Things That Go Bump, Chapter 2

Welcome back!

In keeping with October's theme, today's installment involves more ghostly goings-on in a couple of local cemeteries. There will be spine-tingling photographs, hair-raising EVPs, and a stern admonition not to forget the Deep Woods Off when planning a trek to far-flung boneyards (if you don't know what a chigger is, look it up. You do NOT want a couple of hundred of them gnawing on your knees).

But first, we'll begin with a location far more sinister and foreboding than even the most fog-shrouded resting place of the dead.

No, first we will face a location that has known more despair, more tragedy, than anywhere else on the University of Mississippi campus.

I refer of course to my office at work.

As you recoil in abject terror, let me explain. Campus lore states that my humble work-space was once used to store cadavers for the Medical School, in the years long ago before the Med School moved to Jackson.

That would certainly explain the odd stains in the carpet, the eerie moans, and the finger-bones the custodian keeps vacuuming up.

Okay, the eerie moans are just my stomach, usually two hours before lunch. Still, my office seemed to be the perfect spot for a quick EVP session, lest anyone get the idea all I do is tramp around old cemeteries.

So below is my brief EVP session, conducted at my desk. It's not a pristine sound environment. People are talking nearby at times. Doors open and shut. I broke down into tears when I heard the vending machine dispensing salty, salty goodness to someone who was not me.

I'll go ahead and skip to the end, on this session.

I got nothing. Nada. Not a single pitiful moan, not a cryptic whispered plea for help, nothing.

Hey, but if you want to try your ears, go ahead! the sound file is below:

Frank's Office

So, another mundane location, another lack of any possible EVP activity.

Why would that be the case? Now look, I'm still on the fence as to what EVPs are. Could they be misinterpretations of audio artifacts generated by the equipment itself?

Yeah, maybe. That's one reason I want better gear. My next acquisition will be a Zoom H1 audio recorder, which is a pro-grade setup that I can actually trust. I've heard skeptics claim EVPs vanish when you start using top shelf equipment. If that's true, then mystery solved -- EVPs were all just a mixture of high noise floors and pareidolia.

My only personal quibble with this theory is this -- if it is true, then why don't I  'catch' possible EVPs in my office, on the patio, in the warehouse, like I do in cemeteries?

Look, I have a huge problem believing that the spirits of the dead hang around graveyards all day hoping some geek with a cheap digital voice recorder comes stomping by. Day after day? Year after year? Decade after decade?

No. No way.

I never expected to catch anything when I first started trying to capture EVPs. But here I am, catching them, and only in the kinds of places that seem, to be honest, a bit cliche.

Which brings me to my first cemetery visit for yesterday, Saturday October 13. The place: Tula Cemetery. That's it, pictured in the first photo of the blog (the BOO sign is mine).

It's a quiet, out-of-the-way graveyard outside Tula, MS. As far as I know, it has no reputation whatsoever for any kind of haunting or other phenomena. It's just a cemetery.

I went in light, with only my camera, my K2, and my voice recorder. That way I can hide everything but the camera if people show up and pretend to be taking photos of headstones. I do that because I don't imagine ghost hunting, no matter how careful or respectful, will prove very popular hereabouts.

I spent about 20 minutes wandering and talking. I put the recorder down on several stones and asked for comments. Here are a few of the markers I singled out:

The good Lieutenant above had nothing to say.

These poor souls were also silent. The sandstone markers and location suggest they died during a yellow fever epidemic in the early 1800s.

Mr. Hartin was equally reticent to speak.

Above we have a doctor, one Dr. Robert M. Webster. I was regaling Dr. Webster with tales of organ transplants in the hope he might express disbelief. I didn't get a voice, but I did get an odd noise (around the 8:30 mark in the full clip). Here it is, amplified just a bit for your convenience:

anythingsiramped.mp3

Right after I say "anything at all, sir" there is a weird rumbling groaning sort of noise. I didn't hear it during recording, and I'm not willing to say it's a vocalization of any kind. I just include it because it's odd.

The best odd recording I got at Tula is next. At the seven minute mark, while I was just walking about inviting anyone to speak, I said "Maybe I can understand you with the help of this instrument."

Apparently that struck someone (or, cue minor chords, something) as funny, because I recorded what sounds like a laugh.

Keep in mind I was alone. I heard nothing at the time of the recording. Here is the audio segment, unaltered:

Intrument.mp3

And here is the laugh, looped so you can hear it better, especially if you are listening with PC speakers:

laughlooped.mp3

To me, it sounds like this: "instrument."  HA HA HA.

The HA HA HA is repeated only 3 times in the original -- I looped it out to 30 in the clip just to make it easier to hear.

Here's another oddity about this item. Look at the screen-shot below.  It's the audio clip, isolated down to "...instrument HA HA HA."

See the first burst of sound, represented on the graph above? That's me, saying 'instrument.'

The next three bursts are the HA HA HA sounds. Notice how nearly they match the first burst -- my voice --in up-and-down space?

That's called amplitude. It directly relates to the volume of a sound. As you can see, the word instrument and the subsequent noises (HA HA HA or whatever they are) and nearly the same in amplitude. And they're all well above the background noise.

So, how did I not hear three bursts of sound that were nearly as loud as my own voice?

I don't have an answer for that. I didn't hear anything at the time of recording.

Those are the only two instances of odd audio I felt were worthy of note. Interested parties might want to listen very hard at the 3:00 and 9:01 marks, because I almost heard something there, but ultimately decided it was probably just wind noise.

