Thriving Thursdays: It Could Be Raining

Welcome to another Thriving Thursday, everyone. I’m Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene here with a guest post for the Story Reading Ape. Since Chris Graham is my host for these monthly posts, I have disabled comments here. Please click over and say hello to the awesome Ape (click here).

Thriving Thursdays: It Could Be Raining

It’s hard to thrive when things get tough. During difficult situations, it’s hard to even think of your self in a positive way.

When you’re trying so hard, and still not seeing that silver lining — and people begin a response with “At least it’s not…(whatever)” it doesn’t make you feel much better, does it?

However, it can help to remember that you aren’t alone. Know there are people everywhere who are also trying to climb out of a hole of muck, or dig their way out of a pit of despair. They are trying to thrive. Just like you.

(My apologies if this video is not available in your area, or if commercials were added.)

So keep on trying.

Lately, I think even trying to try — that qualifies as trying too.

Wishing you a thriving Thursday,

Teagan

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam 2

Welcome back to Thistledown, everyone! If you are joining this serial for the first time, or if you need to refresh your memory click here for the premier episode. I also have a category button on the right side-bar of the screen for “Thistledown — Midsummer Bedlam.” However, these days I can’t make promises about WordPress behaving as it should. (For several days I found myself unable to comment on any blogs — including my own! WP just told me to email somebody else… Finally and laboriously got it fixed myself.)

Alex Iby, Unsplash

Writing Process

As a writer, I tend to reject rules. (Often things are presented as rules, but feel more like “formulas” than anything else. I don’t care for formulas either.) Although, when writing in a genre, (to a degree) I do try to follow some general expectations, for the comfort and understanding of readers.

So before anyone asks… When writing fantasy, I’m fond of using archaic forms of words. Hence my spelling of “faery.” I followed the lead of Brian Froud. Many people see him as an expert on fairies/faeries/fae. If you want to know more about the topic, click here or here.

I had expected to reveal Bedlam’s vision in this episode. However, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. It didn’t work out that way. That’s all part of pantsering.

About the Episode

The mystery folk from the first episode return for this one. However, several new characters are introduced. Be sure to click the links (like this) to reveal the mystery folk behind the character names.

This time we get an idea of what sort of gifts, talents, and magic the faeries of Thistledown might have in their daily lives.

Thistledown

Midsummer Bedlam 2

Trumpet Vine, by Manu via Wikimedia Commons free media repository

In the Kitchen

Smoke curled from the twin chimneys of the cottage where Peaches Dragonfly lived. I could see it a short distance away. The warm breeze brought the aroma of tarts Peaches had cooking in the oven. Even though my mouth watered, I couldn’t get my feet to move.

“Come on!” Peaches encouraged. “Bedlam Thunder what’s wrong?” she asked, letting go of my arm and giving me a concerned look.

My eyes had found the bright yellow flowers of the trumpet vine. A horrible idea sprang to my mind when I saw the blossoms. The vine bore the local news. I touched a petal, fearing it would shout my name.

“Extra! Extra! Get the Thistledown Trumpet here!” the flower cried. “Get the time and place of all the best Midsummer parties! Take a leaflet,” the blossom added encouragingly.

“Oh good,” murmured Peaches as she reached to pluck a curled leaf. Unrolling the leaf she read the list of parties before commenting, “Good, they got my information right. They mentioned that Pick is visiting. They even included that Holly Songbird will be singing! I had to ask them to update the announcement for that. I didn’t think I had given them the information in time. Perfect!”

I was relieved at not hearing my own name or anything about my awful vision. However, I still couldn’t manage to raise my eyes to look higher than the ground, or lift my feet to follow Peaches.

Yeshi Kangrang, Unsplash

“People are saying that the things in the vision I had will happen because of me — as if I’m going to make them happen. That it’s my fault. Or they just make fun of me. I haven’t been around much of anybody since River Mindshadow and I were suspended. That was so humiliating… I just haven’t wanted to deal with seeing anyone,” I explained, eyes still firmly fixed on my feet. “And I just can’t face River. It’s all my fault that she got suspended with me. I should have done something to stop it.”

It was hard to hold back tears. I was overwrought, I had been for days. Stellar the cat twined around my ankles consolingly. However, it took all my concentration to keep my composure, so I didn’t pet her. I sniffled and swallowed and sniffled some more before I could finally hold up my head.

Both Peaches and River stood watching me impatiently, fists planted firmly on hips. I was startled because I hadn’t even heard River come up to us. Peaches was tapping a foot. River’s wings were unfurled, so I knew she was about to leave.

