, I know, running around with your head on fire is great fun isn’t it? And believing things are hopeless absolves you from trying to do anything.

But if those spying devices/ubiquitous data gathering were so d*mn effective, they wouldn’t have NEEDED to fraud at the last minute, in plain view.

One thing the left can never process is that other people lie to them. It’s part of their conceit of themselves that they are the smartest people in any room, so they know they can lie to us, but us? Effectively lie to them? That’s not possible.

The other thing that none of the people running around with their heads on fire get is that no tech, none can process the masses of information these ass clowns are gathering.

Information gathering ALWAYS exceeds the ability to process it. Sure, they can process more now, but they can gather exponentially more. I recommend you watch The Lives of Others to understand this discrepancy.

This is why, ultimately, totalitarian states are ineffective and starve. Because their terror is ultimately always arbitrary which personally scares the crap out of me, but it doesn’t mean it scares the crap out of me HISTORICALLY. Sure, their random bullshit could kill me and mine. Meh. We all die sometime. But America will come back and go on. ALMOST for sure.

Look, we’re in a pickle and no mistake, and the bullshit we’re letting these idiots get away with is going to make my great grandkids (if I ever have any eh) work ten times as hard to have a decent life, and innovate.

But you know what? We don’t have an America to bail us out and enable us in our stupidity. By our sheer size, and the fact we’ve been the engine of the world for so long, if we fall nothing replaces us. Which is good, because it means we can’t go on playing at socialism while someone else grows the wheat and sends it over to feed us.

In the end, America will have to unf*ck itself, because there’s no America to come bail us out.

Or, you know, we go down into the stonnnnnnne ageeeeee forever. REEEEEE.

Except that’s never happened. Ever. Correction: It’s absolutely possible, if you’re a small tribe, and your place gets covered with a volcano. But with a world-wide civilization?

Bah.

The Lizard will surely die, yeah.

Just like it was surely going to die when the “hammer” of the Soviet Union fell. Except because the Soviet Union was a totalitarian state, its might was mostly smoke and mirrors, and could only persist so long as people like Jimmah carter enabled them because they were so scared of this “vaunted might.” And the fact the Soviet Union would “inevitably” eventually win.

I grew up with this shit. No one who lived through it can imagine how all the serious people stroked their chins and told us about the great efficiency of the soviet union, and how they were going to win the cold war, or send the whole world into the stone age.

And then Reagan stood up to it. And told them “We win, you lose” and the whole thing crumbled, like the rotten illusion it was.

So, having been there? This whole “China will ruuuuuuuule us foreeeeeever” is awfully familiar.

Look, the lizard in the Diamond Princess is sunning itself on deck and laughing, while you run around screaming of doom. Just as they were back a year ago. AND YEAH I TOLD YOU SO.

But yeah, we’re in trouble and no mistake, with a Junta having taken over and hating us with a burning passion.

And? It’s not even the stupidest thing we’ve ever done. Tell me another country who ever banned alcohol ALCOHOL for the love of Bob. And another government who went around poisoning alcohol.

FDR was a greater menace than these assholes. His every instinct was totalitarian and thanks to mass media, he was not even suspected of the shit he puled and thanks to the perilous knowledge/control of history he fooled a good 85% of the people. And those he didn’t fool thought they were alone.

Yes, yes, yes, I know. The Lizard will SURELY die. But not today. Probably tomorrow, by slipping in the shower. Maybe.
But you know what? Yeah, every human civilization is mortal.

But we’re not ready to be eaten by a hawk, or even a blinkered dragon yet. And we won’t be.

Unless, of course, the lizard convinces itself to lie down and die.

In which case, China still won’t win and certainly not forever. The left won’t win and certainly not forever.

But we can CHOOSE to lose.

The question is: WHY WOULD YOU?

F*ck that noise.

To quote President Reagan: In the end we win, they lose.

Be not afraid.

I understand from my friend Cedar that a young woman in possession of a back porch must use it for coffee in the morning. Or even a middle aged woman, in my case.

Now, for several years, I had a back porch, but it was unusable, having been built by crazy people and being dry rotted and dangerous. It was rebuilt just before we moved, so I had no time to use it for coffee. At any rate, it was at a third floor height, in an area where winds were often strong, and I suspect it would be uncomfortable this morning, when the weather report tells me it’s in the high thirties over there.

Over here it’s supposed to get to the seventies today, and it’s just warm enough now not to shiver out on the porch, with the slight breeze blowing. I’m in possession of a patio umbrella to shade the laptop, as previous attempts at writing out here made me squint at the screen like someone trying to read a crystal ball.

I probably won’t stay outside, or not any amount of time, really, because it’s still a little brisk, and because the shadows on the laptop are still too weird to see clearly. (It’s best out here at sunset, but then the mosquitos come out. Yes, I have acquired a zapper and will install it before the weekend. I’ve also acquired bookshelves, that must be installed around the living room so I can unpack my library, which is after all my tools of the trade. Husband had an idea for a novel and I told him I have the books to research it, but right now they’re in storage. This weekend, younger son will hopefully help with project bookshelves. (Well, it needs help, because everything I build tilts slightly to the left (!) on account of an old brain injury.) I’m also in possession of grapevines “suitable to the region.” weirdly, this micro climate supports the same sort of grapevine that grew in the village. I suspect I won’t grow enough grapes for wine for some years (And I’m going to clobber my husband if he says this is a 5 year house, I swear, though to be honest, we still don’t know precisely where the boys will end up, and if there are grandchildren we’ll want to be within visiting distance of at least one set of them. On the other hand, perhaps we can commute, as I really like this house, and I’m planning to improve it.) But it will smell “right” in fall. I’m going to grow them as a canopy over the patio, or at least that is the idea.

