Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 14
March 27, 2023
book review: Slow Dancing On Dinosaur Bones, by Lana Witt
Tom Jett, with his freshly minted college degree in philosophy, wanders from California across the country, looking for the right mountain range for ... he's not sure what. When his Toyota breaks down in the little town of Pick in southeast Kentucky, Tom figures this must be it, whatever it is.
Unfortunately, Tom arrives just as a corporation starts buying up local properties for a mining operation. He's put up in an old hillside cabin by local mechanic/blues artist Gilman Lee, who asks Tom to watch for signs the corporation is auguring coal from under his property. In short order Tom spots Gemma Collet, her skin milky white due to a medical condition, bathing naked in a nearby creek. Not long after, former resident Rosalie Wilson, Gilman's lost love, arrives from Florida, on the run from her rich, charming, homicidal lover.
Yes, it's a long book.
https://www.amazon.com/SLOW-DANCING-D...
It's a little hard to describe the plot of Slow Dancing On Dinosaur Bones--in that way it's something of a literary novel, right up to an ending that's sudden and seems pointless, if inevitable. Gilman Lee is really the main protagonist, and the main fight is against an uncaring coal company that may not own his property, but does own the mineral rights. But things get complicated, quickly, and we're treated to numerous points of view as the characters go about their lives in ways that, often without realizing it, have great effect on others.
You should know that the book came out in 1996, although that doesn't really matter other than the lack of technology that may have made things a bit easier for everyone. Lana Witt has written a sequel of sorts, called The Heart of a Thirsty Woman, which at least in the beginning takes place in Pick. To give you an idea of my thoughts on the first book, I'll be tracking down the second for a read.
My family comes from that area of Kentucky--it was fun to recognize various towns and places mentioned. Lana Witt surely also comes from down there, because she has not only the locations and terrain down, but also the people. Good and bad. She also knows how to pick up the threads of a story and weave them together into a fascinating tale.
My only complaint about Slow Dancing On Dinosaur Bones is my pet peeve: The characters do things that often go against their own best interest, for absolutely no good reason, when a dab of common sense would solve their problems. In other words, the people of Pick are sometimes so much like real people it makes you wince. It's fascinating and a great read, but don't expect escapism.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Unfortunately, Tom arrives just as a corporation starts buying up local properties for a mining operation. He's put up in an old hillside cabin by local mechanic/blues artist Gilman Lee, who asks Tom to watch for signs the corporation is auguring coal from under his property. In short order Tom spots Gemma Collet, her skin milky white due to a medical condition, bathing naked in a nearby creek. Not long after, former resident Rosalie Wilson, Gilman's lost love, arrives from Florida, on the run from her rich, charming, homicidal lover.
Yes, it's a long book.
https://www.amazon.com/SLOW-DANCING-D...
It's a little hard to describe the plot of Slow Dancing On Dinosaur Bones--in that way it's something of a literary novel, right up to an ending that's sudden and seems pointless, if inevitable. Gilman Lee is really the main protagonist, and the main fight is against an uncaring coal company that may not own his property, but does own the mineral rights. But things get complicated, quickly, and we're treated to numerous points of view as the characters go about their lives in ways that, often without realizing it, have great effect on others.
You should know that the book came out in 1996, although that doesn't really matter other than the lack of technology that may have made things a bit easier for everyone. Lana Witt has written a sequel of sorts, called The Heart of a Thirsty Woman, which at least in the beginning takes place in Pick. To give you an idea of my thoughts on the first book, I'll be tracking down the second for a read.
My family comes from that area of Kentucky--it was fun to recognize various towns and places mentioned. Lana Witt surely also comes from down there, because she has not only the locations and terrain down, but also the people. Good and bad. She also knows how to pick up the threads of a story and weave them together into a fascinating tale.
My only complaint about Slow Dancing On Dinosaur Bones is my pet peeve: The characters do things that often go against their own best interest, for absolutely no good reason, when a dab of common sense would solve their problems. In other words, the people of Pick are sometimes so much like real people it makes you wince. It's fascinating and a great read, but don't expect escapism.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 22, 2023
All At Once, My Movie Won Everything, Everywhere
I never watch the Oscars, even with the promise of celebrities getting slapped. It's supposed to be about awarding people for their entertainment talent. That's great, but those people have concluded that being able to put on a show makes them experts in politics and world affairs, when all it really shows is that they can lie well enough to inspire awe.
Come to think of it, maybe they do understand politics.
But if I want to hear a political speech ... well, I don't. I follow politics because it's important, but it's not where I go for entertainment: I don't care for tragedies.
The truth is, when I watch a movie I just want to have fun. Most of the motion pictures that get nominations for the Oscars are the movie equivalent of literary novels: They may be well made, but their ultimate purpose is to make the viewer feel depressed and hopeless.
Or so I thought.
When my wife and I saw the first trailer for "Everything Everywhere All At Once", I turned to her and said, "We HAVE to see that", and she readily agreed. That should have been the kiss of death for the movie's Oscar chances. If I think a show looks that good, the Academy will surely hate it.
I mean, "EEAAO" is a martial arts science fiction/fantasy/comedy featuring alternate dimensions. It's the perfect kind of flick for me, but it's not Oscar material. Come on. Sex devices are used in a fight scene for their intended purpose. One of the characters experiences a world where everyone has hot dog fingers.
Not an Oscar movie.
When I started hearing talk on social media, I finally checked, and yes--of all the movies I saw last year, my favorite one won the Best Picture statue. Not only that, but the stage was clean when it was done sweeping.