“Bedlam, I’ve been given a curfew, a truly unreasonable one too. So I can’t stay, but I want you to know that none of this is your fault!” River told me in a firm voice. “Especially me getting suspended, or this curfew. If you say that again, I’ll be insulted. My analysis of your vision was mine to state. I made my own choices. You didn’t make them for me.”

I drew back. River’s reaction was not what I expected. I started babbling an apology, but she cut me off with a smile and a wave of her hand. Then she nudged me with her elbow.

“It’s alright. Go on inside and get a slice of tart. Pick Dragonfly already had two slices,” River said in a kinder voice before she zipped into the sky.

“Ha! My cousin has been accused of having hollow legs, a slim guy who is always hungry,” Peaches commented fondly as she waved to River. “He’s actually a good cook. That more than makes up for it.”

Bird Cherries tree vincent-van-zalinge-38365

Vincent Van Zalinge, Unsplash

Peaches drew me toward her cottage. Blackberry vines covered the roof. It was dotted with berries in various degrees of ripeness, white, red, purple, and black. The kitchen windowsill was lined with bread and pies set there to cool. The aroma of desserts in the oven was irresistible. The pink haired faery did not spare the ovens for her solstice celebrations.

As we neared her home, we had to stop for something most people would find unusual. A long line of red cherries rolled from the other side of the orchard. The cherries tumbled along, in single file across our path and through the open front door of her cottage.

Peaches shook her head and made a wry face. That was how her cousin Pick took care of the cherry picking chore when he visited. It was part of Pick’s gift, convincing the cherries to leave the tree and come to him.

“If I find a single bruise on those cherries…” Peaches muttered.

Different faeries had different talents or magical abilities, and to varying degrees. The school was meant to help us, from an early age, to develop our apparent talents, and to uncover hidden gifts. Some faeries had hardly any magic at all. Like me. I didn’t see my visions as any sort of talent, and they certainly weren’t magic.

I had hoped that going to the school would cause me to manifest a better talent. However, before my freshman term of senior level was finished, my visions got me suspended. I sighed without meaning to make a sound. Peaches gave me a sympathetic look before we went inside her home.

Her cottage had a huge kitchen — the largest room in the house. The way Peaches baked, that was a necessity.

Across the room, the first thing I saw was a uniquely lovely flower arrangement. It contained the most unexpected combination of things, with all manner of wildflowers, and even stems of cotton bowls.

Cotton plant circa 1901, Wikimedia

However, I stumbled to a halt the moment I stepped through the doorway. The cherries continued to roll until they went into a basket beside the sink. Pick Dragonfly carried not just one, but three plates to the sink. Yet none of those things were what caused me to stop in my tracks.

I faced the long kitchen table, mouth agape. All of the people I admired most in Thistledown were gathered in my friend’s kitchen. They weren’t the official council, but they were highly respected people.

The fae at the other end of the table sat head and shoulders above the rest. He was known far and wide as the furry faery, Field Yewwasp. The huge table looked ordinary next to him. I knew the large top hat on the coat rack had to belong to Field. Wire rimmed spectacles with rose colored lenses sat on his nose. The red jacket he wore was perfectly tailored for his large frame. I supposed that if your size and hair automatically drew attention to you, then you would want to be well dressed.

Ember Beamwitch sat at Field’s left. The flowers in her hair bobbled when she looked up at us. The fiery colored print of her dress had a soft radiance even in the daylight. After dark it would give a fanciful glow. A voluminous sleeve swayed gracefully when she raised her hand to wave at me. Ember would judge the dance competition that Peaches planned to include in her Midsummer celebration.

One of the spectacles of the Midsummer gathering would be worked by Catseye Glimmer. From practically nothing, Catseye could create fun and useful things. I suspected that he would somehow make the dance floor, and that his creation of it would kick-off the party.

At seeing these enormously respected fae, I was a nervous wreck, on top of being an emotional basket case. My eyes were wide with shock. I stood speechless even when someone bade me sit down at the table. That’s when I had one more shock than I could handle. I dazedly realized the person offering me a seat was Calico Rainbowforest. She ran the Thistledown Trumpet News!

Oh no, I thought. This is horrible. What if she puts my vision in the news? She’ll probably agree with everyone else. What if she blames every bad thing on me, like some people are doing?

“Oh dear. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Calico spoke in a kind voice. “Poor Bedlam, I know what you’ve been through. Did you know that the Readings Master suspended me once too?”

That admission got my surprised attention. I couldn’t imagine Calico Rainbowforest getting into trouble at school, but she grinned and nodded.

