Walking Among The Dead

One day, a few weeks ago, I walked among the dead.

Not my dead.

Strangers in an old cemetery a few miles from my house.

Thought I might take photos...that the setting sun might illuminate a particular stone or give a halo to an old weathered angel.

Instead I just carried my camera and walked among the rows of graves. Stopping to read a date or name. My feet crunched old brown leaves. The few trees were leafing out. A row of bedraggled evergreens stood guard along one side of the cemetery.

And I thought about life and how it goes so fast. How we can't hold our dead no matter how much we try, no matter how much we cry, they slip away when we're not looking.

I thought about those who have left us and how I miss them. My grandparents, my parents, aunts and uncles, cousins ... my baby brother ... My mother was so sharp, so smart, she would see right through your soul, and my father loved to laugh and loved to make me laugh. All those losses. Is that why we're ready to go at the end of our lives? Do the losses pile on until our spirit is ready to fly, to escape the burdens of sorrow? Or maybe we're ready to meet them again. Maybe we're tired of not being with them. Maybe we're tired of this earth.

I sat down in an old concrete bench beside a budding tree.

Across the rows, I heard a mockingbird and saw a robin. I watched a lonely cloud make its way across the pale blue sky. And I felt the stillness settle into me, the quiet calm that I call peace for the lack of a better word. I stopped thinking for a while, stopping imagining, stopped remembering.

For a few moments, the horizon held me. That beckoning sky. The endless heavens beyond.

Then I took a deep breath of the cool wind. I smiled for no particular reason other than it felt better than not smiling. I stood, walked back to my car, and drove back to my life.

Unsent Letter

Dear Driver in the Black Truck,
Riding my bumper in traffic in no way makes me go faster. I couldn't even if I wanted to go over the speed limit because there were three cars in front of me. It does occur to me that perhaps your truck was making advances on my car; if so, inform the nasty brute that my car is a respectable church-going Baptist and isn't that type of car.
Sincerely,
Me

The Thrill Is Gone

A few days back, a friend took me to task for my distaste for coarse language in books, plays, TV shows and movies. He said, "That's how people talk now." His point being that authors were simply being realistic.

Maybe so. My point was that coarse language bores me. That's right. Not offends as much as simply bores. Even his discussion with me about it made me secretly sigh because I've heard that "It's realistic" ad nauseam.

I've been involved in journalism and theater most of my life. Both are filled with salty people that never found a swear word that they didn't make their lifelong friend. I can remember being shocked and maybe even impressed by the vulgarity. That was 30 years ago. I've heard it, read it, seen it on stage and on the movie screen.

Remember Die Hard? Good action movie. Great story, good acting, appropriate language for the people portrayed. It was a big hit. Remember Die Hard 2? Not so good a movie. And much more bad language. The screenwriters knew the writing was weak, the plot plain stupid. They tried to punch it up. What they forgot is that a word can only shock you so many times. I got bored in DH2 and started to count the number of times they used the Fword. I lost track around 50. By that time, the word had lost its meaning. It didn't convey intensity or pain. By overuse, they had diluted its power.

When I see coarse language used extensively, I think the writer was lazy. The writer didn't stretch, didn't attempt to find new ways of expressing his/her thoughts. Oh, there are exceptions to that. I've read several short stories, poems, and novels and seen a few movies and plays where the dramatic content called for it, and it worked. Most of the time it doesn't. (Another tired and over-used character in movies: the foul-mouthed kid. Stopped being funny after the first 100 times we saw it. Give it a rest.)

I think about coarse language that way I think about fart jokes. At 13 they're funny, but you're supposed to grow out of it.

I get accused of being old fashioned about this. But really I'm not. I'm just jaded. I look for writing that uses language in new and exciting ways. Where the writer has put out some effort.
Playwright and author Jean Kerr said in Penny Candy: "I do not like to hear the most explicit four-letter words spoken from the stage because I number among my acquaintance persons of such candor and quick temper that, for me, the thrill is gone."

I'm with her. The thrill is gone.

Darkness

Darkness

Do you know that I once held your life in my hands?
For a sweet moment, I thought about closing my fingers
I thought about my hand curling into a fist
I thought about you

You now think you were in control
You think you had the power to decide
I gave you that sop to your tattered pride
I thought about you

Now you tell your friends about your escape
You congratulate yourself. They pat your back
And my hand on its own makes that fist
when I think about you

And my teeth ache, my pulse pounds,
I want to tear my chest gaping open
And let all the burning darkness out
if you trouble my thoughts

Because I know the truth, the lies you told
the story of your life, the rot beneath the smile
The whispered pleadings in the night
you thought no one knew

You will never understand why I walked away
You think you still hold my heart, not realizing
that mercy is not the same as indifference
I thought about you then, but never again.

Copyright 2015 by Stephen B. Bagley

PTM: Going On

Preaching To Myself: You cannot undo your past. You cannot change what hurt you. You can only go on from where you are. No, it's not easy. It's terribly hard, but if you want to be happy, if you want to live a fulfilled and meaningful life, you cannot squat in your past, reliving each hurt and using them as an excuse for never going forward. The world will leave you behind. This life is not a dress rehearsal; there are no do-overs.

Take a deep breath. Take another one. And then take the first step forward. It will be hard, but it will get easier. God will be there right beside you. Sometimes pushing you, sometimes dragging you (as my friend Jolene said), but He will be there.

