Dan Dan The Art Man

Book Memories guest blog post # 8 by J.R. Murdock

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BOOK MEMORIES # 8

When I was three or four, my mother had a subscription to two different books clubs for my older brother and me. One was to Gold Key, the other to Disney. Each month we’d get two new books in the mail; one Gold Key, one Disney. We got all the traditional books that you’d expect from a collection like this. We also got many obscure books.

My brother loved the Disney books, I preferred the Gold Key. Until I was a little older. Sure, my mom and step-father read books to both of us, but my brother was able to read on his own and he soon graduated from the kids’ books to comic books.

I remember my favorite Gold Key book was the pokey Little Puppy. I’d flip through the book again and again waiting until my mom or step-dad had time to read it to me. When I was a little older, it was the Disney book, The Magic Grinder. In this book, a dragon gives a magical devices to a poor woman with two little boys. It provides them with anything they needed as long as they said the magic words.

Once I was older and could start checking out books at school, I still remembered the dragon from that book. I read everything I could about giant lizards, and was fascinated by books with dinosaurs. In a year I checked out everything the library had and even though I could read well, I devoured those books. I was good at math, history, or any subject in school really, but ask me about any dinosaur, and I could regurgitate any of the facts I’d read including when and where the fossils were discovered.

I never lost my love of dragons and once I was old enough to start checking out books from the high school section, I graduated from dinosaurs to fantasy and science fiction. Worlds that took me away from my childhood life and into worlds unknown. Places I’d rather be. During that time I probably read two or three books a week. Anything I could get my hands on.

Yes, my grades still suffered, but it wasn't because I didn't understand the subjects in school, but because they held no interest for me. When forced to do homework or study for a test, it was discovered that I could retain almost anything. I went from a D average student, to an A average student with only a little effort.

Still, I preferred reading. Once I moved to live with my father, I still read voraciously. I would check out books from the library three or four at a time and return them all the following week for three or four more. I got an allowance that allowed me to go to the book store and buy books in bulk. I didn’t matter what books I bought, I would read them quickly, usually give them away to friends that wanted to read them, and go buy more.

When I didn't have money for books (growing up and living on your own is a lot more expensive than it seems) I took my collection of books to the used book store and started trading for books I hadn't read. Again I’d be reading one or two books a week. Until my supply of books and money ran out.

There was a drought in my reading period during the mid to late 90s. Years where I didn't read anything. It wasn't until someone put the first five Harry Potter novels into my hands that I rediscovered my love of reading. Those books brought back the magic I’d been missing. Sure, Harry Potter is intended for younger readers, but I could relate to much of what he’d gone through. I spent a lot of time as a kid with a flashlight reading books I had checked out from the library trying to escape from the life I had. Harry wanted to get away to a magical place, and he did. In a way, I had also done that.

I was never hungry as a kid, but I did grow up with an abusive step-father, a difficult time in school, summers spent cutting wood to sell to help feed our family, and terrible winters in Minnesota. Books got me away from all that. They made me feel that there was something else to look forward to in life.

If ever I met a dragon with a magic grinder that could give me anything I needed in abundance, it would fill my life with all the books I could read. I still try to read at least one book a week, but many times life intrudes and that doesn't always happen. I will likely never stop reading, and I’ll always be looking for that special place to escape to.

Bio:

J.R. Murdock is an avid reader of almost anything he can get his hands on. That being said, he also writes with near reckless abandon in any and every genre. His style is intended for pure entertainment. Over the years he’s written nine novels and over one hundred short stories. Only a few short stories have seen print (in actual print and on the web) so he’s decided to throw his hat into the podcasting arena with his novel V & A Shipping. Since then he has also podcast his novel Billy Barbarian and released his YA novel Astel: Chosen, not to mention the great short stories he's podcast in his Murdockian Tales series. Also V&A Shipping 2 is now available! Find out more at www.jrmurdock.com. When not writing like a mad-man, J.R. Murdock does have a day job as a computer programmer and loves to spend time with his lovely wife and beautiful daughter.

