Not A Last Christmas, But "The Last Christmas"

So, here's the holiday story I wrote last year, "The Last Christmas," available for you to buy or give a bad review to . . . or preferably both.

Another great cover by Big Anklevich.

It tells of Jason Baumgarten, who discovers a present outside his apartment door, one without a name or return label on it.  Inside is a strange object and a note with a single word . . . "remember."  And remember he will.  

It's pretty good . . . high praise, coming from me.  You can check it out HERE . . . if you dare.

Oh, because it's the holidays, let me share with you the other cover Big made for me.  It's very similar (though it has fewer legs), but I thought you might be interested in seeing it.

A much better cover for the story than the story itself . . . but isn't that often the case?

"On Your Side" Is A New Lara Demming Story (sort of)

I'm doing my best to get publishing again.  In fact, I ought to crank-start my microphone and record another story right now (instead of blogging, I mean).  But first, let me mention that I put out another Lara and the Witch story, this one called "On Your Side."

I told Big I wanted the text to look like it had been carved in there, and holy Shenk, he pulled it off!

This story is only significant in that it introduces two characters that show up later, and establishes that Holcomb owes another witch, Calpernia Shenk, a favor.*  Other than that, it's just a little Mother's Day piece I wrote to get myself in the Lara & The Witch mindset.  And it worked.

As for whether the story itself is any good, I suppose the only way to find out is to go HERE and, you know, find out.

*One that will be called in a year later, in a story I wrote immediately after this one.

Rish Outcast 316: Door Number Three 2

 ...and the story continues. Here I present the 2025 portion of the story "Door Number Three," written after considering the original ending unsatisfying/unsatisfactory.

Afterward, I'm including the original second half of the first episode, where I talk about what I would do differently if I wrote the tale now (ultimately redundant, since I went ahead and did it). Sorry(ish).

If you wish to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you wish to support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Door Number Pee" Moretto.

My Voice In Journey Into's "Daydream"

You remember that story I wrote about the man who meets the dog-faced boy at a secret circus? Well, it was one of the finalists of Marshal Latham's diabolical Journey Into Journey contest, and now, if you like, you can check out the other winning story, "Daydream," by R.C. Anderson.

Now, I haven't read the whole story yet, so I can't say how good (or great) it is. But Marshal asked me if I would perform one of the characters, as Bria Burton narrates all the rest.

I voice King Eric, an older man who is dying in a world that he designed. And it was enough of a challenge that I had to try to come up with a voice for this guy, then try to make it consistent when he is emotional, scared, weakening . . . and singing a song. I had the advantage of getting a bit sick and going ahead and recording before I'd recovered 100%. 

Did I succeed? Does it just sound like my regular voice? And more importantly, will you even notice? Find out HERE.

The Scariest Book

You sometimes see weirdness in the public library--for example, a dude just walked by with the exact same haircut Randy Quaid had in that Farrelly Brothers movie KINGPIN.  And that reminded me of something I had meant to post the other night.

This is a dumb story, but I like it when I have something for my blog, even a dumb thing like this.  I was closing on Friday, the librarians had gone home, and one of the last things I do is walk through the library to check that the emergency door is secured (it has an alarm on it, so I don't imagine it ever isn't locked).

Do you see what I see?

And on this night, I was on my way through when I spied--or thought I spied--someone looking at me from one of the aisles.  My blood went cold as I stopped in my tracks and looked over again . . . and yes, there was a guy standing behind the book trolly, looking my way.

I took a step in that direction, and of course, it was just Harlan Coben, up to his old tricks.  One of his books had been placed there in such a way that, well, see for yourself.

As I said, it was no big thing.  But I had been warned that Coben was a vindictive man, and then I went and said that the two books I read by him had the exact same plot.  

Is it too late to apologize?

Rish Outcast 315: Door Number Three 1

Rish shares a story from many years ago about a babysitter that discovers a new door in the hallway. It was meant to be a single episode, way back in March or April . . . but then it mutated.

Just like your sister-in-law.

Remember, you can download the file by Right-Clicking HERE.

Don't forget, you can support my Patreon by clicking HERE.

Logo by Gino "Dork Number Three" Moretto.

An Exercise In Numbers

I know I just posted my Exercise chart for the year a month ago, but I guess I had to get on here and boast about how I did in the month of November, at least as far as jogging goes.

This represents how I've done so far, and if you look at November, I exceeded my goal of 25 days by four, meaning there was only a single day in the whole month that I didn't go on my little run.  That's rather remarkable, and it was partly due to realizing that I was on a streak and didn't want to break it.

Plus, if you look at my goal for the year, I have already exceeded it, which seems like something a high-functioning person would do, not somebody like me.  Anyway, I just wanted to post it here before I failed to replicate it in December.

Happy Turkey Day, Everybody!

There's plenty to go around.

Rish Tries To Mine His Manners

I know I said the last time would be the last time, and the time before that (Never again, is what you swore, the time before), but I ended up doing another narration for the Tales To Terrify podcast. Seth Williams, the editor, asked me to read another story, and as literally no other podcast wants me to do them anymore, I accepted, and even followed the inane directions I was criticized for ignoring the last two times.

But don't worry, I doubt they'll ask me to do it again.

This time, the story was "What's Mine Is Yours, What's Yours Is Mined" by L.T. Williams. It's a dreamlike--almost nonsensical--short tale of the owner of an English coal mine who discovers the world and people around him changing into some kind of bleak industrial hellscape. It's the kind of morality play you used to see on "The Twilight Zone," even though I don't quite understand it. But that's okay--I'm not an audiobook narrator, but I do play one on TV.

Check it out HERE.

Podcast That Dares 64: Smee

Rish presents A.M. Burrage's 1931 short horror story "Smee." A young man tells of a disturbing experience that happened to him while playing a game similar to Hide & Seek.

As always, you can download the file by Right-Clicking HERE.

And of course, you should support my Patreon by clicking HERE (they got an extended version of this episode).

Logo by Gino "Pee" Moretto.

Nine, Ten, Never Sleep Again

One of the tasks I don't tend to look forward to at the library is waking up sleeping patrons.*  Now, this has gotten much easier in the year since I first started (mostly because I now understand that while most of them are just sleeping, every once in a while . . . they ain't).

Tonight, there was an elderly man asleep in one of the chairs.  Sometimes it's hard to tell if they're sleeping or just looking at their phones/reading/meditating/praying, but this guy was clearly deep unconscious, just from the position of his body.  I approached him and said, "Hey there."  But he didn't stir.  I got closer.  " Sir, are you alright" I said louder, and there was no reaction.

Now, we're not supposed to touch people, so this time, I got very close and sort of shook the chair he was sitting in.  "Sir?" I said, "Are you--"  And he came awake.

Seeing my face looking down at him, you'd have thought I was the wolfman, a zombie, or worse, Mitch McConnell.**  He recoiled and actually exclaimed, "Ahh!" (which you don't hear all that often)

I apologized, saying I was just checking on him.

"You scared me," he mumbled, and put a hand over his heart.

"Sorry about that."  And I had no other option but to leave him alone.  As I walked back downstairs, I thought of how it would be to awaken to see me leering down at you.  It occurred to me that waking up to my face might well have killed the old bugger.

His inevitable nightmares tonight are preferable, though he may not consider them that way.

*It may sound like I'm complaining here--most of my job is quite pleasant, and I often feel useful--but I would rather mop up a spill (or worse) than wake up sleeping homeless people.

**I originally typed Willem DaFoe there.  But he doesn't deserve that.