DECONSTRUCTING STURGEONS (the stories behind the story of a fictional little town)

July 16, 2023 was an important day in my personal history.  It was officially the last day my sister and I delivered bad news around town.  Unofficially, we ended up doing it another week until the newspaper found a replacement carrier.  It was also the day I clicked “Publish” three times.  Once for the Kindle ebook, a second time for the paperback and a third time for the hardcover of STURGEONS (the complete serials).  To celebrate its anniversary, here is the story behind the two stories comprising this one book… 

It was a dark and stormy evening in June 2013 as I drove home from a friend’s wedding in Omaha, Nebraska.  The sun was setting, and the rain was torrential as I slowly made my way west on interstate 80.  I was pulling into Grand Island, Nebraska when the rain finally subsided, but darkness had enveloped me.  Home was still an hour away and lightning flashed in the direction I was headed, so I made a decision to seek refuge in a big yellow house.

The inhabitants of this most curious dwelling welcomed me, for they were a cousin and a mutual friend.  Conversation and cannibalism ensued as we caught up on life and then watched a particularly heartwarming Asian film titled ZOMBIE ASS.  Sleep was required after such an emotionally compelling experience, so we retired to our separate sleeping arrangements to wait for whatever morning would bring us. 

My cousin and I, two early risers, were sitting at the kitchen table chatting about this, that and whatever, when our mutual friend joined us with his shiny new computer tablet. I had never seen one before, and he was eager to show us how he could take photos and record videos with it.  Plus, he could perform a voice-activated Internet search with just a touch of the screen.  My first ebook had been published earlier that year, so after several other ideas, I asked him to search for DARK EXCURSIONS. 

He tapped the screen and said, “Dark Excursions.”  A few seconds zipped by and the tablet’s feminine computer voice spoke, “Results for Darkening Sturgeons.”  Simultaneous laughter erupted between the three of us and I instantly knew I had to create something from this wayward voice-activated Internet search.  So, that’s exactly what I did. 

DARKENING STURGEONS, a modern take on 1950’s sci-fi/horror films, became my first blog serial.  It ran from June 2013 to January 2014.  My goal had been to release one chapter a week, but sometimes I got so behind on writing and editing that I  had to skip a week here and there.  This was an exhilarating and exhausting creative experience and I was so proud to have finished the story.  I eventually released all 26 chapters of DARKENING STURGEONS as a Kindle ebook in October 2015.  The cover is a seriously filtered and manipulated photo of the neighborhood I was living in at the time. 

I wouldn’t release another ebook until January 2019.  One of the reasons for this was losing a chunk of my vision in December 2016.  Watching as my world appeared to be fading away left me emotionally like a teenager again.  My body was changing, betraying me, and, at any given moment, I was prone to explode into anger, tears or laughter.  Maybe this is part of the reason why my sister didn’t want me to help deliver bad news around town.  I wanted to feel useful, so I argued I could still do it.  She eventually agreed, but she didn’t want me actually delivering the newspapers because of uneven ground and unforeseen obstacles.  I understood and shared this concern.  As a compromise, I rode along and rolled the newspapers, which was actually more helpful than it sounds. 

It was a dark and tranquil early morning in January 2017 as I sat alone in the car.  Plenty of papers were rolled and my sister was delivering the bad news to one of our customers with an endlessly long driveway.  I was existing in a perpetual state of waiting.  Waiting for the appointment with an eye specialist.  Waiting to find out if my vision loss was reversible.  (SPOILER ALERT: it wasn’t.)  Waiting for whatever was to come next.  My thoughts were spiraling around the terrifying possibilities of the unknown and that’s when I felt a large swelling of despair racing towards me like a tidal wave.  I had felt these depths many times as I saw my world disappearing before my eyes, but I didn’t want to feel it again.  Especially since my sister would return to the car soon. 

