Rish Outcast 223: Newfound Fame 2

The story of Ernst Hillerman at his first horror convention continues . . . and the horror becomes a little too real.

To download this cursed file, Right-Click HERE.

To support Rish on Patreon, Left-Click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Newfound Aflame" Moretto.

6/15 & 6/16

6/15

Every Wednesday morning, my buddy Jeff calls me from Germany and we talk about the newest episode of "Strange New Worlds."  He watches "Star Trek" on Mondays, and I watch it on Tuesdays.  And we chat about each excellent show, like friends do, I suppose.  There's a lot wrong with me and my life, but for this, I'm pretty darn grateful.

I arrived at the cabin to find nothing changed from last week (which tells me nobody, not even my brother, had visited over the weekend), but there was evidence of a presence, as there were several large chunks of animal dung around the back door and all along the deck, including a thick puddle of congealing animal pee on the welcome mat.  To my (lack of) surprise, there was a family of woodchucks that came out from under the deck to investigate my presence, and my dog, were they bold, not bothering to run when they saw me, and even welcoming their mid-sized adolescent child out to take a look at the big-nosed human who was trying to sweep away their now-hardened dung chunks.  If my brother were here, oh, they'd be afraid to stick their heads o--

No, scratch that.  If my brother were here, they'd already be dead.  

I watched THE GIVER for Marshal and me to review, and with no internet, I couldn't know how well the movie did and/or if it was well-received (or how close it hewed to the source material).  Welcome back to 1992, kids.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

6/16

I didn't go into how I felt yesterday, shooting at those woodchucks, filled with a strange antipathy for them that rapidly fled when I actually hit one of them.  I felt guilty for hours . . . but today, when I went out on the back porch, I found that the rodents had climbed onto my reading chair during the night and left three fresh black craps on it . . . a taunt if I've ever seen one.  And worse, while I was out shoveling, I saw the one I'd shot yesterday alive and well, scurrying around the woodpile instead of lying dead down in darkness (like I had imagined all yesterday evening).  Again, I wished my brother were here.  He has absolutely no tolerance (much less empathy) for dumb animals . . . perhaps for people either.

I sat down and recorded a story I wrote around 2003 called "Hero Worship" last night, and found it RIDDLED with incomplete punctuation and at least half a dozen typos.  Unfortunately, the file was so old that the only way my laptop could read it was after I'd saved it as a .pdf . . . and that meant I couldn't go in and fix the errors.  Whoopie.  The story itself was quite bad, but served as a pretty vivid picture of what living in Los Angeles was like, including a few details I'd forgotten years ago.  For that reason itself, I'm happy I wrote it.  Maybe somebody else will enjoy it too.

I went out to shovel gravel for a while, just like I did last summer (except I'm in worse shape this year, so I got tired after only two wheelbarrowloads), and while doing so, I thought about a new opening for my ever-forthcoming "Sins of a Sidekick" book.  When I came in, after only three loads, I sat down and jotted down a couple of paragraphs for it.  It didn't exactly get me back into the mindset of the Ben Parks/Lean Rider world, but it's better than nothing.*

Writing or Exercise: Both

*Wouldn't mind having that on my tombstone.

6/12 - 6/14

6/12

Post lost. (I wrote about it on the 20th)

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

6/13

Post lost.

I bought a poster at the Star Wars Celebration, and went to two different craft stores to see if I could get a frame for it.  At Michael's, the frame was $54.99 but they were having a Buy One Get One Free sale on the frames, and at JoAnne's, they had a nice one for $49.99, and a cheaper one with just plastic for $39.99.  I didn't buy any of them because I thought eBay or Amazon might have them cheaper*, but all of it was too much, especially for how much I'd spent for the poster.  I figured it would join the legions of other posters I've bought over the years, that remain undisplayed, plenty still in rolls in the corner of the room.

But then I thought I'd go to the thrift store down the street.  It always has posters and stuff, and while the size I was looking for is rare (it's super long and super thin), I bought a frame that, while too wide, actually seems like a pretty good substitute.  It had a poem in it that had obviously been given to some lady's mom, and dollars to donuts, that mom is now dead.  But I took out the backing, reversed the poem, and put my poster inside it.  It didn't work exactly right (I think I'd need to secure it to the cardboard better), but it's okay for what I wanted.