Find J.R. Murdock online at:

Book Memories guest blog post # 7 by Dan Absalonson

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BOOK MEMORIES # 7

This week you get to hear from me again! Yeah :) As I wait for more guest posts to come in I share two memories of being transported by reading The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan. Enjoy, then write your own book memory and send it in to me! See this blog post for the details.

Thanks for listening!

www.DanDanTheArtMan.com

Book Memories guest blog post # 6 by Sally Preston

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BOOK MEMORIES # 6

WARNING:  This post contains high degrees of saccharine and dairy. I.E. it's pretty overly sweet and more than a little cheesy.

First let me start with a shout out and thanks to Dan for including me as an occasional writer for posts. It's fun to share, put my own spin on things and since for the most part when I express myself I'm singing or playing an instrument writing is a nice change of pace! Now on to my favorite book memories.

My first and most vivid memory from my childhood would be when Mom would read to us every night before bed. "Make way for ducklings", "Charlotte's Web" and "The Trumpet of the Swan." A chapter each night, my favorite thing about it was time with Mom and sharing in the story.

Many books since then came and went... I grew, so did my taste in books. Never one to go for books that would scare or depress me I eventually would go for books that involved intrigue, mystery and drama. I read Grisham for a while, and then I found Michael Chrichton and loved the pacing of the stories, the complexity of the characters and the less than subtle nod to geeked out science weaved throughout.

Time marched on, I went to college, met my husband and we both worked furiously on our majors. Every once in a while Laith would come up with some incredibly obscure fact on something I'd ask "How did you know that?" The answer was always the same, a crooked grin, a glint in his eye and the words "I read!"

Reading has been a huge part of both of our lives and we wanted to pass this love of reading on to our children. So naturally in addition to being sung to constantly they were also read to a lot even before they were born. The best and most vivid book memory that I will always treasure, is that some time during the third trimester with each child Laith read the "Heffalumps and woozles" story from Winnie the Pooh. This makes me smile for two reasons. The first it shows you just how dedicated a Dad and husband he is, but secondly... if you haven't seen your exhausted, dedicated and devoted spouse attempt to say "a wizzle woozle wizzle woozle was..." at 9 pm in the evening you are letting one of the best things in life pass you by...

It's worked though; all three of our kids have been bitten by the book bug. One of the best sounds is hearing your child read to you. Even before they can read, they look at a book and derive clues from the story and spin their own tale. Then before you know it they are in the 2nd grade and are zipping through "Tiki Tiki Tembo, no saw rembo, cherri bari ru chi pip puri pembo!"

Lastly if you'll permit, I'll bend the rules a little and talk about my favorite author memory. My favorite author memory is when Laith writes. Have you ever listened to someone type? There's a rhythm to it, a tempo. The beat changes with the level of excitement, when a new idea comes along, when inspiration strikes. For several years now, Laith has been writing. Blogs, posts, short stories. It's his creative outlet, his expression. He's participated in several writing challenges, but my favorite is when he participates in NaNoWriMo. Because he enjoys it, of course, but also... over in our home office I get to hear that symphony in several movements. The tempo of the clickety clack, the rise and fall of the orchestration as the ideas take shape and when the writing is complete the new work of art that conveys an idea. And after 18 years listening to this author type, create and express I can't wait to hear the song again.

Thanks

Now, go and read...

Bio:

Sally Preston is a wife, music teacher and mother of three. She currently resides in Des Moines, Iowa where she enjoys soaking up the rich cultural events Des Moines has to offer. She also is an avid scrapbooker and most of all enjoys spending time with her family.

Book Memories guest blog post # 5 by Laura Nicole Download the .mp3 BOOK MEMORIES # 5 This is the fifth post in a series of Book Memories. This guest post is by Laura Nicole who chose to submit her guest post via audio. So sit back and enjoy listening to her book memory of reading by listening to audiobooks, falling in love with them, and then becoming an audiobook narrator herself. Bio: Laura Nicole has been making silly voices since a child. At the encouragement of her father, she started voice acting since 2004 starting with shows on BrokenSea.com and Circus13Productions.com. Her roles include strong artistic leading women, colorful villains, and a lot of computer voices. Currently she is narrating her novel Absolution and other projects to be named. As a writer, Laura has written short audio dramas for GypsyAudio.org and has worked on the “Please Spay Your Tribbles” blog for Flying Island Press magazine. Laura's current work that she has out is “Stonebriar Casefile 186: Bad Alchemy” in both .epub and audio, and her podcast “Gypsy In The Attic”. You can find more information about her work at www.GypsyLaura.com.

