Frank Tuttle's Blog, page 14

Mad Science, Creepy Crawly Edition!

Today, we journey not into the realm of the supernatural or the paranormal, but of the very small.

Earlier this week, I was helping my Dad look for some papers at his house when I came across a set of 60 prepared microscope slides I got as a kid. Because, yes, I was that big of a nerd, even back in 1973. The box of slides is pictured below.



The slide set appeared to be in good shape. My old microscope, though, was nowhere to be found.

Having the slides but no microscope presented something of an annoyance to me. True, I have neither seen nor thought about this set of microscope slides in 40 years, but now that I've found the slides, I feel the urgent and entirely unreasonable urge to view them, because how often do you get a chance to see a perfectly preserved specimen of Rhizobium Radicicola, or Mycrobacterium Ranae, whatever the heck they might be?

Now, at this point I really should have just started trying to find a decent old microscope on eBay, or even a modest new one from Edmunds or Amazon. But why do the reasonable thing when you can dive into your surplus parts pile and spend an hour or two building your own gadget?

Aha, quoth I. I will build my very own scanning electron microscope. It will be huge and imposing. Sparks will fly. Thunder will crash. The lights in four adjoining counties will dim, and I'll finally get to wear my snazzy new safety goggles and my 1930s-style side-buttoning lab coat.

But a quick check of the bank account revealed the lack of 80 million dollars in discretionary funds, so I was forced back into the realm of the merely optical, and with only such parts as I might already have lying around at my disposal. I did wear my side-buttoning lab coat when I finally did start construction, but without the sparks and the strong sudden smell of freshly-minted ozone it's just not the same.

But I did build a microscope, for about $14, and it actually works, and below is the proof!



That, ladies and gentlemen, is the rear leg of the common honey bee, photographed with the new microscope. The bee leg was part of the old Sears prepared slide set. Not too bad for 14 bucks!

Below is the rig itself:


Okay. I'm cheating a bit by using my iPhone as the primary optical device -- put the phone on the rig, placing the phone's lens carefully over the rig's primary lens. All that is contained in the top layer of cheap clear acrylic sheet, which is held up and steady by the bolts. The base is a scrap piece of oak, and I countersunk the bolt heads on the bottom so it would sit flat.

Below the top layer and the phone and the lens is the staging layer. See the wing nut in the photo above? There are two of them, and by spinning them you bring the staging layer up or down. And since you sit the specimen on the staging layer, it moves up or down until it is in focus.


Here it is with the phone removed. The lens is between the two bolts on the top. It is held in place by a steel washer.

There's nothing special about the lens. Okay, it is glass, and not plastic, because plastic lenses are worthless. Seriously. I spit on them. I cast aspersions on them. Bah! Plastic lenses are an abomination and I have no truck with them!

I got a dozen cheap glass lenses from American Science and Surplus for a couple of bucks years ago when I was messing with telescopes. I selected one at random, cleaned it, made sure the raised rounded side faced up, and glued it in place. Why select at random?

Because when you have that many buttons to fasten on your starched white lab coat, you don't have TIME for complex calculations of focal length and diopter! This is MAD SCIENCE! If you don't finish quickly the villagers will reach the castle gates, and we all know how that ends. Honestly, it's a wonder I ever a single monstrous body fully reanimated.

Yes, it's a quick and dirty rig that costs almost nothing, but the results are actually impressive. Below are a few photos I took right after completing the device.


Close-up of dandelion bloom (smaller than my thumb). Look at the stamen and the pistils, and all that lovely pollen. I didn't even notice the two ants aboard when I picked it. By the way, they were released into the wild when I was done.


Even more pollen.




Next up, a penny. Here's the whole penny:


And here's a close-up of Abe:


Salt crystals? You betcha!



Below is a burned-out tail light from my father's Toyota. Note the defective filament!


Below is a close-up of the author's skin. Note to self: Inquire about various lotions and healing balms soon.


Nah, that's not really my skin, that'ts tree bark. Here's me:


I took a fingertip image, and then I thought 'Hey idiot, do you REALLY want to post a hi-res magnified image of your fingerprint on the internet? Is that a good idea? Really?' so this is below the first knuckle.

Here's a common NPN transistor, which I'm sure you've all been dying to see magnified:


And below is rust on an iron band.


Ever wondered what dog food looks like magnified 100X? Well wonder no more...


Yeah, I wasn't exactly thrilled either.

For next week, if you can think of something you'd like to see magnified, email me (franktuttle at franktuttle dot com) or post your request in the comments below! If I can make it fit on the rig, I'll give it a shot.

Mama Hog Revealed?I've made mention several times in this blog that Mama Hog, a recurring character in my Markhat series, is based on my grandmother on my father's side.
Her real name was Beatrice, but we called her Grammaw Bee. Not 'grandmother' or even 'grandmaw,' because I grew up in rural Mississippi, and thus she was Grammaw Bee.
Mama's Hog's speech patterns and even some of her appearance were inspired by Grammaw Bee. For a while now, I've tried to find a photo of my grandparents, and I finally located one.
It's a tiny 3 by 4 photo, and it's in terrible shape. I scanned it, enlarged it, and did all I could to enhance the focus and remove the worst of the scratches and pits. It's still not very good, but it's all I've got.

On the left is Grammaw Bee; on the right, my grandfather Henry and his ever-present cigar. Also note the presence of the commanding Tuttle nose, which I inherited. Small children often take refuge in its shade.
Picture the lady with her hair all wild. Remove her glasses. Hand her a stir-stick and a black iron pot, boiling in the yard, and that's Mama Hog.
She was a nice lady. She cooked for an army and knew all kinds of natural cures and neither of my grandparents ever knew an idle day, but they were happy, and I suppose that's all that really counts.
Mug and Meralda News - Is the new book done?Well, is it?
By the time you read this, yes. I'm posting this early so I can settle into what will be the final writing session for the first draft of All the Turns of Light.
Length? A little over 80 thousand words. Do Mug and Meralda ever leave the Laboratory, this time around?
Oh yes. Whereas the first book in the series ( All the Paths of Shadow, available from Amazon) was a sort of anti-quest novel in that Meralda never went more than a few blocks from home, this one takes the gang on a long journey across the Great Sea. There are airships and sea monsters and storms and magical menaces. I believe people will like this book even better than the first one!
By the way, there will be two more Mug and Meralda books after All the Paths of Shadow and All the Turns of Light. When all four books are put together on a shelf in the proper order, the titles will form a poem. And no, I'm not telling what the next two titles are.
So, on that note, I will take my leave, and get back to work. 
But I will leave you with a final image, which I discovered when I downloaded the pics from my iphone. It's not a good picture. It's out of focus and it's dark. But that really doesn't matter.
Below are our dogs Max and Fletcher. Fletcher on on the right. He's old and blind and diabetic, but he still takes care of Max. Some would say dogs are incapable of love; I heave asparagus at such people, and then mock them for their silliness, because dogs do indeed love.
Okay, off to finish the book, wish me luck!

