Brandon Ellis's Blog, page 3

IS THE MOON HOLLOW?

The moon may be hollow.
.
Yesterday, I was watching a documentary on the moon and I found myself rather bored because I’ve heard it all before, except for a couple of amazing facts that happened during the time that Buzz Aldrin, Michael Collins, and Neil Armstrong landed on the moon.

 


Get ready, ’cause this is very interesting.
.
When on the surface of the moon, they installed seismographs connected to NASA’s computers to observe possible seismic activity. Of course, while they were on the moon, no seismic activity was observed. However, upon lift off, two strange things happened:


 


One – Buzz, Neil, and Michael jettisoned a portion of their ship about five hundred feet above the surface of the moon and video taped it falling and smashing upon the rocky terrain. What happened next startled NASA. The seismic activity went wild. The moon literally rang like a bell for an hour straight. That’s one incredible hour of non-stop seismic ringing. The only plausible reason would be that the moon is hollow, which astounded NASA. Further research shows that the moon is most likely not hollow, but according to the ten or so physicists, researchers, and engineers being interviewed in the documentary, they were very convinced that the only time something could ring for that long is if it is hollow.


 


Two – Buzz, Neil, and Michael started seeing flashes of lights, then balls of lights whizzing by, and then more lights shining on the surface of the moon and on the moon’s horizon. They didn’t know if they should check the lights out or if they should just report it when they got back home. In an interview, Buzz said that they decided to let the guys on the next mission figure out what those strange lights were.
.
The hollow moon apparently isn’t a new theory. In one of H.G. Wells books, The First Men in the Moon, he wrote extensively on the hollow moon, making it a pretty popular science fiction book at the time.
.
Furthermore, two famous Russian scientists took this theory even further, suggesting that the moon isn’t just a moon at all. It’s a full blown space ship. Yep, I’m not making this up. They wrote an article in the 1970’s in a publication called the Sputnik, the Soviet’s Reader’s Digest, stating that the moon is actually a ship of some type created by extraterrestrials. They had a lot of research to back their claim, but as you can imagine, they weren’t taken too seriously anywhere else, except inside of Russia.

.

Here’s more:

.

“Their hypothesis relies heavily on the suggestion that large lunar craters, generally assumed to be formed from meteor impact, are generally too shallow and have flat or even convex bottoms. They hypothesized that small meteors are making a cup-shaped depression in the rocky surface of the moon while the larger meteors are drilling through a rocky layer and hitting an armoured hull underneath.[13]

.

The authors reference earlier speculation by astrophysicist Iosif Shklovsky, who suggested that the Martian moon Phobos was an artificial satellite and hollow…”

.

– Wikipedia

.

It looks like I have some new ideas for a science fiction book.

.

Very interesting, indeed.

.

Brandon Ellis
www.brandon-ellis.com

The post IS THE MOON HOLLOW? appeared first on .

I thought I was Done…Then this Happened

There is something that author’s tend to do, and that is to write for the audience. I’ve tried that too many times, getting as far as a couple of chapters before I stop writing, realizing that my heart just isn’t into it. So, I’ve adopted a different strategy, one that isn’t very popular, but it works for me and keeps me going in an industry that I love — writing novels.

The strategy is two fold:

Write what I would love to read
Write from my heart

I know, not much of a strategy, but very effective. I risk the reader’s interest level, according to the experts, but at least I’m doing  what I enjoy. It’s damn hard work, long hours, and with little reward, but it’s what I have a passion for and if I can’t live doing what I love, then what’s the point? If the experts tell me that I should write this way or that way, and it pulls me into a depressed state, then perhaps their opinion or their studies and research just isn’t for me. Plus, I’ve won a global book award with one of my novels, so my stories aren’t that bad.

Penguins on Pluto

When I was an eighth grader we had an assignment where we were to create a book. I remember having the most joyous time making it. I wrote the story, drew the pictures, and even bound the book in Mrs. Leonetti’s class. I titled the book, “Penguin’s on Pluto”. It was really well liked and they even bused me, and a few others, to the elementary school to read it to the youngsters.

About 7 years ago, my friend and I decided to publish it and sell it to book stores. It seemed that everywhere we went, the bookstores either took pity on us or they really liked it, but one way or another, they always bought copies and sold out. I even had a few book stores contact me for more copies.

That short stint of success died out, but what came out of it were a few fans — all of my kids.

Today, my 4 year old picked it up for the first time and had me read it to her. The problem? “Penguins on Pluto” was the only book that she had me read over and over and over and over again until I got sick and tired of these damned “Penguin’s on Pluto” that I actually had to tell her that I didn’t want to read it anymore. I read it 5 times … in a row. I know, doesn’t sound like much, but it would have gone on and on and on had I not said … “okay, I’m done.”