Granted, I didn't see that many movies last year. I can't say whether it deserved the awards or not: Of the ten nominated movies, it's the only one we got around to seeing. There were only two others I was interested in--I didn't even know they did another remake of "All Quiet On the Western Front".
Still, the win for "EEAAO" gives me hope that maybe the highfalutin crowd in Hollyweird have finally figured out a movie can be both excellent and fun. Maybe I'll actually want to watch the Oscars next year.
But I doubt it.
I guess my favorite movies are like my books: Fun drive-in type entertainment with a happy ending.
(Remember: Every time you don't buy a book Michelle Yeoh beats up Chuck Norris. You know she can, so spare him the embarrassment.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Come to think of it, maybe they do understand politics.
But if I want to hear a political speech ... well, I don't. I follow politics because it's important, but it's not where I go for entertainment: I don't care for tragedies.
The truth is, when I watch a movie I just want to have fun. Most of the motion pictures that get nominations for the Oscars are the movie equivalent of literary novels: They may be well made, but their ultimate purpose is to make the viewer feel depressed and hopeless.
Or so I thought.
When my wife and I saw the first trailer for "Everything Everywhere All At Once", I turned to her and said, "We HAVE to see that", and she readily agreed. That should have been the kiss of death for the movie's Oscar chances. If I think a show looks that good, the Academy will surely hate it.
I mean, "EEAAO" is a martial arts science fiction/fantasy/comedy featuring alternate dimensions. It's the perfect kind of flick for me, but it's not Oscar material. Come on. Sex devices are used in a fight scene for their intended purpose. One of the characters experiences a world where everyone has hot dog fingers.
Not an Oscar movie.
When I started hearing talk on social media, I finally checked, and yes--of all the movies I saw last year, my favorite one won the Best Picture statue. Not only that, but the stage was clean when it was done sweeping.
Granted, I didn't see that many movies last year. I can't say whether it deserved the awards or not: Of the ten nominated movies, it's the only one we got around to seeing. There were only two others I was interested in--I didn't even know they did another remake of "All Quiet On the Western Front".
Still, the win for "EEAAO" gives me hope that maybe the highfalutin crowd in Hollyweird have finally figured out a movie can be both excellent and fun. Maybe I'll actually want to watch the Oscars next year.
But I doubt it.
I guess my favorite movies are like my books: Fun drive-in type entertainment with a happy ending.
(Remember: Every time you don't buy a book Michelle Yeoh beats up Chuck Norris. You know she can, so spare him the embarrassment.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 19, 2023
Hoosier Hysterical is hysterical ... and About Hoosiers
It's selling the soap time!
History can be funny, even if it makes history teachers roll over in their graves (hopefully not while they’re still alive). Mark and Emily Hunter tour Indiana in an off-the-wall, Indy 500-style race though the past, from Paleo-Indians through the Northwest Territory, to the gas in Gas City.
http://www.markrhunter.com/HoosierHys...
Along the way we encounter killers, heroes, trivia, claims to fame, and of course, Johnny Appleseed. It’s as American as sugar cream pie—Indiana’s state pie, thanks to the efforts of a hard-working state General Assembly. So sit back and have some fun … and if you accidentally learn something along the way, at least it will be painless.
Yes, you can still order our books in all the regular places:
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
History can be funny, even if it makes history teachers roll over in their graves (hopefully not while they’re still alive). Mark and Emily Hunter tour Indiana in an off-the-wall, Indy 500-style race though the past, from Paleo-Indians through the Northwest Territory, to the gas in Gas City.
http://www.markrhunter.com/HoosierHys...
Along the way we encounter killers, heroes, trivia, claims to fame, and of course, Johnny Appleseed. It’s as American as sugar cream pie—Indiana’s state pie, thanks to the efforts of a hard-working state General Assembly. So sit back and have some fun … and if you accidentally learn something along the way, at least it will be painless.
Yes, you can still order our books in all the regular places:
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 17, 2023
That Winter Driving Thing Again
(It's possible I was a little irate when I wrote this. Also, I'm hopeful the snowy weather is over for the season, but not convinced.)
I contend that DWS (Driving While Stupid) should be a death penalty offense.
Of course, DWS isn't illegal to begin with, but we have to start somewhere.
Look, I’ve done foolish things while driving. I once backed an ambulance into a mailbox--and yeah, it was snowing, but it wasn't the snow's fault. I slid over a stop sign with a police office standing ten feet away. Snow was an accomplice in that case. I took a 1976 Pontiac Ventura off-road four wheeling – and no, Venturas were not FWD.
My youth may have been a reason, but not an excuse. I’ve slowed down, but others haven’t. Worse, the people who cause the mayhem often walk away uninjured, whining about how traumatized they are from the experience.
“It was horrible, all the kids in the back of my pickup flying through the air, and the nun’s body knocked out my tire alignment -- *sob* -- I almost lost my grip on my beer. Luckily I had my cell phone in my other hand, so I was able to call 911.”
Sometimes–not always – drivers of big vehicles are most reckless. Why? Well, drivers of small cars are scared stiff. You think I’m going to tailgate a truck that has a spring loaded bumper aimed at my nose, and a “Honk if You Love Guns” bumper sticker? I don’t think so.
Second, many drivers of large vehicles thumb their noses at Mother Nature. “What’s a little freezing rain? I’ve got four wheel drive!” It’s fun to play the game where you’re passed by an SUV, then get to point and laugh at him when he lands in the ditch two miles on.