Bonus Monday Blog: Tax Tips for Writers!

(Originally posted 4/12/2012)

Certain eldritch signs portend various significant turnings of the year. Birds fly south. Or maybe north. Frankly I don't spend much time outdoors with a compass charting the movements of waterfowl.

But even a dedicated indoorsman such as myself can observe the anguished faces on the street, and hear the plaintive cries of agony borne on the night wind (and no, I don't know from which direction the bloody wind is blowing, let's leave that to the meteorologists, shall we?).

Even I can see the chalk outlines left by those poor unfortunates who at last cried 'No more, enough!' before shuffling off their mortal coils by way of extreme over-tanning or a full-on single-sitting read of Snooki's 'A Shore Thing.'

And even I know what these grim signs portend -- tax time.

That's right, gentle readers, if you are a citizen of the US, it's that time of year when Uncle Sam takes you fondly by your ankles and shakes you until every last cent you've seen in the last year falls out of your pockets, because let's face it, war ain't cheap.

Now, if you've made any money off your writing in the last year, I'm here to help. Because if there's anything the US government holds dear, it's the idea that every American is free to earn a profit by the sweat of his brow and the set of his jaw. Equally sacred to the American governing psyche is the ideal that they get a slice of that sweet free enterprise pie.

The first thing writers need to know about filing their writing income is this -- FILE IT. That story you sold to Ominous Bathroom Squeaks and Eldritch Attic Squeals Monthly for 15 bucks? That pair of flash-fiction entries you pawned off on Public Transit Funnies, a Bus Station Free Magazine for three bucks and a coupon for $2.00 off any foot-long club at Subway?

Maybe you're thinking 'Hey, why bother reporting that, nobody knows about those!'

And how wrong you are, Grasshopper.

They know. Maybe it's the Carnivore communication surveillance system. Maybe the CIA has an Obscure Small Press Reporting Division. Maybe that mean-eyed old lady down the street is on the phone with the IRS every day, after she goes through your mail and steams open all the envelopes -- it doesn't matter how, but believe me, they know.

So, the first thing?

Report it.

Now if you've made any serious coin you've been sent a 1099-MISC from the publisher(s). You should keep up with these things. I used to put them in a folder and them lose the folder and then move to Mississippi and assume a new identity as Frank Tuttle when I realized I'd lost them all, but then I got married and she keeps important papers in a brilliant thing called a drawer. I'll bet you have some of these drawers  in your place too. Open them up and put stuff in them, it's an amazing time-saver compared to identity theft.

At the end of the year, you take all these 1099 forms, wipe the tears from your face, and enter them in the boxes according to the helpful prompts on the TurboTax software. When the crying diminishes to a bearable level, proceed.

Next, let's consider deductions. The word deductions comes from the Latin dede, which means 'not for,' and uction, which means 'you.' In tax parlance, deductions are money amounts which everyone but you can subtract from the taxes they owe.

For instance, I write on a PC. I built this PC myself, from components I purchased separately, for the sole purpose of writing.  Now, if I were anyone else, I could deduct the total cost of the machine from my taxes owed, since it's a business expense -- but since I am demonstrably me, this deduction does not apply, and, notes TurboTax, 'ha ha ha.'

See how that works? It truly simplifies filing.

Let's look at some other deductions which you, as a writer, cannot claim:
 Home Office Deductions. Oh, you have an office, in which you write? Well, let's have a look. It can't be attached to your house. It can't house a TV or other casual entertainment device. It can't possibly, under any circumstances, be even remotely suited for any purpose other than writing, and it can't be very good at that. So you have a detached office which contains nothing but a chair, a desk, and a PC running nothing but Word? But it has a roof?  'Ha ha ha,' intones TurboTax. 'Trying to pull a fast one, are you? DENIED.'Office Expense Deductions.  You're a writer, and even the IRS grudgingly concedes that the act of writing might in some way involves putting down words on some medium, be it electronic or paper. Okay, this looks promising. You bought a printer to print out manuscripts. You pay for internet service because 1950 was 73 years ago. These seem to be legitimate deductions, so let's investigate further BUZZ HA HA HA NOT SO FAST, TAXPAYER! Those deductions are only valid in years  where acceptable total solar eclipses occur in northern Peru (see Schedule 117863-E, 'Solar Interruptions, South American Totality Table 167-75E, lines 46 through 78), and guess what pal, this ain't it.Other Deductions. Mitt Romney has a 376 page embossed-leather-bound acid-free paper book with gold-gilt edges filled with 'Other Deductions.' Are you Mitt Romney? Didn't think so. Move along.Sadly, that about covers it. You've toiled over every word, you've poured over ever sentence, you've labored long into that good night trying to illuminate a single tiny facet of the flawed jewel that is the human condition.
Or, in other words, you've earned slightly more than minimum wage. 
Bon appetite, my friends!
And for the love of all that is holy, don't miss the filing deadline. 

All the Turns of Light update!

That's Meralda, from All the Paths of Shadow. But Frank, you ask -- why does she look so smug?

Possibly because her new book, All the Turns of Light, is darned near finished. That's right -- I am this close (insert graphic here of fingertips almost coming together) to wrapping this book up.

Of course, that's only the first part of the book's journey -- but it is the most important part, because until the first draft gets written, there's no book.

So, on behalf of Mug and Meralda and the crew of the airship Intrepid, thanks for waiting so patiently, and rest assured the sequel to All the Turns of Light won't be so long in the making.

Things Going Bump in the NightA news story caught my eye, about a very strange trail camera image captured near Jackson, Mississippi, in February of this year.

The deer is looking at -- what, exactly? Two light sources, suspended above the ground. And this wasn't the only image recorded that night. Here's a link to the full story -- http://m.wlox.com/#!/newsDetail/25156516.
What did the camera record? I have no idea. There really isn't enough detail to make anything out, at least as far as I can see. Could it be a night hunter wearing an illuminated cap? I suppose, but there's no way anyone is going to walk up on a deer that knows it's being stalked. 
More than one image of the lights was captured. I still have no idea what was captured.
We keep a trail cam active on our property, just in case Bigfoot ever decides to take a midnight stroll through Yocona. We have hundreds of images, none of which show anything overtly anomalous. Rest assured if we capture anything interesting I'll post the image!
Wolfie reminds you to lock your doors tight!Okay, short entry this week, but I'm dying to get back to work. Take care all! See you next week -- until then, pleasant dreams!

Bonus Monday Blog: My Angry Body

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I'm nearing completion on the long-overdue sequel to All the Paths of Shadow.

