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EK's STAR LOG
CATEGORY ARCHIVES:
NaNoWriMo 2010 Day 3 –
The Traveling Shovel of Death
Arrives at The Twighlight Manor

As has been requested (endlessly) EK's Star Log is returning to the internet. You can still read the original archive here... https://eelkat.wordpress.com 

The reason you couldn't find it is because I set it to private un-index mode, meaning it no longer shows up in Google search results and can only be accessed by a direct link.

Meaning, if you didn't have the url for it, no amount of searching for it would tell you how to find it. Anyone who had the url could still access it though.

I had set it to private September 23, 2013, intending to move each page here to EelKat.com... however, November 14, 2013, after only moving about 30 pages, I was beaten up and left paralyzed for 5 months, then spent 18 months relearning to walk. I am still crippled and have limited mobility.

Below is one of the blog posts that originally appeared on EK's Star Log. The original articles are still online but no longer indexed in Google. Links to the original article, are included with this post, as is the original posting date. Clicking the links will take you to the original site, where you can see the old Space Dock 13 website still online. Space Dock 13 as it looked when hosted on WordPress from 2003 to 2013.


By EelKat Wendy C Allen

NaNoWriMo 2010 Day 3 –
Traveling Shovel of Death Arrives at The Twighlight Manor

NaNoWriMo 2010 Day 3 – The Traveling Shovel of Death Arrives at The Twighlight Manor

Posted on Wednesday, November 3, 2010 | Comments Off

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the Traveling Shovel of Death has arrived in my novel – IT – IS – EVIL – it splattered the head of a week old baby …it did not tell me it was going to do it either, it just showed up and did it without any warning – and than I went all a twitter and excitedly tweeted about the arrival of TSoD and what it had done (in 7 years this is the first time it has ever appeared in my novel – I’ve asked it to come every year and it never did before)

Within minutes after my TSoD tweets several followers unfollowed me! Did I ever mention how utterly disturbed people get after reading one of my Twighlight Manor stories?

LOL!

The Traveling Shovel of Death just cost me several Twitter followers!

ROTFLMAO! LOL!

If you can’t stomach my writing Bu-Bye!

you know…I have a feeling TSoD isn’t done killing yet either – the shovel may show up again before the month is through – and often – I’ve got a serial killer on the lose and he seems to like the serial killing shovel he has found –

and Roderic (my MC) seems to be walking around the Manor holding the bloody shovel – not quite sure why yet – I think TSoD may be possessed – maybe anyone who touches it is compelled to kill and no memory of doing so? Boy would that fit in with my haunted house theme I got going here

EDITED TO ADD:

some of my followers are requesting the excerpt of this scene so I’ll post it here: (keep in mind you are reading an unedited NaNoWriMo written first draft - it needs editing badly)


Doctor Vangonees was coming donw the hall, going from room to room checking that no one needed him tonight, before he left the Manor to return to his family. The had checked on every body in the East Wing and Main Building and had only Roderic in the West Wing to check on now. He took him nearly an hour to walk from one end of the Manor to the other, so this was no easy task, and on made longer by the need to stop at every bed room in each of the 4 floors. Though there were only a few residents living at the Manor, the sheer size of the buildig and the distance between each bed room, resulted in this event taken up nearly four hours of his night each and every night. He did not really need to check on every body every single night it was just in his nature to do so. Roderic was the only person here who was ever actually in need of his services, though it was Roderic whom he always checked on last. Dealing with Roderic was a bit of a pain at times. He pondered the fact that Roderic was alive. 