But, what I got out of this was priceless.

When I was a kid making that book, I had an incredible amount of fun. I put my heart into it, not expecting anyone to like it. The only person I thought would like it was me. And, it turned out that the entire class enjoyed it and it got published in a scholastic book the year after I made it. Then, several years ago, it got published by Blue Heron Publishing, and even though it wasn’t a major, or even a minor success, it garnered fans across the world (okay, not the world, but across Oregon — mostly the highway 101 line and local independent book stores).

I didn’t write it for money. I didn’t write it for success. I wrote it out of pure joy. And, because I wrote it out of pure joy, I have not met a person who has not carried the biggest smile while reading that short, but perfect, piece of literature.

So, the priceless moment? Do what you love, and let the cards fall where they will.

The post Penguins on Pluto appeared first on .

Star Guild — A Shocking Myth to Mainstream Science Fiction

In 1849, British archeologist, Austin Henry Layard, discovered 22,000 clay tablets in the Ancient Sumerian city of Nineveh, in an area now known as Iraq. These tablets have come to be known as the Sumerian Tablets.

What these tablets say are shocking, and revolutionary, to say the least. If the tablets are truly a written record of earth’s past, then they change everything that we know about history, and everything we know about history, and have been taught in school, would be just the tip of the iceberg. Everything below the surface of the water would in turn be the “rest of the story”.

Here we go…

According to these Sumerian Tablets, the “Anunnaki” are a big portion of the “rest of the story”.

“Imagine the most beautiful women and men of your race. We’re very similar to them — to you. Your race would consider our features as being very favorable, as none of us have flaws or asymmetrical features, nor do we age like your race. The biggest difference, however, is that we range from 8 to 12 feet in height and the oldest of the Nankuani are even taller.” — Excerpt from Star Guild. A quote from one of the main characters named “S”.

* A side note: The Anunnaki are called the “Nankuani” in my book, Star Guild.  Although there are correlations with my book and the Anunnaki timeline, my story, on the other hand, takes place in a different sector of the Universe, and in a different era, so let’s divert back to earth’s tale. *

The Sumerian Tablets suggest that sometime in ancient history a race descended from the heavens and landed in the Garden of Eden, or, what they called, Sumer. These ancient aliens were the Annunaki. They came here for a specific purpose — to find gold. The tablets assert that the Anunnaki planet, Nibiru, through advances and disruptions in the Anunnaki technology, severely burnt holes in their atmosphere. They needed a way to fix their planet and save their people.

(This sounds like a Science Fiction story in itself, doesn’t it? Well, after 22,000 tablets, many of which have been translated, I’m not even close to done.)

The amazing mineral and element that we call gold, which is found in high quantities on earth, was the Anunnaki’s savior, of sorts. They mined and heated up gold, then let it cool, and brought it back to their planet to disperse amongst the Nibiru atmosphere, successfully patching up the holes for a short periods of time, thus needing continual shipments of gold to be sent from Earth to Nibiru on a constant basis.

But, mining is hard work and very difficult.

Of the 22,000 tablets, fourteen of them are called “Tablets of Lord Enki“. According to the “Fifth Tablet of Lord Enki“, the “Igigi” (the Anunnaki Miners) rebelled.

“On Earth the Anunnaki toiled, of work and sustenance they were complaining. By Earth’s quick cycles they were disturbed, of the elixir they only small rations were given. In the Edin the Anunnaki toiled, in the Abzu the work was more backbreaking. By teams were Anunnaki sent back to Nibiru, by teams new ones were arriving. The Igigi, on Lahmu dwelling, were the loudest in complaining…” (1)

What was their solution?

“Sacred Formulas…the secrets of life and death possessing they shaped, the mysteries of living and dying of Earth’s creatures they to unravel sought. With some living creatures Enki was especially enamored; They lived among the tall trees, their front legs as hands they were using. In the tall grasses of the steppes odd creatures were seen; erect they seemed to be walking.” (2)

Were these monkeys? Perhaps…

“A solution is possible! Enki was saying: Let us create a Lulu, a Primitive Worker, the hardship work to take over, let the Being the toil of the Anunnaki carry on his back…Thereby a Lulu, a Primitive Worker, shall be created! So did Enki to them say. Let us hereby a decision make, a blessing to my plan give: To create a Primitive Worker, by the mark of Our essence to fashion him! ” (3)

It was this Enki (an Anunnaki), along with his sister, Ninhursag, who created another Being through many experiments, until they found one that was sufficient and looked similar to their own race. But, could this Being be taught to work, gather, and more importantly, mine gold?

They can and they did.

Enter “us”, the homo sapiens.