Book Memories guest blog post # 5 by Laura Nicole

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BOOK MEMORIES # 5

This is the fifth post in a series of Book Memories. This guest post is by Laura Nicole who chose to submit her guest post via audio. So sit back and enjoy listening to her book memory of reading by listening to audiobooks, falling in love with them, and then becoming an audiobook narrator herself.

Bio:

Laura Nicole has been making silly voices since a child. At the encouragement of her father, she started voice acting since 2004 starting with shows on BrokenSea.com and Circus13Productions.com. Her roles include strong artistic leading women, colorful villains, and a lot of computer voices. Currently she is narrating her novel Absolution and other projects to be named.

As a writer, Laura has written short audio dramas for GypsyAudio.org and has worked on the “Please Spay Your Tribbles” blog for Flying Island Press magazine. Laura's current work that she has out is “Stonebriar Casefile 186: Bad Alchemy” in both .epub and audio, and her podcast “Gypsy In The Attic”. You can find more information about her work at www.GypsyLaura.com.

Book Memories guest blog post # 4 by Scott Roche

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BOOK MEMORIES # 4

I've read so many awesome books and most of them are classics, but Dan asked for our fondest memory of a book or books. I've loved being read to as much if not more than I've enjoyed reading for as long as I can remember. My Mom read to me well past the age where I needed it. I've read to my own children and credit that for igniting a love of a good tale well told. When I was a kid, there were these things called records and it's a book and record and the journey it started that I'd like to share.

The earliest memory of audio fiction I have are the GI Joe Adventure Team book and record sets. With it, you got a comic book and a 45 RPM record. The vinyl disk and book are, in my memory, a gateway to the worlds of action and adventure that I'd revisit a hundred thousand times over during the course of my life. The story was brief, since it had to fit on the record, but it was fun and suspenseful. I must have played it fifty times if I'd played it once, sprawled out on my bedroom floor. That taught me the valuable lesson that even the campiest stories can be enjoyed more than once.

The sound effects were campy and the voice acting was overdone. This was something aimed at children, but re-listening to it even as an adult makes for a pleasant trip down memory lane. I certainly didn't know it at the time, but these kinds of stories would come back to my ears in the form of podcast fiction. It comes back to being able to enjoy the story in a slightly more passive form. I say slightly, because for me at least, it does give me the advantage of being able to close my eyes and use my imagination to paint the pictures. I know that's not the case for everyone. I asked my circle recently about this and some people just don't enjoy that sort of consumption. I get that. I do prefer to read where I can.

Thinking about the lasting effect this book had on me has been eye opening. There was a time I'd worried about the future of the book. I look at the stories my mids are consuming through TV, movies, and video games and marvel. They have options as readers I didn't have. Inventions like Google glasses and Oculus VR headset open incredible opportunities both as creators and consumers. I don't worry as much any more. I know there are people that will always gravitate towards having stories told to them. The more I think about it though, the more I hope that it acts as the proverbial gateway drug to not just basking in someone elses story but telling your own. That's what it's done for me.

Bio:

Scott Roche craves only caffeine and the clacking of keys. He pays his bills doing the grunt work no one else wants to take, bringing dead electronics back to life and working arcane wonders with software. His true passion is hammering out words that become anything from tales that terrify to futuristic worlds of wonder. All that and turning three children into a private mercenary army make for a life filled with adventure.