It’s the definition of False Sense of Security. Yes, maybe you and your truck will get through your 65 mph trip in blinding snow without incident. Angels watch over the foolish. Or maybe the next time will be the one when you’ll end up parked in somebody’s living room, with a Toyota under you that can now qualify as a throw rug.
Here’s a wild idea: Slow your ass down. A five thousand pound block of metal, at a speed that would terrify an Indy 500 racer of 75 years ago, is not under your control, even in the best weather conditions. Add to that rain, deer, and other idiot drivers, and you’ve got a recipe for bloody mayhem.
“That won’t happen to me,” you say. You’re a moron. Nobody’s last words were, “I have a feeling I’m going to get into a bad accident today.”
Let’s break it down.
There are excellent drivers capable of maintaining control at warp 5, but they don’t live around here. If they did, they’d have died with a deer in their laps a long time ago. If you’re running late during a snowstorm and get behind a silver haired lady driving 35 mph, you have nobody to blame but yourself for not leaving on time.
Seat belts. They keep you from getting your head run over when you’re thrown out of your rolling SUV because you tried to pass that silver haired lady in a snow storm. Living is cool.
Carry a set of scales, and weigh yourself before getting into the car. If you’re not on the edge of starvation, wait until you get home to eat.
A lot of people try to excuse their accidents by saying they were “blinded by –“ fill in the blank. The sun, oncoming headlights, a brilliant idea, whatever.
We don’t let blind people drive. It’s what used to be called common sense, before attorneys had it banned. So if you’re behind the wheel and something blinds you – STOP DRIVING. Are you worried somebody behind you will be mad because you hit the brakes and pulled over? Fine – let them be mad at your very alive self.
They’re probably driving a four wheel drive, anyway.
(Remember, whenever you buy one of our books I can get gloves, and keep my fingers warm enough to write another one.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
I contend that DWS (Driving While Stupid) should be a death penalty offense.
Of course, DWS isn't illegal to begin with, but we have to start somewhere.
Look, I’ve done foolish things while driving. I once backed an ambulance into a mailbox--and yeah, it was snowing, but it wasn't the snow's fault. I slid over a stop sign with a police office standing ten feet away. Snow was an accomplice in that case. I took a 1976 Pontiac Ventura off-road four wheeling – and no, Venturas were not FWD.
My youth may have been a reason, but not an excuse. I’ve slowed down, but others haven’t. Worse, the people who cause the mayhem often walk away uninjured, whining about how traumatized they are from the experience.
“It was horrible, all the kids in the back of my pickup flying through the air, and the nun’s body knocked out my tire alignment -- *sob* -- I almost lost my grip on my beer. Luckily I had my cell phone in my other hand, so I was able to call 911.”
Sometimes–not always – drivers of big vehicles are most reckless. Why? Well, drivers of small cars are scared stiff. You think I’m going to tailgate a truck that has a spring loaded bumper aimed at my nose, and a “Honk if You Love Guns” bumper sticker? I don’t think so.
Second, many drivers of large vehicles thumb their noses at Mother Nature. “What’s a little freezing rain? I’ve got four wheel drive!” It’s fun to play the game where you’re passed by an SUV, then get to point and laugh at him when he lands in the ditch two miles on.
It’s the definition of False Sense of Security. Yes, maybe you and your truck will get through your 65 mph trip in blinding snow without incident. Angels watch over the foolish. Or maybe the next time will be the one when you’ll end up parked in somebody’s living room, with a Toyota under you that can now qualify as a throw rug.
Here’s a wild idea: Slow your ass down. A five thousand pound block of metal, at a speed that would terrify an Indy 500 racer of 75 years ago, is not under your control, even in the best weather conditions. Add to that rain, deer, and other idiot drivers, and you’ve got a recipe for bloody mayhem.
“That won’t happen to me,” you say. You’re a moron. Nobody’s last words were, “I have a feeling I’m going to get into a bad accident today.”
Let’s break it down.
There are excellent drivers capable of maintaining control at warp 5, but they don’t live around here. If they did, they’d have died with a deer in their laps a long time ago. If you’re running late during a snowstorm and get behind a silver haired lady driving 35 mph, you have nobody to blame but yourself for not leaving on time.
Seat belts. They keep you from getting your head run over when you’re thrown out of your rolling SUV because you tried to pass that silver haired lady in a snow storm. Living is cool.
Carry a set of scales, and weigh yourself before getting into the car. If you’re not on the edge of starvation, wait until you get home to eat.
A lot of people try to excuse their accidents by saying they were “blinded by –“ fill in the blank. The sun, oncoming headlights, a brilliant idea, whatever.
We don’t let blind people drive. It’s what used to be called common sense, before attorneys had it banned. So if you’re behind the wheel and something blinds you – STOP DRIVING. Are you worried somebody behind you will be mad because you hit the brakes and pulled over? Fine – let them be mad at your very alive self.
They’re probably driving a four wheel drive, anyway.
(Remember, whenever you buy one of our books I can get gloves, and keep my fingers warm enough to write another one.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 13, 2023
Casting For the Pod You Love
I listen to a fair amount of podcasts, which is interesting considering ten years ago I didn't know what a podcast was.
About that long ago Emily bought me my first iPod, to listen to music while walking or doing chores.
It was called an iPod Shuffle and it still works, despite being over two hundred in electronics years. But it sits in a desk drawer, because although you can play music in order or shuffle it at random, there's no way to better pick what to listen to, in what order. That became a big deal when I started with podcasts, basically radio shows you can download off the internet. Since I have an eclectic list of interests, I wanted to be able to pick the order.
So for my birthday several years ago Emily bought me an updated model. It gives you much better control of the what and when, plus you can load it with photos and videos and other stuff, something I've never done. Although the battery is fading, it still works.
