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Dear Readers,

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Okay, so tell me!
                               CHARMING DECEPTION  
Are you happy with the one-page episodes?  Some of my younger readers love the single page 250-300 word serialization, but a few of you say you'd like a little more at a time.  So, give me your opinion.  Stay with the one page episodes?  Or go with longer installments?  Maybe about five pages?  Full chapter is about ten to fifteen pages.   Thank you for your feedback.
                                                                             Hugs,
                                                                             Carol 

Car May Be Smart, But Author Easily Confused  

Good Morning!
    As some of you may have noticed, I somehow managed to leave out Episode Nineteen, The Pookie Wookie.  I'm sorry!  I admit it, I am a notoriously bad "cut-and-paster."  When you have a moment, go back and give The Pookie Wookie a read through.  I hope you are enjoying CHARMING DECEPTION so far, as well as Parker's beautiful pictures and wonderful insights into the world of art.  His posts are not only educational, but inspiring.
    Just a reminder, "Vision and Verse" will be celebrating it's big one month anniversary on Wednesday, May 15, 2013.  In celebration, we are giving away a digital copy of BELTERRA, a science fiction romantic adventure that made it into the top fifty last year; it is my bestseller, and is dear to my heart.
    We will randomly pick a name from all those who leave a comment in "Vision and Verse".  Remember you don't need to have a kindle to read an ebook.  Amazon.com provides a free kindle app for your computer or phone, allowing you to access their treasure trove of books.
    Looking forward to hearing from you.
                                                  Hugs,
                                                  Carol

    
        

Episode Twenty-Three Molly Kasjak

Episode Twenty-Three   Molly Kasjak

    “Father, you were aware of this technology?”

    “Yes, yes, of course we are, Bella.  That’s how I sent you to Demby.  But, unlike the Galts, we don’t jump back and forth through the damn thing.  We use it only in extreme emergencies.  It’s rather creepy.  And I believe it jangles up one’s brainwaves.”  She rolled her eyes.

    “Are you the best tracker the Galts have, the best on the planet?” she asked.  His head bobbed left and right.

    “Father! I want to hear his explanation.”  King Frederick nodded.

    “They SAY so, I don’t really know,” he said modestly.  “I know I’m good, I don’t know if I’m the best.  I can sense body signals.  And I can communicate with the animals and plants on most planets.  That gives me a definite edge.  I’m a tracker,” Tarek looked directly at the king,  “but I am not a killer.” He moved closer to Samantha. 

    “Sam, Baby, get out of here,” he whispered.  “Go home.  Find the portal and get out of here.  If I know you’re home safe and waiting for me, I can survive this and I’ll get back home to you as soon as I can,” he whispered.  She nodded.  He looked very tired and stressed.

    “What’s all this whispering about?” croaked the king, rearming the device.

    “This will be over soon.  Do you need some water?” she spoke softly.  He shook his head no.

    “What do you need, Sweetie?”

    “Just you,” he said, wincing from the shock collar.

    “Sh,” she put her finger to his lips.

    “Father, please!”  She cried at the king, who moaned but held down the bypass button.

    “Were you hired to find me and kill me?”

    “I was given that assignment by the Galtari National High Council.”

    “And you accepted it?”

    “I had no choice in the matter.  It was not a request.  One may not refuse a command from the Galt High Council and live.”

    “And you tracked me to Earth?”

    “Yes.  The High Council determined King Frederick sent you to Earth, where you would fit in very well.  So, they sent me to Earth, where I picked up your signal and followed it to… you.  You were living there as Molly Kasjak.  And… I watched you.”

    “Molly Kasjak?  That’s what Werner called me?  Who is this Molly Kasjak?”

    “You, in Demby.  A mathematical genius.”

    “How long did you watch me in Demby?”

    “A long time.  In Earth-time, six months, maybe longer, before we began a relationship.  We were close, very close.  At first I just watched you walk from your apartment to work in the morning at the trucking company, Trafford Trucking.”

