Skeleton Crew

Well, I just finished reading "Skeleton Crew" by Stephen King. I really enjoyed it, as with most of Stephen King's work, but with all short story compilations, there were some stories I loved, some I didn't really like, and some that didn't really stand out much to me. So, to cut down on time, I'm going to review the stories I liked and didn't like the most thoroughly and will breeze through the others in a sentence or two. (Sorry, this review is going to be long.) Still, overall this was a pretty good compilation, but for some reason I liked Night Shift better.

The Mist - The Mist was the first story in the book and recently there was a movie that came out based on this story. I might have to see the movie now because the story was pretty good. Still, there were a few things about it that made it less enjoyable for me. The basic storyline is a man and his son are on a trip to the supermarket when a strange mist rolls in and strange creatures start killing people in that mist. I liked the idea because it had a very Lovecraftian feel. Also, the concept of being trapped in a supermarket in that sort of crisis is interesting because it takes out the possibility of starvation or dehydration--at least for a very long time. The thing I found to be most unlikely however, was an old crone basically convinces most of the people there that they need to preform a human sacrifice to appease the monsters outside. First off, they're only trapped for about two or three days, so even though Lovecraft's monsters do tend to unhinge one's sanity, I like to think the situation wouldn't devolve that quickly. It takes more than a few days to form a cult. Since not everyone was for the idea at first, I think it would be more likely that they would hoist her outside before they would willingly throw someone else to the proverbial wolves. The second thing I didn't like, apparently Stephen King didn't like as well, was when the main character cheats on his wife during the crisis before he knows what has happened to her. If that wasn't enough, he doesn't bother to find out if she's alive or not later on. It was more than cowardly, and made me have a distinct lack of sympathy for the main character. I like to think that he could've controlled his urges for two or three days, and would've tried a bit harder at least for his son's sake to find his wife. Still, it wouldn't surprise me if Stephen King didn't want that to happen and it just sort of did. Sometimes characters don't do the things we originally want them to, at some point it's as though they control themselves. Still, overall, not a bad read.

Here There Be Tygers - This one made me giggle. Let's face it, in elementary school there's at least one teacher that you wish would get eaten by a tiger.

The Monkey - This was probably my favorite story in this book. The concept itself is kind of cliche, a possessed clockwork monkey makes a living thing die every time it claps it's cymbals together. Still, the way it is written is truly terrifying. The way the monkey is described is chilling, to the point you can almost see the demonic grin on its face as it causes something horrible to happen in the main character's life. The way he describes the thing is that it's just evil, not even a conscious evil but somehow naturally that way. Also, the fact that he tries to get rid of it and it just keeps reappearing is disturbing. The little blurb at the end about the fish dying is disturbing as well...

Cain Rose Up - Sorry, I have to give away the ending to this one, because to explain what the story is about I have to. This story didn't really impress me. It's a little chilling because of the calmness the main character shows as he basically loses his mind. Still, because the character didn't seem to have a reason to shoot anyone (he was shooting random people by the end of the story), the point was kind of lost on me. Maybe that was the point, that some people do horrific things and don't even know why themselves. I really don't know, but I didn't really like this one.

Mrs. Todd's Shortcut - I found this story really interesting. Basically, it's about a woman that tries to find the shortest route possible everywhere she goes, to the point that somehow she bends time and space to get there. The woman herself isn't normal, and as she cuts time off of her route, she also seems to get younger in the process. The woman is basically the avatar of Diana, and her car is her means of expression and freedom. This story was just fun to read. The way it's told draws you in little by little. It's a slow start, but by the end, it's really interesting.

The Jaunt - The Jaunt is probably my third favorite in this book. This is a science fiction story about teleportation, taking place shortly after teleportation is invented. I won't give away the ending, but basically it's a father telling his family about how the process called "the Jaunt" was invented. The scientist tested the process on mice originally, but the mice died when they got to the other side. This was due to sensory input, the mice saw something that killed them. When they were put under they came through safely. It turns out that those who can perceive when they teleport perceive it as eternity without anyone or anything to interact with. The concept is incredibly disturbing. In fact, the only complaint I have about this story is the environmental doomsday scenario that prompted this invention seemed unrealistic to me. (I don't buy into that sort of thing very easily.)

The Wedding Gig - This was kind of a fun story about a group of jazz musicians that are forced into playing during the wedding of the sister of the head of a criminal syndicate. Needless to say, things don't go well. It isn't a bad story, it just didn't stand out much to me. I actually had forgotten about this one.

Paranoid: A Chant - This is a short poem written from the perspective of someone with paranoid schizophrenia. It starts off almost humorous but gets worse and worse as the poem goes on. I have to admit the rhyme scheme was good and as a poem it was interesting and well written--still, almost a little too well written if you ask me. (Just kidding, Mr. King.)