Tonight, I had a genuine breakthrough. It was one of those rare moments when the story took hold and tore up my outline and Meralda stamped right off the page and bloody well told me what happens next.

I got it all down, too. Every word. I know where the story goes. I know why it goes there. It's good. Really good. I pushed sweet gentle Meralda too far, and she's had enough, and if she met Rick Grimes in a dark alley right now he'd be the one who turned and dived for cover.

Such moments are rare.

I hastily made four pages of careful notes. I saved that file, and then I turned back to the book file and plowed right in.

Achoo.

Bless you. I barely noticed the sneeze. My fingers hammered away, stabbing the keys of my long-suffering Saitek Eclipse II keyboard like fat, determined sausages.

Achoo.

Hah. I forged ahead, heedless of the growing pressure in my aquiline nostrils, or the tell-tale hints of burning and tearing in my bleary eyes.

ACHOO.

And then it began in earnest -- a full-blown, five-alarm, no-holds-barred Festival of Expelled Mucous which scared Hell out of my assembled Writing Dogs and necessitated an emergency cleaning of my monitors.

My eyes joined the fun, puffing up and streaming tears. I cried more than the front row at a Twilight screening. Tears ran down my cheeks and soaked my beard, and that's never happened before, although I will certainly use it in a book sometime, because having a beard soaked with salty tears is a unique visceral experience.

My nose, not to be outdone, redoubled its efforts. The Writing Dogs exited the study en masse, seeking shelter behind the toolshed and peeking out briefly to see if I'd exploded yet.

My sinuses are, I discovered, unbound by the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which states that neither matter nor energy is ever created or destroyed. Because I created matter, buckets of the stuff, and physicists don't believe me fine, just stand right there.

Then things got really bad.

I sprayed a considerable quantity of something called Flonase up my nose. Look, I'm a writer. But I'm not a famous one, so I still have a day job. I don't have many hours in the day to write. I don't have time for all this sneezy/coughy/teary body function jazz. And this nasal spray seemed confident it could help, or at least provide me with numerous amusing side effect options (may cause uncontrollable hypothermia. Some users report being transformed into werewolves. Occasional hyperdimensionality or time travel may result).

It helped, if by 'help' we mean 'take a bad situation and elevate it to truly epic tragic status.' The dogs have abandoned the toolshed and have placed ads on Craigslist which read FREE TO A GOOD HOME HURRY WE THINK HE WILL SOON BLOW UP.

I've used an entire roll of Bounty paper towels. No, you don't want any details.

My nose, my nasal passages, my traitorous running eyes have turned on me, in the hour of my greatest need.

How? If you took a blood sample from me, my blood type would register as ALLEGRA. I'm careful to avoid the outdoors. I haven't even seen the sun, or natural ground, since briefly emerging from my lair last November to inspect my otter-drawn sleigh.

This is killing me. I shall now concoct a devil's brew of powerful anti-allergens and hope it provides sufficient relief to continue with the book.

In the meantime, here is a repeat post from 5/30, in which I opine about all maters bodily and physical. Please wish me luck in recovering. I do NOT need this now!

WHERE IS MY ROBOT BODY?

REPOST from 5/30
Your body is either a wondrous living engine powered by a spark of the divine or a ludicrous assemblage of evolutionary short-cuts, depending on your point of view.

Having seen myself naked (police video enhancement techniques have shown a marked improvement in recent months), I know where I stand on the whole wondrous construction / meat-based Rube Goldberg contraption controversy.

An injury to my back last week left me thinking about the fleeting and fragile notion of health. Since the injury also left me in a crumpled heap on the floor, I had plenty of time to ponder my attitudes toward wellness in between bouts of cursing and attempts to raise myself by climbing a nearby window-frame.

So, with a renewed appreciation for the simple things I took for granted -- walking, standing, crouching to hide from store detectives, lifting liquor bottles or barrels filled with deep-fried hamburgers -- I'd like to offer a few thoughts on our bodies, and how to keep them healthy.

Your body is a biological machine, powered by food and air, which will give you many years of trouble-free use if you perform regular maintenance, especially routine oil changes. Wait. I got my body mixed up with my riding lawn mower. Let me start over.

Your body is a wildly inefficient hodge-podge of finicky, unreliable chemical processes and damage-prone tissue structures. Even with the best of luck, it's going to start failing faster than a Russian-built sports car after forty years, and probably well before that.

Let's take a look at the major structures and systems that make up the human body:

Might as well pick out a plot....1) THE SKELETAL SYSTEM. Beneath your skin is an appalling volume of gooey wet stuff.  Hidden inside this gelatinous mass of goo are your bones. Each bone connects to another via muscles, tendons, ligaments, and cleverly-hidden wires. This complex arrangement of jointed bones and opposing muscles allows you to wave awkwardly at strangers who you thought waved to you, but were in fact waving at their friend behind you. Too, whereas the lowly ant can only lift a mass fifty times its own body weight, your skeletal system grants you the ability to beg for help opening a jar of mayonnaise. Maybe that stranger has a stronger grip than you do, from all that bloody waving.

The most common skeletal problem is that of having to endure a skeleton in the first place. Face it, used  skeletons wind up wired in humorous poses by bored medical students or spend decades popping out of doors in carnival spook-houses, and even then the things are prone to make a lot of clattering noises and require frequent repairs. Many commercial and medical establishments have switched to sturdy plastic skeletons these days, which is a move you should check into as well.

The human brain.2) THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. Your nervous system conveys the brain's instructions to your muscles via a series of nerves. Given the poorly thought-out nature of most of your brain's instructions, this crude and error-prone delivery system is probably a blessing in disguise, since it gives you time to reconsider flipping off the burly, tattooed Neanderthal who just bumped you in a checkout line.

Humans share virtually all of their nervous system chemistry and neurobiology with the graceful soaring hawk and the surefooted mountain goat, but you'd never suspect that after watching the average person put on a drunken rendition of the 'Mashed Potato' dance at a karaoke bar. Honestly, half the population is likely to suffer minor injury just playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' and the other half couldn't walk across a foot-wide plank without falling if their lives depended on it.

Nerves are composed of neurons, glial cells, and quite a number of other microscopic structures which are wasting their time and effort on a species that still hasn't quite mastered the rhythmic finger-snap.

3) THE DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. Your body requires proper nutrition to function at its best. A quick appraisal of your body's so-called 'best' clearly explains the shelves lined with Cheetos and the presence of a McDonalds drive-thru every sixty feet in the developed West.

You can spend forty years nibbling on nothing but free-ranch kelp and gluten-free naturally-occurring whole-grain tofu and still wind up diagnosed with the exact same terminal diseases as the 400-pound trucker who has eaten nothing but tobacco-soaked gas station burritos since 1987.

