Nathan's Private E-Journal - February 16, 2014 "My Odd Valentine's Day Adventure" Part- I

Perhaps 'Odd' isn't the right word for this entry, 'Most Unique' would probably be a better phrase to describe what happened this year.  Things certainly didn't go as I'd planned, but at least Lisa is speaking to me again.  She's given me the cold shoulder more than once over the years when I've broken one of my promises.  Heck who am I kidding, she doesn't give you a simple cold shoulder.  That girl can give you a look so cold it would make the iceberg that sank the Titanic turn green with envy. 

In fact we were visiting a zoo once when she shot me one of those looks.  We were standing next to the penguin exhibit, and I swear every bird in the enclosure closed ranks to keep warm like they do during an arctic storm.  Heck, I even tried joining them but they kicked me out as if to say, "Forget it, Pal!  You brought this on yourself and we're suffering for it, now go take your medicine."  

Needless to say I made nice with Lisa as quickly as possible, while preventing a new global ice age in the process.

So what does all this have to do with Valentine's Day?  Simple, I promised to spend it with her and... I didn't make it.  

In my defense I had a perfectly good reason for being two days late.  You see it all started about a week ago...

I was attending a symposium that was taking place in Tromso, Norway, where one of my old Alma Maters is located.  I had attended the University of Tromso - Arctic University about seven years ago, thanks to Otto.  He had told me about their Master's Program in Molecular Environmental Biology and thought it might help me gain some new insights to the symbiotic life form which shares and prolongs my existence.   

He also pointed out that the timing of the classes coincided nicely with the seasonal Polar Nights in Norway, which meant I wouldn't have to compete with the sun very much.  This suited me just fine of course, so of course I quickly enrolled.   

Looking back I can easily say I enjoyed my time there.  Not only were there some wonderful concerts, but also the location of Tromso offered some of the most spectacular views of the Northern Lights.    

Anyway, after the third day of the symposium, I was ready to move on.  I'd already listened to the speakers I was most interested in hearing from and didn't feel like hanging around the campus.  So I made my way into the main city to explore the architecture and other sights Tromso had to offer.  I had just made my way down by the water and was enjoying looking up at the Northern Lights when I heard a familiar jovial voice saying, "Ah, here you are.  I see you decided to play hooky instead of attending my presentation.”

Turning I saw Otto walking up to me.  He was shaking his head and making tsk-tsk noises.  I could tell already by his manner that he had something on his mind, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.  Cleary he had learned of another possible Para-Earth incursion and he wanted me to come along to help make sure nothing came through that shouldn't and vice-versa.

And looking back at that last sentence I realize now that I just zinged myself but good.  In my defense, our latest adventure has left me a little giddy but once you hear what happened you'll understand. 

TO BE CONTINUED...  

****10,000 VIEWS AND GROWING ****

Thanks so much to all who have helped make this milestone happen! I had hoped to hit this mark by the end of two years and here we are! I'm truly grateful

I started this blog with the sole purpose of introducing the idea of a science-fiction vampyre who was truly similiar to the traditional vampires of lore. Nathan tries to avoid sunlight (although he can step out on cloudy and rainy days, and can actually walk in the light but only if he's loaded up on blood in advance since sunlight can dry him out to the point of becoming dust). He sleeps in the ground (because certain nutrients his body needs can only be absorbed from there). And he can shape-shift becoming a horde of rats, bats, dogs, mist, grow wings... but is restricted to how big he can do these things. He cannot make more than what there is of his physical being (law of mass). And of course, he is extremely long-lived.

The blog has been chronicling short stories about his long life and some of the people he has met over the last 150 years such as Mae West

the Marx Brothers,

 

Silent film stars like Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle and Buster Keaton

Ballroom dancer turned heart-throb Rudolph Valentino

And many others he worked with in Vaudeville before they became movie stars, along with others whose lives he's touched such as victims of the Nazi Holocaust and simple everyday people. There are also entries from the supporting cast who allow you to see Nathan through their eyes. Their stories show many sides to him and why he has come to be a guardian angel who has watched over not only them but in some cases their parents, grandparents.

To date there are over 41 short and somewhat longer stories on the blog, with many more to come. I plan on bundling some of the stories next Christmas as an anthology, since there are so many entries on the blog for people to wade through these days.