The Raft - Everything about this story is pretty good, except for the fact I didn't like the characters. There was only one character I was "okay" with and she died first, so it was kind of hard to finish this one after that. There was a surprising amount of blood and gore in this story. Stephen King definitely has a way of making the most mundane of monsters still seem scary. This story is about "The Blob." I kid you not. A group of college students swim out to a raft, and a large dark spot in the water starts to pick them off one by one. I had trouble taking this story seriously because all I could think of was oozes, black puddings, and gelatinous cubes from D&D. (I also kept thinking of a very funny episode of the anime Cowboy Bebop, when he leaves a lobster in the fridge until grows an intelligent ooze that starts attacking everyone in the ship--the ooze is eaten in the end, instead of eating the crew like it did in this story.) Anyway, not all that impressive to me, but you may not have the same experiences I do and might enjoy this one more than I did.

Word Processor of the Gods - This was a pretty cool story. I liked the concept and I liked the ending. Basically, the main character has lost his sixteen year old nephew, a nephew that he really wishes had been his son rather than his brother's. His nephew made him a word processor for his birthday, just before he died, out of a conglomeration of spare parts, almost like a mad scientist's invention. When the main character uses the machine for the first time, he finds that he can delete things from reality, or add things to reality simply by typing. The Processor is like Aladdin's lamp. The power the main character is given is godlike, but the processor won't last long.

The Man Who Would Not Shake Hands - I really enjoyed this story as well. This one had the feel of an old timey setting, though I don't think the year is ever really said, with a group of older men telling stories. The story this one features is about a man who was afraid to shake hands with anyone--and it turns out there's a very good reason why involving a curse from Bombay.

Beachworld - This is a science fiction story where there are two survivors from a crash into an unknown planet. The planet is filled with sand, that for some reason is like beach sand rather than desert sand. It's a story about their struggle to survive and one of them descends into madness, but is it really madness if what he is thinking is true? The sand around them is alive. It isn't a bad story, but it didn't stand out very much to me. It had the feel of man verses environment and that sort of story doesn't typically appeal much to me--tough it was interesting when the environment took physical form against the one trying to escape at the end.

The Reaper's Image - This story seemed too short to me. I liked the idea of a mirror where a person would see the image of the Grim Reaper and then disappear. The fact the person who saw the image didn't die but just vanished was creepy and different, but there was a long lead up to finding out that fact, and not enough meat to the actual story, in my opinion. Then again, I do tend to make my stories a bit too long, but this one didn't start off fast enough and ended when it had just gotten interesting.

Nona - This story had an interesting twist at the end that pretty much made the story for me. I liked the symbolism of the personification of violence made in the image of the woman Nona, and the obvious Gynophobia of the main character. Still, since the main character is a murderer, it is a bit hard for me to sympathize with him. Still, I want to believe his story.

For Owen - I'm not sure what to say about this poem. It's very odd and describes children as various types of fruit. I have theories about the symbolism in this poem but would rather hear if anyone else has any ideas about what this poem is meant to mean. I think maybe it has something to do with feeling old in the presence of a young child.

Survivor Type - Probably my least favorite of the set. This story is about a man who is a surgeon, but also a drug dealer, who is trapped on a desert island without food and is forced to do the unthinkable to survive--he starts to eat himself bit by bit. He keeps considering himself a survivor and will do anything to survive. While I think the first amputation would probably have worked, this story was way too far fetched. Surgeon or not, he would've bled to death when he amputated his second foot, and would've run out of his four gallons of water probably before eating became the biggest problem he had to deal with anyway. I'll spoil the ending--by the end he's a torso and is eating his fingers. There's just no way.

Uncle Otto's Truck - This one was pretty good because it personified and vilified an object very well. In this case, it was a beaten up old truck. This is going to sound strange, but I've always thought of old trucks as feeling angry, because when they get faded and rusty and abused, there's something about the woods overgrowing on them that seems kind of neglectful. So, the truck having a grudge was kind of a creepy thought to me. I liked this story.

Morning Deliveries (Milkman #1) - The concept is disturbing because basically it's about a deranged milkman that poisons his clients. Still, I couldn't take it seriously because he reminded me too much of the milkman in the game Psychonauts. All I could think was "What is in the Milk?" And the cheerful look on his face as the threw the molotov cocktails. Still, a good story about the vulnerability people have to those who prepare their food.

Big Wheels: A Tale of the Laundry Game (Milkman #2) - I didn't like many of the characters in this game, but I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to like them. That's why this one was entertaining to read. Explaining this story would take a bit too long. The Milkman is in it, but only briefly at the end, but his presence is felt throughout the whole story. Read it, and you'll know what I mean, but read the other first.

Gramma - This story is so messed up, but in a good way since that made me have lot of trouble putting it down. It's told from the perspective of a nine year old kid, left alone with his slightly crazy Grandmother. As the boy remembers stories about her little by little, you come to understand that his Grandmother isn't an ordinary old lady, and her past is pretty dark. His Grandmother dies while he's waiting on his mother to get home, but it seems that her business with him isn't quite over...
You can really sympathize with the little boy, and older people tend to be a little intimating to young children anyway, and this story speaks to the part of us that remembers that.