Stay tuned. More to come…

 

Bibliography:

(1) The Lost Book of Enki, translations by Zacharia Sitchen, pg. 88

(2)The Lost Book of Enki, translations by Zacharia Sitchen, pg. 93

(3) The Lost Book of Enki, translations by Zacharia Sitchen, pg. 95

 

By Brandon Ellis

www.brandon-ellis.com

The post Star Guild — A Shocking Myth to Mainstream Science Fiction appeared first on .

What this Blog is About

Mystery History. I’m a history buff. That doesn’t mean that I’m an expert, but I surely have studied history more than most, and I have spent a large chunk of my life reading books about our past.

I’m also a Science Fiction and Fantasy buff. This is a bit of a conundrum. I love the past and I love the future. So, what is it that I do in the present?

I’ll tell ya.

I like to take our mysterious past, research as much as I can on a particular mystery, and then, with my very spacey imagination, I place them into my Science Fiction/Fantasy books. This makes my books enticing, entertaining, and informational.

So, this is where I am. I’m dedicating this blog to my favorite mysteries in history. Because, as many of you know, our history can repeat itself. So, if we can uncover as much historical fact as possible, we can discover where we went wrong, and, just as importantly, where we went right.

To learn more, click on my ABOUT page.

Thank you for reading.

Brandon Ellis

The post What this Blog is About appeared first on .

Book 3 of the PureLights Series

The PureLights & the Pyramid of Ohm is finally out and selling on Amazon.com. It was at the editors for a long time, waiting in line to be edited, and even though I had a blast writing the trilogy, I’m excited to get back to my Star Guild Saga, which I should have the second and final novel completed and out in a couple of months.

Nonetheless, take a look at Book 3 of the PureLight Series, “The PureLights & the Pyramid of Ohm”.  It’s already receiving 5 star reviews, which is the highlight of my writing. I love 5 stars, but which author doesn’t? So, I must thank you for 1) taking the time to read my blog. And, 2) being such wonderful readers and always helping me along in my writing, whether it be the emails you send me or the great reviews you give me. Thank you so much. I appreciate you more than you know.

Below is a link to the book on Amazon. The paperback isn’t out yet, but will be soon.

Keep in mind, if you ever see Ellen Degeneres, let her know that I want her to read my PureLights Series. Wink. Wink.

(I really want her to read my book!)

The PureLights & the Pyramid of Ohm

Zoey is on the run with malicious Dims in hot pursuit. They are determined to stop her from reaching her destination—the great Pyramid of Ohm. Attached to Zoey’s leg is the sacred scroll of the PureLight Order and the golden key, hidden from view by a powerful spell. She must deliver these to complete her mission and to help save the PureLights. What Zoey doesn’t know is that she also holds the secret to something even more valuable—something the Dims will gladly sacrifice their own lives to destroy.

Coda has already arrived at the Pyramid of Ohm, but he is trapped inside one of its chambers by a Dim spy. Coda knows he has only one day to escape before the chamber burns him alive.

The VioletLights—the sages of the PureLights—must help their friends defend themselves in the final battle against the evil clutches of Crepus Dim and his army. Their last chance of hope is to convince the Thunderbirds, an ancient race of giant birds, to help them. Will the Thunderbirds turn the PureLights away and watch them crumble under Crepus’ fatal rule?

Get ready for the last book of the PureLights trilogy. It’s a white-knuckle rush to the end.

PURCHASE

The post Book 3 of the PureLights Series appeared first on .

Convince Ellen DeGeneres to Read my Book Campaign – Day 12

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A FOUR YEAR OLD AND A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD

A DAD’S OBSERVATION

– A four year old will act as if their entire life has been ruined if you want to stay in the house and not go to the park.

A fourteen year old will act as if their entire life has been ruined if you want them to get out of the house and go to the park.

– A four year old will run around as if their hair is on fire if you tell them to go to their room.

A fourteen year old will scream bloody murder if you tell them to get out of their room.

– A four year old wants you to play with them — all of the time.

A fourteen year old wants you to mind your own business — all of the time.

– A four year old will run with delight and hug their daddy when daddy comes home from work.

A fourteen year old will look at you and say, “Hi dad.” If there is delight in their eyes, know they want something. The father, seeing said delight, then knows to be cautious and avoid all eye contact and exit the premises ASAP.

– A four year old will ask a million questions with innocence in their eyes.

A fourteen year old is convinced you’re an idiot.

– A four year old is learning that not everything in life revolves around them.

A fourteen year old has learned that not everything in life revolves around them, but decides to ignore that fact.

– A four year old will take pleasure in doing the dishes with you.

A fourteen year old believes that they will die if you ask them to put a dish in the sink.

– A four year old will help you clean the house, then mess the house up a few minutes later.

