Welcome back, you disciples of the written word.
Welcome to the church of Bain.
Easy there, Skippy. Put that holy water down. I ain’t gonna burst into flames or nothing and then you’ll have a mess to clean up.
So, before I dive head first into this, check me out on one of these outlets.
* My Facebook page. Having difficulties? Type in @fromthoughtstoreaders in the URL address bar to find me.
* My email, angelobain@yahoo.com.
* Look me up on my website, angelobain.com.
There’s a link at the bottom of the page where you can drop your email address to be put on my new regularly occurring newsletter. It might look a lot like what you’re reading now, maybe more, maybe a lot more, who knows? Maybe that’s your thing. Maybe that’s how you want to be reminded.
“Hey, what’s Ol' Angelo been up to lately? I don’t want to go looking for him. I wished he’d come looking for me.”
I fill the plate and hand it to you. You’re already sitting at the email kitchen table. You just grab some utensils and dig right in when you see it. Also, there’s a link on my website where you can go to grab a handful of my new book, Caesar’s Move. Just click the little blue ‘Shop’ button or if you’re a rebel and hate to be told what to do, you might click the little hand and quill feather triangle. It might take you there. I bet it will but I didn’t tell you to do that, you rebel. See how easy that is? Multiple choice, because I care.
Now, with that out of the way … Location, Location, Location
The coveted realm of where you want to be on earth. And how does the 3 L’s play into my works, you might be asking? So glad you did. When I wrote Caesar’s Move, I decided to drop it right in the middle of Ol' San Francisco. Doesn’t it seem like every other story ever written has been located in San Fran? Please, don’t hold that against me. San Francisco. Never been
there, but I’ve spent a whole lot of time gazing at the scenery. Thank you Google Earth street side view. It’s amazing. Once you find a spot, you can keep clicking the little arrow on the street and it gives you the ‘cruising down the road’ vibe. Makes me want to lean back and throw my right arm over the back of the office chair with some YouTube kicking in another tab. Very helpful when you need to write the words to match the storyline’s feel. Anyway, here’s a tidbit of info that you might not know going into this, having not read my book yet.
>> MINUSCULE NON-SPOILER ALERT HINT TO FOLLOW, BUT NOTHING OF REAL DETRIMENT TO PLOT <<
San Fran and Italy have a similar connection about them, geographically. But I’m not going to tell you what it is. Caesar, who thinks he’s Roman ruler Caesar Augustus, lived in … surprise … Rome, Italy. I seem to have a fascination with the place. Perhaps it’s because my family tree reaches there. Perhaps it’s simply because it’s Italy, man. My upcoming book titled ‘Gahnsonne’ is set in 1952 Italy, real-time. I changed the font size there because I needed some emphasis
on the name. When you read it you will understand. Oh, the mighty Gahnsonne. There’s a heavier lace of the Italian atmosphere and peoples (in this one) than in Caesar’s Move. I will let you all know when I am finished with the master ‘Gahnsonne’. He is aching to fly off of the shelves into your waiting arms. Did I mention he is ‘the original vampire?’ So turn those necks to one side and get that neck vein ready for the release. Hopefully soon.
Moving forward, the other story I’m working on is ‘To Save One Man.’ Donald Maen, (no, that’s not a typo) boy does he have issues. I hope this is no reflection on myself. Admit it, though … we all have them. Some of us hide them better than others. ‘To Save One Man.’ Its location is set in small town southern America. As of now, I don’t think there is a single person or reference to anything with an Italian flavor to it. It aint don’t yet, though. I might get a wild hair … well, you know … and turn everybody into … my first thought was to type ‘dagos,’ but that might have offended someone. I’m of Italian decent, myself, and that doesn’t offend me in the least. You can’t take life too seriously, people. But … I decided to use a different word instead. Here it is –
I might get a wild hair ( dot dot dot) and turn everybody into … Italians. Glad I wised up and didn’t type the word ‘dago.’ (wink wink) Guess that makes me a ‘wiseguy,’ huh? (pun intended) But, unfortunately, turning everybody into Italians aint gonna happen.