Now, you heard me taking a lot of photos at Tula. I saw something odd in one of them, and I'll put it below:

You may have to click on it to get the big image to see it. But there is a weird purple corona around that stone. Chromatic lens distortion, or supernatural energy emission?

I'm going with the former. But hey, it's October.

Next up is another odd Tula photo. Let's play Spot the Apparition!

Okay, I cheated and drew you an arrow. But when I saw that, on my big screen monitor, it immediately looked out of place. In fact, to me it looks like a bad cut n' paste job. The colors don't match the rest of the scene and it just seems to be stuck there.

Too, it looks like a dog wearing a button-down collar shirt peeking around a grave marker. That's not on the list of Traditional Haunting Images.

Now, I think this happens a lot among amateur ghost hunters. They get a weird photo. They post it. Everyone scratches their head.

But, if you look at this photo in context -- i.e., among other pictures taken from different places and angles -- you soon see it's NOT actually a spectral but well-dressed dog peeking about. Look below:

It's just an old foot marker. Whew.

Okay, that debunked, we leave Tula with one.

Final.

Image.

I give you the Phantom of Tula!

Do you see it?

Is that an apparition I've circled? Or is it a trick of pareidola?

You decide....

Next stop -- Rock Hill Missionary Baptist Church and environs, just a few miles away. But first -- a cottonfield!

Here's Rock Hill MB Baptist Church:

The tiny cemetery is off to the right.

The cemetery is fenced in. Since I don't have anyone buried there, I didn't climb the fence, or try to open it. This is the Deep South and people take the sanctity of their dead very seriously. I take shotguns very seriously, so we're even on that point.

So I stood outside the gate and did a quick EVP session.

I got one odd result. It sounded like a whispered 'yes.' At first. then I remembered I turned to shield my mic from the wind and I'm writing that sound off as wind noise.

Note to self: No more cemetery EVP hunts on windy days without a good windscreen.

It was fun, hanging at cemeteries, snapping pictures of weathered grave-markers, talking to thin air like a loon.

Next week will be even more fun. So stick around! It's October. Who knows what might happen next?

Things That Go Bump, Chapter 1

Boo.

That's my theme for the month of October. Yeah, I know, it's a single word, and not a word laden with deep meaning, but on the plus side it's short and easy to pronounce, so boo it is.

I love October. The intense Mississippi heat gives way to a brief Mississippi autumn, which means our weather settings are being moved from INFERNO to TORNADO and we've got maybe a month before the big switch clicks into place and we start hearing the wail of the storm sirens again.

October. The leaves fall. The snakes pack their bags and head for winter quarters. I can stop mowing the bloody lawn every six hours just to keep the jungle from taking over.

But best of all, October means Halloween.

Which brings us back to boo.

Those of you who know me know I'm not just Oxford's least-renowned author. I also have a keen interest in the dubious science of the allegedly paranormal -- in other words, I do a little ghost hunting from time to time.

Let me get a few things straight with you up front. Do I or do I not believe in the existence of ghosts?

Yes and no, with a generous dollop of maybe. 

Glad we cleared that up.

Seriously, I'm not at all concerned with beliefs, even mine. No. I have one interest in this regard, and one interest only, and that is confirming or denying the existence of evidence of the paranormal. Specifically, EVP and related phenomena, magnetic anomalies associated with ghostly phenomena, and photographic evidence of hauntings and so forth.

A lot of people, many of whom just happen to have shows on TV, claim to routinely gather evidence (sound evidence, still and video evidence, etc.) of the paranormal. In fact, they gather evidence with such apparent ease and frequency that I decided to engage in the same techniques, and see if anything spooky happened to me.

It's taken a while, but I've put together a pretty decent ghost hunting kit. I've got cameras, digital and film, still and video. In addition to the usual cameras and so forth, I've got some of the gear you might see on TV, shown below:

From left to right, there's a Ramsey Tri-Field meter, which can sniff out electric fields, magnetic fields, and RF signals. You just select your mode and watch the lights. This thing is extremely sensitive, and in electric field mode it can pick up someone combing their hair from across the room. Would it react if the spirit of a dead person approached?

Maybe. Especially if they'd help out by combing their hair.

To the lower right of the Ramsey, you have an old-school cassette tape recorder. I keep it around because there is a school of thought which says ghosts can imprint their EVP conversations more easily on magnetic tape. Also because I've had it forever and it still works.  Yes, the motor sound can be heard on recordings, but it's pretty quiet as this technology goes.

Next to the tape recorder is the ever-popular K2 meter, first popularized on SyFy's "Ghost Hunters" and used by legions of ghost hunters ever since. This is a very simple, rugged device that measures EMF fields up to 20 milliGauss. One things you may not know about K2 meters (Not my Ramsey, so much, unless it's in RF mode) is this -- a cell phone in use nearby can light it up. Let's say an unscrupulous production assistant decided your show needed a little ratings boost -- stand in the next room, off camera, and order a pizza as the intrepid ghost hunters troop through Blood Mansion.

Look, there go the K2s. Must be a haunt!

To the right of the K2 is a device of my own design. It measures static electrical fields, and it too is very sensitive. You flip the big switch, put it somewhere, and watch the single red light. Changes in intensity signal changes in the nearby charges. Could be a cat walking past. Or not. Bwhahaha...

Finally, above it all, is a big black box that contains my first stab at making a so-called Raudive EVP mic/amp combination.

