Quietly slipping back into the (writing) pond, avoiding unnecessary splashing.

I spent the entire day (except for a trip to the dog park and a short practice drive with my boy) sitting on my deck, trying to find my place in my work. Whenever frustration overwhelmed me and I looked up from my keyboard, I could watch the Mallards and Canada geese glide around on the black water of the pond. (Did you know a cloudy sky turns small, still bodies of water black?)

Now that it’s after midnight, I can only listen to the sounds of the creatures that live beyond the deck-rail. Mostly, I’ve been hearing the geese and the easily identified spring peepers, but an unfamiliar frog is calling – actually sort of clicking – from the far bank. An owl – one that is not a barred owl like those that lived near my old house – is hooting in a strange, quavering voice. (Wait … now that I’m paying close attention, I realize there are two.)

Once in a while, the muskrat splashes in the water. I think he chirps to himself as he goes about his business … unless there are two of them here as well.

Last night, I found a quarter-sized painted turtle in the underground garage. When I released him onto a pile of damp leaves near the pond’s edge, I shined the flashlight into the water and saw fat, healthy leeches, quick little water beetles and dozens of silver-swift minnows.

It’s a good pond. One that will help me find my place, I think.

 

The Academy Awards, special effects makeup and the horror genre.

As a child, I was subjected to dozens of gala television events. Think: Jerry Lewis’ MDA Telethons, Dean Martin’s Celebrity Roasts and, of course, The Academy Awards. I didn’t care for such shows – I’d rather have been watching reruns of The Twilight Zone – but in those days my mother had absolute authority over which of the five possible channels would play on the one television we owned. Not only did she enjoy these specials, she wanted to share them with me. Being an obedient mama’s girl, I watched with her for many years, despite my disinterest. I found the Oscars particularly boring; I had never heard of these nominees my mother seemed to care so much about. (Before the age of 15, I went to precisely ONE movie in a theater.)

Years passed. More televisions, and more channels, came into my life. Some of the star-studded specials of my youth stopped production, others switched to obscure channels. When the still-thriving Oscars aired (or one of those early ’80s prime-time soap operas unfolded on the screen) my mother inevitably invited me to join her, but I was old enough, by then, to claim I had homework. While she was busy with her colorful glitz and glamor in the living room, I was free to watch all the science fiction and thriller programs I could find, on the black and white set in the bedroom.

Over time, a funny thing happened. Thanks to those Twilight Zone episodes I so adored, I was exposed to a host of fantastic actors – many of whose names I had heard on celebrity showcases while sitting alongside my mother. (Those TZ guests included: Jack Klugman, Lee Marvin, William Shatner, Burgess Meredith, Robert Redford, Mickey Rooney, Charles Bronson, Dennis Hopper, Buster Keaton, and Robert Duvall.) Watching old horror / thriller movies, on that little rabbit-earred set, introduced me to some additional classic film stars like Vincent Price, Kim Hunter, Jimmy Stewart, Ingrid Bergman, Ruth Gordon and Anthony Hopkins. Ironically, by the time I became enamoured of such performers, the Academy had moved on to presenting awards to a new generation of actors I didn’t know, for work in films I didn’t care about. It seemed Oscar and I were destined to be out of sync.

In my early twenties, I started dating the man who would become my husband. Though neither of us realized it at the time, he was a film buff in the making. About 95% of our dates consisted of dinner and a movie. One of the films we saw together – The Silence of the Lambs – blew both of us away. Not long after we saw it, it was nominated for best picture. Suddenly I cared about the upcoming Academy Awards.

The movie – one of MY kind of movies – swept all five major categories. I was hooked.

Now I see more movies in six months than my mother has seen in her lifetime. My husband’s early tendencies flourished, and he became an passionate cinephile … which makes me an associate cinephile, I guess. We spend the whole year theorizing about which films will be nominated, so that we will have seen them all before we settle in on Oscar night, with a snack-food feast, Oscar-bingo cards and our prediction lists. It’s been fun, but I have noticed a distinct lack of nominations for my favorite genre in the years since glorious 1991.

I’m not really offended. I mean, I loved Hugo, The Artist, Warhorse, The Tree of Life … actually all of 2011′s nominees. I wouldn’t dream of putting something horrible, like The Human Centipede II, anywhere near such quality work. Even the best horror of 2011 – Insidious; Apollo 18; and The Rite (with Anthony Hopkins) - had too many flaws to compete, though their plot-lines were novel, and each had its moments. The truth is, most horror is simply not good enough to be nominated. Which is a shame. Because it can be done.

