From the collection: Murder at Thompson Bog
Episode 3
Evening found me eating a ready-made meal with whiskey and water. The television show was one I'd seen before but I couldn't tell you what happened next. Finding a picture was tough and I could only get two channels in that neighborhood; it was the land that time forgot.
Outside the window the usual show was going on, shouting and shooting, sirens and horns; how could people live like that? Why did they stay? Why did I, for that matter?
I decided that I stayed because I couldn't find another place to live in that price range and got up to get myself a second drink. Trying one of my theories: I only had two whiskey and water the other night so that night I poured three. More is better, right?
On the TV, the bad guy was taken down and the commercial came on. I turned the television off, then turned it back on but lowered the sound. I was on my way to get the second drink so I couldn't go to bed yet. I got a fresh glass, just so I could keep score.
With three empty glasses in front of me, I looked up to see that the host's monologue was a repeat; he told that joke before and to just as few laughs. I turned the tube off and fell into bed.
In my dream, Ted took a small envelope out of his shirt pocket and went into the dining room. The envelope was from the lab, blue like those that held samples of Luna-B. He opened the envelope and poured some of the powder into the glasses of iced tea. Ted had tears in his eyes. In his hand he held a piece of paper, white with thin lines and a ragged corner, torn from a pad at the lab. Across the paper he had written, “I love you and the kids.”
I woke up sweating to the sound of banging on the wall next to me. “You wanna shut up in there? People are trying to sleep!” shouted the guy in the next apartment. I held still, gripping the sweat-soaked sheets, hoping he'd shut up.
“It's not like when you live in a house,” I whispered to myself, “where you can scream in peace.”
After a few minutes of quiet, I got up to get a glass of water then returned to bed, looking at the ceiling, trying to think of anything to stay awake. I couldn't think of anything at all other than my dream and my own deplorable situation. I got up and turned on the television. A sexy woman was licking her lips inviting me to call her. She said she was waiting just for me. I laughed, “Not if you could see me,” and turned to the other channel. The late-late-late show was just wrapping up.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Luna Nightmares
From the collection: Murder at Thompson Bog
Episode 2
Horns woke me. I was toppled over onto the couch; my neck and back were stiff. I got up and went into the bathroom, stubbing a toe on the way.
Standing in front of the mirror as the florescent bulb flickered to life, I looked myself over. 'Gees! I look terrible. No wonder Carol left. No, that wasn't it,' I told myself, starting my daily routine, going through the steps as if it mattered. 'It was the fights, the long hours, the second drink, then the third just to tune out the day. Then a fourth to tune out Carol, screaming how I promised her more.' I sighed deeply, picked up a razor and looked at it. 'Not much chance of me cutting myself badly enough to do any good. Might as well just shave.'
An hour later I pulled into the lot at Lunadyne, parking far away from the entrance, hoping no one would see me in a car I ordinarily would have traded two years earlier. The back stairs were rarely used and even more rarely swept; they had become my 'main entrance' so as not to be detected by co-workers I wanted to avoid. Only Ted was in the lab as I opened the door.
“Hi Ted,” I cheerily tossed over to him, already in his white coat and looking over the results of yesterday's tests.
“Hi Phil,” Ted said without looking up. “C might be the one. C seems to be testing like we hoped Luna-A and B would. If these preliminary results keep up we may have something.”
“Glad to hear it. That'll take some heat off.” I said as I busied myself with some items on the desk, trying to get up some excitement for the work. Ted nodded solemnly.
There hadn't been a lot of enthusiasm of late. Word came down that Lunaprex was falling off, people were starting to think of it as the 'old way' to handle depression. “Other brands are touting new cures to new stresses of life,” said the people upstairs in the rarefied air of the board room, “the public wants breakthroughs – Lunaprex is something they already knew about; It's yesterday's news!”
Luna-A, as we called it until Marketing could come up with a catchy name, was the answer. Fewer side effects and a stronger internal formula with a thinner, faster-acting coating made Luna-A a leading contender for the top slot in the anti-depressant race. “A” removed the highs and lows of life leaving a gray middle ground where nothing was very good, but nothing was very bad. It was like whiskey-and-water in a capsule.
There was only one problem with “A”; the subjects died. We couldn't tell what it was that made “A” deadly, because every autopsy result was different, thought the results were the same. After a dose of Luna-A, the subjects would convulse wildly and eventually beat themselves to death. It was ugly and very disturbing to watch. It was a wonder I didn't have nightmares about that.
Luna-B was much better. There were no fits, no convulsions, no beating of oneself to death. It was a breakthrough. “B” was testing well in the lab, then went to the animals where it tested well, then to human tests where one of the subjects simply dropped his head into his mashed potatoes. We went back to the lab.
We found what was causing it this time. One of the masking ingredients interacted badly with common foods, resulting in death. You could take Luna-B safely, you just couldn't eat. It was a disaster. Pressure was on from the board room upstairs to come up with a safe product.
Reformulation of “B”, avoiding the pitfalls of “A” brought us to what we called, naturally enough, “C.” When tests began, first in the lab, then on animals, it seemed to be working. Of course, no one breathed that sigh of relief until human test subjects took it without dying.
“Yes, this may be it,” said Ted calmly, not being one to get excited prematurely. “The first returns seem to be within acceptable levels.”
“You mean no one has died yet?” I asked, standing beside Ted looking over his shoulder at the results.
“Precisely!” said Ted. “Of course, we're still doing in-house lab tests.”
We both scanned the reports in silence.
“You up for a coffee?” I asked, once the report was fully digested.
“Yes, I'm ready for a coffee,” replied Ted, putting the report down and turning his attention to more worldly things.
The coffee bar was a long walk from the lab on purpose. We wouldn't want anything falling into the coffee, now would we?
“How's things?” I ventured.
“Things?” replied Ted.
“Yeah, you know, Alice, the kids, life in general.”