The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet - I'm not sure why, but this is my favorite story in this book. The story is about an editor talking about the strange madness of an author who gave him a story that came at the right time during his life. The madness of the author rubs off on him and he becomes paranoid. This story is amusing because the author believes that a little fairy called a Fornit lives in his typewriter and helps him come up with stories, and everyone around him is trying to secretly kill the Fornit. Still, the author's obsession with this imaginary creature pushes him to the point of trying to kill his wife, housekeeper, and her child, and eventually himself. Still, there's a question at the end of how much of this was in the author's mind. Did his belief in this creature somehow make it real, or was his madness somehow spreading to those around him. I liked the questions it posed and the story was genuinely different and compelling. It might be just because I am a writer and sometimes I also don't know where the ideas come from. I'd like to hear your opinion of this one as well.

The Reach - For some reason, I didn't get into this story at all. It's basically about an old woman who starts seeing the ghosts of friends and relatives, particularly her dead husband, beckoning to her. She thinks that she's about to die because of the things she's seeing, and decides that before she dies she'll cross "The Reach" a large body of water that separates her island community from the mainland. The reach has frozen over, so she can walk across it to get there. She's always been comfortable on the island and never wanted to leave, and most of the story is spent while she's reminiscing about old times and family lines. I found most of the story pretty slow and a little uninteresting, but the ending was touching, so I must've gotten attached to her somewhere along the way.


Well, that's it for my review. I'm sorry it was long, but I like to be thorough. I hoped you at least enjoyed it a little, and I highly recommend picking up this book.

Things Are Coming Together

Well, I'm almost done with my World of Warcraft story. I should be done sometime next week, so it looks like I'll definitely be done by the deadline. Hooray. Then, it'll be back to working on the novel again, and potentially working on another short story or two for various anthologies. I'll have to check Ralan for the latest information.

Speaking of World of Warcraft, I'm also glad to say that I finally have a character that is nearly level sixty. It took me long enough to get there, but I'm glad to have finally made it. It's odd, the ending levels for the original game are oddly deserted. Not that I'm complaining. It's been mostly like my Husband and I are the only ones in the Western Plaguelands. Still, we're getting ready to jump the Dark Portal for the first time. Wish us luck. I'm excited about it. Also, now that we have a high level character, we should be able to buy the Northrend Expansion. I'm hoping to see most of what there is to see before the game changes with the upcoming Expansion. I'm very excited about that since the entire game will probably change a great deal, including the old areas.

Also, I'm glad to say that I've decided to start painting again. There are lots of things I want to do to better myself, and I'm finally managing my time well enough to do a few of them. I've started sketching a design onto a canvas that I've wanted to paint for a while. It was a scene based on a Victorian poem I read in college called, "Goblin Market." The drawing I made based on the poem is one of my best, but I have always wanted to actually paint it. So, that'll be a little project I can work on mostly next week.

Also, hopefully with the new Rock Band game coming out soon I'll finally make some progress on my keyboard. (The new game is supposed to actually teach you how to play all of the instruments.) I'm trying to learn piano, but I've always had trouble with musical instruments. Mostly it's staying motivated. I'm going to try to pick that up again soon and hopefully that silly game will help a little too once it comes out. Still, one thing at a time, starting with the painting.

I guess that's all that's new for now. Hopefully next week I'll have a review of "Skeleton Crew." Also, hopefully, I'll get to see another movie soon and will be able to write a review for either "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" or "Airbender."

WoW a contest...

I just figured out a way to make my World of Warcraft addiction work for my writing as well. There is a World of Warcraft writing contest due around mid August and I'm going to enter.

I'm actually really excited about it. I've had an idea for a World of Warcraft short story, or at least a similar idea, for a little while now and it seems I finally have an excuse to put it to paper. My story is about a human that turns into a forsaken. He's from Raven Hill, before the entire area began to be known as Darkshire. While he's being changed into a forsaken by an alchemist in Undercity, Jitters finds the Scythe of Elune, and the main character's world changes forever. (I actually already have an outline written, but I don't want to spoil too many of the surprises...) It's going to be a very dark story, but it seems most stories involving the Forsaken would be.

I've got a lot of work to do on this story, so this will probably be my only blog entry this week. Still, it's nice to take a break from brainstorming about the next novel to write a short story every now and again. I'd love it if I could win this competition because it's a worldwide writing contest. Heck, I'd just be happy to have an honorable mention. Still, I know that probably isn't likely, but either way I think I'm going to have a lot of fun writing the story. I'll probably be doing that most of today.

Since my review of a few stories in Stephen King's "Skeleton Crew" has been pushed back, I think I'll just wait and write the review of the entire book at a later day. I'm getting through it slowly but surely, and there are plenty of good stories to review in it. It think it would be a shame not to at least gloss over a few of the ones I read recently.

