Chapter:
Varina Lee Evans stood in a warm glow of the light, watching as the buckboard disappeared into the gathering darkness. Elizabeth and Josie Walsh, the wife and daughter of the general store owner, had come to pay a social call. At least, that was the reason Josie understood for their coming and it was the excuse that both Varina and Elizabeth would use, should anyone ask.
Elizabeth had come for advice, advice that she could ask of neither the Pastor nor from her husband, Elliot, and she was not Catholic that she could confide in a priest. That left, very naturally to her mind, the Widow Evans.
Varina Evans and Elizabeth Walsh were not what people might refer to as bosom friends. In fact, there was no one in town that could claim that relationship with Varina, unless it was her daughter-in-law, Helen. It was not close-friendship that brought Elizabeth to Varina, then, but a sort of fealty. The Evans were the founders of Evanston, the owners of the largest spread, and, according to most, the de facto rulers of the town, a story that Varina and both of her sons vehemently denied. But distance themselves as they might, people still thought of them as the chief family in town and when there was a civic problem, the Evans were usually the first turned to.
Darkness closed around the buckboard and the rattling sound faded as the two women drove back to town. Varina thought, It wasn’t too long ago when such a short journey would have been too dangerous for two unarmed women. How fast things have changed.
Now the dangers were different.
From somewhere in the house, a door slammed heavily and she heard her son’s voice echoing through the rooms. John Henry had returned and from the sound of his voice, he’d seen the editorial, too.
She left the relative peace of the darkened porch and went inside.
The Evans mansion, as it was called by the locals, was an enormous, rambling structure that combined the practical needs of a ranch headquarters with the style of a Southern plantation house. The over-sized rooms were decorated with rich wall paper and plush carpeting, ornate candelabras, and heavy furniture. There was a piano in the parlor and a balcony outside her bedroom. Her deceased husband John had done his best, in a heavy-handed fashion, to provide her with a house that was like the one she’d grown up in. He'd succeeded only in reminding her how different life out west was from the one she’d known.
John Henry was in the living room, standing before the fire place, rubbing his chin. He was dusty and grimy from the road, and the full day and he looked as though he’d love to put his fist through the wall. Trigger Olsen, one of their senior hands, was present too, running his hat through his hands.
She stopped in the doorway and nodded to Trigger.
“Good evening, Trigger,” she said. “You two are working late tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Trigger bobbed his head, glancing at John Henry as he did so. “We, uh, ran into some trouble in the north pasture.”
John Henry looked sharply at him.
“Well,” Varina said evenly, “no matter. We kept dinner warm for you. It’s waiting in the kitchen.”
Trigger waited for John Henry’s nod before scampering off. He was too well acquainted with the Evans to want to be in the middle of a family discussion.
When he was gone, Varina went and sat in the armchair, lowering herself carefully and smoothing her skirts as she did. John Henry kept his eyes on the fire place. The air chilled at night, so a small fire was always started at the end of the day. With Helen expecting in a few short weeks, the extra precaution was considered even more necessary.
When John Henry didn’t speak, Varina did.
“The north pasture?” she asked.
John Henry seized the poker and stabbed at the logs.
“Broken fence again,” he muttered. “We patched it. Thomas around?”
“He’s upstairs, with Helen.”
She waited another moment, then said, “I understand you paid a call on Matthew Goodnight this afternoon.”
With a growl, John Henry threw the poker back into the stand and began to stride about the floor impatiently.
“According to Josie Walsh, it didn’t go well,” Varina ventured.
“Josie Walsh!” he said, with disdain. “What does she know about anything?”
“She was under the impression that someone pulled a gun today, John Henry. That someone pulled a gun on you after you attacked Matthew Goodnight.”
He stopped in front of her.
“I couldn’t let him get away with printing that article,” he said. “Not when it’ll affect Thomas. You know it’ll hurt his chances in the election – it’ll hurt his chances with anything.”
She looked up at him levelly. It was moments like these that he looked most like his father – a big man. Too big, she sometimes thought.
“And do you think he’ll print a retraction now?” she asked, ice in her tone.
He hesitated, then turned away, only just refraining from swearing.
“We can’t just let him do this!” he muttered through gritted teeth and his fist came down on the mantelpiece, making the china dolls dance. “Something must be done!”
Varina Evans waited a few moments. In dealing with John Henry, she found that some of the techniques she employed on her husband were most effective. No one would have accused the late John Thomas Evans of being a whipped man, but then few knew Varina very well. And though the son was very much like the father, there was one difference: John Henry was much more bullheaded than John and try as she might, she could only influence, not control.
He is much more like me than his father in that respect, she thought. He’s his own man. I can only do so much with him. He is like his father – but he is not John.
She waited until she was ready, then said, “Elizabeth Walsh was here today.”
John Henry turned, frowning. She watched his hands flex.  
“What did she want?” he asked.
Varina drew in a breath and looked up at him steadily. “She came to tell me what I already knew. You’re right, John Henry. We have got to do something about Matthew Goodnight.”

