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Aug 11 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries: Informant Zero – (Part 4)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

Ding.

The doors opened and we found ourselves in small, unfinished cement room, barely big enough to lie down in.  A neon ceiling light bulb flickered on and off, providing spotty illumination.

A random goon in a suit with an expressionless face and sunglasses was waiting for us.  He guarded a single door.shutterstock_229115299

“Names, please.”

I looked behind me.

“There isn’t exactly a big line of people waiting to get in.”

An expressionless voice to go with the face.

“Names, please.”

Delilah intervened.

“Detective Jacob R. Hatcher, P.I. and Delilah K. Donnelly, Esquire.  We have an appointment with Informant Zero.”

The goon’s eyes perused a single sheet of paper on a clip board.

“Hmmm.  Yes.  Your names are on the list.”

“Finally,”  I said.  “Can you let us in already?”

“One moment please,”  the goon said as he looked toward the ceiling, where a speaker was mounted next to a video camera.  “Boss?”

The broadcasted response came in the form of an artificial, demonic sounding robotic voice.  It was low, deep and menacing, the stuff that nightmares are made of.  It filled the room and echoed off the walls.

“Good evening Mr. Hatcher.  Ms. Donnelly.”

“Informant Zero?”  Delilah asked.

“Indeed.  I apologize for the cloak and dagger treatment, but it is necessary to ensure my safety.  If you’ll indulge me, Ms. Donnelly, I’ll ask the final question our mutual contact provided you.”

“Of course.”

“Why…”

He really leaned into that “why.”

“Why…did the swallow wear a sweater?”

Delilah broke out the note again.

“Because,”  she read.   “It’s very chilly this time of year in Colorado.”

Informant Zero was not impressed.

“Shoot them.”

I drew Betsy and had her pointed at the chump before he could get his hand on his automatic.

“WAIT!”  Delilah cried.

It was the loudest I’d ever heard her speak before.

“Capistrano!  Because it’s very chilly this time of year in Capistrano!”

There was a pause.

“You may enter,”  Informant Zero said.

“Quite a blunder, Ms. Donnelly,”  I said.

I gave her a hard time but in truth, it was the first mistake I ever witnessed her make as well.

shutterstock_24224476“It’s not my fault the contact’s writing is atrocious.”

“Personal responsibility, Ms. Donnelly.  Personal responsibility.”

“My man will take Betsy, Mr. Hatcher.”

Interesting.  He knew my revolver’s name.

I took my finger off the trigger and forked her over.

“I’m going to need her back.”

The goon nodded.

“And your cell phones, please.”  Informant Zero said.

Delilah handed hers over.  I followed.

“That you can keep for all I care.”

The goon ran a metal wand up and down my body.

“What the hell is that thing?”  I asked.  “Some kind of weird sex toy?”

“Metal detector,”  the goon said as he ran the wand over Delilah.  “It finds hidden weapons.”

“Better check her twice then, Jack.  She’s packing some serious heat.”

Delilah shook her head.  I assumed she was once again thinking, “not the right time.”

The lady lawyer handed over her clutch and all of our items were secured in a lock box.

The door buzzed and we were in.

It was a small, dimly lit office.  Sitting at the desk was a shadowy figure with a hood pulled down low over his head.  The lighting was such that it was impossible to make out his face.

“Please be seated.”

He was still using the voice changer.

“Ms. Donnelly, rumors of your beauty do not do you justice.”

A courteous “thank you” was Ms. Donnelly’s reply.

“And Mr. Hatcher, your appearance is just as refined and ruggedly handsome as described in the tales on the Bookshelf Battle Blog.”

I looked over to my blonde confidant.

“Is this another one of those generation gap things I don’t get?  Do men just hit on other men at random now and I’m expected to nod and smile politely?”

Informant Zero laughed.  Fun fact.  Robotic voice changed laughter nearly pops your eardrums.  Delilah and I both reached for our ears.

“No, no, Mr. Hatcher.  I assure you my interest here is strictly of a business nature.”

“Yes,”  Delilah said.  “I must say, Mr. Battler was quite intrigued by your proposal.”

Battler was in on this?  Why was I always the last to know about these things?

“As he should be,”  Informant Zero said.

A cloud of smoke emerged from the shadow man’s facial area and I could see the feint red glow of a cigarette grow brighter as he inhaled again.

“I have the power to grow his website’s reader count far beyond a paltry 3.5, though that’s not an offer I’d make to just anyone.”

Copyright (c) 2015.  Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Aug 10 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries: Informant Zero (Part 3)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1      Part 2  

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

After leading us through a door and down a dark hallway, the cowboy screeched his Segway to a halt in front of an elevator.

He pushed the down button.

“Here, buckaroos, is where I leave you.”shutterstock_239019796

“OK then,”  I said.  “Happy trails, pardnah.'”