“Great! Couldn't be better. Alice is going to start photography classes now that both the kids are in school. They're doing great, seem to get on well in the school environment. All in all, life is good. The only cloud on the horizon is the Luna-alphabet problem.”
“Well, I'm glad things are good at home.” I was, in fact, glad to hear it. Of course, that meant that my dream was totally a projection of my own problems, but that was expected.
“And how are you, Phil. Adjusting OK?” asked Ted.
“As well as can be expected, but I could sure use a bonus.” Carol was financially draining me dry. She must have gotten advice from every divorced friend and sister she had. Carol had three divorced sisters, all full of spite and advice.
“The failures were costly. Some of those test subjects had relatives who want to be compensated. I doubt there will be a bonus,” Ted said, wincing at his coffee.
“They were homeless volunteers – paid volunteers who signed wavers. Any family they had abandoned them years ago. How can they expect compensation?”
“That's the way the world works. People smell money and the third-cousin twice-removed-that-never-got-invited-to-Thanksgiving-dinner suddenly becomes a terrible loss to the family.”
Ted and I stood there, looking into our coffees and pondering the ways of the world.
Episode 2
Horns woke me. I was toppled over onto the couch; my neck and back were stiff. I got up and went into the bathroom, stubbing a toe on the way.
Standing in front of the mirror as the florescent bulb flickered to life, I looked myself over. 'Gees! I look terrible. No wonder Carol left. No, that wasn't it,' I told myself, starting my daily routine, going through the steps as if it mattered. 'It was the fights, the long hours, the second drink, then the third just to tune out the day. Then a fourth to tune out Carol, screaming how I promised her more.' I sighed deeply, picked up a razor and looked at it. 'Not much chance of me cutting myself badly enough to do any good. Might as well just shave.'
An hour later I pulled into the lot at Lunadyne, parking far away from the entrance, hoping no one would see me in a car I ordinarily would have traded two years earlier. The back stairs were rarely used and even more rarely swept; they had become my 'main entrance' so as not to be detected by co-workers I wanted to avoid. Only Ted was in the lab as I opened the door.
“Hi Ted,” I cheerily tossed over to him, already in his white coat and looking over the results of yesterday's tests.
“Hi Phil,” Ted said without looking up. “C might be the one. C seems to be testing like we hoped Luna-A and B would. If these preliminary results keep up we may have something.”
“Glad to hear it. That'll take some heat off.” I said as I busied myself with some items on the desk, trying to get up some excitement for the work. Ted nodded solemnly.
There hadn't been a lot of enthusiasm of late. Word came down that Lunaprex was falling off, people were starting to think of it as the 'old way' to handle depression. “Other brands are touting new cures to new stresses of life,” said the people upstairs in the rarefied air of the board room, “the public wants breakthroughs – Lunaprex is something they already knew about; It's yesterday's news!”
Luna-A, as we called it until Marketing could come up with a catchy name, was the answer. Fewer side effects and a stronger internal formula with a thinner, faster-acting coating made Luna-A a leading contender for the top slot in the anti-depressant race. “A” removed the highs and lows of life leaving a gray middle ground where nothing was very good, but nothing was very bad. It was like whiskey-and-water in a capsule.
There was only one problem with “A”; the subjects died. We couldn't tell what it was that made “A” deadly, because every autopsy result was different, thought the results were the same. After a dose of Luna-A, the subjects would convulse wildly and eventually beat themselves to death. It was ugly and very disturbing to watch. It was a wonder I didn't have nightmares about that.
Luna-B was much better. There were no fits, no convulsions, no beating of oneself to death. It was a breakthrough. “B” was testing well in the lab, then went to the animals where it tested well, then to human tests where one of the subjects simply dropped his head into his mashed potatoes. We went back to the lab.
We found what was causing it this time. One of the masking ingredients interacted badly with common foods, resulting in death. You could take Luna-B safely, you just couldn't eat. It was a disaster. Pressure was on from the board room upstairs to come up with a safe product.
Reformulation of “B”, avoiding the pitfalls of “A” brought us to what we called, naturally enough, “C.” When tests began, first in the lab, then on animals, it seemed to be working. Of course, no one breathed that sigh of relief until human test subjects took it without dying.
“Yes, this may be it,” said Ted calmly, not being one to get excited prematurely. “The first returns seem to be within acceptable levels.”
“You mean no one has died yet?” I asked, standing beside Ted looking over his shoulder at the results.
“Precisely!” said Ted. “Of course, we're still doing in-house lab tests.”
We both scanned the reports in silence.
“You up for a coffee?” I asked, once the report was fully digested.
“Yes, I'm ready for a coffee,” replied Ted, putting the report down and turning his attention to more worldly things.
The coffee bar was a long walk from the lab on purpose. We wouldn't want anything falling into the coffee, now would we?
“How's things?” I ventured.
“Things?” replied Ted.
“Yeah, you know, Alice, the kids, life in general.”
“Great! Couldn't be better. Alice is going to start photography classes now that both the kids are in school. They're doing great, seem to get on well in the school environment. All in all, life is good. The only cloud on the horizon is the Luna-alphabet problem.”
“Well, I'm glad things are good at home.” I was, in fact, glad to hear it. Of course, that meant that my dream was totally a projection of my own problems, but that was expected.
“And how are you, Phil. Adjusting OK?” asked Ted.
“As well as can be expected, but I could sure use a bonus.” Carol was financially draining me dry. She must have gotten advice from every divorced friend and sister she had. Carol had three divorced sisters, all full of spite and advice.
“The failures were costly. Some of those test subjects had relatives who want to be compensated. I doubt there will be a bonus,” Ted said, wincing at his coffee.
“They were homeless volunteers – paid volunteers who signed wavers. Any family they had abandoned them years ago. How can they expect compensation?”