On the 84th Academy Awards last night, in a brief segment, I learned one of my idols – the special effects makeup god, Dick Smith – received a Lifetime Achievement Award at the 2011 Governors Awards (which is now a separate gala event.)

He really is one of my idols. He started me on the path to my hobby of doing special effects makeup. I've owned this handbook since about 1986. Yes, I will post some sample pics of my work one of these days.

His award got me thinking about the Academy’s treatment of the horror genre. I capped off my Oscar evening by doing a bit of research.

(I already posted one tidbit I came across on my Facebook page ~  Rick Baker’s work, in An American Werewolf in London, inspired the inclusion of a new award category in 1982: Best Achievement in Makeup. If you have an interest in special effect makeup, or film making in general, this clip – in which Rick Baker presents the award to his mentor Dick Smith – is a must see.)

UPDATE: And this tribute, by J.J. Abrams is touching, fascinating and funny:

Allow me to share what else I discovered:

List of Oscar’s Favorite Horror Films (1931 – 2011): 

 

WriMoProg & a brand-new-life status update.

I am completely embroiled in this agony known as preparing to move, so I’ll just take a second to catch you up.

News of the two remaining cats: one is spoken for and the final one – the 9 year old cat my son grew up with – will be coming with us. (When it came right down to it we realized we were too attached to let him go – despite my hatred of tending a litter pan.)

Thanks to a kind comment from Teresa at Mom Grooves, I remembered that I needed to open a new Linky for February’s Writer’s Monthly Progress Challenge. (Yes, it is open now, as of Feb. 7.) Having just conceded (temporary) defeat over at my daily bit ‘o creepiness on Facebook page, I was feeling kinda down about my situation – especially in relation to how it’s affecting my ability to even think about writing/blogging. Setting up the Linky, though, reminded me that I’m only giving up a few weeks to a very big transition. I will have two weeks to work with once I get into the new apartment. I’ve set a goal of 42 total hours for the month of February, most of which will be done between 16th and 29th.

Confession: I deleted all the notifications of your new blog posts, which have been building up in my email box. With luck, I’ll be able to jump back in and start conversing with you again reasonably smoothly. Please know I do miss that time of night when I’d curl up with a cup of tea and read your words. If you think there’s something in particular that I would want to see, would you drop a link in the  comments here? I’ll start there on the 16th

WriMoProg: 1 + 1 = 2/42

 

Off-topic: News on the chickens, the apartment, and other stuff.

I know it’s supposed to be Media Monday, but the truth is I haven’t had any time lately to watch an interesting paranormal-themed film for review or commentary. In these last few hours – which I blocked out for writing / blogging time – I should have been composing something spooky, but instead I’ve been writing a brief chicken-care manual, and individual bios for each of my hens, in an effort to finalize the arrangements for our girls. I received quick responses, so I now have some news about the fate of the chickens.

Our nine girls are to be split into two town-sized flocks. As I write this, two different households are busily planning and building back-yard coops. One flock of four – including Buff the Bantam, whose photo I posted here a while back – will be living with my daughter’s best friend (and her family). The other five – including the giant twins that were partially visible in that same photo – will be living with a family which includes twin daughters! (How perfect is that?)

There are other developments in this unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, process of changing everything about our lives. You may recall we were working on re-homing a total of five cats. Three of them have been spoken for. We have found an apartment that we love and we will be moving in February. There are no new jobs for either of us yet, but we’ve crafted resumes, and the application blitz will begin this week. We’ve started sorting our ten-years-in-the-same-house possessions, and I’m surprised to find that I am enjoying simplifying and down-sizing. That’s all the news for now.

In the spirit of Media Monday, I will take this opportunity to point you to a PBS video that increased my understanding of (and mania for) chickens. It is currently available, via  instant streaming, from Netfix. (Or to purchase from PBS.)

Click here to go to PBS for an overview and ordering information.

If you have an interest in these amazing, wonderful, surprising creatures, this program is a great way to spend an hour. (Learn, for example, about Mike the Headless Chicken and a brave little silkie hen who protected her chicks from a bird of prey.)

—

Last day of January, WriMoProg: 13 + 71 = 84/200 How am I going to set a goal for February?

