We lost a man of steel this week. I attended his funeral yesterday. Don was born in 1930--you can do the math. He was a metal welding wizard. He worked in metal with the ease that the more skilled members of my family work with wood and concrete, or sarcasm. I always thought that he looked like Will Rogers; he also had friendly philosophical thoughts from time to time. He and his wife were friends of my parents and they played cards together when they lived close. I worked with Don one summer back in 1978 or 79. He managed a farm and I did the unskilled labor: moving sprinkler pipe, fixing fence, clearing the broken straw, hauling and stacking hay and a thousand other tasks. I got $4.00/hour which was rather good wages for an under-size high school kid at the time. He never looked over my shoulder but would sometimes let me know how I could improve on a task when he examined it later. 

I remember one time when we were stacking a load of hay. We had to use the hay elevator of the mechanized chain variety. Many people would climb the 20 foot elevator like a ladder to reach the top of the stack prior to activating the elevator. My technique (learned from my father, the undisputed He-Man of the hay bale universe) was to ride the elevator to the top of the stack by placing a foot on one of the paired prongs on the chain which were made to stick into the bales to haul them to the top.

In that instance, I stepped into place while the chain was in neutral and not moving. Don then kicked it into gear. The chain started with a jerk (not me, but the yank or tug type) which knocked me off balance. I slipped and finally fell backward with my Achilles tendon between the two prongs and my heel caught on the uphill side. The elevator was dragging me feet-first to my doom--or at least to potential injury (at the time I was convinced that it was to my certain doom. It was like I was in the desperate clutches of Gollum and we were about to fall over the brink into the molten lava of Mount Doom). After the machine had dragged me for a few uncomfortable feet, he shifted it out of gear so that I could extricate myself. We both laughed about it but his laughter was more genuine than mine. I can't say that I'm a better person for having worked that summer with Don, and I'm sure he was no better off for my association, but I enjoyed our work and our friendship.

***

The Gallows from Warbases Company arrived yesterday. I had to put it together immediately. There were no directions. The large pieces went together easily. The lever assembly was tricky but I eventually deciphered it after staring at the online store picture until my eyes turned into pixels. The trap door mechanism required some thought. I looked for instructions online but didn't find any. I couldn't find any pictures other than the view from the top. 

I figured it out and I include a view from beneath the scaffold for anyone who would find that helpful.

As for the ever pressing need to write, I did it. It was a struggle to get to 65K words for several reasons. First, I remembered with some consternation that the rescue scene that I had written last week included the rescue of most of the distressed characters. I had left one of them dangling on the gibbet (which sounds like a way to serve shrimp or something: The special today includes sauteed prawns dangling on the gibbet. I highly recommend them). So I had to rewrite that scene. Time escaped me. By Saturday, I had two days worth of writing to catch up on. Also, I was distracted by the funeral, the gallows assembly, and hanging new blinds for my wife--the blinds were actually for the windows but my wife had selected them. Nevertheless, being the mighty splitter of infinitives and fearless dangler of participles that I am, I worked through the distractions and completed my goal for the week.

I'm rethinking the way I intended to divide this adventure series. I may opt for more, shorter books than for a trilogy of long books. Four to six books that I could sell at a less expensive rate might be more worthwhile, profitable, and fulfilling--the thrill of completing 4-6 books should be greater than that for completing only 3. I may end these in the 80K word range rather than the 120K range.

Next time: I may do reviews of 1632 by Eric Flint and Cthulhu Armageddon by C.T. Phipps. One of these was a DNF for me but I should set forth my reasons.

Before I get to Solo: A Star Wars Story
Let me speak of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
I took an arrow. I received the hit a week or so ago but only recently noticed the wound. The arrow flew in silently; launched from goodreads, the bolt pierced me in the left center of the ego. I'm still trying to stop the bleeding. There are some reviews of Justice Resurgent on goodreads: three 5 star reviews, a 3 star, and the lone star missile of discontent. Neither the 3 star nor the 1 star review were written. I can understand a three star review -- it just wasn't someone's cup of tea, or they enjoyed it, but not much. However, a single star review really calls for some supporting basis. I really have to detest a book to give it a single star; in fact, I've never given a single star review on goodreads.