In the meantime, please share the blog link with everyone you know and then help them to check out Nathan's first full-length novel story "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" where he comes back to his hometown Pointer, West Virginia. He has come back many times but this time its to stay to save the manor he called home from the wrecking ball, as well as the 1000 acres of pristine land which would fall prey to ruthless lumber companies and coal mining corporations.

Its a lonely homecoming, as far as he knows, but someone has been waiting for him to come back. Someone who saw him leave to fight in the Civil War back in 1862 and a year later died in his arms shortly after his transformation which occurred in a Para-Earth where he encountered two strange lifeforms. One which kept him alive, while the other wanted him destroyed... and still does. In fact, the latter has found its way into this reality and is now closing in on Pointer to finish him off once and for all for he's the only force that can keep it from absorbing all the dead in this world, even if it has to make more people dead to complete the job.

You can find the novel both in e-book and trade paperback form at Amazon, Barnes and Noble:

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Allan-Krummenacker/e/B00B1W8TEU/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1

AmazonUK:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/254-1323646-2148415?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=allan+krummenacker

Barnes and Noble:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Allan+Krummenacker?_requestid=362722

For Apple and Kobo readers use Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/1383

Thanks again and stay tuned for more short stories to be posted soon, including some new holiday tales involving Nathan and his extended family. Until then, keep reading and writing my friends.

Nathan and Company Have Just Gotten Their First 5 STAR Review!

The reviews continue to come in for "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" over on Amazon.  Here's what the latest person had to say about our favorite paranormal/sci fi vampyre...

5.0 out of 5 starsDespite its unusual built a flowing and impressive book to read! Recommendable!

By C. C. McKenzie on November 6, 2016

Format: Paperback

I read the first two books in the para-earth series by Allan Krummenacker already. Nathan had made brief appearances there and I, as a reader, was enormously curious how he got there, how his life was and what a character he is.  The Vampyre Blogs: COMING HOME is about Nathan's return...
I'm not going into details about Nathan's life. It would be unfair to other readers.

But I'd like to mention something about the style of the book: Being a vivid reader I have of course read books with current diary entries, be it in "flashbacks" or "explanations of the story line. Usually, the diary entries helped to understand the story I read. This was the first time I read myself through a story built on blog (diary) entries, which I found oddly unusual at first, but then I realized it worked. It worked for the story, for the characters and it developed the entire storyline right before my eyes.

The ability to introduce entire characters to the reader this way - as well as build and develop the as well story as also connections only with blog entries, makes me just say one word: BRAVO! I didn't miss a thing. The entries are fascinating and create an entirely impressive as also flowing book! I can't wait to read more.

Want to read more?  Click on the link below to read more reviews.  And remember, the holiday season is approaching fast and you can pick up a copy for yourself or 'gift' one to a friend.  You can not only buy a copy on Amazon or at Barnes and Noble, for just $2.99, but you can also schedule it to arrive on Christmas day.  So take advantage and start your holiday shopping now!

KINDLE USERS: https://www.amazon.com/Vampyre-Blogs-Coming-Home-Para-Earth-ebook/dp/B01MDO8SLO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1479184225&sr=8-1&keywords=the+vampyre+blogs

NOOK USERS:

 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-vampyre-blogs-allan-krummenacker/1124855249?ean=2940153799605

Nathan's Private E-Journal, April 12th, 2014 : "Fathers and Sons" Part - II

The words "You don't look like your sick or like or in any pain..." echo inside my head as I draw nearer to Ted's father.  

How many times had I heard those words?  And how many times did I want to lash out at the person who spoke them to me?  Of course back then I hadn't changed and didn't have the strength to strike back.  But these days I'm a different man.  The pain and limitations Fibromyalgia caused me are but distant memories, but I never forget anything these days.  

Oh it might take me a moment or two to sort through a century and a half of accumulated memories, but it's all there.  There's not a name, a face, or an event I've been part of or witness to that I cannot recall in vivid detail.  I can even recall things from before I was changed that were locked away in the deepest recesses of my brain, including the looks or hints of disappointment from my father for my apparent weaknesses.  They still sting as much now as they did back then, but I loved him nonetheless.  And now I remind myself that Ted loves his father, so I restrain my impulse to grab the man by one hand and shake some sense into him. 

Instead I stop just before the man and say politely, "Please, come inside with me.  Both of you.  There's some things I'd like to show you."

