Update: April 16, 2022

Tomorrow is Easter.

Easter, like Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Mother's day is one of the worst days of the year. A day that celebrates children and motherhood. On November 14, 2013, while I was 8 month pregnant, and putting bags on the back seat of my car, three still unidentified attackers, brought golf clubs down on my back, breaking my spine and murdering my baby. I am legally blind and almost deaf, so I neither heard nor saw them coming. I read lips, so you must be facing me for me to hear you. Bring legally blind, you also must be less than 3 feet in front of me for me to see your lips, to know you are talking. Because of this it was very easy for them to sneak up behind me while I leaned into my car, putting bags on the seat.

They broke 3 vertebrae in my spine, the shattered bones severing my spinal column, permanently damaging many nerves. Because of this nerve damage I have limited use of my left arm and hand, difficulty breathing, my bladder and intestines no longer function properly requiring adult diapers, massive tremors in both hands prevent me from being able to do basic things like brush my hair or hold a spoon to eat. These are just things from the nerve damage. 

Additionally they broke my pelvis, my hips, and my knees.

I was paralyzed for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk. Today I can walk on a very limited basis, aided by a cane, but every step is seeking pain, like lightning bolts going through my leg, across my pelvis and up my spine.

Because of this I was bedridden from 2013 to 2015. And all of that time I had no use of my hands, so I was not online either. And thus was unaware that during that time, a group of locals set to social media to build up massive slanderous rumors about me. They created a huge fairy tale meme of me being an Erotica author, a porn star, a transvestite, a male to female transgender, gay, and an alien abductee. I am none of those things but they spent 3 years, on hundreds of accounts on Facebook and Twitter, many of them fake "Eelkat" accounts where they were pretending to be me, building up this massive slanderous web of lies about me, and I had no idea they were doing it, until October 2021, 9 years after they started doing it.

April 10, 2015 a group of 74 locals, many of them wearing ku klux klan white hooded robes, arrived at my farm. 14 of them held me, Ben, my mother, and one of my 3 younger brothers down on the ice and snow while holding guns to our heads, while the others used cinder block bricks and a metal pole device with wire loops on the end, to beat and behead, 10 of my 12 foster children, then nail their heads to my door. The youngest was 4 years old. The oldest was 16 years old. They chanted "too gay for the family friendly town of old Orchard Beach" while accusing me, my pink Volvo, my pink motor home, and Ben of being gay, transgender, transvestite, and citing that guys were not allowed in Maine.

THIS is what gay haters in Maine do to people they THINK, might maybe, be gay, even though they are not.

No man, woman or child is safe in Maine, so long as these murders walk free. They will kill anything they determine to be gay, even if it is not, as can be seen my the murder of my children.

They also had hundreds of paperback copies of my books, burning them in a huge bonfire on my lawn while calling them gay Erotica and calling mean Erotica author and porn star. (I'm an author, I write a travel blog style series about a homeless man who backpacks his way across Maine, there is no sex in the series. I'm a Mormon, I've never written a sex scene.)

My family was murdered and I am crippled for the rest of my life, because of this group who has been slandering me on social media. But, at the time of these two attacks (November 14, 2013 and April 10,2015) me and my family were unaware of these slanderous rumors the locals of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine were spreading not only on Facebook and Twitter, but by word of mouth around town as well.

May 2021, I started walking around town again, for the first time since being paralyzed 9 years ago on November 14, 2013, and it quickly became apparent something was seriously wrong with the locals.

I was unable to walk my dog on Main Street, Bradbury Street, Harvey Street, or Cutts Street Biddeford, where I have lived since becoming paralyzed, but not before gone outside, because of being paralyzed and bedridden and unable to walk until now…

I was unable to walk my dog on Main Street, Bradbury Street, Harvey Street, or Cutts Street Biddeford without being attacked, pushed off the sidewalk by random strangers running up to me and grabbing my cane and using it to push me in the road in front of cars while accusing me of being gay, transgender, or transvestite. Screaming "transvestite freak" while throwing rocks at me. Group of women joggers stopping to surround me and harass me while saying guys aren't allowed on their street. 

October 2021, my Volvo returned to my driveway after 3 years of being completely rebuilt, after the February 2019 attack on it with baseball bats completely destroyed it. Within 5 minutes of starting to repaint it, 2 men showed up in my driveway yelling about aliens and demons and Etoile and because of this I stopped painting fish on the door, painted over the fish and painted a portrait of Etiole instead. 

November 19, 2021 the red haired American woman from the 2016 High Street attack on my navy blue pick up truck, showed up on the porch here on Main Street. 

The location is 409 Main Street, the big white farmhouse Victorian on the 3way corner of Harvey Lane and Cutts street, right at the train tracks. It has 2 driveways one on Main Street and one on Harvey. There are multiple porches. It's the porch on the Main street side, that goes up the driveway alongside the abortive cedar tree hedge, where I park my painted Volvo. That porch is the one this woman shows up on. 

It's an elderly couple and mother in law who live there at that porch.  When they leave for work, this woman shows up when they are not home and stands on the porch bellowing like a fog horn screaming death threats at me, yelling crazy demon and alien slander about Etiole, making the claim of putting a bomb in the tail pipe of my car, screaming about suicide demons and evil eye curses, and yelling about someone named Todd Murphy (I don't know who that is, I get the impression he's a relative or boyfriend or ex of hers or something, but I don't any one by that name, so I don't know who he is. I don't know who she is either.) She looks to be maybe 30s to 40s aged. 

She was here again yesterday. She was bragging that she got a fight started with my mother and the Atwaters on Facebook, laughing about how easy it is to get my mother and her ex fighting and the old woman was giving her hell and telling her to get off the Atwaters Facebook and leave them alone. 

This happened less then an hour after my mother made the claim that a woman of the same short haired blond description, assaulted her and my father at an ATM machine, the blond woman claiming to my mother to be my father's girlfriend, my father claiming he never saw her before. 

All this happened on April 10, 2022, the 7 year anniversary of the murder of my foster children, and the blond woman who was here in my driveway after the ATM attack was bragging the anniversary is why she is instigating the fighting between my parents. 

I did not see the ATM attack, so, I do not know what happened other then what my mother and father are saying. 

I did however see her here in my driveway.

She does not live here. She's shows up in a silver pick-up truck driven by a small skinny blonde man. No one here at this building knows who she is.

There is another blonde woman, older sometimes with her. I do recognize the older woman. She's one of the November 14, 2013 golf club attackers. The one the others who were with her called "Claire". She looks to be in her 60s. Usually wears a blue denim button down man's worksheet as a coat. She sometimes drives a gold Volvo suv around 2004vintage, sometimes a silver Subaru suv, sometimes a mega sized white Nissan 4 door white pick-up truck, and sometimes a pine dark green pick up truck. She frequently has another older woman with her, who calls herself "Kendra" and has very, very long natural red curly hair, sometimes she wears big Janis Joplin glasses and sometimes cyberpunk cyclops lime green glasses, she frequently carries a small white poodle dog. The dog is often wearing either a purple dragon or a black skeleton costume. These 2 older women and a younger bald man are the 2013 golf club attackers who murdered my baby. This new younger blond woman and the 5 who are often with her, appear to be their relatives. The FBI believes they are part of a drug gang from Connecticut that call themselves "The Cyr Clan". According to the FBI the Cyr Clan was a gang that my uncle Bruce was involved with back in the 1960s in Boston before I was born. The FBI believes Bruce pissed them off in the early 2000s and that's what brought them up here to Maine.

