CarlHoliday

Having finished Sourcery by Terry Pratchett, I am interrupting my reread of the Discworld novels. First up is Atomic Adventures by James Mahaffey, B.S. M.S. PhD. It looks to be a fun read into the realm of nuclear science.

Sorry you are having so much trouble with this, but it's really quite simple. Open your imagination. Do not take this too seriously. After all, this is a story about Schtickists, a humanoid breed so excruciatingly funny they can't help being victims of humanoids who can't laugh when they see a dying man literally "kick a can" when he dies.

Thank you for your comment.

Thank you for the comment.

Billy’s POV When I woke up Saturday morning I lay in my bed wondering how long I could stay under the covers until absolutely having to get up. I looked over at my alarm clock and saw it was already seven-thirty. Today was the day that Per said he might come over if his parents gave him permission to do so. Also, Per’s brother Jens said he might come over to rearrange my face because I’d taken a liking to Per. I didn’t know if the threat was still valid because Jens seemed to be a meathe

Today I am sixty-eight. The highlight of the day my son and I went to our local Mexican-American restaurant where I had four chilled Cuervo Traditional Tequilas and two Corona Light Cervezas, an order of shredded beef Taquitos Rancheros with rice and whole pinto beans, and a Chocolate Mud Pie to celebrate my birthday. I didn’t tell them it was my birthday because I wasn’t interested in wearing the sombrero and having the servers singing “Happy Birthday” in Spanish. My writing is focused on my 319 Winesap Lane series. At this point in time Geoff is still celibate as a near elder gay man, Jerry seems to be coming out of his cloud of TBI, Erik is at the school for the blind and will soon be adopted by Geoff, Jamie has a boyfriend named Curt, Billy has acquired a boyfriend named Per, and one of the twins has been isolated from his brother. My other stories that are “On Hold” will remain there for the time being due my diminished creative capacity. I’d like to do more, but there is only so much that I’m able to create in that direction. I’m struggling with the bipolar disorder as I attempt to learn how to play jazz guitar on a cheap Yamaha acoustic. I have an $800 Epiphone Les Paul that I want to trade-in on an inexpensive Fender Telecaster. Of course, I’m going to have to go back to taking lessons. Since we live in East Snohomish County, I’ll have to find a teacher closer to the urban areas in the I-5 corridor. That will, of course, mean I will have to concentrate on my driving to overcome the attention deficit I have as a result of bipolar disorder. Of course, I could just teach myself. It’s been done before, but in all those cases it was accomplished by people much younger than myself. It’s not that I don’t have the tools, it’s that I think I could do better under the tutelage of an experienced instructor. It’s one thing to learn major and minor scales, jazz chord progressions, arpeggios, and innovations on tunes on my own, but to do all that with an experienced instructor who is willing to work with an ol’ fogey who is trying to relive his younger years when he had the chance to be something with a different instruments (alto saxophone, baritone saxophone, clarinet, and bassoon), but stopped learning when he reached a wall and fearing being seen as incapable stopped all lessons and all chances of improvement sounds like a better idea.

Thank you for reading this story and making a comment. I do hope you finish the story and continue on when Will moves to 319 Winesap Lane in Warnton.

It's nice to see Granger once again at see with St. Vincent. I hope to see him in his future endeavors whatever they may be.

Well, at the very least you accepted the warning and haven't abandoned the story, which I do appreciate. As I always say, life isn't always a bowl of strawberry Jello with those tiny marshmallows mixed in.

As the intro to my site states: "Adversity, physical or mental, is a common theme through most of the stories. . . . Characters die here."

A kid as sweet as him has to have hope.

David had his chance at 319, but it seems he's a troubled child. We shouldn't assume he has a future at the house. All we have to worry about is Steve's future. Hopefully, someone will say something to free him from his brother. Jerry will get better, but with TBI better is always a relative condition.

Erik’s POV It’s kind of strange here at the school. I suppose it’s because up until not too long ago I was fully sighted and now I can barely see past my eyelids. The ophthalmologists and neurologists explained most of it was because of all those beatings Mr. Arnold gave me, but the kicker in my case was a bout of asymptomatic meningitis that gave no outward symptoms other than my ever-increasing blindness. In the end, they put me on a general antibiotic and probably saved my life.

