StanleyWheeler

“...Deal mercifully with any whose wounds are too serious to treat. Put tomahawks in their hands before you send them to Valhalla. We’ll escort the wounded to town before we continue the chase. First we’ll construct a pyre.” --The last words we hear from the Supreme Commander in chapter one of the sequel to Threading The Rude Eye (Tentatively entitled, Power to Hurt ) All of which means that not only is the first book available, the sequel is underway with the first chapter nearly complete--and serious carnage happens. (Serious Carnage -- should be a cartoon character name). I spent about 5 hours Friday night and Saturday morning working on the paperback version -- I got an email last night or this morning telling me that the paperback is now also live for purchase. I'll order my copy tomorrow and post a picture when I get it. I went to significantly more effort getting this one into paperback than I did with Smoke . It looked fabulous on the screen. I hope the finished pro...

Pain. With each step a horned demon hammered jagged spikes deeper into my thighs. All the while a lesser imp blew new fury into the coals beneath the burgeoning blister behind my toe. Later I found new agony. I'm no medical doctor but I'm pretty sure that there are places upon the human body that are not supposed to surge with electric pain at every step. I have located what I believe should be one of those places--but it does. I believe the root cause of the affliction can be attributed to the men and boys who forced me to attend the ten mile hike. A mountainous route would have resulted in the acquisition of demons far less dedicated to their work than those who joined me along the graveled road upon which we trod. It's only the demon of the surging voltage of torment that troubles me. That fiend didn't make its presence felt yesterday until well after the 21K plus steps had been completed. I'm hoping to lose it in some labyrinthine dream tonight. I tried exor...

Cover for the new novel. Any thoughts?

“Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden! Fell deeds awake, fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!" Saturday was a red day. Stalwart shield maidens arose in their flamboyant gladiatorial war skirts and vibrantly colored tops, armed with flashing pom-poms and crowned with ornate oversize bows to clash above the painted hardwood on a drab gray foam battlefield in a fierce no-quarter contest of talent, skill, and will. Fell deeds indeed; heroes fell. Hopes fired and dreams slaughtered. Wills were shaken. Hearts splintered. A glory day, a red day, the sun rises on new champions! In other words, Saturday was the state championship cheerleader competition. Among the tremendously talented athletes, in one division two teams stood out: the blue team and the red team. Blue, the returning champions, may have been the best team in any division in the state; the red team had imbibed of the sweet succulent vintage of victor...

This week I discovered Bobby Hackett sort of in the way that Columbus discovered America--it was something that was already there but I hadn't known about it. In this case, I do not get to claim it for anything other than my own nonexclusive enjoyment. James Lileks at Lileks.com mentioned listening to Bobby Hackett. I was intrigued. I searched youtube and found some of his stuff available at the big river site. After a bit of listening I must liken it to musical silk chocolate (I see that silk chocolate could be taken to refer to soy milk. I take back that analogy.) dark chocolate, smooth with a hint of honey. In my youth I played the brass horn and learned to appreciate its robust metallic sound. I've enjoyed Louis Armstrong and Doc Severinsen and recognize their great talent. However, my favorite must be Hackett (now that I've discovered him for myself). I can almost hear the words gliding out of that horn in undulating-but-unwrinkled tones with the pleasantness o...

Melun : Fly, noble English; you are bought and sold. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion And welcome home again discarded faith. Seek out King John and fall before his feet, For if the French be lords of this loud day, He means to recompense the pains you take By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury, Even on that altar where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love. (King John, Act 5, Scene 4) I present the above as the inspiration for the possible title of the new novel. The title I'm currently contemplating is: Threading the Rude Eye (Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Book 1). Having written the book and nearly completed the preliminary editing before sending it to a more seasoned eye for proofing, I thought it would be nice if the book had a title. Many books have titles; I understand titles are useful in helping a book to stand out from the others and in aiding potential readers to...