“It wasn’t that long ago, you know. I believe you and I are more alike than you’d expect. That man just seemed to take an instant dislike to me. Anyway… I would very much like to hear the story in your own words,” she requested and paused as if waiting for my answer. When I didn’t speak she continued, “Whenever you’re feeling ready to talk about it. I’d just listen, mind you, nothing more. Then if everyone here agreed that it was safe to share with Thistledown, only if you approved would I put it in the Trumpet.

At that moment I knew Calico was saying something, because I could see her mouth moving. However, I was already intimidated by the individuals who sat around Peaches’ table. Plus I was downright paranoid about the Trumpet. I was slow to absorb Calico’s words. It seemed like I heard her voice from far away.

Fairy_Islands_1916_by_Ida_Rentoul_Outhwaite

Fairy Islands, 1916, Ida Rentoul Outhwaite, Wikimedia

Faeries have a fight or flight reflex — quite literally. Mine abruptly kicked-in, and my wings unfolded before I knew what was happening. My wayward wings knocked a honeydew melon off a sideboard. The honeydew hit the floor in an explosive crash of seeds, juice, and melon flesh. It splattered half the people at the table.

I jumped backward in my agitation. One of my wings caught painfully on the doorjamb. I gasped and turned, not understanding what was causing the pain. My wing started to tear as I moved.

In the recesses of my mind I heard more than one person scream “No!” They could see what I was too distressed to understand — that I was about to do serious harm to myself if I moved.

I was vaguely aware of seeing Catseye Glimmer stand. He turned to the unique flower arrangement behind his seat. Quickly he picked a stem with several cotton bowls. He whispered to the plant and flexed his fingers in an impossible looking motion. Then he threw it toward me.

The stem sailed past, an inch from touching me. It transformed to a soft cushion the size of the doorway, gently preventing me from moving or doing serious damage to my wing.

“Goodness, she looks like she’ll swoon!” Ember Beamwitch exclaimed. “Here Bedlam, sit down.”

As if he had the same thought as Ember, Pick Dragonfly handed me a glass of chilled water.

Ember put the first two fingers of her right hand to the “third eye” area of my forehead. A soft glow emanated from her hand. After a second I felt a wonderful cool sensation and I no longer felt faint.

I was suddenly aware of Field Yewwasp bending over me. Everyone else had been between the furry faery and me. How could someone so large move so fast that I didn’t even see him? As I looked at him in confusion, he asked if I was all right.

“You’d best stay earthbound, rather than fly, until that heals,” Field advised.

The big pain in my wing seemed disproportionate to what was actually a small tear. Calico unexpectedly drew a tiny jar of ointment from her pocket. She gave me a sardonic smile.

“Bedlam, my flight skills aren’t any better than yours. I’ve learned to keep first aid with me,” Calico confessed. “May I?” she asked indicating the ointment.

I nodded, still mute. The ointment did lessen the pain. I drank from the water Pick gave me. Wide-eyed, I gazed in amazement at the kindness of the people around me. However, a most unpleasant sensation reverberated through my head. I shook my head to clear the ringing, but it wouldn’t stop.

Wikimedia

***

I hope you clicked the links to reveal the mystery folk. Additions to the cast for this episode include characters named by Hollyberye, Colleen Chesebro, Chris Graham, Mary J. Mccoy-Dressel, and Tim Price.

Fly back to Teagan’s Books next time to reveal new mystery folk and see what happens in episode three.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.

Get Caught Reading — The Sign of the Ape 4 (2016 Rerun Conclusion)

Image courtesy of Chris Graham

Welcome, one and all — to this re-run of last year’s Get Caught Reading mini-series. Without further ado, here’s the conclusion!

***

It’s been fun participating in Get Caught Reading Month. I hope my zany and bizarre story encouraged people of all ages to read. Last week my real-world schedule caused me to put blogging on the shelf. But look what grand company I had, thanks to Chris Graham!

When we left our heroes…

As many of you know, a few elite bloggers (and their pets) banded together with one quest — catch the Story Reading Ape reading. During the first chapter, I found a shimmering airship outside my window. The pilot looked suspiciously like Cornelis Drebbel. Before I knew it, I was in Time Square beginning a chase to “catch” the Story Reading Ape in the act of reading.

In Chapter 2 Suzanne from A Pug in the Kitchen and I met a number of author-bloggers (and their pets) who joined the quest to catch the illusive Ape. Mary J. McCoy-Dressel , Christoph Fischer, John W. Howell, and blogger Dan Antion.

Then last time a new duo was added to the intrepid band of bloggers – Hugh Roberts and adorable Toby. But to the astonishment of our intrepid band, everyone became anime characters when Cornelis Drebbel’s alchemy went wrong. Now for the conclusion of The Sign of the Ape.