I suppose when normality settles upon 319 Winesap Lane the story may just come to an end.

I'm sorry you're willing to take only one of my stories as a total example of all the stories I've written. All I can offer is that I generally don't like to write syrupy sweet stories and it's not uncommon for some characters to die.

I don't think you really want to know what medications take, but suffice to say I suffer from Type 1 Bipolar Disorder and all the manic implications that engenders.

Other than the chapter on the Sunday Supper, each chapter is in the POV of a single character; so, it is inevitable that one character's plot line will appear out order of another character's plot line. For the most part, this story is primarily about the house and its residents.

Thanks for the comment about the story being so dark. I can only speculate that because I have Type I Bipolar Disorder is coloring the story in some way.

I'd say that in the little family of professors at Warnton Dr. Adams is somewhat homophobic, but doesn't let that totally dominate her view of Geoff's professionalism toward his students.

There's always hope Jerry will come out of the clouds and live in the sunshine. Maybe he just needs the right mix of medications to clear his mind.

Billy’s POV Billy awoke in the middle of the night, turned on the lamp on his nightstand, and looked around the room. He thought back to his earlier conversation with Geoff and wondered if the old man was asleep. His mind wandered to yesterday’s GSA meeting when Per Lund came up to him and asked him if he’d seen the latest DVD from Rush. Billy remembered staring at Per and just turning away from the boy. The last thing he wanted at Warnton High School was to be identified as Per’s friend and

Having just finished a collection of Ernest Hemingway's first forty-nine short stories, I'm starting Rum Punch by Elmore Leonard.

I’ve been reading a collection of Ernest Hemingway’s first forty-nine short stories and I finally came to “Wine of Wyoming.” I suppose it’s a nice short story, except for the French dialogue of which there is quite too much. Two of the characters in the story are from France and, of course, speak French quite a bit, even though much of it is broken. But, enough of it is illegible to someone who does not, nor never has, spoken the language of France, Quebec, French Guiana, and other foreign outposts of the Parisian language. I didn’t take French in high school. For some reason I don’t remember, I took Latin, an interesting language, but unless you’re going to the southern valleys of Switzerland where the populace speaks dialects of Vulgar Latin, it’s rather useless. Then in my one attempt at college I decided to take German, but that wasn’t going anywhere because the instructor came into the room on the first day speaking German. There were a lot of us up at his desk withdrawing from the class. Why hadn’t I taken French? Is was the foreign language of the elite? I wasn’t anywhere near that class; they lived across the highway and over the far ridge. Maybe, if I had taken French in high school, things might have turned out differently, but speculation in that direction is futile at this moment in my life. I was lower middle class and the most I could expect was a dream of the impossible. Unbeknownst to me and my parents, I was, even then, bipolar to the extreme. My dream going into high school was to enlist in the Army after graduation and go to the Defense Mapping School and become a cartographer. I like maps so much that I can read them like someone might read a book. A number of years ago I read that people who are so intrigued with maps may fall in the autism spectrum, possibly being identified as being afflicted with Asperger’s Syndrome. I’ve taken a few online tests and for what it’s worth my scores always point in that direction. In the end, I decided not to try to read “Wine of Wyoming” after a few pages. The French simply was too much to figure out. It got in the way of reading the story for what the story was about. That’s the thing about French in American literature. I don’t read Updike because he’s always throwing in bits and pieces of French to intellectually challenge his readers. To me he was a pompous Francophile who belonged in the nearest wastebasket. To others he was a pompous homophobe. Not having read enough of him, I cannot attest to that affirmation. I’ve decided that my next reading project will be a total reread of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels. From my memory of him back before I suffered a massive nervous breakdown in 2004, he was a great read.

There was indirect discussion of Erik's absence from the house in Chapter 15. But, will be appearing in Chapter 19. He lives at the School for the Blind during the week and comes back to 319 on the weekends.

lt's taken a bit of time, but I've finally been able to pull all my teeth with a some rusty pliers and get this story going again. Due to my diminished mental state I do not know when Chapter 19 will be out, but at least there is enough material pending for that chapter.