“Before I go…the rules.”

“The rules!”  the cowboy repeated loudly.  “You’ll follow them to the letter if you don’t want to get thrown out of here.  Rule Number One.  Do not ask Informant Zero his name.  If he wanted you to know, he wouldn’t refer to himself as Informant Zero.”

“Makes sense.”

“Rule Number Two.  Do not touch Informant Zero in any way, shape, or form.”

“But I like touching shadowy underworld characters,”  I said.  “It’s a condition.  I can’t help it.”

Delilah tugged on my sleeve.  “Now is not the time, Mr. Hatcher.”

The cowboy squinted at me, attempting to discern whether or not I was joking.  Obviously I was, but he let it go.

“Rule Number Three, do not remove Informant Zero’s disguise.  He takes a number of precautions to hide himself from the world, and he needs to keep it that way.”

“Kinda redundant, Jack,”  I said.  “Touching him would be required to reveal him.  You could have stopped at number two.”

“NO, YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED AT NUMBER TWO!!!”

This guy was like a ticking time bomb, the slightest provocation set him off.

His comeback didn’t even make sense, but I didn’t want to rile him up any further.

“We like Informant Zero,”  the cowboy said.  “We want to keep him around.  People are only allowed to conduct business with him when they follow the rules, capiche?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to…”

Another tug on my sleeve from Delilah.

“We capiche,” she assured our guide.  “We very much capiche, thank you Mr. Redacted.”

“All right then,”  the cowboy said as the elevator dinged.  “As long as you kemo sabes capiche.”

The doors opened and we stepped inside.

“Enjoy your visit and tell old IZ I said hello.”

Just before the doors closed, I snuck in a, “Go suck some cottage cheese ya’ sick bastard.”

And just before our descent, I heard a fist pound the metal doors, followed by an, “OW!!!  SON OF A…”

“Mr. Hatcher, that was quite uncalled for.”

“I’m sorry Ms. Donnelly.  I just didn’t like the cut of his jib.”

“Well you’re going to have to get used to jibs of all different shapes and sizes if you’re going to make it in this world.  The days when everyone marches to the tune of the same drummer are long gone.”

“Tell me about it.”

Like a trip to Veracruz, it was a long ride.

As we continued to plummet deep below the Earth’s surface, Delilah piped up again.

“Mr. Hatcher, were the olden days really that good?”

“Not at all,”  I said.  “Everyone foisted their personal beliefs on you and threatened to ruin you if you didn’t comply.”

“So why are you in such a hurry to get away from the present?”

I didn’t skip a beat.

“Because everyone foists their personal beliefs on me and threatens to ruin me if I don’t comply.”

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Aug 09 2015
6 Comments
Ask the Alien

Ask the Alien – 8/9/15 – A.H. Browne – Do Aliens Still Probe?

By:  Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

Plus 5, carry the one = get some more roughage in your diet.

Plus 5, carry the one = get some more roughage in your diet.

Greetings Earth losers!

Earth losers, this is a very special edition of Ask the Alien.

Sometimes societies do things that are wrong and don’t realize those actions are wrong until years later.

It’s happened on your planet.  Europeans arrived in the New World, declared it to be theirs, ignoring the natives’ protests of, “Hey, guys, we’re right here.  We can totally hear you.”

To put it in perspective, imagine how P.O.’d you’d be if you were relaxing in your living room, watching some human sporting event, enjoying a beer and a pizza and out of nowhere, a European explorer plunks a flag down on your barca lounger and announces your crap is his crap now.

But I digress.

Aliens have their own sordid past and a question from science fiction author A.H. Browne of “Pouring my Art Out” causes this outer space traveler to rehash a dark time in my species’ history:

Actually, my first question was going to be; “Uh, you aren’t going to probe us, are you?” You jumped the gun on that one.

Indeed, I’ve addressed this difficult topic before, but since only 3.5 people read Bookshelf Q. Battler’s nonsense, it’s worth repeating.

Yes, it’s true.  In the past, and for many, many years, our Supreme Overlord, the Mighty Potentate, commissioned a series of abductions, which were carried out as follows:

  • Kidnap humans
  • Insert probing devices in hind quarters
  • Retrieve data on what makes humans tick, how they function, and what they had for breakfast
  • Return humans to Earth.
  • Spritz them with gin so NOBODY believes them.
  • In fact, to make sure nobody believes them, we usually took eccentric folk in the first place.  You know that guy at the bar who’s always babbling about how the government is reading his mind and cats are actually spies that report all of your activities to the CIA?  Yeah, we’d usually scoop him up in a heartbeat.

Was probing our finest hour?