Still, you might improve your odds a tiny bit if you maintain a body that conforms to the following simple formula:

Height > Maximum girth.

Thus, if your waist measurement is six feet, remember to maintain a height of AT LEAST six feet. Seven would be better. Eight is just showing off.

Choose a height and stick with it. Your digestive system will seek to undermine your efforts at every turn, but  if you can ignore the aching constant hunger and nearly-irresistible urges to consume the entire Sarah Lee display in a single sitting, you can at least maintain a healthy weight. This ensures your last words can be smug ones.

A healthy heart is a bloated misshapen heart!4) THE CARDIOPULMONARY SYSTEM. Your heart and lungs comprise your cardiopulmonary system. The heart pumps the blood, which passes through the lungs. In the lungs, the blood releases carbon dioxide, absorbs oxygen, and craves tobacco just like it's done day after tiresome day since Prince released his breakout '1999' album.

Much ado is made by physicians and the media concerning blood pressure and the importance of keeping one's blood pressure within certain clear limits.

Regardless of your age, general health, or activity level, doctors have determined that your blood pressure is well beyond both the upper and lower safe limits and you will soon expire unless you:
Switch to a healthy diet by removing all food from your diet.Pester harried waiters with demands that your tablecloth and silverware be certified gluten-free.Lecture everyone you know about the benefits of a Vegan lifestyle.Reduce your body mass by no less than 67% between now and the next celebration of Earth Day.Stop using bacon as both dental floss and chewing gum.By taking care of your heart, you will ensure that Cyborg Dick Cheney has a steady supply of cardiac tissue for at least the next half-century.

Fig. 3, the anterior brachiostatic excretory array. Eww.5) THE BRACHIOSTATIC - ARTERIOPEDIOTIC SYSTEM. All the squishy things not covered by topics 1 through 4 above. Feet, nose hair follicles, ear wax glands, etc. Basically, all the squirming bits of this and ropy parts of that which ancient Egyptian mummy-makers hurriedly sealed up in jars. Because, yuck.
If something goes wrong here -- and it will -- odds are you'll first learn of it in that brief moment between floating above your motionless body and being pulled into The Light. Early symptoms of a sudden demise from brachiostatic complications include itching, sneezing, feelings of calm or well-being, anxiety, hunger, thirst, any sensations of fullness, sounds or vocalizations from the mouth, blinking, yawning, skin, or regular bouts with sleep.
There is a way to keep your complex brachiostatic system in perfect function by consuming a half teaspoon of a certain Greek plant pollen per day, but this same pollen causes rapid, irreversible heart failure. Who says Nature doesn't have a sense of humor?
Really, the best you can do is keep those toenails trimmed so the morgue attendants won't snicker and post awful pics on Instagram.
HEALTH CONCERNS: AGING
From the moment you are born, your body begins to renew itself.

Sadly, your body is no better at this renewal business than it is at regenerating limbs or developing acute night vision. Now, if you cut a starfish in two pieces, each piece will heal and become a really pissed-off starfish, and no one will ever leave you alone with their pets or small children.

But cut off the tip of your pinky finger, and aside from profuse bleeding all that happens is a rapid realization that your Blue Cross insurance coverage is woefully inadequate.

Aging is merely a slow-motion fatal car crash into a rather solid stone wall. You are placed in the doomed car at birth, the doors are locked tight, and the steering wheel and brakes don't work. But take heart; each year, advances in medical science bring us closer to a truly lifelike embalming process.

We really, REALLY mean it this year.HEALTH CONCERNS: DISEASE PREVENTION

Not a flu season passes without dire warnings from the CDC that the current strain of bird flu will wipe all of humanity from the tortured face of the soon-to-be-barren Earth. We are bombarded with media instructions to get flu shots, wear breath masks, and refrain from huffing the missing CDC canisters of experimental bird flu viruses.

This year will be no different, and the outcome will be the same. The worldwide death toll from the latest incurable superflu will be dwarfed by the sum total of all Nerf-related injury deaths suffered while riding atop a rhinoceros at noon on Arbor Day. If this is pointed out, CDC spokesmen will mutter under their breath and hint that next year the Great Unwashed are really gonna get trashed.

The only way to prevent disease is by avoiding childbirth, especially your own. Once you're here, disease is both inevitable and a vital component of our thriving Health Care and Mortuary industries.

You've got to really *feel* the burn.HEALTH CONCERNS: EXERCISE

Use it or lose it, they say. They also say five times five is thirty-six and London is the capital of China, so listening to them is a complete waste of time.

Another complete waste of time is exercise. You can run, you can lift weights, you can practice Yoga every hour of every day for your entire life, but your body will still direct its energies toward devising ways to undermine your efforts. If you run, you will ruin your knees. If you lift weights, you will tear things with cryptic names such as the 'ACLU' or the 'Isles of Langerhams.'

You may forestall this inevitable decay by injecting steroids directly into your muscles, which will make you  stronger, faster, and easily capable of swinging that blood-soaked claw hammer for hours on end while a SWAT team peppers you with rubber bullets.

An alternative to this is low impact aerobic exercise, which consists of rapid-fire channel surfing while seated at an athletic and unyielding 46 degree angle. Additional motion may be added to the workout session by incorporating the chip-dip arm action, or by walking briskly to the refrigerator at regular intervals for another Coors Lite.

Marathons, triathlons, paragons, pentagons, and the Running of the Bulls are best left to the obsessive-compulsive, the rabidly insane, and the Spanish.

Grab your ankles, sailor.
HEALTH CONCERNS: YOUR DOCTOR - PATIENT RELATIONSHIP

Finding a competent, caring physician is an important step in maintaining wellness and a healthy lifestyle. However, you could achieve the same results by engaging in a quest for solid physical evidence of Bigfoot. In fact, that's altogether the better idea.

The modern physician left medical school only to find him or her self buried under a veritable mountain of debt. The only way to ever hope to pay it off is to run patients through their practices at speeds normally reserved for slaughterhouse cattle-chutes. Pharmaceutical reps help out by pushing thousands of pills and saving the poor beleaguered doctor the time of actually listening to his patients, who are by nature a whiny complaining lot anyway.

The modern doctor-patient relationship works like this -- you, the patient, are presented with a bill. You pay the bill. If the bleeding resumes return for another rapid-fire office visit, receive another bill, and this time, a blue pill.

Repeat until wellness or a body temperature equaling that of the ambient air is achieved.

It's just not that hard, people.

The spiders tell me to dance!HEALTH CONCERNS: MENTAL AND SPIRITUAL HEALTH

Many mental health care providers recommend quiet introspection and frequent self-examination as part of a health-conscious lifestyle. These health care providers recommend these practices because that BMW 328i with the 36 speaker Bose sound system and the heated leather seats isn't going to pay for itself, and the usual reaction to any interval of honest self-appraisal is panic followed by weekends in Vegas spent mainlining pure grain alcohol.

