"…his stories are always sharp and compact and interesting." ——Angel Martinez "(One of) the hottest authors in the independent horror scene…" —-Hellbound Books
Lord Alistair Hacking-Cough stared at the assortment of weapons. His face was grim as he perused the rifles, blowguns and even a bazooka leaning against the wall in the Game Room. Many of the weapons were fixed with telescopic sights on the barrels.
The name was pronounced “Hockking-Cogg” but had been misspelled on a land grant from His Majesty James II centuries ago. His Lordship stood six-foot-two with the reddish-tinged mustache of a big-game hunter in a Tarzan movie. He was muscular, keeping himself fit in his middle fifties and he was attired in Khaki shirt and pants, with thick boots and socks ready for jungle duty. Topping off the ensamble was a pith helmet,
And, he was upset. Genuinely anoyed.
“Dash it all!” He exclaimed. “Some of these would work against a charging bull rino, but they would be useless against our current quarry, eh?”
Behind him, a skinny man bearing a striking resemblance to a junior partner in an undertakers firm in an old English movie. Like His Lordship he was dressed in khaki shorts, matching shorts and pith helmet with thick boots and socks.
The skinny man who went by “Clive” shook his head.
We don’t get a call about something like this every day,” Clive said. “This creature has proven to be a danger to the locals. And the pay should be good.”
“The pay doesn’t matter,” Lord Hacking-Cough said. “This creature has proven to be a danger to the locals. It may be the most dangerous thing we have yet faced here in America. Aha!”
He reached into the row of rifles and pulled out an exceptionally long tree trimer with a combination clipper and saw blade at the tip, as well as a laser sight mounted on the rod.
“One can never be too cautious facing a dreaded Kite-Eating Tree.”
Clive nodded sagely, wishing he was in London. Or Cardiff. Or Madrid. Or even Livermore.
—end of part one…
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This exciting story of danger, exxo-botany and lawn-care concludes next week! (Because I’m lazy!) See you then!
Statue of Archimedes who is in one of these stories. (Yeah, the stuff behind him gives him a sort of “My Favorite Martian” vibe!)
Finished (and sent off!) a faux-Arabian Nights Novella I plotted out around 2012 (and may have thought about it earlier!) The 2012 plotting out was my first mention of my nameless “World Of Three Moons.”
Added 500+ words to a story I have already submitted and had rejected so it will fit an anthology call’s wordcount.
Started a few short stories that popped into my head. One called “Making Waves,” inspired by a local incident I’d wanted to write about for years. The other day the story idea jelled and I wrote about three pages of notes. It’ll be “socially relevant” when it’s done.
Decided to turn a recently rejected story into part of a collection about the same character. Partly because anthologies and magazines will be swamped with the hundred or so rejected stories on the same theme! Wrote a flash fiction and a longer story that will fit in nicely.
Wrote some QSF columns, wrote some blog posts/reviews and wrote the weekly and monthly Friday Flash Fiction stories.
Started proofreading through a novella I finally worked on and finished a few months ago.
Just before bedtime one night I stumbled across an audiobook of Nelson S. Bond’s stories about “Horse-Sense Hank.” Hank is an illiterate turnip farmer who is a inuitive scientific genius. Show Hank part of something and he’ll figure the rest out. Laughed in a few places. Dozed a little so I looked the stories up on Project Guttenberg. Read that first one: “The Scientific Pioneer,” from 1940.
Read “Horsesense Hank Does His Bit,” a wartime (1942) tale where Hank and Jim (our narrator) come up against Nazi saboteues.
Read “The Scientific Pioneer Returns,” also from 1940 where Bond’s inept space engineer from the future, Lancelot Biggs, pops Hank (and a few other people!) to the 23rd century to help him solve a problem.
And read “Horsesense Hank In the Parallel Worlds,” (1942) where Hank builds a time machine of his own which doesn’t quite work the way it’s supposed to.
As I said, I laughed a few places in these 80+ year old stories, like when Jim refers to Midland U. as “this football-team-with-a-campus.”
