Jamdin's Journal

Goodbye Amazon Links

jamdin — Wed, 02 Apr 2025 20:30:41 GMT

I deleted a bunch of past posts that had Amazon links. The majority of them were from 2015. I also deleted some celebrity death posts that had dead links and pictures. Looks like I can still login and post here at Jamdin's Dream Realm.

Christmas Eve 2019

jamdin — Wed, 25 Dec 2019 05:29:20 GMT

I've been rereading some of the old posts on this blog and they brought back a lot of memories both good and bad. This past two years has been really rough. My father died in October of 2018 with my mother passing away in December of 2018. They had been divorced since I was a teen and I'm fifty-four now. I haven't seen my father for years and he was living in Missouri. My sister and I lived with my mother but she succumbed to lung cancer and heart problems at the local hospital. We also lost my uncle's dog on Labor Day of this year.

I've been trying to get a steady job but can't seem to keep one. I've also been trying to get disability and I'm on my sixth go around with them. I have been battling anxiety and depression with medicine but I can't afford them anymore. I had health insurance for a while but lost that when I got denied disability the last time. I worked at Arby's for a few months but got fired for not getting along with co-workers. I tried housekeeping at a retirement home but lasted less than two days mostly due to my depression.

My sister and I have been going through our mother's belongings. We got most of her clothes to a local thrift store. My sister took over her bedroom, which is a good thing because her bedroom was flooded several times. We had to replace a water pipe in her bedroom only to turn around and replace the main sewer line. I had to dig several feet of dirt out of the crawlspace to get to the sewer line. Then we had problems with the thermostat for the floor furnace.

So you can probably guess that I'm not really into Christmas this year.

Long Time

jamdin — Sun, 15 Dec 2019 05:41:21 GMT

It's been a long time since I've posted here. At least, I can still log in.

Happy New Year

jamdin — Sat, 02 Jan 2016 03:26:49 GMT

Wishing everyone a happy New Year. I hope 2016 is good to everyone.

Veterans Day 2015

jamdin — Wed, 11 Nov 2015 20:58:58 GMT

To our veterans, thank you for your sacrifice and service.

Goodnight B.B. King

jamdin — Fri, 15 May 2015 15:05:38 GMT

Another music legend passes on according to B. B. King, Defining Bluesman for Generations, Dies at 89:

B.B. King
(September 16, 1925 - May 14, 2015)

Goodnight Nigel Terry

jamdin — Mon, 04 May 2015 15:43:06 GMT

Nigel Terry, King Arthur in ‘Excalibur,’ Dead at 69.

Nigel Terry
(August 15, 1945 – April 30, 2015)

Goodngiht Grace Lee Whitney

jamdin — Mon, 04 May 2015 01:47:30 GMT

Breaking News - Grace Lee Whitney, Janice Rand of "Star Trek" dies at 85:

\
Grace Lee Whitney
(April 1, 1930 - May 1, 2015)

Goodnight Geoffry Lewis

jamdin — Fri, 10 Apr 2015 05:17:32 GMT

Geoffrey Lewis, Actor in Clint Eastwood Movies, Dies at 79:

Geoffrey Lewis
(July 31, 1935 – April 7, 2015)

Devil In The School

jamdin — Thu, 26 Feb 2015 05:12:02 GMT

I'm used to having strange dreams but the one I had last night was one worth writing about.

I was walking in a cemetary and I could see others walking also. Most of them were children but some were adults. I commented to my three kids that the older children walking on the next path over were seniors and would be graduating soon.

We reached the small school building next to the cemetary. I sat down in the back and I noticed a tall lean devil sitting across the aisle from me. He had the classic devil look complete with red skin, horns and forked tail. He was completely nude and lacke any genitals. He had no hair whatsoever. The devil in the school smiled at me and I felt he was there to cause mischief more than anything else.

I awoke feeling weird and both of my hands were totally numb.

Notes:
1. I have no kids in real life.
2. This was the second night of strapping tennis balls to both hands to help my arthritis and locking fingers.

Goodnight Little Jimmy Dickens

jamdin — Sat, 03 Jan 2015 20:15:19 GMT

More sad news in this new year at Opry star Little Jimmy Dickens dies at 94.

Little Jimmy Dickens
(December 19, 1920 – January 2, 2015)

Goodnight Donna Douglas

jamdin — Fri, 02 Jan 2015 22:01:21 GMT

The New Year has started with very sad news for actress Donna Douglas dies at 81. Not only was she Elly May Clampett on tv's Beverly Hillbillies but she also played Frankie in the movie Frankie and Johnny with Elvis Presley.

Donna Douglas
(September 26, 1933 – January 1, 2015)

Goodnight Joe Cocker

jamdin — Mon, 22 Dec 2014 20:41:03 GMT

Very sad news for Joe Cocker dies at 70. I will always remember the singer for his rendition of The Beatles' With A Little Help From My Friends at Woodstock.

Joe Cocker
(May 20, 1944 - 22 December 22, 2014)

Goodnight Joan Rivers

jamdin — Thu, 04 Sep 2014 19:37:28 GMT

Not really surprising but still sad is Joan Rivers, Comedian and TV Host, Dies at 81.

