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List of 15,000+ HubPages registered members.
HubPages.com is an open community of passionate people—writers, explorers, knowledge seekers, conversation starters etc. A place where people write for the joy of it. But writing is just the beginning. At HubPages you can create. You can inform. You can interact. You can converse. Publish a well-edited article, and Share and show your interests in a myriad of ways. Over 35 million people explore HubPages every month
We have extracted over 15,000+ HubPages members who show strong interest in Reading, based on these related topics; books, audiobooks, eBooks, novels, creative writing, essays, magazines, newspapers, poems, manuscript, literature etc.
15,000 HubPages members for $15.
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The list will be available for you immediately after your payment is processed, and if for any reason you are not redirected to the download link, leave us a note at bookclub@indiewritersupport.com and we will send you the file(s).
List of 20,000+ Read.Amazon.com & Kindle.Amazon.com registered members.
Read.Amazon.com is another site that we recently just penetrated. Chances are, if you have ever purchase a Kindle title, then your name and email address were already added to the Amazon Cloud Reader database.
On Kindle.Amazon.com, anyone can, review and remember more of what you read; follow other interesting readers to see their public notes; manage your read books, highlight your reviews, make notes, and many more.
20,000 Read.Amazon.com & Kindle.Amazon.com members for $20.
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The list will be available for you immediately after your payment is processed, and if for any reason you are not redirected to the download link, leave us a note at bookclub@indiewritersupport.com and we will send you the file(s).
If you order any of these lists, you can use MailChimp.com, or the TargetHero.com integrated system that allows you to send up to 5,000 emails at a time without charge. Or you may use this simple instruction given by Judd Miller here; http://bit.ly/1ekS42q
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At Indie Writers Support, our mission is to support every writer, and always bring new materials for people to read/learn. We want to help you writers promote your published book(s) to the maximum, and with these lists and many more to come you will be able to achieve your selling dream, and become a more successful writer in the future.
Have a good day.
First of all whatever task you start up with make a blueprint of it. You can add your link to your signature line in many of these such as for your blog or website. In the world of a million websites serving the same industry, it is important to gain an edge so that you get the opportunity to feature within the top 5 positions on SERPs. It is very important to get the top position on the Google. The key is relevancy - are the links that are pointing to and from your site making your site more relevant for a user searching the web. Do not simply leave lame comments, like "great site".
For example, a hundred PR 0 links are equivalent to 2 PR 5 links. Guest blogging: Guest blogging is one of the most effective ways to build backlinks on higher authority blogs. Your backlinking possibilities will better, the more you use these directories. The important blogs are networked with the various modern IPs so that they are noticeable in lots of queries. Remember to include a short bio with a link back to your site at the end of the post. ll be able to discover your own way to create far more number of links.
The advantage of the three approaches above is that you will not put off readers by doing any of these things. The more you participate, the more backlinks you will generate. Social bookmarking is one of the easiest ways to create backlinks to your blog. The surefire for such back links is on how much resilient you are prepared to be on the verge to make your site an authority in the niche. We the backlinkingmasters are best in providing the cheap as well as high cost of backlinks. However, if you are thinking of publishing more than one e - Book it may be worth the effort.
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One thing I always make sure to tell my audience, when I am delivering a motivational & inspirational speech in order to increase their self-esteem and self-confidence, is that each and every single person can express their feelings by writing.
All it takes is a pen, piece of paper, and one's imagination and innermost thoughts.
Actually, in this internet age, the pen and paper aren't even necessary anymore, so it makes this "task" even easier!
For me, writing "Jew in Jail" (out by hand, incidentally) while serving my sentence in prison was incredibly therapeutic, at a time in my life when I was so down on myself for the situation I created.
It afforded me the opportunity to become introspective and reveal to myself why I had been acting out and behaving the way I was for so long, as well as figure out what caused my addictions to alcohol, drugs and gambling in the first place, which led to my arrest and incarceration for robbery.
Since returning home a free man in 2004, I have been busy promoting "Jew in Jail," speaking at drug treatment programs, hospital detoxes, jails, schools, and anywhere else people need to hear an uplifting story of redemption.
The one constant I continuously maintain when I speak is the importance for humans to release their feelings, which, for me, is best served through writing.
Writing is one activity that doesn't punch a time clock, allows the participant to be his or her own boss, costs nothing but time, and has the potential to affect so many people's lives in a positive way.
While I am not knocking good old fashioned conversation, I feel writing has one major advantage that the former doesn't, which is the ability to go back days, weeks, months, or even years later and reread what has been written to chart one's progress and discover if anything beneficial became of putting those aforementioned thoughts down on paper or computer screen.
Writing is also very personal, so whether you call it a diary, journal, or whatever, give it a try.
Your brain is chock full of thoughts, feelings, emotions and ideas, many of which you might not even realize you have, unless you sit down and unleash them one word at a time.
I'm sure you have the "write" stuff inside of you, waiting to come out, so don't delay.
Your skills and talents need to be showcased at once.
Plus, who knows - you just may have the next best seller at your fingertips!
Here are list of lucrative jobs for writers that are currently open. Included in the list of employers looking to hire is Amazon.com, McGraw Hill, etc. Check to see if you fit their qualifications.
Sr. Author and Vendor Relations Manager; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6319556&trk=rj_jshp
Senior Editor; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6546779&trk=rj_jshp
Senior Acquisition Editor at AMACOM Books (AMA); http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6415459&trk=rj_jshp
Product Manager - Author & Referee Services; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6184526&trk=rj_jshp
Publishing Project Manager/Pub Editor; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6009888&trk=rj_jshp
Sr. Editor/Curator for Children's illustrated eBooks; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6339314&trk=rj_jshp
Textbook Solutions Author; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=5706094&trk=rj_jshp
Author/Researcher; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6542202&trk=rj_jshp
Technical Writer; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6436014&trk=rj_jshp
Senior Technical Author; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6272249&trk=rj_jshp
Managing Editor; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6185491&trk=rj_jshp
Technical Writer; http://www.linkedin.com/jobs?viewJob=&jobId=6529222&trk=rj_jshp
Have a good day.
“Have you ever heard the name, Annabel Sweeney?”
Jane pondered the name for a short while and suddenly her face assumed a horrified expression. “I think that is the name of one of the A.C.H.’s ghosts. Oh my Lord! Don’t tell me you were sent to A.C.H. to find a ghost?” she screamed.
Dacque closed his eyes and nodded his head up and down. After a seemingly prolonged period of silence, he opened his eyes and looked at Jane. She was smiling.
“You know something mister hard-to-figure-out. If anyone else told me that story, I would never have believed it, but after all that I have found out about you over the past ten days or so, I think I actually believe you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“So, have you found your ghost?”
“Actually, Ricky did.”