Without waiting for a response I walk towards the end of the building we're in front of that happens to house my private club "The Crypt".  Behind me I hear Ted's tired footsteps follow.  A second later, his father joins us.

In a few minutes the three of us are safely ensconced around one of the table inside the empty club.  It's a weekday which means the place is not open to the public.  Which makes it the perfect setting for a difficult but heartfelt talk.  Or at least, that's what I hope to keep things.  A part of me is still sorely tempted to unleash a portion of my mist form so I can enter Ted's father and let him experience my memories of what Fibromyalgia feels like.  The old saying about walking in another's shoes may be just what the fellow needs.  Yet, I restrain my impulse.  Ted is not aware of what I am and it wouldn't be right to risk revealing my 'unusual' nature to him by doing something to his father.  Still, if things don't go the way I think they should...

"So what do you want to show me?" Ted's father asks gruffly.  

Staring at the man I quietly take his measure.  Like my own father, he's tall and well-built.  His solid figure tells me he's a man who's enjoyed many sports and strives to keep in shape.  But now I'm sensing something else, deep below the surface... physical discomfort. 

Suddenly, everything becomes much clearer to me.  I begin by saying, "As I said earlier, Fibromyalgia is quite real.  And is it not just a condition suffered by women.  Men have it as well."

"Yeah, you mentioned you have it," the man snaps, but there's a trace of unease in his voice.  "Besides yourself, name one other man who has it."

"Morgan Freeman, the golden actor himself," I reply and wait.  The effect of my words has on him is clearly visible.  Before he can respond I continue by adding, "Michael James Hastings, another actor  who retired because of his struggle with the condition."

Ted's father looks stunned, "He played Captain Mike on 'The West Wing'.  I loved that show."

"Many people have it," I continue, "To differing degrees.  Some can be crippled by the pain, others find different ways of coping through exercise, nutrition, medicines to help them sleep better.  But the bottom line is that its a musculo-skeletal condition with no 'magic bullet' cure.  It's a condition where pain is your constant companion.  Many days you can get through the day, but others are harder.  And some are just so bad you can barely get out of bed."

The man looks at his son for a moment and then asks, "Is that true?  Those days you complain about getting up aren't just because you don't feel like going to school?"

Ted has the good sense to not be sarcastic and simply nods.

His father turns back to look at me.  "How do I know you're telling the truth?"  

"You can look it up online," I tell him.  "It's all there.  There's even sites by these men and others who can attest to how difficult it is to live with the condition."  With that I get up and retrieve my laptop and set it up for him.  As I do so, I give Ted an encouraging nod towards the piano.  Obediently, he gets up and takes the guitar case with him.

Meanwhile I sit back down and watch as his father starts Googling the men I mentioned along with others.  For twenty minutes he says nothing, and I do not break the silence.  I merely wish that I'd had such resources to show my own father, back in the day.   Would it have made things better?  I don't know.  Maybe, maybe not.  As I said before, he did love me.  He just couldn't always understand why I was the way I was sometimes.  

Finally, Ted's father looks up at me with a pained expression.  "Okay, you convinced me.  It's real and men can get it.  But why do you believe my boy has it?"

I answer quietly, "Why can't you believe it?  You mentioned football earlier.  Was that your sport?  Were you simply hoping he'd follow in your footsteps?"

"NO!" the man thunders as his face turns crimson.  Then his expression softens as he explains, "I just want my son to have a chance at a good school."

Now things suddenly become clear to me. "Things are tight, I take it?" I say in a voice so low only he can hear me.

The man nods.  "Like my son mentioned earlier, his mother has Fibromyalgia and can't work.  So it's mainly down to me to bring in money, but she does try.  She does art and sells stuff on the internet.  And she's brings in some good money and we're doing all right..."

"But, the prospects for sending Ted to college aren't so bright," I supply quietly.

"Exactly.  We make too much to get him a Board of Governor's waiver, but not enough to really be able to pay for the classes over at the community college, much less a university."

Just then the strands of a guitar playing fills the air.  It's a sweet gentle melody, played with great tenderness and skill. 

The tune has an effect on my companion who closes his eyes and becomes lost in the tune until the song ends.  

"He's very good," I remark as the final strums fade away.

"I don't question that," my companion replies.  "But, is that going to be enough to get him anywhere?"

