M.C. Hansen's Blog, page 2
November 8, 2019
Favorite Chapter & Excerpt
Posthuman was a fun book to write. Each chapter has something special about it, but Chapter 7 is my favorite. Here’s a short except, and if you like it you can get a Look Inside on Amazon (www.amazon.com/dp/B07WRL35FX) or pick up a copy and let me know which chapter is your favorite.
Pulling up short, the barefoot man looked down at Jessica curled up in the suitcase.
Feeling shame and humiliation burning in his cheeks, Matthew blurted out, "She's dead."
"Remarkable," the man whispered, almost reverently, never taking his eyes off Jessica.
Matthew cocked an eyebrow at that. That wasn't the response he expected. The guy must not have heard him right.
"No…she's dead."
Blinking, the beach bum shifted his gaze to Matthew as if he was just becoming aware of the boy's presence for the first time. He stared intently, and Matthew felt his guilt consume him.
"I…I tried to save her, I even did CPR, but it…it didn't work. She drowned."
"Yes, but what's she doing now?"
Matthew frowned, confused. Again, this was not the reply he expected.
The guy continued to stare; his searching eyes didn't seem to hope that Matthew knew the answer as much as accuse him of withholding information.
Like a broken record, Matthew babbled his initial statement, "She's…uh, she's not doing anything. She's dead…she died."
The calculating eyes softened and looked past Matthew, back into the suitcase.
"No, not dead, she's alive."
The guy spoke with such conviction that Matthew whirled around, half expecting to see Jessica standing up with her head cocked to one side, smiling her ever-present pixie smile. The blow of finding her still lying motionless completely deflated him. Absent was the slow rise and fall of her chest. She was still gone.
Duped, Matthew wanted to tell this butthead that he wasn't funny, maybe even to go to hell, when Jessica's nostrils flared.
Matthew blinked.
He waited for the movement again, but it didn't come. What did come was a memory of something his lifesaving teacher had once told him. Matthew couldn't remember the medical term, but his instructor had said that when a person drowns, their throat constricts when water enters the airway. This shuts off the lungs to protect the victim, resulting in a loss of consciousness. A small portion of people still died even after being rescued because the sealed lungs wouldn't reopen; however, some people began to breathe spontaneously once the muscles relax.
In his grief, Matthew hadn't checked for a pulse or airflow. He did so now.
Dropping to his knees, he felt Jess' wrist. He'd never been good at this part and didn't feel a pulse now. Giving up, he put his cheek close to her mouth and nose and tried to feel any expelled air.
The slightest of breezes caressed his face. Matthew's heartbeat quickened, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't just the wind.
He waited, but he didn't feel the breeze repeat.
In desperation, he turned Jessica onto her back and placed his ear to her chest. He couldn't make out a second independent rhythm over his own thudding heartbeat.
"I…I just can't tell," stammered Matthew, flopping to the ground.
"I can," replied the beach bum, scowling as if the knowledge brought discomfort.
Kneeling, the guy used a hand to push Matthew away, clearing a space around him. Matthew shuddered at the contact. The touch had been mild, but it left him feeling grimy - the kind of grimy he'd felt once when he'd stolen a piece of candy from a grocery store.
Of his own accord, Matthew moved further away from the dark-haired man who hunched over Jess. As if testing her temperature, the guy placed his hand on her forehead.
She squirmed! It was quick, but she'd definitely moved.
"Did you see that!?" Matthew said, leaning forward and hovering over the barefoot man like a mother over a paramedic's shoulder.
"I didn't suspect this, not at all. You caught me completely off guard; you didn't figure into any of my contingencies."
Matthew was about to ask what the guy meant when he realized he wasn't the one being spoken to.
"You're quite the sly one," said the guy, still addressing Jessica. "You must have known right away, sensed me somehow. Well, that works both ways, and you were right to hide, but enough of this foolishness. Come forth!"
Upon the command, the guy wrenched back his hand, hissing as if burned, and indeed, Matthew thought he detected the faint odor of burnt flesh.