Oh yes, speaking of free time and reading "Skeleton Crew," the beach trip went very well. I haven't had such a relaxing trip to the beach in a long time. It was a family trip, but most of the time we were reading, watching movies and television shows, and staying in the house. I did go to the beach and did some swimming. Even though I'm a little squeamish about dark water, it was pretty fun. We went to one shop at Broadway at the Beach where I got a Christopher Walken T-shirt that says, "I have a fever and the prescription is more Cowbell," based on the Saturday Night Live skit. There was a nice fireworks display for the forth of July, and for once, I really did feel like working on my writing. I got most of the outline for this contest written up while I was there, along with a few more notes for the new novel. All and all, a very fun and relaxing trip. It was just what I needed. I hope the next one goes as well.

Well, I'm off to do some writing and WoWing. Wish me luck.

Happy Independence Day!

Well, I don't have much to say for this week, other than I had an excellent time with my friends last night, drinking pineapple rum, watching the Nostalgia Critic, and laughing like a hyena over several Christopher Walken moments. It was the most fun I've had in a long time and I laughed until I thought I was going to be sick. Christopher Walken is "the man."

I'm going to the beach for the forth of July and for my sister's birthday, so I'll be fairly busy packing and getting things arranged for the trip the rest of this week. That's why I've started this blog entry early. It should be a lot of fun to go on another vacation. I'm still hoping to go to Disney and Universal (specifically Universal for Halloween Horror Nights) later in October, but we'll just have to see if the money is there.

I'm making good progress on ideas for my new horror novel. I've come up with back stories for the main characters, the full setting, supernatural and non-supernatural small plot points, but I haven't gotten started yet. The rough plan is to continue working until I have the overarching plot and then start writing it either next week or maybe even at the beach. Sometimes it makes the stories even better when I don't give myself a time limit and write for the simple pleasure of it as part of a vacation.

Speaking of novels and stories, for those who are interested, I'm still waiting for word from Joel before I start submitting "Everburn" to agents. I like getting a second opinion and a cursory proof reading from someone other than myself before I start marketing the story. I've already proofed it myself once, but it needs another proof reading before I can submit it.

Next week, I plan to write a review for Stephen King's "The Mist" and "The Monkey." I read these two stories in his compilation, "Skeleton Crew." I will go ahead and say that I was happy with the Lovecraftian style of "The Mist," but not the way the characters reacted. I thought "The Monkey" was the scariest story I've read in a long time, which is odd since the story is about a possessed toy. Stephen King has a way of making even the most commonly used ideas terrifying. I can only hope by continuing to read his books maybe a small fraction of his talent will somehow rub off on me. Like I said, though, I'll get more into that next week.

In the meantime, Happy Independence Day!

Everburn Sample

Well, I've wanted to pick out a writing sample from the book I just completed and I think this one is it. Even though this comes much later in the book, this is what I consider the turning point of the story, where the characters finally start to figure out what Wildworth is up to and decide to put aside their differences to stand against him.

Basically, what's happened in the story so far, is the main character, Orel, has discovered that he isn't a human being, but a member of the Aves tribe. The Aves were group of human-like beings with large bird wings that possess the ability to communicate with the spirit world and summon nature spirits. Orel's wings were amputated as a child when he fell from the sky during a storm. He grew up thinking he was a normal human being.

When Wildworth, a railroad baron, buys the coal mine that his town depends on, Orel is blackmailed into working for him in Aston City with the deed to the mine. Orel's best friend, Mika, stows away with him and becomes a mechanic for Wildworth in the process. From the moment they began working for Wildworth, they know that something is wrong. The spirits that Orel summoned for him mysteriously disappear and no one knows why he has his Aves workers summon them in the first place. Orel's steam spirit, Arden believes that somehow Wildworth is using the the other spirits to make his "Everburn" fuel.

In this scene, Mika has just witnessed a very bad fight between Orel and one of the other Aves workers named Flynn. Flynn caused a fight between Mika and Orel the previous night by spreading gossip to Mika about Orel's relationship with one of the other Aves workers. Tension is very high between them anyway, so she leaves him to start her job early. In this scene, Mika finally sees the machine that makes the fuel for the first time, and realizes they have every reason to be suspicious of Wildworth's intentions.


Mika walked down the hall trying not to think about the fight, but images from it kept haunting her, flashing before her eyes as she headed towards the machine shop. She could still see the angry yet satisfied expression on Orel’s face as he punched Flynn in the eye, and the ashamed look that replaced it when he saw her watching them. His face was flicked with blood like freckles on the face of a young boy, and that only added to his childlike expression of being caught and ashamed. Both of the fighters appeared to be in bad shape, but she knew who started it from the moment she saw them.

Mika thought, “I started it. I never should’ve told Orel anything. He thought I left because of Flynn, so he took it out on him. This is my fault entirely, and somehow I’m going to make up for it.”

