by Glenn | Jan 31, 2012 | General
The people in our novels die a variety of ways. From vampire attacks to blazing gun battles we as authors play GOD by creating fictional worlds and deciding when and how our characters will meet their demise. In the real world though, we have no control, much less any idea as to how our own lives will end. Silently though, we hope it will be swift and painless.
From youth you may remember the child’s bedtime prayer or you may have even said it with your own children and grandchildren: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep…” It’s one of those many things you carry through life as a gentle memory.
I thought of it recently while standing at the nursing home bedside of my mother-in-law. At eighty-seven years of age she had suffered with Alzheimer’s disease the last three years and the disease, now in its final stage, kept her bed-ridden and asleep. Conversation of any sort had stopped months ago. Her eyes rarely opened and when they did, only a distant stare came. Each day she weighed less than before, gradually becoming a mere wisp of the once vibrant woman I had known for thirty-six years. To watch her deteriorate to this physical state, merely breathing, not truly living, was torturous on the family. The next day she passed away. I viewed it as a blessing because her suffering had at last drawn to an end.
In those following days we received volumes of condolences from friends and family. As I read the letters and notes, I was struck hard by the realization almost everyone mentioned a friend or loved one that had suffered with the disease before dying or was presently suffering from it. The disease may physically affect one person, but the outreach of its talons leaves a cruel mark on many.
People die from other debilitating diseases as well. Alzheimer’s is not alone in that respect. What disturbs me is the physical and mental degradation you undergo from these maladies before the end arrives. A once physically active person becomes a prisoner to a bed, no longer able to feed or bathe themselves. A wonderful writer can no longer recall his name much less compose a simple child’s story. A superb speaker grows mute, no longer able to form a coherent sentence. Each of us has witnessed these at some point in our lives, yet we do not want to consider how our own end will be. It doesn’t matter though. We will have little or no control when the time arrives.
Walk through a nursing home, listen to the residents’ moans and let the smells scorch your mind. You will not leave with the same state of mind you carried upon arrival. You will have a sense of guilt about you because the residents must remain while you may leave. But I realized there is more to it. You feel a sense of guilt because you may maintain a degree of dignity about yourself while your loved ones have lost theirs and lay helpless. I was struck by this thought when one of the last things my mother-in-law softly said was “Help me. I want my dignity.”
If I contract a disease and become confined to bed, before I move into a constant state of sleep, I hope someone will recite the bedtime prayer over me. And when the last grain of sand falls in my hourglass of life, all I too will want is to be able to die with dignity.
Glenn
by Glenn | Jan 18, 2012 | General
By the time I was eight years old I had hunted bear with bow and arrow, ridden across the open plains upon magnificent horses, and hacked my way through lion infested jungles. By the time I was ten years old, distant lands were no longer foreign and the world had become my playground. All this and more I accomplished solely through reading without ever leaving my home. As a kid, books were my escape from a quarreling family and chaotic life. It wasn’t until later that I realized how my early love of reading had paved the way for my achievements in adulthood.
Reading is vitally important. Our lives revolve around its daily usage. Pause for a moment and think about the people you know, their stations in life, as well as their levels of literacy. Generally you will find people with high degrees of competency were or are avid readers.
My son was always encouraged to read, and that same encouragement is being passed on to my grandson. Through my son’s thirst for knowledge and my daughter-in-law being an elementary school teacher, my grandson’s reading level will be quite good — but not all children are fortunate enough to receive encouragement or have a father and mother present in their lives for whatever reasons.
I’m a “Reading Buddy.” It’s an odd title, but one I wear proudly. Two days each week I volunteer to go to my grandson’s elementary school, sign in, and go to a teacher’s classroom. The teacher selects two or three students to go with me to the cafeteria where we will sit, read and discuss books the teacher has chosen for them that day. I read to them or they read to me. I ask them about the books and they give me all sorts of answers, some even related to the books. Those little elementary school cafeteria chairs are not the most comfortable in the world, and the pay for being a “Reading Buddy” is zero – but the personal reward I receive is far greater than a treasure chest of gold. Their smiles are my paycheck. And if lucky, I might do something for one of those kids that make a difference in their lives.
There are a dozen reasons why some children may not receive encouragement at home and this writing is certainly is not intended to be a soap box to preach from. Yes, some of the reasons disturb me, especially when it involves parents being more concerned with their own lives than that of their child’s. But there are single parent homes where the parent is often gone, working two jobs to support the family or the parent’s own literacy level may not be adequate to help their child learn to read. And worse, as I experienced today, a child may have recently lost a parent and feels lost in life with little reason to want to read.