Or the now unintentionally funny bit where Jim suggests calling a detective and says “..if you want to know what happened…why don’t you get a dick?”
Bond was prolific in the 30s thru the 50s and could be light and whimsical or fantastic and aweing or even scary as the mood requires. Here the mood requires a bit of the feel of Damon Runyon.
Finished Beta-Reading a novel by J. Scott Coatsworth that is such a page-turner I want to read the book it’s a sequel to! (400+ pages! Yikes!)
Read Murray Leinster’s short-story “Sam, This Is You.” A funny sci-fi screwball comedy with a touch of Damon Runyon. Takes me back to the world of landlines and phone poles.
Read “The Ex-Magician From The Minhota Tavern” by Murilo Rubiato.
Read Gabriel Garcia Marquez’ story “The Last Voyage Of the Ghost Ship.”
Read “The Circular Ruins,” by Jorge Luis Borges. (Nice double meaning in the title!) These three stories in the anthology “A Hammock Beneath The Mangoes,” edited by Thomas Colchie.
Read “Spell, Book And Candle” by Catherine Lundoff from her collection “Out Of This World.” A collection I THOUGHT I had, but didn’t so I ordered the paperback. Worth it. (My earlier copy is in my jammed-up Kindle, but I like physical books.)
Read some of Mark McCormick’s book of articles “Kansas Matters: America’s Social Faultlines.” Saw him speak (at Left On Read) and got it signed afterwards.
Got a copy of “The Further Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes,” a collection of pastiches edited by Richard Lancelyn Green. Read “The Adventure Of the Marked Man” by Stuart Palmer. A twisty tale, and as I was reading it I forgot it was not by Doyle! Palmer is another favorite author and he emulated his friend Craig Rice for their collaboration of Withers and Malone stories.
Writer and columnist Mark McCormick spoke at Left On Read Bookstore in Wichita, KS Saturday September 19, 2026.
Speaking to an appreciative standing-room only crowd, McCormick spoke about his career, his life and read from his book of articles “Kansas Matters: America’s Social Faultlines.”
His talk referenced topics in the book from history, the covering-up of Black history, MAGA, people he has known and interacted with and working with editors.
As well as his coverage of 1995’s Million Man March and irritation over other media claims as to crowd size. (News reports claimed 400,00. Actual estimates were around 670,000 to over 1.1 million people.)
He had the rapt attention of the audience and took questions afterwards.
Skid and T’amec weren’t too worried. Their jobs at the Food Garden Court (“Slinging meat and pouring broth,” as Skid said) weren’t really the type of employment that offered job security. Plenty of hours but still part time work as far as the company was concerned. And whatever labor dispute was going on in the Mall it wasn’t going to affect them, at least not badly.
“Long as I don’t get fired, demoted or turned into anything,” one of the other employees had said.
It had all hit a couple of weeks earlier. Mall Management had gotten notice from “those who claim domicile” over the property that their lease was up. Negotiations were underway and at the very least the Mall would be under new management. At worst, everybody would be evicted. Or something in between.
The Mall Manager, Mr. P’maced, had dropped by the Food Garden Court for a cup of broth and had muttered “It’s no fun negotiating with Elves.”
T’amec had never actually seen an Elf before. Skid had, and warned him “they don’t like to be called ‘Elves.’”
“I’ll remember that,” T’amec said, busy replacing one of the empty pans out front with a pan of meat. “I gotta admit, if this place goes down the tubes, I’m not gonna be too upset.”
“Yeah.” Skid said. “No advancement. Not much in the way of raises. Just glad my rent’s so cheap.”
“Yeah, and I’m glad I can help you with that.” Skid said. “I have nothing better to spend my money on.”
They both laughed. Skid had been sleeping over at T’amec’s cramped little apartment a few blocks away and they’d been getting carry out from all the Mall food places instead of cooking.
“I cook all day, I don’t wanna do it when I get home.” T’amec had said.