Jessica's eyes popped open.
They focused on the man above her and bore into the peculiar savior with a death glare. In the same instance, she spoke slowly and denunciatory, "Bad man."
Smirking and holding his hand, the guy took a few steps back. "Cute."
Matthew rushed over to his sister. She continued to eye her reviver even while he hugged her.
"See, not dead," said the man. Then added, "Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. But never mind that. All's well that ends well, or so the saying goes. Now, let me introduce myself. My name is Shane—"
"Liar," Jess cut him off.
Matthew was taken aback. Never had he heard his sister talk so confidently or so boldly to an adult, to anyone.
"Yes, that may be."
"Usurper!" she spat, and instead of being offended at the accusation, the man's smile widened.
"Hopefully, but for now, you can call me Shane."
Matthew tried to calm his seething sister. He didn't understand why she was so upset.
"It's alright, Jess. This guy…uh, Shane, he's here to help us."
However, immediately after speaking those words, Matthew wasn't so sure.
"You should listen to your brother Jessica, he's right, I am here to help. It's a changed world out there. Different from anything you've ever seen or known. You need to be careful. Be extra wary of strangers. Don't trust anyone, because everyone you meet will be jealous of what you've become. They'll try to use you, even hurt you. So stay away." The man paused for emphasis, "Especially from me."
The last was said with such repressed violence that Shane's teeth clacked together, and his eyes seemed to flash.
Had they always been purple?
Matthew was surprised that he hadn't noticed the intense coloring before. He'd looked right into those eyes. Suddenly, he felt like he was seeing the beach bum for the first time. The clothing hadn't changed. Shane's face was still inviting and charming, still held a supernatural quality, but now it had soured. For Matthew, it inspired the power felt on those rare occasions when he dropped the F-bomb or when he belittled someone to make himself feel better, a feeling that never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
Also, Matthew now noticed the tattoos. Had they always been there? Rosy ink markings, like religious hieroglyphs, covered Shane's chest where his shirt was open at the throat and along his muscular arms down to the wrists.
"You can't surpass me," continued Shane, apparently not done helping. "It will never happen, so don't try. If you do, if you try and approach my level, you'll be just like Icarus - the closer you fly to the sun, the faster you'll burn. It's better to stay in my shadow. Better yet, keep away entirely. Because if you get too close, get any crazy notions of standing in my way, I'll destroy you. I'll tear you apart and devour you, piece by piece. Got it?"
Matthew nodded.
Even Jess dumbly bobbed her head.
Gone was her spit-fire attitude; she was scared. They both were.
"I doubt you do. You have eyes, but you do not see; ears, but you do not hear; you understand naught but fear."
Shane leaned towards the cowering pair, and terror filled their youthful faces.
"Perhaps that is enough. Yes…" Standing erect, he placed a hand on both Matthew and Jessica's heads.
Light shunned this man, bent away from him, but darkness seemed his lover; it surrounded him, shrouded him in a cloak of evil, and when he touched their heads, a transfer of that vile shadow oozed over them. A physical sickness of body, heart, and soul cried out against such corruptness, but Shane held fast.
"Fear me. This is my gospel, my blessing."
Fingers dug painfully into Matthew's head. Jess whimpered.
"Obey me, for inasmuch as ye keep my commandments, ye shall live."
Matthew tried to pry the hand from his skull as fingernails punctured flesh.
"Fear me. This is my will, my endowment."
Talons of impossible strength and sharpness threatened to crush bone and brain. Jessica cried in earnest.
"Because ye feared, ye are my disciples; the first of my flock. If there be others, teach them my word, for in the heart of fear the seeds of insurrection and subversion can never grow."
The vice grip grew stronger, inhumanly strong.
"Go forth in fear. Remember, always fear. Fear be with you."
The pressure and pain was too intense. Matthew went wild. Gone was any rational effort to remove Shane's hand; instead, he clawed and scraped and plucked at the fingers, hoping to break one. Break one, then another; break them all until he was free.