I started building it Saturday morning, using mostly spare parts. Here is a photo history of the construction, minus the segments of me pulling my hair out or foaming at the mouth:

It's all tucked neatly into its box now, ready to go. I did make one serious mistake in the design -- I planned to mount a speaker in the box, and listen to the device like you would a radio. But due to a math error (stupid math!) the output stage puts out two volts and not the twenty I was hoping for. So it can't drive a big speaker, but it can act as a microphone, and be plugged right into a digital voice recorder. So that's how I'll be using it today, because I'm out of parts, time, and patience.

Konstantin Raudive (pronounced raw-dee-vay, not raw-dive) is the father of EVP research. He was out recording birdsongs and found voices instead, which led him to make more recordings, which led to the discovery of even more voices.

Ask any scientist about this, and most of them will tell you what he and other EVP researchers are recording is simply stray radio noise. Then most scientists will smack you on the back of the head and laugh at you for thinking you were going to get 20 volts when you got only 2. They are often a bitter lot.

Is that what I think? The voices are all stray bits of Howard Stern broadcasts?

Could be. But -- and yes, there is a but -- I have heard EVP recordings which appeared to exhibit intelligence, responding to spoken questions with clarity and apparent reason. I don't believe that can be attributed to radio noise. Also, people are using good gear, and taking pains to reduce any radio interference. I've also heard EVP 'voices' which were captured on more than one device, and which showed evidence of echo and clear directionality -- which makes them an audio phenomena, not a radio one.

At this point, many people cry 'hoax.'  And I'm sure many EVP recordings are hoaxes. That's why I decided to capture them myself -- because that's the only way I can be absolutely sure I'm not being tricked. Because I keep a sharp eye on myself at all times.

The first time I tried to capture EVP activity was in a local cemetery on a bright, sunny Sunday afternoon. I made sure no one was around, I asked a few questions, stepped on a few graves, heard nothing out of the ordinary. Then went to a much more remote rural graveyard, where I did the same thing.

I downloaded the recordings and listened to them on my PC, expecting to hear nothing because after all I'd heard nothing.

But that's not what happened.

In the first graveyard, I caught a faint but distinct female voice saying 'hurry, honey.' In the rural cemetery, I captured part of what sounded like a conversation between a man and a woman, though no one was around having any conversation of any kind.

I didn't fake these. Yes, the sounds are faint. But they are there.

And that was my first time out.

Now, the gear I've been using is designed to capture sounds by use of audio microphones.

The box I slapped together yesterday is totally different. It has no microphone at all -- in fact, it's just a germanium diode (the classic 1n34A), a 0.5 mH coil, and a very basic op-amp which boosts the signal about 200 times.

This is a so-called 'Raudive microphone,' which is actually a crude, detuned AM radio with a tiny 3 inch antenna. All one should hear is static. There are people claiming to hear not just voices but whole conversations.

Well, today we're going to try it for ourselves. And you can be a part of it, because in a few minutes I'm going to set up every piece of gear I have and conduct an EVP session right here at my desk. I'll be running the Raudive unit all the while, and when I'm done I'll pull its audio and analyze it for anything odd. If I find voices, I'll clip them out and post them below.

If I don't, well, I'll reveal that too.

Now, I know many ghost hunters prefer to tramp around deserted old buildings in the dark.  And that does make for good TV. But I'm not on TV, the locals tend to get all shooty and litigious with people they discover tramping around in the dark, and anyway "Hell on Wheels" is on later and I never miss that.

So today's paranormal investigation takes place here, in scenic Yocona, Mississippi. It's finally cool enough so that I can turn off the fans and the AC. I'll be speaking into a pro-quality Blue Snowball microphone for the audio session. I'll be making a secondary recording on my iPhone, just in case. The Raudive unit will be Raudiving away on the table behind me. I'll have the K2 an the Ramsey in plain sight, ready to light up if the room's EMF profile changes (and it shouldn't).

If you do hear a fan, it's one of the four in my monster PC, which is optimized for writing (gaming) and research (gaming). I've got them set to run at minimums, though, so hopefully all you'll hear is my voice.

Present in the room is Lou Ann, asleep in the recliner, Petey, downstairs asleep, and Thor, who comes and goes with all the grace and agility of a drunken water buffalo. You can pretty much ignore sounds of movement, because that's obviously a dog.

Here's how this will work. I'll fire up the microphone and talk for a bit. Then I'll use the old PC to fire up a wall of pure white noise. A lot of EVP researchers claim the white noise is used by entities to form words. I'm more of the belief that loud white noise can trick you into thinking you heard words, but hey, I'll give it a shot.

Once I'm done with the session, I'll post it. Then I'll use my audio software (it's just Audacity, which you can get too -- it's free, and everyone uses it) to look for voices that shouldn't be there. If I find any, I'll post them too.

I won't do any elaborate post-processing. you can either hear it or you can't. I don't tweak the files much, because it's too easy to tweak plain old noise into something that does sound like 'Mustard, I feel the noses, dance my slacks, Portnoy.' 

And you get to be here for it, live! Okay, not live in the broadcast sense, but live as in not dead, I suppose. And if you are dead, please stop being such a prima donna and say something plain and direct, okay? Thanks.

Here's the setup -- K2, Ramsey, and EMF below monitor at to left of mic:

The ambient EMF, which is around 44 microTeslas:

Finally, the meters. The K2 is showing its usual one LED. The Ramsey is set for electric field detection, but is mostly very quiet.

