Sweet Innocent Darkness (or the proof of my suspicions is in the breakfast)

My sister and I were devouring a sizable, delicious breakfast at a local eating establishment when the proof of my suspicions walked up to us and announced, "I need to talk to the two of you."  Such a statement, even when spoken somewhat kindly, puts my defenses up, so I was prepared for the worst, as was my sister.

 

"I heard you wrote a book," the proof of my suspicions stated with an acceptable amount of surprise.  Considering past encounters where someone is all initially nice, but quickly transforms into a not-very-nice-word, this statement put me even more on edge-of-disaster preparedness than usual.

 

"Yes," I responded tersely and directly, allowing the proof of my suspicions to take the lead.

 

"Is it historical?"

 

"No."

 

"Is it a romance?"

 

"Mm..." I wavered because there is a romantic element, "...it is more of a soap opera, sort of.  It is a dark and twisted tale."

 

"Oh," the proof of my suspicions declared.  "It is probably not something I'll want to read."

 

"Probably not."  I couldn't argue with blazing truth, especially with what was illuminated next.

 

"I like to read books where the girl gets the boy or the boy gets the girl in the end, and everyone is happy."

 

"Well, that is not what my book is."  Then I added, as evidence, "It is titled Dark Excursions."

 

The proof of my suspicions confessed to knowing this, and then talked about various other things before departing with, "Good luck with your book."

 

Once the proof of my suspicions had left the building, I faced my sister and exclaimed, "There is the proof of my suspicions!"  I then felt obligated to reiterate my suspicions, as if my sister hadn't heard enough about them already.  

 

"Even before the day I saw Dark Excursions displayed on the library shelf, I suspected that some people in town, who remember a shy, soft-spoken, and generally well-mannered boy, would make the erroneous assumption that this adult freakboy would write a sweet story full of innocent characters who do nothing wicked and live happily ever after.  I also suspected that some people would expect my book to fall under one or more of the following genres...historical fiction, historical non-fiction, western, traditional romance, inspirational fiction and/or inspirational poetry...because 9 times out of 10, if a local writer within a 100 mile radius publishes a book, it often belongs within those categories.  There is nothing wrong with those genres, it's just Dark Excursions isn't one of them."

 

My sister completely agreed and we finished our sizable, delicious breakfast.  I felt full from the food and full of a weird pride from finding proof of my suspicions.

 

Freak Out, 

JLH

P.S.  For more info on my not-so-sweet and far-from-innocent darkness, please click on WHIPPING OIL.

Are there words after words? (or tuesday night ponderings…)

I was going to write a blogpost all about the excellent review my book received.

 

Then I decided not to.

 

I thought about writing a blogpost all about my thoughts on my two years in social media.

 

Then I decided not to.

 

I considered writing a blogpost about a certain word that is not my favorite word for various reasons.

 

Then I decided not to.

 

I toyed with the idea of writing a short story based on some beautifully atmospheric photos I experienced today.

 

Then I decided not to.

 

Now I’m just typing.

 

Typing away the minutes.

 

One, two, three…diddle diddle dee.

 

Maybe I’m not sure what to write about now that I’ve seen my childhood dream come true.

 

Are there words after words?

 

Perhaps I’m just trying to figure out what happens next.

 

“You’ve just seen your childhood dream come true!  What are you going to do now?”

 

I don’t know, but I have NO desire to go to the so-called happiest place on earth. 

 

All I can say for certain, and I don’t want this to sound incredibly vain, but when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself the way I used to.

 

I see vague possibilities where I used to see nothing.

 

Well, I do still see edges of nothing.  Such sights are not easy to completely eradicate.

 

I don’t know, but I know answers are lurking just under the surface.  I just need to dig in the right spot.

 

X marks the future, whatever it may hold.

 

Freak Out,
JLH

Childhood Dream (or a freakboy walks into a library...)

It was the morning of Saturday May 2, 2015 when I walked into the Broken Bow Public Library and immediately maneuvered to the counter so I could sign in to use a computer.  I briefly chatted with the librarian and then turned around to find DARK EXCURSIONS on display.  Front and center on the top of the new arrival shelf, my book popped like a neon sign! 

 

There is little doubt that my eyes were bulging and my mouth was open in surprise!  I knew the library had ordered a copy, but I wasn't certain when it would arrive.  After I quickly claimed the computer I would eventually use, by setting unimportant items beside it, I joyously announced to the librarian, "My book is in!"  She paused and then inquired, "Your book is in?"  I hurried over to the new arrival and explained by exuberantly emphasizing, "Yes, MY book is in!"  She seemed as surprised as I was because she was the one who had prepared my book for check-out, but did not connect the author's name with...well, mine.

I briefly touched the book to ascertain its realness, because this was, quite frankly, feeling a bit like a daydream.  Before I picked it up, I had to take some photos and shoot some video, for this is the 21st Century after all.  I'm sure I resembled an obsessed parent going crazy with the camera, but I didn't care!  DARK EXCURSIONS is my baby.  I fed it by writing the pages.  I cared for it by editing the words.  I carried it for nine years by longing to see a print edition.

 

After filling my photographic needs, I picked up the precious bundle.  I examined the earmarks that make it a library book.  Giddiness poured over me at sight of the Broken Bow Public Library stamps and the F for Fiction and the H for Harmon on its spine!  Ironically, or poetically, this label covered up my last name.  I suspected this would happen, so I was prepared.  

Flipping through the pages, I started giggling.  Much to my amazement, this sound was neither maniacal nor diabolical.  This giggling was originating from a profound sense of joy reaching back to my childhood dream of seeing a book with my name on it at a library.  Okay, fine, there was some Oh My Gosh, People Are Going To Think I'm Crazy giggling going on, but even that was joyous because I realized I didn't care!

 

Narrow-minded or jealous people can say what they want, and they will, of that I'm certain, but they can't take away that extraordinary moment at the library and that enormous sense of satisfaction I experienced.  I set forth among a sea of literal blood, sweat and tears, battled years of self-doubt and vicious naysayers, to at long last realize and accomplish my heart's desire.

Freak Out,

JLH

P.S.  For more info on DARK EXCURSIONS, please click WHIP!