No, but we learned a lot about you and after 10,000 years of experience, we offer, in the name of peace and putting this sad chapter behind us, the full summation of our probing knowledge:

Eat more fiber.  Seriously.  You’re all backed up worse than I95 after a semi-truck rollover in the eastbound express lane.

Further, a public service announcement:

The Mighty Potentate cancelled the probing project over a thousand years ago.  There has not been an officially sanctioned probing expedition since medieval times.  If you want to know why the dark ages were full of angry people who were constantly hacking each other to pieces, it’s because they were so angry that we were probing the bejesus out of them.

But that’s all done now.  Once we reached the limit of all possible data available through lodging roving robotic devices into human nether regions, the MP put the kibosh on the whole deal.  After all, no one wants to waste their time watching something they’ve already seen.  It’s like MASH.  Why are the reruns still on the air?  We get it, Klinger.  You’re wearing that dress in the hopes the brass will send you home.

However, we do have some young aliens who don’t know any better.  Your human teenagers range from 13-19.  Our aliens have their young and dumb period between 100-1,000.  I always say, “Boy, I hope no one thinks ill of me just because of some stupid stuff I did when I was 999 and didn’t know any better.”

Anyway, our younguns often get rowdy and their idea of a fun Saturday night includes:

  • Flying to Earth
  • Probing humans
  • Teleporting cows to different locations, thus confusing the cow and the human farmer who’s left wondering where his cow went.
  • Crop circles (the Mighty Potentate had once ordered these markings to show our shock troops where to land, but the hostile takeover was cancelled once your planet invented reality TV, thus proving to the MP that your species wouldn’t be a welcome addition to his empire.)

In short, if an alien demands to probe you, he does this without the Mighty Potentate’s blessing, and thus you may feel free to defend yourself from insertion of a Probe-o-matic.

Usually, all you have to do is state to the alien intruder, “I’m telling the Mighty Potentate on you!” and they’ll skeedaddle.

Ornery aliens always wise up once the possibility of vaporization is on the table.

Now that you humans no longer have to fear probing, might I suggest that you use your new found free time to read one of Browne’s books?  For example, a lazy, opinionated janitor at an intergalactic Texas saloon becomes an unlikely hero during a spaceship hijacking in Saloon at the Edge of Nowhere.

Browne seems to have a good sense of humor, so the 3.5 of you who enjoy BQB’s scribblings will probably like this book too.

(Did I really get through an article about probing and not make a Browne/brown pun?  I’m slipping.)

Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, on a mission to raise Earth’s collective intelligence levels one question at a time. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Tweet it to @bookshelfbattle on Twitter, leave it in the comments on bookshelfbattle.com, or stop by Bookshelf Battle on Google Plus. If he likes your question, he might even promote your book, blog, other project in his answer.

Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Aug 08 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries: Fan Dime Drops – For the 3.5 – (Part 4 – Conclusion)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1      Part 2       Part 3

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE

“A third and final question, Mr. Hatcher.”

“Lay it on me, Ms. Donnelly.”

DELILAH:  Java Davis, The Road Trip Writer wants to know why there were so many characters named Johnny in old timey films?

I drummed my fingers along the edge of the table, stalling for time as Delilah stared me down, certain I’d been stumped.

“Davis,”  I said.  “Java Davis.  Word on the street is he’s the nineteenth scribe to take a whirl on Mr. Battler’s blog.  Must be a big time player to to rake in that kind of action.”

Delilah folded her hands and leaned in.shutterstock_239019775

“Do you give up?”

I rose to my feet and paced about, practically wearing a hole in the library’s carpet.

It came to me.

“They didn’t have self-publishing in those days,”  I explained.  “Establishment writers were free to be hacks.  They dished out the slop and the audiences ate it up like ice cream because unlike today’s discerning entertainment connoisseur, they didn’t know any better.”

The lady lawyer returned the dossier to her briefcase and pointed a gloved finger my way.

“You certainly have a talent, Mr. Hatcher.”

“Deduction is but one of my many talents, Ms. Donnelly,” I said as I raised my right eyebrow in a shifty manner.  “Perhaps you’ll let me show you my others sometime.”

The blonde rested a hand on my shoulder.  The gesture was more than welcome.

“Perhaps not.”

Once again, she walked out of my life, a brief distraction from an otherwise lonely existence.

I was sad to see her go, but what a pleasure to watch her leave.

For a brief moment, I was lost in my dreams of blonde bliss, only to be distracted by an old bag of wrinkles.

“You’re going to stare a hole in that behind,”  Agnes said.

“It’s the little things in life, Ag,”  I said, still gawking at Delilah from the study room doorway  as she waited for the elevator.  “Put a cork in it and let me enjoy it, will you?”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

“Nah,”  I said.  “The man upstairs would never be so good to me.  Just someone I work with.”

Agnes was taken aback.

“Work?  You found a job!  Congratulations!  What are you doing?”

