Archive for the Short Story Category

I Died Once 5th Edition, Now On Amazon

Posted in I Died Once, Novella, Self Publishing, Short Story, Story, Writing on March 20, 2019 by darkjade68


My 5th Edition (Altered Cover) I Died Once Novella Is Now Available On Amazon HERE


Posted in I Died Once, Novella, Self Publishing, Short Story, Story, Writing on March 12, 2019 by darkjade68


‘I DIED ONCE’ is a Quick Read, but a Poignant One I Think

Check Out The Prologue & Chapter I Below!


I Died Once

A Novella 

By James Mahoney


Mady was a Dark Child…

She often sat alone in her bedroom, on the floor, sorting through this or that. Generally some sort of pharmaceuticals.

It’s good that she was never allowed to own a cat… or a fish… or any other sort of domestic animal, as they would have likely ended up at the end of some sort of experimentation… with drastic results.

It’s not that she’s “mean” per-se… No.

It’s more that she’s disjointed, an outcast really, from her own home…

From her mother’s heart.

Yes, Mady is a dark one, but what else was she to be in a world devoid of light.



State Of Murder

I sat alone. Legs crossed in my short black skirt in the waiting room of yet another know-all, fix-all, quack of my mother’s finding.

I am a fifteen year old girl, five foot eight, lean, dark haired, blue eyed, with skin not as fair as I might like.

I crossed my arms tightly, feeling the softness of my dark blue sweater, a gift from my father’s mother at Christmas some two or three years ago.

My father. What a joke that is. A pilot in Africa, they say. How nondescript.

“Caroline Monroe,” the nurse called out.

I pretended not to hear her. Besides, my name is Mady. My mother’s, mother’s, mother’s name. Madeline, that is.

“Excuse me miss, are you Miss Caroline

Monroe?”, the nurse spoke as she leaned over me.

“Mady,” I replied.

“Oh yes, your mother mentioned you go by Mady.”

“Nice of you to listen,” I spat, rising from my seat and grabbing my small blue rhinestone bag. A gift from a cousin, well, actually, I took it.

The next two or so hours were filled with many, many questions asked by the uninterested Doctor Spiner, and let’s face it, who cares what the answers were. In the end it would all be the same.

“Now Caroline…”

“Mady!” I replied adamantly.

“Oh yes, your mother mentioned that you prefer your middle name.”

“Did she, now,” I sighed.

“Now Mady, I want you to take two of these pills twice a day.” He handed me a large bottle. “They will help you to relax.”

On the long ride home, and going anywhere with my mother was a long ride, I stared blankly out the window, which was open slightly. Discreetly, I would drop one pill after another onto the outside road. Plink Plink Plink

When we arrived at my mother’s home, a large estate left to her from her industrious father, I quickly made my way up the long, winding stairs, “Now Mady…,” but not quick enough.

I turned to face her. Now, my mother has a long faced countenance and over dresses for every occasion. On this occasion she was wearing a ball gown. “Yes mother,” I replied.

“Betsy is preparing a fine dinner; do be back down in no more than 15 minutes, will you darling.”

“Okey Dokey,” I replied and turned away.

“Your father and I shall be going out.”

I turned and faced her once more. “Fred is not my father.”

“Oh Mady, must you be so…”

“Honest? Yes,” I interjected.

“I was going to say…” she started to say, but I was already up the stairs and into my room. Slam!

As I sat alone in the dark staring at the ceiling, I could hear Betsy quietly enter and set a tray of food on my desk. She always did. Betsy wasn’t so bad, but she wasn’t worth staying for.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a big fluffy roll, how delightful. Tommy would really like this.

Just then a small pebble struck my window, as it did every evening at this hour. I opened my window to see Tommy Wilkens standing down below, as he always did. I quickly lowered the

food tray down to him, and then back up once he’d emptied it.

“Thank you, Mady,” he whispered just audibly enough that I should hear him.  I waved to him as he snuck off to his home some one or two miles down the road.

Tommy’s family lived in a back shack on the Johnson’s estate.  His father was their gardener, but they were very poor, being at the receiving end of the tight fisted Johnsons. I had fed him for years. Who would feed him when I was gone?

When midnight struck, I made my way to our large pool in the back, beyond Mother’s roses. Before the pool, I stripped down completely. Why ruin a perfectly good set of flannel pajamas? And dove in…

Under the water it was beautiful and quiet. Above, I could see all the brilliant stars. Now, I’m a decent swimmer, so this may take a few minutes, as drowning one-self is tricky business.