 

Media Monday ~ Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages (1922)

Title Card: Centuries have passed and the Almighty of medieval times no longer sits in his tenth sphere.
Title Card: But isn’t superstition still rampant among us?
Title Card: And the little woman, whom we call hysterical, alone and unhappy, isn’t she still a riddle for us?

Click image for IMDb's summary, complete synopsis, interesting trivia, etc.

I spent most of this snowy day sorting all of our books in preparation for moving. This was no small task. Upon figuring out how many bookshelves will fit into the new apartment, we realized we had to ruthlessly cull our collection. Of course we want to take along as many as we can, so I needed to physically move great stacks of books from downstairs to upstairs and vice versa – just to find out which groups of books would fit best on which shelves. You see, the shelves that are currently bolted to the walls upstairs will go in the new livingroom, and the shelves that are downstairs will be in our bedrooms. Obviously then, I decided, my cookbooks (31) had to go up and my writing books (79) had to go down – to cite two examples.

Those parenthetical numbers, by the way, are just the books that survived the cull. You don’t want to know how many “groups” we have, and you certainly don’t want to know how many books are in each of those groups. As for me, I don’t want to think about how many of my beloved volumes are now in bags, waiting to go to Half-Price Books when the roads get better.

But I’m supposed to be writing about Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages, aren’t I? There is a connection: I was only able to settle in with a silent movie this evening because I was physically tired from lugging books around. Usually, I knit when I watch TV, but I have a tendency to stare at my hands rather than the screen, which makes title cards problematical. In fact, I have attempted Häxan before, but was not able to concentrate enough to really follow the story that the filmmaker, Benjamin Christensen, was trying to tell.

Tonight, I was able to stay with him. In the process, I was reminded I should set aside my handwork more often, because I do relish the experience of being transported to the early days of filmmaking. My enjoyment was enhanced, I think, by my recent viewing of the 2011 movie, Hugo – which helped me understand the art and craft that went into the films of Georges Méliès – an early and prolific film maker who basically invented special effects at the turn of the century.

Yeah, Georges Méliès is the guy that made THAT film.

Häxan – which was made twenty years later – had plenty of special effects, and I was surprised I found them effective, despite my jaded 21st-century sensibilities. The structure of the film was unusual – I’ve not seen the like before, even in other silent films. It’s a cross between a documentary and a dramatic story, presented in seven sections. One thing that struck me was the appearance of the decidedly non-glamorous actors. We are not used to seeing people who look this … real on a screen. No special effect makeup was required to make these actors look appropriate to the roles of medieval peasantry – I believe the toothless monk really was toothless. Apparently, the movie was quite shocking, in its day, due to scenes of torture and brief nudity. (These are very tame compared to today’s movies.)

The most fascinating section of this silent film comes in the seventh and final act, when the filmmaker, Benjamin Christensen, compares superstitious, middle-age practices and beliefs to those of modern times. Of course, the progressive and compassionate ideas of Christensen’s time strike the 21st-century eye as simplistic and sexist. It makes me wonder how people of the future will perceive the way we currently deal with mental illness.

WriMoProg: 12 + 64 = 76/200

 

Chains of recognition.

The talented, funny folks over at eyelaugh.wordpress.com have included me in this Versatile Blogger Award thing that I’ve been seeing around. It was a pleasant surprise. Eyelaugh is a bright spot in my often dark (by choice) blogroll, and I always enjoy coming across one of their new comics in my reader. (Thanks for choosing The Paranormalist guys!)

When I think about the award itself, I realize that it’s all about the networking. It’s a nice way to share other blogs with one’s regular readers. With that in mind, I’ll follow the rules and offer the award to 15 folks on my list. With a couple of exceptions, I’ll try to keep my suggestions in line with my theme.

Each recipient can do as they please with the award – some folks might not have the inclination to play along, and that’s ok with me.

Before I list my nominees, I should share “The rules for the Versatile Blogger Award”:

1) Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in a post
2) Share 7 things about you
3) Pass the award on to 15 more bloggers
4) Contact the bloggers you have chosen to let them know that they have been selected

Seven things about The Paranormalist:

1. I already have a ‘13 things you’d hate about me‘ list on my Backstory tab.
2. I chose to educate my son at home, independent of a school for entirely secular, academic reasons
3. …and the term “home school” makes me choke every time I use it. (It makes me think of homespun.)
4. My favorite flowers are freesia and wild roses.
5. I adore seafood – well, more specifically, shellfish.
6. I sleep, almost every night, with the TV on.
7. I believe there are very few situations that a hot – really hot – bath can’t improve upon or make better.

