Jeff Bezos: A Wealth Hoarder with MAGA Lipstick Marks on His Butt Cheeks

 

My Name Is Starship Cobain

VERSE 1

My name is Starship Cobain and I’m from Washington State

The capitalist kiss of death is something I fucking hate

Lost my job at the Amazon warehouse, tossed out like trash

Now I live check-to-check by slaving away for Door Dash

I can deal with my pain with a roll of medical Mary-Jane

I’d smoke that shit regardless of what the lawmakers say

It’s as legal as whoring yourself out in the city of Las Vegas

Until the feds catch you with your pants down playing Sega

VERSE 2

My name is Starship Cobain and I’m from Port Orchard

They should really think about changing the name to Poor Tortured

Everybody’s got a truck and they all voted for Trump

They got the bumper stickers to prove it and the sense of a tree stump

Everybody’s transmission sounds like a smoker’s cough

If you turned it up to eleven and exploded their heads off

Not much to do here but sit in line at the Burger King

And order a hundred whoppers with a tank of onion rings

VERSE 3

My name is Starship Cobain, let’s all go to Seattle

And pray we don’t get caught up in a gangster gun battle

All I want out of this city is a show with Pop Evil

Fuck around in the mosh pit with some drunk ass people

I miss the days of Nirvana and that whole damn scene

A generation depressed when Kurt blew his head off clean

There were many imitators, but none of them could compare

To the gravelly voice that made your hair stand in the air

VERSE 4

My name is Starship Cobain, what does that even mean?

Hell if I know, it probably came to me in a dream

Or maybe it was chosen by my schizophrenic voices

Because from here on out, they’ll always make my choices

Jealousy

***JEALOUSY***

In the age of social media, it’s easier than ever to compare and contrast yourself to other people. When you see one of your friends on Face Book getting married, you wonder why it’s not happening to you. When you see a Deviant Art buddy getting an ass-load of faves, you wonder why you don’t have any at all, let alone any views. When you see a Good Reads author achieve an average rating of 4:5 stars on one of their novels, you wonder why yours is below the 3.0 mark. The more we subject ourselves to this kind of comparative thinking, the more depressed we become. The easy solution would be to just stop comparing your life progress to your friends.

In the words of whoever sang the theme to Kingdom Hearts, “I don’t think life is quite that simple.” In the writing world, jealousy works both ways. I’ve had authors be jealous of me and I’ve been jealous of other authors. It’s perfectly natural to feel this way as long as it doesn’t consume you and turn you against the people you love. But that’s the thing: it is all consuming. It does eat away at the soul. I even have examples from my own life to prove this.

There are plenty of reasons to be jealous of another writer, but the one thing I envy above all others is the ability to write god knows how many words in the span of one day. Or one hour. Or half an hour. Or fifteen minutes. I get on Face Book all the time and see that this author is bragging about writing fifty thousand words in the span of a week, thus completing their novel. This author I speak of has an ass-load of books to their name too, each with high ratings on Good Reads and Amazon, so it’s not like any of this hard work is going to waste. Me? I consider myself lucky if I’m in the mental state to write a five-paragraph review for a forty page book. My foggy state of mind is a constant source of ire for me, so when I see other authors pumping out novels like hotcakes, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.

And then there were times when other authors were jealous of me (I can’t imagine why). Those who have followed me on social media for a long time know that I like to write blog entries about vacations I’m going on or rock concerts I’m attending. Last year in 2018, I’ve been to eight different concerts. This year, I’ve already seen three and I have four more in the future. And yes, I’m as braggadocios as the Face Book author who boasts about writing a gazillion words in three days, or whatever the statistic was. Going to rock concerts is something not everyone can afford to do on a regular basis, whether it has to do with work/school schedules, family emergencies, physical disabilities, or just not having enough money for it. So I’m going to try my damnedest to keep my concert talk to a minimum. I’ll still post them as life events on Face Book, but that’s all you’ll get from me.

While it is natural to feel jealous of other people in your life, the one thing you should never wish for is to swap lives with your friends or family. The one thing we all have in common is our pain. When you ask to swap lives with someone you’re jealous of, you take the bad with the good. Suppose you’re jealous of a friend who got married during a seven day trip at Universal Studios. That sounds like a shit-load of fun, but there’s a whole lot going on with that person that you don’t know about. He could be depressed and hiding it really well. He could have mountains of college debt. He could be a pariah in his neighborhood. Just because you see the best version of another person on social media, doesn’t mean you should wish for his life. Everyone has their pain and we all deal with it in our own unique way.

I don’t talk about my personal pain a lot on social media, so when I do it this time around, I hope it’ll ease some of the jealousy you have of my concerts, vacations, or whatever else is going on. You all know by now that I’m schizophrenic, overweight, and constantly tired all the time, right? Now here are some things you probably don’t know. I’ve been unemployed all of my life (except for volunteer work). My mother is having severe mobility issues and needs a walker to get around. I don’t know how to drive a car nor do I own one myself, so I’m confined to my bedroom most of the time. I’m painfully shy in big social situations, so my friends in this town are few and far between. My brother is dealing with bipolar disorder and had a few breakdowns recently. Okay, that’s enough for now. This isn’t a pain contest, but you get what I’m saying. You don’t want my life and I don’t want yours. We all have our own stories to tell and our own destinies going forward. Let it be that way.

If you’re going to be jealous of another person, don’t let it consume your life. The one thing authors need to remember is that we’re one big family who helps each other during the toughest times. This isn’t a competitive field. This is a tag team main event. That’s why I didn’t use names when I gave examples of jealousy, because those people are my friends through and through and I don’t want to paint them in a negative light. We can get shit done together if we put our minds to it. What’s that I always say at the end of my blog entries? Oh yeah, it’s…even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“You’re giving me too many things. Lately, you’re all I need. You smiled at me and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but does that mean I have to meet your father?” When we are older, you’ll understand what I meant when I said, “No, I don’t think life is quite that simple.” The daily things that keep us all busy are confusing me. That’s when you came to me and said, “Wish I could prove I love you, but does that mean I have to walk on water?” When we are older, you’ll understand it’s enough when I say so. And maybe some things are that simple. When you walk away, you don’t hear me say, “Please! Oh baby, don’t go!” Simple and clean is the way that you’re making me feel tonight. It’s hard to let it go. Hold me. Whatever lies beyond this morning is a little later on. Regardless of warnings, the future doesn’t scare me at all. Nothing’s like before.”

-“Simple and Clean” from Kingdom Hearts-

Lunatic Justice and Silent Warrior Announcements

***TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS***

I prepared two speeches tonight. Hopefully, I’ll get to use the one in my left pocket. No, I have no idea what that means either; I just heard it on an episode of The Shield. Let’s get started, shall we.

***LUNATIC JUSTICE***

First and foremost, it finally happened. My third collection of poetry, Lunatic Justice, is currently online in paperback and (soon to be) Kindle format, though it’ll take a few days for the book to actually be buyable. The poems cover a wide variety of topics whether it’s politics, anger, violence, drugs, bullying, or even something as simple as being stuck in traffic. There are a few comedy songs in there too whether it’s the David Bowie parody “Ground Control to Uncle Tom” or the ridiculously put-together “Conspiracy Theory”. This book is geared towards mature audiences due to the abundance of cursing, sex references, and delicious bloody violence.