    “I remember Trafford.  Mr. Trafford.  Jim.  Not a very friendly guy, but I know he liked me and looked out for me.  He hired me because I was a mathematical genius?  Here I thought I was just office help.  I should’ve asked for a raise.” 

    “I watched you eat lunch alone in your office, the lunch you packed.  I watched you walk home after work to your small apartment above the legal office.  Alone.  I tailed your co-workers to the bar around the corner one evening, and I listened to what they said about you.”

    “My co-workers talked about me at ‘The Bleak Horizon’?”

COVER ART - COMIC BOOKS

One might not relate comic books to art, at least not in the formal sense, but, those volumes of brilliantly colored imagination and adventure are an interesting art form.  I believe the real art lies, not in what is contained within the book, but rather on it's cover.  As a child I remember it was the cover illustration that grabbed my attention and inflamed my desire to immerse myself in the story.

An extraordinary book by Greg Sadowski, with a foreword by Ty Templeton, celebrates the eye-popping artistry of the comic book cover.   "Comic Book Covers of the Golden Age, 1933-1945", is an album of 176 examples of classic cover art.  Paging through it, one will begin to understand the magic and see why children were so eager to part with their allowances just to get their hands on a copy.

There are images of Bugs Bunny, ruthless gangsters, mad scientists, soldiers, and heroes, all full size and in vivid color.  It features works from artists like Carl Barks, Jack Cole, Reed Crandall, Walt Kelly, and Jack Kirby, and is sure to fascinate and delight the child in all of us.

Episode Twenty-Two Interviewing the Galt

Episode Twenty-Two   Interviewing the Galt

    Soon her father stormed into her chambers.
    “All right.  I’ve had him injected with a double dose of truth serum because these Galts are notoriously strong-willed.  I will allow you to question him.  But I will be present.  I have a list of questions of my own for you to ask him.  Here.  And there will be absolutely NO coddling!  Do you understand me, Isabella?”
    “Yes.  Fine, I can agree to that.  No torturing and no coddling.  We can handle this like civilized people, you’ll see.  Jakson is a good man, honest and reasonable.  Thank you, Father.”  They walked up to the tower.  Justin opened the door.
    “What have you done to him?” she gasped.
    “Nothing,” said the king.  “Yet.”
    “Can’t you remove that horrible shock harness?”
    “No”
    “Well, then, can you lower him?”
    “Isabella!  This is not a tea party!  It’s SUPPOSED to hurt.”
    “Father, please.  Lower him?”
    The king groaned and pressed some buttons.  Jakson puddled to the ground, rubbing his shoulders.
“Is that a little better?” she whispered to Jakson.  He nodded.  “Would you rather a chair?”  He shook his head no, sitting on the floor.  She pulled up a chair right in front of him and sat.
    “Begin whenever you wish, Isabella.  I’ll sit behind you.  I will handle the remote.”
    “I am Princess Isabella of Robesson,” she winked at him and mouthed a kiss.  “I will be conducting this, uh, interview today.  I know you will be very truthful with me because you’ve been double dosed with truth serum.  Do not speak unless I ask you to or you will be shocked.  My father, King Frederick, can bypass the shock device with the remote in his hand.  Do you understand?”  He nodded.
    “Are you ready for me to begin questioning you?”  He nodded, staring at her intently.
    “Okay.  Is your name Jakson Blake?”  She held her breath.  Damn, he thought, why did she have to start with THAT one?  He froze.  “Are you my Jaks?”  He breathed a sigh of relief.  He nodded with a tiny smile.  No matter what he was or wasn’t, he would always be her Jaks.
    “And are you also known on this planet as Tarek Ikari?”  He nodded.
    “And nobody around here notices you speak with a British accent?  Please explain.” She looked at her father who held down the bypass button.
    “They don’t hear it,” again he faintly smiled.  “They perceive it as nothing more than a regional dialect.  From the poor, disadvantaged side of town.”
    “Can you explain the doorway to me?”
    “Yes.  Our scientists were working on a way to travel great distances in short periods of time.  They developed a chemical that could fold the layers of space into a portal.  But instead of only liquefying the membrane on this planet, it also worked between other livable parallel worlds.  At first, it was painted over a plain interior wall, and looked like an old mirror.  The liquid could open a portal, or a doorway between two worlds.  Of course, we had no idea there were so many parallel worlds out there, and that a doorway once painted open could be accessed from either side, time and time again.  It was later we discovered we could actually pick a specific portal by using a translocation disc.”