So, the stage is set, the mics are hot, and it's time to see if anyone out there is in a talkative mood.  Join me as I take a brief journey into --

Okay, I won't say it, but you know you heard the theme song.

First EVP session

So that's five minutes of rambling by one more or less living person. Analysis of the entire segment revealed nothing out of the ordinary. 

Next, I added a blast of white noise to the mix. White noise is simply static. It's a very defined kind of static, and I could post a whole page of math about it, but you know what static sounds like.

I really cranked the level. It doesn't sound that thunderous on the recording, because the Blue was set for near field, but it was pretty loud to me.  I talked through it, asked the usual questions. But here, listen for yourself.

Second EVP session

I analysed the audio above, expecting nothing.

Oddly enough, I did find an oddity. At about four minutes, I noted that I was hearing a sort of sing-song high-pitched sound, like a child humming or singing in the distance. I was pretty sure I was imagining it, because I hadn't heard it before, and sing-song kid voices are NOT a component of white noise.

But I caught it, and I've isolated a sample below. It lasted for about 20 seconds. I have no idea what it was. It's faint -- I use a good pair of headphones to listen to my EVP recordings -- but if you crank the volume you can hear it. NOTE: I was forced to do a little noise reduction and loop this sample, because you really can't hear it without headphones otherwise.

Singsong Sound

What was it?

I have no idea whatsoever.  I heard it. The Blue caught it. So it was there, but whether it was Lou Ann playing her hidden accordion or some long-lost relative telling me to knock it off and get a real job, I'll probably never know.

I don't consider that clip evidence of anything paranormal. It's just a weird noise.

I also recorded 41 minutes of audio on my new Raudive box.

Have you ever tried to sit and listen intently to 41 minutes of static?

Oh yeah. Good times. Nothing there. Just static.

Today was a sort of general introduction to EVP recording and EVPs in general. Next week, I take to the field, recording some EVPs in the places ghosts reputably gather. Graveyards. Haunted houses. My book signings. You know, any desolate, lonely place where the living seldom dare intrude.

Thanks for joining me! Stay tuned, because this whole month is about ghosts, goblins, and things what go bump in der nicht.

I started with boo. Now I say bye. Until next time, my friends...

Markhat Unmasked!

Stand well back, gentle readers.

Stand back and brace yourselves, for the next image you will see is an artist's rendition of Markhat, Rannit's most (in)famous finder-for-hire.

Both of these amazing pieces of hand-drawn art were created by artist Raevyn Tws (his Facebook page is here). Both were drawn without the use of computer assistance of any kind, a feat which still leaves me awestruck.

The artist (who, it must be noted, rocks) captured Markhat delivering one of his smart-aleck one-liners. Maybe Markhat is mocking some mystical pronouncement by Mama Hog. Maybe he is chiding Evis for putting out the cheap beer. Or perhaps Markhat is tweaking some gangster's nose, hoping to goad him into doing something unwise.

Whatever the conversation, this is Markhat, brought to you by a man with an amazing talent and a skill perfected over years of dedicated attention to his craft. I give you Markhat, Engaged in Inadvisable Witticism!

Feast your eyes, friends. Favor the fantastic. Eagerly enjoy the enlightened effort. I love this image.

Obviously, this is post-Darla Markhat, because his suit is neat and pressed, his tie is on straight, and that's not Jed Clampett's battered old hat. No, this is Markhat at his best -- clean, sober, and not afraid for people to know it.

If I had to pick a scene to go with this image, I think I'd choose the time in The Broken Bell when Markhat bluffs his way into the Lethway mansion and winds up in an upstairs kitchen, eating with the domestic staff as he pretends to be a mining consultant. Now, the full extent of Markhat's knowledge of mining is that the practice seems to involve holes in the ground, but that doesn't stop him from delivering a long, detailed explanation of something he calls a Morris mining ram, which he makes up on the spot.

It works. The staff accepts him as just another tradesman, and he's able to glean a few important clues during his brief stay at the house.

That's Markhat, in a nutshell. He doesn't know anything about mining, but he understands people and how they work quite well indeed. Become the long-winded gasbag of a Morris ram salesman, and you'll be ignored. Avoided, even. Free to nose about.

As Markhat notes, more than once, his profession has risks, but at least it doesn't involve the rigors of honest work.

Look at that image again. That's exactly what the piece conveys -- a man not just pulling the wool over someone's eyes, but tugging their ears and tweaking their noses as he pulls.

Next we have Markhat in full standing profile, in a piece I like to call Markhat Redistributes Wealth:

Here we see an immaculately-dressed Markhat plying his trade in a swank dining club. Now, Markhat is not exactly a regular patron of any of Rannit's swank dining clubs, although, he asks me to add, 'he has been forcibly ejected from all the best ones.' But since many of his cases involve Rannit's wealthy plutocrats, Markhat finds himself inside the refined eateries and bars frequently. Here, Markhat is pointing out his dining companion to a suspicious headwaiter. Note Markhat's left hand, which is reaching into his pocket for the pair of Old Kingdom gold crowns he will accidentally press into the headwaiter's hand, which will in turn cause the headwaiter to conveniently look away long enough for Markhat to seat himself despite his lifetime banning from the somewhat stodgy establishment.

Now that's what I call art. I can see the stories in these pictures. And if you think I said to Raevyn 'I want one sitting smirk with a finger upraised and one standing while bribing a waiter in a fancy night club,' you'd be dead wrong. The man came up with these on his own.