Sideways

    Sometimes to go forward, you have to step sideways. That's a bit of wisdom that has served me well throughout the years. Over the past few days, I've been trying to figure out how to apply to my life right now. How to deflect the current problems so that I can attack them from a different direction. To use a cliche, to think outside the box. So far I've not really come up with anything, but I think a solution is lurking out there. I can almost feel it, catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my mind.
      I'm trying to not force the solution out of hiding. My experience has been that the more I push, the more something will stubbornly elude me. It's better, for me, to approach a problem almost like play or a game. To turn it around in my mind, see all the angles, and then attempt to find one more. Most times it works. I hope it does this time.
      How do you approach problem solving? Do you take a straight ahead path or do you wander around a bit but finally arrive at where you were going? Let me know how you do it. I'm always willing to learn something new.

Empty

Why it happens, I don't know. How some people end up empty. What causes that huge hole in their souls. When need is all they've learned. And they need all the time.

When they look at me with that hunger in their eyes, I just want to pound the earth. How many times am I expected to give, to bite my tongue, to bury my anger, to suffer quietly and pat their shoulders? Where is the point that I finally break and start dealing out what I've been dealt? Why do I have to be the good guy all the time?

I know this entry doesn't make any sense, particularly since it doesn't apply to anyone who reads this blog. Tomorrow I will make sense. Promise. I'm just frustrated tonight and overloaded. Tonight I dined on bitterness and regret, and the meal isn't sitting easy. Ignore me. I'm a whiney hiney. A good night's sleep, and I will be ready to jump back into the fray. I'm the original bump-n-go boy, remember?

And let me answer my own question before I go: I try to be the good guy because I choose to try. Because darkness is too easy. Because I want to stand for something more however outdated and dumb that is. Because it's a losing battle, but someone has to fight it. It might as well be me. But my lord sometimes ... sometimes I'd like to walk away and disappear over a far hill.

I don't think I'd look back.

Happy Fourth of July!

Yes, we have problems as a nation -- and what nation since the dawn of time has not? -- but I'm proud to be an American, blessed to live in this diverse and amazing nation, humbled by the sacrifices of those who have given their lives to keep us free, and excited when looking forward to our future. The naysayers and political pundits like to highlight our shortcomings, conveniently ignoring our past successes and our continuing accomplishments. We truly have changed the face of the world, and although we have made grievous mistakes, we have also been an unrelenting force for freedom and liberty. God has blessed us immensely, and may He continue to do so! Happy Fourth of July!

Frustration

Few things in life are more frustrating than watching someone you love suffer. Particularly when they're making the bad decisions that lead to their suffering, and they won't take advice from anyone. You can't stop them, you can't help, you can only watch.

Sometimes you wish you didn't love them. Or at least not hear about their mistakes. But it's like watching a train wreck; you can't turn away. And you can't turn off your heart. So you get to suffer along with them. 

I think the only reason people ever become parents is because they simply don't know any better. Or they do, but they think, it won't happen to me. My kid will be different.

And sometimes they're right. Their kids are different. Their kids avoid all these pitfalls and snares and make it to adulthood. I rejoice with them. But sometimes, the kids don't.

All I can say any parent going through this, may God keep and bless you. And pray that our loved ones make through with their fingers and toes intact with minimal scarring. The old saying goes that you can't find any atheists in foxholes when the bullets are flying overhead. I'm not sure if you can find any parents that are, either.

PTM: Malice Attributed

Preaching To Myself: One of the worse thing we do as humans is to attribute malice toward us in the actions of other people even though they're probably not even thinking about us or the impact of their actions on us. What I'm saying is that we need to give each other a break or at least the benefit of a doubt.

Forgive their mistakes because we certainly need forgiveness for ours. Think how much better this world, our lives, and our relationships would be if we could forgive others easily and freely and they could do the same for us. It would be a new world.

A Simple Way

A friend of mine was saying that "harassment" and "discrimination" had a moving meaning. Perhaps so in the courts, but I can tell you a simple way for you to tell if you're harassing or discriminating against someone: If you really wouldn't mind if you were treated in the exact same fashion as you're treating that person, then the odds are good you are behaving in a decent manner. But if you wouldn't like it, then the odds are good that you're being a jerk. Cut it out.

This is just another way of saying what Jesus said in the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 12. Pay particular attention to verse 31.
"28 And one of the scribes came, and having heard them reasoning together, and perceiving that he had answered them well, asked him, Which is the first commandment of all? 
"29 And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: 
"30 And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. 
"31 And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these."

Short Stories for the Kindle

Over the past few weeks, I've been putting short stories up on Amazon for the Kindle devices and app. (More are coming.) Here is some info about each story and the link to purchase. (Click on the title to be taken to the story on Amazon.) Enjoy!

Duel in the Sky
In a futuristic sports dome, wind duelists battle for the ultimate prize: their lives. Includes bonus story, "Garage."

Grave Matters
Justina Grave, Knight of the Trivarutham, tangles with new, more powerful revenants and their bloodthirsty master, and discovers an unsettling truth about their origins.
The first Justina Grave Mystery.

Grave Concerns
A blood shaman invades Tulsa, and Justina Grave, Knight of the Trivarutham, is standing in his way.
The second Justina Grave Mystery.

An Unattended Death
Who left Aaron Brody out in the woods to die of a drug overdose? What does his dealer girlfriend know? And why does Daniel Bias, radio advertising salesman, stick his nose in where it doesn't belong? Daniel's investigation leads him to places he has never gone before, including the infamous Stuttering Rooster, the best gentleman's club in western Oklahoma. If Daniel's smart mouth doesn't get him killed, his questions might.
The first Daniel Bias mystery.

BSF launches for Kindle!

Blackbirds Second Flight now available for your Kindle!

Enjoy these dark fantasies:

A writer challenges her murderous muse.

Dragons and riders stage a daring rescue.

Gangsters face off over the world's fate.

Warriors duel to their deaths in the sky.

A dad battles ghosts to save his daughter.

The sidhe never forget nor forgive.

It's Malone's way, or the fur will fly.