So, this weekend, I have a bunch of things to plant — the person who owned this house, let the flowerbeds go unplanted to the point they lost dirt or became covered with grass. I really want to plant roses, but for now I will probably seed the front with cosmos and the back I’ll plant berry bushes. We’ll see how things grow. Since Manitou Springs, now 22 years in the rearview mirror, I’ve not had a successful garden. This is because where we bought in Colorado Springs, only rocks grew. And then in Denver, our neighborhood was too high and the soil was like cement.

If you see me dithering on my back porch, in front of a laptop, and with a shovel and soil by my side, you’re not wrong.

My problem right now is that I wish to be already settled, with everything unpacked, and my routine established, and at least the minor stuff that needs to be done on the house done. (I need to get the kitchen and family room expanded, and the mind gibbers away fro it. But if it’s to be done, it were better to be done soon.) The minor stuff is stuff like bookshelves, finishes, car repairs…. that stuff.

It seems like it will be trouble enough to become…. accustomed to a new place and establish new routines and social contacts. We did live for most of our lives in Colorado, so this seems very odd, very different. On the other hand–

It must be done.

I suppose I’m not the only one here in this position. Most of my friends moved over the last year. Though to be fair, most of them moved before me, and are now more settled. But in away the entire country — or at least those who are aware of what is going on in the country and the world at large (because of the corruption of our information streams, I don’t even know if we’re a minority or not) — is like this, moving their networks, their sources of support, and preparing for something they can sense but not quite predict.

And of course we want to do everything at once, but time and the physical body have limits.

So, here I am, writing a blog post about two feet away from a bird hopping around on the grass (apparently I’m not threatening at all, yo) and squinting at the screen out of sheer stubbornness, wanting to be outside, but knowing I must go back in and work.

Soon enough things will settle. For a value of settle.

The new normal? I’ve hated the definition of “new normal” from the moment the glitterati tried to introduce it. No. We want a normal/normal.

But are things going to go back to the way they were? Ah. Have they ever?

In many ways, the golden years of our lives were the six (were they really only six?) years we lived in Manitou Springs. That was my favorite of all our houses. We had a writers’ group which met every Saturday, and though it had some troublesome elements, it was by and large harmonious, at least for a while. I grew roses and a big cosmos bed (good for cut flowers) and I had a terrace, where I wrote during spring and summer, while annoying the neighbors with my writing music. (Each book wants its own kind, and some are weird.) And I wrote — a lot — and got published for the first time.

But even that house wasn’t ideal. To stay there as the kids got older, we’d have had to do major remodeling to the second floor (doable, but a mess) and the neighbors would have gotten more annoying as politics became more polarized (Manitou is Boulder South.) The schools were already a hot bed of drug use, and I wonder what legalization did. We moved when we had to. That 9/11 and polarization nuked our writers’ group is…. something else.

More importantly, while I lived there I gained 10 lb a year, because the street was so steep I never walked.

I was never that fond of the downtown Colorado Springs house, but I loved the walks, and being near coffee shops and museums oh, and the art school. But by the time we moved that was …. dangerous due to homeless.

The Denver suburb was in many ways my being a fish out of water. The truth — sad, for someone of my political persuasion, I guess — is that I’ve never been happy in suburbs. I liked our particularly neighbors, but not the neighborhood at large, and being lazy, I found there was nothing nearby to entice me to walk, much less drive, so I became a kind of hermit.

Here? I don’t know yet. There are places nearby I want to drive to (though I haven’t yet. I need to start my “getting used to driving again” thing going.) There’s a nice park Dan and I walk in. The yard needs a lot of work, and at this point I’m completely inexperienced in gardening, because it’s been decades. (But I did do a lot of it as a kid.)

I like the church. And it’s been 10 years since I liked our local church.

Yeah, everything still feels weird and uncomfortable.

We’ll get used to it.

I want to write a lot, but I keep getting sidetracked by health and stuff that needs to be done. I suppose the health, it’s the after-shocks of the stress and moving. It had to come out somewhere, and I suppose my body thinks it’s safe now.

The stuff…. will get done in time.

If this sounds incredibly rambling, it is. It’s a state of the writer, with the writer recovering from being ill and having a mild case of spring fever and wanting to be done moving already.

But as our impatience with the country and state thereof (and of the world) I suppose there’s no way out but through. Keep pushing for better, and things will slowly improve. There will be a new-normal. Let’s make it the one we want, not the crazy “masters of the universe” one that can’t work.

And let’s be thankful every day that we’re not about to have the kind of boring old age where you settle into a routine, and slowly let go of the world until we die. No, our generation is likely to be blessed with innovation, rebuilding and work until our last days.

If you don’t think it’s a blessing, you haven’t seen the alternative.

As long as the days don’t get terminally interesting.

And it’s our job to make sure of that.

Let’s get it done.

This is a public service announcement: no matter how wild-ass optimistic this blogger sounds to you, it is important to remember she’s in fact a sad, habitual depressive.

She sort of learned to reality-check herself and to act less depressed than she felt, because lying down on the sofa moaning is a bad way to raise the kids. Not saying there weren’t days like that, but it wasn’t all the time. And so, they’re not as completely broken as they’d be otherwise, okay?

But the extent to which I’m still a depressive, and still horrified by what seems to me like inevitable doom headed down the pike not only evades you — as you throw things at me and tell me how blue-sky optimistic I am — but it often evades me.

Last week I did a deep dive into the first years of Obama on this blog. I was looking for some specific reference. I no longer remember what.

Here’s the thing: I won’t say that things that I didn’t expect DIDN’T go weirdly wrong, but I would say on the whole? The destruction they managed is about half what I expected. And the thing I DID NOT expect was Trump.