INSPIRING ARTISTS

 

 

I am often inspired by the work of other artists.  Many times I find creations that I use as a template for my own art.  One artist who has stimulated my creativity, is also a member of my family, my uncle, Dave Reed.

Dave is a self-taught artist who has painted some of the most beautiful landscapes I've seen.  He works in acrylics and incorporates "Bob Ross"**  techniques in his work.  He masterfully portrays a pastoral, idyllic mood in his scenes. 

Pictured at the top is one of many amazing lighthouses he's painted.  From this work I was inspired to "paint" my version in cardstock.  (below) 

I plan to feature more of Dave's work in future posts, thereby stirring your creative nature.

**Bob Ross  was a noted artist and host of the PBS show, The Joy of Painting, where he taught viewers  his techinques, using the "wet-on-wet" style of painting in oils.

Good Morning,
    Just a quick note to remind you.  Only one week to go to the one month anniversary of Vision and Verse.  We will be sending out a copy of my bestselling sci-fi romantic adventure novel of 2012, BELTERRA, to the lucky reader picked from all those who leave a comment here.  Judging from the numbers so far, you have a really good chance to win.  Remember you don't need a kindle to read a kindle ebook.  Amazon.com provides a free app for your phone or computer.  Parker and I thank you for your support.
                                                                       Hugs,
                                                                       Carol

Episode Twenty-One Meet Jakson Blake

Episode Twenty-One   Meet Jakson Blake

    “Isabella!  What in the hell are you doing?” bellowed her father as he entered the room with his men. “Coddling the same Galt tracker who was hired to kill you?  What is the matter with you?  Have you taken leave of all your senses?  Justin, Morgan, take my daughter out of here and see to it that she stays in her chambers, even if you must barricade her in!”  Justin and Morgan picked her up.

    “No!  Father!  Don’t kill him!  Please!  Don’t strike him!  Please don’t be brutal!  Don’t hurt him.  Simply ask him what you want to know.  He’ll tell you the truth.  He’s an honest and reasonable man.  And don’t cut anything off!  Don’t hurt him, promise me!  Promise it, Father!”  Her father said nothing as she was escorted to her room.

    Time passed.  She paced.

    “Cora, I am sick to my stomach thinking of what could be happening to him up there!”

    “You need to sit and calm down.  I’ll bring you something to drink,” said Cora, “something strong.”  Claire disappeared and returned with a decanter of thick, green liquid and two glasses.  “Here,” Cora poured and handed one to her, “drink it down.”

    “Good grief, Cora, did you raid my father’s private liquor cabinet?  Is this what I think it is?”

    “Yes,” she giggled.  “This green stuff is illegal on most planets.”   Cora poured herself a drink and they drank together.  Then they drank some more.  Soon Isabella was calm and Cora was giggly.

    “So, tell me about this husband of yours, Sam.”

    “Ahhh!  His name is Jakson Blake.  And he is… wonderful.  He’s an international binding arbitration mediator.  He’s an old world, continental gentleman, mannerly, well educated, from a wealthy family, and he speaks seven languages.  He’s in demand all over the world.  He’s tall, thin, and good-looking.  But it’s when he starts talking that he’s truly adorable.  He’s so sweet and lovable and romantic.  He makes me happy.  He makes me smile inside when I look at him.”