I had intended to put it up at the cabin, as I vowed last year (to gradually replace John Wayne images with Star Wars ones), but I was afraid to (and the smoke from the fireplace is apt to damage it, right?).  So instead, it sits in the corner, just in a frame rather than a roll.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

6/14

Rest of post lost.

Oh no, the horror of realizing I like the "Ms. Marvel" series more than "Obi-Wan Kenobi."  

Even so, the OWK episode tonight was pretty good.  It's interesting because two weeks ago I was complaining about how Obi-Wan was the weakest Jedi we'd ever seen in any of the movies, weaker even than when Alec Guinness played him and Vader said, "Your powers are weak, old man," but last night I had pretty much no problem with Vader being more powerful by far than we've EVER seen him before . . . but these things are relative, I suppose.*

Writing or Exercise: Writing

*They did have cheaper options, but the shipping actually made the prices worse--which I totally understand, shipping is a be-otch.

**I also said (or thought) that at Star Wars Celebration, Ahsoka Tano in "The Siege of Mandalore" was the most powerful Jedi I had ever seen, including those silly Tartakovsky "Clone Wars" cartoons where they could fly.  Power is relative, isn't it?

My Voice on "Audition" on HorrorAddicts

Once again, my voice is in a story over at HorrorAddicts.net.  Emerian Rich is a tireless podcaster, producing in a month what I manage in about half a year, and she keeps using me to voice male characters in the stories she runs.  This one was called "Audition" and was written by Naching T. Kassa.

It's about a young man trying out to be part of a Rock band, but finding out there's a particular supernatural requirement for joining.  Check it out HERE.

Oh, and Emz always puts how many days remain till Halloween on each post.  And that's something I can really get behind.

I keep thinking of asking her to narrate my story "A Gallon A Day," which is a female POV parody I wrote at the end of 2020, but I haven't dared yet.  It's not like she intimidates me as much as mean old Julie Hoverson does, but I keep chickening out.

6/10 & 6/11

6/10

I drove past a closed business today, and noticed some graffiti on a parking space.  I didn't really catch what it said, but I drove by again, and had to stop.

Somebody had written "Slut One" on a parking spot.  I tried to get my head around that.  Is it a designated spot for someone?  Does a certain person always park there?  Was that certain person parked there when the vandal decided to personalize the spot?  Of course I will never know, but it made enough of an impression on me that I stopped and took a picture.  I don't know why.

I came to the library for an hour or so tonight, and worked VERY LITTLE on "Balms & Sears."  Like I said yesterday, my heart's not been into writing much this month, and I keep meaning to sit down and record the rest of an audiobook, which I always count as writing, since it's basically rewriting.  But tonight, Ryan and I are going to go see JURASSIC WORLD 3, and though I've heard it's not good, I'm hoping I like it anyway.

Writing or Exercise:  Writing

6/11

I stayed up late last night watching old "Columbo" episodes.  They're really good, but I probably should have done some recording instead.  I'll try to do that tonight.

Today was the hottest day of the year (so far).  My cousin hates the heat with the fiery passion of . . . well, an average August day in Phoenix, but even I felt it today and yesterday, as the temperatures soared to nearly a hundred.  Of course, as Harry Truman famously said, "If you can't stand the heat, well, roll around on the ground until the fire's out, for God's sake."

Writing or Exercise:  Writing

Marshal and I Review THE ADAM PROJECT

Do you have Netflix?  Did you see Ryan Reynold's newest flick, THE ADAM PROJECT?  Well, so did Marshal Latham and I.  And if you're interested in hearing me complain about the (perfectly-cromulent) movie for an hour, check out THIS LINK over at the Outfield Excursions podcast at the Journey Into... page.

Blog 6/6 to 6/9

6/6

I'm going to try to get some writing done on "Balms & Sears," the first I've managed since the Star Wars Celebration.  Tonight, Marshal and I are finally going to sit down to record an episode or two about our trip (my cough is pretty much gone, but I still had to stop and catch my breath when I went running last night).