I've decided to start a new feature for Fridays - Every other Friday, I'll showcase a snippet from either a work in progress or an old manuscript, a new short story, or random poem or scene from a never-finished book. If you like what you read, be sure to leave a comment below! 

Today's #FridayReads is from a work-in-progress tentatively called The Tour Guide. It's a romantic comedy about Gwen, a young woman who has never been to Ireland who is forced by circumstance to lead a tour group there. Naturally, all sorts of calamities and comedic problems ensue. In re-doing the manuscript, this scene, in which two 60+ travelers meet their tour guide for the first time, was cut for brevity, but I still rather like it. Enjoy!

Deleted Scene from The Tour Guide, by Killarney Traynor

​The tour guide from Chambers Adventure Tours was not, as Emily had supposed, a charming old Irish gentleman, but instead a polished, somewhat nervous young woman with blond hair and a Boston accent.
“Welcome to Ireland!” the young woman said. “I hope you had a good flight!”
“Cead mile failte!” Emily replied, holding out her hand to shake.
The young tour guide’s mouth dropped open and for a moment, there was a very awkward pause, broken only when Emily spoke. “That means, ‘a hundred thousand greetings’,” she said kindly. “It’s an old Irish phrase I picked up somewhere.”
The guide’s face cleared and she nodded in understanding.
“Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “Well, the same back at you, I’m sure.”
Emily gave Rose a look as though to say, What sort of a tour guide did they send us?
As though in answer to the question, the young woman introduced herself as Gwen Chambers, took their names, and then gestured them over to a lounge area.
“I’m afraid there is a bit of a wait before we get to our hotel,” she explained. “We’ve a few more planes to greet, but I think you’ll find this area comfortable.”
Rose didn’t mind a break between bus and plane and at Emily’s suggestion they got coffee and bagels at one of the little cafes.
“What kind of a tour guide did they give us that doesn’t even know that phrase?” Rose muttered as Emily was carefully counting out some Euros. “Even I know it from greeting cards.”
Emily gave her a side long look as she handed the coins to the girl behind the counter. “You didn’t recognize her name?”
“I don’t even remember her name – it’s too early in the morning.”
“Gwen Chambers,” Emily said. “They didn’t just send us a tour guide on this tour – they sent us the boss’s daughter. Now, why do you suppose that is?”
It was an interesting question and one that kept them occupied during the hour wait for their departure by bus. Three more planes arrived in that time and the little lounge was soon crowded with half-asleep Americans in t-shirts, dragging over-sized suitcases with Chambers’ luggage tags dangling from the handles. Eventually, Gwen came over, smiling brightly over her clip-board.
“Well, if you are all ready,” she said. “Shall we go to our hotel?”
No one objected and all filed after her, dragging bags and sipping from paper mugs. When they got outside, there was a bit of a hold up as Gwen searched for their bus among the dozens parked outside, but soon enough came trotting back to them, her smile firmly in place, her high-heel shoes clacking on the pavement.
“Just a few more steps this ways,” she said brightly.
“Just follow Tour Guide Barbie,” one of the men behind Rose muttered and immediately a woman protested, “Oh, Hal!” in an annoyed tone.
The driver was a stocky, handsome man in a leather jacket. He stood by the door, helping people with the first step while Gwen ran back and forth among the line, checking and double checking to see if they’d forgotten anyone. Rose and Emily settled into one of the middle rows and Emily leaned over to whisper, “He’s a cute one, isn’t he?”
“Who, the driver?”
“Well, I wasn’t talking about Hal.” Emily looked over as Gwen, the tour guide, popped up in front to see if everyone was settled. “And she’s very pretty.”
“Don’t you go match-making,” Rose warned. “It never works out.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Emily said. “I just like seeing people happy. Anyway, there’s not much I can do for the pair of them, except sit back and watch the fireworks.”
As she said this, the driver came in, brushing by Gwen as he slipped into his seat. When she turned to give him a cool stare, the man just smirked at her.
“Oh yes,” Emily said with satisfaction. “This is going to be a fun trip.”