Smiling I turn to Ted, who is tuning the guitar ever so slightly.  "Are you up to a little 'Classical Gas'?"

The boy's face lights up as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder.  Meanwhile, his father is staring in shock.  "I love that song!  Can he really play it?"

Before I can answer, the familiar tune starts up with all the speed and skill it is known for.  Ted's father's eyes widen as his son's fingers fly over the strings with precision and dexterity that makes the instrument sing.  

Neither of us says a word until the song is finished, at which point Ted stretches his fingers and massages them slightly.  It obviously took some out of him, but he's grinning from ear to ear. 

His father begins to applaud and goes over to his son.  The two begin having a talk.  A real talk.  And although I try not to listen, I of course hear everything.  It lasts for several hours.  The results I'm pleased to say are better than I'd hoped. Ted doesn't have to give up the guitar.  However, his father does confess his concerns to help pay for his son's future education.  

At this point, I see the first rays of sunlight seeping through the window that peers out into the alley.  Although I'm quite safe here in the club, I'm certain Ted's mother is quite worried about what has become of her husband and son.  

Standing up, I wander over to the pair and casually mention some connections I have over in San Francisco with a certain music conservatory which has a wonderful guitar ensemble.  "I'm certain that if Ted keeps this up, he'd qualify for 'assistance'.  Plus, there's the money he can earn here at the club helping out at the turntables."

Father and son look at me questioningly.  

Smiling I explain, "Your son has helped out as a stand in DJ here at the club on a number of occasions.  I've been thinking about asking him to come on board regularly, provided it doesn't interfere with his schoolwork.  And before you ask, YES, he's as good at that as he is on the guitar."

Ted looks at his father questioningly, while the older man replies, "Let me think on it.  I appreciate what you're offering him, but I've had a lot to take in already tonight.  I'd like a little time to talk things over with my son and my wife."

I nod.  "That's fine.  It's a standing offer.  Take however long you all need."

"Thank you," the big man says and holds out a hand which I accept with feeling.  "By the way, I'm George."

"Nathan," I tell him, "And I'm very glad we had a chance to talk."

"Me too," he smiles and then says, "I think we've taken up enough of your time and we need to get home.  Ted, let's go grab your guitar.  I'm sure your mother will be worried sick about us."

Ted smiles and the two of them head over to the piano where the guitar and its case await.

As I watch them, a part of me wonders what it would've been like to have such a moment of acceptance from my own father.  Then as if in answer I feel a hand on my shoulder.  Turning I see no one's there.  But that's all right.  I know it was real, and who's hand it was.  Some things you never forget, and as I said before I never forget anything.  Especially not my father's way of letting me know when he was proud of me...

Halloween Starts Today With The Release of "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home"

Welcome to "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home".  My name is Nathaniel Eoghan Steward, and I hope you'll be as pleased to meet me and my friends as we are to meet you...  

After two long years of brainstorming, writing, re-writing, editing, and planning Helen and I are proud to present to you all our first collaboration: "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home".

Those who've been following this blog for the last two years will be familiar with Nathan and some of the other characters who appear in this novel, but for those who are not here's a synopsis:

 In 1861 sixteen year old Nathan Steward joined the 7th West Virginia Volunteer Infantry Regiment to help end slavery and preserve the Union.  Before he left home, Nathan promised his sister Isabella that he would not let the war change him... he was wrong.

While serving in the Union Army, Nathan found himself fighting on many battlefields.  But his toughest fight took place on a parallel version of Earth (a Para-Earth) where evolution had taken a very different turn.  Although he managed to get back to his own world, this particular battle left him so altered there was no going home.  For now he needed to drink blood, sleep in the ground, and avoid the sunlight.

Today, after 150 years of wandering the world and touching the lives of others, he is finally coming back to claim his family mansion which has stood empty for the decades.  However, unknown to Nathan, his homecoming will not be as lonely as he anticipates. For someone has bee waiting all this time to welcome him back.

But, there is another who wishes to meet up with him again as well.  The being he faced and defeated in that Para-Earth, back in 1862, has found its way into this world and has caught his scent.  Now it is drawing closer to his hometown, bent on his complete and utter destruction.  For this foe knows he is the only force that can stop it from enveloping this world and its dead...