That’s when I heard the scream.


I Died Once is my baby… My First ever Self-Published Novella

You Can Pick Up a Copy With My New Altered 5th Edition Cover For $6 @ My Black Orc Gaming Site Here

All Sales will go towards the purchase of a New Laptop, which I desperately need, lol

Thanks for your Support

DarkJade- (James Mahoney)

The Black Knight & The Princess In White

Posted in Blog Series, Fantasy, Knights, Short Story, Story, The Black Knight, Writing with tags , , on October 11, 2016 by darkjade68


The Black Knight & The Princess In White

by DarkJade

There Once Was A Princess…

In A Far Away Land…


Across A Great Desert…


Covered In White Sand


Under A Dark Black Sky…

With Stars That Winked From Above…


And A Kingdom Below Them…

Whose People Did Love…


This Girl

Though She Was Young…

Less Years Than Fingers On Her Hands…

Berber nomad dune portrait, Sahara Desert, Morocco

She Brought To All Smiles…

Across This Great Land


Her Father, The  King, Would Come To Her Each Night…

And Tell Her Great Tales…


Of Bravery… Magic… And Light


Her Eyes Opened Wide…

Hanging On Every Word…


Her Father’s Shadows Cast…

Upon The Walls So Near


And Just As All Seemed Lost…

The  Princess’s Eyes Filled With Tears…

But Relief Closely Followed…


Behind Her Father’s Beard…

As The Heroes Prevailed…


Magical Creatures Unvailed


The Night Would Come To A Hush…


Her Pillow Grew Softer…

Her Blankets So Warm…


Safely Tucked Away…

Behind These Great Walls…



It Was A Cool Desert Night…

Just As Elinque’s Eyes Began To Fall…


There Was A Noise…


“Don’t Worry At All…” Her Father Then Spoke…

“It’s Nothing At All…”

He Left Her Chamber…

She Was Barely Awake…


Six Dark Figures Surrounded Him…

Come For The King, No Mistake

As She Waited For Him To Return…

Her Eyelids Grew Heavy…


Dream Dust Inlaid…

…She Faded Away

To Sleep…

To Sleep


An Hour Later…

She Awoke To Orange Light…

The Palace On Fire…

The Help In Fright


From The Shadows Came A Man…

She Knew Only By Sight…

A Silver Bearded Healer…


Some Called A Knight

“Come Child Don’t Make A Sound…”

He Spoke As He Swept Me Up…

“They’re Looking For You…”


We Went Out The Window…

Secured By A Rope

Down Below Lit By Star Light…


There Was A Great White Horse…

“You Must Ride My Dear…”

“And Don’t Look Back…”


He Placed Me Upon It

And Slid A Red Jeweled Necklace Into My Hand

“Never Lose This…”

He Spoke With A Slight Smile Upon His Face


The Shadow Men Suddenly Appeared…

As He Sent Me On My Way…

His Sword Drawn He Fought Them…

And Fell To Their Blades

Alone I Rode…

For What Felt Like Days…


The Sun Would Rise…

I Fell Into A Haze

“What Would Become Of Me…”

“Where Was My Father…”

I Shall Never Forget This Night

I Shall Never Forget This Knight


PICTURE CREDIT – Blond Little Girl, White Desert, Star Filled Sky, Desert Kingdom, Desert Boy In Blue, Arab Warrior, Bravery, Excited, King Shadows, Lost, Genie, Sleeping, December, Sleepy, Arab Man, Figures, Dream Dust, Fire, Grey, Knight, Window, Horse, Necklace,

My “I Died Once” Novella – 3rd Edition (Altered Cover Color)

Posted in 3rd Edition, I Died Once, James Mahoney, Novella, Short Story, Story on October 16, 2014 by darkjade68

My “I Died Once” Novella – 3rd Edition (Altered Cover Color)

Soon I will be Self-Publishing My 3rd Edition “I Died Once” Novella, and thought I’d share with you a couple possible Covers

But First, here’s the Original (Current)

(Front And Back)

Cover C1This Second One is something My Co-Designer sent me, where we’ve just changed the color of the back cover, and Tinted the Front Cover a bit

I Died Once Cover - BlueAnd Finally what stemmed this idea, though I’ve always liked changing things up once in a while like I did with my Poetry Book “Winter, Lust, And Wonder”‘s Black Cover, is the Cover Alterations I’d Like To See

