Dean P. Turnbloom's Blog, page 3

Amazing Amazon Author ranking…

I’ve climbed up on the Amazon Author’s ranking scale to #18,477…a dizzying height for me..

Okay, it’s a little fuzzy, but it’s me…(does that make me fuzzy?)

Short story published in Nth Degree …

I nearly forgot that I’ve recently had one of my earlier short stories published online in the Nth Degree Fiction magazine Issue #25…I do like the illustration they put with it!

The story is “Harcourt Manor” and is a sort of haunted house story. I hope you enjoy it.
Tagged: fiction, fright, ghost, haunt, haunted_house, horror, short story, short_stories, spook, stories

A story a week…

I’ve decided to shake the dust off some old stories and pieces of stories I’ve written and give them a fresh airing. What I hope to get out of this are useful comments, whether complimentary or not, that I can use to get better at the craft of writing. Feel free to critique and to criticize what you see here. I’ll begin with something I wrote a couple of years ago and put up on Amazon’s, and Barnes and Noble’s self-publishing platform. So this one is a complete work, though I’ve not touched it in quite some time.

 

THE BANSHEE OF THE RANNOCH MOOR

by Dean P. Turnbloom

 

I believe it was the Bard himself who wrote, “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” and I am here to tell you it’s a fact. The story I’m about to tell is true, I swear it by all that is holy, and all that is unholy for that matter, for this isn’t a tale for the faint of heart. Be warned, for if you hear the cry of the Banshee…but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
 Here, sit down, let me start from the beginning, so you can judge for yourself. I may not tell it well, but then who’s to say what’s worth the telling, eh? Sit. It’ll only take a little while. There, that’s better.

It happened quite a spell ago, not before the time I was born, you understand, but perhaps a good span of time before you. Anyway, I heard the story direct from one who would know it, you can be sure of that, and a more honest person you’d never want to meet. Wouldn’t tell a lie to save his soul, he wouldn’t. I can vouch for that.

Anyway, the way he tells it, Lonnie and Rachel McAnderson lived out on the Rannoch Moor, not far from Loch Rannoch. Rachel McAnderson was fair and beautiful, while her husband was coarse of manner and ill-tempered. In fact, it was said that he was a brute of a husband and Rachel grew most unhappy with her lot, so much so that she began spending more and more time at the little country church of St. Elban’s.

What started out as an earnest desire to find peace in her soul grew quickly into an affair of the heart between her and the church’s pastor, Reverend McBride. Rachel found the Reverend to be a sympathetic ear to her woes and the Reverend, who at first sought only to comfort the poor woman, soon fell in love with her, so beautiful and gentle were her ways.

Rachel, who’d married Lonnie McAnderson at an early age, had never known anyone as kind and loving as the Reverend, and it wasn’t long before she returned his love in kind. Rachel attended services religiously, if you’ll pardon the pun, in an effort to spend more time with the Reverend. She volunteered for any affair that would get her out of her house and to the Lord’s, collecting clothes for the poor, cleaning the church and rectory, providing religious instruction to the children. She was always the first to arrive and the last to leave and gained a reputation as a godly woman of the church.

She’d have gained a reputation of a very different sort, mind you, had the wags at that church seen what went on after she and the Reverend were alone. Once left to their own devices, the Rachel and the Reverend enjoyed each other’s company in a most unholy way, if you don’t mind me saying so. They made love right there in the church, God forgive them. And although the Reverend had long been a missionary, that wasn’t the only position he assumed, if you catch my drift. They frolicked together in the most diverse and varied fashion from one end of the church to the other. Not even the choir loft was safe from their doings. It was on those long buggy rides to and from the church that Rachel hatched a plan to set her free of her uncaring husband and let her fly to her lover’s arms for once and for all.

You see, old Lonnie was of a superstitious bent. Ne’er has he spilt a grain of salt that he didn’t chuck a pinch over his left shoulder, right into the eye of old Scratch himself. Rachel was very much aware of Lonnie’s superstitious nature and determined to make use of it.

Returning from church one rainy evening and entering the house, Rachel dropped her umbrella on the floor, just as Lonnie looked up from his paper. His eyes grew as large as saucers, for you see dropping an umbrella on the floor is a sure sign that there will soon be a death in the home.

“God, woman, take care with that umbrella,” he bellowed at Rachel.