Writing or Exercise:  Writing

6/7

We watched the latest episode of "Star Trek: Strange New Worlds," and again, an excellent episode.  I don't know how they managed it--except for the Original Series, no "Trek" has had this great a first season, and so consistent.  It's not really fair to watch "Obi-Wan Kenobi" afterward, since that show is so thoroughly average.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

6/8

Here I am, back at the cabin already.  You'd think I'd have everything figured out by now.

I've seen so many deer today, probably because there aren't so many people around as there were Saturday.  At one point, I was watching the family of deer next door when I saw movement low to the ground.  I thought it was another rock chuck, but it was bigger and flatter.  It was a badger.  And as I watched it moving, a second, smaller badger came up to meet it.  Well, I wasn't sure what to do, but my brother's rifle sits on the cupboard, and I got it down, went outside . . . and they were gone.  The deer continued to sit around there, dumbly uninterested, but the badgers had either heard me, smelled me, or sensed me, and went to ground.  I waited for them to return, but they never did.  Could I have shot one, and actually killed it, from that distance?  We will never know.

I picked up the DVD of 1954's OKLAHOMA!, and watched it here, instead of doing something productive.  I just didn't want to reach my deathbed and have my last words be "I wish I'd watched more Rodgers & Hammerstein."  Like so many elderly folks reportedly say.

There were parts of the film that were totally magical, and some fun songs, but man, the dancing.  There was an extended dance sequence where the main two characters were replaced by stunt dancers that made me long for the sweet embrace of the grave. 

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

6/9

I really ought to write, but man, I just can't bring myself to do it.  Imagine a Bizarro Universe where going jogging or jumping rope is more appealing to me than writing.  But that's where we are.*

I did do one productive thing this morni--shoot, it's afternoon now, how did that happen?--ng: I selected a five minute sample from the audiobook of "Hatchling" to send to Audible, which means the recording is completely finished (though I may have to re-do the closing credits, if I said 2021 instead of '22 on there [has it been that long I've been working on it?], and then I'll be done).  Of course, I realized that the voice of Rick is completely different at the start of the audiobook from where it is at the end, and that tempts me to sit down and re-do all those lines so they match, but eff it, that could go on forever (I mentioned recently listening to the audio of "Newfound Fame" and thinking I could add a new scene and redo one section, where there's a digitally-inserted Brown Depths Monster and Alonzo Moss shoots first and misses at point blank range, but I didn't do it).

I interrupted my time-wasting when I heard a sound in the other room, and came out to find . . . the front door was wide open.  My guess is a gust of wind blew it open, but still, the imagination revs up.  Imagine if that happened in the middle of the night.

Even though I watched it a full 24 hours ago, that "The Farmer & the Cowman Should Be Friends" keeps echoing in my head, over and over again.  Yesterday, I was thinking I'd check out more Oscars & Hammerstein movies from the library . . . but now I sort of wish I'd never watched it at all.

I went for a pretty good hike at the cabin in the afternoon because I was tired of sitting around inside, and I hadn't been hiking much this year.  I walked down the hill in search of the frogsong you can hear as the shadows lengthen each day.  It's only Thursday, so there were no other people around (I heard somebody working construction in the distance, but didn't see anyone), and I walked through people's yards trying to find a path down to a trio of ponds that are surrounded by brush, where I could hear the frogs singing.  Of course, when I got there, I couldn't see them, and they'd shut up if I got very close.  I saw one frog hopping through the bushes, but when I put down my backpack to try and catch it, it was gone.

Hiking back up the hill was slower going than going down, and it struck me as oddly lonely for some reason.  Eventually, I got back to the cabin and worked on audio editing until I was no longer hot.

Even though I had hiked during the day, I still chose to go on a run around ten at night.  I was hungry, and thought I could reward myself with some orange chicken, but ONLY if I exercised, so I did the whole darn run, and found myself abnormally sweaty when I made it back. 