Good Reads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38324494-lunatic-justice

Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1984137816/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1517543240&sr=1-1

***SILENT WARRIOR, CHAPTER 7***

Remember how I said a few blogs ago how I would never post sex-oriented chapters of Silent Warrior online? Well, my lovely beta reader Marie Krepps suggested that I post them to a safe haven for this kind of content, Wattpad. I wrote chapter seven two days ago and it’s there now if you want to read it. I should warn you all that it’s not all hot and spicy action. There’s some heart-wrenching drama shortly after Scott George gets done stroking his meat. Your hard-on will be dead by the time this chapter is over.

Wattpad Profile: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Garrison-Kelly

I’d give you all the direct link to chapter seven, but I’m exercising a little caution with this one since this blog entry is going live on my non-mature social media accounts.

***SILENT WARRIOR SIDE NOTE: TITLE***

The further I get into writing this novel, the more I question whether Silent Warrior is the best title for it. Sure, it sounds cool and all, but Scott George is neither silent nor a warrior. He’s very outspoken about his opinions and the most violent thing he’s done in this story so far is strangle Alan Young over the back of a bus seat (not to mention that Alan lives through the whole thing). Maybe something I can do tonight is brainstorm a list of possible alternatives for titles. One that I’m thinking about is “A Community of Worms”, which is a reference to the nightmare Scott has in the opening chapter. And yes, that nightmare and its characters will factor into the novel later on, in case you were wondering. I can’t think of any other title ideas at the moment, so I’ll leave it to you guys to let me know what you think of all of this.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking at the barrel of an Armalite. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days keeping out of trouble like the soldiers say. I don’t want to spend my time in hell looking at the walls of a prison cell. I don’t ever want to play the part of a statistic on a government chart. It’s dark all day and it glows all night. Factory smoke and acetylene light. I face the day with my head caved in looking like something that the cat brought in. And they’re only going to change this place by killing everybody in the human race. They would kill me for a cigarette. But I don’t even want to die just yet. There has to be an invisible sun. It gives its heat to everyone. There has to be an invisible sun. It gives us hope when the whole day’s done.”

-The Police singing “Invisible Sun”-

Backwoods Barbarian

***BACKWOODS BARBARIAN***

With American Darkness 3 suspended and Poison Tongue Tales 3 not even a possibility, I need something to work on to keep me busy and to keep my creative juices flowing. I originally wanted to do a modern day drama about fat-shaming called “Hulk Logan”, but I couldn’t pre-write it past the fifth chapter. I was hesitant to do the story I’m going to talk about in this blog entry, but then I realized something along the way. Though it could be categorized as fantasy, it’s actually a deconstruction of the violent messes Poison Tongue Tales, Demon Axe, and Occupy Wrestling have been. Yes, this new story will have plenty of fight scenes, but they’re not a means to an end.

I’m talking of course about Backwoods Barbarian, an environmental fantasy I’ve developed all the way to chapter twenty. Yeah, I know, everything has to be about barbarians. All barbarians 24/7. It’s all I ever think about, yada, yada, yada. What good is a barbarian’s rage if he keeps losing his fights and getting himself into trouble? This barbarian can’t win with brute force alone, because there are other fighters out there who are more powerful than him, particularly a dwarf monk named Sabin Rex and a werewolf assassin named Gray Miller (both characters I’ve used in past stories).

Who is this barbarian? Well, he’s not Deus Shadowheart. He’s not Brutus Warcry, either. In fact, if I reveal his name, it might be a tad upsetting to the originator of this character given how the barbarian was once used as a killing machine D&D character. His name is Agrusk Xis and he’s an orc who makes his solitary home in the woods.

He was once owned by an online friend named Timothy. He was also a former character in an attempted dark fantasy novel of mine in 2014 called Fireball Nightmare. I asked Tim if it was okay to use Agrusk in that manner and he said yes. Given Agrusk’s new role as a bumbling brute, Tim could possibly want to think twice about letting me use his character. If he wants me to withdraw Agrusk from Backwoods Barbarian, I’ll gladly do so and swap him out with another character.

If Tim should happen to say yes once again, then Agrusk will be a part of something greater than himself whether he uses brute force or not. As I’ve already established, Agrusk is an orc barbarian who lives in the woods hunting meat and picking fruit. His forest home is about to be chopped down for urban development thanks to the political strategy of Flora City Mayor Annette Cote. Agrusk just wants peace and quiet in his forest home, so he tries to muscle his way into keeping his solitary residence. Needless to say, he’s overpowered and outmanned.

Agrusk meets two environmental protesters along the way: an Amazonian Viking “singer” named Johnna Larson and a bagpipe-playing bard named Julie Piper. Throughout the novel, they teach him that using debate tactics and peaceful protest is more powerful at affecting change than anything he could do with an axe. The whole novel is one big internal battle between Agrusk and his conscience. Can he keep his temper under control or this hothead screw everything up with one moment of impatient rage?

I’ve tooled with the idea of an environmental fantasy before where the plot centered around the government cutting down somebody’s forest home for urban development. I wrote a 2010 D&D-style movie script called Tree Party Nation, where the forest was an eco-terrorist group’s base of operations. As I’ve mentioned earlier, in 2014 I wrote Fireball Nightmare, where the often-recycled Gary-Stu barbarian Deus Shadowheart protected the forest under the command of a living volcano. It’s 2018 and the third time will be the charm. Backwoods Barbarian will be the one that gets this concept right. Watching a “Terrible Writing Advice” You Tube video on environmentalism helped me figure things out.

So that’s it for now. Backwoods Barbarian is officially my next long-term project. It’ll be a departure from what I usually do (barbarism aside), especially considering that I’m shooting for 2,000 words per chapter instead of 1.500 like I normally do. At twenty chapters, that’s an even 40,000 words, which is the generally accepted minimum for a full-length novel. Wish me luck, guys. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***TELEVISION DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

JERRY: Hey George, ask that guy what street we’re on.

GEORGE: Excuse me, where are we?

STRANGER: Earth.

JERRY: Hey, we’re on the phone with the police!

-Seinfeld-

Wal-Martians

“Tell me again how this is different from any other day at Wal-Mart?” asked the metal-armored Amazon Alexis Lee as she stamped the butt of her spear into the pavement.

“You’ve been making that joke for hours, Alexis. Knock it off. Yes, we’re well aware that Wal-Mart has been taken over by these…creatures, if you want to call them that. We know how ironic it truly is. We still have a job to do whether you think it’s hilarious or not,” said the aura-covered paladin Micah Fireborn as he swung his sword in the air to warm up his muscles.

“Can we just get in there and rescue Lady Sakura already? This place gives me the fucking creeps,” said the muscle-bound, kilt-wearing barbarian Cain McLeod, who sharpened his double-edged axe with a stone. “Not one more joke out of you, Alexis!”

“Please? Just one more? What do you call a bunch of zealots who will die for a supermarket? Wal-Martyrs!” chuckled Alexis while her two companions sighed and held their faces in their free hands. “Come on, you have to admit that was good!”

“The hell I do!” belted Cain. “Can we please just start the damn mission and get that fucking religious nut out of there?”

“Fine, fine, you guys win. I guess killing will be funny enough,” frowned Alexis.

The three warriors marched their way through the parking lot knowing the fun and games were over and the ass beatings were about to commence. They pounded their weapon handles, let out short roars, and slapped their own faces to psych themselves up. When they reached the automatic double doors, they gagged and wheezed at the sight of green alien goop sealing the hinges together. “I got this,” said Micah Fireborn as he ignited his sword with an aura of fire and chopped through the slime with ease, splattering some on Alexis and Cain.