“Lonnie, it’s only an old wives’ tale. If you are so superstitious as to believe that, I would have thought you’d have gotten rid of that broken clock on the wall there. Isn’t that a sign of bad luck?”

“Ah, well it might be, but that clock has been in the family for generations. I’d no sooner take it down than I’d sell this house!”

Rachel knew the umbrella hitting the floor had unnerved Lonnie, as he sat there fidgeting for a few minutes before unceremoniously announcing he was going up to bed. She remained downstairs for a time, until the sound of Lonnie’s snoring assured her it was safe to go to bed without having to perform any wifely duties—duties she now did willingly and often for the Reverend.

After she’d gone to bed, the house was dark only fifteen minutes when there was an eerie, wailing sound coming from out on the moor. Rachel heard it, but lie still as a board. When Lonnie heard it, though, he sat bolt upright in the bed.

“What is it, Lonnie,” Rachel asked.

“You hear that?” he asked, and just as he did the cry came again. It started out low, almost like the howl of a tomcat on the prowl, but grew louder as the pitch grew higher and then broke off into a terrifying laughter. “The banshee!” Lonnie proclaimed.

“Banshee?” asked Rachel. “What is a banshee?”

“Are you daft, woman? The banshee wails only when there’s soon to be a death.”

“Lonnie, surely you don’t believe that?” asked Rachel, surprised by her husband’s obvious trepidation.

“You’d believe it too, if you’d heard it before,” Lonnie replied, turning to face her in the darkness. “The banshee cried for a week like that before my father died.”

“It did? I…you never told me that before,” said Rachel, a tinge of sympathy softening her.

For the next three nights, at just about the same time of the evening when the house was dark, the mournful sound of the banshee could be heard wailing on the moor. Each night, old Lonnie sat bolt upright in his bed when he heard it, sweat dripping from his brow. On the fourth evening, a Friday, Lonnie could take it no longer. This evening, before retiring, Lonnie loaded his hunting rifle and left it by the umbrella rack just inside the front door.

When Rachel returned from her charity work at the church that night, Lonnie appeared particularly agitated. He barely spoke to Rachel before he trundled off to bed. Later, when she went to bed, she knew by not hearing him snore that he was lying there awake.

“Lonnie,” she said, “are you all right?”

“It ends tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if a banshee can be frightened away by God or gun, but tonight I’m going to find out. And if it’s me she’s after, by God she’ll have me!”

Just as he uttered those words, the wailing began. It appeared closer to the house than previously.

Lonnie, fully clothed and with his boots on, leapt out of bed, “Stay here, Rachel. One way or the other, I end this tonight!” With those words Lonnie raced down the stairs. He grabbed his rifle and bolted out the door just as the clock announced midnight.

Rachel barely had time to react. She followed him down the stairs, barefoot. By the time she reached the bottom, all she could see was the open door swinging on its hinges. The broken clock stood silent again, but its chimes were soon answered by gunshots. Once. Twice. Three times the rifle reported. Frightened and unnerved, she flew out the front door in the direction of the gunfire.

To this point I know the events occurred just as I’ve said, because they happened in my own presence, or most of them did. Of the rest I was later apprised by Lonnie himself. You see, I was there. The reverend had hired me to make the banshee cry on the moor by old Lonnie’s house. As choirmaster, I possessed quite a vocal range, and since I already knew of the Reverend’s dalliance with Rachel McAnderson—I sometimes sleep in the choir loft when I’ve had a bit too much to drink and from there I witnessed their unsaintly communion on more than one occasion—he thought engaging my services might silence my tongue as it were.

So there you have the sad tale of the Banshee of Rannoch Moor. Up to this point I can verify the veracity of what you’ve heard. What comes next is a wee bit stranger.

As I said, the events up to here occurred in my presence, but once old Lonnie fired his rifle, and I heard the pellet whiz past my ear, I ran as fast as the moor allowed back toward the church’s sanctuary. As I turned to run, I saw the light from Lonnie’s parlor break the darkness as Rachel burst through the door. Then I was gone. I heard Lonnie fire twice more in rapid succession as the distance between us grew. The rest of the story came from Lonnie’s own lips.

Rachel ran some distance from the house before she heard Lonnie’s voice call out, “Hallo!” She turned towards him and as she approached, she saw Lonnie bent down, between where she stood and the house, hovering over a shapeless form.