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Most children under the age of 12, if they had acted like Roderic, would have been slaughtered as a Faerie Changling. To see these bleerly eyed, dim witted, children reach adult hood was rare. Roderic’s life was only spared by the fact that he was the only child of Melaca’s dearly beloved alien wife, whom had died giving birth to her strange silent son. Dealing with a child like Roderic was difficult enough, dealing with him as an adult had become maddening as it took up nearly every minute of the doctor’s time to keep a handle on Roderic and his increaseing madness. The addition of a wife of his own, had made Roderic more on edge than was usual, but since the accident on the beach, Roderic had become more of a handful than Vangonees knew what to do with – what little mind he had, seemed to have left him all together. Doctor Vangonees thought on these things each time he make this long walk up stairs and down stair and passing through the long twisting hallways, each night.

Doctor Vangonees had not reached Roderic’s far away chambers, when he found Roderic wandering amlessly through the dark corridors.

“Roderic?” Gwauneesh called out to him, “Roderic, what are you doiing down here?”

Roderic did not hear him, or maybe he did hear him but wasn’t listening, no one was ever sure if Roderic had heard anything they said or not. It was not in his nature to either answer or respond, or in any other way acknoweldge that he had heard a thing you had said to him. As Gwaneesh moved closer he could see that Roderic was standing in the hallways, just standing, not doing anything, not looking at anything, doing absolutly nothing. Standing there staring blankly at the door in front of him, but not seeing a thing. Doctor Vangonees knew that to find Roderic wandering the halls at night was never a good thing. Roderic rarely left his bed chambers at all, and when he did, it meant he was having one of his hysteria episodes. Gwaneesh quickened his pace to reach the spot were Roderic stood.

“Roderic, are you al right?” he reached out and placed his hand on Roderic’s shoulder, his cloths were soaking wet. Roderic turned to face the doctor, his face was splattered red with blood, blood covered the front of his silk jerkin, ran down his left arm, to his hand, which Vangonees noticed for the first time was gripping tight to a shovel, like wise dripping with blood. Vangonees stepped back. The look in Roderic’s eyes was wild, but the expression on his face was vacant. “Roderic, what happened?”

Roderic said nothing.

Vangoneese grasped both Roderic’s shoulders and shook him. “Roderic! Look at me…what happened.”

“She’s sending monsters to eat me,” his voice was mono tone and dead, completly lacking in any emotion at all.

“Who? Roderic, who’s sending monsters?”

“She wants to eat me.”

“Who?”

“The Manor….she’s trying to kill me. She sent monsters to kill me.”

“What monsters, Roderic.”

“They’re dead.”

“Why are they dead? Roderic, what have you done?”

“I killed them. They can not hurt me now.”

“Where are the monsters, Roderic?”

“It bit me.” Roderic held out his right arm, where a small row of teeth marks could be seen. “I killed it. It won’t bite me again.”

Vangonees released his grip on Roderic and steped back. He stared at the teeth marks on Roderic’s arm. So small. Barely noticable. They had not broken the skin. The mark would be gone with in a few hours leaving not a trace that it had ever been. The realization of the horror of what Roderic was saying, flashed through the doctor’s mind.

“Roderic … no … what did you do? … where’s your wife, Roderic?”

Roderic said nothing and merely pointed towards the hall behind him. Doctor Vangonees rushed past Roderic to look for Melneeva, hoping to find anything other than what he thought he would find.

“We can not allow monsters to come into this house,” Roderic said.

Gwaneesh reach the royal bed chambers of the West Wing. The door was ajar, letting Melneeva’s screams penitrate through the dark corriadors, warning the doctor that his fears were true. He entered the room to find the young girl, crumpled onto the floor wringig her hands and screaming in wild hysteria.

“No,” was the only word to escape the doctor’s lips as his eys drifted from the screaming girl to the jellied mass of red pulp on the floor before her – all that remained of her baby.


Writing Horror


Need help with NaNoWriMo?
Check out these:
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Those super soft extra fluffy scarfs I wear to Write-InsWant to network with me?
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http://twitter.com/EelKat
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https://eelkat.wordpress.com
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/132659
http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/user/132659This blog is part of:The NaNoWriMo Blogchain!