The FBI believes they were after either one of Bruce's daughters or one of Bruce's sisters with both the November 2013 and April 2015 attacks.

One of Bruce's daughters also lives on Portland Ave in Old Orchard Beach and she also has a pink motor home. So there are TWO pink motor homes on the same street. This particular daughter of Bruce IS in fact a porn star. She's a pole dancer for a top less bar.

In 2016, there was another large scale attack, near duplicate to the April 10, 2015 attack. I never talk about it because it didn't happen to me. It happened to Bruce's daughter across the street from me. The attack on her family was bigger, bolder, and bloodier, than the attack on my family the previous year.

In 2017, a third similar attack happened in Biddeford to one of Bruce's sisters. Again I don't talk about it because it didn't happen to me.

Like I've said before there is A LOT MORE going on, then what you hear me talking about. I don't talk about what has happened to several of my cousins and their families both the Atwater cousins and the Murphey cousins- because it is not my place to do so. That's why you ONLY hear me talking about what directly happened to me personally and never mentioning the rest.

And I've not said everything that happened to me. A lot more has happened to me then you hear about because the FBI has specifically requested I don't talk about specific aspects of what happened to me and my children, because a lot was never released to the public, because they want to see who knows what. Certain things no one in the public should know about and knowing those things marks you as involved. This new young blonde woman KNOWS several of those things that were not released to the public and yells those things. Which means she is VERY INVOLVED with the murder of my children. 

Like I said until summer and fall of 2021 when started walking again for the first time in 9 years, I was unaware of the local gossip that was falsely accusing me of being gay, falsely accusing me of being transgender, falsely accusing me of being transvestite, falsely accusing me of being a porn star, falsely accusing me of being an Erotica author, or falsely accusing me of being an alien abduttee. 

I have lived here since 1975. You people know me. You people knew my murdered children. You people know I'm a cis female. You people know I'm not gay. I have published 138 novels and more then 2,000 short stories since 1978, and I  have sold 27k copies of every one of them to you people who come to my house and buy them in person, so you've read my books and know they are not Erotica. You people know I've been a devoted orthodox LDS Mormon my whole life, and that I've been with Ben for 37 years, so you know I'm not a porn star. 

What is wrong with you people? My family was murdered and I have spent 9 years recovering from medical hell, and I go outside for the first time in 9 years and find you people who know me have all devolved into gay hating, sex spewing, gibberish slandering gossips spreading vile, evil, malicious rumors and lies that you yourselves know to be untrue?

No wonder not a single one of you have helped my family through any of this. No wonder not a one of you ever once visited me at the hospital or my home after I got out of the hospital and couldn't go outside because I couldn't walk. 

You don't see me for 9 years because I'm bedridden and you're all to cold hearted to stop by and check in on me, and you spend that 9 years spinning wild, crazy transphobic, gay hating, sex filled lies about me?

What is wrong with you people?

You all let some stranger, who very likely IS the murderer, convince you of crazy ass slandering lies, that you people know to be untrue. 

You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. 

Every resident of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine,  you all ought to be ashamed of what you have spent the last 9 years doing.

This new younger blonde woman, she's the one who keeps saying my car has a suicide demon in it and yelling about Todd, saying my car caused him to die.

I don't know who she is, but she's the same one who used to show up at 27 High st, also Biddeford and scream "nasty bitch" at me and acuse me of being an Erotica author and porn star. (Which she did during several Witcher 3 livestreams on Twitch, you can see her doing it if you go back and watch my VOD). I am neither an Erotica author or a Porn star, and she had throughout 2016 to 2019 arrived at High st with 5 others, one a blond man with a silver pick-up truck, one a black man with a yellow Mitsubishi with new York plates, one a very obese woman with blond Shirley Temple sausage curls, and the other two hooded men with a navy blue Buick sedan. If you remember the Christmas Eve 2016 livestream when the gang attacked my high st apartment and screaming "transvestite freak" that's them. This that same woman who also slanders me by calling me transvestite and transgender, which I am neither. I am a cis female, I've had 7 miscarriages, and the 1 baby that made it full term was murdered November 14, 2013 by 3 people with golf clubs, who are suspected to be, these same people. 

One day when I went downstairs to get the mail on high st, a mailbox that was in the lobby and you had to go through 2 sets of doors and foyers to get to, she had her hand in the mailbox and when I came out the door she yelled "I wasn't stealing your mail" threw our mail on the ground and ran off.

She knows the Martals, (Aunt Barbara ex, uncle Paul Martal,  the one in prison for building the Boston Marathon bomb in 2013, Mike's father, those Martals) she was staying with them for a few months in 2016. Is somehow connected to Barbara (the one who wrote all those emails in 1997 pretending to be me, when I did not yet have email or internet or a computer at the time, and I had not yet heard of email and didn't even know what email was, back when Barbara wrote all those alien abduction emails about Etiole and pretending I wrote them.)

She has short straight blond hair and sometimes dyes it dark red or purple. I know she follows both me and my mom and most of the Atwaters and my 3 younger brothers (though not my 2 older brothers as the oldest is in prison and the 2nd oldest is dead) on Facebook because she keeps saying that "I read on Facebook…" when she's in my driveway.

She shows up at Walmart to yell at me sometimes, and sometimes shows up while I'm walking Mickey. She talks about Etiole and White Monkey a lot when yelling, which is strange because that's stuff Brucie and Daddy used to write in their letters to Bishop Morgan back in Cape Elizabeth in 1990s. 

I'm not the one who calls him Etiole that's always been Bruce and Barbara who did that. I know his real name and use his real name.. They don't know his real name. And my father is only one who uses the term White Monkey. The white monkey was Helen Pearlys pet back in 1970s, it had nothing to do with Etoile, I don't know why he keeps saying it does.. My father is the only one who ever makes that connection. I've never called Etiole a demon or alien, again that has always been my father, Barbara and Brucie who said the alien and demon stuff. I don't believe in aliens or demons, but they do. (Etiole if you don't know is a local elderly homeless man who has backpacked around New England since 1953, and since 1978 I let him camp on my farm in Old Orchard Beach when he's in the area. He's covered with scars from WW2 and they call him an alien and demon because of his scars. They refuse to believe he is a human, which just goes to show how absolutely stupid they are.)