The two twenty-somethings were still hanging onto the idea that they were just really good friends, despite snuggling up to each other in the dark in bed. T’amec was tall with grubby blondish hair and Skid was short with darker hair. Skid hadn’t officially moved in but he was helping pay some of the bills, despite still living with his Mom and Dad.
Anton Cardo, the kid who worked at the Augury Shop in the Mall walked up and ordered meat with broth. He was dressed in the long dark robes that he wore when being professional as opposed to his usual slacks and t-shirt with the shop logo.
“Heard anything?” Skid asked.
“Sort of.” Anton said. “Mrs. DuPass in the scrying shop,” he glanced at the upper level of the Mall, “told my boss she’s been eavesdropping on the negotiations in her crystal ball. Not going that well.”
Skid shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not surprised.”
“Part of it has to do with the layout of the back service corridors,” Anton said. “They say it is the same as one of their mines that used to be here so it’s disrupting skinetic fields or something like that.”
Skid didn’t spend a lot of time in the service corridors. Their storeroom was right inside the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and he always wondered what might be lurking down at the end. And had no desire to fined out.
“Here you go,” Skid said, handing Anton his order. Then, glancing around quickly he added “On the house.”
“Hey, thanks!” Anton said. He started to walk away then turned and said; “Mrs. DuPass would say that’s an omen that the Mall is going to go under.”
Skid and T’amec glanced at each other and shrugged.
The next day, Skid and T’amec opened up the Food Garden Court as usual when one of the Security Guards walked up and told them about some excitement the previous night.
“Two of the Elves hopped over there to Sand Witches and placed an order,” he said. “Sat right on the ledge where they set the food trays. Bunch of sandwiches with a lot of tomatoes and peppers and specified ‘No metal utensils.’ Apparantly the metal furnishings in the head office offended them or something. You know how Elves are.”
Skid and T’amec weren’t exactly sure how Elves were but they were glad they hadn’t waited on them. them. Too much could go wrong.
The Guard pulled out his phone. “This was caught by the security cameras. Look.”
He showed Skid and T’amec the picture on the screen. The familiar ledge at Sand Witches, like the ones around Food Garden Court with two small, rounded dark figures standing there, no bigger than T’amec’s head. One seemingly carrying a book, one in a hat.
“The cameras couldn’t get a good picture of them of course,” the Guard said.
A lot of things in the Mall didn’t even show up on video.
“Uh, how’d they get their order back with them, or did they eat it there?” Skid asked.
“Two of the Corporate Vice Presidents came with them and carried the two trays piled with wrapped sandwiches and onion dip back to the offices.”
Regardless of what was going on back in the offices, the next day went a lot like any other day in the Mall, except for the feeling of uncertain tension that filled the air until late afternoon.
T’amec noticed it first. The Mall was getting quiet. He called for Skid who was back in the kitchen. Skid came out, wiping his hands on his apron.
“What do you need…” Skid started to say. Then he stared. Just like everybody in the Mall was stopping and staring.
A huge goose, about T’amec’s size had slowly waddled down the length of the Mall and stopped in front of Food Garden court.
“Just a bowl of that noodle broth,” the goose said in a familiar voice.
“Mr. P’maced?” T’amec managed to say.
“Yeah,” the goose said. “The Elves got mad. But we did negotiate an upgrade on the lease. But some things were said…”
The goose shook all over, letting a few feathers fall to the ground.
“Uh, here…” Skid said, handing the goose a cupfull of the noodle broth.
“Thanks,” the goose said. “But you’d better put it out here on the floor. And I’m going to the Augury shop after this, to see what they can do about this.”
“Will that be, uh, cash or charge?” T’amec said as Skid rushed outside the store with the broth.
“Not sure where my wallet is,” the goose said, nibbling at the broth. “Or my clothes, come to think of it.” He laughed, a sudden loud, honking laugh. “Tell you what, put it all on my bill!”
L to R: Ethan Mowery and Steven Brown in Austin Schwartz’s “Chekhov.”