But now I mostly listen to podcasts on my phone, because why carry two devices when you can carry one?
There's a danger in running your brain 24/7; sometimes you need to stop the input and let it rest a little. Just the same, I've found listening to something makes chores like lawn mowing go faster, and helps out when I walk or run. Oh, who am I kidding? Walk.
So, what kind of podcasts do I listen to? I thought you'd never ask.
There's something called podcast fade, and some of the ones I used to like have faded away in time. But plenty others are still going strong, and most of my favorites--of course--involved writing:
I Should be Writing is by SF author Mur Lafferty, and is aimed more at beginning writers. Lafferty shares her own struggles with writing and publishing, not to mention depression and other related challenges.
Ditch Diggers: Lafferty is joined by author Matt Wallace for a more advanced writing podcast, which covers more of the business end of the industry. As their theme song says, they pull no punches.
Writing Excuses: It's fifteen minutes long, because "You're in a hurry, and we're not that smart". A group of authors goes over every aspect of writing. Sometimes they spend too much time on the politically correct for my taste, but it's not a bad thing to hear what people have to say on various issues.
Shipping and Handling: Two literary agents sip wine and discuss their industry and their jobs. Sometimes they spend too much time on national politics, but otherwise it's a great look into the minds of agents and how the business works from their end.
The Writer's Digest Podcast They don't seem to be podcasting anymore, and neither does Harlequin: Meet the Editors, but you might still be able to glean interesting tidbits from their older shows.
Smart Author with Mark Coker: This one's about book marketing and self publishing, which isn't surprising when you realize Coker is the founder of self-publishing powerhouse Smashwords.
Of course, there's more to life than writing, although you wouldn't think that to talk to me.
ID10T with Chris Hardwick is a talk show with uber geek Hardwick, who has far ranging conversations with, well, everybody--actors, authors, comedians, singers, you name it. One of my favorites was Max Brooks, author and son of the legendary Mel Brooks, who's just as fast on his feet as his dad. I don't spend a lot of time on pop culture, but Hardwick seems to be a genuinely nice guy and a joy to listen to.
Nutty Bites: My first podcast experience was with my friend Tabz of Strangely Literal, and she led me to Nutty and her husband Tech, and don't Canadadians have strange first names? You boot, they do. Nutty holds fourth with her friends on various nerd subjects, and this is where I go when I just want to have fun.
Planetary Radio: I love space stuff. This, the podcast of the not for profit Planetary Society, looks into the tech, politics, and science of space exploration, very much one of my earliest interests.
The History Chicks: Two ladies talk about history--specifically, women of history. I love history, and women ain't too bad either. Sometimes they're surprisingly squeamish about how things were done back in the day, but they don't pull any punches--and by the time they're done, you'll be squeamish about the good old days, too. But you can learn a lot in a fun way, about women ranging from Queens of England, to a Chinese pirate (yes, female), to authors, inventors, and murderers. You probably won't be surprised about how seldom the ladies get the historical credit they earned.
The Bladtcast: Christian Bladt was Dennis Miller's sidekick on Miller's podcast, and when Bladt started one of his own I moved over there with him. Not literally. He and his cast of friends basically nerd out (often obscenely) about various fandoms ranging from movies and comics to sports, and it's another one I listen to for the fun of it.
How about you all? Any favorite podcasts to recommend? There are a million of them out there.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
About that long ago Emily bought me my first iPod, to listen to music while walking or doing chores.
It was called an iPod Shuffle and it still works, despite being over two hundred in electronics years. But it sits in a desk drawer, because although you can play music in order or shuffle it at random, there's no way to better pick what to listen to, in what order. That became a big deal when I started with podcasts, basically radio shows you can download off the internet. Since I have an eclectic list of interests, I wanted to be able to pick the order.
So for my birthday several years ago Emily bought me an updated model. It gives you much better control of the what and when, plus you can load it with photos and videos and other stuff, something I've never done. Although the battery is fading, it still works.
But now I mostly listen to podcasts on my phone, because why carry two devices when you can carry one?
There's a danger in running your brain 24/7; sometimes you need to stop the input and let it rest a little. Just the same, I've found listening to something makes chores like lawn mowing go faster, and helps out when I walk or run. Oh, who am I kidding? Walk.
So, what kind of podcasts do I listen to? I thought you'd never ask.
There's something called podcast fade, and some of the ones I used to like have faded away in time. But plenty others are still going strong, and most of my favorites--of course--involved writing:
I Should be Writing is by SF author Mur Lafferty, and is aimed more at beginning writers. Lafferty shares her own struggles with writing and publishing, not to mention depression and other related challenges.
Ditch Diggers: Lafferty is joined by author Matt Wallace for a more advanced writing podcast, which covers more of the business end of the industry. As their theme song says, they pull no punches.
Writing Excuses: It's fifteen minutes long, because "You're in a hurry, and we're not that smart". A group of authors goes over every aspect of writing. Sometimes they spend too much time on the politically correct for my taste, but it's not a bad thing to hear what people have to say on various issues.
Shipping and Handling: Two literary agents sip wine and discuss their industry and their jobs. Sometimes they spend too much time on national politics, but otherwise it's a great look into the minds of agents and how the business works from their end.
The Writer's Digest Podcast They don't seem to be podcasting anymore, and neither does Harlequin: Meet the Editors, but you might still be able to glean interesting tidbits from their older shows.
Smart Author with Mark Coker: This one's about book marketing and self publishing, which isn't surprising when you realize Coker is the founder of self-publishing powerhouse Smashwords.