In November an elderly man came over and started asking me why I was emailing him about Etiole and I'm not, I don't use email. He said he was getting over 300 emails a day about Etiole all claiming to be from me. He said there are hundreds of email addresses getting copies of this email. You remember when Barbara and Brucie used to send emails back in 1997 claiming they were from me but we didn't have computer or internet back then? I think it might be Barbara sending those emails again like she did back then. I can't think of who else could be doing it.

This sometimes blond, sometimes red hair, sometimes purple hair woman, also mentions these emails when she is in my driveway yelling at my Volvo at 409 Main street. 

FBI agent Andy Drewer has found and shut down, so far 27 Facebook accounts, all pretending to be me. He said all of them were owed by Brucie. These fake "Eelkat" accounts appear to be the source of a lot of what this blond woman says and is suspected that she may be one of the people behind writing them.

Keep in mind, Brucie is dead. He may have started those Facebook accounts, but he ain't the one writing them. He died 3years ago.

Mervin Bruce Atwater died from Covid19 on November 24, 2019.

The fact remains you ARE impeding an FBI investigation into the murder of my family, and only someone involved would have any reason to do that. ONLY someone connected to the murderer would have a motive to try to stop the FBIs investigation. That makes you an accessory to murder. You make yourself look VERY GUILTY of being involved every time you spread slanders about me, my car, or Etiole. 

Do consider that the source of your slander in all likelihood is the murderer, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street, the name of the person who is telling you to slander me.

And now tomorrow is Easter. 

A day when mothers take their children on Easter egg hunts.

My children are dead.

My children were murdered. 

And you people have spent the last 9 years making fun of that.

Think about THAT tomorrow when you are out on Easter egg hunts with your babies.

Think about how YOU would feel if it was YOU. How would YOU feel if it had been your baby who was murdered and this entire town was spreading bullying slanderous lies about YOU.

If you know who this blond woman is, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street. She is wanted for questioning about her connection to the November 14, 2013 murder of my baby and attempted murder of me, and the April 10, 2015 murder of my foster children and the September 26, 2016 hit and run attack on my car and the February 2019 vandalism to 27 High st apartment building, and the November 2021 attack on my Volvo and the March 10, 2022 attack on my Volvo and the April 10, 2022 ATM attack on my parents. 



Update April 11, 2022: Do you know who this woman is?

This woman that my mother is talking about, have any of you ever seen her? Does anyone know who she is?

It isn't that woman who keeps coming on the porch and yelling at my car is it? Do any of you know who the woman attacking my car is?

The location is 409 Main Street, the big white farmhouse Victorian on the 3way corner of Harvey Lane and Cutts street, right at the train tracks. It has 2 driveways one on Main Street and one on Harvey. There are multiple porches. It's the porch on the Main street side, that goes up the driveway alongside the abortive cedar tree hedge, where I park my painted Volvo. That porch is the one this woman shows up on. 

It's an elderly couple and mother in law who live there at that porch.  When they leave for work, this woman shows up when they are not home and stands on the porch bellowing like a fog horn screaming death threats at me, yelling crazy demon and alien slander about Etiole, making the claim of putting a bomb in the tail pipe of my car, screaming about suicide demons and evil eye curses, and yelling about someone named Todd Murphy (I don't know who that is, I get the impression he's a relative or boyfriend or ex of hers or something, but I don't any one by that name, so I don't know who he is. I don't know who she is either.) She looks to be maybe 30s to 40s aged. 

She was here again yesterday. She was bragging that she got a fight started with my mother and the Atwaters on Facebook, laughing about how easy it is to get my mother and her ex fighting and the old woman was giving her hell and telling her to get off the Atwaters Facebook and leave them alone. 

This happened less then an hour after my mother made the claim that a woman of the same short haired blond description, assaulted her and my father at an ATM machine, the blond woman claiming to my mother to be my father's girlfriend, my father claiming he never saw her before. 

All this happened on April 10, 2022, the 7 year anniversary of the murder of my foster children, and the blond woman who was here in my driveway after the ATM attack was bragging the anniversary is why she is instigating the fighting between my parents. 

I did not see the ATM attack, so, I do not know what happened other then what my mother and father are saying. 

I did however see her here in my driveway.

She's the one who keeps saying my car has a suicide demon in it and yelling about Todd, saying my car caused him to die.

I don't know who she is, but she's the same one who used to show up at 27 High st, also Biddeford and scream "nasty bitch" at me and accuses me of being an Erotica author and porn star. (Which she did during several Witcher 3 livestreams on Twitch, you can see her doing it if you go back and watch my VOD). I am neither an Erotica author or a Porn star, and she had throughout 2016 to 2019 arrived at High st with 5 others, one a blond man with a silver pick-up truck, one a black man with a yellow Mitsubishi with new York plates, one a very obese woman with blond Shirley Temple sausage curls, and the other two hooded men with a navy blue Buick sedan. If you remember the Christmas Eve 2016 livestream when the gang attacked my high st apartment and screaming "transvestite freak" that's them. This that same woman who also slanders me by calling me transvestite and transgender, which I am neither. I am a cis female, I've had 7 miscarriages, and the 1 baby that made it full term was murdered November 14, 2013 by 3 people with golf clubs, who are suspected to be, these same people. 

One day when I went downstairs to get the mail on high st, a mailbox that was in the lobby and you had to go through 2 sets of doors and foyers to get to, she had her hand in the mailbox and when I came out the door she yelled "I wasn't stealing your mail" threw our mail on the ground and ran off.

She knows the Martals, (Barbara ex, uncle Paul Martal,  the one in prison for building the Boston Marathon bomb in 2013, Mike's father, those Martals) she was staying with them for a few months in 2016. Is somehow connected to Barbara (the one who wrote all those emails in 1997 pretending to be me, when I did not yet have email or internet or a computer at the time, and I had not yet heard of email and didn't even know what email was, back when Barbara wrote all those alien abduction emails about Etiole and pretending I wrote them.)

She has short straight blond hair and sometimes dyes it dark red or purple. I know she follows both me and my mom and most of the Atwaters and my 3 younger brothers (though not my 2 older brothers as the oldest is in prison and the 2nd oldest is dead) on Facebook because she keeps saying that "I read on Facebook…" when she's in my driveway.

She shows up at Walmart to yell at me sometimes, and sometimes shows up while I'm walking Mickey. She talks about Etiole and White Monkey a lot when yelling, which is strange because that's stuff Brucie and Daddy used to write in their letters to Bishop Morgan back in Cape Elizabeth in 1990s. 

I'm not the one who calls him Etiole that's always been Bruce and Barbara who did that. I know his real name and use his real name.. They don't know his real name. And my father is only one who uses the term White Monkey. The white monkey was Helen Pearlys pet back in 1970s, it had nothing to do with Etoile, I don't know why he keeps saying it does.. My father is the only one who ever makes that connection. I've never called Etiole a demon or alien, again that has always been my father, Barbara and Brucie who said the alien and demon stuff. I don't believe in aliens or demons, but they do.

(Etiole if you don't know is a local elderly homeless man who has backpacked around New England since 1953, and since 1978 I let him camp on my farm in Old Orchard Beach when he's in the area. He's covered with scars from WW2 and they call him an alien and demon because of his scars. They refuse to believe he is a human, which just goes to show how absolutely stupid they are.)

