Posts filed under ‘READER’S OPPORTUNITIES’
This story was published by Necrology Shorts in January 2010.
THE HORROR AT LAKE HARMONY
The story began: there is a legend among the local natives of a group of men they called The Ancients. The Ancients were given this name because, when the first Lenape natives entered the land that would one day become Pennsylvania, The Ancients already inhabited one of the many caves in the area. No one knew their tribe or where they came from and The Ancients offered no information. They were wise old men possessing strange powers. There were four, all men.
The natives avoided their company out of fear and respect. They observed that The Ancients would age considerably over a four-year course. They noticed another curious aspect of their appearance: as they aged their eyes would redden. The Ancients’ eyes reddened to a point at which they would glow. As the visage of their age increased so, did the glow of their eyes, when a curious event would occur. Four members of the Lenape tribe would go missing. Coincidentally, The Ancients, suddenly shed the mantle of approaching death; their faces now appeared almost youthful.
May 25, 2024 at 4:26 pm
This story was published by Necrology Shorts in January 2010.
THE HORROR AT LAKE HARMONY
The story began: there is a legend among the local natives of a group of men they called The Ancients. The Ancients were given this name because, when the first Lenape natives entered the land that would one day become Pennsylvania, The Ancients already inhabited one of the many caves in the area. No one knew their tribe or where they came from, and The Ancients offered no information. They were wise old men possessing strange powers. There were four, all men.
The natives avoided their company out of fear and respect. They observed that The Ancients would age considerably over a four-year course. They noticed another curious aspect of their appearance: as they aged their eyes would redden. The Ancients’ eyes reddened to a point at which they would glow. As the visage of their age increased so, did the glow of their eyes, when a curious event would occur. Four members of the Lenape tribe would go missing. Coincidentally, The Ancients, suddenly shed the mantle of approaching death; their faces now appeared almost youthful.
May 24, 2024 at 2:50 pm
This story was published by Necrology Shorts in January 2010.
THE HORROR AT LAKE HARMONY
It began with an innocent trip to Baldwin’s Book Barn, a store which sold old and rare books. Baldwin’s was located in a rambling five-story barn. Set in the bucolic Pennsylvania countryside, it was my favorite haunt. I was in love with books, the older the better. I enjoyed breathing in the smell of old print and paper and wondered at the people who once owned these old tomes. My favorite time to visit was on a spring night when the customers were few. The store manager opened the barn doors to the surrounding fields, creating a natural setting for the store’s many books stacked in old orange crates. One pleasant spring night I parked in the gravel parking lot. I made my way up the rickety stairs, being sure to bend low so I wouldn’t tear my scalp on the low doorframes.
On the second floor, I walked past a door that was always locked, the door to the rare book room. A faint glow emanating from beneath the door had caught my attention, and then it was gone. My eyes traveled to the edge of the door. It was slightly ajar, a fact that had escaped my attention until that glow caught my eye. I entered and found beautiful leather bound volumes with gold leaf. I wandered among the shelves in the room filled with books I could never afford.
Off in a corner I noticed a slim volume on a table. The cover was leather with black letters; ‘Folklore of Pennsylvania and the Surrounding Area’. I knew some of the local myths, stories that made the tabloids or the local news when they had space to fill, such as the Jersey Devil rumored to inhabit the Pine Barrens of Southern New Jersey. But this book appeared to be a serious and ancient text. With mounting curiosity I confronted the volume. A ribbon, marking a site of interest, peeked from the bottom of the book and upon being opened, the book yielded naturally to theses pages. With a mixture of awe and curiosity, I inspected the story of the Legend of the Ancients. I sat in a round-backed chair, and with curiosity, soon became lost in the book.
May 23, 2024 at 11:59 am
This story was published by Necrology Shorts in January 2010.
THE HORROR AT LAKE HARMONY
It was a quiet, lovely June night. The light of a crescent moon walked across the tranquil surface of the lake as waves lapped its shore. The air was filled with the smoke of campfires reaching skyward, as the smoke of many ancient fires did so many years ago. I sat quietly at this place where an unspeakable evil might exist. It was an evil that I stumbled upon. Or, maybe I was meant to confront the horror on this peaceful night. My thoughts led to the ultimate question. What if evil really exists as a tangible entity, able to be touched and looked in the eye?