An important first step to achieving true mental health is learning to distinguish between the voices of friends and family, the voice of Grolog, Dark Lord of the Underworld, and the voice of Mark, who will be your server for this evening. Honestly, if you can refuse to loan your cousin Theo money, ignore Grolog's suggestions that you emulate the dietary practices of Hannibal Lecter, and convey to Mark your wishes for iced tea, the turkey club, and a side of spicy fries, then you're already in better shape than 75% of the other diners in Chili's.

Spiritual health is best achieved by waiting to become a disembodied spirit yourself, and if you keep ordering the spicy fries, you won't be waiting long, Mr. Unchecked Hypertension.

I intended to end this section on health and wellness with an audio recording of the noises my back now makes when I stand, but the FCC stepped in and I'll either have to skip that altogether or move to and post from Singapore, where the rules are more relaxed.

MidSouthCon 32 Photo Roundup, Herding Bees, and Sundry Other Diverse Ruminations

They're pretty nice guys, when they're not defending the evil Galactic Empire.MidSouthCon32 pics!As promised, I'll shortly post the best of my MidSouthCon photos. There were some great cosplayers in attendance this year, and just wandering the halls watching people was great fun.

Fans of the show Supernatural will recognize the tan raincoat immediately. Yes, that's Castiel! Which shows what power a simple prop can take on, when it becomes associated with a compelling fictional character. It didn't matter that Castiel is male -- when one dons the tan raincoat and the loose tie, one becomes Castiel, to anyone familiar with the show.

Fans of Archer will recognize the ISIS crew, including Pam with her trademark shark puppet! Archer wasn't with them this trip -- maybe next year.


The dauntless members of Expedition Unknown! This photograph is unusual in that the Stay Puft figure was not visible to the naked eye when the photo was taken. Or maybe it was, and what were my eyes doing running around naked anyway?

Not all the attendees were human. I could never get this fellow to talk, but he was rather deft at delivering small packages.

Just say 'Arrrr..."

Steampunk cosplay was popular this year!

Sir Coors of Light, defender of domestic beverages!

And not a single dwarf-tossing joke was made...



















The image above is the lineup for next year! I'll get to rub elbows with the likes of Cory Doctorow and Melissa Gay, which means I've got all year to work myself into a mumbling star-struck tizzy.
MidSouthCons are truly a blast. You meet great people. I always come away energized and ready to plunge back into writing with recharged batteries and renewed zeal. Not renewed veal. I still have awful dreams about that particular incident.
More Pics I thought I'd close today with a few images of spring for my winter-weary northern readers.
Our pear trees are in full bloom. I took the camera outside and discovered the bees are already hard at work, and I managed to capture a few images of them. If you're still locked in by cold and snow, I hope this brightens your day.



Look closely at the sky, and you'll see bees in flight. No, I wasn't stung; they paid no attention to me at all.


Spring is here, and soon all the grey dark days and snowstorms will just be memories.
Meralda and Mug UpdateThe new Mug and Meralda book is still underway at a breakneck pace. I'm going to estimate its final word count at around 80 thousand words, which means I will be finishing it up in a couple of weeks. 
First draft, that is. My plan for the next month or two looks like this:
1) Finish All the Turns of Light.2) Put it aside. Dive back into the new Markhat book I just finished, The Darker Carnival. Get it whipped into shape and submitted to Samhain. 3) As soon as The Darker Carnival is submitted, pick up All the Turns of Light and get it ready for submission. I'm still not sure where I'll sub the new Mug and Meralda. Samhain doesn't do YA, so I'll be considering this question carefully in the next few weeks. 4) As soon as Turns and Carnival are out, start on a new book. My goal for 2014 is to write and submit at least three full-blown novels. 
Will the third book be the long-delayed Wistril novel, entitled Wistril Ascendant? Or will it be something new entirely?
No idea yet. I'm sure something will occur to me when the time is right.
One last thing -- Brown River Queen could use a few more reviews. If you've read it and liked it, please consider visiting the book's Amazon page and dropping a few stars for me!

MidSouthCon 32!

MidSouthCon 32 has come and gone, and as a grinning survivor of the juggernaut that was the 32nd MidSouthCon, I am happy to report it was a rousing success.


The Memphis Hilton was packed with science fiction and fantasy fans of every sort. There were gamers, costumers, filkers, authors, artists, publishers, cosplayers, and lovers of the strange and unusual, all packed into the Hilton with one goal in mind -- to have a lot of fun.

Mission accomplished, because fun was had by the steaming, giggling metric ton. I met a lot of great people. Sat in on some writer's panels that were illuminating and entertaining. I saw truly stunning art, and listened to some great Celtic autoharp music.

And that was just sitting in my truck in the hotel parking lot. Things really got moving once I ventured inside the Con itself.


Did I take pictures? Of course I did. The one above shows three old Con friends who favor the universe of the Doctor. They don't say much, but they do freak out the people on the hotel elevators.
I haven't had time to go through all the photos I took, and that's not going to happen today. What the Con gives in entertainment it takes in strength, and I am beat right now. So I'll just post a few pics and some news this week, and post more later.
The crew from Expedition Unknown was of course on hand, to showcase their paranormal sleuthing skills in panels. In the image below, investigator Tanya Vandesteeg demonstrates a novel use for an infrared temperature gun.  

I was inducted into the Dal Coger Memorial Hall of Fame, and my book Brown River Queen was 1st runner-up for the Darrell Award for novel of the year. Not a bad haul!

I met and spoke with author Kellie Armstrong, who wrote Bitten, which is now a TV series. She was gracious and patient and I hope she returns to MidSouthCon soon. I also met Toni Weisskopf, publisher of Baen Books, and she is also a Jedi Master of Being Cool.
As I said, MidSouthCon was a blast. But it must also be noted I am no longer in my teens or my twenties or my thirties (we'll stop there, lest I discover I am a mummy and vanish in a cloud of dust), so I must now crawl toward the nearest couch in rapt anticipation of The Walking Dead. 
Take care, folks! Buy some books!

Link to The Five Faces on Amazon

Fried Convention Catfish and the Unwavering Stares of Dogs

The above is Primary Paranormal Research and Editorial Assistant Dog Lou Ann, who is giving me her patented 'Why aren't you writing?' look.

A bout of springtime hay fever reduced my word count by half last week. It's hard to simultaneously generate deathless prose and expel a continual stream of violent sneezes, and sadly the sneezing took precedence.