“That's the way the world works. People smell money and the third-cousin twice-removed-that-never-got-invited-to-Thanksgiving-dinner suddenly becomes a terrible loss to the family.”
Ted and I stood there, looking into our coffees and pondering the ways of the world.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Short Story Collection for Summer
I've decided to release my three Short Story Collections for Summer. I will begin with the stories of the first collection, "Murder at Thompson Bog."
From the collection: Murder at Thompson Bog
Luna Nightmares
Episode 1
It began with a nightmare; it was one I couldn't shake. I could see Ted in his house, the house I had been to several times before, the house I used to live next to back when we carpooled to Lunadyne Corp.
In the nightmare, Ted is sitting in his kitchen looking at a piece of paper. It's white with lines, torn from a pad like the ones at work. A corner is torn crooked, as if ripped too quickly from the pad. The words are large and in block letters. Ted is crying. He picks up his drink and tosses it back, placing the empty glass back on the counter. Ted then walks back into the dining room where his wife, Alice, and two kids, Tyler and Spencer, are at the table with their heads tilted down, eyes open and staring at nothing, arms limp and spilled glasses ignored. Ted is crying and touches Alice's hand. He places the note on the table next to her and reels to the side, falling to the floor.
That was when I woke up, sweating and shaking. The clock said 4:13. The darkness outside confirmed that dawn had not yet broken. There were still voices coming from the 24-hour convenience store at the corner. Somewhere a siren grew louder, then stopped. I could hear a television through the walls. I sat up, turning and groping for a glass of water. It was empty. I sat on the side of the bed, trying to wake up enough to stand and get more water.
The dream haunted me even awake. Ted had killed his wife and his two beautiful kids. Tyler was in little league and king of third base. Spencer was a ballerina, precious even with a tooth missing. I smiled to think of them. Then shuddered to think that he killed them – only in my dream, of course, but still.
The siren picked up again. A car passed and lights danced across the dingy ceiling. I struggled to my feet and took the glass into the kitchen.
'What in the world could it mean, that dream?' I thought to myself. 'Ted loves his family.'
Who wouldn't? Alice was great! I should have done so well! When Carol and I were fighting over the house and other possessions I would sometimes look at Alice and wish I had met her instead.
Carol sold the house and everything in it, moved back to Omaha and that was that. Keeping her in the manner to which she had become accustomed was keeping me in a cheap apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. At least we had no kids to squabble over, but if I had met Alice and we had Tyler and Spencer, I think I would've been a happy man.
'So why would I dream that Ted killed them?' I leaned against the sink, turned the faucet and let the water run – it was still warm. The noise from outside the open window, a mix of sirens, dogs barking, drunks cursing and cars passing, even at four-something in the morning, seemed a fitting sound track for my life. What a mess I had made of it. And now I was having nightmares in which my best friend kills his family and then himself.
'But Ted is happy,' I thought, standing straight again. I held the glass under the spigot, filling it to the top. 'He has a good job – stressful, but still good. He's one of the top chemists at Lunadyne, one of the men who came up with Lunaprex, the leading anti-depressant on the market. He has a great life – there is no reason why he should do such a thing. So that's it.' I end the conversation in my head with the only answer, 'It's not Ted, it's me. I am reflecting my own disheveled life onto him in my dreams and in the process scaring myself silly. Am I going crazy? Is this the first sign of dementia?'
I drank the entire glass of water and held the empty glass under the still running spigot. I let the water run over onto my hand. It felt good. I wondered, was I drinking too much or too little lately. 'I only had a couple of drinks last night: whiskey and water, not large. Maybe I should go to three. Maybe I should go on the wagon. Either way, something has to change.'
The lights of passing cars played across the ceiling and wall as I walked to the couch. When the glass was empty, I put it on the table and stared into space.
From the collection: Murder at Thompson Bog
Luna Nightmares
Episode 1
It began with a nightmare; it was one I couldn't shake. I could see Ted in his house, the house I had been to several times before, the house I used to live next to back when we carpooled to Lunadyne Corp.
In the nightmare, Ted is sitting in his kitchen looking at a piece of paper. It's white with lines, torn from a pad like the ones at work. A corner is torn crooked, as if ripped too quickly from the pad. The words are large and in block letters. Ted is crying. He picks up his drink and tosses it back, placing the empty glass back on the counter. Ted then walks back into the dining room where his wife, Alice, and two kids, Tyler and Spencer, are at the table with their heads tilted down, eyes open and staring at nothing, arms limp and spilled glasses ignored. Ted is crying and touches Alice's hand. He places the note on the table next to her and reels to the side, falling to the floor.
That was when I woke up, sweating and shaking. The clock said 4:13. The darkness outside confirmed that dawn had not yet broken. There were still voices coming from the 24-hour convenience store at the corner. Somewhere a siren grew louder, then stopped. I could hear a television through the walls. I sat up, turning and groping for a glass of water. It was empty. I sat on the side of the bed, trying to wake up enough to stand and get more water.
The dream haunted me even awake. Ted had killed his wife and his two beautiful kids. Tyler was in little league and king of third base. Spencer was a ballerina, precious even with a tooth missing. I smiled to think of them. Then shuddered to think that he killed them – only in my dream, of course, but still.
The siren picked up again. A car passed and lights danced across the dingy ceiling. I struggled to my feet and took the glass into the kitchen.
'What in the world could it mean, that dream?' I thought to myself. 'Ted loves his family.'
Who wouldn't? Alice was great! I should have done so well! When Carol and I were fighting over the house and other possessions I would sometimes look at Alice and wish I had met her instead.
Carol sold the house and everything in it, moved back to Omaha and that was that. Keeping her in the manner to which she had become accustomed was keeping me in a cheap apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. At least we had no kids to squabble over, but if I had met Alice and we had Tyler and Spencer, I think I would've been a happy man.