In any line of work or creative endeavor, it's easy to feel frustrated or empty or alone, as though no one has ever walked this path before. Luckily, there are many who have gone before and left behind some trail markers to let us know we're going in the right direction.

Synopsis: The Enterprise is called to Sherman's Planet, where agricultural scientist Jean Czerny is adapting a new quadrotriticale seed (The Trouble with Tribbles, anyone?). However, by the time they arrive, Jean has been taken captive by Commander Kang, a ruthless Klingon who will do anything to get the new seed to his starving worlds, including using force on the scientist. But Jean is not all that she seems and the situation is not a simple case of kidnapping. Jean is forced to live among the Klingons, working to end the famine that threatens their empire. But even as she adapts to her brutal new surroundings, new dangers and intrigues threaten to overwhelm her and her newly adopted mission of mercy. Will she ever see the Federation again?

Pawns and Symbols is... frankly, a weird entry in the series. It reads more like a historical romance book than a Star Trek episode: an intelligent young woman is captured by a powerful, but still attractive half-savage and uses both her brains and her body to survive the encounter, learning, as she does, that the man and the culture are not quite as bad as she first thought. It reminded me a lot of the 1919 novel The Sheik, and that's no compliment. The Sheik, the story a man who captures and brutalizes a woman who eventually falls in love with him, was a sensation in it's time, spawning a popular movie and sequel. In Pawns, after his attempt to rape Jean is interrupted, Kang forces her into a sort of concubine role and she is used and abused throughout the rest of the book, beaten quite severely at times. I may be oversensitive, but I found this to be an uncomfortable read. Abusive characters like the Sheik and Kang are next to impossible to redeem and encouraging fantasies about them and excusing their behavior is a dangerous game to play.

Anyhoo, preaching aside, Kirk and crew are hardly in the book at all, though they are well written when they appear (there's an odd episode with them in the middle book that seems more like a short story than a necessary part of the novel). The author goes into great detail about the Klingon Empire, but while she spends a lot of time on Jean and Kang, she leaves her other new characters short on personality and backstory. In sum, the book feels more like better-than-most fan-fiction written by a woman who had a lot of fantasies about Klingons (in particular, the commander from Day of the Dove) and probably should talk to someone about that.

​Not recommended: skip this and go see next week's theater showings of Wrath of Khan instead.

​Name: Dr. Klugman
Position: Coroner
Category: Investigator
Played By: Robb Buckland

​(Excerpt from the book)
​​
The coroner was sitting on one of the five chairs that lined the wall, a clipboard in hand.
“Lawrence!” he called, when Lawrence lifted his head from his examination. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”
Dr. Klugman had worked in the state coroner’s office almost as long as Lawrence had been a cop and his signature caustic wit was legendary among his peers. He was a big man, with a shelf full of awards achieved through various martial arts competitions. He was thorough, competent, and unflappable, though his humor was not always in the best of taste. Lawrence often thought that his tactless front was Klugman’s way of keeping sane in what had to be an emotionally trying job.
Lawrence nodded wearily and rose to his feet. “I feel like it, too.” He gestured. “What have we got?”
“A dead woman.”
“I can see that.”
Klugman grinned, then turned to the victim, placing his hands on his widespread knees. “It’s impossible to determine what she died of here, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a pleasant way to go. You can see here, where her back is arched and the distension of the jaw line. Horrendous agony.” He grinned when Lawrence shuddered. “We are feeling skittish today..”
​

Robb Buckland is an actor, stuntman, martial artist, and Army Veteran. He's a veteran of over 40 years in martial arts, holds master level in multiple styles, has been awarded the title Kyoshi (teacher of teachers), and his expertise has lead to numerous film, TV, and magazine appearances. He founded Fearless Family Martial Arts and directs a stunt team for area film makers. He has also appeared in Narrow Street Films' Not That Guy and The Man Who Wasn't Tex Magru.