A shaman invades Tulsa on a killing hunt.

And much more!

Kindle version!

Buy Blackbirds Second Flight for Kindle!

Print versions!

Buy on Amazon!

Buy on Barnes & Noble!
Buy on Books-A-Million!

Buy on Lulu!

Blackbirds Second Flight On Sale NOW!

Buy on Amazon!
Buy on Barnes & Noble!
Buy on Books-A-Million!

Buy on Lulu!

Blackbirds Second Flight On Sale NOW!

March 30, 2015

MANY RIVERS HARBOR PUBLISHES NEW FANTASY ANTHOLOGY

ADA, OKLAHOMA—Many Rivers Harbor announces the publication of Blackbirds Second Flight, an anthology of thrilling fantasy stories and chilling poems by new and established writers. The book is on sale now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Lulu, and other online retailers.

“We're proud to publish Blackbirds Second Flight,” said Kyra Childers, MRH associate editor. “This book follows last year's Blackbirds First Flight and features fantasy stories and poems with a dark twist.”

Childers said the book offers short stories that continue several characters' lives after their appearance in Blackbirds First Flight. "Both Stephen (Bagley) and Wendy (Blanton) return to characters first seen in last year's anthology. Stephen gives us another story about monster hunter Justina Grave, and Wendy tells us about another man's encounter with the powerful fairy Maeve."

The book retails for $12. For more information on Blackbirds Second Flight, readers can visit blackbirdsflights.blogspot.com.

The book features works from Stephen B. Bagley, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Ken Lewis, Jean Schara, and Heath Stallcup.

Stephen B. Bagley wrote Tales from Bethlehem, Murder by Dewey Decimal, Murder by the Acre, Floozy and Other Stories, and EndlesS. His works have appeared in Blackbirds First Flight, Creations 2014, Creations 2013, Creations 2012, ByLine Magazine, Free Star, Nautilus Magazine, OKMagazine, and other publications. He graduated from Oklahoma State University with a Bachelor of Science in Journalism. He is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc.

Wendy Blanton published three fantasy novels, The Dragon’s Lady, Rogue Pawn, and Sword and Scabbard under the pen name Elizabeth Joy with co-author Scott Carman. She has a Bachelor of Applied Science in Business Management from the University of Mount Olive and served in active duty for the United States Air Force for eight years. She is an apprentice bard and tells Celtic folk tales at Scottish Highland Games and other venues.

Gail Henderson collaborated with noted Oklahoma photographer Michael Duncan to produce Bare, a book of poetry and photography. Red Bird Woman, a collection of her poetry, was published in 2013. Her work has appeared in Blackbirds First Flight, Creations 2014, Creations 2013, Creations 2012, and ByLine Magazine. She holds a Masters of Education in English and Social Studies from East Central University. She is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc.

Ken Lewis's articles, memoirs, short stories, and poems appeared in Creations 2014, Creations 2013, and Creations 2012. He graduated from East Central University, Ada, Oklahoma, with a Bachelor of Science in Medical Technology, with a major in Biology and a minor in Chemistry. He is also a graduate of the Long Ridge Writers Group, Danbury, Connecticut. He is an amateur astronomer and is currently involved in a global effort to gather visual information of double stars. He enjoys handcycling and has completed numerous marathons.

Jean Schara retired from a 28-year career in the United States Air Force in 2008 and took up residence in Texas. She is a graduate of the University of Maryland University College with a Bachelor of Arts in Professional Writing and of the Troy State University with a Master of Science in Adult Education. She has had several book reviews published in the Air Power Journal and several articles published in Vision: A Resource for Writers.

Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California, and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma, in his teen years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, South Carolina, and Bangor, Washington, shortly after junior college. After his second tour, he attended East Central University, Ada, Oklahoma, where he obtained Bachelor of Science degrees in Biology and Chemistry. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local sheriff’s office. He lives in Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. His books include Whispers, Caldera, Forneus Corson, and the continuing Monster Squad series: Return of the Phoenix, Full Moon Rising, Coalition of the Damned, Blood Apocalypse, Homecoming, and Wayward Son.

BSF book trailer!

Book trailer for the new dark anthology Blackbirds Second Flight from Many Rivers Harbor. BSF features dark fantasy stories from Stephen B. Bagley, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Ken Lewis, Jean Schara, and Heath Stallcup.

Video Chat!

The first Many Rivers Harbor Video Chat. A few minutes of fun and information about the new anthology "Blackbirds Second Flight" with authors Stephen B. Bagley, Wendy Blanton, and Jean Schara in which they discuss their short stories, feral cats, murderous muses, fairies, dragons, and a few other oddities they didn't expect.

On Sale March 30!

We be dissing

By Stephen B. Bagley

With my various physical aliments, I find myself spending more time that I’d like in doctors’ waiting rooms. They’re uniformly dreary places, filled with unsavory people who are deliberately coughing their germs my direction because they’re mean. Of course, I wear a mask during flu season, although I've learned to remove it when entering banks. They’re touchy about masks at banks.

The only good thing about waiting rooms is that I get to read a lot of magazines that I would never read otherwise and probably shouldn't. I confess that I gravitate toward the more trashy ones about terrible people. You know, Cosmopolitan, Entertainment Weekly, Tiger Beat, People, US Weekly, and the U.S. Congressional Record.

You may disapprove—I’ll let you this one time—but I have learned things I would have never known. For instance, are you aware that Taylor Swift and Katy Perry are in a feud? Apparently Katy hired away some dancers from Taylor’s tour. Taylor could have paid the dancers more, but in that way lies madness. If you pay the dancers more, the backup singers are going to be in line right behind them, and the next thing you know, you’re having to pay a living wage to your entire stage crew.