Check out the IndieGoGo campaign for his newest book here.

http://igg.me/at/ginniedare/x/397786

Scott's Website - http://www.scottroche.com

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/scott.roche.author

Twitter - http://twitter.com/spiritualtramp

Patreon - http://www.patreon.com/scottroche

Book Memories guest blog post # 3 by Michael J. Sullivan

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How I Became a Reader

It’s probably not a good thing to admit, but when I was young I hated reading. Yep, even though I make my living now from writing books, there was a time when I had no interest in the written word. One of my worst memories was the summer I tortured myself with Big Red, a 254 page “chapter book” that I suffered through just so I could say I’ve read a book in my lifetime. But this post is supposed to be about my best memory not my worst, so I’ve already wandered off track.

How I came to reading probably doesn’t seem like an overly pleasant experience. It started in the dead of night (or at least what I thought was the dead of night at the time).  My brother and I shared a small bedroom and since he was ten years my senior he stayed up much later than I did.  He rushed in, switched on a blinding light, shook me awake, and then spend the next several hours rambling about a book he had just started reading. Apparently he was so enthralled with it that he just had to “tell someone.” Even if that someone was his younger brother that he really didn’t have much in common with.

This went on night after night, and I only caught half (or less) of what he was telling me…it always takes me a while to gather my wits when woken in the middle of the night...but one thing that came across loud and clear was his enthusiasm for the story. Much of what he was telling me didn’t make sense. There were strange words I’d never heard of and places that were nothing like where we lived in the suburbs of Detroit. But I tried to stay awake and there were some cool things that stuck with me.

Eventually the nightly visits ceased, and while I didn’t realize at the time that I would miss them, I can look back now with great fondness. Both my brother and I are “getting up there” in years and this was the first time we shared anything together (besides our room). It was a binding tie that stays with me even to this day. But again, I’m wandering off track.

So anyway, it was sometime later…I really can’t recall how long. It was a Sunday, which I remembered because back then there were only three network stations and Sunday afternoons contained golf, bad black and white movies, and not much else. It was raining, and I was bored enough to do some organizing of our bedroom.  In doing so, I came across a book. The book. If there had been anything else to do, I might not have opened the page, but since the story got my brother so excited, it was worth trying to see what all the hub-bub was about.

It started out with:

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

Wow, I thought. This is much more interesting than the story about the Irish setter.

So I curled up and dug in. My life was never the same again. All that kept running through my head was, “So this is what reading can be like. Needless to say, when I finished it, I dug into Lord of the Rings. Then I was bugging my mom to take me to the library as I worked through all the Narnia books. It wasn’t too long before I ran out, which is what transformed me from a reader to a writer.

I wanted more…and I wanted stories to go the way I wanted them to. I’ve always been mad at Lewis for returning the children to ordinary lives after they had lived as kings and queens. The best way to manage this was to write my own books, so I started typing out stories on my sister’s portable typewriter. I illustrated covers on construction paper, and used staples or punched holes and used string to bind the pages together. A whole new world opened and not only did I discover the joy of reading, but the untapped potential of a nearly limitless world.

So for those who have read my stories you can either thank (or blame) my brother Patrick (his first name is John, although everyone calls him Pat) FRor waking me up in the middle of the night so share his enthusiasm for Tolkien. It was the spark that ignited the fire, and without that my life would have turned out much different. I hope that everyone has someone in their life that nudges them on the way to reading…and, I’d be even happier if some of those got the writing bug as well.

Bio:

Michael J. Sullivan is author of The Riyria Revelations, The Riyria Chronicles, and his recently released science fiction thriller, Hollow World.  He has written twenty-three novels, published nine, and has been translated into fifteen foreign languages. His works have appeared on more than eighty-five “best of” or “most anticipated” lists including those compiled by Library Journal, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, and Audible.com. He spends part of his time trying to help aspiring authors learn the intricacies of publishing through a regular column on Amazing Stories, and he’ll soon be featuring author interviews on Adventures in Science Fiction Publishing.

Contact Info for Michael:

Website: www.riyria.com

Email: [email protected]

Twitter: @author_sullivan

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/author.michael.sullivan

The short story "Cue Bull" I wrote for the Every Photo Tells Podcast has been released! It is now available on their website in audio, and available in all eBook formats at Smashwords. I will also be adding the .mp3 to my podcast feed. They did an amazing job narrating this story so slide on some headphones and have yourself a listen. A big thanks to Mick & Katharina of Every Photo Tells for such an amazing reading of my story and for providing this outstanding avenue for writers to get inspiration to write and submit short stories.