Reviewed by Jeff Baker
Newman University in Wichita presented two short plays written and directed by Alumni: Brenden Schwartz and his twin brother Austin Schwartz, under the umbrella title “Honoring Playwrights.”
The first: Brenden Schwartz’s “Looking For Direction” features Joseph Kiley as the Irish playwright Samuel Beckett and recreates a time in his life when Beckett was living in France and driving kids to school. On this drive, he shoots the breeze with eleven-year-old student Andre (Daniel Cubias) as they discuss the game of cricket, directions (they get lost) and life in general. This gives Beckett a chance to expound a bit on life and meaning and literature and we can almost see lightbulbs going off over his head.
As they are in a car for most of the play, movement is conveyed by offstage sound effects and the clever bit of shining a red light on the actors when they come to a red light and a green one when the traffic light changes.
And the double meaning of the title is marvelous!
Most of the characters in the plays were actual historical persons and young Andre would (in later years) recall his rides with Beckett and remember that they usually happily discussed cricket.
And I about fell over when I looked up young Andre Roussimoff and found out what he did in later life!
In Austin Schwartz’s “Chekhov,” we see the last days of Anton Chekhov as he is dying of T.B.
Harrowingly played by Steven Brown, he tells visiting writer Ivan Bunin (Ethan Mowery) that he’s getting better, talks a bit about literature (including his famous dictum that a gun introduced in Scene One must be fired by the end of the play) and insists that a writer must live life and not just live literature.
The acting in both was flawless and I got caught up in the stories. The direction was perfect and near-invisible with every instant of the action and dialogue feeling natural and spontaneous, and the touches like the traffic lights and offstage sound added and did not detract or distract.
I was so caught up in the fictions that I told Steven Brown afterward that I almost worried about shaking his hand after watching his hacking and coughing onstage in the final throes of T.B.
The two plays together take just under an hour to perform and this is an evening’s entertainment that is well worth the playgoer’s time.
Additional performances at Newman University, 3100 McCormick in the Jabara Flexible Theater September 18th and 19th at 7:00pm.
L to R: Joseph Kiley and Daniel Cubias in Brenden Schwartz’s “Looking For Direction.”
They’re Still My Favorite Martians #4 Home Schtick
Reviewed and Analyzed by Jeff Baker
In this episode of Filmation’s 1973 cartoon “My Favorite Martians,” Andy has about had it with Earth. He’s homesick for Mars (“You should see those Harvest Moons. Both of them!”) So after school, Katy takes them to the local malt shop. (A Malt Shop is a required feature of towns in these cartoons.) There are some Martian antics along with the annoying Brad Brennan and his pet chimp Chump, and then Uncle Martin calls Andy telepatically “…on Martian Telepathic Channel 23…” to tell him dinner is ready and they need to get home.
Sending telepathic messages would have saved a lot of trouble in the original series but that was used mainly in the pilot and they went with just mind-reading in most other episodes. Another way the animated series improved on the original.
Andy and Katy take the long way home to give nosy obnoxious Brad the slip. (“Amatuer flatfoot Brad is tailing us again,” Andy says. “Why don’t we have a little fun with Brad and Chump?” he suggests.) There are some fun Martian gimmicks, including a bit with Andy and Katy walking off and leaving their shadows behind on the wall which Brad is watching from around the corner. A bit that would not have been easy for the original show to do.
Grounded for being late, Andy decides to use the spaceship to take off for Mars “…and never come back.” Katy, usually a beacon of common sense decides to go right along with him. And here’s another plot hole; neither of them considers that the space ship is still under repair and may not be ready for a return trip.
In the meantime there are some fun visuals as Uncle Martin goes out to the garage, whose door perpetually is stuck and won’t open (which IS handy when you’re hiding a spaceship in it.) There are some fun vusuals including Uncle Martin zapping some phone lines with Martian sparkly stuff; levitating the garage and performing what I will call “a Martian diagnostic” on the ship.