A fourteen year old will spend an hour reasoning with you that they didn’t make any mess, should not be accountable for cleaning it up, and knows, deep in their heart, that they are not messy Beings. They say this while sitting in their room, surrounded by dirty clothes and dirty dishes.

– A four year old will throw a temper tantrum in the middle of a grocery store.

A fourteen year old will throw a temper tantrum in their mind if they are seen with you in a grocery store.

– – – – – –

Although there are differences with a four year old and a fourteen year old, know that they have come here to teach us parents valuable lessons and that they do love you on a very deep, soul nurturing level.

Be patient with them, be kind to them, and show them that you love them no matter what.

And, what they learn the most from you is how we relate to the world around us. So, when you see someone in need, help that someone out. When you promise something to another individual, fulfill that promise. And, when you have the chance to be kind to another Human Being or an animal, then choose kindness.

– Brandon Ellis​, www.brandon-ellis.com

The post Convince Ellen DeGeneres to Read my Book Campaign – Day 12 appeared first on .

Convince Ellen DeGeneres to Read my Book Campaign – Day 10

Yes, I skipped a lot of days because of a ridiculous amount of work I had to tend to. But, now I am back.

Anyway, my daughter, Jenna, does her best in this video to convince Ellen DeGeneres to read my book, The PureLights of Ohm Totem. We did several takes, but we had a little munchkin (my other daughter, Lilyana) interrupt us on several occasions. When Lilyana wasn’t interrupting us, Jenna was having a hard time formulating what she wanted to say to the camera and would crack up or stumble with her words — which was kinda funny. Nonetheless, after several takes, we landed on this one, where again, it didn’t go as planned. At the end of the video, Jenna says her favorite quote, “Ellen is da bomb!” by Jenna Ellis.

The post Convince Ellen DeGeneres to Read my Book Campaign – Day 10 appeared first on .

Your Dreams Have the Answers to all Your Questions

Several months ago I was listening to my favorite radio show, “Coast to Coast AM”, with George Noory. An Edgar Cayce expert happened to be on, speaking on the life, wisdom, and discoveries of the famous 1900′s prophet, who healed thousands of people from all types of illnesses. According to edgarcayce.org, he would “put himself in a trance-like state by lying down on a couch, closing his eyes, and folding his hands over his stomach. In this state, he was able to place his mind in contact with all time and space—the universal consciousness, also known as the super-conscious mind. From there, he could respond to a variety of questions from individuals across the country. The questions were asked by a conductor of the readings, usually his wife Gertrude, and each session was documented by his secretary, Gladys Davis. These responses came to be called “readings,” and their insights offer practical help and advice to individuals even today.”

He prescribed thousands of natural therapies and folk remedies that healed the sick and lame, giving many diseased people hope in a time when information on corrective medicine wasn’t a call or an internet website away. He was so accurate with his readings that even Vice President Henry A. Wallace used Edgar’s services on several occasions.

But health and wellness wasn’t all he did. He predicted the 1929 stock market crash, warned of an impending World War II, spoke of the Essenes and the Dead Sea Scrolls before they were discovered, foresaw blood being used as a diagnostic tool in the future, and even correctly foretold future mergings of communication companies.

During this “Coast to Coast AM” interview, the Edgar Cayce expert spoke to the audience about a powerful exercise that I have been using ever since — dream asking. Edgar Cayce said that every single one of our questions can be answered by our subconscious mind and our subconscious mind could be tapped into during the dream state. We are, in fact, very aware when we dream, on a subtle and different level. According to Edgar, if you ask a question just before bed, it would then be answered by the time you woke up.

And, it takes practice.

The exercise is simple and consists of a diary or a piece of paper, a pen or a pencil, and a brief affirmation that you whisper as you close your eyes for the long night’s nap.

And, it works!

Here is what I do:

A friend of mine “coincidentally” gave me a diary the week I decided to start this dream practice. So, before I go to bed every night, I write a question in the diary, such as, “Who should I use as the voice of my Star Guild audible book?”

Next, I lay down and close my eyes, whispering, “I’ll remember my dreams. I’ll remember my dreams. I’ll remember my dreams.”

When I wake up the next morning, I write my dream down.

To my astonishment, the dreams are incredibly accurate. For example, when I asked about a voice actor for my audible book, I was shown a young man in his mid 30′s. He and I were walking on a beautiful, but strange landscape, heading toward a city in the distance. I was holding a bottle of water for my companion and whenever he was thirsty, we would stop and I’d give him a swig. When he would speak, I’d think how unique his voice was. When I woke up the next morning, I realized that the landscape we were walking on was the landscape of planet Lumus in my Star Guild book. And, to top it off, within one week I was contacted by a voice actor, given an audition tape by him, and WHAM! It hit me. This guys voice was the voice in my dream! When I looked him up, his picture mirrored the man walking next to me in my dream, as well!