Mika quickly composed herself as she entered the mechanics’ workshop. The huge warehouse still caught her off guard. It was attached to the Wildworth building and was at least five stories high, but as tall as it was, it was only one floor. The ceiling rose up, like an airplane hanger, but there was a pulley system that would allow the ceiling of the building to open up as well.

“The Everest,” Wildworth’s private zeppelin, sat in the corner, like a large silver buzzard watching them work. Still, there was also more than enough room for the damaged boilers, Wildworth’s steam powered carriage, and even the caboose of Wildworth’s private train, which was waiting to be serviced. There was even a normal propeller powered blimp hanging off to the side on the ceiling called “The Edwin,” named after Jones’ first name.

Something about the drafty, leaky machine shop reminded her of a tomb. Her Father’s workshop always seemed warm and welcoming, despite his presence in it, but here she felt as though the machines themselves were watching, scrutinizing her every move with their clear glossy windows for eyes. The others in the shop seemed to notice it too and the other mechanics often laughed loudly at the most foolish of jokes, if nothing more than to cut through the eerie silence.

The atmosphere around her made Mika feel even worse, but it wouldn’t do for the others to see a vulnerable expression on her face. To gain their trust she was very careful to come across as “just another one of the guys.” So far, it seemed to be working. When she first came in, she was surprised to see that most of the men were human instead of Aves, and they greeted her with catcalls, but the moment she proved herself to be skillful and tough, they accepted her immediately. She was glad to see that she was actually more skilled than many of the men that Wildworth hired. The foreman seemed to know it as well.

He called to Mika, “Hey, Mika, I told you, only one hour for lunch…”

Mika said, “Sorry, Mr. Acres. There was a fight in the hallway, so I stopped to watch. Two Aves were beating the crap out of each other.”

Mr. Acres chuckled and said, “And I missed it? Too bad, that’s always quite a sight and it doesn’t happen very often. Plus, it's always fun to bet on the winner.”

Mika said, “I didn’t know they could move so fast, or hit so hard.”

Mr. Acres said, “Yeah, I certainly wouldn’t want to pick a fight with one.”

One of the few Aves mechanics laughed from the top of the zeppelin and yelled, “Yeah, normally you wouldn’t last a second, but I’ll bet if you hit one of us with that beer belly of yours, you might just win the fight. You do have a lot of weight to throw around…”

There was a roar of approval from the other mechanics.

Mr. Acres shouted, “Corbin, I asked you to check the lining of the zeppelin, not gab all day long.”

Corbin said, “Yeah, yeah.”

Mr. Acres said, “Well, I’m glad you’re here, Mika. Mr. Jones told me to pick a mechanic to work on the big machine, and today it’s you. Think of it as your initiation.”

There was something very solemn in his expression that Mika didn’t like.

She said, “The big machine? What’s that?”

Mr. Acres ran a dirty rag across his forehead and said, “It’s the most important machine in the building. It’s where Wildworth produces the Everburn fuel.”

Mika asked, “Oh, so will I get to see how the fuel is made?”

Mr. Acres said, “No, and don’t you ask about it either. Wildworth keeps that secret close to the chest, he does. Everyone here has worked on the machine before, but none of us know how he makes the stuff.”

Mika asked, “Then who makes the fuel?”

Mr. Acres whispered, “I hear Wildworth and Jones make it themselves.”

Mika said, “But Jones is a doctor and Wildworth doesn’t strike me as the type to know much about fuel…”

Mr. Acres said, “From what I know of Wildworth. I think he knows a little bit about everything.”

Mika said, “So what do we repair on the machine?”

Mr. Acres said, “The parts of the machine we work on are the manufacturing parts. Basically, there are several large metal tubs already filled with fuel and the liquid is pumped into storage barrels that run along a conveyor belt beneath it. There’s also another part of the machine that sprays the fuel onto pieces of coal. I’m not sure if it’s the sprayer that’s broken this time or the conveyor belt. Either way, it shouldn’t be hard for you to fix.”

Mika said, “Okay, then I’ll do my best.”

Mr. Acres said, “I know you will. That’s why I picked you. Jones will be along any minute to get you. Now, I want you to be on your best behavior. Don’t ask about how they make the fuel, don’t stare at things that don’t concern your job—get in, get out, no fucking about. Got it?”

Mika said, “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Mr. Acres mumbled, “Trust me, once you get in that place, you’ll want to get out as fast as you can…”

Mika was about to ask Mr. Acres what he meant when Jones came through the door.

He said, “Mrs. Mika, please follow me.”

Mika followed Jones back into the main building down the familiar hallways and stairwells. As they went, she noticed some of the Aves pointing at her and whispering. She didn’t have to hear them to know what they were whispering about. Now, instead of simply being the only human living among them, she was the girl that Orel had fought with Flynn over. The thought made her feel slightly ill. She wanted her own chance to prove herself to them, but it seemed that her worth was proven for her, and something about the thought didn’t sit well. It made her suddenly very glad that she wasn’t spending another night with Orel.