I hope you ladies and gentlemen have enjoyed these two pieces as much as I have. I'm going to have both printed and framed and hung on my study wall.

I believe the artist would get a HUGE kick out of hearing how much you like these, too. You can email me and I'll forward your comments, or you can browse on over to Raevyn's FB page at http://www.facebook.com/raevyn.tws and tell him yourself. Honestly, the man is a walking miracle -- who else does portraits like these in magic marker?

So thank you, Raevyn Tws, for bringing a character I've been writing about for years to life.  I will treasure these images forever!

Markhat Revealed, Part Two

Last week, I posed a question to you, my vast army of loyal readers. The question was this -- what actors should be chosen to portray Markhat and Darla in the rumored movie adaptation of The Broken Bell?

Yes, there is a rumor that The Broken Bell is under consideration by several top Hollywood film producers. I know, because I just started the rumor. Do your part and help spread it! Remember, loose lips sink ships. I know that's not entirely applicable in this instance, but I like saying it fast.

Your responses were swift and insightful. I'm going to list them all below, and each will be linked to a Wikipedia photo of the actor or actress named, so if you don't know the face, click and it shall be shown unto you. I won't send you to any long-loading movie or unsavory fan sites, so click without worry or undue apprehension.

Markhat:

Todd Lowe  Currently starring in HBO's True Blood. He looks tough, and a bit haunted.

Joe Manganiello - You've seen him in ER and Spiderman (the 2002 release). He could do Markhat perfectly.

Michael McMillian - He's got a younger everyman quality I like too.

Richard Armitage - May be my favorite Markhat suggestion thus far. Good-looking but can carry a smirk.


Darla:

Winona Ryder - You know Wynona! A great choice for Darla.

Ashley Judd - I admit I never thought of Ashley Judd as Darla, but now that I do think about it, yes, she could pull it off.

Sandra Bullock - Wow. Sandra Bullock would make a wonderful Darla. Her eyes and hair are perfect.

Lacey Chabert - A fellow Mississippian, born in the little town of Purvis, not far from here. She's had many roles in live-action and as a voice actress in numerous animated films as well.

Essie Davis - Australian actress with big eyes. Blonde, but hair dye technology improves every day!

Putting aside for a moment my own idea that actor Timothy Hutton should portray Markhat, I think my favorite pairing for from the lists above comes down to this --

INSERT DRUMROLL HERE

Richard Armitage as Markhat, and Winona Ryder as Darla!

We also have a suggestion for the actress best suited to play Mama Hog. Phyllis Diller would have been perfect for the role, yes, but as she is sadly passed, Cloris Leachman would be wonderful for the role. Especially shrunk down digitally, as were the actors who portrayed the Hobbits in The Lord of the Rings.

I know, I know, most of you hate that pairing. But take it up with Universal Studios; they are the ones rumored to be doing the rumored casting. I have nothing to do with it. Complain to them, in writing, and remember to send thousands of registered letters each day for at least a month.

Let me offer a very special thanks to everyone who suggested a name. That would be Maria and JWB and Merrian and Kellie and April!

I'll make sure your monickers show up in a later book, so watch for them.

Now for the big news -- in next Sunday's entry, I hope to release, for the first time anywhere, a pair of absolutely brilliant hand-drawn portrayals of Markhat, done by a real artist. No computer enhancements, either -- he does all his work strictly by hand, with pens, on paper.

I've seen the sketches already, and I'm floored. You will be too, so stop back by next Sunday!

Markhat Revealed!

People are always asking me questions. Usually these questions are "Why aren't you wearing pants?" or "Is that your car up there in the tree?"

First of all, I am seldom without trousers. And second, most of these voices are in my head, and most of the time they just want me to panic so they can laugh and say 'Made you look!'

And yes, I have suffered numerous concussions. But that's really beside the point.

Lately, though, I have been asked more than once how I picture my fictional detective Markhat when I'm writing him.

That's easy. Markhat sprang to life with his face complete, and now, for the first time anywhere, I reveal it here, to you:

Yep. My fictional detective Markhat is a dead ringer for actor Timothy Hutton. Specifically, Timothy Hutton as he (brilliantly) portrayed fictional detective Archie Goodwin in A&E's 'Nero Wolfe' TV series.

Strange how these things work out, isn't it?

Here's another shot, of Markhat loitering with two women who are not Darla:

Speaking of Darla, I have an image in my head of her too. But I've not been able to match it exactly with anyone I can name. Darla is tall, slender, brown-eyed, black-haired, and just a touch pale. She wears her hair in a bob cut reminiscent of a Roaring Twenties flapper. She tends to be a conservative dresser, but favors purples and browns and umbers. She might wear a pillbox hat with a tiny bit of veil on it.

Any ideas?

Gina Bellman has been suggested. She works with Mr. Hutton now, on the TNT's show Leverage (which I love). She has a great look, and I think she'd be a wonderful Darla, given the right hairstyle. Here she is, below:

Darla is smart, brave, and nobody's shrinking violet. Bellman certainly has the look!

What do you guys think? Tell you what. Reply in the comments section, or email me at  franktuttle@franktuttle.com with your picks for actors to portray Markhat and Darla. The winner gets an all-expenses-paid trip to the set of the Markhat motion picture, OR I name a character after them in the new Markhat book, whichever event takes place first (I leave it to your judgment to determine the likelihood of that particular scenario).

So Timothy Hutton and Gina Bellman are taken. Who else should play Markhat and Darla? Contest starts...NOW! And runs until next Sunday, when I do another blog entry.


