It is my ever increasing desire to go to Costa Rica and maybe never come back. From all my research it appears that it would be so much cheaper to live there. I even have a place to live once I get there and a family to adopt me. I look forward to the opportunity to create new weird stories based on a new life in a new country. I’ll keep y’all posted.
I just finished looking through old posts and was reminded of when I wanted to move to Australia. Now I’m saying Costa Rica. It’s not really that I’m fickle … I just had to get real. I will never be able to save enough money to go that far. Other countries I would like to go to (to at least visit) are Ireland and Germany. I don’t have the money to go there either. To be totally honest, I don’t have the money to get to Costa Rica, but it will take a lot less saving. Not only is there less to save to get there, the cost of living is a lot less, so I could better afford to live there. The climate is best in Costa Rica over those other countries, as well. Year round spring time. Fresh fruits and vegetables all the time; so healthier lifestyle. It just makes better sense. Rents are super cheap. I would look for something out of town, yet close enough that I wouldn’t be isolated (a little isolation is cool). For now anyway, I am looking at Costa Rica and hope to be able to save enough to get there by the time I have my knee fixed and the physical therapy done. Let’s hope all goes well. I’ll try to keep y’all posted.
Meantime, I am almost done with volume 3 of the AGELESS series. My Brother’s Keeper may not make it for publication before the summer is up, but it’s at least close. Soon, very soon.
I don’t appear to be the greatest blogger in the world. I’ll make a post and you might hear from me in another year. Seriously, I haven’t even looked to see how long it’s been. I am doing better with my FaceBook blogging. I have 3 pages on FB. One is just an ordinary page where me and my friends all post all kinds of “stuff”, the other 2 are more “topic specific”. #1 is my Author Page, M J Henry, where I post information about my books and share articles on writing. #2 is a health blog, Better Health in a Year 4 Me. Check them both out. Hope you enjoy.
As I continue writing my stories and novels I feel that I am getting younger every day. I spend a part of every day in exercise and strive for a younger body. I am currently on a one year plan with my orthopedic doctor (Dr. Humphreys) at Coryell Memorial Hospital in Gatesville, Texas. When I have developed the muscle and toning in my legs and knees he will preform the knee surgery that I so need.
After I have completed my one year plan with Dr. Humphreys (if my savings has increased effectively) I will head for Costa Rica to begin a new one year plan. I will give it a year in Costa Rica to decide if I am suited to live in that country. In the meantime I am researching the country to help choose the local where I will settle down for my golden years. I am studying the Spanish language to help me to fit in to Tico life.
There will be so much for me to write about once I get to this new country. Perhaps it will inspire a new book in the AGELESS series. Speaking of the AGELESS series, there are currently two in the series. These would be “The Vampire’s Journals” and “Enemy Mine”. I am working on the third in the series, “My Brother’s Keeper”, which is due to be released summer 2015.
To purchase books by M J Henry, go to http://amazon.com/M-J-Henry/e/B00HI3KZ5M.
I usually have an idea in mind when I write but somehow as the story grows the characters take over and tell me to sit down and shut up.
Many years ago while driving down the freeway, my son pulled his sock off, opened the window, and held it out. In his mind, the wind would fill the sock like a balloon (which he’d lost out the window earlier) and slow the car. Instead, there’s a little white sock out there on the shoulder of a road, slowly decomposing.
I remembered that today, thinking about my writing process. So picture me speeding down the highway, ripping the following pages out of a rule book and sending them flying.
Writers must outline. Rip, gone.
Characters must be developed before you start the story (or writers must use character dossiers). Rip, really gone.
Keep your theme/premise in mind as you write. Also gone.
Know the motivations of your characters. That one went very fast.
Write every day. Rip, with laughter.
Write a thousand words a day. Rip, with hysterical laughter.
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I sat here, alone, in my apartment, waiting for God knows what. I had broken up with my most recent “Mr. Right” and had resigned myself to be alone. It’s not so bad. I guess I was trying to convince myself. Being alone really stunk and my doctor had prescribed medication for depression. I wasn’t so sure it was really working, so I quit taking it.
I sat straight in my chair when I heard a sound on the porch; a crunching – a squishing. Why haven’t the dogs barked? They always bark. They drive me nuts with their barking. Those stupid dogs will bark at shadows. So, why not now?
There was a knock at the door. It’s a very light, demure knock.
What do I do? Should I answer it? I’m just being silly. Oh, just go answer the damn door.
Again, the knock. This time it was louder and more urgent.
I stood and walked to the door, but I hesitated a moment.
I wasn’t expecting anyone and it’s late. Who would be coming by at this hour?
I looked at the clock. It’s 1:30 in the morning. Maybe I should call out first.
No answer, just another knock – this time it was loud and urgent.