Now, my nominees:

First, my Tumblr blogs(?) – I’m not sure they are blogs in the traditional sense, but I subscribe to them via my google reader. I can’t even figure out how to comment on their posts – so I don’t know how I’m going to inform them of my selection. In truth, I still haven’t really figured out what a Tumblr is supposed to be, but I love these images that come streaming at me. (Be aware – in the first two, there is occasional partial nudity in the form of Victorian images.)

• Strange is Beautiful
• Maudelynn’s Menagerie
• Huff’s Weird Blog (This and the next are more traditionally styled blogs.)
• My Paranormal Podcast

Now for the at-least-slightly-paranormal-flavored blogs at WordPress and Blogger, as well as the self-hosted:

• Ghost Cities (these first four are writers to watch, who also happen to write entertaining blogs)
• Hunter Shea
• Grafiklit
• Mark My Words
• Creature with the Atom Brain (horror movie reviews)
• Aden Moss (I haven’t wrapped my head around this, but I think there’s something brilliant going on.)
• My Ethereality (a lovely, historical blog with a steampunk feel)

And, finally, these are distinctly not-paranormal – but I really enjoy the voice / writing / work of the authors:

• Cultivating the Art of Sustenance (hog farming and writing in Michigan, USA)
• Hoola Tallulah (crafting in rural Hertfordshire, UK)
• Commonplace Crazy (free grammar lessons included)
• Sad Man’s Tongue Rockabilly Bar & Bistro – Prague (all things rockabilly, including pinups)
• # 16 – don’t forget to check out EyeLaugh while you’re surfing the links.

That was harder than I thought it would be. I faithfully read other blogs as well, and I enjoy each for its own strengths. In the end – I guess – I chose the blogs which I think might most appeal to you – let me know if you find a new love thanks to my recommendations.

If you are one of the blogs I selected above, and you want to participate:

1.  Download (save file as) the Versatile Blogger Award icon found above, then upload it to your blog in a post similar to this. I’ll be looking forward to your suggestions.

 

Real life is too scary – I want to get back to the ghosts.

My intention was to follow my recent post – I’m going to need a new tagline. – with one more in keeping with my usual topics. (A meditation on why so many stairways seem to be haunted, maybe, or a photo-essay of a local abandoned house.) Instead, I feel compelled to write a bit more about our situation, because, upon reading the comments it garnered, I am beginning to think that I didn’t share quite enough.

We do not want to give up the chickens. If we thought we could stay here, we would certainly count on those reliable old girls to help us out with their eggs.

My husband’s former position (ok – salary), however, will not easily be replaced, and I haven’t held a regular job in 10 15 … since I was a young, miniskirt wearing, single mom, slinging drinks. For multiple reasons, we will be living on a fraction of what we have grown accustomed to – and we’ll be doing it for a good long while. We can’t afford to stay here.

There. I said it straight out.

We are about to experience a major lifestyle change. The positive spin is that the change is one we were very slowly and gradually working toward. It’s just happening before we were ready for it.

We will be moving to a medium-sized town, where there will be jobs (for all of us) that don’t require a commute like the one my husband has been enduring for a decade. We will live in a two bedroom apartment – just me, my husband, a strapping 16-year-old son, an oops-he’s-bigger-than-we-thought-he’d-be dog, and *some goldfish named Chicken. We will enjoy having a reliable internet connection and decent water pressure.

We will miss the stars, and the wild turkeys, and the fire ring, and the … well, lots of stuff – but we knew this phase of our life would end eventually. (The some-day goal still includes a trio of hens in a cute, town-sized coop, but we won’t have a yard any time soon.)

We had hoped that our geriatric hens would peacefully expire before the time for our migration came. Now that I’m sharing how I really feel, I might as well tell you we also have to re-home our two elderly cats. As well as my mother’s adorable but ridiculous pedigreed Persian. (He’s just a yearling, but we reluctantly took him in when she recently moved to a retirement home.) AND we’re worried about the two “feral” cats that adopted our barn because the mouse-hunting was good, thanks to the scattered cracked corn.