Joan Rivers
(June 8, 1933 - September 4, 2014)
(Photo courtesy of Variety)

Goodnight Robin Williams

jamdin — Tue, 12 Aug 2014 03:39:30 GMT

With a heavy heart I write this post for one of my childhood icons have passed on for Robin Williams, Oscar-winning actor, is dead at 63. I will always remember the most for his roles on tv's Mork & Mindy and the movie Good Morning, Vietnam. He will be greatly missed.

Robin Williams
(July 21, 1951 – August 11, 2014)

Silence (Poem)

jamdin — Sun, 19 Jan 2014 22:46:58 GMT

I haven't been doing much actual writing lately. However, this poem came to me earlier and here's the rough draft:

Silence

There is finally silence
After years of hearing voices
whispering...
shouting...
crying...
moaning...
No longer do I hear them
As the darkness claims me

by James F. Dinsmore
January 19, 2014 @ 3:44 pm

Goodnight Tom laughlin AKA Billy Jack

jamdin — Mon, 16 Dec 2013 19:48:12 GMT

I just learned that Tom Laughlin, Star of ‘Billy Jack,’ Dead at 82. He will be missed.

Goodnight Cory Monteith

jamdin — Sun, 14 Jul 2013 18:58:42 GMT

Sad news at 'Glee' star Cory Monteith found dead in hotel in Canada.

Last Seven Books That I Have Read

jamdin — Wed, 03 Jul 2013 19:23:07 GMT

I will admit that I have not been updating Jamdin's Journal as much as I should. There is no excuse so I thought I would post about the last seven books that I have read.

The Brothers O'Brien #4: A Time To Slaughter by William W. Johnstone with J.A. Johnstone is an entertaining adult western even if the ending was a bit of a disappointment. A school teacher is kidnapped on the Dromore ranch and Sean O'Brien is determined to bring her back. He meets up with an old bear hunter and a hangman. Together they chase a wagon full of women that will be sold to an Arabian sheik awaiting in Mexico. Overall, I gave it an A- mostly because I like the characters and some pretty grizzly scenes. I hope to read more in the series.

I finally read Robin Hood: The Story Behind The Legend by David B. Coe even though I have yet to see the movie with Russell Crowe. We all know the story but this puts a spin with Robin Longstride taking the place of Robert Loxely, a knight that planned on taking King Richard's crown back to England after he is killed in battle. Loxely's father suggests that he continues the charade so Marion can keep the land. Godfrey starts raving the villages in the name of King John but he is secretly working for the French king. The story has a good pace that spins a grim a gritty twist on Robin Hood. I also gave it an A- mostly because I enjoyed the ending.

The Unseen by Heather Graham is the fifth book in the Krewe of Hunters series. Jackson Crow is putting together a second unit in San Antonio. He enlists a local Texas Ranger named Logan Raintree and U.S. Marshal Kelsey O'Brien from Florida. There are others including her cousin, Sean. Their first mission is find out who has been killing women with a connection to the Alamo. The find out that one of the murders has ties to the Longhorn Saloon that Kelsey's childhood friend, Sandy Holly runs. Add to the mix the ghost of Rose, a whore that was murdered shortly before the Battle of the Alamo at the same inn. This is a fast paced paranormal romance that has more action that actual romance between Logan and Kelsey. The book earned an A from me.

Another Heather Graham book that I read was When Darkness Falls, which was originally published under the pen name of Shannon Drake. Jade McGregor witnesses a mass slaughter by vampires in Scotland. She and a few others survive thanks to a mysterious stranger that haunts her dreams. A series of murders a year later tell her that the vampires are after her in New Orleans. She meets the stranger again and finds out that he is a "good" vampire named Lucian. Her family and friends are in danger only he can help her with his own friends. This is the second book in the Alliance Vampires series and I have yet to read the first one, which is Beneath A Blood Red Moon. This is also a fast paced paranormal romance with plenty of horror. I gave it a B+ since the ending was over way too fast for me.

Realm of Shadows by Heather Graham is the fourth book in the Alliance Vampires series. This one finds American artist Tara Mason arriving in a small village on the outskirts of Paris to visit her cousin, Ann, and their grandfather, Jacques DeVant. He has been ill and insists that she investigates the dig going on at a local church. She meets Brent Malone, who is a werewolf. His co-worker at the dig opens the sealed tomb of an old vampire, Louisa. In order to stop her terror, Brent calls upon the vampire, Lucian, his now wife, Jade, and the new vampire, Rick. They also find out that Louisa is not working alone. This paranormal romance is slow paced until the final few chapters. There are too many flashbacks that really drags down the story. I did like the characters and the overall story but would have liked more scenes with Brent as the werewolf. Overall, I gave this book a B-.

The Night Is Watching by Heather Graham is the ninth Krewe of Hunters series. This one finds Sheriff Sloan Trent asking forensics artist Jane Everette to Lily, Arizonia after an old skull is found in the basement of the Gilded Lily. They find a bigger mystery as older bodies and fresh corpses start piling up. Jane and Sloan finds themselves falling for each other. Logan Raintree and Kelsey O'Brien are called in later to help. This is a fast paced action romance with plenty of ghosts from the Wild West. The ending did seem a little rushed to me and there were several misnaming of characters that made me wonder if this was actually proofread beforehand. I still ended up giving the book a B+ mostly because of the characters and their interactions.