They turned to a door at the end of the hallway on the first floor. There were two guards with large guns standing in front of it. The guns immediately drew Mika’s eyes. Both guards had what looked like smaller versions of Gatling guns. The firing mechanism was clearly steam powered, as with most guns. It would unleash a full round of bullets with just a pull of the trigger. The young guard stroked his gun suggestively, causing Mika to blush and quickly look away. Jones took a small silver key from a chain around his neck and unlocked the door, revealing a long spiral stairwell that seemed to stretch two floors beneath them.

Jones answered her question before she could ask, “The basement has to be tall to accommodate the machine.”

Mika said, “So this building is more like twelve floors then.”

Jones said, “Thirteen if you count the clock tower.”

As soon as they reached the bottom floor, Mika stopped in her tracks. There were two more guards standing in front of the second door, but this set was wearing what appeared to be metal body armor. Still, from the wires running from one part of the armor to the next, and the metals springs and small pistons she could see, they were mechanized suits meant to enhance the wearer’s strength. There wore the same mini-Gatling guns attached to the armor of their right arms, while the left arm had what appeared to be a large metal gauntlet with a retractable blade built into it. She put her hands up in a helpless motion when they saw her, but Jones waved them away with a gesture.

Jones said, “You’ll have to excuse all of the security. As I’m sure Acres already told you, this is where we make our fuel and there are a lot of companies that would love to know exactly how we do it.”

He pulled the silver key from around his neck and paused before putting it in the lock.

Jones turned to Mika and said, “Before you go in, I need you to swear that you won’t tell a soul what you see in here—I mean that Mika, not a soul.”

Mika said, “From what I hear, I’m not going to see anything.”

Jones said, “Please, don’t make this difficult, Mika…”

Mika said, “I swear.”

Jones motioned to the guards and said, “Good, these men will hold you to that.”

The moment Mika entered the room, she felt as though she walked through a physical cobweb. Energy seemed to tingle through her body and it made her shudder. The temperature in the room was too cool, as though she had walked outside, and yet the room wasn’t drafty. It was entirely enclosed. Every strange feeling she had ever had in town when the spirits were nearby came back to her immediately in a rush that almost made her want to cry. The feeling also made her feel sick to her stomach. It halted her in her tracks and she felt herself rubbing her arms instinctively.

Mika looked around, wary. She felt as though she was being watched, but there was no movement in the corner of her eyes, and the silence was oppressive. The silence, however, wasn’t the only thing that felt oppressive. It was as though the very air around her was heavy, pushing down on her shoulders. The high ceiling was dizzying, and the only thing that kept her on her feet was the unreal sight in front of her.

The machine took up the entire room. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed radiate an ominous feeling. She wondered if it was haunted, but something about the machine seemed too still and silent for even that. It was as though it sucked away any life and sound, and that everything about it was dead. At one time, the pipes were probably copper, but now they were a corroded green and brown color that surprised her. The machine looked ancient, but from what the other mechanics said, Wildworth had only recently created his fuel. He was still testing the effects of it because his clients were complaining that the fuel was sometimes unstable.

She could see the general layout of the machine. The large basins that were bolted to the walls were what contained the fuel. One half of the machine was devoted to packaging smaller amounts of fuel into steel barrels for transport, while the other side had a hose for spraying fuel onto a conveyor belt of coal. The entire machine was automated. Steam boilers powered the pulleys and conveyor belts, and, there was a pipe to allow steam to escape that ran all the way to the roof as a smokestack. Still, she could see why Wildworth needed his mechanics. If there was ever a catastrophic failure, the entire machine would have to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Jones said, “I know. It’s quite a sight. You get used to it. What we need you to do is work on the spraying nozzle. It’s clogged up. Once you’re done with that, if you wouldn’t mind giving the whole machine a quick look over, I’d really appreciate it. I have a checklist that I usually have the foreman fill out, but if you think you can handle it, I’ll let you give it a try.”

Mika took the checklist absently and said, “Yes, of course.”

Mika tried to take in her surroundings as she walked towards the machine. It seemed there was an elevator leading from another part of the building to the basement floor because there was a small elevator behind her. Still, she knew she hadn’t seen an elevator anywhere else in the building. Then, she saw the outline on the floor. It almost blended into the dark bedrock of the ground, but it was definitely there. There was a pattern carved into the floor and it looked like the biggest summoning circle she had ever seen, circling all around the perimeter of the machine. Still, as she stared at the intricate patterns, she realized it wasn’t a summoning circle at all. She had never seen anything like it before, and she didn’t want to cross it.

Jones asked, “Is something wrong, Mrs. Mika?’

Mika said, “Orel always told me never to step across these lines.”

Jones said, “Not to worry. The circle isn’t active right now.”