No, Taylor handled this in the devastating way that pop princesses do: Taylor is going to “dis” Katy in her next song. When Katy heard about this—probably from Tiger Beat, which follows celebrity feuds with the fervor and attention that network news should show when covering world events —she let it be known that she will dis Taylor on her next album. You can tell from all the dissing going on that they’re on the edge of meeting in a dark alley and trying to off each other with their sharpened People’s Choice Awards.

I’m going to bet on Taylor in the brawl, by the way. She’s got those long legs and long arms, giving her the reach on short-armed Katy. Also, Taylor looks all athletic and fit, while Katy has a faintly dissipated look about her. And after the fight is over, Taylor will write a Grammy-winning song about it.

You’re probably wondering what “dis” means. According to such honored authorities as the online urban dictionaries, it carries the meanings of: “dislike, disown, disaffirm, distrust, disembowel, discount, disbar.” Wow. Think of all the spelling that saves you. Although the “disembowel” bothers me. Someone could say they’re going to dis you, and you’re expecting them to discount or disown you, and instead, they’re swinging a sword at your midsection. That has to be disconcerting. Even disorienting. Are you disliking all the dis-s yet?

All the magazines are carrying this story, so you know it has to be true. I don’t know how they stay in business reporting the same news, but somehow they do. I’m told they are fiercely competitive about getting the story first, so much so that they actually have to publish the stories before the events depicted in the stories happen. In less enlightened times, this used to be called “lying,” but if Taylor and Katy aren't dissing each other yet, the magazines know they will eventually. And if not, well, you shouldn't be reading the trash they print, anyway.

Copyright 2015. Excerpt from A Little Floozy by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. Copying prohibited. Thank you for reading. 

"Blackbirds First Flight" Interview with author Stephen B. Bagley

"Blackbirds First Flight" Interview with author Wendy Blanton

"Blackbirds First Flight" Interview with Author Jean Schara

Coming March 2015!

Happy New Year!

Turn Does The Year
By Stephen B. Bagley

the old year turns
either onto a new path
or onto the same
with only minor changes

we raise a cup or not
as it may be hoping it will
even as we realize
it might not be as hoped

in this heartbeat
between then and now
and what comes after
drink deep the bittersweet

we are promised nothing
but we plan and plan
and if the fates be kind
some plans will bloom

we cannot make promises
we might not keep
even though we will try
and cry and laugh and run

dance with me or
love with me maybe
pray with me perhaps
kiss sweet lips now

think of what we leave
behind walk toward what
is before us hold my hand
as the old year turns new

(Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.)

Contributing to the heat death of the universe

Was watching a show on the Discovery Science Channel -- can't tell you which one because I didn't pay attention -- but the scientist on it talked about how every living thing contributes to entropy, how being alive is a constant journey toward disorder and how using the energy we do is an infinitely small contributor to the eventual heat death of the universe. Yeah, happy stuff. I think I switched over to watch a movie at that point. Probably Guardians of the Galaxy, which I enjoyed greatly.

Later, over a hot cup of chai latte, I begin to think about what the scientist said. We do contribute to disorder by being alive. We have our own personal carbon footprint. Energy is used by our gadgets, cars, machines, buildings ... we build a debt up by simply being alive. It's mostly a factor of our current technology; four thousand years ago, we lived short lives. Our impact was less; we simply didn't survive long enough to have much of a footprint.

We can reduce our carbon footprint by doing easy things: Take public transportation when available, don't use plastic when we can avoid it, use recyclable plastic when we can, use more glass and paper containers, change the air filters in our heaters and air conditioners, take our own bags to the store, weatherstrip our houses and buildings, and so on. I'm sure you can think of several things that are fairly easy to do. Naturally, we won't see much of a impact, particularly if no one else does any of these items. But in a huge group, it's amazing how much energy we can save.

But will anyone do them? Some of them are not particularly convenient. Some of them take more time. And in the short run, more money. I do carry my own canvas bags to use; they're cheap and sturdy. We do change the air filters. Our house has nice windows. We don't have access to public transportation here. We probably keep our thermostat too high in the winter and too low in the summer. And so on. It's hard to work up enthusiasm about results when they're dependent on so many people.

Not much point to this. Just where my mind has been wandering. Next week, I'll be talking about my plans for 2015. This week, a couple of visits to the doctor. Actually, doctors. House cleaning. Chores. Planning.

Have a great week and a Happy New Year!

Books for Christmas and after!

Blackbirds First Flight 
Anthology - Enjoy chilling poems and dark tales in this collection from Stephen B. Bagley, Kent Bass, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Jean Schara, & Tamara Siler Jones.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu

EndlesS
By Stephen B. Bagley
Poetry - Enjoy more than 50 sensual & moving poems, including the award winning "Non-Communion," "Torrent," & "Endless."
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Lulu

Floozy & Other Stories
By Stephen B. Bagley
Humor - Laugh at these hilarious tales from the author's decidedly different life.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu

Murder by Dewey Decimal
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the librarian? Who's next to die and why? 1st in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu

Murder by the Acre (Second Edition)
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! New expanded edition. 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Lulu
Buy on Amazon

Murder by the Acre (First Edition)
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble

Tales from Bethlehem
By Stephen B. Bagley
Inspirational - Have you ever wondered about everyone else in Bethlehem on the night of the Nativity? These charming and touching Tales will tell you their stories.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu

Smart phones or another horror of modern life

By Stephen B. Bagley

Excerpted from A Little Floozy.

The perfect Christmas gift this year—according to numerous ads on TV and online—is apparently a “smart” phone. Or a smart phone upgrade. I don’t have a smart phone; my phone just makes  and receives calls. It’s a dumb phone. And I’m happy about that.