Finally, World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks is a collection of "true" stories from the men and women, civilians and military, that survived the zombie apocalypse as told to a journalist. A fast paced book that sets itself apart from other zombie and horror books. I would have liked a little bit more description of the people telling the stories. Overall, I gave the book a B+ since my favorite parts were the dog and cat stories.

Goodnight Richard Matheson

jamdin — Tue, 25 Jun 2013 18:03:26 GMT

Richard Matheson, author of I Am Legend, dies at 86.

May God Stop Laughing Now

jamdin — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:50:00 GMT

May God Stop Laughing Now

by James F. Dinsmore

One.
Christmas Day was peaceful in the small Midwestern town of Little Bend. There was no hint of snow and a slight breeze drifted out of the southwest. The weather was unseasonably warmer than usual. Most of the people were enjoying the fifty degree temperature for they knew it would not last much longer.

The day was not normal for most residents. They would sleep late on that Monday and then spend the day with loved ones. Most of them would hate to get up for work the next day.

In one apartment, a young man would never face another day exactly like this one.

A police car and an ambulance were parked in front of a three-story brick building on Cherry Street. No sirens wailed as their lights flashed psychodelic colors while the sun started to set.

Strange, thought a middle-aged police officer as he closed the door of the bathroom. I never thought I would ever see a case like this in Kansas especially on Christmas Day.

"When did you find your friend?" asked the blonde-haired law officer as he withdrew a pad and a pen from his navy-blue shirt pocket.

The slender young man that he asked had light curly brown hair. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and swollen but there were no tears.

"Just like I told you earlier, Officer Reed," he said as he sat in a black bean bag. "I was coming over to see if he wanted to go to Wichita with me tomorrow. When he didn't answer the door, I knew something was wrong. Usually, he is always here when not at work. I tried the door and found it unlocked."

"So naturally you went in."

"Yeah. I found him and then called 911."

"What time was this?" the officer asked as he scratched the pad with the pen.

"A little before four."

"Did you know he was a big fan of heavy metal and the occult?" Officer Reed asked as he leaned back on a poster of Alice Cooper.

"Yeah," the young man replied as if dumbfounded by the question. "Just take a look around you."

The officer looked around the room with his baby blue eyes. There were pin-ups of Elvira, Alice Cooper, Ozzy Osbourne and other strange personalities. A five-pointed star was sprayed in red above the young man's head.

The pentagram was the same color as the shag carpet.

"He was into almost everything. Heck, we both were," the young man said. "We loved to read, write, and create stories. We were also big into role-playing games..."

"Pardon?"

"Role-playing games. Perhaps you have seen such items marked 'AD&D' in his bedroom while you were looking for drugs. Didn't find any, did you?"

"No," Reed said, feeling a little ashamed at doing his duty and always suspecting foul play. "Was he heavy into this AD&D?"

"Yeah, Advanced Dungeons and Dragons got both of us to really create some weird characters. We both loved playing the game whenever I could come over. He even made his own RPG system. He called it Storms and Shadows."

There was a pause as the young man took a moment to think.

"We never took it to the limit of seriousness like some of those college students. We found it as a way to let off steam."

The same door that Officer Reed stepped out of earlier slowly opened. A man with a light blue shirt and white slacks came out first. He pulled a stretcher out after him. Another man dressed the same as the first pushed the stretcher.

On the stretcher was a body covered with a damp white sheet.

Officer Reed stepped forward to the side of the stretcher when it stopped in the middle of the room. He pulled back the sheet so that the young man could look at the face of his friend.

The face had a fixed grin and looked a little bluish. His long brown hair was wet.

"Damn," the young man whispered while his face. "What made you do it now after all these years?"

The officer replaced the sheet on the face and walked to the front door which was exactly opposite of the bathroom door.

"Thanks, Dan," the man who pulled the stretcher said.

"Remember to watch those stairs. They are just a little too steep for my taste."

The young man took off his wire-framed glasses as Dan closed the door after the two men and the body were gone from the room.

"I have a whole lot of questions that needs answers," Reed said as the young man rubbed his eyes.

The young man replaced his glasses and nodded. There were still no sign of tears.

Reed sat down in an empty black bean bag. A rectangular wooden cabinet separated them. On the cabinet was a black compact stereo system. The features included a record turntable, AM/FM radio and duel cassette player/recorder. Beneath the cabinet, records and cassettes were stacked.

"First," he said while scribbling on the pad. "I need to know your full name for the record."

"Sure. My full name is Henry Lawrence Waterford but friends and family just call me Henry. I live at 458 Green Street with my mother, Wilma."

"Okay. Where is his parents?"

"Who knows," Henry said before taking a deep breath. "His parents divorced when he was about twelve. His father remarried and moved to Oklahoma. His mother left Little Bend a few years ago with a biker."

"All right, Henry. Please tell me what's on your mind. At times like these, it is best to share your pain."

"I knew Johnny for a long time. It's his pain that I'm feeling."

"Tell me," the officer said.

Henry took another deep breath and collected his thoughts.