I know, it sounds silly, and perhaps it is, but nonetheless, my dreams have been over 90% accurate by using this technique. (I sound like a salesmen).

One night I asked, “What am I to do with my life?” It was a very general and vague question, because I already knew what I wanted to do with my life, but I was in a very dark and confused place for a couple of days, not knowing where my life was going or if I was even on the right path. So, In a very important sense, I was asking for guidance and help.

That night I dreamt the most beautiful and joy-felt dream that I have ever had. In the dream, I was a ball of light, happy and free, and moving from scene to scene and helping people out, and in the process, easily accepting help (receiving has always been hard for me). It was a short dream, but during that dream I was told to “Live a Life of Giving”. I innately knew that a Life of Giving wasn’t just me giving everything away that I own. No, it was saying that I am to give when able and to receive when someone was gifting to me. I saw that a gift could also be a simple smile, a hug, or a beam of positive energy from one person to another.

Another dream, which also has had a lot of impact on my life, happened when I didn’t have a particular question in mind. That night, and just before bed, I asked, “What do I need to know?” And, just like before, I had a profound, life enhancing dream. It was long, so I won’t get into it, but the voice at the end of the dream said, “See the good in all things, and in everyone.”

And, these dreams keep coming. I can ask anything, even what book I should write next, or what is the best way to find an artist for my book cover.

I have found that sometimes dreams don’t make sense in the morning, but I have found that throughout the day I’ll suddenly get the “ah-ha” moment and the meaning immediately opens up.

So, to everyone out there reading this post, I ask to please try this for one week. If by day 5 or 7 you don’t seem to be receiving any dreams, then either find ways you can dream more successfully (there are several suggestions online) or realize it can take more practice.

Dream on!

Brandon

A Nearly Illiterate Child to a Successful Author

Part 1

There are a lot of reasons I shouldn’t be a writer today, some of which came from my own mis-understanding of grammar when I was a child, some from laziness, and others…well…keep reading.

I couldn’t read very well in elementary school and I couldn’t write properly either. I was told by my teachers that I didn’t have a knack for literature and I would be held back if I didn’t improve my skills, which was a very idle threat, simply because I didn’t have an ounce of improvement after I was told these things, and yet each year I was bounced up a grade level.

Bad grades always followed.

In middle school I had failing grades in every writing class that I ever took, and I flunked every writing and reading test. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and I didn’t feel that I ever would–or even needed to.

In high school I passed because I was a star athlete. I had coaches as my teachers, and when a coach wasn’t my teacher, a coach would direct a teacher to give me a “good enough grade”. I remember I had a 45% grade in Chemistry my junior year and I was shocked to see a D on my report card, thus allowing me to continue playing short-stop on my varsity baseball team.

Nonetheless, that was Chemistry and not writing.

You see, I never learned the basics of grammar or even how to spell. I didn’t know what verbs, adverbs, adjectives, or pronouns were. When a teacher would speak of an adverb, it might as well have been in a foreign language, because I had no idea what to do with an adverb, what it was for and where to put it. 

Yet, in school and out of school, I wanted to be an author–a story teller that was talented enough to be published. A dream that I felt would always be just that–a dream.

But, there were the few and very rare occasions when, looking back, you could see that writing was perhaps in my future.

In sixth grade we were asked to create our own children’s book.

I wrote, “Penguins on Pluto”, a story of three penguins named Pat, Penny, and Pooney, who create a space ship out of snow, blast off, and then head into space. Confused and scared, Penny takes over the controls and calms everyone down. When he notices a button that says, “SUPERHYPOTURBOGALACTICDRIVE”, he presses it and they go faster and faster through the solar system. After several pages of drama, they hit a meteor and find themselves crashing on Pluto, where they meet a nice group of Pluto-Beings. After some great and enlightening discussions with the Pluto-beings, and a minor altercations with a couple of mean Pluto-Beings, they get help repairing their ship. They then head back to planet Earth and crash land in Penny’s backyard.

Apparently, I liked to crash things.

Nonetheless, that story was the class favorite, the school’s favorite, and ended up being published into a book. I was even bused around to elementary school classrooms to read to the younger kids.

Yet, I really didn’t know how to write. I could put a story together, make it interesting and fun, but I didn’t even know where to put a comma, a quote, a semicolon, or a colon.

I was writing blind.

In 7th grade I had enough of this “not knowing” business and I decided to change things for the better. I knew that I just had to ask someone what to do and how to do it, but how? My parents weren’t skilled in grammar, vocabulary, spelling, or writing, so I couldn’t ask them. I was too shy to ask teachers, so that wasn’t a viable option I was willing to consider. So, I decided I was going to do it on my own. But, I’d have to start slowly, so I chose to start learning vocabulary and spelling first.