I knew I wouldn’t be able to completely prevent the wave from crashing upon my being, but I hoped I could lessen the impact.  My mind focused on what I had accomplished up to that point.  I briefly thought of old, unreleased stuff, but I mainly sorted through more recent creative endeavors.  Going back and forth between my books and blog, I celebrated my words, my characters, my stories, in case my medical crisis was to be the end of my own story.  Then I solely focused on DARKENING STURGEONS because deep down it was my favorite published creation.  The goofy/serious plot, the assortment of quirky characters and how it was all so randomly created could always make me smile. 

That’s when I heard a voice in my head.  A voice I didn’t recognize, and he asked a startling question.  What do I remember about the day my hometown was destroyed?  It was as if someone had asked him the question and he was repeating it before answering.  The answer unfolded behind my diminished eyes and I was swept back into the rebuilt town of Sturgeons, which I had always wanted to revisit.  I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks because I suddenly experienced a twinge of hope.  Hope that I would make it through the chaos and find a way to tell this tale, and I did…eventually. 

HAUNTING STURGEONS, the emotional aftermath of a sci-fi/horror cataclysmic event, became my second blog serial, after two false starts.  I wrote a few chapters later in 2017, but it was too big and too overwhelming of a project at the time.  Then I seriously planned a creative revolution in 2018, but ended up writing VISION BENT (half-blind poems) instead, which I released in 2019.  Years later, after that question, What do I remember about the day my hometown was destroyed, kept reverberating through my mind on a loop, I finally made HAUNTING STURGEONS a reality. 

This blog serial ran for 26 chapters, plus a prologue and epilogue, from August 2021 to March 2022.  Much like DS, releasing one chapter a week of HAUNTING STURGEONS, with a much needed winter holiday break, was creatively exhilarating, exhausting and stressful, in a good way.  What amazed me was the finished story adhered almost verbatim to what had originally unfolded behind my eyes all those years ago.  In September 2022, I released the Kindle ebook edition and I’m still pretty proud of it because it was the first ebook I fully wrote and published strictly using my tablet.  My previous ebooks/books had required technological assistance from the library. 

Then, in 2023, after briefly considering and scrapping a third blog serial, I started editing DARKENING STURGEONS and HAUNTING STURGEONS into a 2-in-1 volume.  I went through a few title options, including The Sturgeons Dichotomy,  but I decided simplicity, and acknowledging its origins, was best, so the book became STURGEONS (the complete serials).  The cover is an altered A.I. image originally generated by Dave of My Gay Opinion and his partner to celebrate the release of HS as an ebook.  

There you have it, the stories behind my fictional little town.  Once again, thank you to anyone who has visited STURGEONS in any of its various forms. Plus, thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

I’ll leave you with a few photos of STURGEONS sent to me by my awesome  readers! 📗

Photo courtesy of Fred’s Shed of Sniffable Stuff

Photo courtesy of The Cornwall Museum of Curious Creations 

Photo courtesy of The Florida Library of Forbidden Fiction 

Photo courtesy of The Cali Kindle Pop-Up Exhibit

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S. click the pic to discover how I whipped the midnight oil… 

Cornered View (a poem, of sorts)

Tell me how I feel 

After you tell me I shouldn’t 
Feel disappointment 
In the drop 
From 5 to 3 
Despite the coverage 
Layering eyes and ears 
Of place and time 
Time allegedly bad 
Never you mind 
This ain’t a ghost town 
From 9 to 5 

____________
2023, John L. Harmon 

(This poem, of sorts was inspired by the recent book signing event I blogged about last week.) 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 
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For more about STURGEONS… 
https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2023/07/and-now-for-commercial-break-in.html

freakboy classics: THE GAME

My dad passed away in March of 2022 and today would’ve been his birthday.  So, here is one of my old “tales from the freakboy zone” emails from 2008 all about a nice moment with my dad…

_______________

THE GAME

 

Truth be told, I continue to be an early/mid-1980’s boy living in an Atari 2600 world.  As a matter of fact, Margaret and I occasionally dig out and dust off that antique gaming system and test our more “mature” hand-eye coordination and stamina.

 

I still leave her in the dust on Megamania.  She will almost always beat me at Video Pinball.  We level the playing field with our equal and eloquent suckiness in maneuvering Pac-Man!

