Books Worth Reading
Life in the Philippines. World travel. Mid-century. For context, see my essays, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
Dad passed away in 1999, so there's no indexing this. Please comment if you recognize people or places.
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
What if science was to prove the doctrine of the immortal soul? Amil Leyta intended to work in orbital manufacturing, but his studies have taken an unexpected turn. He’s built a device that images the essence of life, evoking the discovery that there’s more than one type of soul.
They appear on his monitor at deathbed vigils, shining bright across the boundary between dimensions. He imagines they’re angels, guiding spirits to the between-life, and wonders if the Gods will allow what he must do next.
Because Amil knows how to bring them here.
All my titles are #KindleUnlimited.
Last year, I created a posable flying house model in Blender for a book cover, thinking I might later use it in Unreal Engine. I have since discovered there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to develop that skill set.
But it’s a cool model. Maybe there’s someone who’d like to fool around with it. There’s a narrative universe, and associated character art begging to be modeled and rigged. For a look at that, click here. For the story behind the model, click here.
If you’re interested, tell me in the comments.
Let’s share an experience. It won’t take more than a minute unless you want it to. Call it a favor, an act of generosity. Click in the box below the image where it says ‘Free Preview’.
Read a page or two. See what happens. I’ve been writing for ten years. This is my best work. It deserves an audience.
You can be part of that.
Please SHARE this post. Heading image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
After twenty-three years operating our elevator without mishap, our dog Ernie broke away from my grasp, poking his muzzle through the scissor gate at the worst possible moment. I hit the stop button. The car was three feet down from the middle floor landing. Ernie’s head and neck were squeezed between the gate and a concrete wall.
He cried, lost his water, strained to pull himself out. The gate was more robust than it needed to be. It took four tries to jerk it out of the track.
Ernie came away from the ordeal with a scuff on his neck. I pulled muscles in my back, neck, and hips during a last-ditch, adrenaline-fueled assault on the apparatus.
We were traumatized. Ernie trembled all night, going back and forth between us in the bed. I had to take him out at 3:30 this morning, something I haven’t had to do for two months.
Our friend and elevator mechanic Mike Zeller will install an accordion-style barrier. Until then, Ernie rides in my lap. Both my hands will be around his chest.
It’s Sunday. Linda’s at church, thanking God for a narrow escape.
John Dyer Writes 
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