Sitting on a picnic bench in camp site 34, with apprehension, I looked toward the lake for any sign of a glow. My wife, my daughters and I have camped here in the past. We have a particular fondness for campsite 34, a tree shaded campsite on the shore of the park lake. Although the tent site was somewhat small and gravelly, we endured the hard ground to enjoy the lake view.
But behind the joy was now a looming fear.
.
May 22, 2024 at 7:19 pm
WARNING
This story contains an ‘F Bomb’ which, in today’s publications, is not a rare occurrence. If you read The New Yorker, among other publications, you are aware of this. Also, sensitive people may find the theme of this story disturbing.
HAVEN OF HORROR
“How you doin’? the old man asked. “Need some gas?”
Mark answered, “Yes,” and didn’t bother to say what type for obviously there was only one type available.
The man began to pump, and Mark wondered about the quality of the product, but he was low and had no choice.
His family had also been complaining about hunger for some time, so Mark asked the attendant, “Any place to eat around here?”
The old man scratched his chin and said, “No restaurants, but there is a family and they do offer meals.” Mark got directions which led the family to a rustic-looking house which wasn’t a surprise for the entire town appeared rustic.
The family rang the doorbell and was greeted by a very pleasant woman. Yet there was something about her putting Mark off. But his family was hungry.
Mark said, “The gas station attendant said that you might be able to provide us a meal. We are more than willing to pay and pay we should.”
The woman said, “Of course I can feed you,” and her mind added, And of course you will pay. But before you eat, we have a local wine we offer to tourists with the hope they like it and tell their friends. Let me give you each a sample. I guess your boy and two girls are not old enough to drink, but a taste won’t hurt them.”
The woman poured five glasses of wine, and, as they drank, the look on the faces of the family showed enjoyment.
The End
May 19, 2024 at 1:07 pm
HAVEN OF HORROR
WARNING
This story contains an ‘F Bomb’ which, in today’s publications, is not a rare occurrence. If you read The New Yorker, among other publications, you are aware of this. Also, sensitive people may find the theme of this story disturbing.
They wondered for an explanation on the source of this ghastly conversion. No one could mine an answer. There were legends of drawings found in the cave, of beings beyond imagination. Monsters with no place in nature. From this knowledge they speculated that beyond this horrible transformation a third journey to, yet another transformation existed. But no one could be certain of the changes awaiting the morphed. Before they managed to isolate those transformed some of the residents journeyed deeper into the cave and thought they heard distant waves crashing on some unknown shore. What did the presence of this unknown ocean mean to those transformed? Could these transformed humans be destined for another phase dependent on the ocean? And what did that turn their friends and relatives into. Were there cities on the ocean floor awaiting new residents? As if all this wasn’t enough to challenge reality, a horrible event took place. The transformed began attacking the still normal residents. Devouring them. The number of mutants was not great and when their threat was realized, it was no problem to repel them to the entrance of the cave. And while a force of guards stood by, a small structure was built above the entrance with no windows and a solitary door. The residents of the town were now aware of the horror that awaited them and did not want to cut off a place where they might survive.
May 14, 2024 at 12:33 pm
WARNING
This story contains an ‘F Bomb’ which, in today’s publications, is not a rare occurrence.
If you read The New Yorker, among other publications, you are aware of this.
Also, sensitive people may find the theme of this story disturbing.
HAVEN OF HORROR
Schuylkill Haven, a small town not appearing on any maps, was of little value to visitors who happened upon it. In fact, shunned visitors until they were needed. When this occurred, the residents revealed the heavily rutted road to the town visible and waited for guests. Just as the town was not on maps, so was the road. The entrance to the road was usually heavily concealed for the residents liked, needed their privacy. The road to the town was now uncovered and the people of the haven waited.
The town of Schuylkill Haven came into existence most unnaturally centuries ago. From a small hill far from any inhabitants, late in the 1600’s the town was born.
One day there was movement of the earth on the side of the hill. The bottom of the hill began to push outward forming a cavity which grew into a cave. The first residents of the town began to arrive from within.