And for the benefit of anyone out there scratching their head and asking "Who is this Markhat character anyway?" I offer this, a complete listing of the Markhat books, in the order they are best read.

Dead Man's Rain

The Cadaver Client

The Mister Trophy

Hold the Dark

The Banshee's Walk

The Broken Bell

Don't have a Kindle? No worries, they're available in print too. Here's a link to all formats:

Frank's books on Amazon, including print!

So let's see who YOU think should play Markhat and Darla!

The Ghosts in the Camera

If you're a Lord of the Rings fan -- and I hope you are -- you've probably heard of the (in)famous parody of the epic series done by the Harvard Lampoon back in 1969.

The parody is called Bored of the Rings, and if you haven't read it yet, you should. Few books have moved me to laughter so many times. It's irreverent, crude, and often obscene, but as the polar opposite of the grandeur and dignity of the real Lord of the Rings it had to be.

Yes, I found the paperback, which appears to have been abducted by wolves, subjected to fires, and possibly passed between drunken tornadoes in the decades since '69.

But while looking, I found something else.

That, my friends, is a very old camera.

It was owned my my maternal grandfather, Harold Gean. Grandpaw Gean (hey, this is Mississippi, no one says 'grandfather' unless they're talking about a clock) was what we'd probably call a hoarder today. He got things. He kept things.

When he died, I wound up with this camera. I put it away, in a drawer, because I didn't want to sell it, and I've always had a fascination for anything optical.

Fast-forward through a few decades, to today. I found a sealed bag, vaguely remembered what was inside, and pulled it out.

A little research with my friend Google revealed this to be a German-made Agfa PB-20, probably manufactured in 1934. It used 120 mm film that came in a 9 exposure roll. It's a far cry from the whiz-bang zip-zap digital rigs of today. The photographer did all the work -- set the F-stop, set the focus, lined up the image with the twin pop-up framing sights. Checked his own lighting, heck, probably kicked wolves and badgers out of the way while he did all that. It was 1935. Rough and tumble was the order of the day.

Black and white film only, of course. Color for the average Joe was still a World War and a few years away. The Agfa PB-20 was a pretty popular camera, even though it cost a whopping seven bucks and change. And it took great photographs, too.

Granted, this particular specimen has seen better days. The leather is cracked and decaying. The bellows still expand and contract, but I doubt they're still light-tight. The lenses need a good cleaning. I think the shutter still works, but it needs a lot of TLC and some carefully-applied lubricant.

On the whole, though, the Agfa is in decent shape. The mechanics are still basically sound. Turns out the differences between the 1934 Agfa and my 1967 Pentax K1000 aren't that vast. Just for fun, I tried rewinding the film, sure the old camera was empty.

I felt resistance. Felt movement inside.

That's right -- it felt like there was a roll of Kodak Verichrome 120 mm B&W film still inside the camera. 

I completed the rewind process, telling myself the whole time I was just feeling eight decades of grime and decay acting against the rewind wheel, and nothing else. No need to get my hopes up. Even if there was film inside, what are the odds it might still be viable after all this time?

Still, I very carefully rewound it, and after a few more minutes on Google, I opened the Agfar for the first time since Franklin D. Roosevelt was President.

And there it was -- a roll of Kodak Verichrome, just like the Web predicted. Largely intact.

For all I know, it was last used to take photos sometime between the Great Depression and World War II.

Photos of people who might well be my grandparents or other relatives.

From seventy years ago.

The reality is that the film is probably so degraded it can't be developed at all. Or that if it can, I get five images of old shoes or blurry thumbs.

But what if, against all odds, a few snapshots of a long-gone place and time are preserved therein?

I put the film roll in a light-tight bag. I'm checking around now, to see if anyone I know has any darkroom equipment. If I ever do wind up with images, believe me, I'll post them here.

But even if I don't, for a moment I felt a unique connection with the man who loaded film in the Agfar, so many years ago. I'm sure he meant to have the photos developed. I'm sure he had no idea, no idea whatsoever, that his grandson would be posting pictures of the camera on something called the Net and talking about him in something called a blog. The words themselves would have held little or no meaning to him.

But the pictures, if they have survived, will transcend all that time, all those years. Even if I don't recognize any of the faces. We'll be looking at each other, through this tiny lens, across a gulf of years.

So maybe this weatherbeaten old camera served its purpose after all, seventy plus years after its day.

UPDATE!

It's the University of Mississippi Art Department to the rescue! An intrepid art instructor who specializes in photography has graciously agreed to take a stab at developing the film. I should know whether there are images there by the first of next week! Thanks Ashley! Will of course post an update then.

Out on the Patio Number Four!

You ever have one of those days?

Sure you have. Every cord you try to move is tangled. Every battery you try to use is dead. Every door you approach while bearing an armful of delicate items is inexplicably and implacably locked.

If you reach for a glass, it breaks. If you race through the house, barking more shins than any biped actually possesses to reach a ringing phone, it goes dead as soon as you pick it up, and it was a wrong number anyway.

I'm having one of those days.

It all started innocently enough. It's Sunday, and I always blog on Sundays. Today I decided to include an audio segment -- and that's when the Chaos Demons came out to play.

First, I took all my audio gear out on the patio. Laptop. Microphone. Pop filter. Cables. Book to read from. Frosty beverage with which to refresh myself. Handy multi-tool with which to open aforementioned frosty beverage.