So much to tell and so much to do, Henry thought before opening his lips to speak.

Two.
John Edward More was his full name. He was the most unusual man that I have ever known. He often wanted to change his birthday from Valentine's Day to Halloween. Johnny thought that his being born at 3:33 in 1966 was a sign or some omen from the beyond.

I met him in the sixth grade on a trip to the Kansas City Zoo. Johnny was the only kid with a notebook and he would often write something in it.

I had recently moved to town with my parents and so I was the new kid on the block. I needed to make friends so I introduced myself to Johnny. I can still recall his first words as he looked at the lions through his thick-lensed glasses.

"What was the name of the Frankenstein's monster?" he asked while not even taking his eyes off the caged cat.

"Adam," I replied.

He turned his head and his green eyes went wide with excitement. Johnny asked me if I was into monster movies. I replied by saying that I saw Godzilla ten times.

We got along great after that. He even showed me his notebook. There were poems in it which were mostly of love and nature. Johnny could have had a poetry book published way back then.

From that day on, we tried to get in the same classes. I found that he was very much the loner. I found out why one day in our seventh grade gym class.

Mike Stivers called him four eyes and said something about Elvis Presley being a drug addict.

Johnny's face was getting red as the other boys laughed. Calmly and for no reason, he just smiled.

When Mike asked him if he liked Tammy Wade, Johnny walked up to him. Johnny's right fist connected with Mike's nose. Mike yelled as blood ran down his nostrils.

"Don't you ever say anything bad about Tammy," Johnny yelled while looking at Mike.

Tammy was not the most popular, prettiest or smartest girl in our grade. There was something about her that attracted Johnny to her. One of the bullies pulled on her ponytail a few weeks before and he came to her aid. Johnny was sent to the principal's office and was suspended for a few days.

She would never admit if she like him or not. They never went out as far as I know. Tammy's married now with two kids.

I think Johnny often regretted not getting closer to her.

Many people teased him about his home life. Everybody in town knew that his father was a drunk. Johnny's mother was a bartender at the local private club. It was just him and her against the world.

The teasing caused him a lot of problems in being able to cope with society.

In the eighth grade, Johnny got pulled into the principal's office for writing love poems to Tammy. It wasn't her that turned him in but somebody stole it from her. Some of the poems were a bit graphic in their detail.

While Johnny could never talk around girls, he knew the right words to flatter a girl in a poem. Some of the girls thought it was cute when they got a poem him and often teased him about it. I think Tammy was the only girl that never made Johnny embarassed by letting other people read her letters from him.

He got suspended a week from school after a teacher read that one letter. She claimed that it was porn and went straight to the principal's office. Johnny never stopped writing love letters to girls but he was more careful in what he wrote.

Johnny spent the week at Cherry Steet Park. He played in the grove of trees that we knew by heart. We had a special grove in that park. We made trails that only we could follow. We always made plans to camp out there someday.

Looks like I'll be camping alone.

Three.
In high school, we discovered roleplaying games one day when we went to Wichita with my mom and older sister, Sheila. We stopped at our favorite comic book store to pick up the lastest comics when we saw a basic set of AD&D on sale. We both bought a set and quickly opened them on the way home.

Johnny freaked when he saw that the game was much like storytelling. He fell in love with it right away since it combined fantasy and horror. The first character that he created was Shastna, an elven magic user and fighter.

He mastered the game since his imagination really made the game come alive. Johnny always had a surprise in store any time that we played the game. His imagination came from all the reading he did.

Johnny loved to read anything he could get his hands on. He would read comics, magazines and novels especially if they had to do with horror, fantasy or science fiction. Johnny loved comics the most because the last thing he ever received from his father was a Captain America comic book when he got his tonsils taken out. That was he was in the third grade so he had been reading comics for a long time.

He often told me how his father would often abuse his mother and him. Johnny's mother had a scar on her left cheek where she was burnt by a steak knife. One of his darkest desire was to find his father and pay him back for all the pain he had caused.

About the end our Junior year, Johnny started to get deep into the occult and heavy metal. He bought a witchcraft manual on one of our jaunts to Wichita. Johnny drew pentagrams and placed them on his walls. He was always careful not to invert it.

Johnny wasn't into Satanism or any of the really dark religions. He always hated people who thought that Wicca and Satanism were the same. There is a big difference between the two: Wicca worships nature while Satanism worships Satan.

His favorite entertainer, Elvis Presley, was soon replaced by Alice Cooper, who took his name from a sevententh-century witch. On Halloween, I was invited to his mom's house to summon up a succubus. Needless to say that we failed in our attempt. Johnny said it was because that we started a second after midnight.

During our Senior year, I noticed a dramatic change in him. Johnny and his mom, Janet, were having problems. She was seeing a biker by the name of Vinnie Stock. He didn't want to see her mixed up with another loser.

Johnny moved into this apartment when she left Little Bend with Vinnie. It was the best and the worst thing for him.

Four.
After graduation, Johnny got a job as a drill press operator. He was making over four dollars an hour. Johnny saved and worked hard. He wanted me to move in with him. My father had just died from a heart attack so I could not leave my mother alone so soon.