The book is available in Trade Paperback (including signed), and all e-reader formats.  To get the version that suits your needs click on the link below which will take you to our new Para-Earth webpage.  There you can find all three installments of the every-growing Para-Earth Series.  Simply, choose the button for whatever format you need for any book, and a new page will appear to take your order.

Webpage for the Para-Earth Book Series

Helen and I thank you all for your support and patronage, and promise you all that we have many more stories to tell, involving all your favorite characters from the series, as well as many new ones.   We also ask that you please share the links and help spread the word about "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" and the rest of the Para-Earth series.

Finally, we want to wish you all a Happy and Fun-Filled Halloween!

Nathan's Private E-Journal, April 12th, 2014 - "Fathers and Sons"

I was making my way back to "The Crypt", after having visited my family's plot tonight.  Everything was just as I'd left it a few months ago.  Except for the weeds which I made short work of.  And of course the flowers needed a little freshening up, so I circled the graves and released some of my green mist, which brought them back into a healthy bloom.  

Went inside the mansion briefly because I thought I saw a figure at one of the windows.  A small figure... holding a... never mind.  I didn't find anyone inside, so I headed back towards town.

Naturally, my thoughts drifted to the days of my youth, before I left for the war.  Unfortunately, not all my memories were happy ones.  Mind you I have a lot of good memories, but there are a few involving my father that still sting from time to time.  He loved me, of that I have no doubts.  Heaven knows he told me and showed me enough times, but there were some days when I could see and sense his disappointment in me.  I wasn't always the son he really wanted me to be, but I had limitations that he couldn't understand at the time.  Of course, I no longer suffer those problems these days, but it would've been nice to let him see how far I'd come.

I had just reached the downtown area of Pointer, when I spotted a figure carrying a guitar case I knew only too well.  It was young Teddy and he was looking pretty down as he walked.  Concerned I started to quicken my pace, only to be passed by a car which pulled up next to my young friend.  Immediately, a man got out of the car and started scolding my young friend rather vociferously. 

Even though they're a fair distance from where I'm standing, my hearing is exceptionally keen and I hear everything as if I was standing right there with them.

"I told you it could wait until tomorrow," the older man says in a very annoyed voice.  "But, no, you have to make a scene."

"You were already making a scene by yelling at me in front of everyone, Dad!" Ted shot back.

I wince at that.  Family arguments have never been my favorite thing to walk in on, much less be a part of.  I consider taking a different route home at that point but then Ted's father says, "I told you not bother with getting a guitar months ago.  It's not going to win you any scholarships for college.  Now if you'd get into football like I keep telling you..."

"Dad I've got Fibromyalgia, I don't have the..."

"That's a made up thing, and even if it was real, only girls and women get it," his father yells, cutting him off.

That tore it for me.  Suddenly, the scenery on either side of me blurs and in the blink of an eye I find myself standing next Ted and his father.  

Luckily the two are so focused on each other neither even notice that I've suddenly appeared on the scene.  "Good evening, gentlemen," I say clearing my throat meaningfully to get their attention.

Ted reacts first.  "Oh, hello, Mr. Backman.  I was just coming to return the guitar you loaned me," he says in a quiet voice.

"Whatever for?  Don't tell me you've given up playing?  You're really good," I tell him, mainly because it's true.  But I also know what playing music does for him.  It gives him a way of forgetting about his Fibromyalgia for a while.  Everyone who fights a daily battle like his needs a coping mechanism and I don't want to see him lose this particular one.

"He's not going to have time to be playing music," his father replies, before Ted can speak.  "I appreciate the fact that you let him practice with that thing, but it's not helping."

"Not helping?" I repeat curiously.  "From what Ted has told me in the past, it helps him deal with his condition..."

"He doesn't have a condition, he's just too lazy and delicate," his father cuts in again.

I nod and reply, "It's my understanding he has Fibromyalgia.  Is that not the case?"

"Fibromyalgia, if it exists at all..."

"For crying out loud, Dad.  Mom has it, you said so yourself," Ted exclaims.  

"Of course she has, but it's a condition women get, not men!" his father explodes. 

"I have it," I say quietly. "In fact I've had it all my life, even when I was little.  Growing pains they called it.  Told me I'd grow out of it, but I never did.  It's been my constant companion every day of my life."

Ted's father studies me for a moment and then says, "You don't look like your sick or in any pain."