For any other writers out there struggling with allergies, I can recommend over-the-counter Allegra. It knocked the allergies nearly flat, and only reduced my IQ (via the 'antihistamine haze') by about 10 percent. Seriously, the other stuff I've taken leaves me barely able to babble and grasp soft objects. I don't know why, but old-school Benadryl and the like rendered me so groggy I had no choice but to go to bed and wait until October to roll around.

Now I can muddle along, slower but that's better than nothing.

Hopefully the allergies will fade, and I can get back to full word-slinging mode.

Random Eatery Review
I am currently overwhelmed by an unseemly desire -- no, not an unseemly desire, but an unholy craving -- for fried catfish.

And there is no better source of fried catfish in all the land than Old Taylor Grocery, pictured above a few hours before they open. After they open the place will be surrounded by vehicles.

It is an old grocery store, and yes, it looks it. That's part of the charm. You sit on the porch and wait until your party's name is called, and you watch life on Main Street in Taylor, Mississippi amble past.

Inside, the rough-hewn walls are covered with writing. It's a decades-old tradition that people sign their names on the walls (and the tables, and the ceilings) and leave a word or two of home-spun wisdom. Writer Willie Morris left his name there. Prince Charles left his as well, and we are told he found the fried catfish delicious.

Old Taylor has a website, and a menu is available online.  I suggest the Large Fillet Catfish plate, because LARGE + CATFISH.

Alas, I must needs console my aching hunger with, um, let's see -- half a Pop-Tart and what appears to be hummus. Let's hope it's hummus, anyway.

But one day soon, Old Taylor, one day soon...

MidSouthCon32!

If you plan to attend MidSouthCon this year, shoot me an email (franktuttle at franktuttle dot com). I'll be there, dressed as an unremarkable middle-aged human male. I'm taking my camera and will post lots of sweet con pics soon after.
This year, under the SCHEDULE tab on the Con website, you can create an account with a scheduling service, pick all the events you want to attend, and then consult your schedule from your phone or mobile device. No more lugging around dog-eared Con schedule books! No more trying to remember where events are held, or when! 
I suspect everyone but me has been using this feature all along. But if you're another poor Luddite, check it out -- it's free and quick and easy.

A Link for You to Love

One of my very favorite hangouts on the Web is a place called io9. 
Io9 features everything from cutting-edge science news to the latest in affairs of geekdom. You'll find short but brilliant indie films sandwiched between articles about gravitational waves, the latest on SF and fantasy books, and a host of other tidbits too numerous to name. As a source of story ideas, it simply can't be beat.
Do yourself a favor and add this one to your bookmarks. 
IO9 link
Last Words
First, the image I posted in last week's blog (along with the offer to send a free print copy of BROWN RIVER QUEEN to the first person to correctly identify the object) was a brick. A close up of a brick.
I meant to make it really easy, but in retrospect I was so enamored of my new camera's macro function I couldn't have identified the image either, even had I know it was an extreme close-up of something.
So, to make up for that, I'll send a free signed print copy of BROWN RIVER QUEEN to the first person who asks for one in the comment section of this blog. 

If you haven't read any Markhat, here's a good place to start!
Time for me to get back to work. Take care all, and remember -- oh. I forgot.

In Which I Fan the Flames of Controversy and Wax Rhapsodic About Weevils, Pt. 1

This is Petey, another of our rescue doggies. You've seldom seen photos of Petey because even after all these years he retains a stark terror of having anything pointed at him. But with my new telephoto camera, I can be a great distance away and still catch him being contemplative.

Petey has a habit I've not seen before. To amuse himself, he will scoop fallen leaves or soil into a mound. He does this by keeping his back legs planted, and turning in a circle while digging or scooping with his front paws.

Then, when he has built a mound of sufficient height and diameter (he is very particular about the exact dimensions), he circles it, barking and snapping, as though it were animated and moving.

The other dogs just watch, giving each other 'there's one in every pack' canine eye-rolls. Petey ignores that too, because he's made himself a tiny world of pure joy and he's happy in the moment.

There's a lesson in there for me. Sadly, I lack the delicate motor skills and balance required to shape debris into a properly sloped mound. But I'm working on it.

Pond EVP SessionI've mentioned here before that I can't offer any explanation regarding my experience with EVP captures and locations.
All the EVPs I've captured have been in cemeteries. Which doesn't make any sense to me, so I sometimes go to places at which I am relatively sure no corpses are buried, marked or otherwise.
Case in point: one of the small ponds behind our house.

I was there yesterday, accompanied of course by Supernatural Research Dog Lou Ann, and I brought my Zoom portable recorder and my camera.
It was a lovely day, as you can see. I was in short sleeves, a faux-diamond tiara, and my most elegant evening gown, which sadly was not revealed in the reflection of the water. 
I sat down, took the photo above, and held an EVP session while Lou Ann searched the water for poltergeists, selkies, or inexplicable falls of beef jerky.

This was the view directly above me. As I said, it was a beautiful day.
Oh, and one quick note to any paranormal researchers out there -- dogs CANNOT resist field microphones topped with a fur wind-screen. There's a moment of high drama in the recording in which Lou Ann sees the mic, which I placed on the ground beside me, and snatches it up because the furry wind-screen makes it look like a recently deceased rodent or other tasty treat. 
I got the mic back before she chomped down or dived into the pond with it. But it was close, so lesson learned.
I listened to the recording twice, and like all my other mundane locales, there's not the least hint of anything unusual on it. 
But it was fun watching Lou enjoy her swim while the wind sounded through the bare trees.

Writing UpdateThe new Mug and Meralda book now stands at slightly over 40 thousand words. I wish I could talk about it without adding spoilers, but there's no way to do that, so details will have to wait. I will say the single word romance. There, I said it. You may now speculate.


Markhat has news too -- I posted this last week, so if you already know The Five Faces is available for pre-order, or that Brown River Queen is now available in print, skip ahead. 