We had some really wild parties. He knew these two girls from the other side of town. Their names were Becky and Amy. Becky was a shapely blonde while Amy was a brown-haired beauty.

They came over one night after getting stoned. Johnny invited them in and they brought out two bottles of Jack Danials. They also ahd a small plastic bag half-filled with pot.

I said no to the pot.

After a little sweet talk from Amy, I took a swig from one of the bottles. I wished I would have said no. Whatever was in that bottle, it was not Jack Danials.

Johnny and the girls shared a joint. I watched them as I sipped from a bottle. It was the only time that I ever knew him to take any kind of drugs.

The girls insisted on listening to music so Johnny put on Alice Cooper's Welcome To My Nightmare album. He laughed through the first few songs. The girls were all over him and me.

When the record finally got to "Only Women Bleed," Johnny started crying. He was singing to the song and crying his heart out.

It was the only time that I ever saw Johnny cry.

By the time the song was over, the girls left to find a better place to hang out. The next thing I knew, Johnny took the bottle away from me and we were sitting in the kitchen, drinking black coffee.

"Don't ever take the black road," he said while pouring the rest of the bottle down the sink. "Stay silver as long as you can, man. This world is just here for us dreamers to stay until we can get back into the dream."

I just nodded while my mind floated.

"One of these days, I'll be waking up," he continued while putting the botle in the trash. "You won't be able to stop me and when you find me, you'll be wanting to follow me. Let me tell you that your time will not be ready for a very long time. I want you to try to make the big bucks that I can't seem to get with my work. Find someone to publish my poems and stories. I know that you can do it for I about to wake up."

That was a week ago.

Five.
The room was silent as the young man looked at the law officer. Reed could see that there was pain in Henry's eyes.

"Looks like he finally woke up," Henry said. "I have a lot of work to do. Getting his stuff together will be painful..."

"I wouldn't mind taking a look at some of his work," Officer Reed said.

"Well, I could recite a poem of his right now."

"Would you?"

"Sure," Henry said with a small smile. "The last one that the wrote was my favorite. I never knew why he wrote it until today. It's called Entitled To Death and goes:

"The stainless steel blade shines as I hold it to the light.
How easy it would be even if the deed is not right.
A deep slice ehre on my wrist, cutting deep and withdrawing blood.
I can feel the river of death, washing over my sould like a flood.
Regrets do not enter my mind for I was a failure in life.
Lay me down to rest in peace and slowly play the hollow fife."

The silence was loud in Reed's ears.

"That was good," he finally said. "Where does he keep all of his work."

Henry was staring at a poster of Alice Cooper that was on the door to the left of the bathroom.

"He keeps them in a file cabinet at the foot of his bed."

"I looked in there when I was searching the apartment. The file cabinet is empty..."

"What?!" Henry said before getting to his feet and running to the bedroom door.

He opened the door and reached to his left for the light switch. Upon finding the switch, he flipped it up.

A big sigh escaped Henry as his eyes focused upon the bed across from the door. On the purple blanket, a large box sat. He crossed the black carpet to the bed and looked at the name written in red.

"For Henry Waterford," he read aloud.

Reed frowned as he looked around the room. He saw a sword hanging diagonally above the bed. Its twin was in a plastic bag in the bathroom along with the empty sleeping pill container.

The reporters are going to have field day with this suicide, Reed thought as Henry opened the box.

Inside the box were folders of papers and a note.

"Thanks for your help, Henry," Reed said as he turned around. "Before I go, could you give me an idea what Johnny may have wanted on his tombstone?"

"Sure," Henry said as he glanced at the note. "Something like: John Edward More, born February 14th, 1966, died December 25th, 1988. May God stop laughing now!"

Henry wept as Reed closed the door behind him.

© James F. Dinsmore @ 2013

A Study In Madness (Story)

jamdin — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:37:37 GMT

A Study In Madness

by James F. Dinsmore

He sat in a square room fitted with white-padding on the walls and floor. There were no windows and only an outline of a door. The whiteness matched the straight jacket that he wore. The only presence of any other colors was his curly flowing red hair, steel gray eyes and powder blue pajama bottoms. Light was provided by a single caged bulb in the high ceiling.

The man was lean and slightly taller than an average man. He wore neither a smile nor a frown. His eyes stared at an unseen point on the floor. His attention did not leave that spot when the door opened outward.

A woman stood in the doorway with two men behind her. She wore a suit and had her dark brown hair in a bun on her head. Her green eyes fixed on the man in the room and she smiled faintly.

"You have a visitor, Dean," she finally said.

"There is no one here with that name," the man whispered.

"Who is here today?" she asked with a frown.

"You know who I am..."

"I know that you think that you are Wilmes the Wanderer. However, your real name is Dean Halfpenny."

"I know of no Dean Halfpenny," the man said loudly. "I am Wilmes the Wanderer and I demand to be free of this dungeon."

The woman clicked her tongue and shook her head.

He is the same, she thought. He is too far gone to help.

"Would you like to see your visitor?" she asked.

"I wish only to see my jailor, woman. In other words, send me your master or mistress."

"Your friend, Brian...er, Morgoon is here to see you."

There was a moment of silence as the man resumed to the invisible point on the floor. Without warning, he turned his head to the woman and smiled.