Mika cast a furtive glance at Jones but then nodded and crossed the line. The moment she did, once again she got the strange feeling of crossing through an invisible barrier. She noticed her hair became charged with static, strands slowly lifting like puppets on transparent strings. The moment she touched the metal of the machine she got a nasty shock, but that wasn’t what made her gasp in surprise. There was something horrible about it, as though she heard a scream the moment the static charge hit her finger.

Mika thought, “Fast, work fast! I need to get out of here or I’ll lose my mind.”

Mika continued to glance at Jones as she started twisting the nozzle free of the spraying hose, but Jones wasn’t looking at her. He appeared to be glancing at the machine and running through his own personal check list. No, the feeling of being watched wasn’t coming from Jones. Instead, she thought that she knew where it was coming from, somewhere on the opposite wall with the fuel basins. Mika didn’t know why, but she felt like there was an invisible audience of people watching her, not only watching her, but wishing that she would see them.

Mika felt the nozzle come loose from the hose and began to poke around it with her fingers. She felt something smooth with ridges lodged in the nozzle, so she began prying at it with her tools. After a few minutes of fighting with it, she finally pulled the object out. She stared intently at it for a moment, not sure what she was looking at. It was a perfectly round ball of metal, like a ball for a musket, but there were lovely swirling patterns all over it. Someone clearly took time to make the markings, but how did it get in the machine? She examined the rest of the nozzle. There were also metal shavings that clearly came from the small metal ball.

Mika looked over at Jones. He was still glancing at the other side of the machine. Mika quickly put the small object in the pocket of her mechanic uniform and continued her work. There were more metal shavings inside of the tube and some very strange residue. For a moment, in the dim light, she thought the residue glowed green on her fingertips, but then it seemed nothing more than nasty grime created by moldy water.

Jones asked, “Did you find the blockage?”

Mika said, “Yes, some odd metal shavings and some residue. I’m guessing they came from the inside of the basins, but I don’t know what could’ve caused them.”

Jones said, “Ah, we’ve had that sort of thing happen before. I’ll check on it personally later. We’ll have a test of the nozzle and then you can get to the checklist.”

Mika said, “Thank you, Sir.”

Jones twisted a lever and steam billowed through the pipes, powering the machine. For a moment Mika forgot her fear, awestruck by the design. She had never seen a totally automated machine before. It was as though the parts of the machine had their own rhythm, twisting and pulling in time with one another. Still, suddenly she heard a shrill screeching sound, like the sound of an animal in pain, or a child crying. She put her hands over her ears.

Jones shouted, “That sound is one of the traits of Everburn fuel, kind of like a side effect of the process. Don’t worry about it.”

Mika nodded and hesitantly forced her hands away from her ears. Whether it was a natural sound or not, it sounded so much like a real scream it tugged on the empathetic parts of her mind, making her want to do anything to stop it. She followed the path of the steam with her mind, noticing a release valve on one of the large tubs of fuel in front of her. The valve rotated just enough for a hose full of fuel and then closed back up, awaiting the next burst of steam for the next rotation. The nozzle lifted up with the pressure of the fuel behind it, and began spraying a small stack of coal, lashing back and forth like the tail of a hungry lion.

Jones said, “Excellent work, Mika. Now, while the machine is running, please complete your checklist.”

Mika went through the checklist, trying to imagine herself as a part of the machine, trying desperately to separate her conflicting emotions from her professional attitude. She still felt dizzy and slightly nauseated, and something about the entire process made her feel dirty. She couldn’t place anything wrong with the machine or the fuel itself, but there was definitely something wrong with that summoning circle.

Mika thought, “Prematurely corroded pipes, check, and elaborate cable pulley system, check. There’s a loose portion on the conveyor belt where one of the barrels might eventually tip over if not straightened out—I’d better write that one down, but God please don’t let me have to fix it…”

Mika didn’t even notice Jones was looking over her shoulder. His voice made her jump.

Jones said, “You noticed the loose conveyor belt. I’m impressed. You’ve already written a very thorough report, and you’ve had one of the fastest times fixing the machine. I think we’ve found our new machine mechanic.”

Mika said, “Oh, not me. I’m not nearly as experienced as some of the others.”

Jones said, “Don’t be so modest. This is the highest paying job in the entire facility, and I think you’re the right one for it.”

Mika thought, “I can’t say yes, there’s no way I could do this almost every day. But, if I say no, Jones will be suspicious, and I already owe him my life for taking care of my wounds and for allowing me to stay here…”

Mika said, “I don’t know how to explain it, Mr. Jones, but this floor really unnerves me. Ever since I came down here, I feel very out of my element.”

Jones said, “I thought you might. I felt that way the first time I came down here as well.”

Mika asked, “Really?”

Jones said, “It might be the fumes from the fuel, or just the fact we’re so far below ground, but it makes you feel trapped and nervous. Don’t worry. Those feelings eventually pass. I’ll understand if you don’t like the responsibility of being the primary mechanic of this machine, but please, don’t pass up a good opportunity just because you have goose bumps.”

