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Perhaps paranoia, due to covid, election confusion, national unrest, etc., is replacing our normal attitude.

With this being so, what better time is there for a mindless bout of TV enjoyment?

Unfortunately commercials have been getting on my nerves of late. There are many advocating new medicines which list an unending string of side effects more cursed then hoped for cure. The final possibility always cited and warned against is death. I am reminded of a teacher from ye olde school days who suggested a nap or rest rather then a pill.

A friend working a Halloween haunt commented on the greatness of the evening by citing a young customer who was overcome by illness at event. Not exactly the strongest of recommendations in my book.

Perhaps the relaxation of DVD watching is called for. Or even reading? There are good books of myriad genres. My books as W. P. Rigler or Adam Dust are available online at Rowanvale Books, amazon or lulu.com. Shameless plug?

The Cold Relationships

I have never hid my distrust or dislike of technology. But I can now also regard it as a two edged sword. While via means such as facebook or this site we can share our thoughts with others across the globe who we’d have been an unknown mystery to. But all too often these strangers can remain enigmatic images on a screen who remain a mystery to us. Thus rise is given to what I term the cold relationships.

I must admit I do enjoy flexing technology’s long arm and getting responses to my ideas and writings. Likes are cool. It is interesting to see such things from areas of the globe I have never traveled to. Thus my writings have received responses including Russia and Belgium. Am I big in Belgium? A writer’s cult must gain fans from somewhere. Borrowing and adapting an old saying, ‘perhaps ideas are alike all over.’

Having been diagnosed years ago with MS I have been through several bouts with it. Mobility can be a fluctuating problem. Generally, my hands and feet feel numb. I was horrified by the loss of my sense of touch fearing the barrier it would place between me and my cat, Amos. Yet I believe a philosopher once stated ‘what cannot be cured must be endured’. I have managed to complete several books that are out under my own name of W. P. Rigler or the chosen pen name Adam Dust. The writing gives me great solace and a feeling of accomplishment. And if you dwell in the realms of fantasy or horror that you write, can you really be untouched and find freedom.

Once while in a rare moment of human poetic relationships I wrote, ‘the lonely moments are the longest of all.’ I feel the statement is still true.

March’s Fantasy and Reading

Considering that March is but days away from completion, I’d say that time is flying. Not a surprising expression coming from a writer whose new book, The Midnight Mansion, is to feature an old grandfather clock on its cover.

Aside from approving the new book’s cover, I have attempted some writing on the refurbished lenovo laptop gained from ebay. Considering my technological bent, it is a solid older type laptop which I shall simply refer to as the monolith considering roots of distrust and mystery about technology garnered from film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Also this month I reverted to a favorite pastime of reading books. Old fashioned, but I enjoy it.

As already reported, I read and enjoyed a book of werewolf short stories titled Call of the Wyld. A good offering of tales not to be confused with the similarly named, but differently spelled, Jack London novel.

Also read this month was the late fantasy grandmaster Ray Bradbury’s nod to nostalgia, Farewell Summer. It was Bradbury’s last book and the final part of his story began years ago with the book Dandelion Wine. Each page practically screamed with Bradbury’s passionate loss for simpler days of youth. A fine read and wonderfully suitable conclusion to the author’s work.

The Last Word

An argument with an artificial intelligence is really impossible. This I’ve learned from films, books, and life.

Recently I was bothered by the dreaded robocalls. On my cell phone, no less.

At the end of the message, it said to press one to be deleted from the calling list. I did so. after a click and some peaceful quiet, the message responded with a thank you and said I was on the official list.

Again AI got the last word. “Stop the computer, I want to get off.”

Blown Beyond Horns

The March winds roar at the gate

and with no warning will wait.

Beware the most wicked winds

which flow in unyielding tides

to find bitter happiness

beyond all known or wise stress.

It seems to me the roaring lion winds of March have been particularly strong this year. But I am in good spirits, as yesterday I received emails concerning an upcoming podcast appearance, an invitation to appear with my books at my town’s May 8th Art Walk, and a sketch from the publisher for my newest book cover. And in regards to serious business, I did receive my first covid vaccine yesterday. Of course on my way into getting it, the wind did nearly blow me over.

Quiet Skies

No assaulting rain to run through.

No demons to banish from blue.

For me and you all be serene

forget the fears that you have seen.

Right now it’s calm as it has been,

so rest your eyes upon the green

The field is wide with grass so clean,

thanks to the falling soft spring rain.

I hope you enjoyed my latest attempt at poetry and seek out similar ghoulishly good creations in my books from lulu.com and Rowanvale Books. Seek out my name of W. P. Rigler. Poetry and fiction available.

Carousal

Life’s merry-go-round is ready to go no matter how strange,

choose your beastly seat carefully for the view will not change.

The last stop be the same for all,

no matter if large or quite small.

So hang to the reign or pole tight,

to see and make it to the light.

I hope you enjoy my latest poetic adventure and remember my poetry and other writing is available from lulu.com or Rowanvale Books via my original name W. P. Rigler.

Golden Treasures of Thought

Arrows will point to yesterdays with sufficient fun

worlds of golden sun and whispered promises not done.

So eat of the fragrant emerald vine

and please do taste memory’s fine wine.

Thoughts may be dreams for a time

but then shall you find the rhyme.

Werewolf Relaxation & Current Reading

I started this year reading Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, which was quite labyrinthine and good as it followed an ex-con’s bodyguard employment for a mysterious character of divine origin. The novel explored past divinities and their incorporation into the New World. Speaking of labyrinthine, I acquired an used copy of the book via an ebay dealer.

Next up for reading was a used copy of the book which adapted the original Battlestar Galactica TV movie, in part by series executive Glen A. Larson. I remember the old age before DVDs (even before VHS) when novelizations were the only way to capture the feel of a movie. Customarily, the book added details. It even featured a male Starbuck.

A few nights ago I found sleep elusive. Worries of covid and personal problems plagued my resting mind. I got up from bed and made my way through a darkened house. I picked up my recent addition of Call of the Wyld. It is an anthology of werewolf tales from a publisher I might one day attempt to place work of my own, Wyldblood Press. I got the book from another labyrinthine entity, amazon.

The story I read was Ivanwolf, the saga of a werewolf hunter aided by his faithful dog who set out in an apparently European country to dispatch a group of werewolves under command of the title character. I perhaps became too attached to the dog. Other tales concern women in current times whose lives are turned upside down by the men, er, werewolves in their lives. The lunar life of werewolves was one story I especially enjoyed.

As problems were erased from my mind, if briefly, I must wonder who would have thought werewolves could be so relaxing?

Happy Ever After

In Pam Purce’s children’s book Happy the Alpaca: First Day on the Farm, the author utilizes zippy language and rhyme as it covers Happy’s introduction to farm life. He discovers positive differences and similarities between animals on the farm. Written by Purce who has a Master’s Degree but still resides on her grandparents’ farm, the place plays host to myriad types of animals. Located in Harford County, Maryland, the place is now dubbed Three Oaks Alpaca Farm. Along with her husband she pursues special activities aimed often for enrichment of children. The place even has a gift shop often open for business. One crucial component is items made of alpaca hair – Happy’s consent given.