I did eventually sit down and write the first few paragraphs of a story I'd come up with about a dozen years ago, where a man and woman are forced to raise an alien child as their own (I even drew a couple of sketches of what the creature was going to look like), but I threw those plans away when I saw MAN OF STEEL.  But here we are, all these years later, and I thought I'd give it a try, since I'd been thinking about the opening since Lindsay Lohan was considered talented.  Maybe I can make something of it.***

Writing or Exercise: Both

*I promised Marshal I would write a story with a positive portrayal of a step-parent relationship this year, and I keep kicking around an idea of a stepdad taking his son out to look at a college, or to give him the talk about sexual intercourse and how Wang Chung is the most underrated band of the Eighties, or maybe to give him his first driving lesson . . . and then something happens, but I can't think of what that something would be, and I'd rather listen to the audio commentary of OKLAHOMA! than to figure that out (or worse, put in the second disc and listen to the SECOND commentary, having finished the first one).

**That movie was lousy enough I should've thrown all my plans away afterward, but it was some plotpoint or some line of dialogue that Zod had that made me think, "Damn, that was what my story was going to be about.  Why didn't I write it when I had the chance?"

***Spoiler: Nope, I won't.

Rish Outcast 222: Newfound Fame 1

Are you a Horror fan?  A TRUE Horror fan?

Uncle Rish is proud to present the first section of "Newfound Fame," the tale of Ernst Hillerman, who once played The Brown Depths Monster, so, so long ago.

If you care to download the show, Right-Click HERE.

If you care to help Rish on Patreon, Left-Click HERE.

If you care, the logo was by Gino "Newfound Maim" Moretto.

Blog 6/3 - 6/5

6/3

I had to do the lines for four characters (all thieves) in a story called "Haus" this weekend.  I read through their descriptions, and decided to "cast" them in my head.  So, I did them as Liam Neeson, Jason Statham, Bill Paxton, and that skinny kid from DUNE.  Of course, they'll sound nothing like those actors, but it helped me keep the lines straight as they argued among themselves.

I had a little time on my hands, so I decided to just go to the cabin, even though it wasn't a Wednesday. 

I made it to the cabin with no issues, and when I reached the dirt road that my brother warned would be too muddy access last week, it was dry.  There was one patch of about eight inches of mud that I drove through, but there was nothing to worry about.  When I pulled up, I saw the mother deer and her two fawns from last year, right there on the back hill where I'd watched them grow up, and they are getting close to the same size.  The fawns are big and ungainly and pretty unattractive, which I suppose makes them the equivalent of teens at that awkward age (good luck, boys, some of us never outgrow that stage).

To my horror, about an hour before sunset, I heard a familiar voice outside: the four year old childe.  I stood up, and discovered that my brother-in-law had arrived, with three boys, and were spending the weekend.  THAT'S why I come up on Wednesdays, come to think of it.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

6/4

I did a lot of audio editing today (part of it was, every time the kids and my brother went outside, I'd start editing podcasts again, like I was getting away with something, and once they were all gone, I jumped on it like a bad habit), and finally finished the audiobook for "Hatchling," which was a super long time in coming.  And that means I can start work on the next lengthy audio project (first up is "But Now I'm Found," because I set that as a goal for June, but after that, I'll probably record "Winter Break" or the twin story or possibly "The Bad Man In Room 2," since that one could be an Outcast episode), since I'll need plenty of material to while away the hours when I'm here.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

6/5

I stayed at the cabin after my family left, even though I shouldn't have.  My brother is much like my father was, always finding things to fix, things that need doing, never sitting still long enough to get fat or old.

I took a little time to work on my blog, but I must've forgotten to save it, because there was nothing for the fifth, and my entry for the fourth ended in mid-sentence.  It bothers me to have wasted my time like that, over and over and over again, but I tend not to learn from my mistakes.*

Something pretty astounding about my two days at the cabin is that I've probably written only a dozen words.  These things go in cycles, I get that, and after doing my level best in May, June seems to be a month where I try to get in a bit better shape, writing be damned.  Or darned, at least.