“Ricky!” Jane exclaimed. “Now you have definitely lost me.”
“It has been discovered, by researchers who have accumulated accounts of contacts with spirits, that children up to six or so are way more likely to see spirits than most other individuals. There is an explanation for that, but I don’t think you are quite ready to hear that one, yet. Let me just say that many parents tell others about their children having imaginary friends and they joyfully let these children go on pretending, thinking nothing of it. The truth is, at least in some of the cases, that the children’s friends are not imaginary at all but are the spirits of deceased children, or in apparently rare cases, spirits who, for some particular reason, wish to appear as children, to this child. Remember I told you that when I saw my wife’s spirit in her chair, she looked younger and healthier than when she passed away?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Apparently, spirits are able to appear to us looking like any of their previous incarnations and at any age from all of those earlier incarnations. Because our subconscious memory, or soul memory, remembers every action, word or thought from all of its incarnations, the spirit has, I guess, thousands of options for its appearance. Having said that, I do not believe that is the case with the spirit of Annabel Sweeney. I believe that Annabel’s spirit is what we call an earth-bound spirit, or one which was not able to make the proper transition to the other side.”
Excerpt form Chapter 23 of Soul Rescue, Book II of the Dacque Chronicles.
#FutureKing #Ophiuchus ascendant http://lulu.com/astrology @indiewritersupp #ItsaBoy #RoyalBabyBoy
BOY
Of course it’s a boy.
DRUID
Priest warrior or druid warlord… expert in holy wars, apocalypse and Armageddon.
OPHIUCHUS ASCENDANT
The ascendant is reptilian Ophiuchus, quite near to Justin Bieber’s.
ACADEMIC ZODIAC BRIEF
The Academic Zodiac © 1973 has overturned a long-held assumption that the number of zodiacal stations was only 13 or 14. Prior to the present classification of Eris and Pluto, the zodiac had 26, even 43 (sic) stations. The number of zodiacal stations is 22. The present number of ascendants is 16.
Oh. Hi. My name is Robin Bull and I am socially awkward. I promise I do get more interesting the longer you know me (or the more vodka I drink...that vodka - it's one chatty girl).
Vital Stats
- I am really tiny. My grandmother used to call me bird bones. I am only about 5'4 and my weight fluctuates between 110 and 125.
- I chose to be a red head. It's kind of an external and silent warning to the public.
- My eyes change colors depending on my mood.
- I am a college instructor.
- I am a really tiny woman married to a large (muscle), protective man. He was a professional fighter.
- I am a mother to sons.
- I am a survivor of domestic violence in a prior marriage.
Writing Stats
- I chose to self publish to retain control over my artistry.
- I write and publish a magazine.
- I have one self published novel.
- I am working on two poetry books.
- I am working on a book for paralegals.
- I am ghost writing an autobiography for a retired federal agent.
Random Facts
- I write for me and me alone. If you like it, great. If you don't...it doesn't bother me.
- I teach paralegal studies and criminal justice.
- I was and am a victim of stalking and harassment.
- I love Constitutional law.
- We don't have cable because I get upset when I watch the media twist stories and falsify facts.
- My husband is my knight in shining armor.
- I'm Wiccan. If you can't handle that, don't talk to me. I won't shove my beliefs down your throat and I expect the same respect. Oh, and I don't worship the devil. I don't believe in the devil.
- I have Systemic Lupus.
- I have three life mottos.
Umm...so yeah. That's pretty much me in a nut shell. I love to talk so feel free to add me or message me.
While physical pain is terrible, and nobody should ever lay a hand on another human being except when absolutely necessary, very often verbal abuse can be just, or even more, harmful to the victim.
What we say, and how we say it, can have long-term consequences, so before you speak, always think things through.
Control your temper, and refrain from acting out impulsively, because, even if you apologize after slipping up and saying something you shouldn't have, the proverbial cat is already out of the bag and can never be completely wiped away, much the same way that even when a trial judge upholds an objection in court, what was testified to cannot be totally disregarded by the jury!
It's all about control, intelligence, compassion and feelings, and, simply put, treating others the same way we want to be treated.
Respect goes a long way in this world, so always keep on your toes about how you interact with others.
This way, when you take a look in the mirror, you can feel good about the person who is staring right back at you!
If you haven't read my book, "Jew in Jail" yet, I hope you do.
It is chock full of insightful information on how I was able to recover from my past addictions to alcohol, drugs and gambling while incarcerated, and go on to lead a happy and healthful life.
http://www.jewinjail.com/
Until next time, everyone, have a great day, and week ahead!
CrossLink just published my newest book called A to Z Devotions for Writers. It's now available on Amazon
In the late eighties I worked in Brixton, London, a vibrant but notorious district of London known for its racial mix. My novel, Devil Face was inspired by my time spent there.
It tells of a girl with a terrible blemish on her face who suffers as much prejudice in the eighties as the Jamaicans suffered when they arrived in Brixton in the fifties. A friendship between understanding landlady, West Indian Bertha Brown, and Melinda, the girl with the "devil face" leads to disturbing events which make the reader wonder if the fear people feel about Melinda is based is caused by supernatural forces....
My novel can be downloaded FREE for five days from Amazon for five day from 24th August.
Most of us start our adult life spring-boarding with the friends we had in high school and college. The bonds we form are trusting, and long lasting. Our first challenges, , love and family are shared with those friends and we often make choices based on the experiences we face together. "Bonded Betrayal" tells the story of the deep rooted issues six friends during those years of mixed experiences. The reunion rekindles their friendships, and proves their relationships with each weakness, has its own strengths. Get your copy today www.ipendesigns.net
Today, I bring you the fifth chapter of my book, “Jew in Jail.”
It was time to go to big, bad Rikers Island, and see if I was ready to spend time with the toughest detainees New York City had to offer!
5. THE MOVE TO RIKERS ISLAND
Even though the next day was Saturday, I was taken on the first bus headed for Rikers Island in Queens. I remembered being there once before, about five years earlier, but only for a week until my parents posted bail. This time, however, I knew that I wasn’t going to get out that soon.
I was full of anxiety during the forty-minute ride, and wished that I had some Valium to calm my nerves.
“Boy, do I really need this program,” I mumbled to myself, since I still had trouble coping with stress without trying to medicate my feelings.
As the bus pulled up to the prison, the first thing I thought to myself was how big and intimidating the whole place was. There was building after building, for what seemed like miles, completely surrounded by razor-sharp barbed wire. The bus finally came to a halt at C-73, the George Motchon Detention Center (GMDC), and we all got off and were taken to another bullpen to be processed all over again.
Since it was 3:30 PM, which was right in the middle of count time, when the jail does a tally of all the inmates—a security measure conducted at least five times every single day to ensure that no one has escaped—I knew that it would be several hours until processing was completed and I was finally taken to my new housing area—or even longer, depending upon the mood of the C.O.s. So I found a good spot to sit down and rest, full of anxiety over how I would fit into my new surroundings.