Give back to your community. Invest in the future by investing your time with a child. Volunteer to do something with the talents you have. Teachers are overworked and underpaid. They appreciate every bit of help they receive. After all, they are establishing the educational foundation of the children that are tomorrow’s leaders.
A flower needs water and sunshine in order to grow. A child needs love and encouragement to flourish.
Glenn
Note: In our school district volunteers must complete a form and undergo a background check before being allowed to work in any of the schools. It’s another good process to insure the safety of our children.
by Glenn | Jan 10, 2012 | Writing
Review: “Bloodstains” Author: Jeff Mudgett
I received a copy of “Bloodstains” from a friend. My only knowledge of it was that the author was said to be the great-great-grandson of a man believed to have been Jack the Ripper.
As a former law enforcement officer my interest in the psychological makeup of serial killers and sociopaths was heightened by this book. I had read articles, books, watched movies and documentaries, and heard countless theories about the true “Jack.” Nothing seemed of a definitive nature to truly identify the infamous murderer and in all honesty, part of me doubted this writing would be any different. But, I remained open to all possibilities—and am glad I did. I wasn’t disappointed in the least.
In the prologue you are introduced to Herman Webster Mudgett, the great-great-grandfather. History knows him as Dr. H. H. Holmes, the infamous serial killer, yet calling him such does his pure evil little justice as you come to know him throughout the book. In the cover’s photo of Holmes’ eyes you sense he is devoid of emotion. It is the indifferent stare of a man who sets his own boundaries of humanity regardless of how degenerate they may be.
Within the first chapter you realize a dysfunctional chord runs throughout the Mudgett family. Bert, the grandfather, was a man who remained to himself: cold, hard, seemingly without love from his family, or displays of love to anyone. In life he was focused on his grandson, Jeff. Yet never was there outward affection a loving grandfather should have for a grandson. In death, he was only considered with disregard. Other family members have their problems as well, but it is Jeff’s introspection as an adult, his questions about lack of emotions, concerns about his lineage, his odd thoughts and such that becomes our focal point. And it is not until his father presents two boxes, items willed to Jeff by an uncaring grandfather that the true essence of the book begins to be revealed.
I now take absolute care in not writing any form of spoiler pertaining to “Bloodstains.” I state this because the story is well written, each page so masterfully woven with the next that I fear too much information could easily be divulged. But once the boxes were produced, my mind locked upon them, demanding to learn more.
The boxes contain two private journals of his great-great-grandfather, Herman W. Mudgett, aka Dr. H. H. Holmes. The journals are keys which unlock doors of knowledge that have never been ventured through since the beast closed them. And like Pandora’s Box, once the doors were opened, the evil within escapes.
This book is not for anyone with a weak constitution. It is not a graphically written horror story or tainted with pornographic flavor. But it will be disturbing, chilling, and emotionally destructive to the average person innocent of the mindsets and actions of serial killers. I also believe there will be readers who do not complete the book simply because it evokes such a spectrum of horrid mental images.
You follow Jeff’s plight and struggle with his bloodline demon. You begin to learn information which contradicts other writings about H. H. Holmes, about Jack the Ripper, yet you will find yourself nodding agreement that this is plausible and sickeningly truthful. There will be moments of doubt and confusion, and you will wonder about Jeff’s own degree of sanity, but the threads of the story are so tightly woven that soon its full tapestry, however macabre, comes clearly into view.
Could a demon have risen from the entries of a murderer’s journal, infect and disease Jeff’s soul as it did, especially with the writer being his lineage? Such a question is one each individual must answer for themselves. After having spent time as part of a paranormal investigative team and researched related subject matter through the years, I would not cast it all aside as foolishness. After all, the Catholic Church still performs exorcisms.
The presentation of Dr. H. H. Holmes in “Bloodstains” rightfully depicts a man as heartless as Vlad the Impaler, but displays a level of intelligence worthy of acknowledgment in the field of medicine. This acceptance of his dual nature creates conflict with a reader because you want to see him solely as a wrong-doer, not one involved with academic scientific pursuits.
When the last page was read, I sat in silence, debating my new concerns with all the tales about Jack the Ripper. Within the book I had viewed Jeff’s internal struggle with a demon so vile Hannibal Lecter paled in comparison to, and realized once more the mind still retains unexplored regions. I was relieved though that a troubled grandfather at last received his worthy redemption. And when I closed the book, I felt it remain in my thoughts for many hours.