I had also hoped that I would be contributing financially to that new lifestyle with my writing. Now I’m worried those ambitions will have to be set aside, again, as I figure out how to hold a proper job.

The truth is, I’m freaking out. I just don’t want to bring too much of that into this blog. My chicken/tagline post was an effort to acknowledge the situation in a darkly-humorous sort of way – the way in which I thought “The Paranormalist” would handle it.

I can tell you right now, it’s easier that way. These upcoming changes are so huge for me that I assume some of my real-world angst and confusion and awkwardness will continue to bleed into my blog, but – mostly – I’m just hoping that I can figure out how to keep writing about my beloved creepy stuff.

So. Next post: Abandoned house or haunted stairways?

~

*The number of goldfish we will have is in negotiation. I was thinking nine, in honor of the hens in our current flock. My beloved is thinking three, in expectation of our future trio.

WriMoProg note: 4 + 40 = 44/200

 

I’m going to need a new tagline.

My first task, when I decided it was time to take myself seriously as a writer by beginning to build my platform, was crafting my tagline:

Finessing Bipolarity. Writing horror. Studying ghosts. All without forgetting to feed the chickens.

That line is attached to every profile, on every social media site I have. I love that line. Especially the part about the chickens. I imagined, when I penned it, that I would always have at least a couple of hens tucked away in the backyard.

Life is full of surprises.

The girls are currently fine, by the way; nothing terrible happened to our little flock of nine. They will, however, be needing to go to a new home – because my beloved husband came home from work in the middle of the afternoon today. Suprise! The economy finally caught up with us. Our only significant breadwinner is officially out of a job.

We’re ok. We’ll be ok. But there are likely some big changes in the future for us – changes that will probably preclude chicken-keeping.

I’m reeling, of course. And I’m wondering what this means in relation to this “taking myself seriously as a writer” business. But mostly – weirdly – what I can’t stop thinking about tonight, is the fact that I’m going to lose my wonderful tagline.

What could I possibly reference that would be as charming as chickens?

I took this last night. (For my 365 photos project.) This is our oldest hen, a bantam. She sleeps wherever she chooses, even between the giant twins.

UPDATE: After a good night’s sleep, I’ve figured out the solution: I will get nine goldfish, then name each and every one of them “Chicken”. Problem solved. Right?

Adrian Andreiadis Dreamstime.com

 

Media Monday: Zodiac (2007)

I’m going to try adding a regularly scheduled feature, or two, to my blog. I’ll start by giving “media monday” a trial for a few weeks. Please let me know if you like it. (And feel free to offer a differing opinion, if you’re familiar with the work I discuss.)

click to view IMDb listing

I watched David Fincher’s Zodiac (2007) last night – for the second time in as many months. (I somehow missed it when it came out.) If you’ve read my post, hot autumn nights and serial killers, you know I have long been fascinated by these predators, but that is not the only reason I love this film. (I also have an unhealthy affection for Robert Downey Jr., who is phenomenal, in this movie, as Paul Avery – a reporter obsessed with the Zodiac killings.)

Be aware: this film is based on the book, Zodiac, by Robert Graysmith, and not all Zodiac experts believe his theories have merit. Still, I think the movie itself is a marvel of compelling acting, subtle humor and deft – if leisurely - storytelling.This is a lengthy work, (2h 37m) paced thoughtfully, which covers at least a decade of investigation – so be prepared to settle in, or to watch in a couple of sessions.

The movie’s official website features a Zodiac timeline that is a thing of interactive beauty. You can also access amazing supplemental information about the art and science of profiling. (This isn’t a “fun” treatment of the subject though. The linguistic analysis section, for example, is quite sad.) From the main page, click “enter the site”. You will need a good connection, or the patience to wait for the videos to load.

It’s worth it.

 

Am I a good social media user, or a creepy stalker?

I’m a little weirded out. See, there’s this guy. A writer. A good writer. And he’s about six steps ahead of me at all times. I feel like I’m accidentally following him wherever he goes. I wouldn’t blame him for worrying he’d picked up a stalker in me.

(Do you think I’m stalking you Hunter?)

It all started when I was a lonely blogger, at a loss as to how to find like-minded individuals in the great-big-blogosphere. I wandered in the void until I found wordpress’ topic search. Of course I typed ‘paranormal’ into the little box. (And chickens into another, and retro into another, and home-school into another … I have an eclectic blogroll.)