    “Well, well!  That sounds like love to me!  And where did you meet this good looking, sweet man of yours?”

    “I was doing relief work in Ohio, at the high school after a tornado hit my hometown.  I was knee-deep in clothing vouchers and private donations and paperwork and old people in dire need of their medication and crying babies with their half-crazed, worried mothers from the minute the doors opened.  I had worked through lunch and was exhausted.  And in walked this man in a suit, this breath of fresh air, this picture of calmness and serenity, with an ability to organize chaos with a smile on his face, one gorgeous smile.  With a reassuring voice and an air of authority, he had the room cleared out in a matter of minutes, with everybody happily on their way to whatever they needed.

I remember it very well…

    “YOU are just remarkable!” she looked up at him in utter amazement.  He flashed his gorgeous smile at her.

“Thank you, thank you very much.  And I’m also very hungry.  Would you care to accompany me to the cafeteria?” he said, offering her his arm.

    “I’d be delighted, Mr…”

    “Blake.  Jakson Blake.”  She took his elbow as they walked toward the cafeteria.

    “Well, hello, Blake, Jakson Blake.  I’m Hannery, Samantha Hannery.”

    “Yes, I know.  I asked who you were first thing this morning.”

Episode Twenty and Nineteen A Visit to the Tower, Pookie Wookie

     Early the next morning there was a buzz through the castle.  The Galt tracker had been found and captured, and King Frederick of Robesson was going to handle the interrogation himself.

    “Cora, are you SURE?”

    “Yes, I saw them drag him in.”

    “Describe him.”

    “A bundle of arms and legs being dragged up to the tower.  Dark hair, thin.  Black trousers.  I’m sorry.  In that position there wasn’t much to see.”

    Isabella walked quickly up to the tower followed closely by Justin.

    “Cora, stay here,” Justin called back to her.  “You don’t want to see what goes on up there, My Dear.”  He caught up to the princess.  “This is not a good idea,” fussed Justin.  “Your father will be furious at me for not keeping you away.  Do you have any idea what goes on in there?”

    “Yes, I do!  And that’s why we need to get in there right away.”

Isabella opened the door.  There was an unconscious Jakson, hanging by his wrists, stripped to the waist.  A guard had strapped some kind of electronic device to his neck and chest and was locking it with a key.  She gulped hard and composed herself.

    “Thank you, guard, I’ll take it from here.”

    “The truth serum will need a few more minutes to work properly, Princess, but the shock device is locked in place,” he handed her the remote, “and ready to go.  I tried it out, and gave him a little private lesson.  He’s a quick learner.  He knows he can nod yes or shake his head no.  No words.  Any sound that comes from his throat will cause a shock blast.”

    “Then, what’s the remote do?”

    “Hold down the green button to allow him to speak without being shocked.”

    “Give me the key.”

    “No!  You want to take it off of him?  Already?  I just put it on him!  But, why?”

    “You have the insolence to tell me no?  Justin, throw this cocky, disrespectful bastard out the window at the count of ten if he does not give me the key.  Then go down and take the key off of his miserable dead body and bring it up to me.  Either way, I get the key.  So which will it be?  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.”  The guard handed her the key.

    “King Frederick will be very angry with you.”

    “Oh, it won’t be the first time nor, dare I say it, the last.  I’ll deal with it.”

    “He’ll be very angry with me.”

    “Tell him I frightened you.  Boo!” she shouted.  “Now get the hell out of here before I heave you out of this window myself!”  He scurried away.

    “Justin, can you release him?”  Justin examined the apparatus. 

    “Well, I can raise it or lower it by turning this handle, but I have no idea where the release is.  And I’m afraid to experiment.  Your father doesn’t allow me up here too often.  He says I have no heart for torture.  And he is correct.  I can lower him.”

    “Then lower him gently, please.”   