Men, women, and children, all naked, streamed out of the newly formed fissure studied the surroundings. At first the light nearly blinded them, but eventually they adjusted to the harsh glow of daylight.
The new arrivals were helpless in this new world. With no food or lodging the were certainly doomed. Coming to their rescue was a wondering tribe of native Americans. With compassion for these new arrivals, they shared food with them, taught them how to plant crops, hunt, construct shelters and make clothing. Eventually explores happened upon the town and were amazed to find white men in such a remote location. With the explorers came more modern methods of agriculture and more substantial lodging. Slowly a town took shape and the residents thrived. But there was a disturbing knowledge revealed to the residents. The elders began to have a greenish tint to their skin and took on strange physical characteristics. Their heads became misshaped and enlarged with mouths wide and menacing. The residents knew they had a secret meant to be kept and concealed these morphed humans.
May 13, 2024 at 6:53 pm
I’ll be posting short stories for a while again. The story I’m posting next has not been published. It will appear in seven parts.
WARNING
This story contains an ‘F Bomb’ which, in today’s publications, is not a rare occurrence. If you read The New Yorker, among other publications, you are aware of this. Also, sensitive people may find the theme of this story disturbing.
HAVEN OF HORROR
Jeff and Karen were recently married. Not much later Jeff accepted a better job than he had with more pay. They needed to move. With great anticipation they now were on a road trip to explore the area which would be their new home. Jeff loved wandering down roads he had never traveled, and for him this trip was a treat. A new area to be visited ripe for exploration.
As they drove along, not really sure where they were, Karen said, “I’m tired and hungry. Let’s stop at the next town for some rest and food.” They had been on the road for several days driving from California to Pennsylvania. Today, they had been driving for ten hours and they both needed rest and food.
Jeff spied what looked like a seldom used road, “Let’s go down that road. It must lead to somewhere.”
Karen looked at him as if to say, ‘Give me a break’ for it looked like it would lead to nowhere. The newness of marriage had not yet dissolved, but it was getting there.
Karen glanced at the maps they had brought along, “Jeff, this road is not on the map!”
Jeff’s response was, “Great.” Karen just shook her head. And off they went down an unmapped road hoping to find food and perhaps lodging for the night as the sky was steadily darkening the landscape. He looked at Karen and wondered if the stop would lead to ‘cuddling’ – and perhaps more. He wondered how long those episodes would last. He had heard stories.
With Karen constantly complaining about how tired and hungry she was, they approached a small town. Jeff was hungry too, and ready for some nighttime activity. As they entered the town it was as if they were visiting a page out of history. There was not a modern structure. It was like something of a lot for filming an old movie. There was a gas station with only one pump. An old guy in a chair was leaning against the building.
The old man waved and said, “Hi. Don’t see many strangers here.”
The town was Schuylkill Haven.
May 12, 2024 at 11:54 am
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before but I run two writers groups.
One meets every Thursday (strange for a group) at the Paoli Library in
Pennsylvania from 12:30-2:30. The group has been in existence for about
three years.
One of the writers is Emmet Robinson. He is a very talented writer and
entertainer in coffee houses with his guitar and vocals.
Here is a newsletter he produces which I fee is worth a read.
He also runs a studio for voice overs and recording books.
AUDIBILITIES
By Emmet Robinson King Street Recording Company
Professional Audio Services for Any Purpose You Can Think Of
Video and Photo Too!
610-647-4341
http://www.kingstreetrecording.com kingstreetrecord@aol.com
Blog: http://www.emmetrobinson.com/wp/
Celebrating Fifty-one Years in Business!
Volume 72, Summer, 2019
Small Body, Big Voice
The tiny mandolin is yet one more descendant of the lute family, with ancestors dating back to Mesopotamia three thousand years ago. Although roughly the size as a ukulele, the modern mandolin has a few interesting differences:
• For each single string on the ukulele, the mandolin has two, tuned in unison.
• Instead of gut or nylon, the mandolin is strung with steel.
• The abrasive nature of the steel strings requires the use of a pick rather than the fingers.