In November an elderly man came over and started asking me why I was emailing him about Etiole and I'm not, I don't use email. He said he was getting over 300 emails a day about Etiole all claiming to be from me. He said there are hundreds of email addresses getting copies of this email. You remember when Barbara and Brucie used to send emails back in 1997 claiming they were from me but we didn't have computer or internet back then? I think it might be Barbara sending those emails again like she did back then. I can't think of who else could be doing it.

This sometimes blond, sometimes red hair, sometimes purple hair woman, also mentions these emails when she is in my driveway yelling at my Volvo at 409 Main street. 

FBI agent Andy Drewer has found and shut down, so far 27 Facebook accounts, all pretending to be me. He said all of them were owed by Brucie. These fake "Eelkat" accounts appear to be the source of a lot of what this blond woman says and is suspected that she may be one of the people behind writing them.

Due to the incident yesterday it is now also believed that she is the mystery blond woman who pretends to be my father's girlfriend and harassed my mother for no reason other then to get a laugh on watching my mother fight with my father (something they do quite violently in public places, in stores, just everywhere.)

If you know who this blond woman is, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street. She is wanted for questioning about her connection to the November 14, 2013 murder of my baby and attempted murder of me, and the April 10, 2015 murder of my foster children and the September 26, 2016 hit and run attack on my car and the February 2019 vandalism to 27 High st apartment building, and the November 2021 attack on my Volvo and the March 10, 2022 attack on my Volvo and the April 10, 2022 ATM attack on my parents. 



Update: April 10, 2022, big violent attack, as police and FBI expected.

Today is the 7th anniversary of the murder of my family. Remember I said to watch who does what today?... My father just beat the hell out of my mother, tried to kill her. She is right now refusing to call the police. My mother claims she caught my father with a girlfriend he's had for several years now. But near as I can tell, all he did was stop to tell some random stranger how to use the ATM machine. Note, they got divorced in 1994, my mother left my father for another man, left the other man for another man after that, and left the next man for Wayne. She's been with 2 other men (possibly more) since Wayne. She has not been a part of my father's life for 30 years, but feels the need to control his life and harass him on extreme violent levels. If he does have a girlfriend, so what? She left him 30 years ago.

Wayne died during the cat court case, the 2nd one, when he sued my mother for stealing his cats and putting them in my motorhome. Wayne's father, 8 of his cats, and then Wayne himself each died a few weeks apart all from rat poison. Wayne's daughter sued my mother claiming my mother put rat poison in their food.

The fbi believes my mother did kill Wayne and his cats and believes that's why she put his cats in my motorhome. Fbi believes my mother was one who called police April 10, 2015, expecting them to arrest me, take the motorhome, and return the cats to her. She did not expect police to take cats. All the harassment and vandalism of my mom's cars is believed by fbi to be Wayne's daughter friends and relatives and family.

My family, my children were murdered in 2 attacks, one on November 14, 2013 and one on April 10, 2015, both attacks are believed by the FBI to have been attacks that were intended on my mother and the people hired mixed me and her up.

April 10, is my mother's father's birthday by the way, David Henry Atwater, it's WHY she does everything she does, all her wild crazy vandalisms to people on April 10 every year since the 1950s.


April 6, 2022 update, as the attacks on my family and property continue and now more people are in the hospital

Daddy has sepsis and they keeping him in hospital for a few days.

Sepsis is very bad.

That's what I had.

You can die a few hours after it sets in if not treated.

When I was in the hospital in 2014.

That's why I was in the hospital.

I had surgery for it in march 2015.

That was the surgery on my arm.

Sepsis was in a major artery in left arm to heart. 

Side effect from when I was in hospital November 2013 when I was in wheelchair and February 2014 when I was on crutches relearning how to walk. Doctors was focused on my hip and not my spine. They didn't find the source of infection until until the mri in June 2016. 

Sepsis is why I can't walk without cane and why my lungs are messed up and why I have tremors and can't use my hands good anymore. Sepsis infection was so back it damaged my nerves. I was scheduled for spinal column surgery September 2016, they sent me to a neurosurgeon who was supposed to be top brain surgeon in New England and he did more mri and then canceled surgery because damage to my vertebrae (from golf club attack November 2013, which is what caused all of this, including the Sepsis and is the attack that brought the fbi here they think Mark wife did it but college had no security cameras at the bug light parking lot, they investigating Mark family, Barbara family,  and Brucie family. Charges of murdering my baby and attempted murder of me) is so bad. Shattered vertebrae bone fragments are severed into my spinal column nerve bundle at the sacroiliac joint where the hip and pelvis connect to spine. Neurosurgeon said he can't operate because of how nerve damage is, said if he removed bone fragments I would be paralyzed from neck down. But that is also when the source of Sepsis infection was found to be in my spine and not my hip, and that is when it finally went away because they were able to target the correct place to fix the infection.

Mark’s wife is the #1 suspect the FBI is watching, because, according to the FBI, this mysterious Mark guy, whom I have never met, never heard of prior to this, have never talked to, and have never seen, so I have no clue who he or his wife are… according to the FBI, he is friends with my mother, but only via her FaceBook account, where she hired him to put in a septic system, then gave him MY address in Old Orchard, while making the claim that SHE owned both MY land and MY motorhome, and when he asked for a picture of her so he would know who she was, she gave him a picture of ME, not herself.

According to FBI agent Andy Drewer THIS is the reason why the backhoe was driven over my house August 8, 2013 and why the golf club attackers attacked me on November 14, 2013.

According to the FBI, my mother was trying to get my land so she could sell it to use the money for a down payment on a house in Kennebunk and she used this Mark guy as her pawn to do it, by fighting with him on social media using “fake EelKat” accounts to convince him that he was dealing with me, even though I had never heard of him before.

According to the FBI, my mother started sending his family death threats, in the same way she is currently sending Todd Murphey’s family death threats, and that this is why Mark’s wife attacked with the golf clubs, murdering my baby and crippling my spine. According to the FBI, Mark’s wife thought she was attacking my mother and was unaware that both my mother, her sister Barbara, and her brother Bruce’s wife Doris were all impersonating me, using 27 different “fake EelKat” FaceBook accounts to scam Mark’s family about a septic system.

This was confirmed by the Old Orchard Beach police in October 2016, when Mark attacked my mother in person and was arrested by OOB police, that day. He made the claim, that she, my mother, was me, but the officers in question, Robin and Will, both know me and my mother and informed Mark that this was not me that he was fighting with, it was my mother, to which he said this was the woman he had been dealing with since June 2001 who had called herself EelKat in every correspondence. The police showed Mark pictures of me and he said he had never seen me before and had no clue who I was.

This event October 2016, is when both the police and FBI started expanding their investigation, now looking for people who were friends of my mother, her sister Barbara, and her brother Bruce, and that is when they found the identity of long time stalker and bomb builder Kendra Silvermander who turned out to be a FaceBook friend of all 3 of them.