“Already told you.  I’m a highly skilled private investigator who tracks down questions to answers about pop culture posed by an anonymous blogger.  She’s his lawyer who brings me the cases.”

The old gal squinted and stared at me like I was from outer space.

“You’re serious?”

“Like a heart attack.”

“You weren’t lying?”

“Ma Hatcher didn’t raise a liar, ma’am.”

Agnes took a seat.  The news that I actually was a private eye threw her for a loop.

“Between the idea that that woman would be your girlfriend or that that woman works with you for a blog that you solve pop culture mysteries for, I have to admit the latter is more plausible.”

“Thanks Ag,”  I said.  “Thanks a lot.  Class over?”

“Yes,”  Agnes replied.  “One of my students had chest pains so I called it a day early.”

“Think I will too.”

“Oh Jake,”  Agnes said.  “I’m sorry.  I offended you didn’t I?”

“Nothing sticks to this gumshoe.  It all rolls off, like water off a duck’s back.”

“Have you made a move yet?”

I took a seat on the other side of the table.  My relationship with Agnes was becoming weird.  Technically, I was older than she was, but she didn’t know that, and she was quickly becoming my impromptu mother.

I think Ma Hatcher would have been ok with it.

“I’ve made more moves on her than a world champion chess player, but my bishop isn’t going anywhere near that queen.”

“Never say never.  Herb had to ask me a bunch of times before I came around.  I’ll never forget it, there was this one time we were at the park, and he got down on one knee and the birds were singing and…”

I stretched, yawned, and checked my pocket watch.

“Great Liberace’s piano, Agnes!  Look at the time.  I’d best skeedaddle.  Take it easy, kid.”

“Oh sure.  I listen to you, you don’t listen to me.  Just like my son.”

She sniffed the air.  Sniff.  Sniff.  Sniff.

“Have you been smoking in here?  This is a PUBLIC building you jackass!”

shutterstock_278169329

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Aug 07 2015
12 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Picking Your Character Names

Hey 3.5 Readers,

Your old pal Bookshelf Q. Battler is bummed out.

Actually, can you forget that I’m Bookshelf Q. Battler for a minute?

I’ve heard rumors that this blog isn’t actually run by BQB.  That there’s just some random anonymous person behind this all.  “A man behind the curtain” if you will.

Poppycock, I know, but just pretend I’m that guy for a minute.

Pop Culture Mysteries has become such an enjoyable part of my life.  Am I counting the riches from possible PCM novels?

No.

But I’ve tried writing novels my entire life only to write myself in a corner, wish I’d put in a key detail earlier, decide it needs a major overhaul, and just move onto something else.

Why PCM works for me is that when I write it, I step into shoes and become Jake.  I’m just a guy telling a story about a long, remarkable life.

And if I think of key details later?  Jake just happens to remember them.

The result is that I’ve been writing and building this world since April with no signs of losing interest, gaining more interest by the day if anything, and that’s a record for me.

When I write myself into a corner, Jake just pole vaults over it.

I’m happy and that long yearned for novel no longer seems as out of reach as it used to be.

SO WHY AM I BUMMED?

Here’s what happened to me today that knocked me out like an uppercut from the Jersey Jabber:

  1.  While looking for a new book to read, I came across Larry Correia’s Grimnoir series.  It’s fantasy/horror meets hardboiled noir.  In book 1, the hero, Jake Sullivan, takes on monsters and is tricked into thinking an old girlfriend, Delilah Jones, is a bankrobber.

OK, so Larry has written a noir book.  It has characters named “Jake Sullivan and Delilah Jones.”

I’m writing a noir blog with hopes to write noir novels based on that blog.  My characters are “Jake Hatcher and Delilah K. Donnelly.”

The stories could not be more different.  Larry’s Jake Sullivan is an ex-con who wields magical powers.  My Jake Hatcher is a guy who fell asleep in 1955, woke up in 2014, and now in 2015 strikes a deal that he’ll solve 100 mysteries for a blogger in exchange for the information that will lead him back to his own time.

Larry’s is fantasy/horror.  Mine is a parody of pop culture as well as a humorous look at the present as seen through the eyes of a person from the past, how some of the things we do today would seem goofy to a person just getting used to the new world for the first time.

My story, Pop Culture Mysteries,  started as a goof, a hard boiled detective solving “mysteries” like what happened to the first Brady Bunch spouses but then lo and behold, in my mind, a whole world and backstory started for Jake, one where I think actual novels are possible.  It’s also intended as a spoof of noir style itself, Jake speaking in that stereotypical tough guy exaggeration filled, comparison laden cadence that old time detectives are known for.

So the two books are different, but you know how haters and online trolls are.

Probably one dingus out there will be like “Bahh there was a noir novel with Jake and Delilah and YOU wrote a noir novel with Jake and Delilah.”