I had hoped to discover that the reviewer was a Negative Nelly, trashing everything. Nope. Of the many reviews that the reviewer had posted (stars only, no written reviews), most were of the 4 and 5 star nature. I could only find three others that were given the red badge of discouragement. One of those is a Half Breed Haven Wonder Women of the Old West Action Adventure -- it's tagline is: BULLETS, BRAWLING, BIRACIAL BEAUTIES AND BAD HOMBRES MIX IT UP IN THIS ADULT WESTERN ACTION ADVENTURE! I can honestly say that I would never read that book and I'm mortified to have my work given the same rating. Another of the reviewer's single star bullets went to a book called The Loner; reading the book description makes me cringe. I wouldn't read that one either. He was also disenchanted with The Unwanted: The Adventures of Lucas Morgan. The description to that one abolished any mystery--they make it to Oregon. 

While I'm suffering a thousand natural shocks at the company into which the reviewer has cast my recent publication, rather than take up arms against a sea of troubles, I will bear the fardel along with the whips and scorns of the oppressor's wrong and thank the reviewer for reading my book (I hope he did actually read it) and sharing the unsupported nub of his opinion. I have enterprises of great pith and moment to pursue and can spare no time for rebuttals--but some profusely positive reviews would do wonders to salve my wound.

I do note that the reviewer had not read the first book in the 2 book series, Justice in Season. I don't suppose he's likely to want to read it now.

***

Speaking of enterprises of great pith and moment (and that's not meant to be a Star Trek reference), I've hit the 60K word mark on the novel in progress. I still haven't decided upon a title that I like for it. Please feel free to send suggestions for the title of a best selling flintlock fantasy novel to be published this year. I could tell you something about it but that would inhibit your imaginative title suggestions.

I've found that writing dialogue is how I discover my characters. The characters ask questions that I had not previously considered. Answering those questions helps develop depth and motivation. Action scenes are fun to write, but conversation is the fertile soil in which the seed of character is best sown.

***

Aside from the writing, which went extremely well, the week included a game with these figures from Bronze Age Miniatures and the musketeer figures that I've posted earlier. It was Barsoom meets the musketeers. Once again using the ...And All for One rules mentioned before for a simple game that several boys could quickly learn for a fun evening.

They never got tired of trying to kill each other and take off with the loot.

I alluded to a review of Solo: A Star Wars Story. I'll be brief--or not; I'm just rambling here.

 Color me simply disappointed. I thought it not a bad show, better than Last Jedi. When I see a Star Wars film I'm thinking about rewatchability. I'm always asking myself if I'll want to watch this film again. Of the new films, only The Force Awakens has a measurable rewatchability factor for me. As for Solo, I thought Firefly did the train robbery better. Apart from the characters there were elements that recalled scenes from the original New Hope, Empire, and Jedi trilogy that I appreciated. I was glad that Ron Howard paid homage to the three great movies onto which the rest of the mediocre films of the franchise have been scabbed.

For both people who have not seen this film yet: Beware, spoilers follow.

As for the acting, I found the new actors playing the roles of the old heroes entirely believable; I liked them. The special effects obviously soaked up a lot of the budget. The music only reached memorable heights when it went back to the original theme. The story seemed sloppy and unlikely. If I remember correctly, bad guy Dryden never had a pistol. I think the bad guy should have more than a glorified knife for self defense. I was pleased to see Clint Howard with a cameo. Lando's lover-like remorse at the loss of L-3 struck me as a rather ridiculous, but I hate cat videos and space octupi as well so maybe I'm wrong--but I'm not. The security on Kessel, a planet with mines producing extremely valuable fuel mined by slave labor, reached a nadir even lower than that on Endor for the protection of the death star in Jedi. At least there were no Ewoks. Finally, who was surprised when the big bad Cloud Rider took off the helmet to reveal a woman? No one.