After Mark’s gang found out October 2016 that I was NOT the person they had been fighting with online, but rather it had been my mother impersonating me, the attacks on my family stopped but the attacks on my mother’s family started February 2017 when a road grader drove 75 feet up her driveway and flattened her car. Since then this event was repeated with 3 more cars.

In August 2021, My mother and her sister began impersonating me on FaceBook and with emails, yet again, and as they had done in the past, used my friend Etiole to do it. Once again, calling him a demon and an alien and a cryptid, and once again pretending to be me, they wrote a lot of emails and started mass spam sending them to every Maine email address they could find, at a rate of sending them to several thousand people a day.

I found out about this in November 2021, after Etiole was shot, gunned down by 6 people at Rotary Park in Biddeford, Maine on November 21, 2021, by people who claimed to be from Scarborough, Maine and claimed to be the mother and in laws of some guy named Todd Murphey.

I still have no clue who Todd Murphey is, but apparently he used to work with my mother and commit suicide recently and my mother and her sister took advantage of his suicide to yet again pretend to be me, and this time, calling Etiole a suicide demon, started harassing this Todd guy’s ex wife, son, and mother on FaceBook and via emails while pretending to be me. Which caused these people to show up at my 409 Main Street/Harvey/Cutts street Biddeford apartment to vandalize my car and cut all the wires off the apartment building, not once, but twice: on Thanksgiving day 2021 and again on March 10, 2022, because these friends and family of this Todd guy are 100% convinced the nut they are dealing with on FaceBook is me, when in fact, the one they are dealing with is no me, but rather my mother yet again pretending to be me.

This is also what led to the December 2021 and January 2022 FBI raids in the Cutts Street are of Biddeford, just a few weeks ago, which led to the arrests of 8 people.

Back to sepsis…

On December 24, 2021, my mother arrived here at 409 Main street and stole my father’s 14 medications that he takes for his triple by pass, his kidney dialysis, his diabetes… and then, she took him in her car, drove to his doctor, and told his doctor, he’s not allowed to have medicine, because he has to do what she says.

He has not taken his medicine since December 24, 2021, it is today April 6, 2022, and he is struggling to stay alive.

All of this is because she is hell bent on a house in Kennebunk and doesn’t give a shit that she has caused my baby to be murdered November 14, 2013, my foster children to be murdered April 10, 2015, me to be going through a decade long medical nightmare after being crippled November 14, 2013, 5 of my cars to be destroyed including The real Cristine The World’s Most Haunted Car that Stephen King based his Cristine off of, my house -the one that was in the Thinner movie- to be driven over by a back hoe, and now my father dying in the hospital.

Death and destruction at every turn, and she doesn’t give a shit because, as she puts it: “What are we going to do about Wendy? She can’t keep that land, I need a house in Kennebunk!”

Her obsession with getting a house is utter ludicrous insanity, that needs to be stopped before anyone else dies at the hands of her fucking retarded FaceBook friends who blinding attack, vandalize, and beat up anyone and everyone on her command.

I am so fed up with her blind devotion to a fairy tale house she thinks she has to have, at the expense of the lives of everyone around her.



March 30, 2022, update on yet another attack on my family and land

Police take notice. 


Scam artists have been bringing real estate agents onto my property in attempt to illegally sell my land. They have no right or permission to be here. My land is NOT for sale. If you see them doing it, please arrest them.

These are the Scottish Travellers. They arrive here every summer, harassing my family for four decades now. They are the same ones who drove a backhoe over my house August 8, 2013. The same ones who crippled me and murdered my baby November 14, 2013 with golf clubs, leaveing me paralized with a broken spine ever since. I am cripled with a shattered spinal column since the golf club attack and am bedridden weeks to a time unable to sit up or get out of bed. I have rebuilt my house 5 times in the past 9 years, and their attempts to steal my land and sell it have been barbaric and violent, and icluded a bomb that blew up my house October 18, 2006, and most of my family is now dead, murdered at their hands. These are the same people who cut my 1964 Dodge 330 in half May 10, 2010. They arrived back here September 19, 2020 and illegally cut down most of the trees across my lawn, and arrived again November 19, 2021 and for the last 20 years they arrive every summer with a green dump truck and dump garbage on my lawn. In 2014 they left a pile of garbage 175 feet long, 30 feet wide and 12 feet tall and it cost me $12,000 to have it removed. I am crippled and elderly and there is no one to help me against their harassment.

There should NEVER be anyone other than me EelKat Wendy C Allen (with the painted Volvo) or my partner Benjamin Wildes (with the blue Honda) in my yard at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, where the ink motorhome is parked. If you see ANYONE ELSE or any other car in my yard, please call the police immediately. There is no one else who has permission to be on my land.

My land is NOT for sale, if you see real estate agents, please inform them they are being scammed and the people trying to sell my land are NOT the legal land owners.

The FBI are on the look out for them as are the local police. If you see them in my yard, please notify both the Old Orchard Beach Police Department at 207-934-4911 and FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street.





March 10, 2022 update on the most recent vandalism of my car

This is a copy of the letter that has been forwarded to the police departments involved. For this online edition some parts have been removed (so if you get to a place that seems like the topic changed abruptly, that is why) and the names are removed from the online version, but the version the police have, includes all the full names and contact info of all the people in question. And for those who have asked: yes, the police and FBI have talked to Etiole, they are fully aware of him, his health, his homelessness, etc.

Dear Sirs,

I feel I need to tell you what has been happening as it has gotten very much out of control the past few weeks. It's been slowly escalating for a few years and, if you look at my police record for both Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, you will see dozens of reports for vandalism of my 1992 Volvo 240 (the painted one) at now 3 apartments in Biddeford, and vandalism of my land in Old Orchard Beach. In the past 6 months, a hyper escalation started with has become very out of control the past couple of weeks.

Last night, my car was vandalized again.  

As these events are taking place in both Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, I'm giving this same letter to both departments, so events from both towns are listed.

I am Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine and 409 Main Street apartment 101 Biddeford, Maine.

There appears to be someone fairly local impersonating me online, and is raising hell with a lot of local people, inciting them to do very violent physical attacks on me, my Biddeford apartment, my Old Orchard land, and my car.

It's reached the point where I can not go to the store without having my car towed home, because it gets vandalized so bad while I'm n the store shopping. EVERY TIME I go to the store. I've been at a loss to understand why this is happening. I don't know who these people are or why they are attacking. On Thanksgiving day they cut all the wires off the Biddeford apartment building so we had no internet or heat or anything for a while. There is a "redhaired" woman who shows up on the front porch to cream at my car, every time the family who lives in that apartment goes to work. She stopped a few weeks ago, because the man who lives there fell on the ice, broke his shoulder and has not gone to work since. It appears she knows that family who lives there and does not want them knowing she does this while they are not home.

A few weeks ago an old man walked up to me, asked if I was EelKat and then asked me why I kept emailing him, and I said I don't email anyone cause I don't use email. He said some days he gets over 300 emails a day from someone claiming to be EelKat.