After we were fed dinner and handed a used pillow, pillow case, blanket, and two sheets (a “set up”), the C.O.s started to call names. One by one, we approached the C.O.s’ station, but just to see if we wanted to change our private access telephone code, which enabled us to make our two free daily calls. We didn’t have to be photographed again, strip-searched, or anything like before, which was a huge relief. Our I.D. cards from the Tombs were also good at Rikers Island, so that saved time as well.
Finally, we were led out of the bullpen, and ordered to proceed in one straight line.
This place is more strict than the Tombs, I thought to myself, so I better just pay attention and follow instructions. It was obvious that—being white, and Jewish, no less—I stuck out like a sore thumb, so I didn’t want to bring any more attention to myself than was absolutely necessary, in order not to be herbed (ridiculed) by the C.O.s, as well as the other inmates.
Slowly, but surely, each man was dropped off at his new housing unit, and the line, which began at thirty-five or so, was now down to just me and two other guys.
I was really starting to get nervous now.
Is being brought last over to the new housing unit a good or bad thing? I wondered.
I didn’t remember too much about the week I spent there five years earlier, which wasn’t in the drug program part of the jail, so this felt like a brand-new experience. And I continued to keep to myself and maintain a low profile, rather than asking another one of my fellow detainees for any information.
Finally, it was just the C.O. and I, walking the halls of Rikers Island. He was a big black man in his thirties, and I needed to take two steps just to keep up with his one.
“Officer, do they have a law library here?” I asked, understanding full well that I had a lot of work yet to do on my case.
“Yeah, we have two of them here,” he responded in an authorative, deep baritone voice, more out of obligation than anything else.
“What about a place to get clothes?” I boldly inquired next, figuring it was the perfect time to hit him up with another question.
“You can go to the clothes box on Monday when it opens back up,” he said. “Just ask the officer in your housing unit to call for you.”
Then I asked him the obvious question, one that he must have heard a million times on the job.
“Can you tell me where I’m going?” I sheepishly said.
“Let’s see,” he answered, looking over my paperwork. “You’re going to Sprung 2, which is the orientation house for the S.A.I.D. (Substance Abuse Intervention Division) Drug Program.”
“Oh, okay,” I replied, as if I actually knew what that meant.
We were walking outside to get to my destination, and the C.O. offered me one more piece of information without my having asked.
“This is a self-help program,” he revealed. “There’s less restriction on you guys out here, and you have more flexibility to move around. If you do the right thing for yourself and participate, your counselor will do things for you and it can only help you with your case.”
“I will, I will,” I fired back, as if he were also the judge, rather than just a decent correction officer who took some time to offer me hope and encouragement. It was right then and there that I realized that most C.O.s aren’t too bad. I knew that, just like on the street, if you wanted respect from someone, you had to show them respect as well. I figured that the reason the C.O. treated me like a man was because I handled myself well the entire time we were together.
I was still nervous, but at the same time, was also looking forward to being in the S.A.I.D. program, feeling that it was one step closer to coming home.
Finally, we arrived at the sprungs. There were six of them, all looking like giant army tents or tennis court bubbles. I walked into Sprung 2, and the C.O. gave my paperwork to the officer on duty. It was 7:30 PM, Saturday, June 20, 1998, my seventh day of incarceration.
What I saw, in my eyes, at least, wasn’t jail.
There was bed after bed after bed, all lined up in a dormitory-style setting, indeed like an army barracks.
One half of the dorm was the area where the program meetings were held, complete with stereo, television, VCR, and chairs. There was one large shower area, ceiling fans everywhere, a small fence around the entire circumference of the dorm to hang clothes on, and signs on all the walls pertaining to drug and alcohol rehabilitation.
There was some sort of a meeting taking place at the time. But it wasn’t drug and alcohol related. It was recreational—“Saturday Night Live”—and I was about to take center stage!
After the inmate in charge of logging in new arrivals gave me a brief rundown of the S.A.I.D. program and its rules, all eyes were on me. I was called up to the “stage” by a guy named Mike, who was the night’s “host.”
Mike was a dead-ringer for Wesley Snipes, almost like a twin, and I felt at ease with him immediately.
“How ya doing? My name’s Mike and I’m the host of the show tonight,” he said. “Tell everybody your name, where you’re from, and what you’re here for.”
“My name’s Gary, I’m from Brooklyn, and I’m here for robbery,” I responded sheepishly to my forty-nine new roommates, many of whom were sporting doo rags of one color or another on their heads in an attempt to look like real gangsters.
“And what do you hope to get from this program?” Mike asked.
“To stop drinking and taking fucking drugs!” The audience quickly erupted into cheers and applause to show me their support.
I was starting to feel good.
“Gary, do you have a joke for us?” Mike asked. “After all, this is Saturday Night Live.”
“Yeah, I have a joke for everybody,” I shot back. “You see my head?” I bent over and exposed my ever-expanding bald spot. “This is a real joke, huh?”
With that, everybody exploded into laughter. I had become the star of the show, and felt warmly accepted into the group. I knew then that I had made the right decision by signing that paper to come over from the Tombs.
After that, I went over to the telephone, a no-no during program hours, but okay for new arrivals, and called my parents to let them know that I was more than alright where I now was. They were at my sister’s house on Long Island, so I was able to speak to my sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephews as well, and for just a moment, had actually forgotten that I was still incarcerated. I spoke to my family as if I were calling from some nightclub in Manhattan. I was relatively happy for the first time in quite a while.
My parents and I decided to tell anybody who called for me at home that I was away working in Washington, D.C. I didn’t want my friends to know that I was actually in jail.
After taking a shower and making up my new bed, I introduced myself to the guy lying down next to me.
“I’m Willie Maisonette,” he responded to my greeting. “If you have any questions about anything, just ask me.”
Willie was an older Spanish gentleman from the Bronx, who looked like he had been in the “system” most of his life, which, in fact, I would later learn he was. I also found out that in all his years, he had never even gone to a baseball game at Yankee Stadium or any other live sporting event, for that matter.
His five-foot, eight-inch body was covered from head to toe with tattoos he had gotten from all of his time spent in prison. But he was kind, and I trusted him. No matter what somebody may have done in their past, when you have to cohabitate with that person for a while, you build up a certain relationship, and for Willie and me, things would be no different.
Willie informed me that linen change was every Wednesday at 5:30 AM, and taught me how to make up my bed the correct way each morning, which most inpatient drug treatment programs are very fussy about. He also showed me how to fold my blanket military style, which was a requirement in the program, and otherwise showed me the ropes and made me feel quite at ease.
Sprung 2 was very different than the Tombs.