​

Name: Bridget Madden
Position: Student at Noble College, aspiring singer, Emma Gagon's ward
Category: Suspect
Played By: Calico Traynor

(Excerpt from the book:)
Calm, calm, Bridget. Calm.
She yanked out her phone, pulling up Colin’s number as she swore under her breath.
Men! They never get back to you, even when it’s important.
She sent him a quick, stinging reminder, and slapped the phone impatiently onto the counter. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths, then opened them and looked into the mirror. Large, dark eyes stared back at her from beneath long lashes. Her hair, black and glossy, was pulled up in a messy bun. She had dressed with more than her usual care this morning, selecting a salmon colored blouse to highlight her olive skin and high-heeled boots to disguise her short stature. She was slim and delicately featured, with an active mind and a temperament that reminded those who had known him of her father, a man Bridget had never met.
She stared at her reflection and the thought flashed through her mind before she could stop it: Is this really the face of a star?
The thought snapped her out of her reverie and she shook herself, thinking fiercely, You can’t afford that kind of thinking, Bridget, not today of all days.
She had to go out and rehearse and she knew that the act of singing would be soothing. Still she lingered in the bathroom, touching up her lipstick, checking her phone. Emma would be coming by the rehearsal today, bringing some woman with her. They’d want to talk and Bridget could not afford that. She had been carefully avoiding Emma for the past few days. All she needed was a few more hours to do what she knew had to be done.
You can’t interfere now, Emma. I can’t let you.
A string of piano chords rang merrily throughout the hall. Arlene was growing impatient.
Bridget took one last look at herself in the mirror and thought, This is the face of a woman who knows what she is doing. And no one, especially not Emma, is going to stop me...

Calico Traynor is an actress, history buff, and office manager who has worked on and off with Narrow Street Films since she was five years old. She's also worked on her own film projects, including a homage to the classic TV show Perry Mason. She now works at Narrow Street Films full time as an office manager, social media guru, and all-around wrangler.

Name: Emma Gagnon
Position: Professor at Noble College
Category: Victim
Played By: Susan Sanders

(Excerpt from book)
Then Harry gestured to the phone in her hand. “You’re a popular woman tonight.”
Her stomach clenched and suddenly Emma became alert. She swiped to open the phone, praying that her features were schooled enough so that Harry could not see the fear.
He can’t know. He’d never understand and he wouldn’t stand for it.
But it had to be done. Of that, Emma was sure.
It was as she had suspected; eight calls and a barrage of text messages, each one more insistent and panicky. They were all from the same person, all starting from early this evening, all doubtless about the same subject.
So, Emma thought. She got my message. Maybe this will work out after all.
She looked at her watch. It was too late for conversations tonight, even if she could manage it without catching Harry’s attention. Tomorrow would be soon enough.
She started typing, We’ll discuss it when I see you tomorrow…
She willed herself to be calm and reasonable in her response but she could not shake the feeling that she was getting in way over her head.

Name: Samantha Harris (Pen name SJ Harris)
​Position: Best selling author of thriller novels, guest lecturer at Noble College
Category: Suspect
Played by: Christie Devine

Samantha Harris is a successful, attractive, and accomplished 42-year-old mystery author who obtains her inspiration for writing from her past experiences and traumas. Traveling from her home state of California to be a guest lecturer at Noble College, she thought it would be nice to visit her alma mater... until the ghosts of her past return in full force.

Married to her second husband, who seldom plays a significant role of support, the light of Samantha's life is her 15 year old son, Matthew. As the situation grows dark and the body count rises, it will take everything Samantha has to protect him from the knowledge which could surface during their visit to New Hampshire.
​
All Samantha is now and was then have clashed... And when circumstance meet opportunity, the events of the past, for better or for worse, will be unveiled.

About Christie Devine: Christie is a New England based actor from Boston who accidentally discovered her love for acting in 2013. Since then, she has expanded her knowledge of acting, developed her respect for the craft, taken many informative classes and workshops and gratefully put a large number of miles on her car. Nothing makes Christie happier than being on set and having a group of amazing and professional people collaborate for a common love. She has been cast in a number of feature films, short films, web series and commercials... All of which have led her to an experience she needed to have or someone she needed to meet. Christie enjoyed the experience of playing author, S.J. Harris in "Michael Lawrence" and she looks forward to the bright future opportunities that await her in acting career.

Name: Thomas Atkinson
Position: Bookstore owner and alumnus of Noble College
Category: Suspect
Played by: Chris Dubey

Thomas Atkinson could have been anything he wanted. Why he chose to end up a semi-reclusive owner of a bookstore in the middle of Portsmouth is anyone's guess. But while Thomas might seem inconsequential, he's connected to all the major players in the case: he was Emma Gagnon's friend, Sarah Hopper's employer, Prof. Stewart's former student, he helped produce Bridget Madden's concert, and his relationship with Samantha Harris might best be described as intense. Thomas Atkinson may not seem like a big player on the world's stage, but in this case he has made himself a person of interest.

So, I know content on this blog has been a little sparse this past summer. But I do have a very good excuse: movie making!