Alexis could barely tolerate the rancid stench, but Cain spewed his dinner all over the pavement while the Amazon giggled and the paladin shook his head at him. Cain wiped his mouth off with his leather gloves and pointed at Alexis before commanding, “Don’t you start with those jokes again! I mean it!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus, I won’t make anymore puns. You happy now? God!” whined Alexis. The three warriors kicked down the glass doors and chopped away at any remaining slime paste. Cain nearly emptied his bowels yet again when he saw that a drained human was underneath one of the slime piles. Micah grabbed him by the arm and jerked him into the store.

“See? What did I tell you guys?” asked Alexis rhetorically as the three fighters took in the surreal scenery of the invaded superstore. Skeletons and green slime decorated the floors, walls, and ceiling while the actual food items had mushrooms growing out of them. Legos were scattered across the floor and had blood sprinkled over some of them, most likely due to somebody stepping on them in bare feet. The assault rifle rack was useless since the barrels were dripping with this awful snot-like substance.

The warriors treaded lightly around the store and made sure to huddle together so they didn’t get separated. So far, no sign of the enemy, just lots and lots of snot, shit, and urine flooding the store. Just a tiny drop of this viscous substance landed on Cain’s nose and he immediately dropped to his knees dry heaving his guts out.

“For the love of God, Cain, get it together!” snapped Micah. “If you don’t like the smell of this stuff, why did you agree to this mission to begin with? You’re a barbarian, for shit’s sake! Suck it up, buttercup!”

“Trust me, Micah, he won’t be sucking that stuff up anytime soon,” joked Alexis, who afterwards raised her hands defensively when Micah and Cain scowled at her.

The stomach juices were really going haywire when the slime moved across the floor to various clothing items, whether it be ‘Murica T-shirts, jorts with holes in them, or Make America Great Again baseball caps. Micah, Alexis, and the newly recovered Cain backed up against the wall with home improvement tools and stood strong as the goo filled up these clothes until they were in the shape of alien creatures. Their whip-like tongues and tentacles swung from side to side in anticipation of their human meals.

Cain wasn’t vomiting anymore, Alexis wasn’t cracking jokes anymore, and Micah…well, he was the only serious one around. The three warriors stood their ground while Cain used his free hand to signal the aliens forward. “Come on, you fucking Wal-Martians! Let’s make ass-kicking great again!”

The aliens swarmed on the three heroes and were treated to high speed and high power chops, slashes, and pierces from each of their weapons. Alexis stuck her spear into one giant tub of goo and slammed the creature into others, creating a tidal wave of sick fluids in her wake. Cain spun around like a buzz saw with his axe and cleaved through hordes of aliens, turning their bodies into puddles of gelatin. Micah’s fiery sword cut through even more hordes of aliens and melted them to the point of boiling and steaming over the already thick Wal-Mart air.

“Is that all you got?!” taunted Cain while an alien wrapped its massive tentacle around Alexis’s legs and dragged her screaming across the filthy floor. When she dropped her spear and yelled for help, the barbarian shouted back, “I’ll save you, Alexis!” and dove after her. His end result was getting tackled in the ribs and sent flying across a shelf full of Lego sets.

Micah stabbed his flaming sword into the aliens repeatedly until they melted into a river of trash. His back was turned for one small second and an alien wrapped its tentacle around his throat before dragging him across the floor kicking and gurgling, leaving his blade behind. In the midst of his capture, he could see another tentacle wrapping itself around Cain’s body and pulling him as well.

The mass of alien humanity melded into one gigantic squid-like being, complete with more tentacles, more razor-sharp mouths, and more sickening slime that had Cain sticking his tongue out and heaving once again. Through this pool of disgust, not one warrior could get a good look at who was commanding this gigantic creature. All they heard was a raspy voice command, “Join us! Join my army and let us ride into heaven together!”

“You call this heaven?!” shouted Alexis. “I’d rather have the devil himself shove a fiery trident up my ass than go to your version of heaven!”

The tentacles squeezed harder around her legs and caused her to shriek in mind-blowing pain. The creature said, “So you must be the funny one of the group. You’re the one who likes to laugh at other people’s beliefs. You’re the one who likes to laugh at the prayers of the holy ones! I will not have such blasphemy in my church!”

“Church, my ass, you sick freak!” shouted Micah as he pulled some of the slime away from his neck. “Sakura Divine is more of a priest than you’ll ever be! She’ll be the one who guides us to heaven! Last time I checked, heaven didn’t look like a big ass used Kleenex!”

“You’re absolutely right!” belted the creature as she cinched the tentacle tighter around Micah’s neck. “Sakura Divine is quite the leader. She has the answers for us all. You’ve been listening to them the whole time!”

The faces of the warriors grew sullen as they realized what had just been revealed. Cain murmured, “No…no, it’s not true! You’re Sakura Divine?! You’re the one we came to save?!” After a demonic laughter from the slimy creature, Cain roared at Micah, “This is all your fault, you fucking altar boy! I told you we shouldn’t have trusted this religious whacko!”

Insulted by the “blasphemous” display, Sakura squeezed her tentacle around Cain’s ribs even harder than before while other tentacles joined in to squish him like a grape. Alexis screamed and hollered for mercy, but Cain’s body exploded into jelly once the constriction became too tight. “You sick little bitch!” Alexis shouted. “How could you do this to us?!” She too was squeezed by multiple tentacles until her body went kaboom like a nuclear warhead.

“No!” Micah shouted while struggling to break free from Sakura’s grip.

“Don’t fight it, Micah!” ordered Lady Divine. “You’re a noble paladin, a warrior of the light. You should know better than anybody how good heaven will feel once you walk past the pearly gates. End the struggle, my dear friend. Let the magic of heaven flow through your veins.”

“I’ll never join you!” shouted Micah.

“Don’t think too hard about your decision, paladin!” mocked Sakura. “I crushed your two friends because they were not worthy of such a trip into space. But you, Micah, you were destined for greatness. As of right now, you have two options: you can rot here forever in your own personal hell, or you can join me in my spaceship and we can rule over heaven together!”

Micah stopped struggling for a moment and actually had to think about this decision. He replayed both of his friends being crushed into gelatin in his head like a nagging schizophrenic vision. His mind went numb, his eyes became teary, and his body was relaxing. Being pasted to the ground of an already joked-about store like Wal-Mart was the true definition of hell. What if Sakura was right? What if heaven was waiting for him in that space ship?

“You know what, Sakura? I’m with you on one thing. I don’t want to go to hell tonight. But you will!” roared Micah as he activated his fiery aura to melt away the tentacle around his throat. Sakura screamed while the rancid goop melted down Micah’s nose and throat. He coughed and vomited several times, but he could feel the flame surge through him. He could feel his insides burning with passion and holiness. He stood up and shined his flaming aura even brighter until the entire store was covered in it. Sakura’s gelatinous form liquefied like butter…but only because that was what happened during hallucinatory trips.

In reality, Micah’s insides were burning for a much different reason: he swallowed the acidic mess. His brain cycled through different parts of the slimy battle whether he was in danger or fighting alongside his friends. His head was pounding with agony so badly that it felt like he was being smashed with a sledgehammer. His chest and stomach felt like he was going to through up so badly that he would turn himself inside out.

This was what it felt like to betray his religion and follow his own path. He was going to hell no matter what. But even with all of this pain wracking his body, he felt like he was already in heaven since he would be joining Cain and Alexis soon. They could crack all of the jokes they wanted and nobody would break them. Sakura may have shredded their bodies, but their souls were free. Was it worth the pain? Always. Even in death, Micah, Cain, and Alexis would make the afterlife great again.

