Friday, March 25, 2011
Most of you might not know that yesterday was Harry Houdini's birthday. Happy birthday, Harry. Granted, it's a day late, but what's a day after all these years? Besides, Mary didn't tell me until late last night that I had to write this thing and by then Regan and I had taken a few drinks to toast you, my friend. You know, they've legalized absinthe again, so you can guess what Regan was drinking. I, on the other hand, drank my usual rum and coke.
I could give you the background of Harry Houdini, but you can find that on this Internet thing. I would prefer to tell you about the man, not his illusions. The illusions were his work, not the man.
Harry was a friend of mine. We had what some would believe was bizarre friendship. Harry Houdini did not have the soft hands you would think most actors would have. He was a real man who was not scared to get dirty. He was also a man who was not afraid to call a friend a friend, even if some people could see them as only freaks. That's right. Harry Houdini had lots of "circus freaks" as friends and he looked out for them when "normal" people tried to take advantage. As Harry always said, "The only true freak is the one that hides behind the mask of being normal."
Fine, fine. Mary wants me to talk about his illusions. She says that's the purpose of this what we're doing here – to let people in on the reality in the myths or some such thing. So I'm sorry, Harry. You know I've always been a sucker for my ladies. So after all these years, I'm going to give a few of your secrets away.
The world knew Harry Houdini for his stage magic – his illusions and grand escapes. But Harry's magic was more than that. When he wasn't on stage, he used his magic to try and repair the weave that protects us from the Realms. I do not know for sure if he was a realm creature or if he learned his magic from one. But I do know his magic was real.
Unfortunately, even real magic couldn't save him. The sad truth is, I watched him die not once, but twice. I am telling that story to those writers Mary hired. When they're satisfied I've told it all and I'm satisfied with their retelling, you'll learn the truth.
Well, Harry, I guess I'll sign off here. If you can access this Internet thing from wherever it is you went, know that me and my girls are still fighting the fight.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Beautiful, aren't they? And you haven't even met Toledo yet. Ah Toledo, the first girl I kissed....so long ago. Most men would envy a man my age, consorting with three beautiful women. Hell, I'd even envy myself if I didn't know about the realms.
But since I know more about them than I'd like to, you know who I envy? Those men who have a 9-to-5, go home to a wife, grow old and die, without ever knowing that nightmares lurk in shadows, goblins hide in trees, and the frog song on a summer night might be cultists plotting another way to destroy some portion of the weave that protects us from the self-serving monsters who rule the realms.
I know, Toledo, don't say it. Not every realm god is a monster. Still...wouldn't it have been nice to have a normal life? *Chuckle* I guess not. After all, I'd be 111 -- or, given the way things normally go -- I'd be pushing up daisies.
Monday, March 7, 2011
I bet you'd love to know my secret. I'll never tell...well, actually I will, just not yet. You'll have to wait for a book that hasn't even been started. In fact, I'm not in any of the books they've published yet. Can you believe it? Hmmm. Maybe they're saving the best for last.
Of course, my Daddy makes a brief appearance in Angels in Hell's Kitchen. He's the piano player at The Luckless Shamrock, but that was YEARS before I came along.
You will be able to read a book about me soon. I've seen the cover and the book is done in first draft -- of course I have to get around to reading it first -- and that might take awhile. Between my manicure, my massage, my lunch engagements, and my adventures with Hanover, I don't have much time to read. At least the topic is interesting -- my first adventure in the realms. The name of the book is High Rollers so you'll have to keep your eyes peeled for it. IMHO, it's going to be the best book in the series.
Well, I gtg (like my e-speak?). I hear there's a radical party tonight at Tipitina's. Josh Ritter and the Royal City Band is playing.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Hanover Fist is a private investigator. But he's more than that. Something is different about him. You see, unlike most PIs who get easy gigs like spying on a spouse having an affair, Hanover's investigations tend to lead him through tears in the weave into other realms. Some of these realms, like the realm of pleasure, he enjoys. Other realms, like the nightmare realm are pretty dangerous. Fortunately, Hanover doesn't work alone. He has me, Regan Worth, and Toledo Cats to help him solve the case. I'm the archivist and an expert in ancient languages. Toledo can talk to spiders, look into your soul, and other things she doesn't talk about to anyone -- not even Hanover. Regan is beautiful and erratic...restless as a panther in a cage. She's also haunted by memories of her past and sometimes by things that only she can see.
So why did we decide to tell our stories? You see, a few years back, we met a couple of writers -- Rachelle Reese and John E. Miller. They convinced us that people would want to read about our adventures in the realms. So we agreed. But before we could tell our story, we had to tell a little about how we came to be. That's what the first four books are about. Angels in Hell's Kitchen is about my mother and father. Rips in the Weave and The Desert Rose introduce you to the gods of many of the realms and cover the events leading up to Toledo's conception. From the Gator's Mouth tells the story of Hanover's birth. More books are underway and they involve us directly. We'll also tell some of our shorter stories here on the blog.
Well, that's it for now. I guess I left you with more mysteries than answers. You'll get used to it.