 

We are Gypsies, and though I've lived in America my whole life, I know very little of American habits and laws or what specifically to do in this situation. We are the Gypsies who were in Stephen King's Thinner movie and my 146 Portland Ave land was one of the filming locations of the movie and, the cars in the opening scenes were our cars, one of which I still have. I mention this, because, there are two Gypsy clans, The Atwaters (Scottish Travellers) and the Cyrs (Irish Travellers) fighting over my land and the fight centres largely around the fact that it was the filming location of Stephen King's the Thinner movie.

I own the land. From the 1940s it was owned by my grandmother Helen Ricker Allen. She left it to me in her will in 1983. Unknown to me, at some point after 1983, the Atwaters had the land illegally transferred into their names -they steal land this way as a full time career and many of them have illegally deed swapped land in all 50 states in America.

In 2014, I found out they are done an illegal deed swap, when an auction group showed up on my land to sell it. Upon discovery I had been living on the land since 1975 and paying taxes on it since 1983, but my name was not on the deed, the auctioneer (and member of the OOB town hall) cancelled the auction and ordered a town hall meeting to review the situation. Upon investigation it was discovered that when the land went from my grandmother to me, my father signed as "joint witness" and then a year later, went back to the town hall to have my name removed from the deed and his put on it, even though he had no legal write to do so. After that, the record shows that every 3 to 5 years, he and my mother swapped names on the deed, sometimes his name, sometimes her name. The land changed ownership names more then 30 times between 1983 and 2013. 

Because I have severe agoraphobia, I had not set foot off of my land since the 1970s. When it came time to pay the taxes, I gave my father the money and he delivered it to the town hall, or so I thought. In 2014, I learned that in spite of my paying my taxes like clockwork, since 2006, the town hall had no record of receiving any money. It is unclear where the money went. On one hand it looks like my father spent the money and never paid the taxes. On the other hand it looks like he sometimes did pay the taxes but instead of going to the tax office he gave the money to Kathy BR in the permits office and she gave the money to a guy called JB who went to prison for embezzling $3million in OOB tax money from the town hall. JB did not work for the town hall, he was a software designers who built the online banking security for the town hall to direct deposit money to the bank, and according to the FBI the money was going to his bank account not the town hall bank account, but he was only found with $30k not $3million. I don't know the full details, I only know this part, because when we tried to find out why my land was being auctioned this is the info we were given.

In any case, at some point my dad stole my land via just walking into the town hall and asking the desk clerk to remove my name from the deed and put his name on it instead. The whole thing was done illegally and without my knowledge or permission.

There were 3 lands originally. 144, 146, and 146a. My father stole all 3 of them. 144 was auctioned off to the Collard family in 2007, even though I was still living there until 2015 without any knowledge of the auction happening. No one informed me. I've since spoken with the Collards and they were unaware of the situation. They actually bought the land legally even though it was stolen land they had bought, they were unaware the land had been stolen. Everything has been straightened out between me and the Collards, they are not part of the current problem.

My mother owns 146a, but she owns it illegally. She claims it's rightfully hers because my father gave it to her, but, he stole it from me via illegally rewriting the deed, so he had no right to give it to her.

In 2014 and 2015, all the court and legal work was done to restore 146 back to me.

The current situation is my parents are in an active attempt to remove my name off the deed again, like they had done back in 1983.

On a daily basis my mother shows up and first words out of her mouth every day is: "What are we going to do about Wendy? She can't keep that land. I need a house in Kennebunk." to my father.  She started doing this in August, originally bragging that she was going to take my land out of retaliation for my refusal to cast death curses on Chris at work. I don't know who "Chris at work" is. It was one of the names on her list of people she wants me to kill via death spell curses. I was live streaming on Twitch the day she came in yelling about "Chris at work" and my need to kill him for her, so a lot of people online heard her saying these things. I'm a YouTube gamer, I have a livestream going almost daily for 12+ hours a day, so when she comes in, #1 it's breaking and entering because I didn't let her in, and #2 she is interrupting my live streams quite regular so I have hundreds of video footage clips of her saying these things and making these threats. The day she and my father cut the cable/internet wires off my apartment building - I have that on livestream footage as well. My father cut the wires off the house while my mother was ordering him to do it. In November 2021 and again 2 days ago March 9, 2022.

They both make the claim I don't need internet, because I am as they put it "being a bad daughter" because I "won't sell your land and give me the money for a down payment, I need a down payment, you are supposed to give me the down payment money for a house, I'm your mother!"'

As for what happened to my car March 9, 2022 - my father, my father vandalized my car and tried to make it look like my brother  did it. My father stuffed the tailpipe full of McDonald's ketchup packets that he stole from the Biddeford McDonald's where my brother works, which is what caused the fuel line to blow up. I could have died. My car is now being repaired again, for the exact same thing I had to have it repaired for in November 2021. My father tried to kill me and make it look like my brother who works at McDonald's did it so my brother would be blamed. Twice. Once in November 2021 and again 2 days ago.

My father did the same thing in November, because of some guy named Todd who I supposedly convinced to kill himself via may painting a "suicide demon" on my car. There is a picture of Etiole on my car, that is what they are calling "a suicide demon"

I don't know who Todd is, but I assume the Biddeford police know as they did spend a week scrapping the thousands of exploded parts of him off all the houses around Cutts st and South st, after he jumped in front of a train November 19, 2021 at 6:27PM. I was walking my dog and saw him, he was gibbering a lot of wild nonsense stuff like: "fibbery-gibbit-beebydi-booop-bop-boop-bop-booop-beeeeeeeep!" I amused he was either very drunk or very high on drugs or both and was attempting to make train sounds while he ran up and down the train tracks. I thought nothing of it, as he did this on a daily basis all summer long, he was a homeless man who lived in the ravine by the train tressal bridge over the river, the one the police kept chasing out of the black grain building turned storage units. There were 4 people on bicycles, driving circles around him bullying him, teasing him, taunting him daily around 3AM every morning. I saw them while I was walking my dog. It appeared to be his girlfriend and her friends based on the stuff she was yelling at him. Stuff like "You run off with that whore will you! WW I showed you! I killed your dog! Hahahahahaha! I killed your cat! Hahahahaha! And you ain't never gonna see your baby again! Hahahahaha!" I know every one says he commit suicide, but I think he was just running to get away from the harassers on the bikes and was too drunk to see the train. That's certainly what it looked like to me.

THAT was not a suicide, not what I saw happen. That was a man being bullied and chased down by four harassers riding bicycles up the tracks, driving him head on into a train on purpose to try to kill him so they could laugh about it. I wouldn't call THAT a suicide.

Anyways, I didn't know his name or that my mother was best friends with him. Though I had told her about the homeless man being bullied and her response was "Why should I care? It's just a homeless man!" She changed her tune quite a lot after he got hit by the train, and found out his name. The police contacted her or something, when they were trying to find his family. I guess she knew his family on FaceBook or something.