I asked my father to take me to a bookstore and buy me a dictionary. He was, and still is, a very giving man, and so of course he said yes.

When we arrived at the bookstore, we walked to a shelf with dictionaries displayed in all colors and sizes. I chose one and told my dad that I was determined to learn from it, one way or another (I was in 7th grade, so I didn’t say it in those exact words). From that moment forward, I convinced myself that any word I didn’t know or understand, whether it be in a book or from a teacher’s mouth, I would make sure to look it up, write it down, and memorize the definition.

Simple, right? You’d think so…

The next day I put my assigned reading book in my backpack, along with my dictionary, then headed out to school.

My first class so happened to be Reading with Mrs. Buchanon–the prettiest teacher in all of the land. I had a crush on her, just like all the boys did. She had brown hair, long eye lashes, blue eyes, bright red lip stick, and the face of an angel. Her husband was the coach of the high school basketball team, which meant to all of us boys that she was even cooler than we could ever imagine, and I knew that if she saw my dictionary, then I’d truly impress her.

That morning in class our assignment was to read a chapter, then write a summary on it. I pulled my book out, placed it on my desk, and started reading. The first page had a word I didn’t understand, so I lugged the dictionary out from my back pack and dropped it on the desk. I fished through the pages until I came upon the word I was looking for. I read the definition, felt satisfied, wrote it down and continued reading.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked up to see a brightly glowing Mrs. Buchanon.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

With a smile, I proudly lifted my chin. “I brought my dictionary. Any word I don’t know, I’m going to look it up.” I flashed an even wider smile, thinking she’d like me even more and perhaps applaud me in front of the entire class. I imagined my classmates picking me up, parading me down the hallways, and all the while music playing in the background with confetti sprinkling down on me. Everyone would know that I was the most brilliant child in school.

That, of course, didn’t occur.

My smile quickly melted when I saw her shake her head, her lips forming a frown. “No, no, no. You’re too young to use a dictionary. When you don’t know a word, you must skip over it and continue reading. You’ll soon figure out what the word meant by the sentences that follow. Do you understand?”

Huh? Really? That didn’t make any sense. She looked at the entire room and used me as an example of what NOT to do.

I nodded my head yes, faking an understanding that I simply couldn’t wrap my head around. I then sunk down into my seat, defeated. I didn’t understand why I was too young to use a dictionary. After a while of complete and utter confusion, I raised my hand and Mrs. Buchanon walked back over to me.

“Can I please use my dictionary? My dad bought it for me yesterday.” I thought that if I included my father in my dilemma, then I’d get off the hook and be able to use my dictionary.

“Not in my class. Like I said, you just skip over the words you don’t know. That’s how you become a better reader.”

Baffled, I put the dictionary away and continued reading, feeling deflated because all I wanted to do was learn how to write, which included proper spelling and advanced vocabulary skills. I took her advice though and never used a dictionary in her class, or any classes, until…

…high school, junior year.

For some God-awful reason and a big mistake by the school placement program, I was put into Advanced English with the hardest teacher in school. His name was Mr. Graham. He was a trained actor, bald with a terrible golden-blond hair-piece, and large buck teeth. He was well-known for picking on people if they seemed “dull” or “dim-witted”. If you were one second late to class, the entire class would know, because he locked the door the minute the class was scheduled to start.

So, upon the first day in his class, I told myself to keep my mouth shut and never ask a question or volunteer an answer. I’d be crazy to do such a thing. Only the smart kids raised their hands and I wasn’t one of them.

I soon found out how much of a mistake THAT was. Those who raised their hands were sometimes picked to answer questions, but those who didn’t raise their hands were also picked to answer questions. So, raising or not raising my hand didn’t help me out one bit!

And, soon enough, a week into his class I found how blush-red my face could get when I was put on the spot.

“Mr. Ellis?” he asked. ”Tell us what it means, please.” He was referring to a passage in the “Scarlett Letter” by Nathanial Hawthorne.

I froze, suddenly perspiring through every pore of my body. My ears burned, my eyes wanted to tear up, and my cheeks went rosy. I didn’t know what to say, because even though I had read the passage he asked about, I didn’t have a clue as to what it meant. In fact, I didn’t know what a quarter of the words on any given page in that book meant.

I stared wide eyed at Mr. Graham, hoping somehow the correct words would pop into my head and blather out of my mouth. Instead, I looked down at the book, struggling to at least say something.

Say something! I thought.

Every eye in the room was on me.

Just say anything. Please?

My mouth wouldn’t open.