Let's begin with the book review and see where it goes from there.

Death's Angels by William King.

I got this book for free and it is still available at that price. I picked it up because my new novel in progress is in the flintlock fantasy genre and also has dragons. I wanted to see what this book did with similar components. This book and my book are nothing alike.

What I liked: King is a very good writer. I never felt that I was reading something that could (as I've noted about many fantasy books) have been written by a fairly talented 5th grader. He can put a story together and his sentence structure and word choice never annoyed me -- except for the occasional use of profanity; that annoyed me (I nearly put it away without finishing). I continue to believe that the best writers don't need to use profanity. I won't say it's a substitute for talent in King's case because he's very talented and that type of language is infrequent. But I digress; this is supposed to be the part where I discuss what I did like. Most of the characters were interesting if somewhat stereotypical. The main character, Rik, is the orphaned thief; there's a big barbarian who suffers from a lack of mental agility, and also a weasel-type named Weasel. I liked those guys even if they weren't terribly unique. I wanted to know more about the Terrarch overlords, the conquerors from space and wielders of magic. King did some interesting things with the variety of dragons; I wanted to know more about them. The story progressed at a rapid pace. Danger hovered in the wings or came straight on with scything claws; it's some exciting reading.

What I didn't like: I just didn't care for the story. The story was well told. I never grew bored with it. The author kept me interested even after it became clear that the baddies were some kind of demons. I'm just not into demons; it's a flavor of fantasy for which I have never acquired a taste. I enjoy a good battle against Sauron or some dark lord and his minions, but grotesque and bug-like hell spawn held at bay or set free by the interpretive dance and chanted lyrics of pasty-faced sorcerers and their slimy apprentices leave me sick and empty in the same manner as did that expired can of creamed corn left in the hot summer sun that I convinced grandma to cook for me when I was a kid--I haven't been able to eat creamed corn since. The lack of flintlock detail and combat description disappointed me. This book really could have been a sword and sorcery piece without significant modification. I was hankering for a helping of musketry fire and bayonet charges and found those particular morsels of the repast too small to appease my desire.

The Verdict: There are 91 reviews on and 90% of those are 4 and 5 stars. A lot of people liked it. I can't say that I really agree with the 3, 2, or 1 star reviews. It didn't appeal to me but that was a matter of taste rather than quality. Your mileage may vary. As for me, I won't be reading further in the series.

***

With regard to my own books, the sales continue. Most of the recent sales have been of Justice Resurgent, but Justice in Season, the first book in the two book series has also sold more copies.

The novel in progress has broken the 55K word mark. I have departed from the story as broadly outlined but characters and events often refuse to be bound by my original concept for them. Once the writing begins they insist on slipping the 12 point Times New Roman bonds which had loosely anchored them to their predefined role in the tale. That's the exciting part. They always take me places beyond what I had originally imagined. I can't wait to find out what happens next. Seriously, I know what happens; I just don't always know how it's going to happen. OK. Sometimes I don't even know what's going to happen; I'm as surprised as anyone.

Finally, I started a French movie, Le Doulos, a week or so ago and got time to finish it yesterday.

The story goes like this:
Confusion. Girl gets beat up. Guy gets shot. Botched burglary. Things get explained. Everyone dies.
That's not a proper review. I'm not a proper reviewer. It might make a nice reframe where I use pictures from the film but build my own unlikely tale around them but I probably won't get to it.

Before the cavalcade of other items which may or may not be included in today's post, let me address  ERB's The Moon Men. 