Sign of the Ape 4

Image courtesy of Chris Graham

Toby barked frantically at the pavement and scratched at it with his little paws. Doubtless, the dog could hear John W. Howell, Dan Antion, and their pets in the tunnel beneath the street. Finally, Hugh couldn’t take seeing the Corgi so upset. He jumped back onto the big construction loader and started digging a hole in the road — much to the dismay of the drivers in the area.

My phone buzzed at me. When I answered, I was greeted with a loud chorus of meowing from Annette Rochelle Aben’s cats. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. And yes, that did remind me of the fuzzy ears and long tail that came with the anime version of me. I shot Cornelis Drebbel a nasty look and muttered that I’d get him for it. Then a second call got patched onto the meow-wow. The four naughty chimps translated for Annette’s kitties via text message.

“You’ve got to figure out how to get to London. The Story Reading Ape is there. He left Tokyo before your airship even touched down!” came the message from the chimps.

London? Well the chimps should know. They were tight with the Ape. But London? I hadn’t figured out how to stop being an anime yet! How could I possibly get to London? I sure couldn’t go as an anime — and especially not in that horrid schoolgirl uniform!

Although I was rather shocked that Mary J. McCoy-Dressel and Suzanne DeBrango seemed to take their cartoon situation in stride. Their dogs, Kasha and Percy, didn’t seem to think it was worth barking about. Maybe I would feel differently if I were a beautiful goddess or a cute giant-robot-driving future girl, I thought. I steamed and stewed… I’d never forgive Cornelis for putting me in such an outfit.

Toby caught reading

Toby gave an excited yip and Hugh turned off the loader. Once again I heard that crazy, funky guitar music of the original James Bond theme. Then a sports car roared up through the big hole dug by the construction loader.

Thanks again Chris!

John W. Howell and Dan Antion, along with dogs Lucy and Maddie, and MiMi the tuxedo cat were in the sports car. Oddly I could have sworn I saw the Boxer, Lucy driving the car. But who am I to say that was strange. After all, I was an anime schoolgirl with cat ears and a tail…

Lucy, who owns John W. Howell

I could see Dan wave from the back seat that everyone in the car was okay. John leaned out of the passenger window. He had a weird looking guitar. I asked where he got it.

Maddie who owns Dan Antion

MiMi caught reading

“A strange taxi driver with bushy eyebrows gave this guitar to me,” John told me. “But no matter what notes I strum, it will only play that James Bond theme,” he added and played the chorus to demonstrate.

However, the music abruptly changed to the Goldfinger theme. Glittering clouds of golden dust formed in the sky. John put down the guitar, but it continued to play. The golden dust settled on everyone (and every pet) who had become anime.

I felt my stomach expand and contract like the beginning of a very unfortunate gastritis attack. The most embarrassingly loud belch escaped my lips. However, everyone else produced similar burps, so I was a little less mortified. We were anime no longer, but the dratted costumes remained. I muttered a new curse to Cornelis Drebbel about my uniform.

“Thank heavens you’re a redhead again,” John Howell commented. “The raven locks were nice, but it just wasn’t right.”

Then with sharp popping sounds, one by one, my friends began to disappear. Frightened beyond reason, I screamed at the alchemist for an explanation.

“My dear, do calm down,” he said in that droll voice. “Everyone is perfectly safe. I sent each of them directly to their homes,” the alchemist explained as I stammered and tried to ask why. “Darling, remember it is Get Caught Reading Month. May is almost over! How can they read anything if they are trotting around the globe with you? And you still haven’t finished “The Sign of the Four” for that matter,” he told me, adding a tsk-tsk sound for good measure.

Cornelis took my hand and suddenly we were inside the giant robot. “I’ve always wanted to pilot one of these,” he confessed with a giggle. “Next stop, London!”

As Cornelis flew the alchemically powered robot, I wandered, exploring the many nooks and crannies. It was more spacious than I expected. The sound of deeply pitched chuckling caused me to stop in my tracks. I strained to hear. It seemed to be only one voice, like someone talking on the phone. Ever so carefully I moved closer.

“You four truly are naughty,” the voice rumbled. “Sending all those bloggers on such a wild goose chase. Although I must admit, a free ride back to London in a magical giant robot is a memorable adventure. I will see you naughty rascals when I get home, but for now I have reading to catch up on. I think Gwydion may have just gone too far for Ralda to forgive him. I really must see what happens next in Atonement, Tennessee“

With a silent gasp I realized the Story Reading Ape was hiding right under my nose! I removed my cell phone from my skirt pocket and switched on the camera. I crept around the corner… Gotcha!