Wonder Woman

MOVIE TITLE: Wonder Woman

DIRECTOR: Patty Jenkins

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Superhero

RATING: PG-13 for violence and language

GRADE: Extra Credit

In the middle of World War I, Amazon warrior Princess Diana grows up on an island of like-minded female fighters who train hard to one day be able to fend off an attack from Ares, God of War and slayer of Zeus. When an American spy crash lands on the island and is rescued from drowning by Diana, he unintentionally brings German soldiers with him and a battle ensues between the Amazons and the invaders. During the struggle Diana’s aunt is murdered in cold blood. Now Wonder Woman wants to venture outside the island to kill Ares herself in an attempt to bring an end to war. Her mother is against it at first, but knows she can do nothing to stop Diana and her independent ways.

We all know from past incarnations of Wonder Woman that she’s a badass superheroine who can withstand ungodly amounts of punishment and beat the hell out of anybody she deems fit for a royal ass-kicking. But she’s more than a mere fighting machine. Diana’s journey leads her to the shades of gray world of war, where nobody is purely evil or purely good. We all have to find the balance within ourselves and decide on our own what is right and wrong. This inner crisis makes Diana a stronger woman for what she goes through. She sees the horrors of war and decides she’s on the side of love and hope. The American spy she saves, Captain Steve Trevor, plays an intricate role in helping her see these shades of gray, but it is ultimately up to Diana which road to take. Her heroic aspirations are admirable, but she needs a little something extra. That is the point of this film and that’s a beautiful statement to make.

Part of Diana’s character development is learning the ways of the outside world since she spent all of her life on the island of Amazons. Watching her struggle to adapt is amusing at times and actually brings out the cuteness in her character. Whether she’s trying on outfits, figuring out relationships, or criticizing a general to his face, she comes off as socially awkward and that’s the source of comedy for this movie. My favorite part of this trope is when Steve Trevor’s secretary is describing what she does for a living and Diana says that it’s basically slavery. Can’t argue with that! But then there are some socially awkward moments that make her appear romantic, like when she learns out to dance (or sway from side to side) with Steve. This kind of culture shock is realistic for anybody who’s lived in isolation, but it doesn’t turn into a chaotic disaster and that’s what makes the quirk effective.

Of course, what would a superhero movie be without that delicious action-packed violence? Wonder Woman will give you plenty of that, but sometimes you’ll have to be a good little boy and wait patiently. The training on the Amazonian island, the crossing of No Man’s Land, and most definitely the final battle with Ares, these are all filled with martial arts action, gun play, and explosions. Lots and lots of explosions. It’s also quite refreshing to see a strong female role model like Diana dishing out these ass-kickings. And while we’re on the subject of role-modeling, please stop complaining about the “sexy” nature of her outfit. She can wear whatever she damn well wants to and beat the crap out of her opponents at the same time. Sexual predators would get beaten into powder if they tried anything they shouldn’t. If I was fighting a war of any kind, I’d want Wonder Woman on my side at all times. She’s tough, she’s brutal, and she’s brave as hell.

Now that we’re on the topic of feminist superheroines, there’s a massive elephant in the room that needs to be addressed. I’m sure most of my audience has read in the news about a theater in Austin, Texas having an all-female screening of the movie as a show of solidarity and girl power. Even though I’m a man, I’m not at all offended by that. The reason we have feminism in the first place is because for far too long women have been treated like second class citizens. They still get treated that way today. Good for that movie theater for stepping up! And good for Gal Gadot for putting on an awesome show for that female audience! Because of the profound influence this movie has had on the female community, I’m giving it an ultra-rare Extra Credit grade! How does that sound?!

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Swear Words

Many told Bernard Hamm that he would never amount to anything. They told him he would die in his twenties due to his obesity. They told him he was too lazy to get anything done. And yet, here he was sitting at a booth at the Paulson City Public Library signing copies of his debut fantasy novel “Memento Mori”. The crowd was modest in size, but Bernard didn’t mind. The fact that he got his novel out there said something to all of his haters: that he was here to stay despite being over three hundred pounds.

Mr. Hamm looked the part of a professional author in his beige polo shirt, black slacks, and thick-rimmed glasses. He also felt like one when his massive autographing hand was getting tired. He gripped his wrist and rolled his hand around as if that would give him any circulation. He had to put his exhausted paw to use once again when he wagged a finger at a teenaged girl trying to take pictures of him, to which she apologized and walked off.

One person Bernard kept his eye on was a caramel-skinned man with puffy black hair and a white tank top. The familiar figure kept looking at his dying cell phone and cursing loudly, to which the librarians had to shush him. Bernard shook his head and continued singing autographs until the last of the small crowd had dispersed for the day. The tubby author clutched his wrist and rolled his hand around some more. He even opened and closed his fingers while the puffy-haired gentleman asked the clerk loudly for internet access.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Bernard kept his eyes down and fiddled with his hands some more, a sure sign that anxiety was building within him. Maybe it was time to get the hell out of this library for the day. But first, Bernard cracked both of his wrists and popped his fingers, as if this would alleviate some of his nervousness. He also took deep breaths due to his heart racing inside his massive body. Just get up and walk casually out the door.

“Barney-Boy? Is that you, buddy?” said the loudmouth from across the library. The shit-eating grin on his face put a saggy frown on Bernard’s. “Remember me, big man?” said the man as he approached the author’s booth. “It’s your boy, Diego Martinez! We used to go to school together! Holy shit, man! You ain’t changed one bit, buddy!”

“Some things never do,” said Bernard with his chin shamefully tucked against his chest.

“Holy shit, I gotta get a picture of this. This is gonna go live, man! You’re gonna be famous!” said Diego as he pulled out his cell phone. “I still got some juice left. How did that happen? Let’s snap a few of these bad boys!”

“Put the phone away, Diego. I don’t allow pictures at my book signings,” said Bernard with a lack of conviction, still keeping the shameful look on his pudgy face.

“Hey, it’s a free country, man. I’ll take a picture of whatever I want. Besides, you want people to buy whatever the fuck you wrote, right? Well, you gotta put yourself out there, big man,” said Diego before snapping the first few pictures and yelling “OH!”

“Put the goddamn phone away and stop taking pictures of me! Don’t you have any respect for privacy?” said Bernard as his tone grew more aggressive with his sausage fingers clenched.

“Man, you ain’t gonna get no sales sitting behind a booth all day. Trust me, buddy, you need those sales for some kind of gym membership or something,” said Diego while snapping more pictures.

Bernard’s chubby cheeks were burning bright pink. His short fingernails dug into his palms. Sweat poured from his face like a rainstorm with plenty of thunderclouds. “I’m going to count to five. If you don’t put that goddamn phone away, I’m going to bend you over this booth and shove it up your ass!”

“Man, why the fuck do you care about stupid shit like that? That bullying business was a long time ago. Ain’t nobody gonna care if you’re a big guy. Your doctor might, but I don’t think anyone else will. Seriously, man, I’m doing you a favor. You need some motivation or something,” said Diego while once again snapping photos with the frequency of a machinegun.

“That’s it!” shouted Bernard as he bulldozed the booth and charged at Diego, who was too busy playing the role of paparazzi to notice the three hundred pound juggernaut was ready to strike. Diego snapped out of his Face Book-addicted trance long enough to feel boa constrictor fingers around his throat.

Everyone around the library went from anxious ignorance to fleeing panic, screaming as they ran away rather than doing something to help Diego. The librarian behind the desk fumbled with the phone cradle as she punched three familiar numbers. Her speech was reduced to stuttering gibberish as she fearfully related the incident over the phone.