I had no idea.  Had I never come across the book I’d of gone forward without knowing.

So the first question – does this mean MY Jake and Delilah can no longer be Jake and Delilah?  Do one of mine, either Jake OR Delilah, have to get a name change?

The premise makes me sad because, well, call me sad if you must but it’s almost like Jake and Delilah have become my friends.  My life is made so much better when I sit down at my computer every night to figure out what’s going to happen to them next.

2)  That lit a fire under my butt to do some more research.  Low and behold, there are a ton of detective stories with detectives named Jake.  I debated in my mind – I don’t think THAT reason alone is enough to change Jake’s name because if it’s a parody, then what’s one more Jake?

I mean, Jack, John, Fred, Tom, whatever – if it’s a traditional name, there’s a million stories already where that first name has been used.

3)  But – and this is what gets me, I did find another novel on amazon – “Diabolical” by Hank Schwaeble that’s a mix of horror and noir and the hero’s name?  JAKE HATCHER!  BOOOO!!! BOO!!!!  (Sorry Hank, that boo’s not on you personally, just that I can’t catch a break.

4)  So does that mean my hero can’t be Jake Hatcher?  I mean, how far do we take this?  If I write Steve Smith, can you never have a Steve Smith?

I get it if the name is really unique.  Like I can’t write a novel about an accountant called “Lando Calrissian.”  I almost laughed it off but I guess if this guy wrote a noir-ish novel about a guy named Jake Hatcher, then could that be a problem?

If my novel was about Jake Hatcher the janitor fighting for custody of his kids in a drama then it’s probably fine but I guess I am writing a noir, even if mine is a comical noir.

5)  What bugs me is I did research this every which way and a)  I really don’t want to change the names but b) if I’m going to put all the work in to start a Pop Culture Mysteries site and companion novels, then I don’t want some troll being like “you stole those names!”  even though I didn’t at all.

6)  And then my worry is this – there is SO, SO, SO MUCH written material out there, it’s not only possible that the name of your novel in a character was used before, it’s a given.  What if I go back to the drawing board, name my Jake and Delilah something else, and lo and behold, like what if name them Ned and Carol and someone points to an obscure novel I never heard of and they’re like “Ooo you stole those names from the Ned and Carol series!”

7)  It’s gotten me so paranoid that I’m starting to worry someone’s going to pop out of a bush and yell, “Hey you son of a B$%ch!  I’M BOOKSHELF Q BATTLER!  STOP USING MY NAME!!!

8)  Is this just all in my head?  Are these issues to worry about or not?  Is this just something that happens in fiction all the time?

9)  Can I press forward and just keep calling my dear Pop Culture Mystery friends “Jake and Delilah?”  Is it ever possible to think up names that someone wont have a problem with?

I don’t know.  Help me out 3.5 readers.

I guess if you want me to boil down this rant:

  1.  Should I change Jake and Delilah’s names?
  2. Or should I bother because unless I call them Jaboozle and Dawoozle, every name has been used in a novel before and I’m just worrying too much?
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Aug 07 2015
5 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries: Fan Dime Drops – For the 3.5 (Part 3)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1    Part 2

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

“Perhaps I was in the wrong to complain about this situation,”  I said.  “After all, being cooped up with the most beautiful woman in the world isn’t so bad.”

That would have worked on my first wife, Trixie, who was all looks and no brains.  Delilah, on the other hand, was the whole package and that meant nothing but disappointment for yours truly.

“Do gain control of your loins and prepare for the next question.”

DELILAH:  Mr. Hatcher, a Ms. Barb Knowles reported this dilemma:

“I have a question for Jake. Can he PLEASE find out how Robert Ludlum has published more books since his demise than he did when he was alive??”

Read Barb’s blog at saneteachers.com 

“Who’s this gal?”

“A teacher,”  Ms. Donnelly explained.  “She writes about ‘the things they never taught her in teacher school.'”

“I don’t envy anyone who has to educate kids in this day in age,”  I said.  “Hell, even my kid brother Roscoe and I were known to drive the occasional chaulk jockey bananas back in our day.  What tricks are kids pulling now?  Whoopie cushions?  Joybuzzers?  Rubber snakes in the peanut brittle can?  Tack on the teacher’s chair?”

“I suppose those are all things that teachers of today have to deal with now and then,”  shutterstock_207933922Ms. Donnelly said.  “When they aren’t busy worrying about drugs and weapons coming into the schools.”

I coughed from surprise.  One of many reasons why I no longer recognized the world I lived in.

“Sorry I asked,”  I said.

I rubbed my thumb and fingers together, making the international sign for money.

“It’s all about the cash-ola,”  I said.  “The green stuff.  The bread.  The lettuce.  The cabbage.”

“Yes, I understand, Mr. Hatcher.”

