Bathysphere Battle

For a glimpse into the soon-to-be-published
Novel #30, let's tune in to a series of recent
dispatches:

"I think part of the problem is I'm reading
this crazed book before going to sleep.
The World Beneath the Sea, 1953, by
Otis Barton. He's a complete maniac,
a 1930's era naturalist who uses dynamite
to blow up fish, blasts shrikes in caves
with a shotgun, tries to get a sawfish and
a mako shark to fight on camera, rips
the beak off a giant squid, etc. etc.
He's a horror show. But I can't put
the book down!"

J. Genius warned:
"Yuck. That is harrowing stuff. You've got
to be careful, it lodges in your innermost
crevices and remains a lifetime. PUT IT
DOWN! BURN IT! Seriously though,
you got to be careful what you feed your
mind/soul. Ripping the beak off a giant
squid is something I would never have
considered."

Yet, after a day passed,
J. Genius wrote back:
"I've got to know what Otis Barton
is up to now?? What horrific delicasies
did he serve up last night?"


I responded:
"I ditched him. I'll let you know a little
more though. See, I wrote this novel
where a fellow lives in a bathysphere,
so I had to do some research on
bathyspheres. Which led me to
William Beebe who made the famous
half-mile deep dive record and wrote
a couple good books about his
adventures.



Meanwhile...well...there's Otis Barton...
lurking in Beebe's shadow. Otis invented
the bathysphere and presented it to
Beebe. Beebe took him along for several
drops in it. (Though Beebe claims that
Barton would get hysterical and moody.)
Sure enough, the two clashed.

Actually, in a funny passage from

his book, Otis describes how he and

his Irish mechanic were working on

the bathysphere in the early morning,

covered in oil, cursing, and Beebe

arrives on motorboat, wearing a

white suit, with several young students

from Dartmouth in tow. Oh, it's a great

scene! So Otis carried a grudge, you

can tell. But man! That book of Otis'

is alternately fascinating and horrifying.

He was a complete maniac animal

killer. But his book also has great

moments like the Peruvian army

trying to steal a village's golden

Inca idol, but the villagers slip off

into the jungles with it, but not

before the soldiers notice a huge

furred two-fingered hand reaching

above the tree level and plucking

down a bundle of bananas.

Otis Barton was convinced

the villagers were also hiding

a presumed extinct Ice Age-era

giant sloth said to be 50 feet tall!
But I think Otis was getting

under my skin a bit, thrashing

into my dreams with a machete,

so I returned his book yesterday,

unfinished. Like you said, you

have to be careful with stuff like

that."

J. Genius returned:

"Holy Toledo! That sounds like an

incredible novel. I cannot wait to read

it! The tales of Barton and Beebe are

the very stuff of those great adventures,

pre 1950's or so, which shall never

again come to pass (at least not in

our lifetimes)."

Reply:

"Well, I've been thinking. I may have

to get Otis Barton's book again. I know

it's like going back around the corner

of the garage to check on wasp nest

after you chucked a rock at it, but I

can't shake it. I've been reading this

other book called Descent that came

out in 2005 and it goes into a lot of

detail on the Beebe/Barton feud.

(I guess it's the Donahue in me that

finds it so fascinating.) It just got

better though: After Beebe's book

Half Mile Down became an instant

best seller, Barton felt left out of the

limelight and patched together a

movie called Titans of the Deep.

He put Beebe's name on the poster,

along with his own and filled the film

with stock footage of shark attacks,

animal battles, and a lady skindiver.

Beebe saw it at a New York city

matinee and was horrified,

immediately notifying the New

York Times and Science magazine

that he had nothing to do with

the torrid film. Oh, it's a most

fascinating slice of time, it's a

tidepool drama I'm up to my

neck in."

J. Genius concluded:

"'...I guess it's the Donahue in me...'

Well then, mon frer, that makes TWO

of us. Because I find your accounts of

these fellows simply rivetting! If you can

get these guys into your new novel it

will be a New York Times Bestseller."

News clipping glued into cover of

Otis Barton's library book.

Well, Barton and Beebe aren't in my

new book, but the bathysphere certainly

is. As for bestseller, I guess I can only

hope.

Velocipede

The History Channel called today. A woman is

researching for a television show on velocipedes

and she found out through the internet colossus

that I wrote a book called Velocipede.

Unfortunately, I had to let her know it was

a novel. She laughed, we hung up. Almost

my big break. A swimming pool and platinum

Hollywood pearls seep through my hands.

Afterwards, I wished I could have sent her

a copy. Written and self-published in 2002,

Velocipede takes place on the border of Aztlan.

It's a 3 part storyline featuring:

1) A factory worker who makes velocipedes.

2) A wrestler named Clover and his manager.

3) A U.S government agent, who runs out of

gas in the desert, "with his long cape of stars,

red sleeves rolled up to his elbows and blue

legs standing amid the cactus."

Novel #31 Ending

Finished draft for 31st novel this weekend.

See above for sneak preview movie finale.

Cardboard Golden Gate

Golden Gate Bridge transplanted to backyard

Cardboard Kapitalist

The author with Ed Wood,
wearing the Kapitalism cuckoo clock

Close-up, note cuckoo with stake through heart.
Unfortunately, the clock was donated to a
short-lived artist co-op, last seen in the basement of
Bellingham's abandoned J.C Penny downtown

Cardboard Creations Inc.

cardboard Don Quixote windmill
made during end of August
for imaginary miniature golf course