Many people think it’s strange that I don’t like the smart phones. Well, they think other things are strange, too, but we’re not going to talk about those. It’s strange, they say, that I love computers, robots, lasers, telescopes, cameras, anything with lots of buttons and lights, and rockets, but dislike smart phones.

But I do. I find smart phones annoying. Their screens are tiny. Their buttons are small. They make weird noises, and people use them to post embarrassing and/or naughty pictures online. Worse, people use them to “text” each other. “Text” is not a verb. You can’t “text” someone just as you can’t “font” or “comma” or “semicolon” someone. Or you shouldn’t if you have any respect for the English language.

I have been told the smart phones are little computers, but they are not! You cannot use a smart phone to break the encryption on a secret government site... not that you should do that under any circumstances. The FBI knows—or will when they read this—that I am not doing that and certainly not encouraging anyone to do that again. (Agent McHenry, how are those nervous hives? Hope they’re cleared up by now.)

The most annoying thing about smart phones—well, the second most annoying thing about them—is how it lets people look things up. They “Google®” it. (“Google” is also not a verb, but that may be a fight I will have to concede.) I have an awesome brain filled with millions of interesting and often strange facts. Say, for instance, you wonder how Genghis Khan died. I can tell you both stories: how supposedly he fell from his horse and died from internal injuries, or how supposedly a captured princess did something terrible to him with a knife and he never recovered. But do you ask me? No. You just “Google” it with your phone. My brain is loaded with all these wonderful items, but you instead use your smart phone. A pox on it!

Of course, my brain is faster than you looking it up, but once in a rare, rare, rare instance, I might possibly remember wrong. I might tell you that Khan died in July when he really died August 18, 1227. July, August, it was in the summer, okay? You didn’t know. If it hadn’t been for your phone, I could have told you that he died in January 1220 by eating undercooked badger and you would have believed it. The thing is I don’t understand why you’re so interested in Genghis Khan anyway. It’s weird. Get a life.

The actual most annoying thing about smart phones is how people will be talking to you and they get a text and then they interrupt talking to you to carry on a conversation with someone else—thus implying I am not as interesting as the other person they are “texting” to. This is insulting, and I find throwing silverware at them immediately makes them pay attention to me again, as they should. Knives are particularly effective. (Once again, just kidding Agent McHenry. I am not violating my parole with weapons, depending on how you define “weapons” since I think we’re all agreed that lasers, rockets, and firearms are not under that definition, but rather under the heading of “good, clean fun” or “party favors.”)

A friend pointed out that maybe all this texting nonsense is the universe getting revenge on me for not paying attention to other people when they are talking. He said a few more things, but I wasn’t listening. If you aren’t interesting enough to keep my attention, then the problem is with you. You need to up your game. Talk about a subject I’m interested in—for instance, my general brilliance and sweet humility—and I will hang on your every word and might even quote you.

People use their smart phones all the time everywhere. Weddings, funerals, church, even during the Sacred Rituals of the Poached Warthog Lodge, it doesn’t matter. The smart phone is ubiquitous. (This is a real word. You might not know it since it’s not often used by those who send texts. Too many letters, I guess.)

The other Sunday morning while sitting on the balcony at church—which I do because it seems to make my minister less nervous—I looked out over the congregation and noticed a man using his phone to text in church. Fortunately I had my binoculars with me and could easily see he was talking to a friend about going out to eat after the service. You will be proud to know that I did the only thing a decent, God-fearing man could do. I took the collection plate, flung it like a Frisbee® and bounced it off his head. He was so surprised. And unconscious for about twenty minutes.

I think the height of the balcony may have added to the force of the throw, but it could have been an angel, too. At least, that was my defense in front of the deacon board. They were overwhelmed by my piercing logic and silenced by my wise words. They sat there quietly with the oddest expression on their faces. They looked...frightened. It was quite strange and offsetting.

I may visit another church for a while. For some reason, I have started to receive a lot of brochures for other churches, several in other towns and one in another state. Curious timing.

I actually have a phone that could be smart if I was willing to pay the data charges. AT&T® telemarketers are baffled by my refusal to add anything extra to my phone. They often call me with offers of many “gigs” of data for a monthly payment that I would only need to sell my neighbor’s car to afford.

“You can read books on it,” the telemarketer says.

“The screen is too small,” I say.

“You can watch movies,” he says.

“If the screen is too small for books, how is it large enough to watch a movie?”

“On YouTube, you can find thousands of videos to enjoy,” he says.

“I’ve seen enough videos of grumpy cats and falling people,” I say.

Then he makes a fatal mistake. “You can Facebook,” he says. “You can Twitter. You can—”

“Facebook and Twitter aren’t verbs, you uneducated batweasel skunkface,” I explain kindly.

I then launch into a fascinating discussion about how we must protect the English language from the barbarians of textspeak. Somehow we get cut off, and I have to call him back to finish. Twice. You’d think they would have better service than that, but perhaps he’s using a  dumb phone. He should upgrade. I’m told it’s the perfect Christmas gift. 

(Copyright 2014 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. Thanks for reading!)

Available now at Amazon, Barnes & Noble

Enjoy stories and poems from authors 

Stephen B. Bagley, Kent Bass, Wendy Blanton, 

Gail Henderson, Jean Schara, and Tamara Siler Jones

in this dark, thrilling anthology!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Amazon!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Barnes & Noble!
Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Lulu!
Learn more at Blackbirds Flights.

Blackbirds First Flight

• An unhappy wife can't decide what to do about her boorish husband until an uneaten meal gives her a dark idea. 
• Something is raising zombies in Tulsa, and Justina Grave is the only one who can stop it.
• When a fat farm promises to make Edyth thin again, her dream comes true. She will never be fat again--or safe. 
• Hopping a freight train can be a cheap way to travel. Unless you pick the wrong boxcar. 
• One kiss gives Francois immortality, but at a cost he doesn't see coming. 
• A woman warrior must choose her fate as the Romans ravage her land. 
• Stalked by terrible creatures seeking vengeance, a band of robbers runs for their lives in medieval France. 