Martin DOES pronounce the ship as being almost ready when he pops back to the apartment to talk to Tim, which I suppose covers up the plot hole.
Meanwhile, Andy and Katy get into the ship afterwards and in spite of shooing Okie-Doakie (the Martian dog) away decide not to make the trip. But Andy accidentally sets the ship off and it blasts through the garage roof, with Brennan and Brad watching from below.
And this is another plot hole; presumably the Brennans are either waiting for concrete evidence to expose the strange goings-on or they have told people and nobody believes them. (They DO come off as dopes!) More than likely, Martin erases some of their memories, the episode isn’t clear on that, but we do see him cleaning up the evidence later in the episode. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Back to the episode; The ship with Andy and Katy in it lands at an amusement park and they think they are on Mars. Making Andy not the most observant of Martians. Hilarity actually does ensue in this episode written by Jim Ryan and Bill Danch.
Jane Webb is the voice of Katy O’Hara as well as Lorelei Brown and the rest of the female characters. Although she worked in movies and on radio (including the Archie Andrews radio show!) she’s most associated with cartoons and was a Filmation staple, being the first person to portray Sabrina, Aunts Hilda and Zelda as well as Miss Della. In the Archie cartoons she did Betty, Veronica and most of the female voices.
To top that off, she was the first to ever play the voice of Wonder Woman onscreen (and you’ll never guess where!)
According to her Wikipedia entry when she wasn’t working she enjoyed painting, writing and even composing music. She retired and lived into her eighties and actually would have been a hundred last year.
Next time in this series, we’ll get up close and personal with the neighbors.
“Welcome, Brave Kinght, to Joust Joint. How may we sate thy hunger on this noble quest?”
—regular drive-through script at Joust Joint.
A heads-up out there to everyone who enjoys audio drama be it classic radio shows or modern podcasts. Or just a good story well-told.
I’m listening to a fine romantic drama podcast: “Drive-Thru Magic.” An LGBT story with a clever set-up.
Gabe, a twenty-something veterinarian meets Louie, a likewise twenty-something med student when Gabe pulls into the drive-through and Gabe takes his order through the speaker box. With nothing but their voices the two young men gradually begin to fall for one another over the increasingly frequent nights Gabe stops at the drive-through.
And I will here add that the idea of a speaker box is perfect for an audio drama. Sound effects, voices and other little touches paint the scene vividly for the listener.
Gabe and Louie gradually begin to know each other and fall for each other through their conversations. We share their poignant moments (both these young men are hurting) as well as the sweet blossoming of their romance.
There are also genuinely funny moments, many involving Louie’s co-worker Barb, as well as the King Arthur themed fast-food place “Joust Joint,” which sells sodas called “Merlin’s Magic Potion,” and offers sides of the inappropriately named Guinevere sauce.
But the magic in this series is that of a romantic story well told, written and acted.
Produced by Atypical Artists, https://www.atypicalartists.co/ three new episodes drop every Monday and are generally 5 to 8 minutes long.
Briggon Snow wrote the show and stars as Gabe. He’s no stranger to podcasts, having been in the groundbreaking “The Bright Sessions,” and fiction podcasts like “Look Up” and “Roomates.”
Some of the things that happened 25 years ago have slipped through the cracks. Here’s some of the ones I remember.
For about a week, the terrorist attacks were referred to as “The Events Of Last Tuesday,” and not as “Nine-Eleven.”
For several years afterwards, “September Tenth” was used as shorthand for “the way things used to be.”
No less a person than Franklin Graham criticized attacks on Muslims, saying his Ministry had more experience with Middle Eastern peoples and they should not be painted with the same broad brush.
For just a while, there was a lot of cooperation between parties.
Blood donation rates soared.
There was a surge of ecumenical prayer services in this country.
A sad and patriotic spoken song about the events and love of country was one of the most played songs on the radio around Christmas 2001.
“I Want A Hippopotomus For Christmas” was the other most played song on the radio around Christmas 2001.
And that was the way things were all those long late summers ago…
