Author: rharrisonauthor

International man of mystery. Well not really, although I can mangle several languages and even read the occasional hieroglyphic. A computer scientist, an author and one of the very few people who has both an NIH grant and had a book contract. An ex- booktrope author and a photographer.

The Churning, Justin Edison

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THE CHURNING

By Justin Edison

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON NOW!

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Synopsis

In Justin Edison’s second novel, Persian-American soccer star Arman Hessabi wakes in chains in a house of enemies. Driven in part by an abusive older brother, the hero feels his life is complete with the glory, women and riches afforded by a Premier League striker’s lifestyle. But he meets his match in Fat Man, Captain, Huck and Kay—men who hold him in thrall somewhere in Europe. Through trials, Hessabi comes to question his own ego and position in life. But is it too late for a soccer star with no apparent power over his own fate?

Author Bio

Justin A. Edison has been writing fiction and stories for twenty-odd years. A graduate of the Evansville and Hamline writing programs, he counts among his adventures a rocking semester at Harlaxton (in the British Midlands) and a tour of the Czech Republic. His pursuits include hiking, Web site design, trying to fix the world (in too many ways) and playing soccer (rather poorly). He lives in the Seattle area with his wife, two energetic kids and a vocal cat.

The Churning is his second novel.

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Author Links

To contact the author: edisonchurning@gmail.com

www.jedisonwriting.wordpress.com

https://www.facebook.com/ChurningBook?ref=hl

@jedisonbooks

BLOGGERS: REVIEW COPIES ARE AVAILABLE. PLEASE CONTACT THE AUTHOR.

Justin Edison Blog Tour Poster

Interlude

Edith Sitwell

Amid this hot green glowing gloom
A word falls with a raindrop’s boom…

Like baskets of ripe fruit in air
The bird-songs seem, suspended where

Those goldfinches—the ripe warm lights
Peck slyly at them—take quick flights.

My feet are feathered like a bird
Among the shadows scarcely heard;

I bring you branches green with dew
And fruits that you may crown anew

Your whirring waspish-gilded hair
Amid this cornucopia—

Until your warm lips bear the stains
And bird-blood leap within your veins.

Forbearance

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?
Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk?
At rich men’s tables eaten bread and pulse?
Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust?
And loved so well a high behavior,
In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained,
Nobility more nobly to repay?
O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!

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Fall Birds

I wanted to try an inexpensive mirror lens with a 2x extender for nature photography. It’s not bad, but not great either. The acuity is not as good as I’d like, and the depth of focus is paper thin. But when it works it’s pretty good.

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These seagulls were hunting shad on the far side of the lake, about 700 meters away.
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The flat field of focus can be really nice. I like this back-lit grass and weeds.

all photographs (c) 2015 Robert W. Harrison

She Walks in Beauty

George Gordon Byron

I.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

II.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

III.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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(c) 2014 Robert W Harrison

To my favorite walking partner, seen above in the beauty of the New Mexico dessert.

Mist

Henry David Thoreau

Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain-head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream-drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of lakes and seas and rivers,—
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men’s fields.

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My campsite for the night

Fog in Henry Coe State Park,
a wild place barely 20 miles from San Jose.
(c) 2010 Robert W Harrison

How to pretend you know how to draw.

These sketches make it look like I’m one heck of an artist, don’t they?
Ha! There’s a very good reason I write books. These were done using a bamboo pad and photographs (albeit ones I took). The images are from the UK, on various trips, and other than Jess (the dog) are what you find on footpaths.jess2horsecows2welsh_cat1

I drew on top of the originals, in a separate layer. Neat.

By the way, beware of the cows.

FrankenKitty 6 #wewriwar #amwriting #weareparis

Frankenkitty

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Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors.  This is a sample from my work in progress, “Frankenkitty”, and I hope you enjoy it.  It started out as a young-adult superhero book, and well, you’ll see. Last week they met Mrs. Jones, nee von Volkstein. Despite the premature reports of her death, Mrs. Jones was still alive. This week they start in on making the surprisingly powerful “pink solution.”

Amber, Mary and Jennifer spent an enjoyable afternoon reading the recipe. It was written on an enormous scale, starting with a hogshead of distilled or clean rainwater.
“That will never work,” Amber said, “We’ll have to scale it down.”

Some of the ingredients were easy to find, but many were decidedly oddball, and it took several passes through search engines to find modern names.

Jennifer scowled, “Red Cinnabar? Eight Drachms, what the heck’s a Drachm?”

Mary laughed, “Mercury sulfide, Amber, is your dad going to let us play with that? It’s poisonous.”

Amber pulled a dusty bottle from a shelf, “It was Grandpa’s; a Drachm is an old measure of weight; Look it up.”

Jennifer’s fingers were the fastest on her phone, “3.8879346 grams,” she laughed, “It says that’s three scruples.”

This is a work in progress. In other news, I’ve become a booktrope author, but more on that latter. It has meant a change in pen-name. Last Weeks is here and you can read the whole last chapter if you’d rather.

I’m also looking for reviewers for my nearly ready book “The Curious Profession of Dr. Craven”

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A Fun Thing to do with Young Children

This is a trick we used to do in Cub Scouts:
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Baking in a box. Take moderate-sized box, we usually used one the size used to deliver copier paper came in (24cm x 24cm x 48cm or so). Line the inside of the box and the lid with aluminium foil  (staples are a good way to attach it to the lid.) Put some stones or a tile on the bottom, both to hold down the box and to protect it from the coals. Run a few coat-hanger wires through about 2/3 of the way up to form a rack.

Light charcoal (this needs adult help or supervision), putting about 10 briquettes in an pan. The pan goes in the bottom of the box. When the lid is on the box, the air inside it will get to about 300-350 F (150-200C) which is well below the ignition temperature of paper, but more than hot enough to bake with.  A small tray with cookies or biscuits can go on the rack and after a few minutes will be baked. Since the temperature depends on how well the lid seals (there has to be some leakage to keep the coals burning, but this isn’t usually a problem), the exact baking time and temperature will vary.

Still it’s good fun, requires little advance preparation, and can be put together by 8-11 year old children without much assistance from mom or dad. Beats an “easy-bake” any  day.

Traditional Thanksgiving Turkey #recipe

This is our traditional way of preparing the thanksgiving bird.

Stuffing for a smallish turkey:

  • one loaf white bread
  • one pound cheap fatty pork sausage
  • four or five stalks of celery
  • one or two onions
  • salt, pepper, thyme, sage to taste
  • two eggs

Cook the sausage, crumbled up in small bits. Chop and add the onions and celery. Cook to sweat that. It should be limp but not browned. Add about 1 teaspoon dried sage and 2 teaspoons dried thyme.
It should look something like this:
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I would taste a small amount, and possibly add pepper (< 1 teaspoon) and maybe salt (there is usually plenty in the sausage). I typically use “lite” salt that has potassium chloride because I like the extra potassium in my diet.

While it’s cooking clean the bird, remembering to remove the neck and gizzards (use them to make gravy).
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Salt both the outside and inside of the bird. (The red dot is from a thermometer plug that’s common in the USA.) Find a pan which will fit it.
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Coarsely cut the bread into cubes and add to the mixture. Add the eggs to it and mix.
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I will typically deglaze the pan by putting about 1/2 cup of water in it and reducing that to about half the volume. It removes the brown, tasty residue from the pan and converts it into a brown, tasty liquid that gets added to the stuffing.

Stuff the bird. Cover in foil and bake at a moderate heat (300F, 150C) until done. I usually remove the foil about an hour before serving to let it color up.
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