"Looks can be deceiving," I reply cryptically and take a step towards him.

****TO BE CONTINUED****

Lisa's Private Thoughts - March 24, 2013 "In Search Of... Part II"

I couldn't make out the man's face, or his upper torso, because he was literally buried under a huge pile of crumpled papers.  I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.  It looked so comical, but there was also the very real possibility that this man was injured or worse.

But then I heard the faint sound of snoring, coming from deep inside the mountain of paper, and breathed a faint sigh of relief. 

Yet in spite of my attempt to be quiet, the unseen figure heard me because the legs flinched and the pile moved slightly, but not enough to uncover the man himself.  

Not that it mattered because he spoke at that moment saying, "Writer at work... no disturbing the creative process..." 

"Yeah right," I shot back with a huge grin, "You're getting high off the ink fumes again, Uncle Nathan."

An arm shot out of the pile, pointing an accusing finger at me.  "Hey, I thought we agreed you were going to drop the 'uncle' part."

That made me wince as I nodded, "Yes, we did.  Sorry, I forgot."

"Well don't let it happen again," the finger shook at me.  "Now be a dear and help me out from under all this."

Taking the extended hand I pulled Nathan out from the pile and then proceeded to help brush him off.  "What were you doing under all that garbage?" I asked.

"Trying to overcome a serious case of the dreaded 'Writer's Block'," he replied with a yawn.  "I've been trying to get past it for a week now.  I thought burying myself under all my failed attempts might allow me to sort through them mentally, so I could find a way forward finally."

"And instead you wound up falling asleep," I pointed out.

Drawing himself up to his full 5' 7", which is only an inch taller than me, he said in a dignified voice, "For your information I was meditating."

"Really?" I replied looking absolutely fascinated, "I always thought people who were meditating chanted 'Om'.  I never heard of anyone using snoring instead.  Must be a New Age thing."

Nathan made a face at me and then surveyed the clutter around us and shook his head.  "Unfortunately, whatever I was doing didn't help.  I'm still stuck."

"Maybe you should get white board and try jotting down some steps," I suggested.

"I don't do white boards," he shook his head, "The pen fumes give me a headache.  Although I do have a blackboard in another room, but that hasn't been helping much either."

"Let me take a look, maybe I can come up with a suggestion," I offered.

"Trust me you don't want to go inside that room," Nathan told me.  "I went a little overboard in there."

I rolled my eyes at him.  "You haven't seen some of my friends' bedrooms.  Trust me I can handle any mess you've got."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Just remember, I did warn you."

With that he led me out of the room with the papers and we headed down the hallway to a closed door.  "You're sure you want to go in there?"

"Yes," I sighed in exasperation, "I'm a big girl, now open it."

Nodding, he pushed the door open and I walked inside.

For a moment I thought I'd stepped into the opening of one of my father's favorite shows...

The entire room, save the floor, had been covered in blackboard paint, turning all the walls and even the ceiling into gigantic, fully usable, blackboards.  And every one of them was covered in writing.  I kept expecting Bart Simpson to step out of the corner at any second.  The only thing that saved me from that idea was the fact that none of the sentences or drawings were being repeated.  In fact, the room was starting to remind me of my physics teacher's classroom.  There were always notes, calculations, and other scribbles all over every blackboard in the place.

But now my eyes were really taking in the actual words and I could see Nathan was indeed dealing with a very involved scene.  "How many characters are in this thing?" I asked finally. 

"Too many," he sighed, "I'd brought one character from another part of my series into this one because the plot wasn't going anywhere at first.  But one I brought him in, the ideas came pouring out of me.  Things were going great, but then I started noticing the word count and realized, the book was going to be much longer than I'd originally pictured."

"How much longer?" I asked staring up at the notes he'd left on the ceiling.

"I was already 70,000 words into the story, and I still hadn't reached the halfway point," he answered looking around dismally.  "I've spent so much time getting everyone acquainted, and then exploring how complicated their relations might be, that things kind of stalled in the main story line itself."

I nodded and studied the walls some more and could see just how complicated things were.  "Had you thought about breaking it up into two books?"

"Yeah, but that would screw up the actual plot and I don't think my readers would appreciate it," Nathan replied.  "And quite frankly, I wouldn't be happy about doing that either.  It would ruin the flow of the story."