As I checked the image, the spoils of my victory, my long tail swished in a self-satisfied rhythm.

…Tail? I looked behind myself. The tail was still there…

“Cornelis Drebbel!” I yelled.

Here ends The Sign of the Ape.

***********************

Thanks to all of you for tuning-in for this zany chase. I’m glad you were “caught reading” here at Teagan’s Books. As you know, this is a workday, so I might be delayed in answering comments.

Special thanks to all the bloggers who participated in this madcap adventure — and to their pets as well!

The Sign of the Ape, furry family cast

Row 1: Percy, Crystal, Lucy, Kasha

Row 2: Claudius, Oh Kitty, and Sweeney, and Toby

Row 3: Wilma, Greta, Maddie, MiMi

All images are either the property of the author or from Pinterest unless stated otherwise.

Special mention to Christopher Graham for the marvelous “Atonement, Tennessee” images.

Thriving Thursdays: We Rise

Hello everyone, I’m Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene, taking a moment to lift you up, to help you thrive. What better place for me to do that than from the marvelous tree-house of the Story Reading Ape?

Thriving Thursdays: We Rise

1928-december-life-balloon-man

Sometimes I feel de-motivated, denied, discounted, discombobulated, or any other de or dis that nobody enjoys. However, there is one thing that always helps me change that feeling so that I can thrive — and that is motivating someone else. If I work at lifting someone else’s spirits, or promoting them in some way, I find that I’ve also motivated myself.

We rise by lifting others… Robert Ingersoll

I’m not able to return comments at both blogs today, so please visit here and say hello to the Ape and all the naughty chips at the tree-house. We’d love to hear from you.

Wishing you a thriving Thursday.

Mega hugs,

Teagan

Get Caught Reading — The Sign of the Ape 2 (2016 Rerun)

#GetCaughtReadingMonth

Hello everyone. As you may have noticed I’m rerunning last year’s mini-series. It’s about the escapades of our intrepid band of bloggers and their pets. That was how I participated in Get Caught Reading Month. After May I’ll get back to my usual posting schedule.

This when I’m not working at my “real” job, I’ll be working on a short story to follow-on the story Chris Graham shared with us in my previous post. So, I’ve disabled comments today. The comments from last year are still there.

I hope you’ll visit the bloggers included in this post. Now for the rerun. Enjoy!

Image courtesy of Chris Graham

The month of May is a lovely time of year. It’s also Get Caught Reading (GCR) Month. As many of you know, I’m doing a midweek mini-series in support of this public service campaign. The intention of GCR is to encourage people of all ages to read, and that is what bloggers do with every post. So this fictional, fanciful story includes an intrepid band of bloggers.

Have you caught me reading any sort of novel? Why yes you have — the novel that inspired the title of this mini-series, Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign of the Four. The plot has nothing to do with my story though. I was not ambitious enough to try and follow the footsteps of Sherlock Holmes. You can get The Sign of the Four free here.

Last Time

During the first chapter I found a shimmering airship outside my window. The pilot looked suspiciously like Cornelis Drebbel. Before I knew it, I was in Time Square beginning a chase to “catch” the Story Reading Ape reading.

At Times Square I glimpsed something very large and very furry carrying a book. He bounded around the corner. I ran to the spot, but he was long gone. Then on the sidewalk I saw a banana. It had to be the sign of the ape.

The Sign of the Ape — Chapter 2

How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?

Sherlock Holmes, The Sign of the Four Chap. 6, p. 111

“Percy and I will meet you at Madame Tussaud’s Celebrity Wax Museum,” Suzanne from A Pug in the Kitchen had promised.

I had thought the blogger-chef was the only person in New York that I knew. However, at the famous wax museum I entered a gallery with a marque announcing a new exhibit called Fictional Heroes. I saw familiar faces.

Kasha reading about Michigan lighthouses

The first thing I noticed was a cowboy who seemed oddly familiar to me. When I saw author Mary J. McCoy-Dressel I understood why — it was Tristan Carlson, from Cowboy Boss and His Destiny. Or rather it was a wax version of him.

Excited barking greeted me. It was Kasha, Mary’s fur baby. Kasha stopped for me to pet her, but then tried to run out to the hallway. Mary of course caught her.

However, something four footed may have been what interested Kasha. In came two large curly haired dogs. Mary said she wondered what they were. A smile slowly spread across my face as I recognized another statue — Ben Andrews of The Gamblers.

“I believe those would be Laboradoodles, and I think you’re about to meet Christoph Fischer,” I told her just as the writer walked into the room.