“An author’s readers are a form of currency,”  I said.  “They’re an asset and like a piece of land, or a house, or a watch, they can be transferred and utilized after the author’s demise.  An author’s name is something his heirs can cash in on and before you’re quick to judge them, you should realize that you probably wouldn’t run in the opposite direction if some extra scratch was coming your way.”

I needed another puff.

“In Ludlum’s case, I bet there are some readers who aren’t even aware he’s gone.  Folks just see ‘Ludlum’ and grab the book like one of Ma Hatcher’s prize winning flapjacks at the county fair.  Other readers are aware but are happy to see stories set in a world they enjoy continue.  And if you’re a writer, and a new writer continues spinning yarns off of a spool you built, don’t you still deserve some credit in the form of your name being slapped on the cover, albeit posthumously?”

“An astute deduction, Mr. Hatcher.”

“Who’s next, sweetheart?”

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Aug 05 2015
5 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – Fan Dime Drops – For the 3.5 (Part 1)

By:  Jake Hatcher, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Private Eye

BQB Editorial Note:  3.5 readers, as the Spanish might say, “mi private dick es su private dick.”  If you have questions about pop culture, put Hatcher on the case.  Drop a dime to @bookshelfbattle on twitter or in the comments below and I’ll engage Ms. Donnelly to deliver them to our resident gumshoe posthaste.

Because he’s a busy man, it might take Hatcher awhile to get to it, but sooner or later, he will.  Here’s his first Fan Dime Drop Report.

It was the answer to my prayers. The man upstairs had finally gotten tired of kicking me in the keister and dropped a big win in my lap.

Moolah was involved. Lots of moolah. And it was all about to be mine. All mine.

Dear Sir or Possibly Madam as the Case May Be,

Greetings!

Congratulations are in order, for you have been identified as the long lost distant cousin of my client, Prince Matombo of the Blessed Land Known as Nigeria.

Perhaps you have heard of the passing of our King and that he has bestowed all of his wealth, a sum of one hundred million American Dollars, upon the Prince.

Alas, banking laws in my country are so ruefully complicated that it is impossible to transfer this fortune to His Highness directly.

However, the Prince has stated to me, his advisor, that he trusts you, for you are his distant relative. If you provide me with your bank account number, I shall be happy to transfer the 100 million to your account.

It is then requested that you forward 90 million back to the Prince, but for your troubles, His Majesty has agreed to allow you to keep 10 million of your very own and hopes that you will enjoy it in good health.

Please provide me with your banking information right away so that this transfer may begin.

Sincerely,

Jerome Jakande
Advisor to His Highness, the Most Regal and Just Prince Mutombo of Nigeria

“Hot digity damn!” I shouted.

Everyone in the computer class turned around. I put my head down and went about my business.

Best to remain on the down low when that much scratch is involved.

Imagine it. Ten million smackers. That’s a whole helluvalot of do re mi. My own mansion. A fleet of fancy cars. A yacht.

Agnes the Librarian. She thinks Hatcher's a dick, but not the private kind.

Agnes the Librarian. She thinks Hatcher’s a dick, but not the private kind.

I could fill it up with buxom broads, head out to sea, and finally put my trash heap of a life behind me.

Agnes’ shrill cake hole horned in on my fun. Blast her incessant yammering.

“Class, last week we learned how to set up e-mail accounts,”  the old librarian said from the front of the library’s computer classroom.  “This week we’re going to learn how to write a short, concise e-mail and how to send it out.”

“Agnes!” I whispered

“Now the e-mail you write doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just a few words…”

“Psst! Agnes!”

“Maybe you can write about what you did today, what you had for breakfast this morning, or just write a bunch of gibberish, it really doesn’t matter because we’re just getting a feel for what all the different functions do….”

“HEY AGNES!”

“Oh for the love of…”

Agnes marched over to my beep boop station and looked at me like I’d just stuck my finger in her pudding.

“What is it?!”

“Keep your voice down,” I said quietly.

I looked around to see if anyone was looking.  Agnes’ “Intro to Computing” course was full of a bunch of geriatric fogies who could barely contain their drool, let alone work a beep boop machine.

Not that I was any better at it than they were

“Do you see this?” I whispered as I pointed at the screen.

“Huh,” Agnes said as she grabbed the pair of spectacles dangling around her neck on a chain and lifted them up to her eyes.

“I didn’t even know I was part-Nigerian,” I said. “Think it’s a mistake? God, I hope not. I sure could use an extra family member right about now.”

“Jake,” Agnes said. “This is a scam.”

“What?”

“A trick,” the old gal said. “This person doesn’t know a Nigerian prince. Whoever this is, he just wants you to send him your bank account number so he can withdraw all your money and keep it for himself.”

