In all fairness, I don't seem to either. Care to go exploring? |
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Through windows closed and shuttered you can see where fun was had, Where tales were served by a young barkeep, a story-tellin' lad. The barmaids teased and plied their trade twixt the tables, dark and light, And the patrons there gave not a thought to the lurking veil of night. But night did come, as it always must, and the lamps went dark at last, And the barmaids left, and the patrons, too, and the barkeep's grief was vast. It's said if you pass on the lonely road where the tavern stands abandoned, You can still hear, if you strain your ear, the barkeep's pen a'scratchin'. Some call him a phantom, some call him a fool, but call him what you will, He'll never give up on the stories he told 'til they're back, his tavern to fill. So give him a thought on your busy road, and stop for a while as you pass, 'Cause you just never know when the stories will flow, and the thrill will return at last! Hello and welcome. My name is Jack, and for around a decade, my "muse," whatever you conceive that to be, has been lying in a coma. I refuse to give up on her, and am currently focused on bringing an old endeavor, "The Orphan Princess" Thanks for your support. You guys are the best! Jack...
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| Good morning, friends and followers, and I hope it finds you well. With a title like that, you wouldn't be wrong in guessing that it finds me capricious. You see, I'm not here to offer an exposé on my beloved horror genre. I'm not even offering a story. So, what, you may ask, is coming "up from the grave?" Funny you should ask. Back last September, I offered a forum, the idea being that you could talk to me, ask questions, open topics of interest to you, and so forth, and I would reply. That never really took off, and around mid-December I gave it up as a distraction that didn't have a worthwhile payoff, it garnering a single rating of three stars and going weeks between comments. So I marked it private with a view toward deleting it altogether if no one protested its disappearance. Well, no one protested and I didn't miss it any more than anyone else did, but there's a little snag in my whole get-rid-of-it program: It's been nominated for a Quill Award in the Best New Forum category. I don't know who nominated it ~ that's forbidden ~ and I don't think it's the sort of thing that will finish in the top ten, but someone does, and what a slap in the face to the nominator to find that they thought something was worthy of a Quill, and my response to that is to delete the item. Add to that the fact that I'm curious as to how it might stack up, and it is, quite literally, coming up from the grave. I think I know how it will fare, but it isn't for us to decide how others view our efforts, so here it is in all it's glory... or something:
I have two other active projects that I'd like to keep in the public eye. One is that I'm transcribing Book III of Beyond the Rails, which is rapidly approaching completion:
Finally, I have a long-unfinished story that I am working on in an attempt to bring my "muse," whatever that is, up from the grave. It's a fantasy with a large nautical component, and some widely-scattered characters who are slowly being brought together for what I hope will be a slam-bang finish:
And that's 30 for today. Hope you all have a wonderful Sunday. You guys are the best! Stay inspired, Jack |
| A very good morning to all my wonderful friends, and I hope it finds you full of hope for the new year. I'm back from my customary Thursday hiatus and hopeful for a few things, but it finds me full of honesty as regards my WdC membership, and that's what I'm here to address. The first thing you will have noticed is the new cover. That is a photograph of the design on a jacket that doesn't fit me anymore, but the photograph does. The skull represents my love of the horror genre, and the gears inside and scattered around, my enjoyment of steampunk, the genre where I first achieved some minor recognition. This replaces the plaque I was awarded by "The WDC Angel Army" Second, I feel the need to fess up: I'm not here to participate in the same way that all of you are. It's been years since I've produced anything original, and it's long past time that I stop pretending that the "muse" is going to come back refreshed from her ten-year vacation. I'm familiar with WdC from previous memberships, and I came here because it seemed a stable site to store all the things I wrote years ago when I was active. That's what you see in my portfolio now. This includes the supposedly "new" work, "The Orphan Princess" Finally, once I returned, I found a vast universe of your fantastic stories, poems, and even novels to read, and I initiated an award, "Jack's Diamonds" So that's the new course I've set to navigate 2026. I once was a writer. I may be again, but I'm going to stop pretending that I currently am. Peruse the port and enjoy the stories. Encouragement and even suggestions for possible ways to take The Orphan Princess wouldn't go amiss, but don't expect to see a lot of new material going up. There's a vanishingly small store of that in the warehouse. But I wish you all the best, and look forward to discovering more and more of your fine writing. You guys are the best! Stay inspired, Jack ![]() "Best Reviewer" Category |