"You tried to trick me,:" he said. "Morgoon is in the woods of Avalon with his wife, Nitha."

The woman shook her head in despair. She signaled the two men behind her to stay before she walked into the room. The door went shut behind her.

"Do you know how long you have been in this room?" she asked while standing near the \ outline of the door.

"Aye," the man replied with a slight nod. "I have been in this cell for three years. I have yet to see your superior."

"You have only been here for three months. Do you know why you are here?"

"I am here on some whim of your master or mistress. Perhaps he or she would like me to tell them about the secret of the minstrels."

"Which is?"

"None of your damn business!"

"I don't like your language, young man."

The man looked quickly at her. There was a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

"And I do not like to be held here against my will," he replied.

"You would not be here if you would separate reality and fantasy."

"Separate reality and fantasy, ha. A great minstrel once said 'one cannot have reality without fantasy and one cannot have fantasy without reality.' I tend to agree with him."

"You agree with a thought of your own mind. You make excuses so you can escape reality."

"You talk nonsense. A minstrel need no excuses to sing what in in his heart. If I ever leave this cell of your's, I would sing of freedom that I so much crave for."

The woman only nodded.

I need to get him to see Brian, she thought. Maybe he can help him.

"Tell me something about Morgoon."

"Why should I tell you anything if he is here?" he asked with a grin. "You could use my knowlege against him."

"You have a very paranoid personality. Have you any friends other than Margoon?"

"I have many friends."

"Such as?"

"Freeheart, Halfpint, Lianna, Dwarde, Tribar. Shall I continue?"

The man returned his attention to the floor. He wore no expression. Slowly, he turned his head toward the woman and looked into her eyes for the first time.

"Freeheart was a lover of warfare. When the Desert War awoke the sand dragon, he went to fight. He lost a finger but got a hero's welcome. Tribar, on the other hand, fought long and hard years earlier in the Jungle War. He lost both legs and came home only to be called a baby killer. Poor, poor fool..."

The man shook his head and sighed.

"What about Halfpint?"

"Halfpint was a rogue in the truest sense of the word. He is now in the South Lands after stealing a wagon and a courtisan. It has been a long time since I have seen him. When I take my leave of this cell, I shall like to visit him."

The man suddenly laughed loudly and long.

"What's so funny?" the woman asked.

"I know why you have me here in this cell," the man replied after he calmed down. "You think that Wilmes the Wanderer knows the whereabouts of the Seven Songs of Samade. How foolish do you think I am?"

The woman was taken aback.

He's mad, she thought while looking at him. Mad as a hatter.

"I don't care about the Seven Songs," she said. "I want to know if you want see your friend, Brian Hornsby?"

"I know of no Brian Hornsby."

The woman rolled up her eyes and sighed.

"Then do you want to speak with Margoon?" she asked.

"Bring him if he is indeed here."

The woman pounded her fist on the door. It quickly opened and she stepped out. The door quickly closed and the man went back to staring at the floor.

The door opened again several minutes later. The man did not acknowledged the opening and was unaware of the stocky young man that entered the room. His hair was white as snow and he wore sunglasses.

"Greetings, Wilmes," the newcomer said.

"Greetings, Margoon," the man said as he turned to face his friend. "They have captured me and I do not know why."

"I do, my friend. I remember the day you broke down into insanity."

"Insanity is a way of life for a minstrel. We do not acknowledge Order. You should know that by now."

"I have bad news. Freeheart died yesterday in a weapon accident. I've come to ask you if you would like to attend the funeral."

The man known as Wilmes laughed before struggling to stand. With help of the padded wall, he succeeded in getting to his feet.

"Help me leave this place, Brian," he whispered in his friend's ear. "Mother had no reason to take the advice of that psychologist. I have money stashed away and we could start someplace else. We could start our own community. I need to be free. Free to be myself."

The man laughed again before starting to cry.

"I miss being able to write my poems," he said after a moan. "They won't give me paper and pencil. They say that being a poet is unrealistic. It is my nature to write what I feel. Only you know what I mean. Help me, Brian."

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can talk to Mrs. Mills. If not, then you'll be free at the funeral.

A smile rose on Dean Halfpenny's face.

"May the Lord and Lady smile upon you, my friend," he said. "I am not totally mad. Just because I rather walk on my own two feet than drive a car, mother sticks me in this hellhole. Does that make me insane?"

Brain shook his head.

But suicide does, he thought. If only you didn't swallow that bottle of pills. Why couldn't I have been the one to find you?

"Cooperate with them, Dean," Brian said. "Act normal or at least stop acting like Wilmes. You'll be out much faster that way."

"Perhaps."

Brian placed his hands upon Dean's shoulders. He looked in his friend's eyes.

"I wish you would take off those sunglasses if you want to make eye contact with me," Dean said.

Brian grinned. That was his old friend talking.

"I better go," he said. "I need to get our suits pressed. Do you want to give anybody a message?"

Dean nodded.

"Can you remember a poem for me?"

Brian withdrew his hands and reached into his back pocket. He withdrew a pen and a notepad. Brian clicked the pen and placed the ballpoint on the top sheet of paper.