As the purple-faced Diego was on his knees trying to pry Bernard’s fingers loose, the heavy hitter bellowed, “I told you not to take any fucking pictures, you stupid son of a bitch! I don’t like being fat! I don’t like being bullied online! I don’t like…!”

The fading Diego used the last of his strength to uppercut Bernard in the balls, forcing him to release the chokehold and stumble on the ground holding his family jewels. The wannabe photographer rolled on his side and coughed up a conservative amount of blood before taking labored breaths in and out that felt like swallowing knives.

As soon as he got an adequate amount of oxygen in his lungs, Diego pointed his finger at the downed Bernard and said, “You know what? I tried to help you! I tried to put the good word out there! I tried to help you get some motivation to get your fat ass off the couch! Now I’m gonna sue your ass!” He pointed at the shivering librarian and said, “You’re gonna be my witness!”

The librarian crouched down on the floor in the fetal positions and stuttered, “I…I can’t do that, Mr. Martinez. I…I just…I can’t!”

Diego leapt to his feet and sucked down a whirlwind of precious oxygen. “You saw what that fat fucker did to me! You’d better cooperate! I’ll sue this whole damn library if I have to! What’re you guys good for anyways?!” He slowly stalked the cowering librarian like a tiger on a wounded animal. “You think either you or this fat bastard over here are gonna get famous with books?! Nobody cares about books no more! I came in here to get some free internet and you’re gonna give it to me, bitch!”

Bernard held onto a nearby bookshelf to try and pull himself to his feet, but he kept his legs crossed due to the searing pain in his balls. He fell over on his side and watched Diego hold a hand up like he was going to slap the librarian for not doing her job. Mr. Martinez shouted, “Come on, little lady! Be a woman! Do what I tell you!”

Bernard got on his hands and knees in another attempt to pull himself up, but he fell over once again, the pain in his groin too much. Diego’s shouting turned into a cacophony of gibberish, which meant the corpulent author was fading into darkness. He heard the sound of skin slapping skin and that was enough to wake him up in a burning rage.

He slowly stood up while trying to ignore the pain in his nuts. Diego was a blur from where he was standing, but he was enough of a clear shape for Bernard to unleash his pent up anger. So many times he’d been called out for being fat. So many times he was called a loser. So many girls refused to go on dates with him. Those that did ended up doing it on a dare. And now this piece of shit known as Diego Martinez was going to bring those nightmares back to life like a necromantic apocalypse.

Bernard grabbed a hardcover book off of the shelf and tried to focus his eyes on Diego, who was screaming more gibberish and slapping the librarian in short bursts. The good thing about being this massive was that it gave Bernard a liberal amount of strength. He raised the book over his head while the pain in his nuts got hotter. Even with a testicle injury, Bernard threw the hardcover book and dropped to his knees in pain.

He heard a loud thud before his vision became somewhat dark. The last thing he remembered hearing was the sound of a body dropping on the floor. Even with blurry eyes opening halfway, that hairdo of Diego Martinez was unmistakable. Even little spots of red danced across Bernard’s eyes.

The hardcover book found its mark: right in the back of Diego’s head. Why lift weights when the strength was already there? Why change who he was when his inner strength was more impressive than his physical strength? Bernard would have loved to tell Diego that, but both men were too unconscious to have a real conversation.

The next couple of days were a blur for Bernard Hamm. He spent some of that time in the hospital and was too sedated to remember it all. He stayed at home recuperating and dreaded getting out of bed one morning because his computer was right there. With computers came internet service. With internet service came trolls. With trolls came pictures snapped by Diego’s phone.

Bernard’s stomach was in more knots than a hangman’s rope, which he was certain he needed once this day was over. How many days had it been since the incident in the library? Two? Three? Seven? Surely that amount of time was long enough for a few fat pictures to circulate.

The author slumped out of bed, but slowly, not only to help him recover, but also to delay having to see the inevitable. He sat down at his desk with ease and powered on his computer. As the machine was booting up, so was the cold feeling in his veins and the ill feeling in his stomach. He broke out in an icy sweat and took note of his rapidly beating heart. And then the computer was fully functional.

Bernard took labored breaths before opening Google Chrome and checking his Amazon page. Sure enough, the trolls had come out from under their bridges. One-star reviews, fat jokes until the end of time, and Photoshopped pictures of Bernard as Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars. Tears welled up in the author’s eyes as he grabbed a nearby tissue and blew his wide nose.

What he saw next brought even more waterfalls to his sore eyes: five-star reviews to counteract the one-star hits, book sales doubling, and comments about Bernard Hamm’s heroism in the library when he knocked out Diego Martinez long enough for the cops to take the obnoxious punk to jail.

Bernard’s chest was soaked with tears and snot. He couldn’t blow his nose fast enough to keep all of the emotion from flowing out of him. For every Diego Martinez in this world, there was an angel from the heavens. For every anti-fat bigot, there was a beautiful soul. For every poorly-spelled message on an internet board, there was a copy of “Memento Mori” sitting on a bookshelf waiting to be read. For the first time in Bernard Hamm’s life, he was free.

Author Interview: Jesikah Sundin

1. What was the inspiration for you wanting to be an author?

Other authors, without question. I’ve always been fascinated by the art of storytelling. Even as a child, I would dissect books into their various parts: world building, characters, plot, and theme. Libraries were my favorite place outside of nature. Rows and rows and shelves upon shelves of adventures and information just waiting to be discovered and known. Happiness.

2. In your opinion, what are the qualities of a likeable book?

An immersive world, many complex plot layers, with believable characters is incredibly important to me as a reader. Flawed characters who elicit a gamut of emotional reactions are the absolute best. I also enjoy lyrical writing styles and vivid descriptions. I’m a sucker for good scenery exposition. I want to feel the magic of a waning sunset and rising moon, the wind touching each leaf, the spray of salt water colliding with earth. With this combination, everything around me dims as the words float off the page and become a living, breathing story.

3. Does music play a role in your creative process?

Absolutely! In fact, on Spotify I have a near-eleven-hour playlist with songs that feed my writing for this series, aptly titled The Biodome Chronicles. The music ranges from industrial electronica, alternative metal, grunge, dubstep, orchestral pieces from movies and video games, to pop and rock favorites from various bands.

4. What sources of creative fuel do you draw inspiration from?

Books, maps, poetry, as well as fantasy, scifi, and travel visuals on Pinterest. I love art. LOVE it. Sometime I peruse DeviantArt to absorb the beauty, whimsy, and ethereal imagery of people and words, real or imagined. 

5. How did you break into the writing business?

Well, I had left a career a month earlier and yearned for a new adventure. Storytelling and writing is a huge part of who I am. So much so, a few friends and my father all suggested I write a novel. Within the year, a collection of serendipitous moments led me into relationship with other authors who kindly held my newbie hand through drafting, revision, and the various stages of publishing. They were so patient, answering my many questions and sharing their hard-earned wisdom. I owe so much to each of them.

6. Do you prefer paperback or digital books and why?

I prefer paperbacks. Nothing beats the feel of a book in your hand or flipping pages. I love the swish sound, too! *le sigh* However, I also read books on my phone and Kindle device. Sometimes I’m too impatient for the next book in series to arrive or don’t have space to pack the preferred paperback.

7. In your opinion, how important are libraries to our society?

Libraries are the cornerstone of a healthy society and the building blocks for freedom. All people should have free access to books and resources of information. I’m a huge supporter, whether neighborhood little lending libraries or government institutions.