Writing or Exercise: Both

*Of course, I just realized that there are more blog posts in the past (ie, before my death) than there are in the future.  Gulp.

Blog 6/2

The new month has begun, and I need to get back to the regular grind.  Since I didn't go to the cabin today, I spent my free time audio editing, and recording my Patreon address, but darned if the time didn't slip away as fast as it could (I didn't even fall asleep this time).

One of my goals for the month of June is to come up with a good idea for a short story.  That is something that happens on its own, but not with predictable regularity.  My brother is going to the cabin to chop down trees on Saturday, so I think I'll go with him and try to be inspired by something that I see or hear.  You never know.

I got out a story I wrote in February and did a second pass on it, calling it "Olivia Rewinds," which I'm pretty sure is not a good title, but my first idea, "Olivia Unwinds." didn't make narrative sense.  I'll keep thinking.

The other day, I got a "helpful" question from an eBay user asking me why I had a piece from a Build-A-Figure for such a high price.  Seriously, that piece goes for what the other five pieces go for put together.*  The user asked me how I could live with myself listing it for that high (he didn't technically call me the S-word, but oh, it was there, between the lines), and warned me that I'd never sell it for that price.  He'd give me fifteen, the helpful, generous stranger.

Well, today, it sold for fifty.  Just saying.

Alright, I finished a second pass of my story from February, and tried to come up with a good title for it.  I was leaning toward "Olivia's Rewinds," or "Olivia Backs Up," but once I'd closed the file and started for home, I thought I'd call it "Olivia Redux."  Not sure I understand that term correctly, but I like the sound of it.  If I wake up really ambitious one of these days, I'll record it and do an episode of the podcast for it.  Gotta warn you, though, the title's the best thing about it.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

*There is often one such BAF piece, which eludes collectors (such as the hands of The Blob, the head of Apocalypse, the Right Arm of The Rhino, the left leg of Abomination, or the backbone of Rish Outfield) because it came with a figure nobody wanted, or more rarely, the only figure anybody wanted.  I remember people selling the complete Sentinel Build-A-Figure a decade back for a hundred dollars, or just the head and chest piece for ninety dollars (I think I sold my last one for exactly that price).

Blog 6/1

I heard a song playing on the radio as I pulled in front of the library just now that went, "And if I can't be close to you, I'll settle for the ghost of you."  I thought it would make for a pretty good basis for a short story.

Of course, that was before I Googled who sang it.*

Seven or eight months back, Marshal Latham commented that he would like to hear me read Stephen King's "Gramma," a short story from (I think) 1984.  And the last time I was at the cabin, I recorded it.  Today, I had planned on returning to the cabin, and I thought it would be cool if I recorded an episode to go with it.

But it rained the whole weekend, and got down to the forties here (which meant it was in the twenties there, and/or snowing), and my brother thought the cabin road would be muddy and fairly impassable.  So, I decided not to go down, but met my cousin for lunch, went to the store, and then drove back home.  Later on, though, when the temperature rose to the mid-seventies, I thought, Well, that makes it the mid-fifties at the cabin, so surely the snow would melt and the mud would . . . what, harden?

I asked my mom if I should take my car or borrow my dad's truck, and she practically forbade me to go, returning me in a sentence or two to about thirteen years old, adding, "But of course, you can do what you want, if you won't listen to me."

So, instead of driving down there, I opened my recording files of "Gramma" from last November, and started editing them.  And the story was just so good that I wished that I'd been a grownup and gone down to the cabin anyway, so I could record an episode for it and ask the musical question, "Could I ever write a story as good as this one?"

And it made me wish that I wrote all the time, way more than I do, kind of like The Alien does, and I could just challenge myself to write a story inspired by "Gramma," in much the same way King was apparently trying to write a story inspired by the HP Lovecraft mythos when he penned "Gramma."

But instead, I came to the library, and will do what I can with the hour before it closes, working on "Balms & Sears" again, creeping lethargically toward its end.

Writing or Exercise:  Writing

*I assumed it would be BTS or the Jonas Brothers or Blackpopcicle or something, not suspecting the truth would be far darker: Justin Effing Beiber.