I set everything up. Windows insisted on some sort of upgrade before loading. Clouds gathered, threatening a shower, while Windows loaded my netbook's tiny processor down with a few million no doubt urgent operations.

I kept an anxious eye on the weather. Meanwhile, Thor saw a book he hadn't read, and made off with my print copy of THE BANSHEE'S WALK. I took off in pursuit, the other dogs joined in the game, and we had a merry romp in the backyard while my poor copy of BANSHEE went from excellent to extremely dogged condition.

I get back to the makeshift recording studio, damp, bedraggled book in hand. I sit down, I start to speak, and the netbook's power light begins to flash, while the ominous Battery is low, connect to AC adapter message appears.

I just charged the blinkin' battery. But hey, arguing with electronics does no good, so I dart inside the study, grab the netbook's AC thingy, and race back out to the patio, arriving just in time to see the netbook shut itself down.

Yay. I run an extension cord out there, hook the netbook back up, wait while it boots. I observe the dogs at carefree play. I look down, and realize my pop filter is missing.

Yes, the dogs are at carefree play with my handmade microphone pop filter.

I make a lot of my own gear. The pop filter is just some weird steel foot-thing from who knows where, some steel pipe clamps, part of an industrial air filter, and some acoustic foam. You could probably drop it out of an airplane and pick it up and use it -- but four dogs? Four happy carefree big dogs?

Once again, hilarity ensues. The pop filter, which is pretty much made of steel, survives (the foam pop filter itself is sandwiched between two sheets of steel mesh). I turn my ankle chasing the dogs, but it's not a bad turn so I soldier on.

Finally, I start recording. You won't hear the segment in which I manage to overturn my frosty beverage nearly on top of my decidedly not-waterproof netbook, because neither I nor the dogs approve of that sort of language. The netbook survives, by the way. Barely.

The dogs decide to insist on air time of their own by holding the Annual Yocona Mississippi Loud Barking For No Apparent Reason Finals two meters from my mic. Finally, I finish, and head back inside, dropping everything at least once.

Once back in the study, I check the audio file before transferring it from my netbook to this big rig. Here's what the audio filed sounded like:

PPPPHT.

That's right. One brief raspberry.

I checked the filename, the filesize, the date, the whole bit. It simply would not play.

Okay. This has happened before. Sometimes big files just throw the netbook into a funk. It's an Atom processor trying to choke down twelve minutes of uncompressed audio, right? Can't blame it for choking. So I move the audio files to my big machine, and voila! It works.

Well, half of it works. Right about the time I start reading from my Thor-savaged book, the file simply ends, and no amount of coaxing can restore it.

So I bite my tongue and decide to finish the Out on the Patio segment right here, behind my desk.

I go to shut off the big fan that sits behind me and blows on my back. When I do that, I manage to knock a book over on Lou Ann. This startles her, and she jumps, and I step back, and I twist the ankle I just twisted again, achieving the rare double-twisted torture joint score.

So it's been one of those days.

But the audio is out there! Here it is, the latest installment of Out on the Patio!

New Out on the Patio!

The Dog Days of Pear Summer

Today's blog entry is brought to you by dogs. And pears. And maybe a cloud or two.

But we'll start with Lou Ann, who is neither pear nor cloud, but all dog and proud of it.

That's Lou -- Lou Ann Tuttle, in full. She came to us from a shelter in Olive Branch, Mississippi four years ago, I think it was. I just took this picture, out on the patio.

Lou is part Shepherd and all Alpha Female. She's even got Thor under control, and Thor is easily twice her size. Maybe three times. But when Lou Ann lifts those ears and gives him that look, Thor sort of nods and accedes. Which is good, because (don't tell him I said this) Lou Ann is far more suited to be pack leader than Thor, who is still in goofy-puppy mode.

It's still hard for me to understand why someone put Lou in a shelter. Her time (and her number) were nearly up when we got her. She's a loving, well-behaved dog who is genuinely eager to please. Yeah, she's not a full-blooded anything, but for that matter, neither am I.

Next up in the non-sequitur parade are pears. Specifically, the pears produced by a scraggly five-dollar pear tree I bought on a whim at a big-box store years ago. It was a little more than chest high, hardly more than a weed, really. But now it is a pear-producing machine, people. Seriously. There are hundreds of not particularly beautiful but certainly very tasty pears hanging from this determined little tree right now. Here's a shot of just one branch:

Yes, I was after a pear when I took the photo of Lou Ann. Do I always take my camera when I go outside for a pear?

Yes, because if Bigfoot is at the tree again I want proof. 

Finally, a cloud. Or a bunch of clouds, doesn't matter, just take a good look at this, and tell me what you see!

I see a dog, running. Playing. Happy.

That was the cloud, over the pear tree, being watched by Lou Ann.

What does any of that mean?

Everything. Nothing. Sometimes a dog is just a dog, and a cloud is just a cloud.

And sometimes they're all a part of something far bigger.

I suppose that's up to you to decide.

Me, I'm going to eat a pear and rub Lou Ann's head and watch that dog romp across the sky.

Art For Each of Your 29 Eyes

I've been on an art spree for the last couple of weeks.

Maybe it's because I've gotten hooked on a couple of comics -- er, graphic novels. That's one huge advantage the Kindle Fire has over the e-ink models; I can download and read graphic novels that I just cannot find anywhere in Oxford.

Naturally, I've enjoyed The Walking Dead series, as well as a few other works. Sure, I still love books, but seeing characters come to life on the page as art is a pleasure all its own.