“Don’t come any closer, Rachel,” he warned.

“What…what is it, Lonnie?”

“It’s the Reverend McBride. I think he’s dead.”

“My God! Lonnie…you shot him?”

“Are you crazy, woman? Of course not. I was shooting at the banshee over yonder and I heard him call out. He must have lost his footing and fell. His head struck a rock.”

“But…” Rachel began, then she heard it—the low sound rising into a hideous laughter. Turning, she saw the form of a woman in a flowing gown, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. She stepped toward the figure. Suddenly terrified, she turned to run toward the house. But her bare feet were no match for the rocky path and just as she came upon where Lonnie still squatted, before she’d taken a dozen steps, she tripped. Her head struck the same stone as her lover killing her instantly, dying more or less in the Reverend’s arms.

That’s the way Lonnie tells it.

I know, some might think he killed them both, or if they believe the Reverend’s death was an accident, then he killed Rachel for carrying on with the Reverend.

But Lonnie never knew. I never told him. Too afraid I was. So he had no reason to kill anyone, save that banshee. You see, I pretended to be the banshee and I couldn’t tell Lonnie about the Reverend and his wife without telling him about my part. So, I kept quiet.

But that’s not the only reason I believe old Lonnie’s story of what happened once I was gone. You see, as I approached the church, I turned around to look back over the moor, half afraid old Lonnie had given chase. He was nowhere in sight, but on a small hill between the church and Lonnie’s I saw a silhouette. At first I thought it must have been Rachel, but then from across the moor I heard that God-awful sound of the devil’s own wicked laughter, just as Lonnie described.

Tagged: banshee, devil, fiction, ghosts, gothic, horror, moors, novels, Scottish, short_stories, short_story, supernatural, works

Those of us who remember 9/11/2001…

               

Those of us who remember 9/11/2001, those of us who remember the horror of watching the second plane crash into the World Trade Center (WTC) tower, those of us who later watched in horror as those symbols of American prosperity came crashing to the ground sending out thick, noxious clouds of pulverized cement—we want to thank the members of the CIA for all they’ve done since to keep America safe from further catastrophic attacks, including enhanced interrogation methods.

Politicians have convenient memories. Nancy Pelosi lied about being briefed on the enhanced interrogation methods. Diane Feinstein, who will today release an intelligence investigation into enhanced interrogation techniques, was the ranking Democratic member on the Intelligence committee at the time.

               

Today, in an effort to denigrate not only the CIA, but more importantly to denigrate the man whose presidential duty it was to protect America after that horrendous event, the Intelligence Committee will release a summary of their investigation, an investigation begun because of political hatred for George Bush and Dick Cheney. The timing is such that Diane Feinstein gets to make one last grandstanding play to aid the Democratic Party by casting the Republican Party in the dark light of evil before being ushered out as Committee Chairperson. But as you hear what’s contained in this report, take a look at the Islamic State and remember these are people of the same ilk as those who attacked the WTC. Then ask yourself if you wouldn’t water board a terrorist to prevent domination by such a creed.

Then read the article linked here. It’s written by the former head of the enhanced interrogation program. It might open your eyes, if they are still closed.

Tagged: 9/11, CIA, Democratic Party, Democrats, enhanced_interrogation, Feinstein, intelligence, interrogation, ISIS, New York, politics, Republicans, terror, torture, WTC

My Review of “The Elements of Eloquence” by Mark Forsyth

I recently reviewed Mark Forsyth’s wonderful new book at Goodreads. I decided to post it here as well.

The Elements of Eloquence


I read a good deal of books about writing, grammar, syntax, and the like, and was surprised that this book was not only informative, but cleverly put together and a delight to read. I don’t think it can be classified as an authoritative  text, and don’t believe the author meant it to be, but it was extremely informative concerning rhetorical elements of the English language as well as being quite funny. There were rhetorical elements with which we are all familiar, such as alliteration, but there were so many more that I’d never heard of but had a sense of, so much so that as I read I thought, ‘so, that’s what you call that’ particular structure. Mr. Forsyth has done an excellent job of taking a topic that by all rights should be abominably boring and made it not only interesting, but humorous as well. But beyond that, I believe it will become a reference book for my own writing, when I want to lend a certain amount of eloquence to a character.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/7532641-dean-turnbloom
Tagged: books, craft, English, grammar, novel, rhetoric, syntax, writing

Why immigration…why now?