Greta and Wilma caught reading

Then I heard the funky guitar music of the original James Bond theme. I looked back at the collection of wax heroes. Was there a spy or thriller hero among them? I didn’t recognize the statue at first. However, Kasha was sniffing at one. I saw the wax man was the hero of the John J. Cannon Trilogy, by John W. Howell.

It was odd about the music… Was it my imagination? I gave my head a shake. However, I forgot about it when a moment later, Percy the Pug led Suzanne into the exhibit. Seeing the blogger-chef reminded me… The opening of the exhibit was shaping up to be such a great party that for a moment I almost forgot the strange events that brought me there.

“Did you happen to see John W. Howell, out there?” I asked Suzanne, motioning to the hallway.

Lucy digging

“Oh, that must have been the man with the boxer. I thought he looked familiar,” she replied. “They were just outside. The dog was trying to dig up something. She was really persistent about it.”

That was odd. I knew John’s pets were well behaved. I wondered what was going on with Lucy. However, my thoughts were interrupted when all the dogs started barking furiously. Suzanne deftly picked little Percy up in her arms. The other dogs tore out of the exhibit, their author owners running frantically behind them.

As the dogs left, I noticed it on the floor near the wax figures. The sign of the ape — a ripe yellow banana. I picked up the banana, examining it carefully. I saw nothing unusual about it. There was no clue or suggestion of where the Story Reading Ape had gone. I followed the sound of barking to another gallery.

A single display was far larger than all the rest, taking up an entire wall. Everyone was transfixed by that figure. It was a wax exhibit of the Ape himself. The dogs stopped barking, but Kasha, Greta, and Wilma sniffed every inch of the exhibit. Percy struggled until Suzanne finally let him down to join the others.

“What has them so excited?” Christoph Fischer asked as he moved closer to Greta and Wilma to make sure they weren’t at risk.

I explained to him about the chase to catch the Story Reading Ape reading. Meanwhile I examined the display closely, or at least as much of it as I could reach. Christoph, being taller than the rest of us inspected the higher portions. However, we found no clues, nothing that would lead me to the Ape. The dogs had stopped their sniffing. Apparently they had lost his trail.

Christoph’s Laboradoodles moved over to me. I petted the dogs, amazed by their soft curly fur. I wasn’t sure which was Greta and which was Wilma, but they were both adorable. Soon the authors were called back to their exhibit. I was able to quickly introduce Suzanne to Christoph and Mary before the authors had to return to their exhibit.

I detained them long enough to ask if any of them had met John Howell yet. Apparently John never came inside the museum. That made me uneasy, so I went looking for the Texas based author.

To my surprise, Percy followed me. A moment later Suzanne ran behind the pug to catch him. As I rounded a corner I all but collided with a tall man.

MiMi reading for a clue

“Dan Antion?” I exclaimed in surprise.

It turned out Dan was in New York to meet John W. Howell and see his John Cannon wax statue. Dan carried a small kennel, from which I heard a meow. I asked if he always traveled with one of his cats.

“MiMi has been acting really clingy and… just strange,” he confessed. “I could have sworn I heard her meowing back and forth with some other cats, but she was alone. Then she got one of my books. She slapped my hand when I tried to take it away from her. I thought it was best to take her with me.”

I suspected Annette‘s cats had called Dan’s for a meow-wow, just as they had called Crystal. Then I heard barking from a new canine voice. Dan looked around worriedly and muttered something I didn’t catch. Suddenly I realized he must have brought his dog too.

Maddie on the trail

“Maddie!” he called and then whistled as we all moved toward the barking.

Outside the museum was a small landscaped area. Percy ran to a sizable hole in the ground there. Dan’s Irish Setter had already gone into the hole, but she ran back out when Dan called her. At that point I realized the hole wasn’t simply a hole, but a tunnel.

Then I heard it again… It sounded far away and muffled, but I could hear the funky James Bond guitar music again. The music seemed to move gradually farther away. Percy wagged his little tail and gave a yip, as if he meant to say everything was as it should be. Suzanne and I exchanged puzzled looks.

“I think John and Lucy are down there,” I told them.

Before you could say boo, Dan along with Maddie and MiMi, went into the tunnel after John W. Howell. Suzanne tightened her grip on Percy’s leash, but the pug didn’t try to follow the others.

“It might be dangerous — especially for just one person,” Dan called from the tunnel. “I’d better go after John and Lucy.”

A taxi rolled up. It was the same driver that brought me to the wax museum, the same driver who looked a lot like the pilot of the airship — I mean the man who looked an awful lot like Cornelis Drebbel. Suzanne’s eyes widened.