Since his death, me, my car, and my apartment have been attacked on a near daily basis from people who are making the claim that I am online spreading rumours and lies about Todd. I kept asking them who Todd was (because at that point I did not yet know they were talking about the homeless man hit by the train - though I saw him daily for about 4 months, ever since the police kicked him out of the storage until he'd been living in and he lived under the train bridge and in Rotary Park instead - he only ever spoke to me a few times - once to pet my dog and say "they took my dog" and saying "hi" as we passed on the sidewalk. So I never knew his name. He lived in a yellow pup-tent beside the tracks for a while, but one day it was laying out there cut to ribbons by a knife or scissors.)

Even though I only knew him from saying "hi" each night as we passed each other on the sidewalk and I never knew his name until after his death, more then a dozen people have arrived in my driveway (both the Biddeford and Old Orchard addresses) to accuse me and my friend Etiole and the words painted on my Volvo of being the cause of this Todd guy's train death.

They are focusing heavily on the words on my car, which say: "Have information about the murder of my family? Call FBI @ 207-774-9322"

There is a sign in my Old Orchard driveway which says: "Have information about the murder of my children? Call FBI @ 207-774-9322"

On November 14, 2013, at Southern Maine Community College, while I was 8 months pregnant, I was attacked by 3 people with golf clubs. A man and 2 women.

There is no reason for anyone who is NOT involved in the murder of my baby, to be upset about either the sign in my yard or the sign on my car, both of which are nothing more then the FBI phone number with the request for anyone who has information to call.

I don't understand why me asking for people to help find my baby's killer, is seen by my parents as such a huge threat. The only person who who feel threatened by that would be the person who hired the golf club people - Claire, Kendra, and the bald man - who have still not yet been found/caught/identified to this day 9 years later.

Both my mother and my father keep saying and I quote "take that shit off your car, you are only trying to start trouble!" and "get that sign out of your yard, you are only trying to stir stuff up". I'm trying to find the people who murdered my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not trying to cause trouble. How is me asking people to help identify the murderer, me trying to start trouble?

I was paralyzed for 5 months. I had to relearn to walk. I crippled the rest of my life, and my baby is dead. No one should have to live through this type of agony. And no one who commits crimes like this should be allowed to walk free. Would you stand back and do nothing, say nothing, while a criminal like that walked free? How is my asking people to come forward with any information they know, me trying to start trouble? You tell me that!

I'm not allowed to ask for help in finding the psychopath who murdered my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life? What kind of logic is that?

Someone out there knows the names of these people. The older blond woman they called Claire, the younger blond woman with the Shirley Temple sausage curls, the red haired woman they call Kendra, the white haired man with the green pick up truck, the bald man with the 4door white pickup truck, the new redhaired women who screams on the front porch. These people, this group, they are the ones who were wielding golf clubs and murdered my baby. They are being allowed to get away wit murder and I'll spend the rest of my life demanding justice if I have to. You tell me, how is my asking if you know who they are, don't let them kill again, tell the FBI everything you know, by painting that request on my car and a sign in my yard, me looking to start trouble? My mother's priorities are fucked up. All she cares about is money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money! 

I'm the bed ridden, crippled by multiple attacks. The November 14, 2013 golf club attack, I was almost healed from, but the June 2016 shopping cart attack at my workplace at Scarborough WalMart re opened the 2013 injury and doctors can't operate this time because of the bone shards severing my spinal column. I'm crippled for the rest of my life and no one in this family ever cared. 

Both attacks the FBI wanted to talk to my parents and they refused to talk to him both times. My baby was murdered in the first attack. I was 8 months pregnant and all any of them would do was gibberish about "rosemary baby" and say there was no baby because it was a demon because it was Etiole's. My parents and the Atwaters hate Etiole that much, that they shun the existence of my baby and act like it was never there. That's how much they hate me. That's how cruel and hate filled they are towards me. They spent the last 50 years calling me demon possessed and them saying that is WHY local people attack me and killed my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. 

I am in bed 15 or more hours a day, I can barely sit up, I can barely stand up long enough to cook, I have to wear adult diapers since 2013 because half my organs don't work any more because the nerves from those organs to my spine are cut off. My hands shake so bad that it takes me hours to eat a single meal. I can't go back to college, I can't go back to work. But do they care? No. Not my mother. Not my father. Neither of them give a shit. They are both too damned selfish thinking about their own greed to ever once lift a finger to help me. Daddy treats me like a fucking slave and my mother is so far out of my life shunning me because bishop kenning in Saco ward told her too that she hasn't got a clue how bad things are.

I'm not doing a damned thing to any of them. I mind my own business. I write my novels. I don't contact them. I don't talk to them. I don't talk about them.  Someone is clearly pretending to be me online and is slandering me and getting sick of it. My mother flips out about everything thing under the sun and I never have a clue what she's talking about, because I never did or said any of the things she accuses me of. And my father and the Atwaters do the same thing. Some one is out there pretending to be me to get them worked into a frenzy just to sit back and laugh while watching my mother, my father, and the Atwaters be too damned stupid to think. My mother and my father and the Atwaters are all filled with so much pure hatred for me that it takes nothing to convince them to attack me. And whoever it is posting online pretending to be me, knows that and is taking advantage of it. 

They are obsessed with my land, because my mother's father used to tell people there was $7million in gold buried on my land. Several times over the years the Atwaters have invaded bringing with them shovels, pickaxes, and construction equipment, to illegally dig up my land. They've ripped up flowers, dug up bushes, cut down trees... usually they do it while I'm gone to the store, so I come back to find my property ripped to shreds. They've been doing this on an almost yearly basis since Grammy Helen died in 1983. According to what David Henry Atwater claimed, pirates buried treasure on my land in the 1500s. There is ZERO evidence that pirates ever buried anything on my land. Later he changed the story and said that the gold plates of the Book of Mormon Part 2 were buried on my land, this time he claimed an angel from god told him. So the Atwaters have multiple excuses for why they arrive to dig everything up, but it's always that they are gold crazy and have gold fever and are convinced if they dig long enough they'll find gold on my land.

The other obsession they have with my land is a homeless man they call "Etiole". They sometimes claim he is a demon, they other times claim he is an alien, for a few years they called him a cryptid, they often say he's the Mememegwasi spirit of the Saco River Curse, a few of them say he's a watcher/fallen angel, some say he's a ghost of an Indian chief, some say he's the ghost of a French solider, some have called him a Faerie/Leprechaun/FarDarrig ... and a whole slew of other claims. Regardless of what they call him, they all adimintly refuse to believe that he is just an ordinary human, an elderly homeless man who keeps to himself and desperately wants them to leave him alone. That's all he is. He's just a homeless man who lives in the woods and wants them to leave him alone.