Wiser men than I have pontificated on the implications of the President using his Executive Powers to jump-start immigration reform. Advocates say it’s about time, opponents say it’s overreach. So, one has to ask what’s really going on?


Why do they come?

President Obama has been in office now for six years, the first two he had his political party in majority in both houses of congress. If immigration had been a priority, he could have done something then. But he didn’t. He didn’t because the Affordable Care Act, dubbed Obamacare, took precedence. But it wasn’t signed into law until March of 2010, and by that time he had to worry about mid-term elections, so immigration had to wait—again.


Only in America

When the Republicans won a majority in the House of Representatives in the 2010 mid-terms, the President and Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid knew they would have to wait. In order to get an immigration bill through both houses of congress there would have to be assurances that the border security issue was addressed up front, and that is the last thing President Obama and the Democratic Party wants, a closed border.


Secure border fence

Their adamant opposition to a secure border doesn’t make sense from a purely defensive point of view. But defense is not the Democrats priority. Setting up a perpetually self-electing constituency is their first priority. (The opposition to a secure border was never clearer than in the recent Ebola Virus scare when the obviously prudent measure of restricting flights from afflicted countries, a measure taken up by a number of other countries including Australia, was rejected out of hand.)

A continual flow of poor Mexicans and Central Americans coming in to the United States is the key to the Democratic strategy. These people come to America looking for a better life—and they find it. Those who can work, do work and work hard for meager wages many times. This benefits their employers who can hire illegals to work for less and without the necessity to pay into the Social Security system in many cases. But many of these illegals may bring with them other things, like Tuberculosis, or the unspecified upper respiratory virus plaguing American children now.


Migrant workers

Those illegals who come here sick or become sick get free treatment. Their children go to our schools and get on the free lunch program. In California, if the parent of a child claims they are homeless, the school cannot even enforce vaccination for the children. They are admitted along with American children and are not screened for disease, are placed on the free lunch program and put into special classes for non-English speakers, all at the expense of the taxpayer. And who do they have to thank for all this laxity? Democratic politicians. The quid pro quo is their vote, illegal or if they do become citizens, then because they have relations who need the assistance, legal votes. This is the reason for opposition to Voter ID laws.

So now, with the last election he has to put up with over, the President, because he can’t get legislation to his liking passed in Congress, has decided to take the law—and the making of it—into his own hands, which answers the questions of why immigration and why now.

Tagged: border, Democratic Party, Democrats, Executive Powers, fence, illegals, immigration, immigration bill, immigration reform, obama, politics, President Obama, Republicans, security, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid

Is the American Voter Stupid?

With so much about President Obama, Obama-care, and Jonathan Gruber, and their apparent disregard for the American voter in the news lately, I felt I needed to weigh in.

Is the American Voter stupid, as many of the elite lawmakers and policymakers in Washington appear to believe? No. I don’t believe so. What I do believe is that the vast majority of Americans are not provided with the facts they need to make cogent decisions on policies being enacted in Washington, and I believe this is just how the policymakers want it.
There was a time when Americans could tune into one of the big three networks and get 30-60 minutes of the top news each evening. Cynics will say that back then it was just as slanted as it is today, but I don’t believe that to be true. Cynics will also say that there is no excuse for voters to be uninformed with all of the sources of news they have at their fingertips with the advent of the internet. I believe the sheer enormity of those sources is part of the problem.
In the fifties and sixties Americans would tune into their nightly broadcasts and watch their choice of newscasters tell them of the goings on in the world and the nation. In my home, it was the Huntley-Brinkley Report. I remember hearing the second movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and knowing the news was about to start. Perhaps the reporting was slanted one way or the other but if it was it was not so blatant that the viewer didn’t get at least of modicum of understanding of what the issues were and what was at stake. Also, the limited time allotted to the newscast was not taken up by so much of the vacuous nonsense that makes up today’s network broadcasts and editorial commentary was clearly labeled just that.
Regarding the idea that an uninformed voter is inexcusable in the information age that presupposes with the vast amounts of ‘information’ and opinion masquerading as information out there that the voter knows where to go to get unbiased reportage. The truth is there is very little out there that isn’t biased. I believe that the vast majority of Americans who want to be informed have abandoned the hallowed three networks in search of alternative sources. This has caused or at least exacerbated a polarization between those that have remained loyal to the networks and those that have fled.
Network loyalists, on the whole, are those not opposed to the unmitigated bias in reporting by the big three. Those that have abandoned the networks in search of a more balanced brand of news have in some cases fallen into the trap of ‘if it’s giving an opposing view, it must be unbiased’ when in fact they’ve only managed to find the other end of the spectrum.
All of this works counter to producing a well-informed voter. What is needed is not a return to the Cronkite and the Huntley-Brinkley Report, but a channel of information, much like provided in the California voter information guide, that presents both sides of issues in a reasoned approach and allows the voter to decide. Unfortunately, because the average American voter is more invested in feeding their family and raising their children than in understanding the intricacies of foreign and domestic policies, they don’t have the time required to read and digest everything from what’s going on in the Middle East to what’s going on in the local water district.
The American voter isn’t stupid, he and she are tired of Washington assuming too much and doing too little to make their lives more livable.
Tagged: deception, gruber, lies, media, news, obama, obamacare, politics, voter, voting