Michael Lawrence: The Season of Darkness has been a blast to work on and now I'm proud to announce that the first trailer has been released! Watch it here - and be sure to leave a comment below!

by Steve Hobbs

17-year-old Miri Jones is determined to be a police detective, like her father. When she stumbles upon a mutilated corpse in the woods during her morning run, she's convinced that she's found her first case. But this is no ordinary killing and it soon becomes apparent that not only is Miri in danger, but the entire town of New Hope as well. Plunged into the middle of a war they never knew existed, can Miri and her friends survive?

The first book in a series, Steve Hobb's novel reads like a fun, old-fashioned horror/adventure, a sort of Nancy Drew meets the X-Files. Miri Jones is a likeable protagonist who finds herself squaring off against desperate vampires, but she's not alone in the fight. While her father, Chief Jones, finds himself in an uneasy alliance with federal agents, Miri and her rag-tag team of quippy teens assemble to bring the killers to justice - and maybe save a family member as well. 

Fast-paced and fun, with enough twists and turns to keep you entertained, this is a solid opening for a series. Highly recommended.

Writing is not for the faint of heart. Like distance running, Marine training, obstacle courses, or marathon sessions with your drama friend, it requires stamina, endurance, resolve, and a healthy sense of humor and balance. Here, then, are four things to keep in mind when you start.

1. It's not all buttercups and Mary-Higgins-Clark
It's easy to look at the success stories of Mary Higgins Clark and Stephen King and think, "Man, all I need to do is finish my zombie-end times-love triangle-coming of age-story and I'll be made!" 
Yeah. Sure. Unfortunately for you, half the country is thinking the same thing and the market is glutted. 
Stories of lucky breaks and amazing hidden talent are everywhere, but it's probably best not to bank on it. Your zombie novel rocks, but convincing anyone to read it is another story altogether.

The takeaway: Write and publish only because you like your story and you're already a winner - and if you happen to become an overnight success, that'll be a nice (read: really, really nice) bonus.

2. You will get feedback: all kinds
Announce that you write and you'll get as many different reactions as there are people in the room. While almost all your friends will be enthusiastic (if you find differently, you need a better class of friends), you'll get reactions from starry-eyed comparisons to Hemingway and Harper Lee to barely concealed eye rolls and 'How can you expect to make a living off of that'? 

The takeaway: Keep it all in perspective. You aren't Hemingway (there was only one) and you aren't an idiot. Let the both the criticism and the compliments roll off your back and keep writing.

3. You will have down times
Writing can be tons of fun, especially when you've got a great story and your vision is clear. But there are going to be days when you look back on what you've written and think, 'I thought this was good?' and other days when you can't write anything at all, when you're convinced that you'll never write again.

The takeaway: This is normal. You're a human, not a machine and unless you've got a deadline, you can afford to take a break. Bad days are always followed by better ones, so just ride it out. If you're really stuck, take your work to your editor or a trusted friend and get their opinion. Nine times out of ten, they'll tell you that it's not as bad as you think.

4. Bad reviews
The nature of the business is that writing is done in private, shown in public. No one paints a landscape and then hides it in the closet. But showing your work involves risk and in writing, that risk is most often displayed as a bad review. There are as many different types of readers as there are writers and bad reviews are just part of the process. When you get one, don't panic: analyze. Ask yourself the following questions:

1. Did the reader actually read the story? (Yes, I'm serious - sometimes they just post)
2. Did the reader understand what you were trying to do? (They were looking for Jane Austen and your zombie-end times-love triangle-coming of age is many things, but a sparkling British comedy it is not.)
3. Do they make any salient points about plot, narrative, or grammar? Or is this merely venting? (Occasionally the readers have a point: Guy B really should have gotten the girl, because Guy A was showed stalker/obsessive tendencies that you didn't notice. But this is rare and, anyway, your critique group probably would have warned you.)

If the answer to any or all of these questions is 'No', you can rest easy. This was a case of misunderstanding on their part and your work is still good.

The takeaway: You will get back reviews and some of them will really sting. If they make a good point, learn from it. But in the end, remember why you wrote the story in the first place - whether it was for a friend, to make a point, or just to get it off your mind - and you'll find that the bad review is only a small bump in the road. Just keep trucking.


To sum up, writing is a fantastically fun way to spend time, create worlds, and spread your creative wings, but it does require a certain amount of mental toughness. In the end, you aren't your project - you are complete within yourself, valuable and needed even without the pen in your hand.  So keep writing and have fun.

To further drive the point home, here's some wisdom from Stephen King: "Writing isn't about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it's about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life as well. It's about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy."