An Introduction to HORROR at The Other Shoe

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[caption id="attachment_2203" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Daniel Hanning of The Other Shoe[/caption]

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              Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Today is Tuesday March 4^th, 2014. As many of you are aware, two weeks ago I suffered, greatly, with high fevers, a painful and deep raspy cough, terrible aches, pains, and sleepless nights all due to a horrific upper respiratory infection. My doctor, once again proving what a great doctor and partner he is in the care of my health, prescribed a ten day course of antibiotics. I took all the medication, and at the end I honestly felt I had beat this infection.

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However, starting this past Sunday I saw the return of the fevers. On Monday the fever raised to 101.2 and the cough returned. Today, I find myself with the aches and pains, the fever, the awful raspy cough and difficulty sleeping. In spite of the, obvious, return of the dreaded infection I am working every day to keep you, My Dear Readers, informed on the terrible conflict in the Ukraine. This is an important international conflict and one that, I feel, greatly mirrors the early years of our nation.

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That is not the limit of the work I am writing, and last night… the fevers became my muse. I have still to write and tell you of the vision my fevers gave me the last time. It was on a Tuesday night that, after two years absence, Princess Nadia… visited me! I will not say much more than that, for the event is a story that I am dying to tell you, all by itself. I had a similar experience last night. Only this time… I was given a clear vision that will appear in my very first horror article here at The Other Shoe.

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As I explained, on Facebook, I have created a rotation of articles for the future of The Other Shoe. Meaning, Mondays will be reserved for The Mars Report, Tuesday will be reserved for Political articles, Wednesday ‘The Adventures of Princess Nadia’, Thursday will see the publication of Horror, Friday is an open day for what ever is in the news or strikes my fancy, Saturday will be for Science and ‘A Week in Review’ and Sunday for ‘Sunday Funnies’ and anything pertaining to Alexander R Hanning. I have implemented this routine for two reasons. First, to give my blog a direction and a regular beat for you, My Dear Readers. Second, I implement this routine to help me become a better and better writer.

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I know that I have a lot to learn about the art of writing. I feel, strongly, that I have a ‘Gift with Words’. Many people, that have cared deeply for me... loved me… have told me that in those exact words. On stage, many directors and fellow actors told me I had a way of breathing life into scripts and into words.

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That is not enough. I simply must improve my style, learn more of the tricks of the trade of writing. Most of all, I simply must mature as a writer. I cannot afford classes… in my current medical condition… I cannot attend college… unless online (!). Once I have found a way to further my education in creative writing, I have to attend seminars… and learn how to publish! How to attract publishers, how to package my work properly, how to network in my chosen field of artistic expression. I want to do this to improve my life… improve my life with Allen, and help remove the great burden he is under providing for me and helping me every day to; eat, bathe, do laundry, clean the house, walk… get dressed.

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As well, My Dear Readers, I want to do this for YOU! I want to improve my skills, refine my art so that I can give you, My Dear Readers, an improved and more refined reading experience. Yes, I want a better lifestyle… I want to make money by writing. That is not my #1 goal. Greed does not motivate my art, nor does greed poison my artistic expression. I owe it to Allen, to my family, to my friend and to you My Dear Readers.

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I am still experiencing difficulties making ends meet. I do without food… many days eating only one meal. I manage to pay my rent in full and on time. I hate to burden you, My Dear Readers. I genuinely fear that even mentioning these difficulties… taints what I do. However, in all things I must be truthful. One thing that I am not (even in spite of myself and often to my own detriment) I am NOT a liar. Either by willful act or through omission, I do not LIE!

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Well, now with all of that out of the way (and “Thank you!” for your patience) I want to share an excerpt of the very first work of horror I plan to publish here at The Other Shoe. Now, this excerpt does not contain any of the elements of horror. I am keeping my content very close to my heart. Nothing of the suspense, nothing of the horrific elements… will I share here today. However, it is my desire to, this Thursday, to publish Part One of ‘The Horror of Smithville’!

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Now, without further adieu, here is an excerpt from ‘The Horror of Smithville’

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“Timmy Marref lived on a farm outside Smithville. Smithville was a little town smack dab in the middle of America. Timmy’s father, Kenneth Marref, worked the farm as his father did before him and his grandfather did before that and his great-grandfather did before him. From what Timmy could gather the Marref’s had worked this land for more than 100 years. Timmy didn’t mind living on a farm. As a matter of fact, more times than not, Timmy just downright loved living on the farm.

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Now, to be honest Timmy didn’t know much about what you would call city life. Timmy had never lived in or near any big cities. But tenet had seen pictures of big cities, like New York City. He’d seen pictures of the tallest skyscrapers packed floor on top of floor on top of floor with more and more and more people. He had seen pictures of the streets packed elbow-to-elbow block after block after block with people lined up like sardines in a can. It made 10 a shutter to think of having to live like a sardine in a can.

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Timmy loved the fresh air of the great outdoors, the smell of a oncoming rainstorm, and the crunch of new fallen snow under the heel of his boots. Now, don’t get me wrong, Timmy knew full well that if given the chance he wouldn’t mind staying in a moderate to slightly large town like capital of the state. He had thought about that, often, because even at 12 years of age Timmy knew he really wanted to go to college. It wasn’t that Timmy was afraid of a life working hard on the farm, like his father and his father’s father and his father’s father’s father before him. Timmy wasn’t afraid of the hard work it was just that Timmy, as an adult, when it to do more for his parents and his family that he could as a farmer.

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Timmy’s father, Kenneth, didn’t pull punches when he talked at the dinner table about what it was to be a farmer in America today. The farm was not a very big farm. His father grew mostly corn, beans, pumpkins, lettuce and cabbage. Timmy’s father wasn’t much for the idea of only growing one thing. Ken use to tell Timmy “If the good Lord had meant for me to grow corn, and nothing else, he would’ve made us all so that we all   would be full just eating corn.” Their farm also had different kinds of animals.”

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That, My Dear Readers, is just the first few paragraphs of what I hope is a short story – novella here at The Other Shoe. Not since boyhood (age 8-10) have I written horror. This will be my very first venture into this genre, as an adult. I look forward to publishing Part One this Thursday. I hope that you are all here to join me in this premier.

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As always I am deeply honored that you come here and read my work.

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Thank YOU!

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[caption id="attachment_2296" align="aligncenter" width="225"] The Other Shoe's Daniel Hanning[/caption]