• The tuning is very different from that of the uke – more like that of the violin and viola. As a result, different chord formations are used.
Like most other stringed instruments, the mandolin is found in a variety of shapes and sizes.
• The body of the Neapolitan or round-backed mandolin is quite deep, and shaped something like a gourd. Difficult to play while standing, it’s generally held on the lap of a seated musician.
• The carved-top or arch-top version is much shallower, with a gently curved top and back. A simple shoulder strap allows this version to be played while standing.
• Also playable standing, the flat-backed mandolin is made from thin sheets of wood, with internal bracing added for strength. Its construction is similar to that of the guitar.
Mandolin soundboards – the fronts or tops of the instruments – may vary widely. As there must be an opening to allow the music to escape, some sound holes may be round or oval in shape. Others take their design from the violin which has two sound holes, each shaped like a stylized letter S.
While the development of this instrument can be traced over much of the world, the modern design appears to have been developed by the Viniccia family of Naples. The raised, extended fingerboard and geared tuning pegs were accredited to Pasquale Vinaccia in the late 1800s.
The versatile mandolin, and its relatives, has been used over an extraordinary range of music. There have been mandolin orchestras dedicated to the performance of classical music. Chris Thile plays superb mandolin solos of complex Bach compositions. Much of the music I’m personally familiar with is in the related fields of country and bluegrass. Bill Monroe, known as the father of bluegrass music, played a Gibson.
A highly versatile instrument, the high, crisp tone of the mandolin allows it to project well, even without the aid of a microphone.
IN THE STUDIO
VOICES
In producing musical recordings since 1967, I’ve heard a lot of singers. Many were quite good. Just recently, however, I was delighted to work with a young professional new to the area who is quite extraordinary and needs to present herself to agents with a current demo.
Professionally trained, with Broadway experience, Kelly Briscoe has every quality I admire in a singer. With accurate intonation and perfect vibrato, she presents wonderful warmth of tone – even at the top of her extensive range. As a self-described “Belter,” when emphasis is
needed, she has power to spare. Best of all, she lends genuine emotion to the lyrics – she means every word she sings!
As she was able to provide her own pre-recorded music tracks in a useful format, we began by importing them to the recording system in the control room.
Then, in the studio, she put on headphones while we adjusted recording levels and the volume in her headphones.
With the experience of many hundreds of live performances behind her, she was easily able to begin with minimal warm-up.
Her first song had an interesting history. Written in 1920 for a French musical revue, “Mon Homme” was eventually translated into English under the title, “My Man,” and performed by Fanny Brice in the 1938 Ziegfield Follies. Ms. Brice’s recording eventually earned a Grammy. Many major vocalists have produced their own interpretations of this classic ballad since then, but my absolute favorite is Kelly’s version recorded here.
Two more tunes were recorded in quick succession with revisions recorded on parallel tracks and carefully blended in. The result was an audio CD and three mp3 files that should attract the attention of any intelligent talent representative. Watch out world, here she comes!
It’s a Wrap!
After several months of extensive recording and editing, the audio version of Pax Tandon’s new book,Mindfulness Matters, now appears to be complete. In listening to her warm voice, you’ll have the sensation that she’s speaking directly to you.
All that remains now is duplication and packaging of the eight-disk series. For details, contact Schiffer Publishing at 610-593-9292.
Note: The printed version is currently available on Amazon, and is well worth the small investment. Pax simply makes the point that a positive view leads to more positive experiences and a fuller, richer life.
The Artist’s Voice
A Philadelphia artist brought in a PowerPoint presentation needing narration to accompany her powerful original images. Rather than use a professional narrator, she chose to lend her own voice to the production and did very well. Working from her original script, she spoke softly, quietly, but with sincerity and heartfelt emotion. In a world of so many pleasantly glib voices, she was a refreshing change of pace.
Interesting…
All of the voices I’ve recorded this year have been those of women. Where are the guys?
FROM THE ATTIC
Grit and Determination
In processing a recorded biography, I heard the inspiring story of a woman who managed to rise to success from very humble beginnings.
Born in Pittsburgh in the 1920s, the African-American daughter of a steel worker and a domestic, she lived with her family in a two-room third floor apartment where the beds were shared and the building’s single bathroom was shared with other tenants.