'So why would I dream that Ted killed them?' I leaned against the sink, turned the faucet and let the water run – it was still warm. The noise from outside the open window, a mix of sirens, dogs barking, drunks cursing and cars passing, even at four-something in the morning, seemed a fitting sound track for my life. What a mess I had made of it. And now I was having nightmares in which my best friend kills his family and then himself.
'But Ted is happy,' I thought, standing straight again. I held the glass under the spigot, filling it to the top. 'He has a good job – stressful, but still good. He's one of the top chemists at Lunadyne, one of the men who came up with Lunaprex, the leading anti-depressant on the market. He has a great life – there is no reason why he should do such a thing. So that's it.' I end the conversation in my head with the only answer, 'It's not Ted, it's me. I am reflecting my own disheveled life onto him in my dreams and in the process scaring myself silly. Am I going crazy? Is this the first sign of dementia?'
I drank the entire glass of water and held the empty glass under the still running spigot. I let the water run over onto my hand. It felt good. I wondered, was I drinking too much or too little lately. 'I only had a couple of drinks last night: whiskey and water, not large. Maybe I should go to three. Maybe I should go on the wagon. Either way, something has to change.'
The lights of passing cars played across the ceiling and wall as I walked to the couch. When the glass was empty, I put it on the table and stared into space.
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Economy is Bad, Kev.
I heard it again this week: The economy's bad! And it wasn't on Jay Leno's show. It wasn't a joke. It was a reason to sit back and mope.
Look, my income got cut in half, due to the increased price of gas. But when gas came down, the budgets of the places I play didn't go back up, so my income stayed cut in half. Several places I used to play have dropped entertainment altogether, because it's one of the first things to go when “the economy's bad.”
I've seen it before. Every recession (depression, downturn, pot-hole) if preceded by someone getting on the news and saying, “Money's tight and people are scared.” And sure enough, money gets tight and people get scared. This always happens for a reason and the reason, I'd bet my bottom half-dollar, is so someone can make more money. If a bank goes under, someone buys it for a song and makes a lot of money on it. So how do you buy a bank for a song? Make it go under. The economy is in trouble because someone wants it that way to make a bundle – not worrying about the people who will go under in the meantime.
My last novel was about this. In Deadly Research, (http://tinyurl.com/cdhcab or as a Kindle at http://tinyurl.com/cbpfjp ), Jack Richmond discovers that the news is being manipulated so that a handful of people will benefit from every turn, while millions suffer. Of course, they try to kill him, but if they didn't it wouldn't be an exciting book, would it.
The point is, I wrote a book and I'm writing another. I've learned about eBooks and how to handle files and format a novel for the new readers out there. I am promoting that to people and am getting a response. Good things are happening, because I am learning and promoting.
So turn that frown upside-down and sing along with me: Early to bed, early to rise, work like blazes and advertise.
Look, my income got cut in half, due to the increased price of gas. But when gas came down, the budgets of the places I play didn't go back up, so my income stayed cut in half. Several places I used to play have dropped entertainment altogether, because it's one of the first things to go when “the economy's bad.”
I've seen it before. Every recession (depression, downturn, pot-hole) if preceded by someone getting on the news and saying, “Money's tight and people are scared.” And sure enough, money gets tight and people get scared. This always happens for a reason and the reason, I'd bet my bottom half-dollar, is so someone can make more money. If a bank goes under, someone buys it for a song and makes a lot of money on it. So how do you buy a bank for a song? Make it go under. The economy is in trouble because someone wants it that way to make a bundle – not worrying about the people who will go under in the meantime.
My last novel was about this. In Deadly Research, (http://tinyurl.com/cdhcab or as a Kindle at http://tinyurl.com/cbpfjp ), Jack Richmond discovers that the news is being manipulated so that a handful of people will benefit from every turn, while millions suffer. Of course, they try to kill him, but if they didn't it wouldn't be an exciting book, would it.
The point is, I wrote a book and I'm writing another. I've learned about eBooks and how to handle files and format a novel for the new readers out there. I am promoting that to people and am getting a response. Good things are happening, because I am learning and promoting.
So turn that frown upside-down and sing along with me: Early to bed, early to rise, work like blazes and advertise.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The World Changes Monthly
Change? You want Change? Change we can believe in, change we can live with, a little spare change – any and all change, just for something different. There's a great line in “Paint Your Wagon” where the woman is about to be auctioned off to a new husband. One of the women says, “But you don't know what you'll get!” and she replied, “I know what I've got now!” Yes, sometimes any change is better that the existing scene.
But if you really want change, get into the new technologies. Twitter was once something my heart did when certain starlets walked down the red carpet. Now it's something I update regularly and everyone is on it. I have three MySpace sites, Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, Gather, Naymz, Reunion, Capture Carolina and Inside 919. I've canceled Tagged because it appears to be just a dating site and I married my date. It seems every month, another one jumps up. Once again, if we could just guess as to what would be the “Next Big Thing” we'd be millionaires. Well, not really. One has to have the money to back up such knowledge. Once I got a hot tip but didn't have any money to invest. The tip was regarding Viagra and the fellow who told me made millions. (Heavy sigh!)
In case you don't know, I write books. I enjoy writing books. But that's not all one does when one writes books. Once written you have to market them and that means putting them where people will see them. Having a web site isn't enough. Mine is www.jonbatson.com, incidentally. But no, it's not enough. Now you have to go digital as well.
So now as well as hard copy books, you can also download my books onto your computer as a PDF. That's Portable Document File, for those who don't know about them. That's what your Adobe reader is for. But wait, there's more! Want your book on Amazon as a download? You can, all you have to do is to translate it for Kindle to read. That alone takes an engineer's degree. But then there's MobiPocket – with it's own reader and it's own software and it's own jargon and it's own extensions. Microsoft has it's own reader and so on and so forth. Then there's E-Books, with it's free download reader onto your computer but, of course, they also sell a hand-held. There's special software to make those files.
