On episode #163 Speculative Fiction author and technology expert Jones joins me. Don Jones is a navy brat who knows how to fix planes and write speculative fiction. He calls Southern Utah home and is considered an expert on Information Technology. Website: https://donjones.com/about-me/ *** Music on this episode courtesy of: Kevin MacLeod Mountain Emperor https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkxQFdMlZcwContinue reading “#163 Author Don Jones”
I am publishing a war story. Back in 1990, Sadam invaded Kuwait. This silliness got my dad sent to war. 13 year old me wanted to go and serve with him, so as a dad myself now I found myself writing myself into both of his wars. A-typical storytelling, as is my want. Presale soon.
Bartholomew knows the group is in combat. He isn’t stupid. He is, in fact, the most intelligent creature known to exist. “Who cares,” screams the crude man in steel-plate swinging a rude looking cudgel to smash in the frontal lobe of the two-legged small dog-like creature assailing him. “Just do something magic and aim itContinue reading “Bartholomew”
King Sigmund cowers before the glowing serpent eyes as the dragon Fafnir raises out of the water, his form changing. Serpent no longer, now twisting into an obscene figure of a Jötunn. A sea giant with hands three times as big as the red sailed karves. His dark face is a great foaming tangle ofContinue reading “Sigmund”
“Nido is a little bitch,” the All-father mumbles as if having a bit of a debate with himself. “Excuse me, ole father-of-men?” Olga was shocked to hear Odin speak so horribly about his little brother. The one-eyed god was drunk, though, that was obvious, so maybe it was forgivable. “Nevermind Olga, my problemsContinue reading “Sibling Jealousy”
I’ll likely never know what it takes to stand naked in the chillier days of March, under a star-strewn sky, pulling a God through a Euclidean plane. I’ll never know what she felt, working magic she was born to work. But I do know a slave never forgives its master, and neither will I forgiveContinue reading “Angular Slave”
The moon glows, spotted, and crevassed. A nameless hominid stares at the lunar splendor speculative as it waxes the small world of his tribe into a new hunting season.
A red would not tolerate such blatant disrespect. No, Perseida thinks as the tinkle of her brass scales announce a sudden itch she works with a clawed foot. No, a red would tromp on out there and take the man’s head as an appetizer. Yet she doesn’t because whatever deed brought them here some bardContinue reading “Brass Therapy”
Only history will note the lonely battleground. The once bloody field where hero’s faced demons, and death loomed impossible and always for someone else, where rotting corpse and rusting weapon sink into the bog forgotten forever, where courage is fleeting and cowardice dies a long lonely death. No pen can do justice to the sacrificesContinue reading “The Lonely Battlefield”