Of course, there's more to life than writing, although you wouldn't think that to talk to me.
ID10T with Chris Hardwick is a talk show with uber geek Hardwick, who has far ranging conversations with, well, everybody--actors, authors, comedians, singers, you name it. One of my favorites was Max Brooks, author and son of the legendary Mel Brooks, who's just as fast on his feet as his dad. I don't spend a lot of time on pop culture, but Hardwick seems to be a genuinely nice guy and a joy to listen to.
Nutty Bites: My first podcast experience was with my friend Tabz of Strangely Literal, and she led me to Nutty and her husband Tech, and don't Canadadians have strange first names? You boot, they do. Nutty holds fourth with her friends on various nerd subjects, and this is where I go when I just want to have fun.
Planetary Radio: I love space stuff. This, the podcast of the not for profit Planetary Society, looks into the tech, politics, and science of space exploration, very much one of my earliest interests.
The History Chicks: Two ladies talk about history--specifically, women of history. I love history, and women ain't too bad either. Sometimes they're surprisingly squeamish about how things were done back in the day, but they don't pull any punches--and by the time they're done, you'll be squeamish about the good old days, too. But you can learn a lot in a fun way, about women ranging from Queens of England, to a Chinese pirate (yes, female), to authors, inventors, and murderers. You probably won't be surprised about how seldom the ladies get the historical credit they earned.
The Bladtcast: Christian Bladt was Dennis Miller's sidekick on Miller's podcast, and when Bladt started one of his own I moved over there with him. Not literally. He and his cast of friends basically nerd out (often obscenely) about various fandoms ranging from movies and comics to sports, and it's another one I listen to for the fun of it.
How about you all? Any favorite podcasts to recommend? There are a million of them out there.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 8, 2023
book review: Winged Escort, by Douglas Reeman
World War II. Terrible as that time was, the warriors were strong and moral, always brave, steadfast, and focused on the same goal.
Or, sometimes, not so much.
One would think a novel written in the mid-Seventies would be big on the glory, as were so many books and movies in the years after the war. But Douglas Reeman was there, and he pulls no punches about how terrible it was, to bodies and souls.
www.amazon.com/Winged-Escort-Modern-F...
https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.c...
To stop the destruction of Allied shipping in the Atlantic, small, slow escort carriers are being built to accompany convoys, and fighter pilot Rowan is assigned to the HMS Growler. It's flagship of a tiny fleet escorting a convoy through the frigid Arctic to the Soviet Union, and German forces send everything they have against it.
Rowan can only do his job as his comrades fall one by one, his superiors make foolish mistakes for selfish reasons, and his own mind takes a battering from the constant stress and danger.
After surviving that trip Rowan falls into a love affair while recovering from injuries, then ships out to the Pacific, where the Growler faces an unexpected threat: Kamikaze attacks. So there's plenty of action, but Reeman doesn't hold back from showing the mental and physical beating the pilots and sailors went through during the war.
https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/5...
So, how did I end up reviewing a four decade old novel? Well, I went out of town, was feeling under the weather and didn't want to read on my phone, and--there it was. A happy accident, because Reeman wrote with a spare but still detailed style that puts you right on board that little ship. He wrote dozens of other books, and I suspect they're equally gripping--look him up.
You can find Douglas Reeman's other books here:
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Douglas...
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Or, sometimes, not so much.
One would think a novel written in the mid-Seventies would be big on the glory, as were so many books and movies in the years after the war. But Douglas Reeman was there, and he pulls no punches about how terrible it was, to bodies and souls.
www.amazon.com/Winged-Escort-Modern-F...
https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.c...
To stop the destruction of Allied shipping in the Atlantic, small, slow escort carriers are being built to accompany convoys, and fighter pilot Rowan is assigned to the HMS Growler. It's flagship of a tiny fleet escorting a convoy through the frigid Arctic to the Soviet Union, and German forces send everything they have against it.
Rowan can only do his job as his comrades fall one by one, his superiors make foolish mistakes for selfish reasons, and his own mind takes a battering from the constant stress and danger.
After surviving that trip Rowan falls into a love affair while recovering from injuries, then ships out to the Pacific, where the Growler faces an unexpected threat: Kamikaze attacks. So there's plenty of action, but Reeman doesn't hold back from showing the mental and physical beating the pilots and sailors went through during the war.
https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/5...
So, how did I end up reviewing a four decade old novel? Well, I went out of town, was feeling under the weather and didn't want to read on my phone, and--there it was. A happy accident, because Reeman wrote with a spare but still detailed style that puts you right on board that little ship. He wrote dozens of other books, and I suspect they're equally gripping--look him up.
You can find Douglas Reeman's other books here:
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Douglas...
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
March 3, 2023
Be Steel, My Heart
The Fifth of March is my eleventh wedding anniversary, so I checked and found out the traditional gift for that particular landmark is ... steel.
So I gave Emily a license plate.
I don't know what I'm more worried about, her reaction or how soon the owner will find out it's gone.
Apparently steel symbolizes strength and integrity, and how hardened you have to be to your spouse's bad habits to last eleven years.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...
I think our best mutual anniversary present was the dog. Also, one of the more expensive, but never mind. The truth is Beowulf wasn't an anniversary gift at all, but he's been with us for almost our entire marriage--he's basically our child, and one year I even had his portrait painted (penciled?) as a present for her. The only thing that's lasted longer for us are some of my shirts, although for some reason I keep finding them accidentally tossed into the trash can.
https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dI0Glp81_7...