I'm downloading all the software, learning all the file extensions, converting all the books and keeping track – somehow – of all the places my e-books are listed. Pretty soon, I'll have them on my web site, which means something else will have to come off my site, because there isn't enough room for everything. But you can buy my books in a number of different forms – including in Large Print versions on Lulu.com/jonbatson.
It seemed so simple when I decided to write a book. The daunting part, I thought, was writing the book. I had no idea how my world would change – and continues to change every month.
But if you really want change, get into the new technologies. Twitter was once something my heart did when certain starlets walked down the red carpet. Now it's something I update regularly and everyone is on it. I have three MySpace sites, Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, Gather, Naymz, Reunion, Capture Carolina and Inside 919. I've canceled Tagged because it appears to be just a dating site and I married my date. It seems every month, another one jumps up. Once again, if we could just guess as to what would be the “Next Big Thing” we'd be millionaires. Well, not really. One has to have the money to back up such knowledge. Once I got a hot tip but didn't have any money to invest. The tip was regarding Viagra and the fellow who told me made millions. (Heavy sigh!)
In case you don't know, I write books. I enjoy writing books. But that's not all one does when one writes books. Once written you have to market them and that means putting them where people will see them. Having a web site isn't enough. Mine is www.jonbatson.com, incidentally. But no, it's not enough. Now you have to go digital as well.
So now as well as hard copy books, you can also download my books onto your computer as a PDF. That's Portable Document File, for those who don't know about them. That's what your Adobe reader is for. But wait, there's more! Want your book on Amazon as a download? You can, all you have to do is to translate it for Kindle to read. That alone takes an engineer's degree. But then there's MobiPocket – with it's own reader and it's own software and it's own jargon and it's own extensions. Microsoft has it's own reader and so on and so forth. Then there's E-Books, with it's free download reader onto your computer but, of course, they also sell a hand-held. There's special software to make those files.
I'm downloading all the software, learning all the file extensions, converting all the books and keeping track – somehow – of all the places my e-books are listed. Pretty soon, I'll have them on my web site, which means something else will have to come off my site, because there isn't enough room for everything. But you can buy my books in a number of different forms – including in Large Print versions on Lulu.com/jonbatson.
It seemed so simple when I decided to write a book. The daunting part, I thought, was writing the book. I had no idea how my world would change – and continues to change every month.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
That part of life called Death
Or, Hanging by a Chad in Flrida
As of Jan 7th, the plan was to take the 25th thru the 31st and drive to Florida. We would spend some time with my wife's uncle Richard and his wife, Kathy; then some time with my wife's aging and ailing mother and father.
By the 13th, Eileen's mother, Pearl, was hospitalized and Eileen had to drop everything and rush to her side. By the 19th, Pearl had passed away. Eileen asked me to come right down. That night, as I was packing, it snowed in Raleigh. More than 500 accidents clogged the icy roadways the following day, making my leaving highly dangerous. The following day was just as bad, as the roads were now covered with 'black ice,' making they twice as treacherous.
At noon on Wednesday the 21st, the sun had opened a small window of opportunity. I took it and lit out for the south land. Accidents and returning inauguration traffic made it slow going and it was just after 11:00 when I crossed the Florida line, still many hours from Pembroke Pines near Ft. Lauderdale. The Motel 6 was basic and no frills but got me out in the morning. I started out at 6:00 AM.
More than six hours later, I rolled into the cemetery with 20 minutes to spare before the funeral. Eileen was at her wits end having to handle the many details and her father. She was glad to see me.
I tried to remember who was who and was genuinely glad to see most of Eileen's family, though the day was a sad one. When you lose someone so close as a mother, it's hard to put into words how you feel, even when you know it's coming.
Death is part of life. It's the deal: this is Earth, no one's gettin' out alive. So you know that at the end of life, whenever that is, you meet death and that is the end of life as we know it. If it comes early, we are naturally shocked and feel cheated. If it comes after 80 years of living, it's not so much of a surprise.
It's the feeling of loss more than anything else. Certainly those who are left behind feel a loss. Pearl won't be around to make Green Beans with Almonds. Her husband, Len, depended on her. We called to ask how she was getting along. She thanked me for making my latest book in big print for her. She'll be missed.
At the end she was afraid. Talks with Eileen helped, but she was still afraid. It is Pearl's loss that is at issue here. Pearl lost her husband Len when she died. She also lost her daughter, her home, her friends and her body. she lost the sun in the morning and the moon at night, the rain and the breeze, the taste of lunch and the prospect of visiting her brother in Jupiter where he has a house on the beach.
We go berserk when we lose our keys. If we lose our laptop or Blackberry, we go ballistic. If I can't find my guitar pick I am inconsolable, and I have 40 or 50 - why should one send me into a dither? Because we hate the feeling of loss.
So here comes Death, and Death takes it all. You lose your very ability to communicate to those around you, because your body is gone. Your vocal chords, mouth, hands and eyes are no longer available. Your family and friends do not respond. It could well be this anticipation of total loss that creates a feeling of apprehension in those close to death.
There is confusion, too. Do I look for a light? Is there an angel waiting for me? Is Jenifer Love Hewitt there to help me? You may believe in Heaven or Valhalla, but do you have a coin for the boatman?
Eileen and I are rethinking our arrangements for that time to come. We are planning "Do-not-recessitate" orders and instructions for cremation, where to scatter the ashes and what to sing at the wake. I must remember to include a coin for the boatman.
As of Jan 7th, the plan was to take the 25th thru the 31st and drive to Florida. We would spend some time with my wife's uncle Richard and his wife, Kathy; then some time with my wife's aging and ailing mother and father.
By the 13th, Eileen's mother, Pearl, was hospitalized and Eileen had to drop everything and rush to her side. By the 19th, Pearl had passed away. Eileen asked me to come right down. That night, as I was packing, it snowed in Raleigh. More than 500 accidents clogged the icy roadways the following day, making my leaving highly dangerous. The following day was just as bad, as the roads were now covered with 'black ice,' making they twice as treacherous.
At noon on Wednesday the 21st, the sun had opened a small window of opportunity. I took it and lit out for the south land. Accidents and returning inauguration traffic made it slow going and it was just after 11:00 when I crossed the Florida line, still many hours from Pembroke Pines near Ft. Lauderdale. The Motel 6 was basic and no frills but got me out in the morning. I started out at 6:00 AM.
More than six hours later, I rolled into the cemetery with 20 minutes to spare before the funeral. Eileen was at her wits end having to handle the many details and her father. She was glad to see me.
I tried to remember who was who and was genuinely glad to see most of Eileen's family, though the day was a sad one. When you lose someone so close as a mother, it's hard to put into words how you feel, even when you know it's coming.
Death is part of life. It's the deal: this is Earth, no one's gettin' out alive. So you know that at the end of life, whenever that is, you meet death and that is the end of life as we know it. If it comes early, we are naturally shocked and feel cheated. If it comes after 80 years of living, it's not so much of a surprise.
It's the feeling of loss more than anything else. Certainly those who are left behind feel a loss. Pearl won't be around to make Green Beans with Almonds. Her husband, Len, depended on her. We called to ask how she was getting along. She thanked me for making my latest book in big print for her. She'll be missed.
At the end she was afraid. Talks with Eileen helped, but she was still afraid. It is Pearl's loss that is at issue here. Pearl lost her husband Len when she died. She also lost her daughter, her home, her friends and her body. she lost the sun in the morning and the moon at night, the rain and the breeze, the taste of lunch and the prospect of visiting her brother in Jupiter where he has a house on the beach.
We go berserk when we lose our keys. If we lose our laptop or Blackberry, we go ballistic. If I can't find my guitar pick I am inconsolable, and I have 40 or 50 - why should one send me into a dither? Because we hate the feeling of loss.
So here comes Death, and Death takes it all. You lose your very ability to communicate to those around you, because your body is gone. Your vocal chords, mouth, hands and eyes are no longer available. Your family and friends do not respond. It could well be this anticipation of total loss that creates a feeling of apprehension in those close to death.
There is confusion, too. Do I look for a light? Is there an angel waiting for me? Is Jenifer Love Hewitt there to help me? You may believe in Heaven or Valhalla, but do you have a coin for the boatman?
Eileen and I are rethinking our arrangements for that time to come. We are planning "Do-not-recessitate" orders and instructions for cremation, where to scatter the ashes and what to sing at the wake. I must remember to include a coin for the boatman.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
2008 Wrap-up
2008 was one heck of a year at the ol' Casa Batson for singer-songwriter-author-publisher Jon Batson and his “Marketing Maven” wife, Eileen.
Where to begin?? Well, it’s been 4 years since The Batson’s moved to North Carolina from Los Angeles.
Musical Notes
Jon has been and still is performing around the Triangle, Piedmont and coastal Wilmington at a variety of venues including the Festival for the Eno and the Carrboro Music Festival. His covers and original songs are all well received. In addition to performing, he also booked the weekly Summer Showcase at the Gulf Rim Café in Hillsborough, NC. Visit www.JonBatson.com
It seemed the election process would never end and Jon wrote a song in hopes that someone would understand what sort of change the country needs – “The Country Needs a Little Spare Change.” See it on YouTube.com. When the bailout took over the news, Jon couldn't stand the insanity of it all and put up another video – “I’m Movin’ to Wall Street.”
Jon’s monthly songwriting workshop, “The Song Doctor” for the North Carolina Songwriter's Co-op has been pretty popular. Several of the attendees have purchased “The Songwriter's Hook Book,” Jon's journal for songwriters. Both Jon and Eileen were very active in the Co-op’s Annual Songwriting Contest again this year year.
The Book Nook
Jon's Sci-Fi adventure, The Trasaron Chronicles, was completed in early 2008. His longest book thus far (471 pages) has been described by fans of the genre “ …as fast paced as any action thriller! I could scarcely wait to turn the page. Each time I was forced to put it down was pure agony.” This character driven sci-fi novel explores how a band of people survive on an alien world while making plans to recapture earth.
His first novella The Rands Conspiracy continues to be a favorite and is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and at select bookstores. Rands takes the reader on a Bourne-style chase as Josh and his development team run for their lives after creating an “experimental” spyware program for the powerful governmentfunded Rands Group.
Meanwhile, he took Honorable Mention for two stories, “Selfers” and “Smoking Bedpan” in the international Writers of the Future contest. Not bad, considering it receives thousands of submissions annually.
Jon jumped right in and began another novel and finished it in October. Nina Knows the Night, follows the adventures of Nina Richardson, a mild-mannered law school dropout who becomes a kick-butt heroine after innocently acquiring a metal case filled with military-like weapons. Determined to knock out the growing crime in her formerly posh urban, now run-down neighborhood, she discovers her superpowers to be her own inner-strength and purpose. Jon is seeking agent representation for this book, but isn't resting on his laurels.
November was National Novel Writing Month and novelists from around the world undertake to start and complete a novel (more than 50,000 words) in 30 days. Jon was finished by the 18th and took a couple of weeks to edit the finished work. It's called Deadly Research. Unpublished novelist, Jack Richmond, is given an assignment by a publisher: write a book that is relevant to our time. He begins his research for the book, not knowing his task is really an exercise in data gathering. Jack comes to realize the different leads he is following for the research all have a common thread. As the story begins to weave itself together, Jack and his girlfriend Teri find themselves the target of numerous attempts on their lives.