Matthew yelled, begged, pleaded for Shane to stop, to let go, but he didn't relent - only squeezed tighter.
Hands shaking, heads rattling and on the verge of popping like eggshells - Jessica screamed, loud and shrill and piercing.
It was an unearthly sound and acted like a crowbar, tearing Shane's clasp away. Fingers peeled off with the resistance of soldered iron, but Jessica's continued shriek was so powerful as to cause a concussion in the air, staggering the false messiah backwards.
Matthew used the brief freedom to run.
Grabbing Jessica's hand, they made a hasty escape. Looking back over his shoulder, Matthew stopped.
Shane was no longer behind them. As quickly as he'd appeared, he'd vanished. Only the empty suitcase remained.
Not waiting to find out where he'd gone, Matthew led his sister towards town. The guy had been nuts - a homeless wacko. However, once back among the main streets, Matthew saw that there was truth in what he'd been told.
Decoy was different.
November 3, 2019
Born in a car
One of my favorite stories is where I'm from.
I was born in Chicago...in a car. And it wasn't even our car; it was our neighbor's. Brand new. Only two days old...my mom and I really broke it in for them ;)
I'm also named after the car - a Corolla. That's were my middle name comes from.
Perfect ice breaker.
I was born in Chicago...in a car. And it wasn't even our car; it was our neighbor's. Brand new. Only two days old...my mom and I really broke it in for them ;)
I'm also named after the car - a Corolla. That's were my middle name comes from.
Perfect ice breaker.
October 30, 2019
October 27, 2019
TOP 5 BOOKS THAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE
While there are plenty of books I admire, respect and am down right in awe of, here are five that as a youth blew me away and planted in me a desire to become a storyteller.
#5 Jurassic Park
I had bed sheets with dinosaurs on them, birthday cakes with dinosaurs on them, and dinosaur with dinosaurs on them, so of course a book about a dinosaur park that goes awry WAY captured my imagination - along with the entire world. I also count seeing the original JP Steven Spielberg trailer as one of my favorite memories. Full on goosebumps for a week. I saw that movie at least a dozen times in theaters. It's also one of the movies that influenced my filmmaking pursuits. Double whammy!
#4 The Gunslinger
In the early 90's when I started reading The Dark Tower series there were only three books! Talk about a cliff hanger. It was years of waiting between volumes, but The Gunslinger introduced me to Mr. King and at one point I thought there would be nothing cooler than to have my own bird skull necklace, like Rolland's friend Cuthbert Allgood. So with boyish enthusiasm I dug up a recently deceased pet rabbit to make my own skull pendant. What I discovered my prudent mother had thrown away ol' Blacky as his decomposing body was stinking up the back yard, and along with him went my dream of being a gunslinger with a rabbit skull necklace :(
#3 Pillars of the Earth
I always though this book would make a great movie, then they made one and it was terrible. But the book is still amazing. Medieval times, check. Adventures, count me in. Building a cathedral...er, yawn? But man what an epic piece. I think I read this when I was like 12 or 13 and yikes there were some racy scenes. As an adult I've reread this book and I thought, what was I so hot and bothered about as a kid? Guess it was the hormones.
#2 Faerie Tale
Raymond E. Feist was my jam as a tween. His Riftwar anthology made me want to write fantasy. Hands down. I was going to write fantasy. No question. Somewhere in a box of my old stuff, I have fifty pages of an unfinished fantasy trilogy (which was a lot for a ten year old) and a meticulously detailed world map. But it was Faerie Tale, a modern day story with a fantasy backdrop, that introduced me to the notion that I might write something other than fantasy. Which turned out to be the case.