Comments Offon NaNoWriMo 2010 Day 3 – The Traveling Shovel of Death Arrives at The Twighlight ManorPosted in babiesbanned booksbook exceptEelKatFriends Are ForeverNaNovel 2010NaNoWriMonational novel writing monthRodericThe Dare ThreadThe Twighlight ManorTraveling Shovel of DeathTSoDWendy C. Allenwriterwriting



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UPDATE: June 5, 2017
US Department of Justice, Civil Rights Division,
Joins FBI In Investigation of
Old Orchard Beach Town Hall and Police Department 
For Hate Crimes & Discrimination Done To
140+ Gypsies, Blacks, & LGBTQA+ Residents



Have Information?
Please Call FBI Agent Andy Drewer @ (207) 774-9322  

More info on what happened can be found HERE.



"People deserve a break. The stressed and unorganized person who doesn’t have the same priorities as you. They may be dealing with an autistic child, abusive spouse, fading parents, or cancer. Don’t judge people until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. Give them a break instead." 

— Guy Kawasaki


I'm a woman who has had 7 miscarriages, and wears "elaborate clothes". Because I have no children, the residents of Old Orchard Beach, beat me up, calling me a transsexual, claiming only a man would dress like I do, claiming that the reason I have no children is because I'm not really female.

They left me paralyzed and crippled. 

They crushed my hips, my pelvis, and my spine, and took away, what little chance I had to carry a pregnancy to full term.

I'm crippled for the rest of my life. I can barely walk now. It's why I'm now on a cane. Any hope I had of having children is gone now.

That's the reality, of the gay hatred of this town. 

I have Autism. I wear pink. I wear glitter. I talk with a "funny gay sounding voice".

According to the people in this town:

I walk like a fag...

talk like a fag...

dress like a fag...

act like a fag...

and therefor must be treated like a fag...

I need to be taught my place...

I deserve to be shot in the head...

I look gay, and therefore I must be, 

because no one but gay men, talk in this voice

no one but gay men wear pink

no one but gay men wear glitter

no one but gay men prance instead of walk...

so they beat me up, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they cut my car in half, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they put a bomb in my house, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they filled my motorhome with feces, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they kidnapped my cats, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they drove a back hoe over my house, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

they cut my cats heads off and nailed their heads to my door, because I'm "too gay" for Old Orchard Beach

because I have Autism

and that makes me "too gay for the family friend town of Old Orchard Beach"

I used to dance when I walked... but after 5 months paralyzed, 18 months relearning to walk, and now 4 years later, my leg is lame and I am crippled, barely able to stand, dragging a lame leg, I'll never dance again.

Do you know what that's like?

Can you even begin to imagine?

To be an Autistic person, who can no longer dance when I walk?

They hate gay men so much, that they are willing to beat up a childless autistic women, in ill health, accusing her of being a transvestite.

Because these evil people took away my ability to have children, I had cats; but they took my cats, and cut off their heads, and nailed them to my door.

Welcome to Old Orchard Beach. The gay-hating capital of Maine.

This is the reality of how Autistics are seen by the world.

This is the reality of how Autistics are treated by "normal" people.

This is the reality of being transgender in Old Orchard Beach.

This is the reality of what bullies do to someone with mental illnesses, they do not understand.

This is the reality of living with Autism.

Find out more here.


Do You Know The Identity
of the People Who Did These Things?
Have Information? 
Please Call FBI Agent
Andy Drewer @ (207) 774-9322  


“Don’t turn your face away. 

Once you’ve seen, you can no longer act like you don’t know.

Open your eyes to the truth. It’s all around you.

Don’t deny what the eyes to your soul have revealed to you.

Now that you know, you cannot feign ignorance.

Now that you’re aware of the problem, you cannot pretend you don’t care.

To be concerned is to be human.

To act is to care.” 

― Vashti Quiroz-Vega


“With ignorance comes fear- from fear comes bigotry. Education is the key to acceptance.” 

― Kathleen Patel, The Bullying Epidemic-the guide to arm you for the fight