‘To Save One Man,’ small town America, in instances, and the horrid place where many young men faced the demon of war to either partially conquer it or to lose entirely, in other instances. I’m talking about Vietnam, 1967. There’s no grapes or Risotto or violins here. Just … hell. Once again, I’ve never been there and I cannot say that I’ve spent any time on Google Earth street side view perusing the place. Just an enormous amount of research and talking with people. This is not a documentary, merely a fictional story. Why did I choose a location like this to write about? I don’t know. I guess it chose me.
And furthermore, after both of these have been in your hands, you’ve read them, loved them so much that you named your future children after me, and you’re wanting more (haha) … I will bring you some different locales to embrace.
*Destination: out of this world. One on the back burner stewing at a low mental heat.
*Destination: beyond life itself, into the world of the afterlife. (Insert haunting ghost sounds here) Another lightly simmering but not forgotten work, and so on.
Location, Location, Location. Every story has one. Your job is to want to go there. My job is to take you there.
Moving forward, still. I would like to give a big shout out and thanks to someone(s)
I’ve recently had the pleasure of meeting. On Saturday, I took part in the Elkins community Fall Book Bash in the mighty Metropolis town of Elkins, Ar. Myself and three other local authors were invited to set up camp, sling our books at the unsuspecting (figure of speech, people), and mingle with others who enjoy the written word. I had a great time and met some fine people, doing so. So, dropping some necessary props to Jamie and Lynn for offering me this prestigious gig (thank you so much), and to the other authors as well, Kyle Mooty, Linda Rigsbee (lindarigsbee.com), and Tamara Hart Heiner (tamarahartheiner.com). It was a pleasure meeting each of you and hope to possibly join you again sometime at future events. I wish you all of the happiness and success you could possibly handle.
Ok, Bainheads. First thing, clarification on this. The term just popped into my head and I ran with it. I have no regrets for using it and I’m quite positive it will be used in the future. If you have previously read what I have written and ‘willfully’ decided to return for another dose of me then you fall under my new umbrella title of Bainhead. If this is your first time reading then unfortunately you can only claim to be prospecting for title. Return and feast on the next installment of whatever mental ooze I decide to inflict on you good people and then you can claim Bainhead status. Yeah, whatever. It’s getting deep, right? If you’ve enjoyed my gibberish thus far, you might already be a Bainhead. I’m sorry in advance, good people.
With that said, I had an idea insert itself into my head. Yup, it just pushed on past the lobes and down into the ears. Sneaked by the drums and soared on by the cochlea until it buried itself up into my brain with eureka moment inspiration. As you already know, one of the books I am currently writing on is my fanged tooth creation, Gahnsonne. The original vampire. As of now, I would
venture to say that I am possibly a good 80% complete in finishing it. There’s still some room to tighten it up and add some substance. Tweak it here, tweak it there. So, I thought to myself …“I wonder if any of my peeps want to be one of his victims?”
If any of you would like to be written into the story, a small piece of his mayhem, then step forward. State your name and why you want in. Give me something to chew on, anything. You be the judge. Spark my interest. Master Gahnsonne needs some more necks to feed on before he is complete and you could be solidified as part of his story. Perhaps I’ll get a few volunteers and decide to run with whatever one catches my writer’s attention. Or, perhaps you will all think I’m crazy, remain silent, and I will write him to bite the lot of you, no transitioning, though. You all get drained without the possibility of becoming immortal. Sucks to be you, no pun intended. Just kidding. To bite or not to bite? Step forward and proclaim your interest.
And this concludes your tour for the evening. I thank you for not remaining seated and for your refusal to keep your arms and feet inside the moving vehicle at all times. It’s been a fun ride, kiddies. I look forward to whatever mess I can come up with on the next go around. Remember, if you feed off of me, I will feed off of you. Absolutely love hearing from you guys.
Until then, feed your brain. You owe it to yourself.
Angelo
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