I suspect Emily's given up on expecting a lot out of me on special occasions like this, but hope springs eternal. I freeze up when it comes to preparing for these things. Congress will balance the budget before I get around to planning. I'm also utterly unable to compose a nice greeting card message, despite the fact that I'm an actual writer. I'm sure a good psychiatrist could get that all sorted out, but I have to wonder whether that sorting would screw something else up. I'm a carefully balanced stack of anxiety and insecurity at this point in my life--why take chances?
Just the same, I think she still appreciates me ... I think ... and I know she still loves me, or she'd head back to her home state where winters are milder. (Except maybe this year.) She also knows what I need more than I do myself, which is probably a thing with all couples, and she takes good care of me. I try to take care of her, too. I guess that's the important thing.
As for gifts, what Emily really wants is a horse, of course.
https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LBx4-729B7...
And I think Beowulf would be okay with it--he's touched noses with horses before. However, if we tried to keep a horse in our back yard I'm pretty sure someone would notice, and that's not allowed in town. Unfair, right? Horses can come in handy. But we're on the lookout for a place in the country, so sooner or later I'll get her that horse ... s ... horses.
So Emily, if you're still talking to me--you never know for sure--I love you, and I'm sorry for my fails, some of which are epic. I'm working on them! Well, I'm working on some of them. But I'll always be there for you, even when I'm being there badly, and know this:
I love you more than chocolate.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
So I gave Emily a license plate.
I don't know what I'm more worried about, her reaction or how soon the owner will find out it's gone.
Apparently steel symbolizes strength and integrity, and how hardened you have to be to your spouse's bad habits to last eleven years.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...
I think our best mutual anniversary present was the dog. Also, one of the more expensive, but never mind. The truth is Beowulf wasn't an anniversary gift at all, but he's been with us for almost our entire marriage--he's basically our child, and one year I even had his portrait painted (penciled?) as a present for her. The only thing that's lasted longer for us are some of my shirts, although for some reason I keep finding them accidentally tossed into the trash can.
https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dI0Glp81_7...
I suspect Emily's given up on expecting a lot out of me on special occasions like this, but hope springs eternal. I freeze up when it comes to preparing for these things. Congress will balance the budget before I get around to planning. I'm also utterly unable to compose a nice greeting card message, despite the fact that I'm an actual writer. I'm sure a good psychiatrist could get that all sorted out, but I have to wonder whether that sorting would screw something else up. I'm a carefully balanced stack of anxiety and insecurity at this point in my life--why take chances?
Just the same, I think she still appreciates me ... I think ... and I know she still loves me, or she'd head back to her home state where winters are milder. (Except maybe this year.) She also knows what I need more than I do myself, which is probably a thing with all couples, and she takes good care of me. I try to take care of her, too. I guess that's the important thing.
As for gifts, what Emily really wants is a horse, of course.
https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LBx4-729B7...
And I think Beowulf would be okay with it--he's touched noses with horses before. However, if we tried to keep a horse in our back yard I'm pretty sure someone would notice, and that's not allowed in town. Unfair, right? Horses can come in handy. But we're on the lookout for a place in the country, so sooner or later I'll get her that horse ... s ... horses.
So Emily, if you're still talking to me--you never know for sure--I love you, and I'm sorry for my fails, some of which are epic. I'm working on them! Well, I'm working on some of them. But I'll always be there for you, even when I'm being there badly, and know this:
I love you more than chocolate.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
February 27, 2023
Plot Or People? One's Usually First, For Writers
One of the reasons I'm struggling a bit with my new writing project is that I usually start with a plot, then find characters to fit into the story. This has drawbacks, the biggest being that as I create my characters, they sometimes become so real to me that they start saying things I don't want to hear:
"Yeah, I know you plan for this to happen, then that to happen--but I just wouldn't do those things."
You're just a character, do what I tell you.
"Fine. That'll be my voice in the back of your mind--and you ain't heard nagging yet."
Don't even get me started on Beth Hamlin.
Stupid characters. But they're usually right, and I've been known to make changes accordingly. Just the same, I start out with a plot, and the major plot points usually stay the same, as does the ending.
This time out I started with great characters: a group of firefighters on a fictional department somewhere in the Midwest. I had a great setting, background on all of the above, and even some scenes already playing in my mind.
But no plot.
I did have a general arc going on in the background, but mostly the story was about the day to day lives of my characters, and the challenges they faced on the job. It was episodic, like a series of short stories put together, or a TV show about firefighters, of which there are many. My favorite remains "Emergency!", which is indeed put together that way. Season long plot arcs would have been laughed at, back then.
But I want a plot. I'm a plot guy.
And here's the thing: I have identified a plot idea, but it's deadly serious, tragic, and very "ripped from the headlines". If you know my writing, you know I generally keep to light escapism, and my characters are all set to have a lot of fun in their life and death careers.
I'm not asking for a solution, mind you (although if you want to offer one, hey!) I'm only complaining because talking out loud helps me resolve these dilemmas. It seems to be working: Even as I write this I realize the Big Bad event I've contemplated would set things up for future books in a series, if that should happen.
And those future plot ideas I have come up with; all I need is an opening.
(Remember: Every time you buy a book, a writer's career could blow up. Not literally. Well, maybe in my case.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
"Yeah, I know you plan for this to happen, then that to happen--but I just wouldn't do those things."
You're just a character, do what I tell you.
"Fine. That'll be my voice in the back of your mind--and you ain't heard nagging yet."
Don't even get me started on Beth Hamlin.