| Good morning, all, and welcome back. You may have seen this annoying "six things" infection making the rounds, and now it looks like it's my turn. An acquaintance of mine, Amethyst Snow Angel 1. I was born in the witching hour under a waxing crescent moon. I do not believe that explains either my love of being alone, or my love of suspenseful horror, but it's a fun story. 2. My great-grandmother had me reading at the age of three. I've enjoyed it ever since. It made for a rough first-grade, as the other kids would be struggling with "S-s-seeeee... Diiiick... r-ruuuun..." while I'm banging my head on my desk, mentally screaming, "GET ON WITH IT!" My fifth-grade teacher encouraged me to write, and I've never looked back. She would read some of our stories anonymously to the class, and mine were always highly-rated. If only no one had liked them, I probably wouldn't be in this rut today. 3. Through a bizarre combination of circumstances, I grew up lower-middle class in Point Loma, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the San Diego region. But down the hill was Ocean Beach, a community of hippies, beatniks, and surfers, where I spent every moment that I could get away. "Safe Haven" 4. I joined the navy at 17. I knew that I wasn't doing well in school, I wasn't going to college, and that I would soon be drafted; it was 1965. Why not choose my service? So I chose the one where you at least get hot meals and running water, no matter what else is going on. During my hitch, I served on a minesweeper, an oil tanker, and the big communications hub on Guam. I did some time in Vietnam, and have seven medals, all for time-in-service, nothing heroic. I rode out two hurricanes on the minesweeper and a typhoon on the oiler. I am officially ~ and still ~ salty. By the way, only one of my friends from Point Loma served, and that was by choice. The rest of them all found ways to duck out of serving the country that enabled them to live their privileged lifestyles. 5. Of all the skills the navy taught me, the one that took me the farthest was the ability to type. That and my five-point Veteran's Preference got me a job as a supply clerk with the navy. I met my wife on my first job (more on her later), and worked my way into the Fuel Department of the big Naval Air Station in the middle of San Diego Bay. Once there, I worked myself into a job as the safety, fire, and environmental inspector for the fuel operation. I can never know what might have happened during operations I was present at if I hadn't been there, but it's possible, just possible, that my presence may have saved lives and expensive equipment from young sailors taking shortcuts. 6. I met my wife in 1975. She is the most amazing person I've ever crossed paths with, and we just celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary last week. She gave us twin boys and a daughter just over a year later. We had great fun raising them ~ mostly ~ and while the boys are scattered across the continent, our daughter lives with us and looks out for the old folks, running errands, squiring us around to appointments and whatnot, and being the third leg of our social triangle. It's been a wonderful life, and I look forward to a lot more of it to come. We're old and wearing out; she's in a wheelchair and my back is shot, but love makes up for it all. And there you are, six things that are interesting to me, at least. Hopefully you found them to be amusing if nothing else. Now the rest of the requirement is that I have to infect ~ I mean nominate ~ three other people, and I decided that, rather than go after friends of mine for years, I would pick out some newbies and let them make themselves known. Sound good? I hope so, because the following members may consider themselves tagged: Vicious Alex Emberly Gray Ready, set, GO! J |
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Good morning, friends, and I hope it finds you well! What's with this title, you ask? Well, it has been a madhouse of activity and anticipation leading up to the Holiday. Oh, we're not unique in that? Yeah, I think we all understand each other. The shopping, wrapping, and decorating is in the wake, the anticipation subsided as the gifts were opened, and now we're all looking at piles of crumpled paper and cardboard that we somehow need to cram into our waste cans so we can all fit in our homes again. We've catalogued our swag, and I hope we all liked it ~ I know I did ~ and now it's time to start easing back toward our regular routine. I get to enjoy a few more days with my son before he heads back to Colorado, and then the clean-up starts in earnest with an even larger task looming after that. But a few more days of peace. I'll take them. But I'm going to do some clean-up on my port earlier than that, in fact, immediately. Look, I've been trying to return to form as an author, but I have created an assortment of distractions for myself that vie for my attention every time I log in. This blog is one of them, but it's a good place for me to "think out loud," and sound for opinions on some of my wilder ideas. But in the interim, I started two forums ~ fora? ~ that seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, one