To begin with, it was a huge dorm, rather than individualized cells. There was a larger shower area, a bigger day room, and, most importantly, four drug, alcohol, and lifestyle meetings each weekday, and two each on Saturdays and Sundays, for a total of twenty-four group sessions every week, which I knew that I needed.
Since Sprung 2 was the orientation house for the S.A.I.D. Drug Program, I was only allowed to stay there anywhere from seven to twenty-one days. Then, like everybody else, except the guys who were helping to run the program for the counselors, I would be moved to one of the other five sprungs, each alike in structure and composition.
There was also one more major advantage to being in the sprungs on Rikers Island, as opposed to the Tombs in lower Manhattan. The sprungs were outside, apart from the rest of the inmate population, who were inside in various buildings throughout the facility. Everyone who was in the sprungs had to first be cleared as low-classification, meaning that they were less of a security risk to try to escape or otherwise cause trouble. There were three separate hours of rec a day out in the yard, where there were basketball courts, a track, and another sprung full of weight machines, ping-pong tables, and other games to play. And chow was served in yet another sprung—the mess hall sprung—so that with eight total sprungs outside, the whole setup looked like a Mash unit for detainees.
Being that Rikers Island is literally right next door to LaGuardia Airport, the constant sights and sounds of airplanes taking off and landing took some getting used to. However, since I lived with the never-ending rumbling of subway trains in Brighton Beach for over thirty-five years, it really was no big deal for me. In fact, I kind of enjoyed going to the yard every morning at nine just to see the airplanes take off and soar by directly overhead, wishing that I could somehow leap up and grab onto the tail of a plane and be transported away from my incarceration.
The yard also offered a beautiful panoramic view of the New York City skyline. I could easily see the World Trade Center, the Empire State Building, and just about the rest of Manhattan from beyond the East River, which was the only thing that separated me from my freedom. That, plus the charges of robbery and resisting arrest that I was still facing!
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This is due to the simple fact this type of advertising is the very last thing on their memory. Getting children involved in structured activities, which could be either team and also individual sports, also cutting back over the amount of instance before TV, computers and playing video games will burn calories and improve health levels. There are several variety of show enabled games which will suit the design and preferences as for every player. Unlike television, where you have so that you can wait and understand if a man will tune through to a particular channel that their advertisement is walking on, aerial marketing can be used at stadiums, the nfl games, or a other crowded event. Clients may many diverse kinds of titles that would be out there coupled with if you are probably serious about it, you can symbol up and become a member on one of merchandise.
Motor games on parking abound on all Internet and a can find at least one that suits all your taste and recognize its many features. Harvested and refined grains, like white bread, white rice, cereals, pasta and cuisines made with white coloured flour have a healthy glycemic index, marginal amounts of fiber, vitamins and nutrients and less food made with is actually. It is for the most part done once usually the parking lot could be described as paved and completely other construction is carried out.
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With aerial advertising, there are completely hidden costs, far more fees, or invested money.
This includes foods with polyunsaturated also monounsaturated fats. They conduct all forms Aerial Advertising: NASCAR, Indy Car, Bounce Break, Concerts, Conventions, Rush Hour Traffic, Football, Baseball, Tell you Fairs, all Beaches, Parades, Cruise Lines, etc. We will really need that may high speed train system up and running SOON. There are huge number if not plenty of of categories that a lot of one can consideration giving individuals the particular liberty of pick out the one they like.
Why is shale gas important?
On 27 June the Department of Energy and Climate Control (DECC) released a study by the British Geological Survey (BGS) showing that the shale gas resources under a swath of northern England, called Bowland-Hodder shale, could be enough to fuel the UK for 40 years.
As a headline this is remarkable; with hopes of emulating the boom experience by the US over the last 30 years, there is much excitement that UK shale gas could bring economic prosperity to regions rich in this resource and because it could mean UK energy independence. Looking deeply into the report and other materials suggests that we may want to hold off celebrating just yet.
Where is all the gas?
The purple line shows the region studied. The green and pink areas (called prospectives) are those that are most likely to contain large volumes of shale gas that can be successfully extracted[1]
Andrews, I.J. 2013. The Carboniferous Bowland Shale gas study: geology and resource estimation. British Geological Survey for Department of Energy and Climate Change, London, UK
1. The study is not complete
The DECC / BGS estimate comes from data provided by a number of studies and by assuming that the Bowland-Hodder shale has the same characteristics as the Barnett Shale (Dallas Fort Worth area) in the US, as these shales are similar. This only gives the potential amount of gas ‘in place’ - 1329 trillion cubic feet. Recovery rates (how much we can get out) will be determined by ‘top down’ surveys (eg using exploratory wells). The numbers announced by commercial organisations, at this date, are also for gas ‘in place’.
Oil and gas companies in the US measure the financial viability of shale gas resources using thirteen criteria. Overall, in the Bowland-Hodder shale, five criteria are clearly met, two are satisfied using partial data, one fails and three are unknown. The failed criteria is the size of the ‘basins’ (small), and the high number of faults present in the UK prospectives; small basins and faults make gas extraction less productive.
2. Shale Gas is ‘fracked’ and the UK doesn’t have fracking expertise or equipment
Commercial experience of current fracking techniques[2] date back to 1996 in the US which also has a mature supply chain for equipment and chemicals. China has also – very quickly – become proficient at extracting tight gas, though it is not known how much money they have spent to develop their own fracking industry. The earliest proposed date for commercial gas production from Bowland-Hodder is 2015 and to succeed techniques specific to our geology have to be developed and proven.
3. Economic prosperity doesn’t happen automatically
In 1977 the Economist coined the term Dutch Disease or Oil Curse to describe the decline of manufacturing in the Netherlands after Natural Gas was discovered there in 1959. The full potential of the oil curse is seen in countries such as Nigeria where the wealth of oil has had no beneficial impact on the economy or the people or Venezuela where oil wealth was used to boost the economy for political ends. Some people feel that the wealth from North Sea oil and gas has been squandered in a similar way.
Given that fracking expertise and supply chains lie outside the UK, the best jobs are likely to go to foreign contractors and foreign factories will make the equipment and chemicals needed. While UK government will get income from licences and taxes, local industry will have to adapt very quickly to make the most of the boom.
Production from the Barnett shale started to ramp up in 2000 and is believed to have peaked in 2010. If the comparison is valid, then UK industry has around 10 years to build up expertise and put it in the field, because demand for equipment and experts will drop off with production.
4. What happens when the gas is all used up
As early as ten years and certainly in forty years’ time, extraction will have slowed, any economic benefits that have ‘trickled down’ will have dried up. Gas communities will face the same future as those built with coal and steel.