New video review for “Sherlock Holmes and the Body Snatchers”

Ross K Foad gives a review of the second novel in the Whitechapel Vampire trilogy.

Tagged: Holmes, novel, review, Sherlock, Sherlock_Holmes, Vampire, whitechapel, Whitechapel_Vampire

New Novel First Draft Complete…

Since “Sherlock Holmes and the Body Snatchers” came out last March, I’ve been diligently working on the last installment of the Whitechapel Vampire Trilogy, as yet unnamed, and have at last completed a rough first draft.

A few editorial notes about the trilogy. The first book, “Sherlock Holmes and the Whitechapel Vampire” was written entirely in third person point of view (POV) and I took my fair share of criticism for that as it was not in the Watson first person POV of most of the canon. That didn’t bother, though, as the original concept for the book wasn’t a Sherlock Holmes story, but was conceived as ‘what if Jack the Ripper were really a vampire’. Because of the time period involved, I worked Sherlock Holmes into the story, at first as an ancillary character. But I enjoyed writing the Holmes parts so much, I beefed up his role, which caused me to consider first person, but thought I’d wait.

The second book, ‘Body Snatchers’ was written in first person POV, but from varying characters. I thought it served the story and I was hesitant to attempt a full pastiche by having Watson’s POV be the only one in the book.

But now, in the third and final installment I’ve decided to go all out and write it as Doyle might have. The final book of the trilogy follows Watson throughout and will, I hope, give the reader more than a few surprises along the way. This final book takes place many years after the first two, which took place in 1888, first in London, and then New York. The action in the third takes place again in New York but in the year 1913, long after Holmes has retired to beekeeping in Sussex.

So, this trilogy has several arcs for the reader to follow. The story arc spans some twenty-five years, from 1888 to 1913, and each character in the story, I think, has his or her own arc of change. Finally, the writing itself has an arc from third person POV to multiple first person POV and finally to the first person POV used most often by Doyle, that of Watson. My hope is that aficionados of writing and of Sherlock Holmes will take note and enjoy the varied styles and mostly will enjoy the story from beginning to end.

Tagged: Author, book, books, Conan Doyle, jack_the_ripper, novel, publishing, sequel, Sherlock, Sherlock_Holmes, thriller, trilogy, Vampire, Watson, Whitechapel_Vampire, writing

News for the Week of June 2, 2014

dtbloom:

I ran across this blog and thought I’d like to post it, since I haven’t posted anything of my own in a while…

Originally posted on sherlockdeduced:

Sherlock Series 3 (plus more) comes to Netflix today

Rejoice Sherlock fans! If you’ve gone the months without seeing the third series since it last aired on television, today is your lucky day. Netflix will begin streaming series 3 episodes today along with some other exciting news. There will also be “bonus” Sherlock content related to series 3 available to you. I will be reviewing those bonus features that are exclusive to digital versions so you’ll be able to decide immediately if you want to watch instead of having to purchase a DVD.

Nominations all around

Let us never forget the Cumberbomb (

source

)

The Critics Choice Awards air on June 19th and odds are good that Sherlock or it’s stars will be walking away with some sort of award. In a twist of fate, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are going up against each other in the Best…

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