8. What are the qualities of having a sympathetic main character?

This is a fantastic question. For me, a sympathetic character is flawed, either by choice or by circumstance. They should feel real, possessing both likeable and unlikeable qualities. Their struggles become my struggles. Their heartache my heartache. I want to grit my teeth when they make poor choices, hold my breath as they strive to overcome, and cheer when they finally do. And, if they don’t, empathize with their despair and disappointment. But in order for me to feel any form of sympathy? They can’t be perfect people who do perfect things every perfect moment of every perfect page.   

9. What did you do for a living prior to becoming an author?

Oh, wow. A stew pot of occupations. Let’s see … most positions have been in business administration. I was a licensed bridal consultant / wedding coordinator at one point. Also a Kindermusik educator for ages newborn through five years. I worked in a boutique dress shop in my late teens, selling handmade designer antique-styled clothing fashioned from the Regency era, the 1920’s, and 1930’s. Loved the linens and pinafores and French peasant inspired colors and designs. But, those fun jobs were fleeting compared to years and years of administration odd-end jobs. The job I held right before authordom was Director of Operations for a Kindermusik studio.

10. Do you have any words of wisdom for aspiring authors who might be reading this interview?

Write. Pour words onto a page. Don’t worry if it’s well written or the worst stuff ever penned in the history of the world. As a writer, your job is to tell a story. That’s it. Tell a story. An editor will polish the writing to make your story shine. Beta readers will help you fill in plot and character cracks and crevices so the reading experience is even smoother. But your job is to purge the story, no matter how messy the process. Neatly chisel each word into existence or vomit the letters onto the page. But get them out. Once you do, editors, beta readers, and fellow writers will be there to help you the rest of the way. It takes a village to write a novel! :)

 LEGACY (The Biodome Chronicles #1)

by Jesikah Sundin

ISBN-13: 978-0-9913453-7-3

ISBN-10: 0-9913453-7-1

ASIN: B01KBAL1JM

Amazon      

Barnes & Noble   

Smashwords

Apple

Kobo

Cover: http://www.jesikahsundin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Legacy-full-EBOOK-cover-final-updated-2014-JPEG-2-brighter-cover.jpg

LOGLINE:

Worlds collide when a hacker form the near-future helps siblings from an experimental medieval colony decode the mystery behind their father's death in a psychological game of survival. 

SHORT DESCRIPTION:

Siblings born and raised inside an earth-based experimental Mars biodome have only known a rustic medieval life rich in traditions and chivalry. Groomed by The Code, they have built a sustainable community devoid of Outsider interference––until the unthinkable happens.

Cultures clash when the high technology of the Anime Tech Movement collides with the Middle Ages in a quest for truth, unfolding a story rich in mystery, betrayal and love. 

LONG DESCRIPTION:

A sensible young nobleman, Leaf Watson, and his sister, Willow Oak, live a rustic medieval life rich in traditions and chivalry. Sealed inside an experimental biodome since infancy, they have been groomed by The Code to build a sustainable community devoid of Outsider interference.

They are unwitting pioneers on a path toward confined interplanetary homesteading.

Life within their walled garden is predictable and peaceful until the unthinkable happens. With his dying breath, Leaf and Willow’s noble father bequeaths a family secret, placing an invisible crown of power on Leaf’s head. Grief-stricken and afraid for their lives, the siblings defy their upbringing by connecting with Fillion Nichols, a punk hacker who, unbeknownst to them, is linked to their lives in shocking ways. Their encounter launches Fillion into a battle with his turbulent past as he urgently decodes the many secrets that bind them together, a necessity for each to survive.

Youth cultures clash when the high technology of the Anime Tech Movement collides with the Middle Ages in a quest for truth, unfolding a story rich in mystery, betrayal and love.

AWARDS / HONORS:

LEGACY proclaimed winner of:
2014 Chanticleer Book Reviews Great Beginnings Cygnus winner for Sci-Fi/Fantasy
2014 National Indie Excellence Award Finalist for Science Fiction.
2014 Cygnus Award for Sci-Fi / Cyberpunk
2014 Dante Rossetti Award for Sci-Fi / Cyberpunk
2014 Dante Rossetti Grand Prize Award for Young Adult Fiction

REVIEW BLURBS:

"A captivating YA hybrid of sci-fi and medieval fantasy, mystery, and romance, Legacy opens The Biodome Chronicles series with divergent worlds on a carefully planned collision course." -- Chanticleer Book Reviews

"Jesikah Sundin is pioneering a whole new genre: near-future medieval fantasy with a cyberpunk twist..." -- Selah J. Tay-Song, award-winning author of Dreams of QaiMaj series

"...This book was beautifully written. It was detailed, immersive, and had a subtlety that I cannot help but be impressed by." -- Kookie Krysp Reviews 

AUTHOR BIO:

Jesikah Sundin is a sci-fi/fantasy writer mom of three nerdlets and devoted wife to a gamer geek. In addition to her family, she shares her home in Monroe, Washington with a red-footed tortoise and a collection of seatbelt purses. She is addicted to coffee, laughing, and Dr. Martens shoes ... Oh! And the forest is her happy place.

Website               Tumblr

Goodreads         Pinterest

Facebook            YouTube

Twitter                 LinkedIn

Instagram

Profile Picture: http://www.jesikahsundin.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Jesikah-Sundin-Author-2-square-e1436908785364.jpg

ADDITIONAL BOOKS / IMAGES:

The Biodome Chronicles:  https://scontent.fsnc1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/t31.0-8/13254786_811098469022873_2959663607339095703_o.jpg

ELEMENT (The Biodome Chronicles #2)

ISBN-13: 978-0-9913453-6-6

ISBN-10: 0-9913453-6-3

ASIN: B011AHP1CS

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Apple

Kobo

Cover: http://www.jesikahsundin.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Elements-front-cover-FB.jpg

TRANSITIONS: Novella Collection (The Biodome Chronicles #2.5)

ISBN-13: 978-0-9913453-4-2

ISBN-10: 0-9913453-4-7

ASIN:  B01FEAWV3E

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Apple

Kobo

Cover: http://jesikahsundin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Transitions-front-cover-RGB.jpg

A Lesson In Literary Marketing

***A LESSON IN LITERARY MARKETING***

Whenever I’ve written a short story or a novel, I wrote it with the idea of doing it for me and me alone. Every character, every plot device, every climax, they were all built around my own personal interests and core values. During these times of self-service, I forget that I’ve often described myself as an island with my interests. Let’s take a look at all of these keywords: liberal politics, professional wrestling, heavy metal music, mental illness, new age music, animal welfare, Dungeons & Dragons-style fantasy, adult Lego fandom, and so many more than I’m often forgetting and often clustering together. Some of these things go great together while others may ruin the witch’s cauldron that is my core values.

As a writer, appealing to yourself will always result in having a fun time. While such individual thinking is encouraged for all forms of art, if you want to get yourself out there, you also have to appeal to people who will actually take an interest in what you do. In other words, you have to know who your audience is.

The example I want to use for this parable is my self-published urban fantasy pro-wrestling novella Occupy Wrestling. Every person who has ever read it from cover to cover has had the same complaint: unfamiliarity with wrestling logic and terminology. The strange lingo, I can understand where they’re coming from. Not everybody knows what the hell a spine-buster is or why being called a jabroni is a particularly humiliating insult.

But even if I were to scrub the novella clean of all wrestling slang, the story would still operate on wrestling logic. Only in wrestling can you justify two guys nearly killing each other over a “stupid” gold encrusted belt. Only in wrestling do you fight one day and come up fresh as a daisy the next day almost injury free. Only in wrestling does doing everything once a week make any sense at all. I can scrub the vocabulary clean, but if I scrubbed the logic clean, it would cease to be a wrestling story. Hell, it wouldn’t be a story at all, for that matter.