Stupid characters. But they're usually right, and I've been known to make changes accordingly. Just the same, I start out with a plot, and the major plot points usually stay the same, as does the ending.
This time out I started with great characters: a group of firefighters on a fictional department somewhere in the Midwest. I had a great setting, background on all of the above, and even some scenes already playing in my mind.
But no plot.
I did have a general arc going on in the background, but mostly the story was about the day to day lives of my characters, and the challenges they faced on the job. It was episodic, like a series of short stories put together, or a TV show about firefighters, of which there are many. My favorite remains "Emergency!", which is indeed put together that way. Season long plot arcs would have been laughed at, back then.
But I want a plot. I'm a plot guy.
And here's the thing: I have identified a plot idea, but it's deadly serious, tragic, and very "ripped from the headlines". If you know my writing, you know I generally keep to light escapism, and my characters are all set to have a lot of fun in their life and death careers.
I'm not asking for a solution, mind you (although if you want to offer one, hey!) I'm only complaining because talking out loud helps me resolve these dilemmas. It seems to be working: Even as I write this I realize the Big Bad event I've contemplated would set things up for future books in a series, if that should happen.
And those future plot ideas I have come up with; all I need is an opening.
(Remember: Every time you buy a book, a writer's career could blow up. Not literally. Well, maybe in my case.)
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
February 22, 2023
My Magnetic Resonance Personality
I spent a lot of time in medical facilities, usually as a visitor, occasionally as a patient. And yet--this will come as a surprise to my fourteen regular readers--I've never had an MRI. Until a few years ago.
Oh, plenty of X-rays, and a biopsy. The MRI was oh, so much more fun, in a world where "fun" is relative.
The Magnetic Resonance Imaging test was to find whether there might be cancer in my prostate, and also, I suppose, to confirm my head wasn't up there. As I said earlier, there was no cancer, which doesn't mean there were no surprises.
We were told by various armchair testing experts that the MRI would take around twenty minutes. luckily, my wife brought a book with her anyway. It would take an hour, the med people said as they presented me with the only good surprise of the day: scrubs to wear, instead of one of those weird back exposing half-shirts you couldn't tie shut with duct tape and Superglue.
The people there (who were very nice, by the way), asked a laundry list of questions designed to make sure I had no metal on me. There was a pause when I told them I had a piece of metal in my upper chest. Where was it from? I told them "Nam", with a fairly straight face, because the truth is just too mundane.
"Well," one replied, "if your Viet Cong shrapnel starts to heat up, or if any other area catches fire, let us know."
(FYI, I was thirteen when the Vietnam War ended. I really need to update that particular lame joke.)
I was also told not to touch my hands to each other, or I might look like one of those movie superheroes generating lightning between their fingers.
As you slide into the little tube, they give you a bulb to hold in one hand. Squeezing it sets of an alarm. One reason for this is because you're packed into that thing so tightly even people with no fear of enclosed spaces feel like the lowest sardine in the pack.
They put headphones on me, because the MRI machine makes more noise than a reelected Congressman on his third drink. I was looking forward to some nice music, or any music, but these were just regular headphones--the music ones were on back order. Instead I was serenaded by the grinding and buzzing of a machine so loud I heard it plainly even with headphones and earplugs. It was like trying to sleep in a jet engine.
And every once in awhile the thing suddenly moved, which no one warned me about. I thought some giant was squeezing me out onto his toothbrush.
But the weirdest thing that happened was right after they turned it on, when someone started tugging on that bulb in my hand. I was startled, because no one was in the room. My hand was floating into the air, as if the Force was trying to get me to lift my car to a closer parking spot.
Then I realized it wasn't my hand lifting into the air--it was my ring. It was trying to float away and take my finger with it, which feels just as weird as it sounds.
It turns out rings are usually not of a material affected, so Magneto can't try to make you dance from one arm. MRI technicians often don't bother with them.
But my wife, knowing my interest in astronomy, got me a wedding ring made from a meteorite--an iron meteorite. Magneto could go to town on me.
After that all went well. The sliver of steel is still in my chest--Gulf War?--and I passed the time by plotting out a new novel. It's going to be about a guy who gets transported to another world through an MRI machine.
Or Magneto.
https://media.allauthor.com/images/bo...
Remember: Every time you buy a book, a Terminator gets stuck to an MRI machine. Save John Conner.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Oh, plenty of X-rays, and a biopsy. The MRI was oh, so much more fun, in a world where "fun" is relative.
The Magnetic Resonance Imaging test was to find whether there might be cancer in my prostate, and also, I suppose, to confirm my head wasn't up there. As I said earlier, there was no cancer, which doesn't mean there were no surprises.
We were told by various armchair testing experts that the MRI would take around twenty minutes. luckily, my wife brought a book with her anyway. It would take an hour, the med people said as they presented me with the only good surprise of the day: scrubs to wear, instead of one of those weird back exposing half-shirts you couldn't tie shut with duct tape and Superglue.
The people there (who were very nice, by the way), asked a laundry list of questions designed to make sure I had no metal on me. There was a pause when I told them I had a piece of metal in my upper chest. Where was it from? I told them "Nam", with a fairly straight face, because the truth is just too mundane.
"Well," one replied, "if your Viet Cong shrapnel starts to heat up, or if any other area catches fire, let us know."
(FYI, I was thirteen when the Vietnam War ended. I really need to update that particular lame joke.)
I was also told not to touch my hands to each other, or I might look like one of those movie superheroes generating lightning between their fingers.
As you slide into the little tube, they give you a bulb to hold in one hand. Squeezing it sets of an alarm. One reason for this is because you're packed into that thing so tightly even people with no fear of enclosed spaces feel like the lowest sardine in the pack.