(This Is Just The Original Art Altered, The Actual Cover Will Of Course Have The Title, And A Back Cover Which Will Likely Be A Blue Color)

I Died Once Alternate Color 2I just love the color alteration above… Which I believe was a fluke, as I was looking at some files in my DropBox, and one of the covers took on this color… But when you open the actual file, it looks like the Original Version

Very Strange, but I’ve gone ahead and asked both my Co-Cover Designer, as well as the Original Drawing Artist Herself, if they’d be able to alter the image so that it looks like that

We Shall See

The New 3rd Edition of “I Died Once” will be $5.95 if you’re interested in Pre-Ordering (Though The Final Cover Is Yet To Be Determined), Plus Shipping

The Original Copies of the 3rd Edition Will Be Signed By Me As Well

If You’re Interested in Pre-Ordering you can E-mail Me at

I shall keep all of you updated as the New Cover Develops


Hank Grady

Posted in Entertainment, Fiction, Life, Short Story with tags on March 4, 2013 by darkjade68

7.1 2Hank Grady

by DarkJade

Cleveland Ohio

A Graveyard

Hank Grady, a 70 something year old man, stands at the back of a group of people attending an outside burial service.

His hair once blond, now silver, he’s wearing a long grey wool coat, and a soft black scarf.

Forty five of Susan’s closest friends had shown up to her service.

Wow, I never realized she knew so many people.

After being trapped in that marriage for some 22 years, where she basically wasn’t able to have friends, or her husband Budd would find someway to use it against her… And the beatings would begin again.

Of course if I knew that was going on all those years, I would have intervened.

Or would I have…

Anyway, it’s hard to believe that in the last five years of her life, those precious five years after she finally left Budd, she was able to make as many friends as all this.

But she was nice.

Hank reaches up and presses a few of his fingers against the soft black scarf around his neck.

In all the years I’ve lived in Cleveland, I can’t say I’ve ever worn a scarf…

But as soon as I arrived here today, Susan’s Granddaughter, Margarette, ran up and handed it to me.

I never had any kids of my own… No time.

I spent 40 some odd years in the Health Insurance game.

It wasn’t all that exciting but… it was a living.

And I’ve been married not three, but four times.

But they’re all gone now.

Not dead… Well… One of them did pass from the Big C last year.


But what I mean is, they’re no longer in my life.

Which is strange… As I still love each of them as I did when we spent time together.

Life is strange.

Or maybe not.

Maybe I’m the odd one.

The services come to an end, and people slowly depart, some of them shaking Hank’s hand as they pass.

He notes Susan’s Grandchildren getting into a family car with her eldest son, Bob.

Bob waves.

Hank waves back.

Once all have left, Hank wanders over to the grave site where his Sister Susan has been lowered into, and buried.

He looks down at the ground, looking at the tombstone plate cement slab on the ground.

Here Lays Susan Bella Grady

Daughter of Joe and Barbi Grady

Mother of Bob, and Justin Grady

Grandmother of Margarette, Bethany, and Chelsey Grady

Sister of Hank Grady


Strange that she passed before me.

Sometimes I wonder if I just happened to get lucky on the gene pool side of things.

Hank turns and walks towards a convertible car.

I mean, sure I’ve had my share of health issues… but here I am… and she is not.

Hank reaches into his right hand jacket pocket, and brings out a pair of keys.

As he reaches to stick them in the convertible’s door, he stops.

I don’t own a convertible.

Ten Minutes Later

Hank’s Brown Sedan

Hank is sitting at a green light.


The car behind him’s horn wakes him from his daze, he steps slowly on the gas, and continues onto a freeway on ramp.

I’ve probably driven on this freeway 10,000 times… It passes right by Bob’s house.

And yet I’ve probably spent a total of four or five times with Susan’s Grand Kids.

I mean… They’re not my Grand Kids… But I am their Grand Uncle… If there is such a thing.

What’s so great about selling insurance, that I didn’t make room in my life to see those kids.

Or Bob or Justin for that matter.


I think he’s still in rehab.

All that drinking…

I imagine those boys got there share of beatings from Budd as well…

If I only knew…

I still probably wouldn’t have done anything.

They weren’t my kids… Right? That’s a nice lame excuse I used for 40 years.

I think I’m done with that lame excuse.

Hank picks up his cell phone and dials Bob.

“Hi Bob… It’s your Uncle Hank… Yeah… Yeah.”