"I'm always prepared," Brian smiled.

"Good. Here's what I want you to write," Dean said before he began reciting his poem.

Dean Halfpenny's poem was found on the desk of Mrs. Mills two days after his sudden disappearance. She read it to his mother over the phone:

"I sit here looking at the whiteness
And I see nothing but the lightness
Of those poor souls who are pure.
Why do I not feel safe and secure?
I hear the voices that call from the darkness
And I wonder why life is such a bliss.
When I see hunger, pain, sorrow and abuse,
It gives my madness such a short fuse."

© James F. Dinsmore @ 2013

A Mad Queen (Fantasy Story)

jamdin — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:31:13 GMT

A Mad Queen

by James F. Dinsmore

There is a place on Shadorm like no other place. Many of the Elders speak of this place only in whispers. This place is now in ruins and many have nothing more to fear from the magic that once inhabited it. I know for I have visited the ruins of Valhear, village of a mad queen.

Valhear was once a thriving village north of the Bronze Mountains. Like most villages of that area, the residents were giants among men. However, whereas a male chieftain ruled the other villages, a woman strong of will and wit ruled Valhear.

Thysorn was her name when she was born and she bested many men to gain the right to become the chieftain. The previous chieftain died in a raid by the dreaded Torcs. She stood over six feet and six inches with the thirst of battle that came easy to the men. Thysorn's reddish-brown hair was kept long but braided and her eyes were like emeralds. She bore only one child during her life and that was a son, Rydclef, who lived only thirteen summers before being killed by a Torc himself.

Like most giants, Thysorn hated Torcs but the death of Rydclef made her hatred burn stronger than others. She knew that magic was best left to the shamans but she hungered for the power to kill all the Torces that she could. Her mate, Yracson, had left Valhear shortly after Rydclef's death to search for some magical item rumored to return the dead to the living.

Some say that Thysorn told Yracson to seach for the Standing Stone. Others say that he wanted nothing more to do with his mate. Whatever the reason, Yracson was absent for several years.

During those years, Thysorn found a necromancer and studied the Dark Arts under him. She had heard stories of how those Dark Mages could work wonders beyond the realm of the living. Thysorn wanted that power to bring utter destruction upon the Torcs. She was selfish in her reasoning for her clan soon became to fear her new powers.

During a raid upon a Torcish cave, Thysorn demonstrated her newfound powers. She raised her hand and spheres black as coal came forth. Many of the warriors who returned that day swore never to raid again with Thysorn.

The warriors who feared their chieftain the most left that day. Thysorn did not care for she had more power than ever before. The raids continued as her power grew and she soon thought to take over the king's throne. Thysorn believed if that she ruled the land then no Torcs would be left alive.

Rumors about Thysorn's thirst for power spread throughout the land like wildfire. The Torcs began gathering their forces and planning for an open war. They began their blood sacrifices to gain help from their foul deities. King Lymm of the giants sent a messenger to Thysorn requesting a meeting about her recent behavior. She sent him back the lad's head as an open challenge. This outraged the king and gathered his own loyal warriors and went to Valhear himself. King Lymm told Thysorn that the people did not want open war with the Torcs. She replied with a black sphere directed at his heart.

In a bloody battle that followed, the Bronze Mountains is said to have screamed in anger. King Lymm and his men were all but destroyed. One warrior barely escaped with his life and hid in the Bronze Mountains. Thysorn claimed the throne of Kenrob for herself.

The warrior who escaped the fate of King Lymm was named Gyse and he hanged on the edge of death for several days. He was found and nourished back to health by Yracson, who revealed that he had found the Standing Stone but could not bring himself to let Thysorn use it. He lived in the Bronze Mountains instead of returning to Valhear.

Gyse told Yracson what had happened and the pair knew that they could not stop Thysorn themselves. Gyse left for Merlac in search of a mage who could counteract Thysorn's spells. He found Daylock and his group outside of Zimmer. Daylock was an old wizard born with great magic.

Halfear and Longear Paragon, two Shydhe brothers, accompanied Daylock. The mage himself was rumored to be half-Shydhe. Halfear was a fighter and Longear was a mage-in-training. Gyse had to put up the siblings constant bickering that soon got on his nerves.

While Gyse made his journey, Thysorn began her war campaign. She began making speeches that the Torcs were responsible for the death of King Lymm. The warriors flocked to her side since it had been ages since they tasted an actual war. Battles soon broke out in Kenrob with Thysorn enjoying several victories.

Gyse returned to Kenrob with Daylock and the brothers. Yracson was skeptical that the wizard could stop Thysorn now. The five went to her and demanded that she stop the war before both races were wiped out. Thysorn rallied her warrior and a battle broke out.

Yracson, Gyse and Halfear held Thysorn's warriors at bay while Daylock battled the mad queen with spells. Longear was trying to help his brother but too weak in spells and swordplay to be of much use. When Thysorn held up her hand to throw a black sphere at Daylock, Gyse screamed a warning. Yracson was the closest to Daylock and threw himself in front of the wizard. The black sphere hit him in the chest.

Noticing what she had done, Thysorn cried out for all to stop. She went to her mate, who was slowly dying and asked for forgiveness. Yracson whispered that he would always love the woman who was once Thysorn the chief but never the one who called herself queen. He died in her arms and she wept like the day she did when she heard about her son's death.