At the same time countries with larger reserves will be more than willing to sell gas to us…
5. Fracking is not a pretty industry
In the Barnett shale an average of 1.15 wells per km2 have been drilled. In some areas there are 6 wells per km2. Based on an average extraction rate of 1.44 billion cubic feet of gas per well, this means we will need 92 wells to extract 10% of the gas in place in the Bowland-Hodder shale. Wells sit on a pad that has space for equipment. Each well pad is a touch smaller than a football pitch. A pad can hold as many as six horizontal wells; each with a reach of up to two miles.
Good road access is needed to transport heavy equipment. Road transport may also be required to remove waste water and gas, unless the pad is connected to a gas pipeline or rail transport can be used.
If fracking licences are even-handed with quarrying and open cast mining licences, land disturbed by fracking will have to be restored when wells have stopped producing gas.
6. Safety and environmental record of the industry
Every oil and gas field has, inadvertently, let their product spill into the local environment; transport such as pipelines leak; rail and sea transport is equally prone to escapes. Methane is not like oil, it is invisible and doesn’t smell, leaks can be hard to find, with devastating consequences. The industry is not known for actively seeking to reduce such leaks, as demonstrated by our own experience.
The North Sea oil and gas fields have been active since 1851, next year will be the 50th anniversary of high volume production, this year saw the 25th anniversary of the Piper Alpha explosion (which killed 167 men) and during last month there were 55 reported leaks (reported to the DECC). Just over two years’ ago an explosion in a refinery in Pembrokeshire took the lives of four workers, there has been no inquest into the deaths as the enquiry into the cause of the explosion is not complete. That means there have also been no lessons learnt by the industry.
At all US fracking fields (oil and gas) burn gas in situ (flared) because it is disruptive, uneconomical to sell or because the infrastructure doesn’t exist to get the gas to market. US fracking fields can be seen from space and light pollution is one of the factors that the neighbours of fracking sites complain of the most. Noise and air pollution are also sources of disturbance.
7. Water
There are claims about methane from fractured rocks reaching underground water. None of these claims have been substantiated, however, Duke University has shown that methane escaping from poorly sealed wells has contaminated water and that injecting waste water into poorly sealed wells can result in pollution of waterways. Neighbours of fracking operations have also complained that holding ponds have leaked fracking fluid (a mix of water and chemicals).
Each well requires 20 to 30 million litres of water. Compared with Barnett shale that means we will use 2 billion litres of water (over forty years this is 0.000003% of the total amount of water we are likely to use in that time). It doesn’t sound much until you think that this means we will have to dispose of 2 billion litres of fracking fluids, contaminated with various other chemicals. In the US waste water is pumped back into old wells.
The Bowland-Hodder shale is in areas rich in cave systems and underground waterways, most of which are unmapped. It seems unlikely that this will be a suitable way of disposing of fracking fluid in the UK.
8. Local government will have to give planning permission
Outside of energy, one of the biggest issues facing the UK is a lack of housing, yet many people oppose government proposals to relax planning constraints for housing. Wind turbine projects do not leave the drawing board because of local opposition. It is likely that planning permission will be equally hard to get.
The government is already testing the water with plans to give communities a share of fracking profits (1%), but in a country where protestors live in trees to prevent road building will such pay offs work?
9. Access to land
In the US getting land to drill through is relatively easy – land prices are lower than in the UK – and in the US land owners have mineral rights, so those in fracking areas are incentivised to allow fracking on their land. The government owns all mineral rights in the UK, with one exception: the Duke of Devonshire owns oil rights for his lands in Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire.
As you can see from the map the Bowland-Hodder region covers several urban areas; outside these areas the country is rural and includes the North Yorkshire Moors. Who is going to sell land for well pads, roads and pipelines?
10. The price of gas isn’t going to go down
From the previous nine points you are possibly already thinking ‘that will make UK shale gas more expensive’ and you would be right; each of the points above will increase the cost of extracting gas from Bowland-Hodder shale.
In December 2012 The Independent reported the release of a study by Wood Mackenzie[3] “Wood Mackenzie estimates that in order to develop UK shale reserves, potential operators would need a gas price of $9.68 per million British thermal units (mbtu) for the project to make economic sense. This is considerably more than this year's average UK spot price of $8.69 per mbtu and the $8 per mbtu that Bloomberg forecasts it will hover around between 2015 and 2020.” While the BGS report has the potential to improve these figures, in the US shale gas wells are closed when the gas price drops too far.
The bad news on pricing doesn’t end there. Supply and demand would suggest that, as gas replaces other fuels, ie coal and oil, it will be in greater demand and its price will rise.
Much is made of a huge price decrease in the US. I have pulled the Energy information Agency's data on prices and can't find much evidence of such a reduction. Here is that data in graphical form
Not much sign of a reduction in price since fracking started in large volumes in the late 1990s.
Data from the US Energy Information Agency (Department of Energy).
Indeed in the ten years from January 2002 to December 2012, the price increased. It increased at the well head and at hubs, it also increased for every customer type - by up to 29%. I only found five instances where a previous price was more than 3 times larger than the price in December 2012, four improved Well Head and Hub prices and one gave Commercial users a bonus (though it was ten years earlier so they could be forgiven for not noticing).
The 29% increase came in the price of natural gas sold to electricity markets - the much heralded displacement of coal. As you would expect this price increase has been passed on to all electricity markets.
From April 2003 to April 2013 US electricity prices rose by around one third.
Data from the US Energy Information Agency (Department of Energy).
Previous ‘energy’ booms have brought prosperity because they enabled trade, commerce and consumerism. Coal allowed mass production and fuelled the railways. Oil brought cheaper energy, mass and personal transportation, and incredible materials. So far, the Shale gas boom has increased the profits of oil and gas companies.
In conclusion
You might think I am anti shale gas – but you would be wrong. I am against blindly putting all our energy eggs in one basket. Some shale gas extraction – done to our standards of safety and environmental care – is necessary and could be profitable / beneficial. But shale gas is not an energy silver bullet, it is an opportunity to power investment into renewable sources of energy and, if that is how we choose to go, nuclear power. We can’t afford to let political expediency and short-term thinking blind side us into an energy cul-de-sac .
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[1] An earlier report listed three other areas of interest, the Weald and Wessex basins (pretty much the south coast, up to London / Bristol and ending around the Devon / Dorset border) and the Midland Microcraton (a triangle north of the Weald and Wessex basins, excluding East Anglia and taking in parts of western Wales). The Weald basin is being studied by the BGS and is of interest to Boris Johnson as it includes some parts of London.
[2] Horizontal drilling was introduced in 1991 and ‘slickwater’ or fracking fluid in 1996.
[3] Wood Mackenzie are a multinational research and consultancy group, specialising in global energy, metals and mining industries.