Hank pulls into a driveway of a small home, gets out, and goes into the house… Still talking to Bob as he goes.

“Listen, Bob… What are the chances I can pull Margarette, Bethany, and Chelsey out of school tomorrow… Take them to a park… And maybe lunch… Or a movie?” asks Hank as he takes off his long coat, and turns on his t.v.

“I’m retired now, my schedule is open… I’d like to see them… Then maybe you and Elizabeth for dinner afterwards.”

“Yeah… Yeah… Sounds good… I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning then… Yeah… Love you too.”

Hank takes a beer out of the fridge, and sits in front of the t.v.

“I need to sell this house,” he speaks as he turns the t.v. onto the golf channel.




Mists Of Truth

Posted in Entertainment, Fiction, Life, Love, Music, Short Story with tags on January 23, 2013 by darkjade68

Jake1Mists Of Truth

by DarkJade

A young, dark haired man lays in a dark room, listening to “Alice In Chains”, and waiting for his friend to get there.

In his right hand he’s holding a cigarette, as he takes a hit and gazes out the nearby window, where the sky is full of stars.






Finally there’s knock on the door…

He jumps up, and switches the Music to “Mazzy Star”…

…then opens the door.

A young blond haired girl, with blue streaks in her hair, is there.

“Hi Stacey…” speaks the young man.

“Hi Jake…” she replies.

“Come in…” he says.

She steps inside “No lights?”

“You know me,” Jake replies.

“I did for a while… Yeah,” she replies.

He hands her a cigarette, and lays back on the floor.

She steps over to the window “Do you mind if I open this? There’s a nice cool breeze goin on out there.”

“Uh… Sure,” he replies.

She opens the window, sticks her head out, and takes a deep breath in, her eyes closed…

Meanwhile Jake is laying on the floor, taking an occasional hit off his cigarette, his eyes closed, listening to the song.

The next thing he knows she’s laying beside him.

“Mazzy…” she says.

“Yeah…” replies Jake.

“You put this on for me… Didn’t you,” she says.

He opens his eyes, barely able to see her by star light “Yeah,” he replies.

Another song comes on.

She smiles… “You’re sweet Jake… Always were.”

He smiles, and blushes a bit in the darkness “Maybe,” he replies.

They lay there for a bit, just listening to the music, and feeling the cool night air come into the room.

“Why did we stop doing this?” she asks.

“Oh… I don’t know… Life happens… Sometimes,” he replies.

“Yeah…” she takes a hit off her cigarette “I guess.”

“So are you really leaving?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer right away “Yeah.”

They sit and listen for a bit more… “I’ve missed Mazzy” he says.

She looks over at him and smiles “Yeah.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want to do?” he asks.

She stares out at the stars… “Yeah.”

Some moments go by…

“Well… I will miss you,” Jake says, and looks over at Stacey.

She looks over at him as well… “I will miss you too Jake…”

She takes his hand, and they listen to the music into the night…

No more conversation… Only soft music, and holding hands.



Ego In A New Light… Ayn Rand’s “Anthem”

Posted in Book Review, Editorial, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Novella, Science Fiction, Short Story, Writing with tags on January 12, 2013 by darkjade68


“He lived in the dark ages of future. In a loveless world he dared to love the woman of his choice. In an age that had lost all trace of science and civilization he had the courage to seek and find knowledge. But these were not the crimes for which he would be hunted. He was marked for death because he had committed the unpardonable sin: he had stood forth from the mindless human herd. He was a man alone.” TAKEN FROM THE BACK COVER OF THE CENTENNIAL EDITION OF THIS BOOK

Ego In A New Light… Ayn Rand’s “Anthem”

I’m the first to admit that I don’t read all that much… I never have. I’ve always heard that the best Writers, or at least Most Writers, are also ‘avid’ readers.

But for me, Math, and Creative Writing were my best areas in school.

A’s and B’s in Math, and B+’s in Creative Writing.

D’s and C’s in Grammar, Lol.

My mind just worked a certain way.

That said, though I’ve averaged over 1,000 words a day in the last 17 months in what has been the beginning of my pursuit of being a Writer for a living, I just don’t read very much.

Either I get sleepy when I try, or I feel like “You should be Writing, not Reading”… And so it’s gone, Lol

mzl.dbvwkaekHowever, for Christmas, a very good friend of mine sent me a copy of Ayn Rand’s “Anthem”.

The “Centennial Edition” to be precise.