 

But back then, back in those toe-tally awesome years, if someone had told me that I would one day play a video game with my father, I would have laughed the delusional fool out of the decade!

 

Flash-forward to Wednesday, January 30th, 2008, the impossible became reality.

 

After an out-of-town doctor appointment, my father and I had the opportunity to fiddle with that new-fangled contraption called Nintendo Wii.  There we were, me in my thirties, him in his seventies, playing a game of bowling, a controller replacing the ball and no shoe rentals!

 

We soon grew accustomed to swinging the controller as if we were really swinging a ball, and releasing a button at the moment we would have normally sent a physical bowling ball down the lane.  It was fun, plain and simple!

 

Together, as father and son, we were initiated into the 21st Century and its virtual playground.  For a change, technology closed the age gap instead of expanding it.

 

FYI: My dad won, 127 to 93.  Hhhmmm…maybe this gaming system reversed the age gap.

 

1/30/2008

 

John L. Harmon

freak under control 

_______________

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S. click the pic ⤵️ for another tale about my dad…

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Bubba’s Truck is a very short story that may make you tear up a bit and is available as a very short ebook from an Amazon near you. 

freakboy on film: CHRISTINE (2016)

No, this isn’t the Stephen King story about a killer car, but I was almost expecting it to be when my sister and I sat down to watch.  Our onscreen cable guide is notoriously awful at confusing movies with similar, or even not-so-similar titles.  I mean, several years ago we had to tune in to see if the Hallmark Movie Channel was really showing CANNIBALS IN THE STREETS, but that’s another post for another day. 

written by Craig Shilowich/ directed by Antonio Campos

As for CHRISTINE, my sister had been checking channels and asked if I had heard of this film from 2016.  I answered no and I asked what the synopsis said.  She told me it was about a TV reporter who commits suicide on air during a live news broadcast.  This was startling enough, but then my sister explained it was based on real events that happened in 1974.  I admit morbid curiosity is why I decided to watch, but I wasn’t prepared for what I experienced.

The plot follows Christine Chubbuck as she goes about her days and nights, no one fully aware of what is going on in her mind.  Besides professional frustrations and medical issues, she is obviously struggling with undiagnosed depression.  Her mother keeps referring to the “moods” Christine gets in, but doesn’t know how to help.  When coworkers try to reach out, she shuts them down.  It’s really difficult to watch this intelligent woman imploding and eventually succumbing to her internal suffering.  Even knowing how it ends does not diminish the emotional impact of her story.  

Rebecca Hall portrays Christine as a fully realized, complicated person.  Sometimes she is sweet and funny, but other times defensive and angry.  Then there are times she is so full of sadness that it hurts.  Especially when Christine is putting on puppet shows as a volunteer at a children’s hospital.  What starts out as uplifting turns into an unheard cry for help. 

I know this isn’t the typical type of film I typically review, but I felt Christine’s story might help someone suffering from depression.  Maybe someone will recognize themselves or someone else and begin to pull back from that edge.  Honestly, I saw some of myself in Christine with her “moods” and her tendency to shut people out.  I know these are things I need to work on.

In conclusion…

CHRISTINE doesn’t glamorize depression or suicide and doesn’t give easy answers.  It just shows you one person’s struggle and it’s tough to watch, but worth your time. 

CHRISTINE is currently streaming on NETFLIX. 

NOTE to U.S. Readers….

If you are contemplating suicide, or know someone who is experiencing a mental health crisis, please call or text 988 to connect with a trained counselor. 

 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S.  I have a couple of blogging challenges on the horizon, so my typical film reviews will return soon.

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My books & blogs… 

http://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html 

The Day I Slaughtered a Pumpkin

 A gardening friend gave me a pumpkin. 

What the hell am I supposed to do with a pumpkin? 

She suggested making a pie.  

I said I could try, but I had my doubts I would. 

Yet, I did.

Two, actually. 