Percy reads Pug Hill

“It’s him isn’t it?” she exclaimed. “It’s the alchemist. How did you bring Cornelis Drebbel here?” she asked in astonishment.

I told her that he was actually the one who brought me. At that point I had to admit to myself that the driver/pilot truly was Cornelis Drebbel. Yes, I had been in denial. As Sherlock Holmes said, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” My driver and pilot had been Cornelis Drebbel, the alchemist.

Cornelis began to flirt outrageously with Suzanne. The two were having such a good time, I didn’t mean to be a wet blanket. However, all I could think about was the fact that I had no idea where to look next for the Story Reading Ape. Then I realized I still had the banana, the sign of the ape. I took a closer look at it. There was a little sticker, a brand mark, but the writing was Japanese.

Cornelis looked askance. I showed him the sticker.

“Oh yes, I know this market. It’s in Tokyo,” he said, but I gave him a blank stare. “That’s your next clue. Come along now. Get in the car. We need to take the dirigible to get there,” he added and I mutely got into the cab.

“Well m’lady? May I have the honor?” Cornelis spoke to Suzanne and she and Percy eagerly got into the taxi.

“Did you say dirigible? That sounds like a slow way to get to Japan,” Suzanne commented. “Cornelis, are you going to use magic?” she asked with a grin.

Cornellis merely wriggled his bushy eyebrows.

I cringed. This couldn’t be good.

“Where is that blond?” Cornelis asked hopefully.

“Do you mean Mary J. McCoy-Dressel?” I wanted to know.

“Well yes, we have a brunette and a redhead,” Cornelis said as if explaining to a child. “It would work better if we also had a blond too.”

That of course made no sense at all to me. However, as if on cue, I heard barking and Kasha bounded up to Cornelis. Mary ran after her dog, but looked at Cornelis Drebbel in shock.

“Is he?” she began and I nodded.

“Cornelis, what would work better?” I demanded as a queasy feeling formed in my stomach. “Cornelis Drebbel, you’re not planning some complicated alchemy are you?”

The alchemist wriggled his bushy eyebrows again. This really, really couldn’t be good.

***

End Chapter 2

If you remember Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers, then you know Cornelis Drebbel’s magic had a tendency to go awry. Between the alchemist and the Ape, what will happen to our intrepid band of bloggers in Tokyo? And what about John and Dan (and their pets)? We left them in that tunnel. Come back for the next midweek episode to find out.

All images are either the property of the author or from Pinterest unless stated otherwise.

Time Travel Esc-Ape

Gotcha! Caught you blog reading. It’s Get Caught Reading Month — a nationwide campaign to remind people of all ages how much fun it is to read. Last year I did a zany series where an intrepid band of bloggers (and their pets!) tried to catch the illustrious Story Reading Ape in the act of reading. I’m rerunning those posts midweek, through May.

In case you didn’t know, Chris Graham is quite the story telling ape as well. You can get to know Chris better at his blog.

The Ape has honored us with a new short story! And he has included Pip, from The Three Things Serial Story. When I saw what Chris wrote I knew I had to make this a two-part post. So be looking for my part of this collaboration next weekend. Now without further ado, here’s a story from Chris Graham, the Story Reading Ape.

FORWARD to the PAST

Some weeks ago, while Chris, The Story Reading Ape was away, the Naughty Chimps took the opportunity to enjoy a bit of Nit Picking.

“You’ve been at the Honey Ants’ tree again, haven’t you, Cedric?”

“I suppose it’s the sticky clumps of hair that’s given the game away Malcolm?”

“Well, it wasn’t your ‘sweet nature’ – Har, Har”

Meanwhile, Aristotle the Scientific Genius, (Artie for short), was catching up with a bit of sleep.

He’d been working hard on the Time Machine he intended using to go back to the 1920’s and meet Paisley Idelle Peabody, aka Pip.

Ever since reading about her adventures in the Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920’s Story, by Teagan Riordain Geneviene, he was determined to visit her and join in the fun.

The main problem was, the darn thing only went forwards in time, and only returned back to one second after he’d left and about 19 miles to the west for some reason. So he had to drag the thing back home every time he used it.

This was a great source of amusement to the others.

So he was hoping that a good nap would help his overworked brain sort out all the possibilities and arrive at an answer.

Many Zzzzzz’s later…

Artie woke up suddenly to the sound of the other chimps calling out his name.

“Wake up Artie – There’s a visitor here to see you – says he’s made a special trip to talk to you!”

Artie yawned, stretched, fell off his branch, sat up on the grass, scratched his armpit and opened his eyes to see someone watching. Someone who looked like his old Granddad.

“About time too, you lazy young chimp. How anything ever got made by you is beyond me,” barked the old one.