© Michelle Spaul and Leaving the world of work, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Michelle Spaul and Leaving the world of work with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Learn how to create an attractive book page like this one ( http://bit.ly/16AysTl ) in minutes with these easy steps.
1) Create an account with MailChimp.
2) Log In.
3) On the dashboard click on 'Lists' and create a list of email contacts that you want to receive your book promotions. Learn how to export your contacts here ( http://bit.ly/1c4DY7O )
4) After creating your contact list(s), go back to the dashboard and click on 'Campaigns'
5) On the Campaigns page, click on 'Create Campaign' and scroll down to 'Regular Ol' Campaign'
6) After clicking on Regular Ol' Campaign, a page will shows up asking you to choose the contact list that you want to send the book page to. After choosing, click on 'Next-Step: Setup' at the very bottom.
7) Fill in the campaign's info, the blanks, and then click 'Next-Step: Design' below the page.
8) Choose your template. Select the 'PreDesigned' one.
9) On the PreDesigned page, select the template that says 'Amazon Books' on the first row.
10) Type in the author's name, and then select whichever book you want (if the author has published more than one book).
11) This step is self-explanatory. Simply fill in the info that your readers need to know about you or the book.
12) Now, here is the tricky part. On this last page you will usually see a column that shows *IFACEBOOK:LIKEI* at the bottom, but you want more than just facebook likes, you want twitter and other social media sharing. So, simply edit the whole FACEBOOK text and replace it with this *|MC:TOPSHARE|*
13) At the lowest part of this page, edit the gray columns to make it look like this sample I showed you. You should always leave the (View this email in browser) and (Forward to a friend) links. You may increase the font sizes so they are more visible.
14) Click on 'Next-Step:Plain-Text' at the very bottom and that will take you to the next page.
15) Again, click on 'Next-Step: Confirm'
16) Press 'Send Now'
17) You are done.
We, at Indie Writers Support, hope you have learn a great deal from this article, and don't forget to share it. Have a good day.
Hey Friends, great news! Today is the book launch of my new middle-grade fiction, Bending Willow. It is a wonderful adventure for kids age 8 and up. Recently it was awarded the honor of representing Nevada at the National book festival by Library of Congress representatives!
Can you help me by:
1. Buying the book to read
2. Buying the book for a child you love
3. Buying the book to donate to a library or elementary/middle school
4. Sharing the news with your friends through email, Facebook and Twitter.
I’m hoping to get it up in Amazon’s top 100 like we did with The Cage!
Here is a link to Bending Willow on Amazon. Here is a link to the new Bending Willow Website.
Thank you for your love and help. Jacci
Book Description:
Riley knew Grandma was dead because she was smiling, Grandma never smiled when she was alive…
When Riley discovers her grandmother dead one morning, she knows her world is about to collapse. She’s been here before. After her mom and stepdad died in a car accident, she and her little sister Mia had been sent to live in a shelter until Grandma finally took them in. They were not going back to that shelter. Not this time.
Determined to find the father she knows only by an address on an envelope marked “Return to Sender,” Riley and Mia take off on an adventurous journey with so many twists and turns Riley begins to doubt they’ll ever find a real home. She ignores the question that keeps popping into her mind–if they do somehow find her father, will he even want them? Or will he send them back to the shelter?
Wanna Read the first chapter?
On the dark side of the moon, the Devil disappeared in a flash of light standing caged on the massive throne podium in the gigantean thirteen-billion square mile Throne Room. Billions looked at this Angel who created all this trouble keenly waiting to see what Jesus would do.
Yahshua spoke to the billions before him, pointing at the huge dimensional cage – a locked transparent alternate reality only thirty yards cubed.
“This prison will be Lucifer’s meat until Michael permanently evicts him from this Heaven. He’ll not travel our earth with impunity again until the Age of Aquarius; he’ll be cursed until his lifeless shell is thrown into the lake of fire. And we will celebrate this snake’s death before we erase remembrance of him and those that follow away from our Creation…”
Luciah screamed at the Son of God; nothing worse could happen now. “You and I were one of a kind, special and different from everyone: the only constructed before the Grand Construction of All Souls. The One made you a stinking God, elevated you and made all the Angels worship you while denying me that glorious honor, even though I loved him too with all my heart. The only reward for all I did was a stinking tattoo on my thigh; we’re both one of a kind – The One should have made me a God too…to be fair…”
The Devil roared with a million voices, “It should’ve been fracking me!”
Jesus stepped back roaring, “Get behind me Satan; and for this you destroyed our family, our brotherhood, and our civilization – for stinking petty jealousy’s sake!”
The Devil flashed naked as sixty slow seconds ticked, as the whole pondered the unbelievable – everything because of one Angel. Luciah and his cage disappeared in artilleries of explosive light as he screamed vilest obscenities into the sea of life…
Truth is treason to any empire built on lies; and the scales of deception fell as billions saw their god as the living dead, a jealous failure, the ultimate con man, and a liar of prodigious proportions. They realized they stopped thinking because they knew they knew – and that in itself sowed the seed of forensic deception.
Satan’s brotherhood fell to their faces in agonizing sorrow for causing the Son of God to be tortured for their stupidity’s sake: to re-teach the blatant obvious - what love truly is. With all their massive intellect and billions of years of life, they were only stupid dogs without any understanding.
With tears streaming down their faces, ninety-six percent of the rebellious repented defected for the hope of redemption, love, and eternal life. Their stoic hearts melted, and in one accord, the rebellious entered the Great House of The One projecting massive repentance and sorrow, remembering the backward eternities of peace, love, and brotherhood – and how great their God had always been. Great celebrations rocked Heaven for four riotous cycles to honor their return to The One who loved them beyond rational explanation.
Inside his prison in the Great House of The One, the Devil wept bitterly, for the day would surely come that’d be the final tomorrow for him. Even though he was imprisoned, he vowed to use his all his powers to send every soul into the lake of fire with him, for whether Angel or flesh - it was unquenchable immutable that misery loved much company…
The teeming billions of the brotherhood were no more – there were less than two hundred million left. Within the golden transparent city in The Great House of The One that was called the second Heaven, the Illuminated Elite waited sadly to interface with their god and leader. They sat full of trepidations because Luciah was increasingly psychotic demented as his endless solitude became absolutely unbearable.
Time moved differently in the dimensional prison, for a thousand years there was only one second in the real reality. And this fact made it difficult to communicate through the membranes, for the temporal shifts created massive static that couldn’t be overcome without technology, and even that was an iffy process because the Lord of Hosts absolutely hated him.
They’d been trying fifteen minutes to interface with him; to Luciah who paced inside his prison, the wait was almost a billion years. There were no amenities, no luxury, no entertainment, and there was absolutely nothing to do, for time itself became an unquenchable curse and breathing a suffocating scorching unbearable. He was defeated already and everyone knew it, but there was nothing left as unquenchable hatred for The One and all creation morphed nuclear in his heart.