By the way, if you happen to be a book reviewer and you'd like a free print copy of Brown River Queen, email me! I'm franktuttle at franktuttle dot com, and I'll get you a book out pronto. 
Finally, a few words about maintaining a 2K a day writing habit.
I've developed a twitch in my right eye (that's not a joke). Not sure if it's related, but my left elbow appears to be coming apart like a cheap action figure's molded-plastic arm. And I'm going to need a new keyboard when this book is done. 
But the book is getting done, and it isn't taking years. So my arm can fall off and my eye can turn around backwards in my skull and it'll all be worth it if I can maintain this pace.
I want my new robot body NOW.
Thoughts on Anonymous Amazon Reader ReviewsThere's a petition going around written with the intent of telling Amazon to remove the anonymous book review feature as it currently exists.
No, I won't link to the petition, and I won't mention the particular author who is the driving force behind it. Mainly because I suspect ulterior motives -- what a coincidence, you've got a new book coming out shortly, and it suddenly occurred to you to push a controversial public petition, using your press contacts to drive it. As SNL's Church Lady would say, "How convenient."
The petition cites the actions of troll reviewers as justification for insisting on real names to accompany reader reviews of books on Amazon.
I believe this is a bad idea on a number of levels. First of all, it's pointlessly intrusive. If you bought my book and read my book and didn't like my book, you have every right to say so without showing anyone your ID. I don't need to know your name. Nobody does.
Too, let's say you're a schoolteacher who enjoys bloody zombie horror, or you don't want your elderly granny to know you just gave 5 stars to Ride Me Cowboy, a Tale of Lust, Love, and Little People in the Wild Wild West. You shouldn't have to trumpet your private reading tastes to every search engine on the internet.
Finally, demanding real names on Amazon book reviews is rude. This is just my opinion, but it seems to me that someone got a couple of poor reviews and couldn't abide the mere idea that someone on the internet didn't venerate their each and every word and turn of phrase, and this is their way of making sure that never EVER happens again.
And that's all I have to say about that.
My Private Mars Mission, and a Background Image
It wasn't easy, building my own Mars probe in my shop using only material sold by Sneed's Hardware on University Avenue, but I did it, and the image above was obtained during my probe's touchdown.
Or was it? A free print copy of Brown River Queen goes to the first person to correctly identify the subject of this photograph. Respond in the blog comments section!

This is my current background image. It's a photo I took of the propane gauge on our tank, which resides under a steel hood but nevertheless manages to pick up a lot of dirt and debris. I like it because, um, I've received numerous sharp blows to the head over the course of my life. 
You can download the whole huge image by clicking  here.
Okay, back to work for me! Take care all, and remember -- there only has to be a snake in your hat once to make checking worth your while. 

Things That Go Bump 2014, #2: Vapor Interaction Observation Chamber (aka the Fogbox)

In keeping with my tradition of meddling with Things With Which Man Was Not Meant to Meddle, I've built a new ghost hunting tool. This new tool started out as the Vapor Interaction Observation Chamber, but from now on I'll be referring to it as the Fogbox.

Frank's neighbors express their approval of his paranormal endeavors.That's exactly what a fogbox is -- a box full of fog. Why fog?

Because fog is a suspension of tiny water particles in air. Really tiny particles. Moving them around should be easy even if you're some sort of discorporeal energy entity (i.e., a ghost).

People I know and trust have told me they've been touched, had their hair pulled, felt cold little hands slip into theirs during paranormal investigations. Now, I've never experienced anything like that. A couple of years ago, I'd probably have dismissed their claims as imaginary or contrived. But then two things happened. One, I recorded my own EVP phenomena, which proved to me such events are neither always faked nor always imagined. Second, I got to know paranormal investigators who I trust. If they say they've had their hair pulled, they've had their hair pulled.

From their experiences, I can theorize that some agency (let's call it Agency X because I'm hesitant to use the g-word) is capable of infrequent, small-scale physical exertions on material objects. I don't know by what means Agency X exerts these forces, but let's assume they do.

My Fogbox is an effort to capture any small-scale physical effects photographically. Simply put, you fill the lighted chamber with fog. Then you wait for disturbances within the fog or upon the condensation on the inside pane of each of the chamber's sides.

Here's what the Fogbox looks like in action:



But let's back up a moment, and I'll describe its construction.

I took an 18 inch by 24 inch sheet of clear acrylic sheeting and cut it into two 12 by 18 sheets. I then separated these sheets with three-quarter inch pine stock. The top frame member is removable so the interior of each pane can be cleaned.

So what's all that tubing and the wires and the switch do?

The switch box controls two devices. One is the fan that sits atop the Fogbox. It draws artificial fog from the fog cylinder via the black hose and pumps the fog into the chamber.

The other powered item is the blue LED light strip that lines the sides and the bottom of the chamber. This serves two purposes -- one, to light the chamber, and make any motion or markings on the panes easily visible. Two, it looks really cool.

Fog usually occurs when the air temperature equals that of the dew point, but I'm a busy guy and I don't have time to go chasing fog around with my box so I make my own. You take one part pure glycerin to three parts distilled water. Mix well. Put that in a metal container and heat it. Draw off the resulting fog. Yes, it's harmless to breathe. I originally planned to use dry ice, but you can't get dry ice here in Oxford, so I had to drop back to the old Halloween glycerin-and-water recipe.

Here's what the Fogbox looks like with the fog not heated yet. The metal cylinder on the left, which looks suspiciously like an old coffee can, is an old coffee can in which a frame holds a small metal cup above four burning candles. The candles heat the mixture of water and glycerin. The fan and the tube draws this fog into the chamber.

Here's a shot of the Fogbox getting filled.


This is after about 10 minutes:

And here we are full of fog, and glowing!

A close up of the Chamber:

An even closer shot:


Total cost was about 30 bucks. I used an metal watch box as a switch box and the whole thing is powered by an old 12 volt wall transformer. The fan is a 12 volt PC fan of the 'squirrel cage' blower variety.

I just used what I had lying around; nothing about the parts or dimensions is special.

I think the Fogbox would be best used in a location known for high activity.

My hope is that one day a face will appear in a Fogbox and stick out its tongue before writing 867-5309 on the pane.

Markhat Release News
Brown River Queen will be released in print on Tuesday, March 4! So if you've been waiting for a print copy, your wait is nearly over. Of course the ebook version is available now. 

I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention that a new Markhat book, The Five Faces, will be released in ebook format on June 17. You can pre-order now, unless you want to make me cry. You don't want that, do you? Of course not.
Meralda and Mug UpdateThe new Meralda and Mug book, All the Turns of Light, is proceeding quickly. Is it possible I'll be complete or nearly so with the rough draft by the end of the month?
Yes it is. I don't want to jinx it by saying too much, but it could happen. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
That's it for this edition of Mad Science. I would like to wish a final farewell to Harold Ramis, who brought Dr. Egon Spengler to life and inspired me to do inadvisable things to common household items in the name of Science. 
Don't cross the streams, buddy. See you around.

Taciturn Ghosts and Markhat Release news!

Midway Cemetery, 2014
After capturing a loud EVP incident last week (listen to it here if you missed that blog entry), I returned to the same tiny cemetery yesterday, to see if anyone still felt like talking.

Armor-All the fearless armadillo was there, happily scooting about for tasty grubs. He was a bit more wary than before, though, and he waddled into the woods before I could get a good photo of him.