“Wazzup Grandad? I wasn’t really asleep, I was deep in ponderating thought!”

“Mind your manners and don’t try that excuse on me, you young rascal. I know exactly what you do during your ‘ponderating’ moments – I’ve come to tell you to stop wasting your time trying to go back to the 1920s!”

“Wadyamean, wasting my time – when I’ve solved the problems, I’ll be FAMOUS.”

“Oh, you’ll be famous ok, but for being such a Silly Billy for taking so long to figure out where you’ve been going wrong!”

“What do YOU know about it then GRANDAD?”

“Because, I’m YOU, from the future!”

Artie just stared agog at the old chimp as a myriad of thoughts whizzed through his mind.

“If you’re ME from the future, then it means I’ve solved the problem of Time Travel – YIPPEE!”

“Not so fast Knucklehead – you’ll never be able to travel back any further than the time you first started the Machine.”

“I don’t understand, why can’t I travel back further?”

“Because no Time Machines existed before then, so there are no connections in the Time/Space Continuum for you to use beyond that time,” explained the Old Artie.

“So THAT’S why I’m able to go FORWARDS in time, but always return to one second after I’ve departed?”

“Yes, and that’s also why you and the Machine always end up about 19 miles away to the West.” Old Artie confirmed.

“Earth revolves around the Sun at a speed of about 18.5 miles/sec (30 km/sec), plus, it rotates at about 0.25 miles/sec (0.46 km/sec),” Old RT explained, “Add the two together and the Earth has moved forwards AND rotated, about 18.75 miles in that one second”.

Young Artie’s legs gave way and he sat down with a thud. “So, I’ll never get to actually meet Pip?”, he cried plaintively.

“I’m afraid not – however, you CAN keep up date with her adventures, by tuning into Teagan’s blog every week and reading her ‘Little 1920’s Stories’ books.”

“That’s why I decided to risk everything by coming back to stop you wasting any more time on the Machine – I regret not spending more time reading.”

“But what will happen to YOU if I stop working on the Time Machine?” asked Young Artie.

“I’ll cease to exist as I currently am, but YOU will become a better old version when you reach my age” laughed Old Artie before he suddenly disappeared with a soft popping sound.

Nowadays, young Artie can often be found reading Teagan’s blog posts and books, as the Time Machine slowly gathers dust, termites and vines…

***

The end

***

Blue Lucille Ball Stage Door Trailer

“Hey, Teagan! Come on and wake up. Look, I know that nasty allergy-asthma thing has made you pos-i-lutely miserable for the past month. I know you’re exhausted from it, but get your head back to the Jazz Age. It’s me, Pip! Oh, horsefeathers!”

“Miss! Whatever is the matter? I could hear you all the way in my submarine… But the writer isn’t going to hear you. Her creative thoughts are as displaced as my scull.”

“Hey mister, who do you think you are, wriggling those bushy blonde eyebrows at me? But I guess you are sort of a sheik, in your own way. Oh, but poor Artie! Did you hear all that. The poor thing, trying so hard to meet me.”

“Now, now… surely it can’t be that bad. Although Artie does rather remind me of someone I once knew. Although that fellow’s complexion had an purplish cast… But wait. What’s that they have under all those vines? Oh my! Is that really a time machine? My dear, I am most intrigued. I think this situation warrants closer examination.”

“Oh, you are the cat’s pajamas, Mister erm…?”

“Cornelis Drebel, at your service, miss.”

***

The beginning

***

Lord have mercy… It looks like my characters are crossing over story-lines and conspiring on their own. Stay tuned for next time. Same flapper time. Same flapper channel. Mega hugs!

Image by Chris Graham

All images are either the property of the author or from Pinterest unless stated otherwise.

Thriving Thursdays: What Scares You?

Thanks to Chris the Story Reading Ape once again for inviting me to be a guest at the tree-house. This post is already live there, but I want to re-share it here too. (Click here.)

Of course every day I wish for you to thrive. However, Thursday is the day I make a big deal over it. So here I go again!

If something truly frighten us it’s huge (at least to us). Oddly enough, those big fears can be overcome by small things. One little step at a time, one day at a time, gradually.

When you see yourself overcoming part of a fear each day it will lift you up — you will thrive. To quote one of my favorite people in history…

Do one thing that scares you every day… Eleanor Roosevelt

BrainyQuote

Wishing you a thriving Thursday.

Mega hugs,

Teagan

Teagan's Books

Now available: "Three Things Serial, a Little 1920s Story"

Tag Archives: The Story Reading Ape

Thriving Thursdays: It Could Be Raining