Developing a love for reading at an early age, and inspired by a sister, she did well in school and decided to attend Tuskegee College in Alabama.
Although both her neighborhood and her schools had been ethnically mixed, her bus trip to the South was a very different experience. The long trip required many transfers from one bus to another and, beginning in Wheeling, West Virginia, the buses were rigidly segregated with black passengers often ushered off to make room for whites.
On arrival at Tuskegee, she found herself without sufficient funds for enrollment and had to call on a brother for help.
At last, with grit and determination, she completed her courses and graduated in 1948 with a degree in commercial dietetics.
Considering the challenges she faced, earning her degree was an astounding achievement. Every time I think my life is too difficult, I’ll think of her and her triumph over adversity!
A New Record
Some restoration projects are more complex than others and require the creation of many individual sound files. The previous record of sixty-four, set by a local university, has just been broken by an overseas client with an order for more than 120! Can you beat that?
Family Reunion
The tape I received wasn’t playable due to a missing pressure pad in the cassette shell. So, I carefully opened the shell and transferred the tape to a new one. With that out of the way, I could then digitize an entertaining recording of a family reunion held in New York in 1960.
The client provided text, so the CD labels were easy to produce.
More interesting was the photo for the CD covers. At first glance, it seemed fine. On closer inspection, it was clear that the upper left hand portion of the photo had somehow been tapered off. Well, now, we can’t have that!
Using appropriate software, it was possible to re-create what was missing. As there are no single buttons to push for this kind of photo restoration, it was done with hundreds of tiny strokes with the equivalent of tiny digital paintbrushes. As all of this could be done within 30 minutes, it fell under the standard rate for custom CD covers of $24.95 for processing, plus $2.75 for each cover printed. The restoration allowed including the entire photo, not just most of it.
A Lucky Save
Although I normally retain digital audio files for only a year, some instinct borne of decades of experience leads me to save some of them even longer. A recent request for a single copy of a piano recording proved that to be a useful practice. With the file still in the system, no processing was required and the extra copy was ready in just minutes!
Word Gets Around
Because the menu of services available here is diversified far beyond the norm, happy clients tell their friends and word gets around. This results in inquiries and orders from beyond the immediate neighborhood. For example…
• A call from Oklahoma City developed into an interesting restoration project. An old tape of a musical family get-together had gotten mangled in the recorder and needed repair. In the absence of a suitable local provider, a search of the Internet led to the tape arriving here.
Opening the cassette shell, I found the damaged portion of tape to be quite short – only two or three seconds of music would be lost.
Using a precision splicing block and special adhesive tabs, the damaged portion was carefully removed and the remaining ends joined.
The repaired tape was then reinstalled in the cassette shell, tested, digitized and transferred to disk. Once all was processing was completed, two CDs and the original tape were sent to the client by certified mail.
HINT: After playing a cassette tape, wind it completely to one end or the other. This will prevent a loop of loose tape being caught in the machine and damaged.
• A caller in North Carolina provided a challenge in the form of a poor quality video file of what appeared to be a talent show. The file was made from an original source, which had then been discarded. Somewhere in the middle of the video was a five-minute segment needing improvement.
Since the file I received would not import directly to any useful application, I resorted to trickery and deceit to fool the computer into accepting the file anyway. The requested improvement proved to be possible and, along the way, I had an interesting learning experience.
• From a client in Colorado I received a VHS tape of an original school performance of The Sound of Music for transfer to disk.
•A client who makes his home on the island of Maui keeps rummaging through his garage and finding more tapes of his original concerts. The two newest were recorded in Grand Rapids, Michigan and Panama City, Panama respectively. I wonder what he’ll find next?
NOTE: For safe delivery in sending original recordings here, please send by Certified Mail with a return receipt request.
June 26, 2019 at 5:51 pm
I thought I would pass along a link to the Cemetery Moon website.
My story is in issue 14. I would like you to read it, but more importantly, I would like you to support the small presses printing words sometimes lost in the wilderness.
http://www.fortresspublishinginc.com/index_files/cm.html
January 30, 2018 at 11:07 pm
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