For al his faults, and there are many; for all his failings in understanding how to hire people; for all his failures in navigating the swamp, the man red pilled more people than I could ever even imagine.

I think part of this is my unique perspective. My work field is totally taken over, and it was, already, when I got in. I accepted, to an extent, a deal with the devil when I went in to it. And hurt my career to the extent I backed out of the deal. (The thing with Baen was complicated, but realize they still work with fully “converged” distributors and bookshops. And if you think that doesn’t matter you’ve never done that.)

The thing was that most people — most of you — didn’t know it. The cancellations were deadly, in the dark of night. You just suddenly — oh, ask Roger Simon, why don’t you? Or Brad Torgersen — lost all your talent and became a hack, mysteriously, over night. And the word went around that you just weren’t one of the good people. That you were bad in some undefinable way. And overnight you were unemployable. Untouchable.

And it wasn’t just in writing. I have friends who experienced these joys in journalism, in academia, and yes, in STEM.

But it was all done in the dark of night, and well hidden, and the conspirators kept their knives hidden. It was all how you weren’t good enough, or you had some major issue, from personality defects to unacceptable addictions. Whispered. Of course. And all support, all friendship, all employment vanished.

This has been going on my entire adult life.

So, now it’s done in the open. In full view.

Believe it or not, this is better. Even people like my husband who “hate politics” but have an innate sense of fairness can see it now. And it turns out most people are actually decent, and this stuff is stomach-turning.

Is it in full view yet? Well, no. But it is in view enough that people are waking up in massive numbers.

The same, btw, with the betrayal of the country, the ruin of our economy, and the attempts to get a world war going. EVERYONE CAN SEE THEM. And these things don’t work when everyone can see them. The left needs to preserve the appearance of virtue and good will to get away with this.

The first three years of Trump dented that. The last three years ripped it to h*ll and gone.

In the seventies, they convinced us we were plain running out of gas. Now we know they’re playing keep away with gas. It’s not the same. It won’t be the same.

In the seventies they pretended communists were high-minded early-Christian-like. Now …. except for some sheltered trust fund babies we know they’re mostly deadly rich f*ckups.

It’s all out in the open, and it can’t survive.

Is it going to hurt us like hell going down? Yeah.

But if my past blogs are any indication, only about half as bad as I expect. We might come through this in other words: scarred and prematurely aged, but alive.

So, in the interest of keeping things in perspective/staying sane or not terminally depressed, do keep that in mind.

Other things that help: Today was an utterly useless day for me.

I went for an early morning walk, came back inside and found that husband wanted to go for a walk. Came back, and son was sitting on back porch, reading. I talked to him about a plot, then read a bit. (until I get a sun shade, I can’t write out there, yet.)

Then husband wanted to go for a drive, so we did that. Then we came home and I read son’s story for a critique. And then–

Well, somehow we got take-out. And I think mostly for the drive across town.

Because it’s spring.

Spring, and the sun, help.

Doing something every day that won’t get undone overnight helps (DIL taught me that one.)

Going out and seeing normal people being normal, helps.

Petting the cats, dogs (or I suppose parrots, hamsters, guinea pigs or hedgehogs) helps.

Writing something strange and escapist helps.

Gardening helps.

If you find yourself waiting for the inevitable doom, go out and do something.

Doom might still come, but you’ll have enjoyed yourself a little bit before it does.

Be not afraid. It probably won’t be as bad as you imagine. You have an overactive imagination. It will be bad, but not that bad.

Go and do.

I am not unaware of the invasion taking place on our Southern Border, nor am I unaware of the ramping up to happen.

I’ve been silent on it only because — beyond the fact there is bloody nothing I can do beyond preparing and telling you to prepare — it is a complex and difficult subject. Not in my reaction to it — obviously I disapprove — but in what is happening, what it will cause, and what can even be done at this point, even if we could stop it today. And obviously we can’t stop it till at the earliest January.

First there are my views on immigration.

I’d be the worst kind of hypocrite if I said someone born abroad can’t or shouldn’t join the American experiment. However, having gone through acculturation and knowing how hard it is — almost impossible, particularly in a culture (ours right now) that actively discourages it — I will link various posts in which I discuss it, in no particular order:

And Marry Our Fortunes Together – Immigration is like marriage. Both sides should have a say. No one has the right to come in, and we should choose those we want in.

Cross-Culture – Americans have trouble “reading” other Americans and — trust me guys — are drawers at reading other cultures. Adding vast amounts of other cultures will get … sportive. Quickly.

Prepare to be Assimilated – Acculturation is hard, and making people feel guilty for wanting to assimilate is crazy.

Borders, Immigrants and Invaders – Effective immigration, legal or illegal must be difficult. You must suffer to belong, or belonging will mean nothing.

And by the way, a lot of my doubts about immigration apply to legal immigration ALSO. Our immigration is profoundly broken at all levels. We’re importing, for instance, health care workers that are not trained to our standards, let alone have a similar culture. (And most of them are Chinese, yes.) Meanwhile we make it difficult for people of similar training/similar cultures to immigrate here, even if willing to acculturate. Heck, at this point it might be particularly if willing to acculturate.

This is because of the left’s vision of the world — mostly Gramscian — and it’s creating a mess in our lives, cultures and institutions. If you think that importing our medicines from a largely inimical nation is wrong, imagine importing a vast number of our knowledge workers, instead of training up our own children. (And add up to what’s wrong in that case put in the fact that the left has effed up our schools to a level that’s hard to imagine, unless you look closely. Seriously, EVERYTHING they touch they destroy.)

But importing Americans? Sure. Heck, I’d also make it really, really easy to adopt children under 2 from abroad.

Why? Because our demographics are broken. They’re not the worst in the world, but they are broken. We are not reproducing enough, and that’s taking in account that I think they’re grossly inflating our birth/immigration statistics.

However, not by having an open border, not by letting everyone in unvetted, and not by extending all sorts of services to them with absolutely no vetting. Oh, and not — repeat not — by almost requiring no socialization.

I’m not sure how cultures work, but I do know they can become mortally wounded and either never recover, or never recover into a functional form. A lot of the dying cultures of the world have that issue. We have that issue, sort of, because of leftist prodding and poking and removing Chesterton’s fence over and over and over again. We can’t take much more of it, much less a “multicultural” invasion in staggering numbers.

So, again, this is complicated in my head, so I’m going to organize it into headings: It’s worse than you think, it’s not as bad as you think, and glimmers of hope, followed by How it all goes sour.

It’s worse than you think

Well, perhaps not if you’re a reader of this blog and others like it, but most people are bombarded with images of children, and mothers carrying children in arms, and they think that’s what immigrants are.

Most immigrants coming in are in fact males of military age. Before you attribute super powers to the left, part of that is what every “wave” of immigrants starts off as. Because men come over, establish themselves, then “send for” the family.

However, we do have evidence from when people did deep-dives into the “caravans” that a lot of these pseudo migrants are being actively recruited by communist groups. And yes, of course — do I look stupid? — the left is intending to use them as shock troops of sorts in a conflict they desperately want to go physical. (Because they’re stupid in a highly specialized way, okay. They have watched all the movies of communist revolutions. They think that’s reality. No. Even the migrants wouldn’t save them. But that’s besides the point.)

Leaving aside that a lot of these people are ideologically opposed to us, the demographic tilt is bad bad bad news — salutes BGE — because a large, undigested, probably largely unemployable population of young males will have bad effects. Bad effects for general disorder. Bad effects for crime. Just bad effects in general, regardless of what the population is.

In this case, the fact that most of the populations are less “civilized” by which I mean more actually racist, patriarchal, homophobic and violent (because most of the cultures they come from are that also) and from lower trust cultures than ours means bad bad bad results.

We’re also not vetting anyone, so there will be more gangs, more organized criminality.

Look, it is something the left doesn’t get, but while both sexes (ah) of humans need to belong, males who don’t belong and don’t fit in an hierarchy go bad fast. The best mode is self destruction, playing games in parents’ basements. And these people will have no parents here, and Uncle Sam can’t afford to maintain all of them.

It’s going to get bad. Arm up. Stock up on Freedom Seeds. I’ve already seen gang crime spilling to suburban high schools in Colorado Springs. Now it’s all going to ramp up.

It’s Not As Bad As You Think

Yes, you particularly, who read this blog.

As noted above, it’s bad. Very bad.

However remember most of these people aren’t coming here because they’re mad in love with the US or freedom. Some come because they hate us. Some because they’re indoctrinated communists who think we’re richer because we stole from their country/race. (The whole la raza bullshit.)

Most of them, however — trust me — come because the streets are paved with gold; they can make more in a week than they make back home in a year, and our welfare system is a seemingly infinite cash cow.

I estimate that in normal times a good quarter of immigrants goes back home. In normal times, when we’re begging for workers, and the streets really are paved with gold.

Is it that high? Don’t know. No one keeps good track of this. Heck, our immigration system is so loose most illegality is “overstaying visas.”

This is anedacta and observation. The US is WEIRD in the world, so even in normal times a lot of people decide we’re too weird for them and bugger off back where they came from. Now that’s easier if you just came across the Southern border, as opposed to flying halfway across the world.

I do know that under Obama’s stellar economy ALMOST everyone who came in buggered back “home” within a year. It had a name, “La grande Salida” and it was noted. Heck, people were buggering “home” who had been born here, because back South of the border they had extended family and other help.

Obama’s economy was a walk in the park, compared to what we’re entering. Yes, I know part of flying immigrants around is the left’s clever-fool system for making sure no one notices the spreading disaster, and/or to spread vote fraud. But I do wonder how much of it is to make sure that these people can’t just run back over the border when they realize how hard things are about to get. It really reminds me a lot of Kenya’s resettlement of the Masai, known as “first you catch a Masai.”

So, while the numbers coming in are staggering, I think a large number will — if they aren’t already — go the other way at speed.

The backwash will still be gang activity, crime and disorder, but I don’t think on the scale anticipated.

I actually think the “salida” will gain turbo speed in the next couple of months, because most of the people coming in KNOW unstable systems. They can sniff coming trouble in the air. And heck, guys, the air is thick with it. I’m starting to get the need to dive under parked cars when I hear a backfire. And that’s me. And I’ve been here for years.

Signs of Hope

People are noticing. And the more this goes on, the more they will notice.

And a lot of the people coming in have been bit by communism, and really, really don’t want it. If those stick through the mess, they’ll serve as immunization.

People aren’t widgets. The left thinks “brown skin equals leftist. Must import more.” But that’s not true. And Latins or other races who have acculturated are frankly abandoning the left at speed. So, those who remain behind are unlikely to make us leftist.

The left is wrecking the very systems they use to make our “underclass” dysfunctional and passive. It was already strained, but it can’t survive this.

Health, schooling, and welfare are going to crack and they’re going to do so spectacularly. Which leaves it to us to rebuild. They have been counterproductive (not just ineffective) for a long time.

We will have to rebuild or die. And that’s better than slowly dying. Though yes “Everything will get f*cked up” is a weird sign of hope.

Where It All Goes Sour

The worm is turning. I’ve said this for a long time, and you can see it. The culture is turning our way.

And that’s fine, if our way is more individual freedom; more self-responsibility.

The problem is….. “paleo conservative” is only tolerable if it tolerates others. Most of the cultures we’re importing, won’t. And import them in numbers enough and they’ll influence the turn in our culture.

I grew up in a culture where as a young married woman I wasn’t supposed to linger at the window, talk to a young man alone, or be out after 8. I really would prefer my granddaughters don’t have those restrictions, and those are LIGHT compared to say the world of sharia.

I have gay friends, who are not running around demanding you bake them a cake. They want to live and let live. I don’t believe they should be tossed from roofs or have walls collapsed on them.

I’ve “joked” that I expect in ten years I’ll be extreme left without having changed a single position. Let’s not make that THAT extreme.

Gangs. Foreign gangs. We’ve never managed to cope with the Mafia. Now we’re also importing Mexican gangs and Middle Eastern insanity.

Defund the police? We’ll need a police state to cope with this.

Cleaning the vote: Most of these people, even if they ever become citizens won’t ever acculturate enough to be responsible citizens. Their children? Maybe, if we work very hard. Their grandchildren…. how hard are we willing to work?

The economy… Well, most of these people are unskilled. Which are not — REPEAT — not what the economy needs right now. Some will learn. But some might never. How many unemployed ferals can we endure? Don’t we have enough homeless addicts?

So–

What can we do about it?

Not much. Defending the borders is one of those things enshrined in the constitution, and which need the might of the Federal government. The fact that after their soft-coup they’re now facilitating the invasion (inviting/aiding/abetting) is the problem we can’t get past.

So, what can you do?

-Teach your children. Knowing they’re Americans, and what that means is vital, if we are to rebuild. Also, having marketable skills, no matter how hard the establishment tries to stop them from doing so.

-Enforce FIFO to the measure you can. Tell new immigrants that it’s Fit in or Fuck off, and no, we’re not going to make it easy for you, because what’s free is not prized.

– Create trust networks.

– Watch your six, there will be more disorder.

– Buy freedom seeds. No. More freedom seeds.

– Work. Work at building under, building over, building around.

– Defend your convictions.

Is it enough? Probably not. But it’s all we can do as individuals. And maybe — just maybe — we’ll get lucky and a miracle occurs.

It’s happened before.

Be not afraid. Light the lamp of Liberty and hold it high. Be the shining city on a hill.

When older son was four or five, one of our — childless — friends tried to chide him by telling him he was impossible. At which point son fixed her with his most pedantic stare and informed her “No. I’m merely improbable.”

He was right about that. As am I. As are a number of people here. The amount of coincidence and strangeness needed for us to exist, much less exist as we do would strain the pen of the most fantastic novelist.

However, today, in church — of all places — I was meditating on the power of being impossible. Of doing the impossible. Of saying what is not said and doing what’s not done.

No, I’m not actually talking about the resurrection, or being G-d incarnate. This being Palm Sunday we didn’t touch on those, but on the interview with Pilate. I was thinking about the sheer unmitigated impossibility of someone looking at a Roman governor, backed by the might of Rome and giving pert answers like “You say that I am.”

Later on, that utter, unmitigated gall and impossibility helped the growth of Christianity to an enormous amount because these insane people went into the arena singing, happy to die for the faith. Who does that? That’s impossible.

And don’t get me started on picking up unwanted kids and raising them, not as slaves, but as their own. Who in a highly tribal ancient world would even do that? That’s impossible, right?

Doing the impossible gets you noticed, even when — particularly when — you do it from a position of weakness, and yet you dare.

America is, in many ways, an impossible country. We are, actually, despite every attempt to make us otherwise, a functional, cohesive multi-racial nation. (No, we don’t rise to multicultural. Sighs. Guys, seriously. Yes, there are differences between our states. We’re not monolothic, but America identity still transcends all that. In fact, as an identity/base culture American is as persistent as Roman and that…. is still around in many ways, in lands the Romans never trod. There is more difference between adjacent European villages than between NY state and TX.)

And we have a way to do things to rules and mandates from above, that frankly no decent country would do. And by “decent” I mean predictable. (So I’m glad we’re not decent.) You can distort America, but you can’t control her.

No, not even the covidiocy managed it. Yeah, some places got really bad. But mostly? Bah. Spring of 2020, traveling across the midwest, we found more signs on the highway saying some small town was “Fully open for business” and “no masks” than I care to say. (And btw, the fact those towns weren’t dead means that the entire thing was crazy. And yes, of course we stopped. Do we look stupid to you?)

I suspect Europe was more easily commanded, at least from what I’ve seen, but it’s hard to tell, because their media is stupider than ours if you can imagine that.

I do know that these food shortages and things they’re expecting? Well, I don’t know about you, but all our neighbors are merrily turning lawn in to vegetable beds. (We intend to start this week. I hope I can find onion sets not sold out. I should have done it last week, but we’ve been busy.) I suspect our “overlords” are going to find their eyes spit upon when they try to put on the squeeze. It’s not just all those weapons we keep losing at the bottom of watercourses. (Seriously, guys, would you learn to canoe already? Or stop taking your guns on pleasure cruises, no matter how bored they get?) it’s that… well, we’re a tinkering people.

I won’t say other countries don’t have hobbies. I do say other countries don’t engage their hobbies like we engage our hobbies. Heck, in the seventies, when bread makers in Portugal went on strike people were baffled because they’d never made bread. (To be honest that is very Roman. Bread comes from the bakery, after all.)

Here? I know people who make cheese, beer and bread for fun. Son and daughter in law made mead. (Never figured out if it was drinkable. I don’t LIKE mead.) People can and pickle, and preserve. (I WANT to buy a freeze drying machine, but they’re spendy and I haven’t braved myself to doing it. Sigh. I’m afraid we wouldn’t use it enough to justify it. OTOH we do have nearby friends I’m sure would be happy to have a turn. Um.) I know soap makers, quilters, weavers. I know tinkerers, who can keep machines going more or less indefinitely. Younger son is working very seriously on his 3-d printing skills partly so we can keep things going if pieces are scarce.

I suspect that as we get squeezed, the impossibility that is America will come out in all sorts of odd and interesting ways. Impromptu schools, Victory gardens in every corner, new ways of doing things with what’s on hand.

I suspect it, because we’ve done it in the past. And before you say that we weren’t the same people: The spirit is still there. If you don’t see it, you are in an odd/depressed area of the country. And hey, maybe you should set the example by doing the impossible.

Do the impossible today. Say no to an authority figure. Speak the truth, when a lie is adamantly demanded. Subversively cast doubt on what everybody knows by saying “Well, sure, but maybe–“

If you can’t be impossible, be highly improbable. Totalitarianism requires widgets and predictable subjects. Refuse to be that.

Oh, they won’t let your kids go to school? Start a homeschool pod. They say there will be famines? Sure, start an edible garden (Some are even pretty.) They are making war on beef? Arrange with friends to purchase a cow to grow. They close or try to close churches again? Bah. Gather with some friends to pray.

Be polite, be clear, but do not fall in.

They try to get you into a defensive mode? Refuse to apologize. They call you names? But why should you defend yourself? Just give them the cut direct.

Being impossible is hard. Trust me on this. I’ve been impossible for years, while people kept trying to bring me back in line. (Peculiar you say? Impossible.) I ramped up the impossible by doubting the whole covidiocy, while people came over to yell at me, about being so…. impossible, and while my mom was screaming at me in panic over the phone every year. I ramped up the impossible by refusing to be black pilled. And I intend to continue not being blackpilled, btw. Yeah, it’s a depressing time and sometimes holding on to hope seems impossible.

However not being impossible — giving in, folding, behaving as they expect us to — that’s the true impossibility.

So you see, I really have no choice but to continue being impossible.

And I suspect neither do you. I mean, I think the most compliant among you are at worst — best? — highly improbable. And some of you are in the realm of impossibility of an entire universe in the flame of a match.

This is good. Again, I tell you: Totalitarianism requires predictability.

Be unpredictable. Be impossible.

Prepare, organize, work, thrive.

Refuse to let the chintzy bastages of the Junta and their fellow travelers hold you down.

Who are they to give orders to Americans? Who are they to hold us down?

We are eagles, and we were meant to soar. And we’re going to.

They ain’t seen nothing yet.

Book promo

If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*

FROM DAN MELSON: Moving The Pieces

The die is cast.

The demons have mobilized to attack the Empire, and Joe and Asina are behind enemy lines.

For 150 Earth years, Joe and Asina have been clandestinely helping the humans of Calmena prepare for the coming war. In that time, the Calmenans have gone from barely Iron Age to the brink of space. From scattered starveling communities hanging on by their fingernails to proud independent city-states. But now the demons are pushing enough troops through the Seven Gates of Calmena to wipe out the human cities in passing.

Joe and Asina will not allow that to happen.

FROM CHRISTOPHER DIGRAZIA: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of: A Theda Bara Mystery

THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

Hollywood, 1917. Silent movie queen Theda Bara is filming her epic, Cleopatra – “the one they’ll remember me for.” But when a studio extra turns up dead in a PR stunt gone wrong, Bara finds herself the center of intrigue, from a friend from the past who isn’t at all what she seems, to an Egyptian cult that wants her dead. With stars like Mary Pickford, Charlie Chaplin and Erich von Stroheim along for the ride, Bara and her loyal friend, makeup artist Toby Swanson, have to find out who is telling the truth, who is lying and whether it spells the end of Cleopatra. . .or of Hollywood itself.

FROM DAVE FREER: Save the Dragons.

Blundering through a series of fantasy world populated by dragons, dwarves, vampires, werewolves and worse, our hero, an inept alchemy student finds himself caught up in a heroic quest to save the dragons from tooth-hunting poachers, that threaten not only Zoar, a world of swamps and dragons, but all the worlds. He’s not built to be a hero, but someone has to do it.

FROM A. PALMER: Troubled Poems for Difficult People

This is a book of troubled poems
For difficult people.
The first of those people is me
I write them to myself
I write them about myself
But I don’t write them for myself.
If reading them helps, I am grateful.

“Troubled Poems for Difficult People” is a body of just under a hundred poems about philosophy, pain, and humility before God from a Christian perspective. It concludes with “Book of Weekdays,” intended as a meditation on mornings and evenings for each day of the week.

FROM M.C.A. HOGARTH: In the Court of Dragons: A Peltedverse Collection in the Fallowtide Period

Loose ends don’t tie themselves

Sweeping cultural changes sound very good on paper. But in the lives of normal people, even the ones who stand to benefit, those changes can be a challenge… one they might not have even asked for. In the Court of Dragons collects eight stories of the period after the events of the Chatcaavan War, focusing on changes both personal and widespread: old favorites return and new characters make their debut as we follow the effects of the war on everything from the imperial harem to the nascent Eldritch newsroom. What are the Faulfenza up to in the capital? What was the fate of the palace castrates? And who taught an Eldritch to… bungee jump?

This reader-commissioned collection includes stories written by the author at reader request. Come home to the Alliance with these tales of hope, renewal, comedy, and romance.

FROM ANNA FERREIRA: A Summer in Scarborough: A Pride & Prejudice Sequel.

Miss Anne de Bourgh was delighted to receive a letter from her cousin Georgiana, explaining that she would be spending the summer by the sea, and requesting the pleasure of her company. A glorious few months of balls, shopping, and walking by the sea awaits- a wonderfully diverting holiday for Anne, who has rarely left Rosings before.

But Anne is a de Bourgh, and life is never simple. Before long, she finds herself caught between the attentions of two very different men, and must choose if she will follow her heart or disoblige her family. One must be disappointed, and Anne has never been very practiced in the art of disobedience. Must she give up everything she has ever known, will she find the strength to search for happiness elsewhere?

FROM MACKEY CHANDLER: Another Word for Magic

Fleeing the Solar System after an attack by North America, the three Home habitats now have to seek their own fortunes. Heather, Sovereign of Central on the Moon saved them but now has to make certain the USNA can never threaten them again.
What was a tentative research partnership with the Red Tree Clan of Derfhome becomes a full alliance of equals. Lee finds she has to grasp authority and act for the Red Tree Mothers and herself to repossess the planet Providence she and Gordon discovered. The Claims Commission on Earth has collapsed without the leadership of North America. Explorers like her are cut off from their payments and the colonists on Providence are left in the lurch too. To do that she needs these powerful new allies.

FROM MAX BRAND, WITH INTRODUCTION BY D. JASON FLEMING: The Smoking Land (Annotated): A Pulp Super-Science Lost Civilization Adventure!

When rancher Smoky Bill’s closest friend, scientist Cleveland Darrell, disappeared in that lab explosion, everybody figured Darrell had died, his body vaporized. But when Bill finds out about a “fake” artifact that includes a fragment of Darrell’s writing, Bill knows he must follow his friend, and possibly rescue him. For that fragment of writing mentioned going north of Alaska, to “The Smoking Land”.

FROM DAVE FREER: Cloud-Castles.

Augustus Thistlewood was an idealist. The youngest scion of a vastly wealthy family, he’d come to help the poor, deprived people of the strange world of Sybill III – a gas-dwarf world with no habitable land. The human population, descendants of a crashed convict transport, lived on a tiny, crowded, alien antigravity plate they called ‘the Big Syd’, drifting through the clouds in the upper atmosphere. It was a few square miles of squalor, in a vast sea of sky, ruled by the degenerate relics of two alien empires.
The problem was that the people of the Big Syd wanted to help themselves, first – to his money, his liberty, and even his life.
Only two things stood between them and this: the first was his ‘assistant’ Briz, – a ragged urchin he’d picked up as a guide. She reckoned if anyone was going to steal from Augustus, it was going to be her, even if she had to keep him alive so that she could do it. And the second thing was Augustus himself. He didn’t know what ‘giving up’ meant. Actually, he didn’t know what most things meant. As a naïve, wide-eyed innocent blundering through the cess-pit of Sybill III, he was going to have to learn, mostly the hard way. Some of that learning was going to be out in the strange society that existed on the endless drifting clumps of airborne vegetation, and the Cloud-Castles of the aliens who hunted across them. Most of it was learning that philanthropy wasn’t quite what they’d taught him in college.

FROM PAM UPHOFF: Bad Tolz

Bad Tölz. A World named for a city on the Home World . . . Barely controlled by the “True Men” Mentalists of the Drei Mächte Bündnis. An unstable alliance of aggressive Worlds . . . on the brink of civil war.

Fynn, a bastard half-breed adopted by a friend of his dead father, was, despite his irregular antecedents, an ordinary college student. Then the increasing problems in in the Alliance led his new father to pull him into a secret society sworn to protect an Alliance that is crumbling.

When Bad Tölz is invaded, Fynn is all that stands between his World and brutal subjugation.

FROM CHRISTOPHER WOERNER: Convoy

Current events, essays on history and leftism. They’ve been at this for a very long time and now they’ve reached the highest point. I’m doing what I can but that pretty much comes down to analyzing and writing. One day I hope to figure out the ‘why they do it’ because it seems so anti-human. That’s why we have such misery and suffering.

This book mostly covers the Freedom Convoy and whatever the hell is going on with Russia and Ukraine. It comes off more like a sham than an actual war.

*Some of you tell me you couldn’t possibly publish your own books in indie. I just want to point out my friend’s cat, Henry, is a published author. Okay, so, sure, these are blank books/notebooks. But that is an accurate representation of Henry’s thoughts, so… (He’s almost as daft as Havey.) So, be brave. Be like Henry. (But with more words.) – SAH*

FROM MR. HENRY HAYDEN, ESQ.: Notebook: Pay Attention to MEEEE (So Sez Henry)

Super cute A5 notebook chronicling Henry’s DEMAND for attention. This warm design is perfect for the cat lover in your life.

Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.

So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.

If you have questions, feel free to ask.

Your writing prompt this week is: CALLOUS

It’s late, and I’m blah, and I should be writing….

I blame the cats for enticing me back to bed once I’d got up.

So this is a sorry excuse for a post, in which I’m going to give you a bunch of cool stock photos, then links to some blogs you should be looking at if you’re not.

Strangely, though in general superior, Pexels seems to have fewer “could make a cover out of this” illustrations than Pixabay. I suspect this is because I haven’t found the way to search it that will unlock them. As in “illustrations, not pictures.” https://www.pexels.com/@mikhail-nilov/ has a series of “woman in spacesuit” though that should be suitable for anyone doing space opera with a female protagonist, and they’re free.

This one is also nice, I suppose, though I get an “SF thriller” vibe from it, and it’s the only one of its kind by the photographer, so…. you know?

I mean, there’s lots of cool abstract things that look a lot like the science fiction covers of the 50s through 70s in Portugal. (Might still do. Portuguese publishers are CHEAP.)

And don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty. Just doesn’t signal genre as well as I personally like for my covers. Now could be totally used for a background, with, say, a fairy in the foreground, of course.

Pixabay, as usual has interesting stuff, though nothing so far that screams out “I must use this” (I’m also not looking for a cover, as such, more looking at things while the caffeine comes onboard.)

Though no offense, but some of ya’ll looking for a cover might do worse than this sort of generic thing:

Or this for your more woo woo SF:

I mean, I can totally see that for some of Clifford Simak’s stuff about aliens.

This for more generic:

Add a spaceship:

like this. Or this:

or even this:

(All from Pixabay) in that lower left corner, adjust the color to match, and you’re in the business.

Then are are some lovely, lovely images that can be used as is, but not (alas) for books I write. Like this one:

I think it could work very well for a Dave Freer book, mind. One he hasn’t written yet, of course.

And this would be perfect for a YA Science Fiction.

And if I ever write anything even vaguely Phillip K. Dick-esque (I have, but only short stories. I don’t think I could do a novel.) I will use this as a cover, mostly because it reminds me of the covers of his books. (In Portugal, at least.)

And okay, I’ve wasted enough of your time looking at pretty pictures, so for more substantial (and not mine) fodder.

If you’re not checking out Tilting at Windmills, by Tom Knighton, at substack, you should be. He’s a friend, yes, but also one of the people to whom I dole out my limited funds in subscription. Because he’s worth it.

The other two people I subscribe to are Frank Flemming’s Frank Talk (also at Substack.) Remember he’s the guy who started IMAO. Though here he mostly shares his fiction, you still won’t be disappointed.

I also subscribe to BillWhittle.com and have for years. I really need to figure out where I put my password. Since I can’t find it, I mostly watch the public stuff, but I still think the endeavor is worth supporting.

Speaking of that, and supporting, and subscriptions, the boys have been at me again, on “you need to have an annual fundraiser on the blog.” Sigh. They’re probably not wrong, since this costs me a couple of hours or more a day, and 2k a year seems paltry for that. (And that’s about what I get from subscriptions. Okay, there’s another 1 to 2k from the Amazon associates account, but still.)

Reluctantly, I think I am going to do it. Mostly because people like Jerry Pournelle tried for years to get me to do it. (As does Chris Muir.) But also because husband needs to stop working sixty hour weeks. That’s fine when you’re in your twenties but when you’re staring sixty in the face it gets old. Also leads to car-fixing expenses. (Don’t ask. Truly.)

No, this won’t be an emergency like the last one (You guys have no idea how much you saved my bacon. Without it, we wouldn’t have been able to extricate ourselves from the house, as we had to have stuff done for the deal to close. Thank you.) And it will be a scheduled thing.

Son suggested I do it on the 4th of July. Or at least that week. And that makes sense. There will be prizes and stuff, too. But absolutely no balloons and face painting. Unless you guys want virtual face painting. (Have paintshop, will not travel.)

So anyway, that’s something I’ll do. Er…. unless all of you think I’m out of my mind.

The “Boxes from Sarah’s Garage” are coming. What happened is that we had to pack them and move them, and son has spent the last month and a half sorting and organizing the contents, so we can DO something. Right now we’re doing the “How much do we even charge?” (December, January and February son was attempting to cough up a lung, which is not conducive to doing much of anything. Eh.)

And this weekend I need to finish Bowl of Red (Maybe it IS cursed) while hampered by prednisone, which makes me sleep. (Apparently this is contrary to everyone else. Well, you know, 23 and me says part of dad’s genetic contribution is “from unknown origin” so maybe I am part alien?)

Which bring us back to interesting or in this case weird links.

I again re-iterate that going to zerohedge is what I do in lieu of climbing into a filled bathtub holding a plugged-in toaster. You can tell how crazy I am by how much I check it. So…. three times to five times a day is probably not good.

But this is weird even for zerohedge. And to be fair, it’s not THEIR weirdness.

Pentagon Report Claims UFOs Left “Radiation Burns” & “Unaccounted-For Pregnancies” After Encounters.

And if you just said “What in the name of light fandango?” yeah, that’s what I said too.

I’m just going to say that whenever Democrats are fully in charge everyone starts seeing UFOs or talking about UFOs. Maybe it’s a “Beam me up, Scottie,” effect/wish.

Moving right along, you should probably check Spin, Strangeness and Charm at least once a week.

Samizdata is often interesting.

I’ve been reading Neoneocon for decades, and when I disagree with her it’s because we followed different but equally valid tracks. I sympathize with her — what now would be called red pill — experience of political conversion, because even though I was never leftist, I did grow up in Europe, where the center and even the right are leftist. So it took me a long time to figure out “Liberty-right” or American right. So we have commonality.

Kim Du Toit, whom older son (who greatly likes him) refers to as a “retired space pirate” (It fits, somehow) has Splendid Isolation. If you’re going to pearl clutch over semi-clad or wholly unclad women don’t go over, but he often has insights combined with devastating humor. And he’s almost — almost — as angry as I am these days.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t direct you at Behind the Black. Some politics, but a lot of space news. Now if I could find the like site for dinosaurs, my life would be complete. :D

As for the state of the writer, in case you’re wondering, other than sleeping a lot (mostly prednisone, though I suspect also healing from all that’s been going on) I’m getting better. I mean, I’m not reading dinosaurs, true crime, or fan fiction. I’ve clawed my way up to (clean) regency romances. Next up his mysteries, historic mysteries, and eventually science fiction again. (Look, guys, it’s a slog once I fall all the way to true crime, which I did mid-last year.)

The sun is shining. I have flowerbeds to build. But first I need to finish Bowl of Red which is a …. very weird book. No, I mean, even for me.

Bows. Exists stage left.

Don’t even think of sending the bear after me. Not even if it’s just a guy in a bear suit. PARTICULARLY not if it’s a guy in a bear suit.