Boy, talk about letting the wind out of my sails.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I can usually spot a grift from fifty paces and this Prince Matombo character doesn’t seem like such a bad fella.”

“It’s the biggest scam going on the Internet,” Agnes said. “Just click the X button at the top of the window and close it out.”

“Joke’s on him then,”  I said.  “I haven’t got two plug nickels to rub together.”

“I know dear,”  Agnes said as she patted me on the back.  “I keep telling you that you really need to work on that.”

Agnes returned to her podium and left me high and dry.

A con job. A bamboozle. A flim flam.

And to think I, Jake Hatcher, infamous investigator extraordinaire, came dangerously close to getting caught up in it like a fat tuna trapped in a fisherman’s net.

I clicked the X.

I wasn’t sure what depressed me more.  Losing the ten million or learning I had a relative only to have the rug pulled out from under me.

Maybe that was a sign I was lonelier than a weasel trapped in a burlap sack.

But not for long.

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

Someone was rapping on the glass window near my work station.  I was too engrossed with the Matombo fiasco to pay attention.

“Now class, maybe you’ll want to add an attachment to your e-mail.  Maybe it could be a nice photo of your family that you want to send to your friends.  All you do is…”

Tap.  Tap. Tap.

“…click on the paper clip button and…”

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

Agnes grew visibly annoyed.  For some reason, she always looked that way whenever I was around.  I don’t know why.  Maybe she was just one of those people with a bad attitude.

“Jake,”  Agnes said.  “That blonde woman at the window is trying to get your attention.”

I turned around to find an angel in my presence.  It was the woman of my dreams, Delilah K. Donnelly, no doubt arrived to deliver yet another missive from our mutual client, Mr. Bookshelf Q. Battler.

“Yes,”  I said.

I stood up and put my hands up.

“Carry on, geezers,”  I said.  “No one go dying on me while I’m gone.”

From the looks of Agnes’ students, that was probably too much to ask for.

I stepped out onto the main floor and greeted my visitor.

“Ms. Donnelly,”  I said.  “So wonderful to see you.”

“The pleasure is all yours, Mr. Hatcher.  Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Copyright 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.

All Rights Reserved.

Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Aug 04 2015
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One a Day Post Challenge

State of the Bookshelf: The Home Stretch of the One Post a Day Challenge

Hello 3.5 readers,

Internationally known awesome person Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

I can claim to be “internationally known” because according to my WordPress stat map, this Antarctica resident is clicking the crap out of this blog:

God bless you, Mr. Tuxedo

God bless you, Mr. Tuxedo

As 3.5 of you might recall, I announced at the beginning of this year that I would be undertaking a one post a day for a year challenge.

Time flies when you’re overextending yourself because here we are, with less of this year ahead than behind, and I have yet to miss one day of posting despite repeated and insufferable Yeti attacks.

Stupid Yeti

Stupid Yeti

Has it been worth it?  The numbers don’t like.  My WordPress, Twitter, and Google Plus Followers are all up and, if you’ll indulge me with some shameless begging, anything you could do to keep those digits on the upswing would be appreciated.

So what’s next?

None of this is set in stone, but here’s where my mind is at the moment:

1)  Finish out the one post a day for a year challenge – I’ve come this far, I have to finish.  One post a day until the end of the year.  Then, no matter what happens next, I’ll at least be able to say I did that.  It does help.  The more you put yourself out there, the more interest occurs.

2)  Spread the Indie Karma – If you follow @bookshelfbattle on Twitter (another plug), you may have noticed that I’ve been on a “plug indie books/authors” kick lately.  That’s because I’ve been looking for indie books/authors, not to mention bloggers, that catch my eye and spreading the good will.  I’m hopeful that by putting positive vibes out into the universe, the universe will eventually return that positive energy to me tenfold.

3)  Keep Alien Jones Going – Heavy is the head that wears the burden of being an alien race’s chosen one.  I didn’t ask for this burden, but the Mighty Potentate has spoken and designated me as the writer whose fiction can keep the spread of reality television at bay.  The MP forsees that my books will draw so much interest that people will have zero interest in shows about makeovers and/or beautiful people acting like dummies (unless they do so in a fictional manner.)  To that end, the MP’s emissary, Alien Jones, will keep answering your questions.  All summer, he’s been on a hot streak, where a week has yet to go by without him having a question to answer.  He might not answer your question in the week it is asked, but I like to bank a few ahead to keep the streak going.  He’s helped 19 authors so far, and that’s so many more than I envisioned when I, as a blogger who claims to own a magic bookshelf, put it out there that I have an alien buddy taking your inquiries.  So please, keep the questions coming.