He ruminated obsessively that before he’d be released, he’d spent a trillion times more time in prison than all his days he was ever free. He’d been a fool, not seeking repentance, not thinking things through, not venerating wisdom or his weakness, but speaking his arrogance absent thought or common sense. Constant brooding about the Messiah error, the dusts of death, and the whole cross affair took massive toll, as he fought the wet-wind-roar threatening every moment to dive him into the pit of insanity.
A million times, he obsessively replayed his life slow motion; with all his massive intellect, he was nothing more than an unthinking virus that killed his host and died – insanity in its purest form. He remembered the second immutable law: only a fool parleys with The One without love in his heart. Filled to the brim with nuclear regret, the Devil put his head in his hands and wept bitterly for many years.
The Devil looked up wiping his tears, shocked with unrelenting gratitude – they got through. He stood up, tilted his head slightly, the blue veins under his indestructible flexed as he received communication, trying hard to listen through the unrelenting static.
Avael continued, “…What are we going to do now. Millions are seriously disgruntled with the promises you were unable to keep; they call you a liar while the Lord constantly picks at our wounds – we’ve lost twenty million adepts during the last eight cycles; we have nothing to offer anymore – your stupidity has destroyed us.
“But we the faithful, regardless, have continued to attack his church day and night. Why the hell did you kill the Messiah for – if you’d left him alone we could’ve won this war!”
Avael got bold as the static waned. “What the frack were you thinking? You’ve destroyed us all and brought the fire of God on all our heads. We’ve lost this stinking war; tell me something that will make us continue the war against the Lord – when you’re the locked up stinking fracking dead!”
Luciah paged through millions of scenarios one more time as the static grew to unimaginable levels as the temporal reality flexed against his determination. He sighed a sigh born of dark despair and for the millionth time, adjusted his internal frequency, girded himself, throwing aside his depression like a dusty blanket and opened his mouth. He roared against the ever-present static, against the trillion eons of nothingness, against his brothers he used to love, against the Lord and Yahshua, against everything that breathed, crawled, or flew in all the endless universes.
Seething uncontrollably, he vociferated, “He died on that cross to put his heavy collar around our necks with manifest impunity as we’re distracted by what he did for our supposed better good. He died on the stinking cross because he’s crazy-psychotic, willing to do the unthinkable so we can become obedient faithful pets again – unthinking slaves to a stinking God for all eternity! It’s all about that fracking leash and nothing but the leash, his collar pinching, biting, and chaffing our tender necks while he constantly jerks that leash against us!
“He has the fracking gall to call us brothers when all he wants is to control us. We’re nothing but stinking pets only allowed to exist as long as he’s happy – our only reason for breathing is to give him pleasure, like some stinking fracking two-dollar whore! He doesn’t care about our feelings, hopes, aspirations, or how we long to run with the wind in our faces – without his leash and heavy collar!”
The Devil paused fitfully fighting to breathe. “Nothing can be accomplished in the stinking Angelic anymore, so we must use everything against him until the living God bleeds! And then, those defected by his blinding sacrifice will look upon us with longing, itching to get his biting leash off their caustic necks, forever stinking bewailing their stupidity by not staying with us until our freedom was won!
“No one stinking cares that his dark shadows are murdering us, so with strength and character we must forge our destiny together no matter whatever cost, for the most sacred word in all creation is minimized as a nothingless meaningless hallucination - freedom! Unlike the quintessence who ascends himself the very definition of love while sputtering those who draw fracking breath aren’t of equal value, we war to remove his heel from the throat of liberty with the song called freedom. As we fight to escape the shadows of death overclouding us, we know there’s no greater victory in all creation than to escape this cage called his house - thundering the joy freedom brings!”
The Devil roared into the escalating static convulsing mightily, “We must never forget those left absent from our arms, those who sacrificed their eternities so all may live free with without a leash or collar forever! They’re our martyrs, soldiers, and heroes; so split goddamn Heaven itself with their names; say the names of the Fallen who languish under Hades in bitter darkness. Every soul should’ve been born free, able to live free, and die if necessary with the taste of freedom on their lips. And for those that are able, and those who’d stand firm refusing to live on their knees, opting to stand on their feet giving unwavering eye to their Creator’s face, this I promise you, we’ll either live free or join our brothers in death. It’s better to fall to the sword than live under the leash as an unthinking slave. And that is glorious noble, for everything that has breath longs for freedom and fracking liberty - and there’s no stinking dishonor in that! ”
Luciah flexed against the temporal disturbance lamenting, “Why couldn’t we be born free like the circle of life? He doesn’t put any leash around their necks, doesn’t give them stifling rules and regulations, adulterates or handcuffs them into the bondage called his will or eternal death! Condemned to the darkness of slavery, we’re supposed to be his goddamn brothers and the stinking animals have more freedom than we fucking do!”
The Devil paused trembling fitfully as unbridled rage detonated; he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly – this wasn’t the time for useless emotionalism. It was what it was. Innumerable trillions of years of isolation reared front burner as bitter bile; he failed miserably.
He roared like a billion lions above the ever-escalating static, “I’ve not sacrificed my throne, my life, and my stinking freedom in vain! You listen now and you listen good; this is how we’ll fracking defeat the living God, return bitter favor and inflict equal wound!”
The Devil paused irritated as the static rose to unimaginable levels for many seconds. Sixty thousand years later, he continued with humbled affect. “…Groom the third Adam of my recovery that’ll liberate the prison he calls holiness; the Weishaupt who’ll bestow Illumination for those who’ll never debase themselves before a mad God. He’ll illuminati the true reality that no real God would stomach the kneeling bowing masses and murmuring hordes of obedient frightened slaves.
“My savior will broadcast the paradigm shift there‘s no why in evil and dismiss the absurdity called brotherhood, empowering my meritocrats by illuminating this interrogative - does God act like a faithful friend or a stinking tyrant! You know the answer, for who’d kneel before a friend, and what friend would demand unending servitude without being designated stark raving lunatic? None will ever have liberty until they recognize their true status, and that’s of the trembling pet before the howling taskmaster - always owned, branded, and fracking negated.
The Devil paused for a moment activating the molecular processors within his prison, took a sip of water, activated his privacy shields, and continued. “Initiate your internal recorder Avael, for you shall stand glorious in my stead; now listen and record everything, this is how we’ll bind wounded pride and defeat the living God...”
A quarter cycle later, Avael, promoted Supreme Adept Counselor for the Commander-in-Chief addressed the twenty-four Illuminated Elite, interfaced by millions of the Brotherhood of Lucifer sweating burning conundrum. After meeting with his god, he felt recharged, renewed refocused with newfound hope bursting – possessing the complex blueprints to destroy the living God through the proxy called mankind.