“Bloodstains” is well written—no, it is masterfully written. Jeff Mudgett has bared himself for all to see, whether good or bad, presenting the reader with a turbulent story that allows for personal acceptance or denial. I give this book the highest marks for the depth its journey carries a reader. Everyone has skeletons in their family closet. Unfortunately, some have demons.
Glenn
@GStarkeyBooks
by Glenn | Jan 3, 2012 | Writing
Yes, that is my current status. The holidays are behind us and a new year is here. I’m sitting in my office, drinking coffee and staring at “Willie” (my Labradoodle), wondering what I should do next. Okay, I know my desk is here, somewhere, even though it’s buried beneath an avalanche of papers, business cards, and small boxes. I should clean it. But I also need to play ‘catch-up’ with backlogged correspondence, file some documents, make data entries for income tax purposes, review today’s marketing numbers of my books, and considering I am a novelist – actually work on my current novel. Of course I cannot forget the tribulations of daily life mixed in as well; to-do lists, gym time, car problems, house maintenance repairs, and filling the holes in the yard that Willie dug last night.
So, what comes first? How do I develop a daily work schedule which allows me to accomplish a multitude of tasks? Have you found yourself in this writer’s quagmire? Anyone have a magic answer? If so, I’m open to suggestions.
Recently while reading various postings from writers, I’ve seen a common complaint about having too many websites to monitor, i.e., Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Goodreads, and dozens more. These sites devour a majority of your time with marketing postings and responses to their internal writing groups. Some authors have stated they are reducing their activities on several sites to allow better focus on their projects. I agree. There are almost too many social media activities. Like the old saying goes, “Too much of a good thing can become bad.” But which sites will serve an author best? And for what reasons?
I know I’m not the only one weighing all of these factors in order to find a balance in life. I would love to hear some of the “tricks of the trade” from seasoned writers and everyone in general. Meanwhile, I better put on another pot of coffee because I can already see this is going to be a long day.
Glenn
@GStarkeyBooks
Photo credit: Unknown, Internet.
by Glenn | Dec 29, 2011 | General
by Glenn Starkey.
Television has become as comical to me as it is frustrating. On those rare occasions when I may relax and enjoy a program without the guilt of neglecting my ‘to-do’ list, I scan through the cable channels, pause on one and find myself saying, “Life is not fair.”
Have you taken a serious look at the variety and popularity of shows that are available? I’m always left wondering, “How do the people in these television shows find these jobs?” I know you have at least seen the commercials for these shows. Imagine the various resumes these ‘stars’ have:
“….For years I chased Sasquatch through the forest. Never found the big bugger, but came close. I stepped in his poop one time. I did catch a bad case of poison ivy though!”
“….I was the star of a show where I raced against the clock to gorge myself with plates the size of Texas, overflowing with spicy, fried foods! Some had peppers so hot I could start a campfire when I passed gas!”
“….Before I went to rehab, I was the star of show where I traveled the world drinking and reporting on booze in every bar we could find. I can only remember some locations; most are black spots in my memory.”
“….For seven years my team and I traveled America in search of ghosts. We only found demons though and performed over three-thousand exorcisms. Nebraska and Iowa are safe now because of us!”
There are also other superb shows to choose from such as the rich, irritating housewives from various cities who spend their time arguing and shopping; the twenty young, beautiful women cat-fighting over a single guy who they had never met before yet want to marry because he is their ‘true’ love; and of course, the house filled with cameras for voyeuristic pleasure to watch young men and women connive to be the last person remaining. The list goes on and sounds worse as you define the shows in basic terms. It’s the dumbing of America. Excellent role models for our youth. These stars and starlets will have fine resumes of their careers.
But what about the unknown people who daily star in our lives with little or no recognition or a good-salary spot on a television show? Their work resumes would be simple:
“….I taught school.”
“….I fought fires.”
“….I drove ambulances.”
“….I patrolled the city streets.”
“….I carried a rifle and a hundred pound pack across Iraq and Afghanistan.”
So, the next time I see a television show where a man’s sole job is to travel the world to reel in a monster fish or I see screaming legions of Beiber-fevered teenagers adding to his billion-dollar plus yearly income, I will once more say, “Life is not fair….”
Fortunately, I never expected it to be.
photo credit: unknown photographer