#1 Sole Survivor
If there is an author that inspired me to write it's Mr. Dean Koontz; and if there is a book that most directly inspired me to write my first book, it's Sole Survivor. While a lot of Koontz's early work takes on many points of view, Sole Survivor had one fixed perspective which revealed element after element in a satisfying and suspenseful mystery that captivated me. I loved the big ideas that underlined the plot and the poetic prose. When I was a freshman in college I had the opportunity to be in a chat room (yeah that used to be a thing) with Mr. Koontz while he was promoting his most recent book and I asked him what advice he'd give on becoming a successful author. He laughed and said there was no way he could list everything in that short format and with the time limitations. But he did give a few tips and while I don't think I have the writing prowess of Mr. Koontz, I do think I was able to impart a tiny bit of that advice in my book, Posthuman,
(www.amazon.com/dp/B07WRL35FX) and make it a pretty good read. Cheers!
#5 Jurassic Park
I had bed sheets with dinosaurs on them, birthday cakes with dinosaurs on them, and dinosaur with dinosaurs on them, so of course a book about a dinosaur park that goes awry WAY captured my imagination - along with the entire world. I also count seeing the original JP Steven Spielberg trailer as one of my favorite memories. Full on goosebumps for a week. I saw that movie at least a dozen times in theaters. It's also one of the movies that influenced my filmmaking pursuits. Double whammy!
#4 The Gunslinger
In the early 90's when I started reading The Dark Tower series there were only three books! Talk about a cliff hanger. It was years of waiting between volumes, but The Gunslinger introduced me to Mr. King and at one point I thought there would be nothing cooler than to have my own bird skull necklace, like Rolland's friend Cuthbert Allgood. So with boyish enthusiasm I dug up a recently deceased pet rabbit to make my own skull pendant. What I discovered my prudent mother had thrown away ol' Blacky as his decomposing body was stinking up the back yard, and along with him went my dream of being a gunslinger with a rabbit skull necklace :(
#3 Pillars of the Earth
I always though this book would make a great movie, then they made one and it was terrible. But the book is still amazing. Medieval times, check. Adventures, count me in. Building a cathedral...er, yawn? But man what an epic piece. I think I read this when I was like 12 or 13 and yikes there were some racy scenes. As an adult I've reread this book and I thought, what was I so hot and bothered about as a kid? Guess it was the hormones.
#2 Faerie Tale
Raymond E. Feist was my jam as a tween. His Riftwar anthology made me want to write fantasy. Hands down. I was going to write fantasy. No question. Somewhere in a box of my old stuff, I have fifty pages of an unfinished fantasy trilogy (which was a lot for a ten year old) and a meticulously detailed world map. But it was Faerie Tale, a modern day story with a fantasy backdrop, that introduced me to the notion that I might write something other than fantasy. Which turned out to be the case.
#1 Sole Survivor
If there is an author that inspired me to write it's Mr. Dean Koontz; and if there is a book that most directly inspired me to write my first book, it's Sole Survivor. While a lot of Koontz's early work takes on many points of view, Sole Survivor had one fixed perspective which revealed element after element in a satisfying and suspenseful mystery that captivated me. I loved the big ideas that underlined the plot and the poetic prose. When I was a freshman in college I had the opportunity to be in a chat room (yeah that used to be a thing) with Mr. Koontz while he was promoting his most recent book and I asked him what advice he'd give on becoming a successful author. He laughed and said there was no way he could list everything in that short format and with the time limitations. But he did give a few tips and while I don't think I have the writing prowess of Mr. Koontz, I do think I was able to impart a tiny bit of that advice in my book, Posthuman,
(www.amazon.com/dp/B07WRL35FX) and make it a pretty good read. Cheers!
October 23, 2019
Congratulation Winners!
Thank you everyone who entered the giveaway for Posthuman.
It was great to see so much interest. For the five lucky winners the books are in the mail and you will be receiving them shortly. For everyone else, I hope you pick up a copy and let me know what you think.
Cheers!
M.C. Hansen
It was great to see so much interest. For the five lucky winners the books are in the mail and you will be receiving them shortly. For everyone else, I hope you pick up a copy and let me know what you think.
Cheers!
M.C. Hansen