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Book Memories guest blog post # 2 by A.F. Grappin

Brought to you by www.DanDanTheArtMan.com

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BOOK MEMORIES # 2

I once actually had someone ask me if I was reading Dostoyevsky on purpose.

While that's probably one of my favorite memories of reading, I pretty much just summed up the entire memory in that sentence, and that doesn't make for a very good blog post. I could go into more detail, like how I was reading The Brothers Karamazov in the hallway of the music building in college, when I should have been practicing, or like how my music theory professor once asked me why I wasn't majoring in English instead of music, and he's the one that suggested I read The Brothers Karamazov in the first place... yeah, those were good times. But they were some years ago, and honestly, I was a completely different character then.

Person. I meant person.

Books affected me differently then. Meaning... they didn't. Not really. While I did spend much more time reading words than music at the time, I really wasn't ready to truly read or appreciate books. Stories, yes. I could appreciate stories. I couldn't appreciate the books yet. At least, not on an emotional level. I had to go through a lot of crap first, a lot of emotional breakthroughs, and one really bad relationship.

But hey, that's what made me the way I am now. So, here I am a solid 5-7 years after the Dostoyevsky thing, and here's one of my favorite book memories.

This actually happened in late December 2013. After three years of being away from the stage, I'd been cast as the Prince in a heavily abridged, edgy cut of Romeo and Juliet. Community theatre, not for pay, that sort of thing. Fortunately, I'd performed the show before, pretty much the same cut, with the same director... and I was playing the same role I'd played four years ago. Not a huge role, and I actually remembered most of my lines. The Prince gives a lot of speeches, so I really didn't have a lot of onstage time. I'd go on, give my speech in the scene, and be done for 20 minutes, until my next scene/speech.

Well, as evidenced by the whole "not practicing in the music building" thing I mentioned earlier, I have a tendency to read when I'm supposed to be doing other things. Used to be, I'd have a book and some sort of pen light. Now, I've got my glorious kindle. It was easily hidden in my costume. I'm a terrible person, I know. Offstage after my scene, I'd already have the kindle whipped out and be reading. For the bulk of rehearsals and our performances (yes, I had the kindle with me during performances-- I know, horrible person), I was smack dab in the middle of Myke Cole's Shadow Ops trilogy. Specifically, much of this time, I was reading the second book, Fortress Frontier.

I don't know if I can honestly describe the emotional highs and lows the combination of Fortress Frontier and Romeo and Juliet put me through. One rehearsal in particular, about a week before opening night, I'm sitting in the wings, reading away. We've just gotten started, and I'm waiting for my first entrance, when I go on and yell at the Capulets and Montagues for fighting in Verona streets, tell them that if they keep fighting, they'll die, yada yada yada. My character was just ticked off for the entire show. I turn it off and on like a switch, pissed, not pissed. It's fun.

Well, this day was different, because I'd just read a passage in Fortress Frontier that made my jaw drop. I mean honest-to-God, my mouth was hanging open like a screen door on a muggy Wednesday afternoon in the deep South. Fly-catching, germ-spreading hanging open. I had not seen the return of this character coming. I thought he was dead. Sure, I'd had my doubts about his death, but I hadn't expected him to be alive, not really. So that jaw-drop was part, "I didn't see that coming" and part, "I KNEW IT!" Talk about an adrenaline rush, the euphoria of some amazing storytelling.

Then I heard my cue. I had to put the book-nerd away and turn into stage-nerd. Angrier than a bull getting hemorrhoids installed stage-nerd. I had to come on stage stomping and shouting my displeasure, when all I really wanted to do was tell the rest of the cast that [SPOILER ALERT- I'm not giving this away] was ALIVE!!! None of them would have known what I was talking about; even those other castmates that were big readers hadn't heard of Myke Cole (I have since evangelized at length to them). I didn't care. I was on a high of epic proportions... and now I had to use that energy to berate some of my best friends on stage.