This anthology will lead you into dark, twisted places filled with mystery and delight.

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Amazon!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Barnes & Noble!
Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Lulu!
Learn more at Blackbirds Flights.

Library hosts book signing for "Blackbirds First Flight"

ADA, OKLAHOMA—Ada Public Library will host a book signing for the new anthology “Blackbirds First Flight” 4:30-6:30 p.m., Thursday, October 30. The anthology features stories from Ada author Stephen B. Bagley, Kent Bass, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Jean Schara, and Tamara Siler Jones.

Bagley, Blanton, Henderson, and Schara will sign copies of the book at the signing. The book will also be on sale at that time for the special price of $10.

“‘Blackbirds First Flight’ is an anthology of stories and poetry with a dark, sensual twist,” said Pru Simmons, Many River Harbor associate editor. “The stories run the gambit from thrilling Gothic adventure to modern urban fantasy to fantastic encounters with the macabre. The poetry is uniformly excellent and tells dark stories of its own, many related to mythology.”

Simmons said the book might become an annual anthology. “We have had many inquiries about the book and its theme,” she said. “We definitely think there is an interest in dark, twisty fantasy that tells a satisfying story and follows traditional narrative arcs. We hope there will be another flight next year.”

“Gail (Henderson) and I are excited to actually meet some of the other authors,” Bagley said. “Wendy (Blanton) is flying in from Chicago, and Jean (Schara) is driving up from Texas. This is the first time we’ll all be in the same town.”

Stephen B. Bagley wrote “Tales from Bethlehem,” “Murder by Dewey Decimal,” “Murder by the Acre,” “Floozy & Other Stories,” and “EndlesS.” His works have appeared in “Creations 2014,” “Creations 2013,” “Creations 2012,” “ByLine Magazine,” “Free Star,” “Nautilus Magazine,” “OKMagazine,” and other publications. He graduated from Oklahoma State University with a Bachelor of Science in Journalism. He is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. and Ada Writers.

Kent Bass enjoys writing Gothic action/adventure stories. He graduated from Oklahoma State University with a Bachelor of Science in Business and from the University of Oklahoma, with a Master of Science in Accountancy. He and his family live in Dallas, Texas, where he works for the nation’s leading tax software company. “Blackbirds First Flight” is his first publication.

Wendy Blanton published three fantasy novels, “The Dragon’s Lady,” “Rogue Pawn,” and “Sword and Scabbard” under the pen name Elizabeth Joy with co-author Scott Carman. She has a Bachelor of Applied Science in Business Management from the University of Mount Olive and served in active duty for the United States Air Force for eight years. She is an apprentice bard and tells Celtic folk tales at Scottish Highland Games and other venues.

Gail Henderson collaborated with noted Oklahoma photographer Michael Duncan to produce “Bare,” a book of poetry and photography. “Red Bird Woman,” a collection of her poetry, was published in 2013. Her work has appeared in “Creations 2014,” “Creations 2013,” “Creations 2012,” and “ByLine Magazine.” She holds a Masters of Education in English and Social Studies from East Central University. She is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. and Ada Writers.

Tamara Siler Jones is a wife, mom, writer, quilter, and cat-wrangler from rural Iowa. She has three novels in print/eBook (“Ghosts in the Snow,” winner of the Compton Crook Award for best first novel of the year in the Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror genre; “Threads of Malice”; and “Valley of the Soul”; all published by Bantam Books), one book (“SPORE”) under contract with Samhain Publishing for release next summer; one book (“Morgan’s Run”) being marketed in New York, three novels in progress, and a screenplay in first draft.

Jean Schara retired from a 28-year career in the United States Air Force in 2008 and took up residence in Texas. She is a graduate of the University of Maryland University College with a Bachelor of Arts in Professional Writing and of the Troy State University with a Master of Science in Adult Education. She has had several book reviews published in the “Air Power Journal” and several articles published in “Vision: A Resource for Writers.”

“Blackbirds First Flight” is available from Amazon.com, Lulu.com, and other online retailers and in downtown Ada at Karen’s Art & Framing, Inc., 108 East Main.

For more information, visit Blackbirds Flights.

On Sale Now at Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Lulu!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Amazon!

Click here to buy Blackbirds First Flight at Barnes & Noble!

Blackbirds First Flight on sale now!

Blackbirds First Flight is officially on sale now! This brand new anthology features dark, twisty short stories and poems from Stephen B. Bagley, Kent Bass, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Jean Schara, and Tamara Siler Jones. 

To buy the book from Lulu.com, go here: Blackbirds First Flight. Get free mail shipping or 50% off ground shipping on your order by using coupon code: GMF14. (Offer ends Oct. 6 at 11:59 PM. Offer cannot be combined with other offers.)

Pre-release sale!

Festival this Thursday!

Fall Book & Author Festival slated for Thursday

ADA – Ada Writers Second Annual Fall Book and Author Festival will be Thursday, Sept. 18, 4:30-6:30 p.m. hosted by Karen’s Art and Farming, 108 East Main. The festival will feature books by local authors and “Creations 2014,” the latest anthology by Ada Writers.

“This is our chance to show our appreciation for the support we’ve received from Ada and the surrounding area,” said Stephen B. Bagley, Ada Writers president. “We will have a limited number of signed copies of ‘Creations 2014’ available.”