    “Jaks?” she cradled his head in her arms.  “Jaks, Honey, can you hear me?”  He opened his eyes and gave her the tiniest smile.  She rocked him gently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here.  I don’t know how just yet, but I’ll find a way to get us home.”  He nodded. “I won’t desert you, I promise, and I won’t leave you up here at his mercy.  I’ll stay right here with you until I figure a way out of this mess.  I want to go home.  I want us to go home,” she kissed his forehead.


Episode Ninteen  The Pookie Wookie

    “She’s gone,” Jakson tried to explain.  “These hands came out through a silvery portal that opened up on the brick wall and they grabbed her.  Six, eight hands, grabbing at her all at once.  They grabbed hold of her and yanked her through the doorway.  I held onto her for as long as I could.  But she went flying through.  I reached in and tried to follow her.  But the portal closed.  I went into the closest doorway I could find.  But she wasn’t there.  I looked everywhere.  I can’t find her anywhere.  Unbelievable story, it makes no sense at all, I know!  But it’s the truth, I swear it.  She’s not here.  She’s gone.”
    Werner and his men were unimpressed with his explanation.
    “One minute you two are running down the street hand in hand and the next minute, POOF!  She’s gone!  Like magic!  You expect us to believe that?”
    “Okay.  You tell me.  Where did she go?  Where is she?”
    They dragged him back to Werner’s warehouse headquarters, where he repeated to Werner his ridiculous story of the silvery portal opening up in the middle of brick walls and many hands grabbing her and whisking her away from him.
    “Very strange hypothesis, this Jakson Blake’s scientific theory of wife evaporation.  Fine.  I’ll keep you tied up right here until she comes back to get you.  And you know she will!  Because she doesn’t want her sweet little pookie wookie roughed up.  Be very thankful I don’t have my men beat the shit out of you.  What’s the matter with you, man?  Why in the hell didn’t you just call out to us?  We were right there on the other side of the door!  You claim you love her.  Yet you let her jump out the second-story window!  You two could have landed in the street, got run over, and died.  Or broken yours bones.  And where the hell did you think you were going?  You knew you couldn’t get away from us.  I need her!  Now, thanks to your irresponsible actions, we’ve both lost her.  Stupid.  Stupid move, Blake.
    But I’ve really got to hand it to you, Blake.  Whatever you did to her, it worked.  That woman is crazy about you.”  Werner turned to his men.  “Take everything out of his pockets and tie him up securely.  And take away his shoes and socks.”
    “Now, we’ll just wait here for her to come and attempt to rescue you.  How long do you think it’ll take?  A day?  Two?”
    “She’s gone, Werner.  She’s not coming back for me.  They took her away from me.  They yanked her right out of my arms.  She’s not free to come back, for me or anything else.”
    “She’s the brains of your operation, Blake.  And she’s the guts, too.  She’ll find a way to save you,” said Werner.  “Okay, boys, it looks like we’re going to be here for a while.  Who’s got the cards?  George?  Okay, deal them.”
    Jakson waited until he was sure they were all sound asleep before he carefully and silently wriggled out of the ropes.  He quietly reached for his shoes and socks and then tiptoed out of the warehouse.  After he put on his socks and shoes, he walked to the downtown business district, where he could hide easily among the homeless people lurking in the archways and sleeping in any quiet, sheltered spot they could find.  He found a spot against an inside wall of a pavilion in the central park area.  He pulled up his collar, crouched down against the wall, and settled in for a few hours sleep.

ARTFULLY QUOTED

Many of us know artists by their paintings.  But how many of us know artists by their words?  Here are just a few inspirational quotes from some well known artists.


"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart".
--Vincent Van Gogh

"Creatvity takes courage".
--Henri Matisse

"If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint".
--Edward Hopper

"Art washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life".
--Pablo Picasso

"Great art picks up where nature ends".
--Marc Chagall



Now go forth and be inspired.
--Parker

MY FAVORITE POSTS FROM THE FIRST YEAR OF VISION & VERSE

For the next week I'd like to look back at and repost some of my favorite posts here on Vision & Verse.  I hope you will enjoy looking back with me at these special articles.