hasn't had a visit in 17 days, and the other had one enthusiastic visitor, then went to crickets thereafter. These are unnecessary distractions that I don't need to deal with, and are accordingly being closed forthwith. I'm going to mark them Private for right now to give myself time to consider my options, but I don't see myself starting up again. Both were experiments, and while it's too early to deem them outright failures, they are things I don't need to be spending mental effort on while I'm trying to return to form as an author. So there you have it. You don't need two forums to talk to me. I have an e-mail address, and anything you want to discuss may end up as a post here anyway. I love you guys, I don't want to shun anyone, but those experiments didn't pan out. Let's see if I can wow you with some literature instead! J |
Good evening. It's the wee hours, the madhouse has quieted down, and I have a few moments to write. It's time to deliver my third gift of Christmas. You've suffered through the lunacy of "Star Drek"
Hope to see you there! Have a very merry Christmas, Jack |
| I suppose the title should really be "Who WAS I as a Writer," given the conversations I've been dispensing here, but I'm still trying, and I'm not going to give up that easily. I'm in for the long haul. But when I write, I have a certain style ~ we all do ~ and mine has always had a certain feel about it. This is a quick dissertation about where that style came from... If you're interested. I was a child of the '50s, which means that I just caught the tail end of the old Victorian manners and attitudes as they were being swept out to make room for the modern era of snatchin' and grabbin', of "Me first, and eff you!" I miss those times. More to the point, as a lifelong avid reader, I did my formative reading in the genre of adventure books for boys. This was a time when villains were cads, ladies were elegant, and the hero had perfect teeth... and since it was fairly obvious that no one else was going to write them anymore, I made it my business to write them myself. And here's the funny thing: Unless a few dozen total strangers who don't know each other are lying through their teeth for no other reason than to boost my ego, virtually everyone who reads these stories and takes the time to leave a comment or write a review, LOVES them! I have always felt humbled, honored, and blown away by turns. I had no idea that something so obsolete could strike such a chord with so many diverse people. And if that answers any questions you may have had, I'm pleased to do it; this is where I talk to you. If you'd like to discuss this, the comment section awaits. If you'd like to discuss anything else, ask a question, recommend a read, the place for that is "Scribblers' Den" Stay inspired! Jack |
| Good morning, wonderful person, and I hope it finds you well! I'm here today for a couple of reasons. First is that according to my stat page, many, many people visit this blog every day; my forum, "Scribblers' Den" In my travels yesterday, I ran across this meme: WRITER'S BLOCK: When your imaginary friends stop talking to you. That is honestly the best description I've ever heard. I have a head full of imaginary friends, and I haven't heard a peep from them since... Let me see. I self-published The Stone Seekers in 2016, and I shopped that around for over a year after I finished it, so I'd have to say it's been at least a decade. Wherever do they go? Is there an unemployment office for characters who won't get up and perform anymore? Do they draw some kind of imaginary welfare? They must be making a living somehow, 'cause they sure ain't working for me! I talked recently about working on one story at a time, steeping myself in it, and avoiding all other distractions. I can't tell if it's going to work yet, but here's the lowdown: I have this old story, a novel really, that I was working on when something else came up, some trendy story that I have no memory of now, but it served to derail "The Orphan Princess" And that's what I've been up to lately. From this point on, I'll keep an eye out for things that might make interesting blog posts and try to get things up here before all that interest I spoke of dies out. So, what have you been up to lately? Stay inspired! J |
| Good morning, all, and I hope it finds you well. It finds me thrilled... overall. I was supposed to write a review today but I couldn't get my head around it, and rather than give some unsuspecting newbie a half-assed review, I decided I'd blog instead. So here I am. Now, what to blog about? Hmmm... Oh, I know! I said I was thrilled, and that's quite true. My little "let's chew the fat" forum, "Scribblers' Den" But that isn't what I came here for. As everyone knows by now, I have been a prolific writer over a period of decades, but all that has gone away. I miss it terribly, and signed on here and began reviewing in the hope that rubbing up against the talented writers on the site and dissecting their work would snap my "muse" out of her coma. It hasn't, but apparently I'm a fair hand at reviewing, and the site has been kind enough to recognize it. Perhaps next year... but this is now, and I'm thrilled to recognized for something to do with writing, even if it isn't what I'd hoped. Of