I even took a stab at designing my own cover. The result, which I'm still proud of, is below:

One characters I've wanted to see an image of for a long time is Mug. Mug, as you may know, is a character from my YA fantasy series (which includes the novel All the Paths of Shadow and the novella Saving the Sammi). Mug isn't a human, or even a biped. He is a snarky, sarcastic enchanted houseplant with 29 mobile eyes and a dead-seated fear of aphids.

Even armed with a modest array of powerful graphics manipulation programs, my attempts to create a passable image of Mug were, shall we say less than successful. Less than successful as in so embarrassing I won't post them here.

So I shelved the 'Let's draw Mug!' project. Sure, I could hire an artist, but I'm on a tight budget, and the derisive laughter of artists is hurtful.

As it happens, though, I did find an artist who I could afford. Her name is Laura LaRoche, and she works with an outfit called Hercules Editing and Consulting. Hercules did my book trailer last week, and when I mentioned I'd always wanted to see Mug, Laura agreed to take on the project.

So, I am happy to present to you, for the first time anywhere, Mugglesworth Verity Ovis, Tirlin's foremost authority on theoretical mathematics and problematic beetles:

I know. Ms LaRoche did a fantastic job. That's Mug, single yellow eye, five red eyes, assorted other hues looking on, bemused by all the attention.

That's not the only image of Mug, either. I've added a new area to my webpage, which contains a variety of images (Mug and others) which I've resized and made available as posters and downloadable desktop images.

They're all free. You can grab any or all of them, and use them as you wish. I am particularly fond of the posters.

So head on over to my new art gallery page and take anything you like! Here are a few small samples...

Like I said, all free, just click and save! Oh, and if anyone wants a desktop sized for a particular screen, just email me the dimensions and I'll cobble one together for you.

New Mug & Meralda novella! Book trailer release! Dancing elephants! S'mores!

It's a busy day today here at Casa Tuttle!

In just a few sentences, I'm going to announce the publication of a new Mug and Meralda novella. And I'm going to put up a link to the book trailer for All the Paths of Shadow. I'll even talk a bit about the new novel now in progress.

But first, a few words of thanks.

No matter how careful I am, typos rceep in two everY man-ewe-screept. And no number of thorough editing passes ever quite catches them all. In fact, I hereby propose a new Law of the Universe, which shall hereafter be known as Tuttle's Truthful Ratio of Typos to Effort, expressed thusly:

The number of undetected typographical errors in any manuscript is equal to the number of editing passes plus 1. Or maybe plus 3, or 6, or 16, depending on how ornery the Universe is feeling on any given day. 

In simpler terms, I suppose one could say of typos 'You never correct them all.'

Which is where beta readers come in. The purpose of a beta reader is threefold. The beta reader sees the complete and uncensored ineptitude of a writer, takes steps to point out the writer's errors, and then keeps this dreadful knowledge a secret, lest the writer be revealed for the quasi-literate poser they are.

So many thanks to my faithful beta reader Kellie, and now her husband Stephon and daughter Ava, who helped stamp out the scourge of missing letters and doubled quotation marks (and that is all I will admit to).

So, without further ado, I present to you the world premiere of the new Mug and Meralda novella, Saving the Sammi!

You can pick it up now at Amazon for a mere buck and a half. I'm working on a Nook version, and should have that ready later this week. I will of course let you know!

I enjoyed writing Saving the Sammi. Without giving away too much, it's a very straightforward adventure story, involving the rescue of the family trapped aboard a storm-stricken airship trapped in a deadly ascent. Market testing even among eight-year-olds (okay, a market of one, but still) placed it just below Harry Potter and possibly even with Warrior Cats, which I consider high praise indeed. Adults will enjoy it too!

So go grab a copy. It's a quick read, and you'll never look at a rowboat quite the same way again.

Now, for book trailer news! That's right, I have a book trailer, which is to a book what those ads before the movie starts are to motion pictures. My book trailer is for All the Paths of Shadow, and it was created by the fine people at Hercules Editing and Consulting. I heard about Hercules through a fellow author (thanks Elyse!), who said they did excellent work at prices authors can afford.

The phrase 'at prices authors can afford' is understood to mean 'whatever loose change you can shake out of the couch,' so I did some checking, liked what I saw, and hired Hercules to produce a short book trailer for All the Paths of Shadow. The result is lovely -- but hey, see for yourself!

Click here for the book trailer!

I love the trailer. So a huge thanks to Beth and Syd at Hercules!

I hope you enjoy Saving the Sammi and the book trailer for All the Paths of Shadow. Both represent a lot of work -- not so much by me on the book trailer, since my skills in that arena are limited to spelling the words 'book trailer,' but I know just enough to know putting it together wasn't easy. Writing Saving the Sammi was fun, and I learned a lot about airships and the early days of flight in the process. Mostly what I learned was you have to be a special kind of crazy to climb aboard a huge cloth envelope filled with hydrogen (the word hydrogen comes from the Greek hydro, which means 'wants to explode,' and gen, 'very very badly'). But climb aboard they did, usually while smoking big cigars, and for that, I salute them albeit from a safe distance.

So now it's time to get back to work on the new Meralda and Mug novel, All the Turns of Light. There may be another short story (or two, or three) released in the near future, depending on how work on the novel goes. Look for more airships in Turns of Light. Because darn it, I like airships.

I'd love to hear what any of you think about the story or the trailer! My email inbox is always open, so drop me a line at franktuttle@franktuttle.com.