2008 also saw great changes in Jon's publishing company, Midnight Whistler. Once just a sleepy little music publisher handling Jon's CDs and a few songs that have appeared on TV (checks still come in from the song that appeared on Murder She Wrote). Now Midnight Whistler Publishers has expanded to include a nonfiction book, Walking Targets: How Our Psychologized Classrooms are Producing a Nation of Sitting Ducks,
Here's a blurb:
“In her latest book Walking Targets, education's whistleblower and best-selling author, B. K. Eakman points to an agenda that begins with increasing control by government of the childrearing process, luring parents of babies and toddlers back into the workforce with promises of paid day-care.” Visit www.MidnightWhister.com
Gleans from Eileen
No stick-in-the-mud couch potato, Eileen’s had a busy year. For the third year in a row she was on the Board of Directors of the North Carolina Songwriters Cooperative (NCSC), Organizer for the NCSC Meetup site and Assistant Organizer of Coffee and Contacts: Power Networking for Women. She has delivered a number of talks in the Triangle area on a variety of subjects: Networking with Social Media, Marketing and PR, The Basics of Effective Communication and more. Her speaking schedule is filling up for 2009. Her business, Batson Group Marketing and PR, has expanded to include clients on both coasts.
They cover a broad spectrum of industries – technology, health care, consumer retail goods and services, non-profits, publishing and literary, music, fitness, and more. She provides newsletters, business cards press releases, book cover designs, social media advice, gift and incentive albums from Amway Global, etc. to help clients to be well known and remembered. In November she helped Suzanne Caplan pull together Celebrating Women 50+ event in Raleigh for the online site WomenEtcetera! Visit her blog at: BatsonGroupMarketingandPR.blogspot.com
Family Doin’s
Thanksgiving was a grand affair at cousin Vicki’s in Wallace, NC. Jon’s dad Clifton came in from DC and we all had a great time. Eatin’, talkin’, visitin’ with the family, horses and dog. Jon's sister, Glenna, got a grant and will be teaching in England. She spent most of 2008 globe trotting after moving her headquarters to Pittsboro with husband Patrick.
Jon’s dad, Cliff Batson is doing great at 84. He is considering selling the house he bought in DC near embassy row in the early 50's and moving down here to be with Jon and Glenna. Stay tuned for next year's changes.
Len and Pearl Drillick are doing well after a couple of close calls. Eileen went down to lend moral support and work a miracle or two. Len is 86 and Pearl's 39 – again. It runs in the family. They have no plans to move; they're happy in Florida. Eileen’s Uncle Richard and Aunt Kathi are enjoying their beautiful 3-story beach-front home in Jupiter and welcomed family for the holidays. They plan to sell the place and start their world travels. So, if you know anyone with a spare few million let ‘em know.
On Human Rights Day, December 10th, Jon had a birthday, asking Eileen, “Will ya still need me, will ya still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?” She said she would despite the hokey Beatles lyric reference. Eileen also had a birthday on the 28th, claiming to be 39 – again.
Jeremy Batson, wife Cathy and the five grandstars: Jacob, Jordan, Mira, Emma and Eli, are all doing well and had a great Christmas this year. They said that we had gone “way over the top” on gifts, but then again, that's the job description for grandparent, isn't it?
We had to say goodbye to Cousin Azalee Sain, who passed on this year. Azalee’s contributions and tireless energy supporting many charities here in Raleigh made her a force to be reckoned with. The write-up in the News & Observer truly captured her heart and was a wonderful tribute to her.
Sadly, Boots the cat also decided it was time to move on. His fans abound from the Freewinds Cruise ship to California to North Carolina. He was an entertaining social icon wherever he lived.
What’s Ahead
Both Jon and Eileen are looking forward to a fantastic 2009, so it's lucky there is one coming up. Keep an eye peeled for Jon's next novels, he has four outlined and plans to finish them all this coming year.
Music-wise, we are adding House Concerts to the schedule and Jon will be performing. See our meetup site at www.meetup.com/The-Raleigh-House-Music-Meetup-Group/
Eileen is resolved to spend more time promoting them, her clients, as well as her own business. Both have decided to visit family, exercise, lose weight, enjoy all that NC has to offer; to flourish and prosper spiritually and materially in 2009.
To paraphrase Grant Cardone, the recession describes an economic condition, not individuals!
Wishing everyone a prosperous year.
Jon and Eileen Batson
“Tomorrow's a play we're writing today. We can say what is to be
For a happier play, my own matinee, I'll Awaken the Dreamer in me”
~ lyric from “Awaken the Dreamer” by Jon Batson
Where to begin?? Well, it’s been 4 years since The Batson’s moved to North Carolina from Los Angeles.
Musical Notes
Jon has been and still is performing around the Triangle, Piedmont and coastal Wilmington at a variety of venues including the Festival for the Eno and the Carrboro Music Festival. His covers and original songs are all well received. In addition to performing, he also booked the weekly Summer Showcase at the Gulf Rim Café in Hillsborough, NC. Visit www.JonBatson.com
It seemed the election process would never end and Jon wrote a song in hopes that someone would understand what sort of change the country needs – “The Country Needs a Little Spare Change.” See it on YouTube.com. When the bailout took over the news, Jon couldn't stand the insanity of it all and put up another video – “I’m Movin’ to Wall Street.”
Jon’s monthly songwriting workshop, “The Song Doctor” for the North Carolina Songwriter's Co-op has been pretty popular. Several of the attendees have purchased “The Songwriter's Hook Book,” Jon's journal for songwriters. Both Jon and Eileen were very active in the Co-op’s Annual Songwriting Contest again this year year.
The Book Nook
Jon's Sci-Fi adventure, The Trasaron Chronicles, was completed in early 2008. His longest book thus far (471 pages) has been described by fans of the genre “ …as fast paced as any action thriller! I could scarcely wait to turn the page. Each time I was forced to put it down was pure agony.” This character driven sci-fi novel explores how a band of people survive on an alien world while making plans to recapture earth.