Which includes both her Original 1938, England Published Version in the back of the book with her notes on it showing some changes she had made in the style of it (Not the Content/Or meaning). But the Edited/Style updated version is the main version in the front of the book.

That said, my friend, knowing that I’m not all that much of a Reader, but also knowing that I have some Familiarity with Ayn Rand, primarily from my upbringing, and most recently from seeing the New “Atlas Shrugged” Film (Part I, I haven’t seen Part II yet).

Sent me Ayn Rand’s “Anthem”, because she knew that it was one of her Shorter Books, and thus I might end up reading it.

My History With Ayn Rand;

Though limited, I do have some history in regards to Ayn Rand.

I’ve never before read any of her books (Until now), but My Boss, and Mom’s Boyfriend of 30+ years, is indeed an Avid Reader, and had read many of her books years ago.

fountainhead1In fact, “The Fountain Head” was a major influence on him in college, which lead him to switching his Major in Art (I believe it was Art), to Majoring in Architecture. (I believe the main character in The Fountainhead is an Architect)

30+ Years Later, he’s one of the Best, most Interesting Architects I’ve ever been exposed to.

Moving on… My Mom and her Boyfriend actually met one another at was called a “Workshop”… This Workshop was run by a Psychologist, who not only Practiced Counseling, but also ran Workshops based on the work of a man named ‘Nathaniel Branden‘.

And Nathaniel Branden actually was in a relationship with Ayn Rand many years back.

And so you see, I definitely had my exposure in regards to Ayn Rand.

All indirectly… And yet, exposure none the less.

My Opinion/Review of “Anthem”;

My Friend was right… Due to it’s length, who had Written it, and who had Given me the book, these things lead to me actually making the time to read it.

Some of the Introduction a couple weeks ago, and the rest of the Introduction, the Author’s Forward, and the Newer Edited Version of the Story Late Yesterday Afternoon/Last Night.

The Central Message;

Now like I say, I’m not much of a Reader (Though I am an Avid Film Watcher), and this is my First Ever Book Review… But I’d say the Central Message in this book is based on Ayn Rand’s Philosophy of Objectivism.

Objectivism is a philosophy created by Russian-American philosopher and novelist Ayn Rand (1905–1982). Objectivism’s central tenets are that reality exists independent of consciousness, that human beings have direct contact with reality through sense perception, that one can attain objective knowledge from perception through the process of concept formation and inductive logic, that the proper moral purpose of one’s life is the pursuit of one’s own happiness (or rational self-interest), that the only social system consistent with this morality is full respect for individual rights embodied in laissez-fairecapitalism, and that the role of art in human life is to transform humans’ metaphysical ideas by selective reproduction of reality into a physical form—a work of art—that one can comprehend and to which one can respond emotionally.[citation needed]

Rand characterized Objectivism as “a philosophy for living on earth”, grounded in reality, and aimed at defining human nature and the nature of the world in which we live.[1]”


And in Ayn Rand’s own words;