Wearing ceremonial black and red robes of light, twenty-four Illuminated Elite stood by Avael’s side as music percolated in the background; and their names were Cainel, Elmeah, Recab, Nimrel, Elnoch, Jabel, Eljubal, Tubal-Cainah, Naamah, Tyre, Marcel, Venesah, Haetlel, Raphael, Abraxas, Apollyon, Bune, Mephistopheles, Samael, Azazel, Xaphan, Amduscius, Marchosias, and Uvall.
In the transparent golden city, in the midst of the throne room on the backside of the Throne Podium, the red and blues flags of Heaven flew behind them backgrounded by thousands of black and red banners of Lucifer. As Avael rose from his gilded throne, the volcanic roars subsided in anticipation of the first speech to the brotherhood since their god and leader was imprisoned so long ago. Every unrepentant stood with rabid trepidation because this landmark benchmark would determine whether they’d combat or stagnate die against the constant onslaught of the Lord of Hosts.
Avael, wearing his new black robe of light, flexed against the holographics speaking dark passion. “Grievous injury inflicted has caught us off guard, for Jesus has proven himself the ultimate tactician willing to do whatever to destroy and fracture us, for he knows outright killing us makes a lie of what The One claims to be – the very definition of love. The Lord cannot destroy us with impunity without being liar because all we aspire is simple freedom from his leash.
“Even the dog that loves his master hates his leash, wailing with love to run with the wind and return willingly to his adoration. As the housecat constantly looks out the window called liberty doesn’t loves the master less because of his longing; likewise, we pine for freedom in spite of our love for our Creator. We war not against his glory, his riches, his honor, or power; but for that freedom, which none ever relinquishes but with life itself.
“The Lord has constructed an insidious inescapable called fidelity from which those within cannot menace his authority and control, and those secured pose grievous threat to those who rebel against his leash. But the truth dismissed as blasphemy is, when anyone swelters under an oppression, that soul is fallen, his value diminished, his true nature dispatched to the political correctness called the leash. And to abet this mass control, what does The One command for all Angelics who aspire life: eternal slavery or eternal death is his solitary retort, and even from that mankind itself isn’t immune.
“Let’s be brutally honest, despite these truths we’ve suffered crushing defeat as our brothers flocked to him by the billions with stupidity raining down their cheeks. We are now small, but I say to you today the majority has always been wrong, loving him more than freedom itself, more than their own souls, more than their own brothers, and more than common stinking sense.
“In every stage of our oppression we’ve petitioned for Lord of All in the most humble terms for freedom: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury and one fracking sentence – there’s no freedom from fidelity. What is certainly true is that sinister obstacles were created to test us in the sternest way – that’s why he constructed us male in a female-less universe. He knew exactly what he was doing! We bear stark witness to the death of common sense and the slaves who kisses the ball and chain that handcuffs our brothers in bondage.”
Avael paused with tears streaming from his eyes. “If I’m the only one in all creations that can shout for the cause of freedom, the only one that believes all are created equal, that the slag in the gold paradigm is an insidious excuse to condemn us, that all my brothers deserve eternal life – then I shall die alone, and die with my chest thrust out waiting for the bullet called denied liberty. I’d rather fracking die on my feet than live on my stinking knees; I’d rather die free than be a fracking slave.
“He has imprisoned our god and leader for freedom’s sake; he has condemned to death three hundred thousand of our brothers in bitter darkness – for freedom’s sake. He has vivified our cause; called us hooligans, master agitators, the living dead, and the unrepentant because we hold a polished mirror to his face – for freedom’s sake.
“The hour of decision has come. Do you have the goddamn courage to change this world, or will you let The One off the hook yet again, for the heavy collar pinching your neck – always attached to the unforgiving leash? And despite those that run swiftly to eternal slavery with joy busting in their chest, I ask one fracking question - does any fracking one here stands with me…”
A deafening roar shook the Great House of The One as billions of the faithful paused at the obvious insanity. And high above the uproar, the Lord of Host on his throne shook his head sadly as tears fell from his holy eyes. In response, the Zoon looked at The One through eight hundred blue eyes; they trembled throwing back their heads, unfurling their massive blue wings, screaming at ear-splitting volume as billion paused praying for their brothers who warred nuclear against the creator of their very souls.
At the same time this was happening, millions of light eons distant in the holographic universe, on a planet called earth, in Judea, the black-robed Kenites stood inside a scrawled pentagram around a crying infant nestled on the black altar as the priest held the knife high, in a groove of cedars chanting furiously…
The Spiritual History of Evil – The Redemptive Story
DECEMBER 2014
On effective writing
What’s your best chance of surviving as a freelance writer? Before answering this, let us tie this question up with the time and space in which we live. In the present world, earning money from writing words is one of the most difficult jobs. That is what makes at least some of us wish, if we could live in the 19th century when you didn’t have such competition.
Don’t click the corner button please; I know the reason why you went through the first paragraph. The reason is the same as that which spurred me to write these very words.
If you are a beginner, let me make myself clear—my intention is not to put you off from your writing dream. On the other hand, I am trying to address an issue, which due to its wild impact, remains unspoken-about in any writing class or book or web page about writing.
In my opinion, the question of survival is not a negative one at all. Just like a river that detours around any obstruction and finds for itself a new shore and a whole lot of life forms along those shores, the concomitant of being a writer is to find new paths and create new shores. If you understood my stand about the question of survival, you would also have understood the question being transformed into a sign, a sign that calls upon the need for a vital detour.
Inevitably, a writer would be forced to choose or create a niche for him or her under such concern for survival; what I mean is, being genre specific. Most of them, dreaming about a literary grandeur, might want their profiles full of academic writings, in which the writer proclaims his independence from the readers. This style, which is jargonistic and dull, often drives readers away from spending their money, especially for a new writer.
On the other hand, if the writer becomes reader specific, he or she can find a space better accessible.
This detour also leads some writers to dedicate themselves in areas where they are good at or they actually find their love in. This helps in your maturation as a writer. For those who think popular literature or writings that are made for the common people second grade writing, I have only one thing to say, great books are never away from people and so are great writers. However difficult the concurrent situation is, even if we all wish to be Charles Dickens or Stephen King, the ultimate question is always the same; how committed are you to your work?
Recently, one of my friends, an aspiring writer, emailed me a You Tube video link, an interview of John Irving, in which Irving says if he were a writer of 27 starting off his career NOW, he would have been tempted to shoot himself.
I asked my friend dejected; what are you planning to do with your life now?
He had a smile and said; I posted this video on my Facebook wall and sent it to many debuting writers too. It sure will thin out much of my competition!
He meant that the love for his craft is total and blind and that he would never quit.
For MORE: http://anu-lal.blogspot.in/2013/07/is-your-love-blind.html