Occupy Wrestling is currently sitting pretty at 2.75 stars on Good Reads and Amazon. Even the two people who gave it favorable reviews (Edward Davies and Andy Peloquin) were scratching their heads at the wrestling logic and lingo. My beta reader Marie Krepps was even scratching her head despite watching wrestling during the Attitude Era in the 1990’s.

There’s a lesson to be learned here: if you have a product of any kind, market it to the right people. Do you have a science-fiction story about cute cuddly kitties? Market it to people who make frequent visits to the Humane Society. Do you have an instructional manual about crocheting? That sounds like an activity for an older generation, so market it to them. What’s that? You have a basketball drama? Market it to people who like basketball.

Following this logic, what should I do with Occupy Wrestling? Should I continue to send free copies to English professors, chick-lit lovers, and nonviolent people? Or should I market this book to…(drum roll)…wrestling fans?! Let’s think about this for a minute. Do you know why “YES!” by Daniel Bryan is currently holding a 4.05-star rating on Good Reads? It’s because it’s been marketed to wrestling fans, like me.

I love it myself, but let’s face it, Mr. Bryan writes like a celebrity. His memoir style is nowhere near as polished as Alison Bechdel, James Frey, or Elizabeth Wurtzel. Then again, people love “YES!” because they love wrestling and they love Daniel Bryan. Could I possibly do the insane thing and slip copies of Occupy Wrestling to the Dave Meltzers, Vince McMahons, Stephanie McMahons, and Eric Bischoffs of the world? Imagine that: giving people what they like instead of what you think they should like. Who would’ve thunk it?

Remember, boys and girls: you may get knocked down and it may hurt for a long period of time. Everybody experiences failure at least one point in their lives. It’s our ability to get back up, dust ourselves off, and go back to the drawing board to alter our strategies that makes us immortal in the end. Nobody thought The Beatles would be as big as they’ve been over the past half-century. Michael Jordan locked himself in his room and cried his eyes out when his high school basketball tryouts went up in smoke. There are people who still think Daniel Bryan is a B+ player despite everything he’s been through. None of these famous people gave up and neither should you. They changed their approach to life and I’m changing mine as well. Now I just have to figure out how to reach the wrestling fans in a way that they can relate to my novella. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***CURRENT AND FUTURE PUBLICATIONS***

As of today, I have three defunct publications and three active ones. The active ones are Confessions of a Schizophrenic Savage (poetry and song anthology), American Darkness (contemporary drama anthology), and Occupy Wrestling (urban fantasy novella). Though self-publishing these three active books hasn’t earned me a great deal of fame or fortune, I’m still grateful that they’re out there and in the public eye. I don’t write because I want to be greater than JK Rowling or Stephen King. I write because I love to create beautiful things. You can call it artistic passion, the creative urge, or just plain autistic tendencies. Either way, there will be other self-published books to come and no matter how tough things get, there will be no giving up. Here’s a look at those future publications:

　

American Darkness 2: Black State (contemporary drama anthology)

Blood Brawl (Dungeons & Dragons-style fantasy novel)

Filter Feeder (environmental fantasy novel)

Necrograph (dark poetry and heavy metal song anthology, almost a sequel to Confessions of a Schizophrenic Savage)

Poison Tongue Tales (science-fiction, fantasy, and horror anthology)

Watch You Burn (psychological fantasy novel)

　

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

“Coincidence is killing an oversized house spider with a paperback copy of ‘Silence of the Lambs‘. Irony is using a Carl Hiaasen novel instead.”

-Me-

"Blade of the Destroyer" by Andy Peloquin

BOOK TITLE: Blade of the Destroyer
AUTHOR: Andy Peloquin
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Medieval Fantasy
GRADE: Pass


The Hunter is a ruthless contract killer who always finishes his assignments and demands his payment right away. His methods are as mysterious as his actual birth name. He does everything on his own terms. Those who double-cross him will find themselves brutalized in the worst possible way. Rumors of his deadliness have spread far and wide, creating the illusion that he is invincible. But when he finishes an assassination of a high-ranking lord, he finds out that the aristocrat is involved with a criminal empire known as the Bloody Hand. Only through dealing with these merciless thugs will The Hunter’s invincibility be truly tested.

The reason this book gets a passing grade (four stars if you’re on Good Reads) is because of how well-constructed it is. Everything is so intricately researched to where the author himself feels like an authority on contract killings and stealth trickery. Whenever The Hunter needs a disguise, he not only puts on the right clothing, but he also puts plaster on his face to match the physical description of that character. When he needs an entry point into a castle or a fortress, he sneaks to the tippy-top of that building and eases his way inside with no problems. When he fights his opponents, they not only go down, they stay that way either through brutal incapacitation or death itself. The Hunter does everything he possibly can to keep his identity a secret while successfully going in for the kill.

As cold and calculating as he is, The Hunter is not without personal feelings. Every once and a while, he’ll meet with a small child or a lonely beggar that he feels so much sympathy for that he’ll pay them a little extra money and attention when walking by. He even allows beggars outside of his home, mostly to maintain subterfuge, but also because they have nowhere else to go. And whenever The Hunter sees a pretty woman, he’s not without his primal urges to get in bed with her and do the nasty. This goes to show that no matter how much you push your feelings down for the sake of your profession, they will always come back stronger than ever. It’s what makes us human, and though people think of The Hunter as godlike, he is human.

But if there’s one part about this novel that really had my attention, it’s The Hunter’s weapon of choice, the Bloodhunger. It’s a jagged dagger that not only rips flesh and shatters bones, but also drains the spiritual essence out of those it penetrates. When Bloodhunger wants blood, he’ll get it one way or another. Did I say he? That’s because the dagger actually communicates with The Hunter in a schizophrenic fashion whenever it’s time to kill someone. The hungrier the dagger is, the louder the head voices become. Sometimes The Hunter will have witty banter or a philosophical discussion in his own head about oligarchies, romance, and such, and Bloodhunger will completely interrupt his train of thought with violent words. Not only is this a creepy and frightening part of the story, but it’s also quite original. Any form of against the grain creativity will always strike a chord with not just me, but also other readers.

Andy Peloquin may be an independent author, but he’s no rookie. If he is, he doesn’t write like one. His descriptions paint a vivid image in the reader’s mind just like any piece of writing should. Blade of the Destroyer is no exception to that rule. You should also follow his blogs on Good Reads since his words of wisdom will ring true with any aspiring author. I follow him on Good Reads and we’ve actually become good friends over time. This passing grade I’m giving his book isn’t because we’re good friends. It’s because he’s a damn good writer with infinite potential and a creative mind. He can get the job done come hell or high water.




 

Tagline/Elevator Pitch:



A faceless, nameless assassin. A forgotten past. The Hunter of Voramis--a killer devoid of morals, or something else altogether? (Blade of the Destroyer--dark fantasy with a look at the underside of human nature)



Book Blurb:


The Last Bucelarii (Book 1): Blade of the Destroyer


The Hunter of Voramis is the perfect assassin: ruthless, unrelenting, immortal. Yet he is haunted by lost memories, bonded to a cursed dagger that feeds him power yet denies him peace of mind. Within him rages an unquenchable need for blood and death.

When he accepts a contract to avenge the stolen innocence of a girl, the Hunter becomes the prey. The death of a seemingly random target sends him hurtling toward destruction, yet could his path also lead to the truth of his buried past?