I spent 22 minutes among the headstones. I also took over a hundred photos, in case any of the spooks felt frisky. Of all those photos, I saw one unusual effect, which is show below:


See that squashed rainbow object at the lower right corner?
I've seen similar images touted as evidence of the paranormal. Sadly, I'm sure this is nothing but sloppy camera work.
Look how the shadows of the headstones fall. It's obvious the sun is off to the left of the image. Which means a ray of bright sunlight entered my lens and caused the prismatic rainbow effect, putting it opposite the bright light source. Nothing paranormal about this.
I did capture a single very faint sound that might be a voice. I'm on the fence about this one, because it is so faint. But listen for yourself (I put a link a few paragraphs below).
In the rear of the cemetery is a tall marble marker for a Mrs. Mollie Boone. I put my Zoom mic atop her marker and left it there for a while. Here's the mic atop the marker. Oh, and that fuzzy bit atop the microphone is a windscreen. 

The maybe-voice occurs around the ten minute mark on the full recording. I remark that the cemetery is peaceful, retrieve the mic, and walk away. As I am walking, I recorded a single very faint sound which sounds like a male saying 'hey.'

It's so faint I've amplified and looped it below:

Hey looped.
Like I said, I'm on the fence with this one. Could be a voice, could be a lot of other things, I suppose.

If you want to slog through the entire 22 minute recording, be my guest. The link is below.

Entire cemetery visit.

I have most of the components for a new ghost-hunting tool I've never seen built before. Hopefully next week I'll have photos of the completed device, or at least the smoking ruin of the prototype. Should be fun either way.

Meralda and Mug UpdateHave I made progress on the new Mug and Meralda novel?
Yes. Yes I have. Fans of the first book, All the Paths of Shadow , will be happy to know that (gasp) Meralda and Mug have left the Royal Laboratory and indeed all of Tirlin. 
All the Paths of Shadow was written to be a sort of anti-quest fantasy novel. Look, I don't have anything at all against quest books. Loved The Lord of the Rings. Heck, I even enjoyed the Shannara books, when I was a kid. There's something innately exciting about a band of misfit adventurers slogging across the landscape in an effort to save the world.
But I'd seen so many quest novels. What about writing a protagonist who likes to sleep in her own bed, likes her morning coffee just so, and has no desire to drive across town, much less sleep in the mud?
That's Meralda. She just wants to be left alone, so she can do her research from morning till night. Of course that's not how her life is turning out, but if I was nice to my protagonists the books would be too boring to bother reading.
I'm trying another new thing with this book by including excerpts from Mug's private journal between chapters. Since this is his private journal, he's even more outspoken in these excerpts than he is in public. I'm waiting until the book is complete to see if these journal entries add or detract from the overall reading experience. So far I think they add a good bit of humor, and yes Mug can write using his vines to hold the pen.
I would post an excerpt here but there's no way I can do that without including half a dozen spoilers. 
I will say this book is a much faster-paced entry than All the Paths of Shadow . Sea monsters may be involved. And storms. And we may finally learn why the Vonats are so dead set against -- well, everything.
The Five Faces Love this cover!
Good news! The Five Faces is now up for pre-order on Amazon. If you have a Kindle (or the free Kindle app), you can order your copy now and have it delivered to your device on June 17.
Pre-order The Five Faces on Amazon
I'm really excited about this book. I believe you'll like it too.
In case I have any readers new to the series, there are 8 Markhat titles for you to choose from. I'm often asked what order they are best read in, so here's what I suggest:
1) Dead Man's Rain2) The Cadaver Client3) The Mister Trophy
Note that it really doesn't matter what order you read the first three tales in. Any order is fine, really.
Dead Man's Rain is set in a haunted mansion. Markhat doesn't believe in haints, haunts, and bumps in the night, but he does believe in greedy relatives and he's not one to turn down a hefty fee. But Markhat soon learns that the horrors lurking in House Merlat might just be all too real. As Mama Hog observes, 'sometimes good and dead ain't good enough.'
The Cadaver Client finds Markhat in the hire of a remorseful ghost, who communicates with him through a little old lady who claims to speak to the dead. The ghost wants his living wife to have a sum of money, but it seems even the dead have more lies to tell than truth.
The Mister Trophy sets Markhat against the deranged head of one of Rannit's Dark Houses. Three mighty Troll warriors hire Markhat to find their cousin's head, which went missing during the War that almost wiped out humanity. Markhat finds the Troll head, but bringing it home to his clients may be a war in itself.
Those are the first three Markhat adventures. They are available only in ebook form individually, but if you prefer print books you can get the print anthology The Markhat Files, which contains all three!
The Markhat Files print anthology
I suggest reading the rest of the books in the order below. Note that each of the following books is available as an ebook or a printed book.
4) Hold the Dark5) The Banshee's Walk6) The Broken Bell7) Brown River Queen8) The Five Faces (available June 17, 2014)
Hold the Dark introduces new characters and conflicts, and sets a story arc that continues through The Banshee's Walk, The Broken Bell, Brown River Queen, and The Five Faces. 
The tone of the Markhat series is a little bit Raymond Chandler and a little bit Nero Wolfe. Markhat lives and works in a city called Rannit, which houses some 600,000 souls. Rannit isn't on Earth; I created a new world for the series, which they call simply 'the world.' 
Think 1930s Chicago, with vampires called halfdead holding most of the money and Ogres doing the heavy lifting. Rannites have ironworks, gas lamps, cannon, and gunpowder. Markhat is an Army vet who earns a living as a 'finder,' which is what we would call a private eye. If you've lost someone, or something, Markhat will search it out for you. For a price, of course. A man has to eat.
What Markhat mainly finds is trouble, of course. Bad trouble, because the bigger the problem, the better the book.
If you'd like to check out all my books, click below. You'll see covers and links to various purchasing options, because I'm A) helpful and B) avaricious. 
Frank's Books


That's the cover for Brown River Queen, which is set aboard a lavish gambling riverboat. The Queen's maiden voyage doesn't go entirely as planned...
MidSouthCon!It's nearly March, and that can mean only one thing -- MidSouthCon!
This year's Con will be MidSouthCon32.  I love MidSouthCon -- it's large enough to attract some fascinating folks, and small enough to meet them.

For instance, here's the gang from Expedition Unknown, the Mid-South's premiere paranormal investigators. They have a website, and a YouTube channel featuring some of their best paranormal evidence. You should check out the YouTube channel -- the EVPs are fascinating.
And of course there are the cosplayers!



This year, Brown River Queen is up for a Darrell Award for best novel. I'm up against some stiff competition, so wish Markhat good luck!
I'm also being inducted into the Coger Hall of Fame, which is based on a body of work and not any single title. The judges cited my short stories and short story anthologies Saving the Sammi, Wistril Compleat, On the Road, The Far Corners, and Passing the Narrows as the basis for my induction, and I'm honored and very proud of being included in the Hall of Fame. 
So, if you're planning on being at MidSouthCon this year, look for me -- I'll be the guy grinning like a fool!