This sort of moment happened TWO MORE TIMES, with the same book, during the same show. I tore through Fortress Frontier, finishing it during our third performance. I couldn't have planned it better, actually. You know that sort of low you get when you've finished a book, and you've already ridden the high of an amazing ending, then it hits you that it's over, and you're just in a slump until you pick up the sequel and/or find something else to immerse yourself in?

I finished Fortress Frontier about ten minutes before my big scene, when the Prince learns that Mercutio (his cousin, though in this production we made the character my sister (yes, played by a woman)) has been killed. The Prince is torn up at the loss of family, and I was torn up at finishing one of the best books I'd ever read. It seemed to fit. Couple that emptiness with the fact that it was my BEST FRIEND playing Mercutio, and that I was looking at her "dead", and... yeah. I sort of lost it. The actress who played Lady Capulet (who I've known for years and who has known me to not be the best at acting) told me I made her feel a little ashamed of herself for the Capulet/Montague feud. I was that affected, and it showed in my performance.

Basically, here's what I'm saying: words are power, and words are powerful. I'd never really been one to get that emotionally invested in something I was reading, or even that I was writing. My mistake. Immerse yourself. Let it in. And then, more importantly, let it out.

Bio:

A. F. Grappin currently lives in Tennessee and writes in those spare moments of free time before and after the food-providing day job. Check out afgrappin.com for currently published works Empeddigo and The Trials of Hallac, and find A. F.'s blog, home to writing articles, book reviews, short fiction, and the serial novel Mere Acquaintances. You can hear a handful of short stories on the Every Photo Tells podcast.

Book Memories guest blog post # 1 by Dan Absalonson

Brought to you by www.DanDanTheArtMan.com

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THE FIRST TIME I READ PAST THE REQUIRED PAGES

I've always loved reading. In my teen years I could usually be found with a book and if there was a spare moment I'd whip it out and get to reading. Sitting in math class during our homework time I'd finish the assignment and pull a paperback from my backpack. I remember one time I was reading the massive door stopper The Eye of the World, the first in Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time series, and when a classmate saw me pull it from my bag he was like,

"Woah! What the heck are you reading Dan? I didn't know they even make books that big. Why would anyone want to read something that long?"

It made me smile.

The story I want to share about though is about an experience I had reading an assigned book for school. The first amazing part about it is that I liked it in the first place. Not even someone who loves reading enjoys most of the books they force you to read for school. This time though, it was different. It was my freshman year of high school and our teacher assigned us to read The Princess Bride by William Goldman. Most of you have probably seen the movie, it's a classic, but if not there will be spoilers. I figured it's okay because as I wrote this the movie is 27 years old and the novel is 41 years old. I highly recommend both as they are awesome.

So we were assigned to read a certain amount of pages every night and we'd talk about what we read in class the next day. I think there may have been a quiz about the assigned reading, but what I do remember was what happened one night while I was reading the assigned pages. The main character, the awesome pirate captain sword fighting mans man who was coming for the girl and they were going to be together forever because they had true love, died. I stopped reading and said "What?!" out loud. I could not believe it. I read it again. This can't be right! There is just no way he can be dead! I kept reading until I got to the end of the assigned reading, but I couldn't stop. I had to find out if just somehow Westley, the Dread Pirate Roberts, Buttercup's beloved farm boy could still be alive later in the book. So I read on, my pupils pounding the printed pages. I stayed up late and I grew tired but I had to keep reading. I couldn't handle the truth. It had to be that the hero was still alive so he could save the girl from marrying a jerk. Their true love just had to win out in the end!

Finally my eyes flicked across words about Miracle Max making a resurrection pill which Fezzik and Inigo give to him and it worked. The tension fell from my shoulders. I could finally close the book for the night and get some sleep. It was an awesome experience to read beyond the assignment and stay up late because I had to know what happened next. Finding a book like that is rare, but in a book I was assigned to read for class? Shoot, I did not expect that. So of all the books I had to read for school The Princess Bride stands high above the rest. The most enjoyable, the funnest to read, and the best adventure. There were a few other books for school that I liked, admired, even enjoyed - but I loved reading The Princess Bride.