My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.
—Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged[2]
also ala WIKIPEDIA
Alright, so this story takes place in a Dark Dystopian Future, where Men (And Woman)  follow a ‘We’ Philosophy, as opposed to an ‘I’ Philosophy.
Where all things are based on a ‘Collective’ mentality. Meaning all that we do, is for the Greater Good of our Fellow Man/Woman, and is not based on our Individual Needs, and/or Wants.
And all of our Decisions, including what field of work we go into, and who we ‘Mate’ with, are supplied by an Appointed Council.
I don’t want to get all that technical, but I think you get the gist.
we-are-the-borg-borg-base-picard-all-your-belong-star-trek-demotivational-poster-1249788313For me Star Trek’s ‘The Borg’ come to mind… But that’s mainly because this book was Written in 1937, and thus this Fundamental Idea has been used in many ways in Stories, and/or Television and Film.
A Man Called “Equality 7-2521” (Nope, People don’t even get to have True Names), considers himself cursed, because as he goes through the early part of his life, he can not seem to control his ‘Own Personal Interests/Passions’ Etc.
And so the basic Plot is about how he suffers because he is different, and slowly, piece by piece, starts to more and more figure out ways to Express Himself as an Individual (As Opposed to one of the Collective)… And when I say “Express” himself, I don’t mean Publicly Initially, I mean Privately. And when I say Privately, I mean when he is Alone, which is supposed to be ‘Never’, but he finds/makes a way.
To me the main Character, initially, is Quite Tormented Internally… Partly because he can not Pursue his Own Individual Interests/Passions Etc… Partially because he feels he is Cursed, and is Ashamed of himself that he does not only think of his Brothers/Sisters, and instead thinks about what Makes ‘Him’, as an Individual, Happy.
The Girl… The Girl, or as he comes to call her “The Golden One”, appears to have some Inner Strength inside her as well, and is Instantly Drawn to him.
I have come to find out that Ayn Rand generally has Cut and Dry/Working Titles for her Books, and then Changes them for the Sake of Publishing. The main part of this seems to be that her Working Titles “Give Too Much Away”, and thus she Creates Names that are not as Obvious, and also wants them to be more Intriguing… So to speak. Her reason, she wants people to figure out the meanings of the Books for their selves.
A Noble/Admirable thing I think/feel.
And so, the Initial Title of “Anthem”, was actually “Ego”… On that note, I’d highly recommend Reading Both the ‘Introduction’, and ‘Author’s Forward’, prior to Reading this Book. This is where she explains these things, and I found it very insightful going forward into the Reading of the Story.
Now the Funny thing about the word “Ego”, in my opinion… Is in my experience of the word Ego, it is, and/or has been, primarily used, and/or thought of in a Derogatory Light…
In such statements as “He has a Huge Ego… So watch out”… Or, “That Guys Ego is out of control”.
Now this is in my, American, mostly Southern California, experience of the word.
Here’s what Webster thinks of the Word;
1 : the self especially as contrasted with another self or the world
3 : the one of the three divisions of the psyche in psychoanalytic theory that serves as the organized conscious mediator between the person and reality especially by functioning both in the perception of and adaptation to reality — compare
Hmm… A bit different than the Common Use of the word… Or at least in My Experience.
But Ego is a word that I had already, in my own life, come to realize ‘Isn’t’ a Derogatory Term in its ‘Purist’ Sense…
It basically has something to do with an ‘Individual’s’ Sense of Self, and Self Worth I believe.
That said, Ayn Rand’s use of the Word, I believe, has more to do with its ‘True’ Meaning, not what we, or at least I, have been most often exposed to.
And this is True with many Words. It’s funny how Words so often Mean One Thing to one person, and something Completely Different to another. I think this is even more evident, when the people speaking are each from different countries. But that’s just my opinion.
My Overall Opinion of The Book;
In the end, something in addition to the Fundamental Message in the Book, which is basically the ‘Importance Of The ‘I”, and the Potentially Destructive/Devastating Nature of the ‘We’ way of thinking…
At least what I found Truly Fascinating, was the Process that the Main Character goes through in ‘Breaking’ down one Philosophy (Which he’s known all of his life), and basically ‘Creating/Building’ a Whole New Philosophy, and Way of Being/Living, pretty much wholly based on a Human’s Innate Primal Instincts, in all respects… Be it Love, Survival, Time Alone, Internal Thoughts Etc.
I think if I had been brought up in a ‘Less’ Freedom of Speech/Thought Etc. kind of Environment, this Book would have had an even More Profound Impact one me.
But because I was not, what it did for me is 1) Gave Me Further Appreciation For Ayn Rand, A Writer/Person Who Literally Breeds The Importance of “Free Will” 2) Reminded me of the Simplicities of Life, that we often take for granted, often by no fault of our own… 3) A Sense of Appreciation of, like I say, The Breaking Down of One Belief System, and Building, From Scratch, of Another 4) As a Writer, it also Reminded me of some of the Fundamental Essences of ‘Sci-Fi’ Writing, that you can find in such Films as “Logan’s Run”, “Planet Of The Apes” (The old one’s), and even “Journey To The Center Of The Earth”… Touching on such Fundamental (And I’m using this word a lot)… Lets switch up to ‘Rudimentary’… Primal, Basic things, that really Give One’s Insides a Tussle… So to speak, Lol
It’s a Good Book… Very Basic (Meaning Simplistic In Form)… Very Primal… Very, yes here I go again, ‘Fundamental’… And I feel, Very Important… And I Highly Recommend it.
Keep in mind, if you’re like me, or even if you’re not… It’s only 105 Pages (At least in this Edition).
And it gets you thinking… And it gets you wanting to Write Your Own Stuff… And it might even Inspire you to Read More of other People’s Stuff, which it has for me.
Nuff Said
Thanks For Listening/Reading
Would Love to Hear Your Thoughts