I found a recipe on the Food Network website… 

(Click here for the details) 

…and then grabbed a big knife! 🔪 

First, I decapitated the stem, like I was about to carve a jack o’lantern.  Then I cut the pumpkin’s body in half and disemboweled it.  As if saving a souvenir from my kill, I placed the gooey, seedy guts safely aside.

Someone is ignoring the “No Smoking” sign

Throwing the two oiled-up halves in the oven for a half hour or so made it easier to slice the pumpkin meat from its skin.  Then I pounded the meat hard until it became a smooth, creamy substance.  Adding molasses, cinnamon, ginger and other stuff, I stirred until it was time to fill the store bought pie crusts.  (My deepest apologies to Ms. Floridia Minch) 

My pies use protection

Around an hour later, I had two (mostly) made from scratch pies.  Surprisingly, unlike the chocolate salt lick pie I made in home-ec class, my pumpkin pies were quite tasty.  I even shared one pie with my gardening friend, our mutual friend and a few librarians.  The best part about that was nobody but the pumpkin died from my baking experiment.

This is the day when 1 becomes 2

As for my souvenir, I washed the guts off the pumpkin seeds and let them dry.  Then I pored a little canola oil in a bowl, added a pinch of salt and mixed in the seeds.  After draining the excess oil, I baked them on a cookie sheet for 20 minutes at 350° F, turning the seeds every 5 minutes.  What I learned from this is that unborn pumpkins taste a lot like big sunflower seeds. 

Seeds of Sin?

I also learned that my grandma must have really, really loved us for some reason.  Why else would she have cooked multiple pies and dinners a year over many years?  I mean, I was wiped out just from making the two pies this one time.  

In other words, while I’m glad I made the pies, I don’t love anyone enough to make a habit out of slaughtering pumpkins. 😏

2021 - 2021 🪦 

Happy Thanksgiving or whatever.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S.  click the pic ⤵️ to get hardcore thankful…

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In case you need to escape a family gathering… 

Rubber Duck Lips

 (a tale of my dad)

"I can see something is wrong from here." 

This is what I said to my sister, many years ago,  as we watched our dad approach from inside the fast food restaurant.  My sister warned me that our dad had experienced a prominent allergic reaction to a new medication, but nothing prepared me for the protruding sight coming closer and closer. 

I didn't just stare when our dad entered the restaurant, I gawked.  I gaped.  I couldn't take my eyes off of our dad's swollen lips.  They weren't just fat lip swollen.  They were the after photo in a precautionary ad for botched plastic surgery swollen.  Joan Rivers would've been envious of his extremely full lips.

Just when I felt a rumble of laughter threatening to erupt, our dad thankfully told us what he wanted for lunch and found us a table.  While in line, I made a few one word exclamations and then asked her if he was in pain.  He wasn't but it had to feel weird.  I mean, seriously, his lips appeared to be at the bursting point. 

We got our lunch and joined Dad at a booth.  Dad was across from me and this provided the opportunity for a closer examination of his obvious allergic reaction.  It was then when I realized his upper lip was pushing up in the middle and his lower lip was pushing down, not unlike a rubber duck.  Another rumble of laughter threatened to out me as a horrible son, so I looked away.  Even staring out the window while eating didn't stop the rumbling.  All I could see if I had to glance in his general direction and all I could think when turned away was...Rubber Duck Lips. 

Later, when alone with my sister, I laughed loudly and a lot.  (I still laugh hysterically about it to this day and wish I had a photo)  I think I foun this terrible thing so terribly funny because of the bath toy association and because our dad appeared unfazed by his temporary condition.  (Yes, his lips eventually deflated back to their normal shape and size)  I don't think I would want to be seen in public if that happened to me, let alone eat in view of others.  Maybe it's his generation, but he doesn't seem easily embarrassed, which causes me endless embarrassment.  Like the time he wore that bear shirt to Stockman's Cafe, but that's another tale for another time.

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S. An old tale hinting at another tale of my dad...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2016/03/only-happy-when-its-1995.html 

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Go dark!

Visit Sturgeons! 

Get bent! 

Freak out! 

My books & blogs...

http://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html