 

 

 

Here's another book you'll definitely want to get your hands on.  PAINTINGS OF NEW YORK, 1800 - 1950,  by Bruce Weber.

In the words of American Impressionist painter, Childe Hassan,  "The portrait of a city is in a way like the portrait of a person - the difficulty is to catch not only the superficial resemblance, but the inner self.  The spirit is what counts".

New York City has long been the center of the international art world and has attracted a multitude of artists because of it's energy and diversity.  Paintings of New York is a stunning collection of paintings by noted artists like Pier Mondrian, Georgia O'Keefe, Jacob Lawrence, and Edward Hopper; close to 80 in all.

The book fully embodies Hassan's definition of a portrait of this magnificent metropolis.  It is a beautifully crafted montage of art and history that is certain to delight art lovers..

Episode Eighteen Who's "We"?

    “A dull, boring, gray life.  I have no idea how long I was there, over a year, maybe two.  One day was just like another.  Then one day I woke up in a private clinic in Tampa, Florida with what I was told was a viral memory loss.  My head was aching.  When I was released, I went to my beautiful home on the beach.  It was like paradise.  It was wonderful.  And just when I thought my life couldn’t get any better, I was kidnapped by some international terrorists, one named Werner.  They had me do some code breaking and encoding for them.”  Her father nodded as he listened.  “Then we escaped.  We jumped out of a window, we slid down an awning, ran down the street, and slipped into a little vintage clothing shop, where we met a very sweet older woman who helped us find clothing to disguise us.”

    “WE?  Bella, who is we?”

    “Me,” she suddenly feared telling him the truth, “and my husband, Jakson Blake.”

    “Do you remember marrying this man, this Jakson Blake?”

    “Yes, Father, I do.  It was a lovely little ceremony on the beach with a few friends and some people from work.  My best friend Annette was my maid of honor.  The weather was perfect.  And Jakson’s parents came in from London.  Oh, they’re wonderful people, Father.  It was  beautiful!  I know that Jakson Blake is my husband,” she nodded.

    “And what does this Jakson Blake look like, Daughter?”

    “Tall, thin, dark hair, dark eyes.  An attractive man.  Kind, funny, and what a sweetheart!”

    “How long has this man been travelling with you as your husband?”

    “I’m not really sure. A year, a year and a half.  Why?”

    “Is THIS Jakson Blake, Isabella?”  He pulled out a photo from a file on the table.

    “Yes, that’s him, that’s my Jaks.  He’s an international mediator.  He’s a brilliant man, he speaks seven languages.  Oh, he’s incredible, Father,” she smiled and nodded.

    “No, Dear.  This is Tarek Ikari, a Galt tracker, actually the best tracker on all of Norwell, the one who was sent to track you, find you, and kill you.”

    “No!  No, Father, you’ve got it all wrong.  This is Jakson Blake.  Jaks is my husband.  He’s been wonderful to me, very loving, devoted.  He has had many opportunities to harm me, but he didn’t.  We’ve been together for a year and a half.  He could have killed me anytime, at night while I slept next to him.  Are you sure Werner and the international terrorists weren’t hired to track and kill me?”

    “I am absolutely positive Tarek Ikari was the one sent to kill you.  He is the best tracker the Galts have.  You are very lucky to be alive, Daughter.  Our men are zeroing in on him right now.  They expect to have him in custody by sunrise.”  Sam gulped hard.

    “Father, what will you do to him?”

    “Get the truth out of him.”

    “How?”

    “The usual way.”

    “And then what?”

    “No one has ever left the Tower alive, Child.”

    “Father, please don’t kill him, or hurt him.  Promise me.  I need to talk to him.”  Her father didn’t answer.  “I want to be there for your interrogation.”  She thought about it some more.  “No, no!  I want to handle the interrogation myself,” realizing she could spare him much agony that way.  Her father was silent.  “Father, PLEASE!”