course, I can't be too put out by these developments. I mean, I knew what I was doing when I came here. My first handle was The Phantom Reviewer and "Jack's Diamonds" Finally, a word about my username: I stormed out of here under a cloud a couple of years ago, and after waiting a while, wanted to tip-toe back in and turn over a new leaf. My handle in the old days was Blimprider, and some of you who had your toes trod upon by that A-hole may remember him. I couldn't very well use that again, so, the story behind holttaylor: Holt is my middle name; Taylor is what everyone I deal with invariably calls me two seconds after I say "It's Tyler, T-Y-L-E-R." And there you have it, a snapshot of me today, December 8th, 2025... For what it's worth. I hope you know me a little better now, and find me even more interesting. Have a great day, and I'll see you around the stacks. Stay inspired, Jack |
| Good morning, my friends, and I hope it finds you well. It still finds me struggling. Anyone who has paid more than casual attention to my scribblings here knows that for decades I was a writer until one day about a decade ago the muse left for parts unknown. That's the external story, the one that everybody sees who takes more than a casual glance. Today, I'm going to share the internal story, the one I feel and wrestle with every waking moment. This is how I view the Craft of writing: Whether your goal is to become educated or be entertained, whether your chosen medium is books, movies, TV shows, plays, comedy skits, or eulogies, all have one thing in common: None of them exist without writers. I have been a part of that community, and it's something I've lost. I feel that loss deeply, and I want with all my heart and soul to get it back. I've started story after story only to see them die in utero. My family know how bad I want this. On Father's Day I was gifted the Lore Masters Deck and on my birthday, the Story Engine Deck plus its horror supplement, Written in Ash and Bone. These are inspired prompt generators, and I'll provide a link below. But that isn't my point. I had some of these cards out playing around with them, and I realized that I don't need a prompt. I have nearly a dozen stories right here in my port that I've abandoned in frustration. They all grew from good ideas that I formed without any prompts other than my own imagination. If I can't bring those home to satisfying conclusions, what am I going to find in those boxes? Maybe if I can get my love affair with the Craft rekindled, then the cards might spark some future projects, but right now, it's all on me to fish or cut bait. These are unfinished stories that began in a blaze of glory then fell by the wayside as interest waned and boredom set in:
(If prompted for a passkey, it is ATTIC) These are completed stories that were intended to be the genesis of series, but for one reason or another, I never followed up on them:
Eight stories waiting for life, and here I am looking for prompts. Do you have any opinions on these stories all waiting to start? Do any of them intrigue you in a way that would make you want to see where they might go? I'm not saying that I'll ever finish any of them, but I don't want to sit on the sidelines watching the sand in my hourglass run out, and maybe a word of encouragement or an expression of curiosity over one or another of them would get me pointed in a direction that's more likely to lead somewhere then not. I deem it worth a look, hence this particular post on this particular morning. Any thoughts? J PS: here's that link: The Story Engine |
| Good morning. I'm here to scarf down a big helping of crow. Anybody know any good recipes? It was five days ago. Let me underline that. Five. Days. Ago. A work week back, I was on here crowing about breaking the shackles that held me at the keyboard even though I haven't been able to produce anything original for a decade, and here I am. I'm frankly embarrassed, but let me try to present this in order. Last night I had finished up a gaming session. Borderlands, a mindless shooter where you're trying to find an alien vault that may or may not exist, and in the course of your travels, you blast anything that moves. The watchword is, "If it's growin', it's goin'!" So, I completed the errand I was on, and as there wasn't time to complete another one, I decided to watch a couple of YouTube videos before I turned in. YouTube, as they always do, offered a page of suggestions for me to look at, and this one caught my eye: It will be readily apparent what "caught my eye" if you actually follow the link, but never mind that. This is a song, a modernized sea shanty, and the girl has a voice that marches down your spine and leaves a lust for adventure in your soul. Years ago, I began a seagoing fantasy that died at the midpoint (it was early in the Comatose Muse period), and I moved on to other things, things that likewise failed to come to completion. But, driven by that song and the voice that sings it, I have dusted it off and intend to see whether it will sail, so to speak. I'll gradually put up what I have as I return to the way I used to do things, building a road map in the form of a detailed outline, and we'll see what happens. Here's the prologue; wish me luck!
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