They put headphones on me, because the MRI machine makes more noise than a reelected Congressman on his third drink. I was looking forward to some nice music, or any music, but these were just regular headphones--the music ones were on back order. Instead I was serenaded by the grinding and buzzing of a machine so loud I heard it plainly even with headphones and earplugs. It was like trying to sleep in a jet engine.
And every once in awhile the thing suddenly moved, which no one warned me about. I thought some giant was squeezing me out onto his toothbrush.
But the weirdest thing that happened was right after they turned it on, when someone started tugging on that bulb in my hand. I was startled, because no one was in the room. My hand was floating into the air, as if the Force was trying to get me to lift my car to a closer parking spot.
Then I realized it wasn't my hand lifting into the air--it was my ring. It was trying to float away and take my finger with it, which feels just as weird as it sounds.
It turns out rings are usually not of a material affected, so Magneto can't try to make you dance from one arm. MRI technicians often don't bother with them.
But my wife, knowing my interest in astronomy, got me a wedding ring made from a meteorite--an iron meteorite. Magneto could go to town on me.
After that all went well. The sliver of steel is still in my chest--Gulf War?--and I passed the time by plotting out a new novel. It's going to be about a guy who gets transported to another world through an MRI machine.
Or Magneto.
https://media.allauthor.com/images/bo...
Remember: Every time you buy a book, a Terminator gets stuck to an MRI machine. Save John Conner.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
February 17, 2023
Doctor Finger Probes Prostate Problem
I want to start out by saying I do not have cancer, and this story actually happened some time ago. So not to worry.
But the docs thought I might ... for several years. Specifically, I had high prostate specific antigen readings, otherwise known as PSA. That's why I kept having to visit my urologist, Doctor Finger. What a pain in the ass.
But it could be worse. I always thought a urologist dealt with urine issues, and I don't want anyone's finger going up that way.
So they tested, and probed (!) and tested again, during which time I was told I might have cancer ... or not. So then they went in with a needle and took about a dozen samples, something called a biopsy. Do you want to know where they go in with a needles to get those samples?
No. No, you do not.
It came up, um, clean, but the PSA count stayed high. Way high. Too high. Something was wrong.
(Some men go for years with high PSA ratings, without ever getting cancer. Women rarely have high PSA readings, what with them not having prostates. But men don't often have to get mammograms, so never mind.)
And so, in desperation, Doctor Finger sent me to get an MRI. That stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, and costs about a hundred dollars a letter. That's $600 just for the magnet. (Buying and installing one MRI machine can cost more than three million dollars.)
I'll be writing separately about the MRI ... it was an experience. Honestly, I'd much rather go through it again than have a physical exam by my urologist, who's a really nice guy but has big hands. The MRI took an hour, and the digital exam a few minutes, but it felt the opposite.
I know you're anxious to see the results ... um, hear--hear the results. Well, there was no immediate sign of cancer. Yay!
But my prostate was, quoting Doctor Finger, "as big as my head". And his head is even bigger than his hands.
Now, here's the fun part: My prostate is two and a half times its normal size. He explained that PSA readings are like harvesting crops: The bigger the field, the more crops you harvest. So, since my prostate was bigger, my PSA count was naturally bigger, too.
See where I'm going with this?
Yeah. For ten years when I might have had cancer because of unusually high PSA counts, my PSA counts were NORMAL.
So.
You know, I lead a fairly stressful life already; I don't need any help. Just sayin'.
__________________________
Remember: Whenever you don't buy a book, an author has to have a colonoscopy. Save their ass.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
But the docs thought I might ... for several years. Specifically, I had high prostate specific antigen readings, otherwise known as PSA. That's why I kept having to visit my urologist, Doctor Finger. What a pain in the ass.
But it could be worse. I always thought a urologist dealt with urine issues, and I don't want anyone's finger going up that way.
So they tested, and probed (!) and tested again, during which time I was told I might have cancer ... or not. So then they went in with a needle and took about a dozen samples, something called a biopsy. Do you want to know where they go in with a needles to get those samples?
No. No, you do not.
It came up, um, clean, but the PSA count stayed high. Way high. Too high. Something was wrong.
(Some men go for years with high PSA ratings, without ever getting cancer. Women rarely have high PSA readings, what with them not having prostates. But men don't often have to get mammograms, so never mind.)
And so, in desperation, Doctor Finger sent me to get an MRI. That stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, and costs about a hundred dollars a letter. That's $600 just for the magnet. (Buying and installing one MRI machine can cost more than three million dollars.)
I'll be writing separately about the MRI ... it was an experience. Honestly, I'd much rather go through it again than have a physical exam by my urologist, who's a really nice guy but has big hands. The MRI took an hour, and the digital exam a few minutes, but it felt the opposite.
I know you're anxious to see the results ... um, hear--hear the results. Well, there was no immediate sign of cancer. Yay!
But my prostate was, quoting Doctor Finger, "as big as my head". And his head is even bigger than his hands.
Now, here's the fun part: My prostate is two and a half times its normal size. He explained that PSA readings are like harvesting crops: The bigger the field, the more crops you harvest. So, since my prostate was bigger, my PSA count was naturally bigger, too.
See where I'm going with this?
Yeah. For ten years when I might have had cancer because of unusually high PSA counts, my PSA counts were NORMAL.
So.
You know, I lead a fairly stressful life already; I don't need any help. Just sayin'.
__________________________
Remember: Whenever you don't buy a book, an author has to have a colonoscopy. Save their ass.
http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