On second thought, this will be first (except for what I said above which actually came first but referred to something which will not in fact be first, except for the mentioning thereof, which was in fact first). I must say that the novel writing went exceedingly well this week. I passed the 50K word mark. More importantly, two epiphanistic* breakthroughs combined to remind me why I love writing (and the 150 copies of the books that sold this week didn't hurt either). As you may remember from last week (or not), the antagonist was locked in combat with one of the good guys. I had left the combat unresolved on a cliff hanger and moved on to the next chapter. Some things had to happen in that combat to make it serve a higher purpose. I hadn't put those things together in my mind until on my way to the shower I fell, striking my head on the toilet and had a vision of the flux capacitor had a striking idea--but not of the Psycho shower striking sort. The resolution perfectly achieved the purposes that I had for the combat and also helped me with some issues that I had puzzled about for an important moment near the conclusion of the book. Also, another string that I had not foreseen suddenly unraveled before me--and by "suddenly" I mean over the course of a few days after I had written the conclusion to the combat and had written a few other scenes; it's a very subjective suddenly. It was awesome! Truly, I was feckful in my writing this week.

*Epiphanistic may not be a word but I like the sound of it and my poetic license is still valid in all 50 states, most of Europe, Australia, New Zealand, parts of Asia, and many Pacific island nations.

Back to the promised review:

As for the matter of the cover: It bears the title of The Moon Men but the cover actually contains the second two books of the trilogy made up of The Moon Maid, The Moon Men and The Red Hawk. The scene depicted is from the third book. My review is only of the second book but I can say that the antagonist pictured is much larger than described in the book, and I don't believe the girl in the story wore such an outfit.

How did I come to review this book? You may wonder--probably not but I'll explain it anyway. It was New Year's Eve. I was exhausted and went to bed late, as is the custom. After falling asleep twice and being roused from that sleep as many times, I could not recapture the muse of restful dreams. I contemplated my volumes of forgotten lore and stumbled upon this one behind my bookshelf door. So this was the first book that I began for the new year (although I had a few others already in progress from 2018). For some reason this slender tome beckoned to my sleep deprived mind. I had read it a couple times before and thought to read it again perhaps never more. So it began; it became my breakfast reader. I finished a couple days ago.

The book has many classic ERB elements but it is set in a dystopian future--it's Burroughs' version of 1984 meets Braveheart. It appeared as a serial in 1925. The earth has been conquered by the Kalkars of the moon led by Orthis. The Americans live as a conquered people taxed more than they can bear, virtual slaves to the uncouth tyrants. The Kalkars represent the communists--the nation is divided into districts each of which is called (and presided over by) a Teivos (Soviet spelled backwards). The hero, Julian 9th, with the American flag held aloft finally leads a rebellion against the Kalkars. The hero could be John Carter or Tarzan but without the charm. The story isn't so much about the hero as it is about the state of the conquered and the conditions under which they live. As per the usual ERB formula, Julian rescues the woman that all other men, especially the Kalkars and the degenerate humans who seek their favor, covet. Naturally, they fall in love and then the ending does not climax with the destruction of their enemies and living happily ever after. Fortunately, ERB has another book in the series to correct this disappointing ending.

The setting and the warning are the real story in this book. A quote from Burroughs' voice of warning:

That is their politics; that is their religion. Hate. but the world is all hate--hate and misery.

...[T]he people didn't know when they were well off. They came from all other parts of the world to share our happiness and when they had won it they sought to overthrow it, and when the Kalkars came they helped them.

On the movie front--because the war must be waged on all fronts--I watched Wyvern. I know what you're thinking: Wyvern and surely you weren't in Milwaukee, were you? (Read those first three words of that sentence out loud, varying your pronunciation until you get the joke).

All I have to say about this movie is that I didn't hate it. I did have low expectations but I entertained high hopes. My expectations were exceeded though my hopes were left unfulfilled. I guess that isn't all that I have to say. I'll say more. The movie had some interesting characters. I would have liked to have got to know more about some of them before they checked into the flying gastro-intestinal hotel. The ending kind of killed the show for me. The hero planned the last encounter that would destroy the wyvern but the plan, it seemed to me, utterly failed to account for the fact that the beast was of the variety volant. The plan would never have worked but for an unforeseeable problem that the creature developed so that it couldn't fly away when the the metaphorical hammer came down.

Other observations:

Uhtred is D'Artagnan. I finished my vidangel view of the 3rd season of Last Kingdom.

And I forgot the other pithy comment--but it was good, really good.