I turned on the porch light and looked through the peek-hole. I could only see a shoulder; not sure if it was a man or a woman.
“Stand where I can see your face,” I shouted.
I looked again. This time I saw no one. I steped back from the door and waited. No more knocking. Nothing.
It’s late. I’m going to bed.
* * *
The next morning I rose and readied myself for work. Grabbing my keys and my purse, I opened the door. I steped out onto my porch.
“Oh my God!” I shouted.
My dogs had been gutted on my front porch. Their bloody remains were smeared over the front of my apartment; a message painted in their blood.
Die Bitch Die!
* * *
The police came and questioned neighbors. No one seemed to have seen anything. Why would they? It was 1:30 in the morning.
I called the office and told Jim what happened. “Don’t worry about it, Sally,” he said. “Once you calm down a bit, work from your computer at home. I’ll cover for your part of the presentation this morning.”
“Thanks, Jim. You’re a doll.”
“I know. Now go do what you gotta do.”
Detective Burk, a paunchy man with thinning hair, promised to make a thorough investigation and get back to me. Yeah, like I believe that one. My experience with the local police had taught me that they didn’t do their jobs very good. I just hoped that whoever did this would stay away.
They wouldn’t give me the go ahead to hose down the front of my apartment until forensics finished, but once they were done, they said it was okay to clean up the mess. They were kind enough to take the dogs with them. I guessed they needed them to look for some clues – or something.
It was after lunch when I was outside hosing down the front of the apartment. I had napped a bit while they finished up with whatever investigation they had done. Now I stood with the hose, crying over my dogs. Earlier I had cried because I was so scared, now it was because of my dogs. I guessed that if I had a five gallon bucket it would be overflowing by now. I had to use some soapy water and a scrub brush, but I got it all cleaned up.
Just before I finished, an old van drove by. The music from the radio was blaring dirty rap and someone in the van threw a large cup out the window; it hit me on my leg. At first I was just mad
– then I smelled what had been thrown. It was a super-sized cup of urine.
I went in and called Detective Burk. I told him what happened, but all I could tell him about the van was that it was ugly and brown and I didn’t see any of its occupants. He didn’t give me much hope of learning anything more. Yes, he said it could be related to last nights incident, but then it could be something else.
“I really wish you had gotten some kind of description of the van,” Detective Burk said. “A license number would have been nice.”
Again, he promised to look into it and get back to me.
I went in to take a shower and get the piss off. After I finished, I took my soiled clothes to my laundry room. I stood there, wrapped in a towel, starting the machine, when the phone rang.
“Did you like your presents, bitch?” The voice was low and gruff sounding. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. “The dogs and that cup of piss were just the beginning. Enjoy.”
Again I called Detective Burk. He sounded annoyed, but I wanted something done. This ass-hole was, somehow, watching me.
* * *
Detective Burk brought over a forensics team to go over my apartment top to bottom. I assured them that when the phone call came I was in my apartment, alone, with all the drapes pulled shut. The only way anyone could have known I was standing there in a towel would have been if they had a camera in there – somewhere.
“We’ve looked everywhere,” Detective Burk said. “There are no cameras – nothing. Are you sure you didn’t imagine the call?”
“Imagine it! Really?”
“Now, don’t get upset. Lots of people imagine such things when they’ve received threats like you have. I just want you to keep things real here.”
“I didn’t imagine that phone call.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll put a tap on your phone. That way we’ll be aware of every call you get. If another one comes in, we’ll be right here. Okay?”
* * *
The rest of the day was uneventful. I completed my project for work and sent it on to Jim. He had several other projects for me to do, so I uploaded a new one to start. I probably got a lot more done at home than I ever did at the office. The work helped keep my mind off what had happened and the loss of my dogs.
Before I knew it, it was a quarter past nine and I hadn’t eaten anything since noon. I knew exactly what I wanted. My neighbor had made lasagna the night before and sent some over to me. I had some last night and knew there was just enough left for tonight as well. I fixed a nice salad and took out my recycled butter bowl that I had saved the scrumptious food in.
This is going to be good. I thought as I sat the container on the counter. I opened it and lost my appetite. It looked like some of the intestines from one of my gutted dogs.
Again I called Detective Burks number. “Detective Burk has gone home for the day. This is Sergeant Donaldson. Can I help you?” The man’s voice was gruff and a bit gravely.
“Well,” I began, “Detective Burk said I should call about anything that happened. So, I guess I better tell you what’s going on. Are you familiar with what’s happened on my case so far?”
“Yes Ma’am. I have the file here in front of me.”
“Okay. I just went to get something to eat and found what looks like part of one of my dog’s insides in a plastic container in my fridge.”
“Is that the only container with anything in it?”
“I only opened the one container. I figured I better not touch anything else.”