Knowing that she had done her people great wrong by thinking only of herself, Thysorn gave the word to stop the war against the Torcs. She then resigned as queen and asked that Yracson be given the warrior's funeral. Most of Valhear was unoccupied and those who still lived there agreed to the funeral. With Yracson in the middle of the village, his body was hoisted onto several large three trunks. Thysorn threw a torch onto the dry logs and then Gyse set the buildings on fire. Out of Thysorn's home came the necromancer with hands filled with gold. He shouted his dismay and was killed by Gyse after a short chase. His body was tied to two spears by the road leading into Valhear.

As the village burned, Daylock and the brothers left Thysorn crying on Gyse's shoulder. They did not look back when they heard her scream a final time. A few days later, her head was found on a spear near the necromancer's body.

Gyse claimed the throne of Kenrob and the people were happy once again.

© James F. Dinsmore @ 2013

Heather Ale (Fantasy Story)

jamdin — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:29:25 GMT

Heather Ale

by James F. Dinsmore

The lightly tanned man knelt in the small field and used his golden sickle to cut a handful of heather. His mid-back dark-brown hair blew out from behind him as he stood up. He brought the freshly cut bundle to his nose and breathed in the freshness.

A wind is coming up the northwest, he thought to himself. Maybe we'll finally get some rain tonight.

The man placed the heather in a wicker basket that was overflowing. He walked down the little dirt path leading to a small hut. His brown robe was dirty at the knees and he wiped off most of it before entering.

"About time you showed up," he said after closing the door.

At a small table, sat a short heavy-set man with a long gray beard that matched his braided hair. In front of him sat a half-empty mug of ale beside a large pitcher.

"It's nice to see you too, Pyne," the dwarf replied as he wiped his lips. "It's been, what.. twenty years?"

"Eighteen years, sixty-two days and four hours to be exact, Nayha," Pyne replied as he began stinging the heather on the wall. "But who's keeping track? So what brings you to my humble hut?"

"Well, it's not drink your heather ale, that's for sure," the dwarf answered with a bitter face. "It does, however have to do with Lady Donlanie."

At the mentioning of the woman's name, Pyne stopped his work. He sat down on the other side of the table and poured himself a mug of ale. He took two large swallows before shaking his head.

"I thought she made it perfectly clear that she didn't need my help," Pyne said before taking another swallow.

"She's beyond help," Nayha whispered. "But her son is not. Seems he wants to become a soldier."

"Nothing wrong with that. If he's anything like Lady Donlanie and Lord Shalor, he should be a great fighter."

Nayha refilled his mug with the last of the pitcher's ale. He took a swallow and belched.

"So you don't know," the dwarf said. "He's not Lord Shalar's true son. The lad has a green thumb much like his real father."

Pyne sat in silence for several moments. During that time, he remembered when he parted ways with Lady Donlanie. The gold-furred Felurr woman was lean, lithe and quick-tempered. She had thrown a pot at him when he told her that he was returning home. Lady Donlanie had hired him to teach her own druids the fine art of brewing. Pyne had done that all the while falling in love with her. However, she was married to Lord Shalar and he soon found out that she was just using him to make her husband jealous. After three years of being Lady Donlanie's playmate, Pyne had returned home back to his precious heather farm.

"If the boy has his heart on becoming a soldier," Pyne finally said. "Then let him. I take it Lord Shalar still claims him as his own?"

"Aye," Neyha replied. "He knows the lad is not his own due to his half-human, half-Felurr heritage but he claims the lad as his own blood."

"Good. The boy is better off without me. I'm but a humble druid brewing my heather ale for the local taverns. Let him serve in his father's army. If he survives then his green thumb will serve him well when he ties of the bloodshed."

"Don't you have any desire to see him?"

Pyne shook his head before finishing off his ale.

"Lady Donlanie didn't seem to want me to know that I had a son. Just because you told me today does not change much. I'm sure you'll be there to keep an eye on him like you've done in the past. If he truly needs help then you can send for me. I will help him face any danger but I will not be a father when he already has one in Lord Shalar."

"As you wish, Pyne," Nayha nodded as he stood up. "I hope your next batch of heather ale turns out better than the last."

The dwarf strode to the door and left without another word. Pyne watched his old friend go before refilling the pitcher with more heather ale from a large keg in the corner. He finished off another mug of the drink

I'm happy here, the druid thought. I don't need to play nursemaid to some runt that I hardly know. On the other hand, I'm getting tired of having no one else to talk to. Bah, what's the use...

Pyne stood up and stretched before opening the door. Much to his surprise, the dwarf was standing on the opposite side with his hands firmly on his hips.

"What took you so long?" Nayha said with a grin.

"Let me pack a few items and then we'll leave," Pyne replied. "Unless you have any more surprises for me today?"

The dwarf shook his head and waited for the druid.

© James F. Dinsmore @ 2013

My Uncle's Appendix

jamdin — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 04:29:12 GMT

My uncle's appendix burst last night and he had surgery earlier today to remove it. He will be kept at the hospital for three to four days to make sure there is no infection.