The anthology features short stories, poems, memoirs, and more by members of Ada Writers, including Kelley Benson, Eric Collier, Stacey Foster, Gail Henderson, Mel Hutt, Sterling Jacobs, Ken Lewis, Rick Litchfield, Don Perry, Martha Rhynes, James Sanders, Anna Tynsky, Joanne Verbridge, Tim Wilson, Tom Yarbrough, and Loretta Yin. Unsigned copies are available for purchase on Lulu, Amazon, and other online retailers.

“We will also be featuring books from our members,” Bagley said. Among the books offered will be “Floozy & Other Stories,” “Tales from Bethlehem,” “Murder by Dewey Decimal,” and “Murder by the Acre” by Stephen B. Bagley; “On Target: Devotions for Modern Life” by Kelley Benson; “Montana Sunshine” by Arlee Fairbanks; “Red Bird Woman” by Gail Henderson; “Devoted to Creating” by Jen Nipps; “The War Bride,” “Secret of the Pack Rat’s Nest,” “Jack London,” and “How to Write Scary Stories” by Martha Rhynes; and “Tree Stand Scribbles” and “Treasures of the Kingdom” by Tom Yarbrough. “The books range from mysteries to romance to biography to inspirational and more,” said Bagley.

Several members of Ada Writers will read from the various Creations anthologies, and original music will be provided by member Anna Tynsky. “We will have refreshments, of course, and plenty of good conversations about books and writing, and a few surprises,” Bagley said.

Ada Writers has been helping local authors with their writing goals for more than 25 years. The group meets the second and fourth Saturday of each month in the upstairs meeting room at the Ada Public Library at 11 a.m. Meeting times may be changed to accommodate holidays and bad weather. The meetings feature writing programs and tips aimed at beginners, professionals, and all those in between. For more information about Ada Writers, visit their website at www.adawriters.blogspot.com.

First paragraphs from Blackbirds First Flight

Heir to the Warrior Queen

By Wendy Blanton

I gripped the sword hilt in the pre-dawn gloom as I stood watch overlooking the sleeping village of Londinium. It wasn’t much of a village from what I had been able to see. Small, unprotected. Why would the Romans leave their trade center unprotected?
         A small scraping sound preceded warmth on my shoulders. My mother fastened the cloak under my chin and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her touch was the only one I could bear.
         "What are you still doing with that Roman sword, Scotta?"
         "I am going to kill Romans with it."

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

Robbing the House of Roche

By Kent Bass

He moved quickly through the crowded Parisian streets, keeping his head down, careful not to make eye contact with anyone, not to go any place familiar, not to give anyone a chance to recognize him. He knew he had to get out of the city and fast. He had hidden for two days and waited until tonight to come out. He had to be gone before the night ended.

         Etienne had always lived on the edge of society but always on the safe side of that edge. He never did anything that would draw attention to himself. He worked odd jobs and committed the occasional petty theft, but nothing serious.

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

Rage

By Gail Henderson

Nine o’clock.
         The book that had fascinated her at eight lay across her lap, face down, her hands rigid on its spine. Dark rage welled up inside her, filled her, and leaked out into the room, replacing wall-to-wall emptiness. With clenched teeth, she turned the book toward her face; her eyes straining to bring the words into focus, reading and re-reading the same paragraph, until, abruptly, she switched off the lamp next to her chair, placed the book on the end table, rose, and walked through the rage-dark room into the kitchen.
         She touched the light switch, illuminating a pan of cornbread and a pot roast cooling quietly on the stove and a few dirty dishes in the sink. Rage shrank back from her habit of orderliness. Rinsing out pans, wiping off counter tops already shiny dissipated her dark energy into apprehension. Nine o’clock was not so late. There might have been problems. Maybe a flat tire. He might not be able to call and tell her he was going to be late.
         What if there had been an accident?

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

Quin

By Jean Schara

Francois’s hand had been poised to open the door to his new employer when it opened, revealing a courtly gentleman decidedly out of place in this rundown industrial district.
         “Mr. Bergeron, I presume?” the man asked.
         “Yes. Please call me Francois.” He offered his hand for a hand-shake, hoping the gentleman would introduce himself, because he did not like being at a disadvantage.
         The man took his hand, guiding him into the building before releasing his grip and shutting the door behind them.

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

Grave Matters

By Stephen B. Bagley

The dead man on the blood-drenched bed had clearly seen better days. Justina Grave slowly approached the body. His heart had been cut out of his chest. Crow and raven feathers were scattered around the room along with other spell materials.
         “Charming,” she muttered. Her Nethersenses probed for signs of magic. She found many. Dark tendrils of energy hovered in the area, visible to any Mage. Something had fed on the victim’s life force and used that energy to power a spell.

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

Endorphins

By Tamara Siler Jones

Edyth stood in the shower, hot water thrumming on her aching head, the heat refusing to soothe her tortured soul. “I just can’t do this anymore,” she sighed through the steam. She scrubbed herself with a complete lack of enthusiasm, refusing to acknowledge her loose sagging stomach, her wide cellulite-dimpled thighs, jiggly arms, or her soft, jowly face. Still sighing, she finished her shower and turned off the heat.
          As Edyth toweled off, she told herself not to look in the mirror, but she sought out her shame anyway. She stared at her reflection, at the droops and rolls on the stranger staring back at her. The hideous person she had become gawked back, sickened disbelief carved into the fat. How did this happen? she asked herself. How did I become so ugly, so utterly repugnant? But maybe, just maybe, I’ve found a solution. Maybe my luck is about to change.

Read more in Blackbirds First Flight!

An Unattended Death, Part Two

An Unattended Death, Part Two

By Stephen B. Bagley

I didn’t know Aaron Brody or his family so my involvement in his death should have ended there. They didn’t know me from Adam so it was a strange twist that I attended Aaron’s funeral.