“That would be for the best. I doubt that we’ll have anyone over there tonight. Just don’t touch anything in your refrigerator until the forensics team investigates.”
“Okay. I’ll just order a pizza tonight, I guess.”
* * *
It was 10:30 before my pizza arrived. The boy was still standing there while I opened the box to be certain my order was right. We were both thoroughly grossed out when we looked at the pizza. The boy ran out to the porch and puked in my roses. It was more dog parts. I wasn’t sure just what. I called once more to speak with Sergeant Donaldson. He advised me to put it in the fridge for the forensics team and to get the delivery boys name and number.
What is this anyway? I think I’m doing the cops job.
I did as instructed and just gave up on any kind of dinner that night. I just went and crawled into bed. All I could do was hope that nothing would happen during the night so that I could sleep.
* * *
It seems that I wasn’t going to get any sleep that night. I spent the first hour or two worrying about all that had happened; then I started hearing noises. It didn’t used to bother me to be alone, but it was certainly bothering me now. If only I had someone to cling to. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so scared.
The noises seemed to be coming from the kitchen. I thought about calling the police, but they were really pretty useless. I always kept a handgun in my bedside table, so I removed it now. I made my way into the kitchen, slowly. I wasn’t in any hurry to see who it might be.
In the kitchen I didn’t see anyone, at first. I walked around, checking. The moon shown through the window and provided enough light to see what might be there. I went around the island to the sink and looked out the window. I didn’t see anything in the yard – then, I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see something I hadn’t expected.
The creature wasn’t very large; about the size of a twelve year old girl. It had glowing red eyes and it sat there, by the fridge, eating a dog’s leg. At least, I assumed it was a dog. When I gasped the creature looked up from its meal and smiled at me. It was a very wide smile that showed rows of bloody, jagged teeth.
I raised my gun and fired.
* * *
Detective Burk scratched his head as the coroner raised the sheet to cover me.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “I didn’t think she seemed that freaked out yesterday.”
“Well,” Don James, the coroner said, “you never really know what causes a person to go over the edge like this. Was any of what she reported true? ”
“Just about the dogs and we didn’t find any fingerprints but hers on the front porch. I guess she could have done that herself.”
“Okay. I’m going to rule this a suicide. Is there anyone we can contact?”
“I’ll notify her employer. Maybe he can tell me if there is any family. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
And there you have it. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. I kept trying to tell Detective Burk that I was there, but it seems I am really dead. What’s worse, I see a lot more of those creatures like the one in my kitchen. So – this is Hell.
MJ here. I am so glad when I can make new friends and I love it when old friends stop by to say hello.
Lately I have been trying to learn some about how to promote myself as a writer. This is really hard when I know so little about computers. My philosophy about computers has always been that if I play with it enough I will eventually learn how to use it. I guess I still haven’t played with it enough. Anyway, everything I read says that to promote yourself as a writer you must be prepared to blog, tweet, and whatever it is you do on FaceBook.
I have a blog on blogspot, http://texasrose-strangeroses.blogspot.com , but haven’t been able to learn how to manipulate that blog well enough to ‘get r done’. (Forgive me please. I’m truly a Texan and pop up with all sorts of lines that have been used here.) I’m hoping that I will be able to learn this site so well that I can consider myself a genius. (Okay — how about just not a moron?)
One book I am reading says that I have to decide what my blog will be about and be prepared to write about it at least 3 times a week for the rest of my life. (Really? Okay.) I don’t have a clue what this blog is about. Perhaps it can be about being clueless. Or, it could be about strange roses. What does that mean? I don’t know … I’m clueless.
Let me tell you about who I am. I am first and foremost a Christian. If that offends you, you have the right to move on to another blog and leave me alone. If that doesn’t offend you, great. I guess secondly I am a mother of 3 and a grandmother of 10 and a great-grandmother of 2. I am a retired social worker with a master’s degree in counseling psychology. My bachelors was in behavioral science with minors in religion and art. I am now retired(medically) and with so much time on my hands I decided to return to my lost love of writing. I write 2 or 3 shorts every week (mild horror) and I am working on a sci-fi novel, “Star Chasers”.
Now, my masters in psychology reminds me that all of what I have just said doesn’t at all say “who I am”. So, I guess I am a sensitive person who loves kids and dogs and cats and birds and lots and lots of ice cream (BlueBell Home Made vanilla). I cherish my time alone, but still want to be near family. Sometimes I find myself near family far too much and beg the Lord that I be allowed a weekend free from them all. That’s when I dream of Australia. It’s far enough away to go and not have to worry about kids following. I’d live in Southern Australia where the rain forests are. All I’d need would be a cabin and a Jeep and my laptop. I’d be set. I am a dreamer. As a dreamer I must be free to dream.