"I can understand that," I told him, "How important is the character you brought in to the story.  Is he vital?  Or was he just a plot device to help things along?"

"Plot device," he answered,  "Why?  Do you think I should remove him entirely?  He did help inspire a lot of new scenes that got the story going again."

"Yeah, but you still wound up hitting a wall and a huge word count," I pointed out.  "Can any of the previously existing characters still serve the same function to keep those ideas in place?"

Nathan's brow furrowed as he thought about it.  "Actually, they could.  And a huge part of the word count comes from the character I introduced interacting with the others."

"And if you took him back out entirely, would that help the word count?"

"Let's find out," Nathan replied and led me back to the room where I'd found him.

Opening up his laptop, he pulled up two chairs so we could sit side by side.  Then his fingers began flying over the keyboard in a blur.

Now, I consider myself a fast typist, but believe me when I say, I'm like a tortoise in slow motion, compared to Nathan.  I'm almost surprised the computer itself can keep up with him.  

Within half an hour, we've removed all references to the character he'd added and reallocated the plot devices he'd helped inspire, to some of the supporting cast who already existed in the story.  And sure enough, we'd lopped off over 30,000 words from the story, making it sleeker and faster paced.  

By the time we were done, Nathan was looking much happier when we stepped away from the computer and headed downstairs.  "That was a huge help, Lisa.  Thank you so much."

I waved my hand and said, "It wasn't that big a deal."

"I beg to differ," he insisted, "Look, even after publishing a dozen books, I'm still learning about writing.  There's no one straightforward path that anyone can take.  It's a learning process that never ends.  A writer is always discovering something new they'd never thought about before.  The same thing holds true for artists who sculpt or paint.  In spite of all the techniques you know, you always find some new trick or effect you've never tried before that gives your piece a whole new look."

That made me think, about my own artwork and special effects make-up I'd been working with, and I realized he was right.  Creativity is a never ending learning process.  You always want to try not to simply copy what you've done before, but create something new and original that makes people smile and stare in wonder at your work.

-Fin-

****A quick note from the author: The basis for this entry came from a recent experience of my own.  As many of you know, I had planned to bring Nathan into the novel "The Door" which stars several of my other main characters.  I'd been having trouble moving the plot along and had decided to bring him in to help open up new avenues and it worked.  However, the length of the book was becoming too unwieldy and I was finding myself being sidetracked by too many new ideas.  So I sat back and re-examined the story and found that much of what Nathan was doing in the story, could be done by existing supporting cast members, so I decided to remove him entirely from the piece.  

Now, many of you may find this disappointing because you were eager to see him in a full-length novel before this year was out. 

Well then you'll be pleased to hear that this will still happen.  "The Door" is still not finished, but "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" is nearing the end of it's 2nd revision (which is why I haven't been posting here more frequently, it's been a very time consuming process).  Next month I'll be sending it out to beta-readers, and based on the feedback we get, I will do a 3rd/final revision and release the book in October.  So we're just 5 months away from Nathan's debut novel.  As for "The Door", if it's ready in time, I'll release it in December or early next year.

So keep visiting, more short stories are coming soon.  In fact, you'll soon be reading entries by my wife, Helen, who is co-authoring the "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" with me.  I think you'll like what she has in store for you all.  

Thanks again for all your patience and support.

Sincerely,

Allan Krummenacker

****

  

Help Choose The Cover...

I interrupt this story line with a request for help from you the readers.  

The second draft of "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" is over halfway done.  I'll be sending it to my proofreader/editor for a good vetting by the end of the month (provided all goes well).  

In the meantime, I'm facing a dilemma regarding the book's cover.  I've completed the artwork seen here:

As you can tell I did not incorporate the title into the image this time, because I just couldn't make it work with the scene I'd pictured.  I had tried spelling it out in the tree branches but it looked more confusing and hard to read.  So I experimented with a letter-box version seen here:

From there I tried black lettering over the image, which I think is a bit hard to read...

Finally I went with white lettering over the image...

For myself, I've preferred the red letter-box version since the red helps bring out the colors of the artwork itself.  

But I want to hear from you before I make a final decision.  Please leave your responses in the comment section below and I will announce the results during the finale of the current short story.

Thanks for all your patience and support.  The novel WILL be out this October just in time for you to add it to your spooky Halloween reads.