　

Book Info:



Title: The Last Bucelarii (Book 1): Blade of the Destroyer

Author: Andy Peloquin

Official Launch Date: August 21st, 2015

Publication Date: July 11^th, 2015

Paperback Price: $15.99

Digital Price: $3.99

Pages: 298

ISBN: 1515038955

　

Buy Links:



Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Blade-Destroyer-Last-Bucelarii-Book-ebook/dp/B012EI9M4A/

Amazon Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Blade-Destroyer-Last-Bucelarii-Book/dp/1515038955/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25269614-blade-of-the-destroyer

　

Book Launch Event:



https://www.facebook.com/events/1625045874438351/

　

Bio:


Andy Peloquin: Lover of All Things Dark and Mysterious


Andy Peloquin--a third culture kid to the core--has loved to read since before he could remember. Sherlock Holmes, the Phantom of the Opera, and Father Brown are just a few of the books that ensnared his imagination as a child.

When he discovered science fiction and fantasy through the pages of writers like Edgar Rice Burroughs, J.R.R Tolkien, and Orson Scott Card, he was immediately hooked and hasn't looked back since.

Andy's first attempt at writing produced In the Days: A Tale of the Forgotten Continent. He has learned from the mistakes he made and used the experience to produce Blade of the Destroyer, a book of which he is very proud.

Reading—and now writing—is his favorite escape, and it provides him an outlet for his innate creativity. He is an artist; words are his palette.

His website (http://www.andypeloquin.com) is a second home for him, a place where he can post his thoughts and feelings--along with reviews of books he finds laying around the internet.

He can also be found on his social media pages, such as:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndyPeloquin

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andyqpeloquin

www.linkedin.com/in/andypeloquin/

https://plus.google.com/100885994638914122147/about

https://www.amazon.com/author/andypeloquin

https://www.facebook.com/andrew.peloquin.1


　

10 Things You Need to Know About Me:
Hot wings, ALWAYS!
I never forget a face, but rarely remember a name.
I'm a head taller than the average person (I'm 6' 6")
Marvel > DC
I was born in Japan, and lived there until the age of 14.
Selena Gomez and Five Finger Death Punch are both in my playlist.
Aliens are real, but it's self-centered of us to believe that they would come to visit Earth.
Watching sports: suck. Playing sports: EPIC!
I earned a purple belt in Karate/Hapkido/Taekwondo.
I dislike most Christmas music, aside from Trans-Siberian Orchestra.
　
Reviews:



"Creative, gritty, and beautifully dark...fantasy addicts will love it!" -- Peter Story, author of Things Grak Hates -- http://peterjstory.com/

"The fantasy world has a compelling new antihero…the Hunter will terrify and captivate you." - Eve A Floriste, author of Fresh Cut

"From the first words on the page this fantasy holds the reader spellbound even after the book is finished…his character is very well-defined even if his past is a mystery. Root for an assassin? Oh, yes, one must!" -- Carol Conley, for InDTale Magazine

　

Makoto Lionheart

NAME: Makoto Lionheart

AGE: 18

OCCUPATION: Samurai Clown

CANON: The Macaroni & Ownage Project

Those stats alone should tell you how much of a colorful character Makoto had the potential to be. How many samurai clowns are there in this world? And how many people can genuinely say they were part of something called The Macaroni & Ownage Project, whatever the hell that is? It’s a delightfully weird hodgepodge we’ve got going on here. And yet, when I dropped the ball with Makoto, it was the size of a bowling ball and it broke my fucking foot. What could have possibly went wrong with such a chaotic character? Well, seeing as how none of the chaos was controlled, I can think of a number of ways.

In 2007, I wrote a fantasy movie script called The Macaroni & Ownage Project, where a bunch of medieval juggalos rebel against an oppressive and religiously zealous leader named Rajim Kane. The group of clowns responsible for the rebellion would ambush and humiliate Mr. Kane’s forces, just like lunatic clowns do. They’d do things like dry hump a few knights, throw shit-flavored pies in preachers’ faces, and smack around a noble king with a popping jack-in-the-box. Think of the most bizarre and disrespectful shit you can and these clowns did it all. I’m sure a dead ringer for The Artist Formerly Known as Goldust was somewhere within their ranks.

Makoto Lionheart was a member of this organization and even wore the face paint and clown nose to prove it. She just wasn’t as degenerate as her cohorts. In fact, her male counterpart Lee Murdoch seemed to think she was too soft, so he would subject her to sexual ridicule to try to bring out her inner demons. Smart strategy, right? Not!

Although, to Makoto’s credit, she eventually turned to the dark side when it mattered the most. She was kidnapped by a group of Amazon prostitutes (I’m rolling my eyes just saying that) and broke free by disgusting them to death. How did she do it? By ripping out a client’s skull and spinal cord and then coating the body parts in sugar before licking it like a lollipop. Yeah, there’s no way such a movie would get under an NC-17 rating.

Unfortunately, that Faces of Death-style grotesqueness was Makoto’s shining moment in that movie. Well, that and choking Lee Murdoch into unconsciousness with a head scissors leg lock during a fighting tournament. If such sickening sights are the high point of a movie, what are the low points? And you know what the worst part about all of this was? These horrifying antics were normal to me. They still are a little bit normal to me. Yes, I’ve mellowed out considerably over the years, but something deep inside me keeps yelling in a Cavalera-esque voice, “Blood! Fire! War! Hate!” Either that, or I’m listening to Soulfly’s “Conquer” album, one of the two.

So now that another story is about to get Makoto’s sloppy seconds, what exactly am I supposed to do with someone who could be a repeat offender for the Worst Gimmick award if she was in the WWE? What do I do with the illegitimate sister of Gold and Stardust? Should I take the same route where she’s soft at first but then becomes nastier as the story moves on? It’s a reasonable technique, but maybe I could tone down some of the nonsensical violence. Don’t get me wrong, she can still have weird quirks, but they’ll be PG-13 quirks. Makoto will be strange enough to make everyone around her uncomfortable, but peaceful enough to avoid being labeled a sociopath.

Now that I think about it, Makoto Lionheart is a female version of me! Oh, this could be something to cash in on for sure! Maybe she can blow her nose in public as loudly as an elephant. Maybe she can drink fake liquid cheese with bacon bits stirred in; a whole gallon, to be exact! Maybe she can get in an elevator with a lot of people and make it go to an entirely different floor than what everyone intended. And when she does the latter, she won’t say a word to the other passengers no matter how many times they try to engage her in conversation. If she did say something, it’d be like, “Well, I don’t have a chance at a five-way, so I might as well act as crazy as I want.” Now we’re talking! Hey, they wanted conversation, right?

Yes, Makoto Lionheart took a hard fall when it came to character unemployment. In fact, her presence alone might have been part of the reason why my friend at the time Sarah was too afraid to read The Macaroni & Ownage Project. Sarah even admitted to me that she was afraid of clowns. Never mind the disgusting antics of the rebel group, just the fact that they wear juggalo makeup is enough to creep this poor girl out. If such a movie script can creep out someone of sensitive psychology, imagine if it went up against an audience who was tough minded, which is hard to find these days, to be honest. Would they still be disgusted? Part of me says yes, which is why I’m going to be careful with Makoto’s character development in the future. Good call? I’d say so.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Because I was born this way. I got lightning running through my veins. Ain’t nobody gonna stop this train. So hop onboard or get out the way.”

-Thousand Foot Krutch singing “Born This Way”-

　

***POST-SCRIPT***

Is it wrong that I’m quoting a Christian metal band in a blog entry about sexually deviant clowns?