Not that I really wanted to, but our sales manager, showing that compassion that made us call him Hitler behind his back, decided that the entire sales staff of the radio station should go. His reasoning: lots of our customers would be there so we should be in case any of them needed to discuss their advertising. No, I am not making that up.

Thus, I found myself in a car with three other salespeople. We enjoyed ourselves on the way to the funeral, comparing our sales manager to various animals. (He drove his BMW to the funeral.) The other three championed a skunk, but I happen to think skunks are fine animals, perhaps a little smelly, but they didn’t deserve to have our sales manager lumped with them.
Hundreds of people turned out for the funeral. Leon Brody was well known and well liked. I saw Simon Williams and several of my other clients. None of them, strangely enough, approached us to discuss advertising, a fact that Charlie, our morning DJ and afternoon salesperson, said he was going to make sure our manager knew.

Dozens of flower bouquets lined the front of the church. I counted at least a hundred different sprays. The florists in town were making money. I wondered if they gave a special discount on funerals ... And would it be too tacky to advertise it if they did? How could you word the radio spot so that it didn’t sound ghoulish and macabre? It’s an absolute joy to live inside my head sometimes.

“Wow,” Charlie breathed.

I looked and saw a young woman in an extremely short black dress walk by. Her hair was that bright blond that only comes from a bottle, and she was thin to the point of starvation. All in all, a hottie by the current accepted definition. (I, however, prefer women that don’t look like they would need anchors in a strong breeze.)

She sauntered down the aisle and sat in the pew reserved for family. After a few moments, one of the attendants hurried down the aisle to her, and there was a sharp whispered conversation. I couldn’t hear what was being said, other than a few words from the woman, and they weren’t words you’d want to repeat to your mama, depending on who your mama is, of course.

She got up, pushed past the attendant, and strode toward the door. She paused, then turned and looked at all of us already seated, and loudly said, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” With a contemptuous flip of her hair, she exited, leaving a lot of scandalized conversation behind her.

“Who was that?” Charlie asked, his eyes bright with excitement.

The lady in front of us turned and whispered, “His girlfriend.”

Charlie leaned forward, and he and the lady (using that term loosely) exchanged a few minutes of gossip. To hit the low points: the girlfriend’s name was Marlene Postwain, she was thought to have started Aaron on drugs, she had been arrested several times but let off because her uncle was a state senator, Aaron’s mother Margaret hated her, and all in all, she was basically naughty. Charlie and the woman had a good time. Nothing like gossip to liven a funeral.

A few minutes later, the family entered. Leon Brody looked terrible. He walked as if he would fall at any moment. Several friends hung close to him, but I never saw him let them help him. His haggard face would haunt me later. His wife Margaret was wearing a hat with a black veil, the only time I had ever seen that except on TV. About two dozen other people made up the rest of the family. I recognized a couple of them from events around town.

The funeral was fairly short. A prayer, a couple songs, the eulogy, another prayer, and it was over. Aaron didn’t leave people with much to say about him. As I stood in line to view the body, I wondered how he had managed to mess up his life so badly.

Aaron looked young and small in the coffin in a suit that seemed oversized. I turned and hurried out of the church.

Outside, the other radio station people and I stood around, waiting for the parking lot to thin out. Our car was blocked in. A lot of people were in the same situation so little knots of people talked and laughed. While the mood was somewhat somber, most seemed to treat it as an occasion to catch up with friends. Isn’t it strange that people can treat funerals like social events? Perhaps it is a comfort of some sort to renew our friendships, catch up on family news.

Charlie told our sales manager that we hadn’t sold any commercials. Our manager said, “I didn’t say we would. I said we had to be prepared to sell some.”

“We’re just like the Red Cross of the advertising industry,” Charlie deadpanned.

Our manager nodded as if that made perfect sense. His car was free so he left.

The family finally came out of the church. Margaret Brody stumbled on the steps, and Leon reached out to steady her. She jerked away from him and made her way to the car. He stood there for a moment in the harsh sunlight, looking at the crowd. For a weird moment, it seemed like our eyes met, and then I realized he was looking beyond me. I turned. A police car was parked across the street under a tree, Police Lieutenant Ron Sims leaning against the car. I looked back at Leon. He entered the family car. People formed the procession, turned on their headlights, and headed for the graveside service.

I knew Ron. He came to the station once a month to record public safety messages for the police department’s drug prevention program for kids. I had helped write a couple of spots for him and set him up in the recording studio. I started to go over to him, but he got into his car and left. He didn’t join the procession, instead turned and followed a little red car that had been parked on the other side of the parking lot. I stood there for a moment, shrugged, and went to our car.

That was that. Or it should have been. But not even two weeks later, I would be in the woods where Aaron was found, looking for clues like a real world version of Scooby-Doo and the gang, facing a gun.

Click here to read Part Three at Stephen B. Bagley's Books.

Book blurb!

Here's the book blurb for Blackbirds First Flight:

An unhappy wife can’t decide what to do about her boorish husband until an uneaten meal gives her a dark idea...
Something is raising zombies in Tulsa, and Justina Grave is the only one who can stop it...
When a fat farm promises to make Edyth thin again, her dream comes true. She will never be fat again—or safe...
Hopping a freight train can be a cheap way to travel. Unless you pick the wrong boxcar...
One kiss gives Francois immortality, but at a cost he doesn't see coming...
A woman warrior must choose her fate as the Romans ravage her land...
Stalked by terrible creatures seeking vengeance, a band of robbers runs for their lives in medieval France...

This anthology will lead you into dark, twisted places filled with mystery and delight. Enjoy thrilling stories and chilling poems by authors Stephen B. Bagley, Kent Bass, Wendy Blanton, Gail Henderson, Tamara Siler Jones, and Jean Schara.

It goes on sale October 1st! Watch for it!

Coming October 1!