Can I please speak? Brandon, just say some words. Make up something. Talk about how beautiful the book is and how it stirs long held emotions in you that you didn’t even know you had.

Hello?

Brandon?

Are you there?

All of these thoughts and nothing. I was now as purple-red as a beet.

After a minute, he finally shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t read it?”

I lied and said that I didn’t. Not because I wanted to lie, but because that’s what came out of my mouth. I could feel the rest of the class glaring at me, making me want to run out of the room or hide under my desk.

“Pick up the book and come up to the front of the room, Mr. Ellis.”

He always used our last names, because everything he did was formal. He sat perfectly straight, stood up slowly like he was royalty, and wrote with the most beautiful cursive that I had ever seen.

I stood, walked to the chalk board and turned around, seeing the students looking at me with concern written on their faces. They knew what I was experiencing and they were glad it wasn’t them. Plus, I could tell they knew I didn’t know much about anything, let alone anything about the “Scarlet Letter”. At that moment, I understood that my quiet demeanor in the classroom never truly hid the fact that I was the worst at all aspects of writing and reading.

“Read page 17, Mr. Ellis.”

I opened the book and read, falling over words, stumbling with the incorrect pronunciations of those same words, and making an utter fool of myself. My heart was practically beating out of my chest. Then, I heard a giggle and looked up. It was Brian Moffenbeier. He was a good friend, but smarter than I was by far and had a hard time keeping a straight face with anything, which often led to his eventual laughter. It turns out that not only my face had color, but my neck was cherry red, causing his abrupt cackle.

“What did that passage mean to you, Mr. Ellis?” asked Mr. Graham.

“Um…I think…” I looked back at the page again, silently reading it to myself. I didn’t know what the sentences were even trying to say.

“Yes, Mr. Ellis? Cat catch your tongue?”

I shook my head, my face growing hotter with every passing second.

“Please sit down.” He paused, waiting for me to find my seat. He then addressed the class. “If any of you don’t read the assigned work, then you’ll suffer consequences similar to what Mr. Ellis just had to endure. Comprende?”

No one spoke, but the silence was “yes” enough for him. I sat down, not wanting to ever look up again.

Mr. Graham was mean.

Yes, it was true, but his cruelty was a disguise. He wanted us to learn, to soar to new heights in writing, reading, and to understand the minds of the old writing masters. He challenged us more so than any teacher in school, and, as I found through the months of being in his class, his mercenary disguise soon wore off. We could see right through him and soon found out that all the students who took his class before had kept up the charade, just like we did, letting everyone know how terrible Mr. Graham was, and all along knowing his greatness. We did this not because we disliked him, but because we secretly knew that he wanted us to keep it that way.

Then, one day, he told us to get a dictionary. We’ll be needing it, because from that day forward, any word we didn’t know we had to write down on a flash card, memorize it, and turn it in. We’d be tested on it soon thereafter and if we didn’t get it right, we’d go over the flashcards until we did. Why? To prepare us for college and to make us better at writing, reading, and spelling. So, I used the dictionary my dad had bought me all those years ago, eager to gain knowledge, and perhaps some wisdom, too.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t very good at remembering a lot of the definitions, so I found myself getting off track.

And, of course, Mr. Graham caught me on it.

“Mr. Ellis? Where are your flashcards? And, what and why are you writing?” he questioned, standing over my desk.

On that day, I had a sudden inspiration to write a back story about Pappy, Huck Finn’s alcoholic father. We had been reading that book for a week now, and the way that Mark Twain wrote seemed to get my creative juices flowing. The problem was that the inspiration came in the middle of Mr. Graham’s class while we were reading, and I just had to write it all down.

Snapping his fingers, he ordered, “Give it to me, Mr. Ellis.”

I picked up my paper and gave it to him, fully expecting him to wad it up in a ball and toss it at me. Instead, he quietly read it to himself. I remained silent as he did so, wondering how terrible I was going to get it once he was done. He had a knack of critiquing your writing in front of the entire class.

Mr. Graham cleared his throat. “Class, listen up. Mr. Ellis here wants to read you a story he wrote.”

Oh, no! I thought. More humiliation!

Brian, seeing my dilemma, raised his hand. “I’ll do it! I’ll read it!”

“Is that fine with you, Mr. Ellis?”

“Yes,” came my reply.

Mr. Graham handed Brian the story. A smile appeared across Brian’s face as he started reading. I sat and watched the class, seeing their faces change from a serious demeanor to laughter, grins, and happiness. My story had created a change in the room. The once stuffy, quiet room became an audible dose of focus and comic relief. I didn’t think I was a funny guy, but my writing tickled many in the room, not because it was me who was writing, but because it was Pappy, Huck’s dad, narrating a story about himself and his relationship with Huck.