His first novella The Rands Conspiracy continues to be a favorite and is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and at select bookstores. Rands takes the reader on a Bourne-style chase as Josh and his development team run for their lives after creating an “experimental” spyware program for the powerful governmentfunded Rands Group.
Meanwhile, he took Honorable Mention for two stories, “Selfers” and “Smoking Bedpan” in the international Writers of the Future contest. Not bad, considering it receives thousands of submissions annually.
Jon jumped right in and began another novel and finished it in October. Nina Knows the Night, follows the adventures of Nina Richardson, a mild-mannered law school dropout who becomes a kick-butt heroine after innocently acquiring a metal case filled with military-like weapons. Determined to knock out the growing crime in her formerly posh urban, now run-down neighborhood, she discovers her superpowers to be her own inner-strength and purpose. Jon is seeking agent representation for this book, but isn't resting on his laurels.
November was National Novel Writing Month and novelists from around the world undertake to start and complete a novel (more than 50,000 words) in 30 days. Jon was finished by the 18th and took a couple of weeks to edit the finished work. It's called Deadly Research. Unpublished novelist, Jack Richmond, is given an assignment by a publisher: write a book that is relevant to our time. He begins his research for the book, not knowing his task is really an exercise in data gathering. Jack comes to realize the different leads he is following for the research all have a common thread. As the story begins to weave itself together, Jack and his girlfriend Teri find themselves the target of numerous attempts on their lives.
2008 also saw great changes in Jon's publishing company, Midnight Whistler. Once just a sleepy little music publisher handling Jon's CDs and a few songs that have appeared on TV (checks still come in from the song that appeared on Murder She Wrote). Now Midnight Whistler Publishers has expanded to include a nonfiction book, Walking Targets: How Our Psychologized Classrooms are Producing a Nation of Sitting Ducks,
Here's a blurb:
“In her latest book Walking Targets, education's whistleblower and best-selling author, B. K. Eakman points to an agenda that begins with increasing control by government of the childrearing process, luring parents of babies and toddlers back into the workforce with promises of paid day-care.” Visit www.MidnightWhister.com
Gleans from Eileen
No stick-in-the-mud couch potato, Eileen’s had a busy year. For the third year in a row she was on the Board of Directors of the North Carolina Songwriters Cooperative (NCSC), Organizer for the NCSC Meetup site and Assistant Organizer of Coffee and Contacts: Power Networking for Women. She has delivered a number of talks in the Triangle area on a variety of subjects: Networking with Social Media, Marketing and PR, The Basics of Effective Communication and more. Her speaking schedule is filling up for 2009. Her business, Batson Group Marketing and PR, has expanded to include clients on both coasts.
They cover a broad spectrum of industries – technology, health care, consumer retail goods and services, non-profits, publishing and literary, music, fitness, and more. She provides newsletters, business cards press releases, book cover designs, social media advice, gift and incentive albums from Amway Global, etc. to help clients to be well known and remembered. In November she helped Suzanne Caplan pull together Celebrating Women 50+ event in Raleigh for the online site WomenEtcetera! Visit her blog at: BatsonGroupMarketingandPR.blogspot.com
Family Doin’s
Thanksgiving was a grand affair at cousin Vicki’s in Wallace, NC. Jon’s dad Clifton came in from DC and we all had a great time. Eatin’, talkin’, visitin’ with the family, horses and dog. Jon's sister, Glenna, got a grant and will be teaching in England. She spent most of 2008 globe trotting after moving her headquarters to Pittsboro with husband Patrick.
Jon’s dad, Cliff Batson is doing great at 84. He is considering selling the house he bought in DC near embassy row in the early 50's and moving down here to be with Jon and Glenna. Stay tuned for next year's changes.
Len and Pearl Drillick are doing well after a couple of close calls. Eileen went down to lend moral support and work a miracle or two. Len is 86 and Pearl's 39 – again. It runs in the family. They have no plans to move; they're happy in Florida. Eileen’s Uncle Richard and Aunt Kathi are enjoying their beautiful 3-story beach-front home in Jupiter and welcomed family for the holidays. They plan to sell the place and start their world travels. So, if you know anyone with a spare few million let ‘em know.
On Human Rights Day, December 10th, Jon had a birthday, asking Eileen, “Will ya still need me, will ya still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?” She said she would despite the hokey Beatles lyric reference. Eileen also had a birthday on the 28th, claiming to be 39 – again.
Jeremy Batson, wife Cathy and the five grandstars: Jacob, Jordan, Mira, Emma and Eli, are all doing well and had a great Christmas this year. They said that we had gone “way over the top” on gifts, but then again, that's the job description for grandparent, isn't it?
We had to say goodbye to Cousin Azalee Sain, who passed on this year. Azalee’s contributions and tireless energy supporting many charities here in Raleigh made her a force to be reckoned with. The write-up in the News & Observer truly captured her heart and was a wonderful tribute to her.
Sadly, Boots the cat also decided it was time to move on. His fans abound from the Freewinds Cruise ship to California to North Carolina. He was an entertaining social icon wherever he lived.
What’s Ahead
Both Jon and Eileen are looking forward to a fantastic 2009, so it's lucky there is one coming up. Keep an eye peeled for Jon's next novels, he has four outlined and plans to finish them all this coming year.
Music-wise, we are adding House Concerts to the schedule and Jon will be performing. See our meetup site at www.meetup.com/The-Raleigh-House-Music-Meetup-Group/
Eileen is resolved to spend more time promoting them, her clients, as well as her own business. Both have decided to visit family, exercise, lose weight, enjoy all that NC has to offer; to flourish and prosper spiritually and materially in 2009.
To paraphrase Grant Cardone, the recession describes an economic condition, not individuals!
Wishing everyone a prosperous year.
Jon and Eileen Batson
“Tomorrow's a play we're writing today. We can say what is to be
For a happier play, my own matinee, I'll Awaken the Dreamer in me”
~ lyric from “Awaken the Dreamer” by Jon Batson
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