But back to Hunter.

A writer, Hunter Shea, came up when I searched paranormal, so I went to his page. Hmmm. Interesting. Oh look, he does some paranormal investigating too. Except he’s actually completed a couple. Cool, a man with experience. I subscribed. I noticed he had a Facebook button in his sidebar – and because I was just starting my own Facebook pages – I clicked that too.

In truth, I didn’t pay much extra attention to him, until a familiar-sounding snippet jumped out at me from his ‘about’ page: “I’m the product of a childhood weened on The Night Stalker, The Twilight Zone and In Search Of. Luckily, I’ve managed to make a love of all things ghostly and beastly into a career.” – Hunter Shea.

If you’ve read my Dark Touchstones page, you might remember seeing this: ‘As a child, I chose to immerse myself in an In Search Of ~ Ripley’s Believe It Or Not ~ Twilight Zone kind of world. I read Nancy Drew, “true” supernatural stories, and any horror novel I could sneak into the house.” – Renae Rude.

Okay, I thought. It shouldn’t surprise me that two horror writers of an age had an interest in the same kind of things when they were kids. No biggie. But I’m going to keep a closer eye on this dude. A few weeks later, he mentioned that he listens to music by Midnight Syndicate when he’s writing. Whoa! I thought I was the only one clever enough to do that. I broke my own rule, about not posting links to my blog into the comment section of other people’s blogs, because I just had to show Dark Touchstones to this guy – we had so much in common. There I’ve made contact with another horror writer. Mission complete.

"Leonard Nimoy really messed us up." - Hunter Shea

Another few days passed. Then Hunter posted that Midnight Syndicate had given him a shout-out at their webpage. (Follow that link. Note that he’s the first author on the list. Now, weeks later, it appears to be a trend.) Wow, I thought. That’s so cool. Good exposure. … if I were a bit further along this road, that could have been me. Sigh. (Didyasee that little bit of envy creeping in? Yeah. It gets worse.)

Of course he continued to promote his new book on his social media sites. Curiosity made me look into his method of publication. Samhain Publishing, huh? ‘Wonder if they are the kind of market I’ll be interested in. Clickity-click. They have Ramsey Campbell?!? Oh yeah I’m interested. I should probably read this Hunter guy’s book … someday.

A while later, on Facebook, he offered to name a character, in his next novel, after anyone who bought his e-book, or pre-ordered his paperback, on that particular day. That’s a little weird, I thought. When I was driving home today I was thinking I should buy his book next Friday. I guess I won’t wait until payday, because – hey – who doesn’t want to be a character in a novel?

(Smart Hunter. Very smart. How many books did you sell that day?)

So I ordered Forest of Shadows. I started reading it – even though I was already half-way through a couple other books – just to get a taste. I thought, This is good. Dammit. Wait!  … I mean, cool, right? … This should be inspiring … if he could do it, so can I. Right? … Oh shit, I’m now officially cowed*. Why did I follow this guy in the first place?

I flipped my e-reader to – Are You There Blog, It’s Me Writer by Kristen Lamb; I needed my social media mentor to sooth me. Sure enough, lesson seventeen – with it’s clear discussion of why we build platforms – snapped me out of my useless envy. (As did my vague memory of Kristen assuring me, somewhere else in her book, that writers aren’t in competition with each other. People can, and do, buy books from lots of different authors.)

Renewed, I decided to spend the evening tackling twitter in a more organized fashion. I began by popping into each blog I read, to look for a twitter handle. I followed everyone I could find. Then I turned my attention to some hashtag groups, where I cherry-picked folks that seemed interesting. Lists were made. Tweets were sent. I followed Kristen’s advice (be nice, promote others) as best I could.

About half-way through this process, something strange started to happen. If you aren’t familiar with Twitter, you might not know that when you go to someone’s profile to consider following him/her, Twitter shows you who (amongst the people you follow) already follows the person you are considering.  Guess whose name showed up on most every page I visited?

Hunter Shea had already been there, done that. Damn he’s good.

I’m on the right track, I thought. Cool.

~

*I wasn’t sure ‘cowed’ was the exact word I wanted, so – as I am wont to do - I went to thesaurus.com. I decided to stick to my first word choice, but the list of synonyms there was awesome.

Secret WrMoProg check-in: 0 + 18 = 18/200