After the story ended, I heard clapping, not from the class, but from Mr. Graham. “Very good, Mr. Ellis. You’ll write these on your own time from now on?”

I nodded a yes, being very glad it was over and that it wasn’t a catastrophe like I thought it would be. When class finished, he took me aside.

“Are you an artist?” he asked.

Not really knowing his true meaning, I thought about how decent of a drawer I was and shrugged my shoulders. “Kind of.”

“You captured the entire class. That’s a good story. You are an artist. Please keep working at it. I’m here to help.”

And, like usual, I shied away from his help even though he continued to tell me, “All you need to do is ask.”

Two years later, I graduated. And, in those two years, I wasn’t a master at writing by any means (I’m still not), but I have never forgotten his words and what he meant to me.

Now, on a side note, and I’ll get back to my story in a moment, but right after high school graduation, Mr. Graham was fired. He was the most brilliant teacher in school, and pushed his students to reach their potential more than any teacher at that school, but he was let go anyway.

The reason still makes me sick to this day.

During my time at my high school, there were several teachers doing their best to rid of his presence from us students. I know this, because I personally knew one of the teachers leading this terrible cause, but I didn’t pay much attention to it, until the cause actually succeeded. I just didn’t know better, nor did I take it too seriously. If this occurred today, I would have been one of the first to stand up for the rights of Mr. Graham.

The thing is, Mr. Graham was gay.

He hid it as best he could, but it was still rather hard for him to hide, because you could just “tell”. Everyone could. It was in his voice and in his demeanor. He never made any sexual gestures toward any male students and he was as professional as any teacher near and far.

For some reason, that didn’t matter.

The problem was (and still is to this day), that some people had very strong personal beliefs, and because so, they had a strange idea that they had a right to judge Mr. Graham to the point that they would need to create an underground campaign against him. If they could exit him from the school, and in a sense, ruin his life, then they would feel better about themselves.

He loved teaching and when he lost his job, a lot of the students were flabbergasted, just as I was. It didn’t make sense. We all knew he was just about the best teacher you could ever have. The words, “Mr. Graham is gone?”, was muttered on the lips of so many of us that summer. He’d been a pillar for the educational system for twenty plus years. And, he was let go?

Some of my old classmates and I set out to find him during that summer after graduation. We didn’t know where he lived, or even if he was in the same city as us, but look we did. And, we failed miserably. We couldn’t find a trace of him. Had we had the internet, it would have been no problem, but in days where the internet was foreign to us, we had little to no hope. When college arrived, we all went our separate ways and started new chapters in our lives.

Then, strange enough, on a gray and rainy day, I found him. Quite accidentally, of course. It was during my first semester in college of my first year in college. I so happened to walk into a pet store at a local mall to buy fish for my aquarium and there he was. When I saw him I wasn’t sure it was him, but when he turned and saw me, his eyes and lips lit up in a smile. “Mr. Ellis!”

I went into my shy mode, my heart pumping wildly, hoping he wouldn’t ask me any English questions.

I stiffened. “Hi, Mr. Graham.”

“Well, it’s great to see you. How is everything?”

“Umm…good?”

“Excellent. Do you need any help in here?”

“Do you work here?” I should have known from the name tag on his shirt.

I could tell he thought that perhaps I was disappointed in him that such a brilliant man would be working in a pet store. Little did he know that I was hoping he wasn’t thinking such a thing, because I truly didn’t think it was a bad thing that he was working in an awesome pet shop. I didn’t judge people on where they worked. It wasn’t in my nature.

I stammered. “I don’t need any help. Thank you. I’m just looking.”

“Well, let me know if you need any help. I’ll be right over here.”

I walked away and looked at the fish, then turned to leave.

“Leaving?” he asked. “It was really nice to see you again, Mr. Ellis. Say hi to everyone for me.”

“Yes, I will. I hang out with Josh still. I’ll say hi to him for you.”

He grinned. “Have an excellent day, Mr. Ellis.”

“Thanks, and you too.”

With that, I walked out of the store, feeling a little uncomfortable at how I acted. I was a little standoffish, and I knew it was because I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed or ask me any smart questions.

Shortly after our conversation, Mr. Graham passed away. He had a stroke.

That also took me off guard and I remember sitting rather still at my parent’s dining room table the moment I heard about it. I didn’t cry, but my mind went over just about every moment I had with him. Heck, I had him for an entire year when I was Junior in high school, so there was a lot to remember. Not all of the memories were happy, but all of them were very important. He was there to teach me and I was there to learn from him. The great thing about his teachings were that I’m still learning from them today–a mark of a brilliant educator.

“We aren’t here to suffer, Mr. Ellis. We’re here to learn. Once you get that down, you’ll start passing my class,” he once told me.

Part 2 coming soon…