Mika chuckled. She could tell it was a nervous chuckle, but Jones seemed to think it was legitimate.

Mika said, “I wouldn’t pass up such a good opportunity because of that. I just, well, it’s like you said, that’s a lot of responsibility, and I just started working here.”

Jones said, “That’s true, you did only just start working last night—and, goodness, it’s already three o’clock. You must be exhausted, especially with your injuries. Why don’t you take tomorrow off and maybe the next day? That way, you can take your time making the decision, and I’ll be sure that a nice hot meal is sent to your room tonight.”

Mika said, “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

Mr. Jones said, “No, thank you. And, take care, but remember your promise.”

Mika said, “I will. Mr. Jones, may I please leave the facility to buy some supplies?”

Mr. Jones sighed and said, “I’m sorry, Mika. The rules specifically state that none of our workers can leave the building. The rule is mostly just to keep people from knowing about the amount of Aves working here, but I can’t make any exceptions.”

Mika tried not to show the disappointment she felt on her face. She needed an escape, anything to forget about the terrible machine. Then, it came to her. There was a way that she could apologize to Flynn and Orel, and a way for her to forget her problems at the same time.

Mika asked, “Then, will you please do something for me?”

Mr. Jones said, “Anything. What do you need?”

Mika said, “I want a sketchpad and some charcoal pencils. I’d also like a bottle of the best vintage wine that my wages can buy and a bottle of the best whiskey I can buy…”

Mr. Jones pulled out a notepad and Mika waited until he finished writing to continue.

“A cube of lightweight wood good for carving and a knife for whittling. Also, a set of small watchmaker’s tools, normal tools, and gears and springs of varying sizes for watches. Oh yes, and some paint of varying colors, the faster it dries, the better.”

Mr. Jones said, “Your wages should cover most of it, though probably not the watchmaking tools. Still, I’m sure I can work out a payment schedule and go ahead and purchase them, but may I ask why?”

Mika said, “My favorite hobby back home was to make mechanical toys. The wood is for the body of the toy, and the gears and springs are for the interior to make it move. I can craft metal toys too, but I don’t think I have the money to buy the kind of tools I would need for that. The watch tools and regular tools are for putting it together, the paints are to decorate it, and the two bottles of liquor are gifts. The sketchpad is one of the few things I left behind that I’m wishing I took with me.”

Mr. Jones said, “They’ll be delivered with your meal tonight. For now, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Mika left the room, she desperately fought off the urge to run. She could still hear the sound of gears and pulleys grinding and thumping behind her. She had never noticed the sound before, but now that she had heard it, she could hear it in the very floor beneath her feet. Still, the worst sound by far was the sound of the Everburn fuel itself, screeching like a person in pain, screaming for anyone to help. The sound wasn’t natural, not natural at all. As soon as she reached the deserted Aves hallways, she burst into tears and began to run for her room.

What's Happening...

Well, this is just going to be a short entry. There isn't much to say about this week. I finished "Fool Moon," Book 2 of the Dresden Files. It was very good and, like I said, I'll write a review of the series once I finish. From what I understand the books keep getting better and better, and so far I really enjoyed the first two, so I'm looking forward to the others.

Tomorrow, we're going to Spartanburg to do a little ghost hunting. I'm excited about it. Hopefully we'll have more luck than usual, but even if not, it should be fun. We're checking out an eerie old cemetery and possibly one or two other places while we're there. We're borrowing an infrared camera this time, so at least we have better equipment than usual. Wish us luck.

As for the writing, I still am brainstorming about a horror novel. I'm trying not to stress over it. The idea will eventually come to me.

It is Finished...

This is just a short blog entry to let you know that "Everburn" is finished.

While I really enjoyed writing this story, I got snagged on the ending for a little while. By the time I finished entirely, I was getting a little tired of my setting. I always have this problem. Even though I love Steampunk, after writing a full book in the genre, I need a little break. So, long story short I'm taking a little break from writing this week, proofing the book next week, then having my husband read it for content afterward. And now, it's time to change genres. (I say this in the Mad Hatter voice, like changing seats at the tea party.) Even though I do fully intend to make this book into a trilogy, and have the notes to start the second book, I just really need a break. I love Steampunk too much to burn myself out on it.

I think, for the next novel, I'm going back to horror. I've written many horror stories and they are really what I consider myself best at writing. Still, I've never been able to come up with a concept for a book. (I do have a Lovecraftian novel that's almost finished, but right now I'm referring to traditional horror.) Most of my horror stories are pretty long. I think the longest one was about thirty pages, but I've never tried to write that style of novel. It should be a challenge, and I like challenges.

So, I'll keep you posted on how it's going. I might even add a writing sample from it later, and possibly a sneak peak at Everburn after I'm done proofing. In the meantime, keep reading and writing. And, based on what I've read of the first and second book, I highly recommend "The Dresden Files." (I'll try to write a review of that later.)