4)  Pop Culture Mysteries – That’s an even longer discussion.  Here goes:

  • A Second “Spin-Off” Blog –   Cheers begat Frasier.  Buffy begat Angel.  Bookshelf Battle begat Pop Culture Mysteries.  Is it wise to divide my attention between two blogs?  I’ve thought about that a lot.  I don’t know for sure.  If you run two or more blogs, give me some input.  Part of me thinks Bookshelf Battle and Pop Culture Mysteries should stick together to keep the hit rates high on one blog.  Another part is leaning toward Pop Culture Mysteries deserving its own home, a blog that with an ongoing story that will coincide with books featuring our resident Pop Culture Detective, Jake Hatcher.
  • Finish Writing Season One on Bookshelf Battle – I’m thinking Hatcher’s Case Files (where he investigates a Pop Culture Question and in doing so, often lets the readers in on information about his past and present lives (i.e. before and after the long nap) will be packaged into a season.  Each season will end with a book that I’ll put out on Amazon, if Mr. Bezos will have me.
  • Where Season One is Headed – Thus far, it’s mostly been about setting up the main characters.  I anticipate by the end of the season, we’ll learn that during World War II, Jake obtained, “something” that a nefarious ne’er-do-well wants, and so the first Jake Hatcher book will be about how he acquired that something (and more importantly, how Jake punched Adolf Hitler in the face to get it).
  • This Season Isn’t Set in Stone – What you’re reading on Bookshelf Battle is essentially Jake’s rough drafts.  The stories may very well change as Jake and I exchange notes through Ms. Donnelly, and as Jake remembers more info.  Once this season is in the can, the finished, polished posts will start appearing on the spin-off blog.  Once this season is finished, Jake and I move to the pressing business of getting his first novel out.

5)  Writer’s Waterfall – This isn’t meant as a brag, but while some people have writer’s block, I have writer’s waterfall.  I have so many ideas and so many half-written novels I don’t know where to begin.  Sometimes, you have to just pick something and go for it.  I have other ideas I want to work on, but I have limited time, so I can only work on one idea at a time.  Presently, it looks like Jake’s it.  His stories are creative, fun, and best of all, they have a structure that aids story telling.  Ms. Donnelly gave a brief outline of Jake’s entire life in Enter the Blonde, so the rest of the series is essentially one man remembering the details and filling in the blanks.  He’s telling his life story just like you might tell yours to someone listening.

Speaking of, thanks for listening, 3.5 readers.  Will I ever fulfill the Mighty Potentate’s faith in me?  I don’t know, but you 3.5 have at the very least provided me with an enjoyable way to spend my free time.

Have I laid out a good course of action for the road ahead, 3.5?  Provide me with your copious input, both good, bad, and indifferent.

Sincerely,

Bookshelf Q. Battler

Blogger-in-Chief

Bookshelf Battle Blog

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Aug 01 2015
11 Comments
Ask the Alien

Free Promo Do-Over – Free Promo Saturday

Oh alright.

Promote anything you want in the comments below all day Saturday…

…and you don’t have to swear fealty to the Mighty Potentate at all.

Just don’t tell him I said that.  I don’t want to be vaporized.

(Those who do hail the Mighty Potentate will get a promotional tweet as well though.)

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

Gee whiz, asking your 3.5 readers to pledge allegiance to an alien overlord goes over like a lead balloon around here.

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Jul 31 2015
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Ask the Alien

Free Promo Friday (With a Catch)

Attention Pitiful Humans,

Know ye, Earth creatures, that I, the Mighty Potentate, declare the following:

  • This Friday, July 31 and this Friday only…
  • You may plug whatever you want to plug in the comments section below.  Books.  Blogs.  Whatever.
  • Bookshelf Q. Battler reserves the right to not allow it, especially if you’re book is titled “Hooray for Hitler!”
  • Share a link to your books, blogs.  Share a blurb what it’s all about…

BUT – THE CATCH…

At the end of your comment, you must swear fealty to the Mighty Potentate.

A simple, “ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!” shall suffice, but feel free to get creative.

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

For those 3.5 readers just tuning in, the Mighty Potentate is the Supreme and Unquestionable Ruler of A Planet the Name of Which is None of Your Beeswax.

He of Great Potentostitude is the boss of Alien Jones, author of “Ask the Alien.”  The MP has declared Bookshelf Q. Battler to be the chosen one, the individual whose exceptional fiction writing skills will surely prevent reality television from sweeping across the universe.

Boy howdy, does the Mighty Potentate hate Reality TV.  Don’t even get him started.

Thus, the MP has assigned AJ to aid BQB in the promotion of his blog.  Alien Jones cannot rest until Bookshelf Q. Battler is a famous writer.

So go forth, promote your stuff in the comments below, and remember, you have to say, “All Hail the Mighty Potentate” or some reasonable facsimile thereof.

Remember, a column that plugs you as an author and your books and blogs is possible if you ask Alien Jones a question.

Image courtesy of openclipart.org

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