The Atwaters are obsessed with Etiole on severe levels and have gone to alarming levels of monstrous harassment of him through the past 50 years. Part of their obsession with him, is caused by their previously mentioned gold fever. You see, Etiole travels all over Maine, I never know where he is at any given time, but when he's in the local area, I let him camp out on my land. I've let him stay with me like this for over 40 years. In the 1980s, one of the times they arrived to dig up my land, Etiole was sleeping in my 1964 Dodge 330, and according to them, he jumped out of the car and "threw blue lighten bolts" at them causing a tornado to destroy their construction equipment. They claimed he turned into a black serpent with red eyes and 6 blue wings that was hundreds of feet long, surrounded them and killed several of them by summoning lightning bolts. . . . uhm . . . yeah. I wasn't home so I didn't see this event, of Etiole supposedly attacking them. But it's pretty clear they had some sort of massive LSD hallucination, given many of them heavily used LSD back in the 1970s and 1980s when this event happened. According to Etiole, he just jumped out of the car and ran into the swamp to hide, he didn't see any of the stuff they described.

After that they got it into their heads that I had summoned a demon (and that Etiole was said demon) to protect my secret cache of pirate gold, and their battle cry of "kill the demon" is what caused them to blow up my house with a bomb October 18, 2006, drive over my house with a backhoe August 8, 2013, beat me up with golf clubs and murder my baby November 14, 2013, cut my 1964 Dodge 330 in half May 10, 2010. All those things you have all those police reports about.

They are convinced Etiole is in my yard to keep them from my gold. The only problem is, there is no gold on my land. Etiole is not a demon, and their extreme levels of harassment are utterly insane! 

But then, when they get caught on my camera, because I'm a daily vlogger, so the camera is running all the time, them they accuse me of harassing them, because their faces showed up on my livestream. Uhm... I'm on y own land, in my own bedroom, usually a few hours into my daily livestream when they get caught in the background trespassing. That's NOT me harassing them. That's them trespassing and vandalizing, and breaking and entering while not realizing I was home and them getting caught in the act of vandalizing and trespassing.

Then they run to FaceBook and make all kinds of wild claims about me stalking them. I'm crippled. I can't even get out of bed. Every time I have them on camera, it's because they were trespassing and breaking and entering. I'm in my bedroom livestream a game on my computer and they'll be smashing out windows and get mad that it happened to be the window in line with my livestream webcam on my computer. That's NOT be stalking them. That's me laying in bed playing Witcher 3 and them breaking in.

I'm too damned sick and crippled to even attempt to do half the crazy shit my mother and my father are accusing me of. And what's worse, my father is right here in the same apartment with me. He sees me every day, he knows how bad off my health is. 

Look how much I'm bleeding all over the house every day. Massive nose bleeds that last for hours to a time, not bleeding from my nose. Just coming out of my nose. I'm so dizzy I can't sit up for weeks to a time. I faint and blackout when I try to get up to go to the bathroom. The pain in my hip and pelvis and knee and spine is so bad I can't even move my fingers to type my novels. 

And look at what they do. Do they really think I'm physically capable of doing the things they accuse me of? They are so damned self centred and paranoid. It's all I can do just to sit up and eat something, how the hell do they think I can do the stuff they accuse me of? My day is spent focusing on trying to get my leg to move so I can make a meal, I don't even have time to think about them. 

It looks more and like my mother and my father are doing this stuff on purpose to try to kill me. My father knows how bad off my heart and lungs are and how difficult it is for me to breath after just a couple of steps. His mother left that land to me in her will in 1983. He stole it, had it put into his name illegally. He's been pissed ever since her death, because she gave everything to me not him. That's been a big problem for him for the last 40 years. He raves about it alongside his ravings about going to Utah taking him off the fire department. He hates my mother because of Utah, blames her every day for losing his fire department pension. He raves about it all night long every single night. He blames me for his mother disinheriting him. He raves about that all the time too. I was only grandchild That's why she left everything to me. Including the land that he stole and put in his name. That land is rightfully mine, his mother gave it to me, and he can't stand it. He's needling my mother about the land just to spite his mother.

He's only trying to get the land away from me because he is mad that the town didn't take it. His mother wanted it to stay in the family. It had been in her family since 1530. Her family was the original settlement family of Old Orchard and my land is that spot that the first house in Old Orchard was built.  My father stopped paying taxes to spite his mother and lose the land. He said so many times. He was angry when I bought the land back from the town. He still is. He wants it out of the family because his mother wanted it in the family. That's why he's trying to turn my mother against me over the land. Because he gates his own mother that much.

Keep in mind the 4 door white truck showed up at my workplace daily. Even though I never knew ahead of time what store I would be working at. I was a retail merchandiser and stocked shelves at dozens of stores all over the state. Walmart's every where, CVS, khols, sometimes local, sometimes as far as Freeport and once in Vermont and once in Massachusetts.  I got the notice of which store to be at 15 minutes before I left. So the only person who ever knew where I was going was my father. 

And yet the 4 door white truck would also arrive ahead of me and be waiting. They didn't follow me, they got their first.

And the police caught the truck and the driver in 2017. Kathy BR owned the truck. Her son was the driver.

The smith's are my parents friends. My mother's visiting and home teachers for years.

Kathy was the district emergency dispatch for all the towns in the area, not just old Orchard. That's why none of the 911 calls went through during the attacks by the 4 door white truck. He only attacked while she was on duty. She never forwarded any of the calls so officers never were told to come help me.

That includes the November 14, 2013 golf club attack in South Portland. But the college security officer made a report even though the police never arrived. That big black officer who was head of security was on duty and him and 2 student officers from the police academy made the report.

And FBI found the data from the calls, that never got forwarded to police, that's why Kathy BR lost her job. Because she's the one who tampered with the 911 call files.

Tim and Kathy BR both, not together, individually, arriving separately, both arrived at my tent multiple times throughout the entire year of 2013, saying they were coming to speak to me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous. So I never knew who sent them. Each time they arrived all they would say was that I had to tear down "the little yellow house" as they called the shop. 

August 8, 2013 the backhoe drove over the shop while I was at work on the food truck down by the pier.

I never saw Tim or Kathy again after that. Not once. And these were people who stopped by to visit my parents daily for over 40 years. Since August 8, 2013 and the backhoe attack on my house, Kathy and Tim have gone to alarming extreme levels to avoid running into me. They just down the street, on one of the private drives, so it's difficult to avoid running into me, and we used to see them a few times a week at local grocery stores. They both, if they see me in a store, literally throw whatever they are carrying across the store and run out of the store like they have a pack of rabid wolves on their heels. It's pretty fascinating thing to see.

My cousin and next door neighbour Tim Murphy was murdered that same week, a few days before the backhoe. His body was left at the cascade Ross road crossroad. 14 days later his head was left at the Portland Ave Ross road crossroad road. His mother put up the big white cross a month later. 

Note that there were THREE 4-door white trucks, a smaller one, a larger one, and a mega-sized giant one -like a Dodge Power Wagon type only it was not a Dodge Power Wagon it was one of the look alike brands, possibly a Nissan. The owner and driver of the big-big-super sized one is still unidentified. The other 2 were both caught in 2017, Kathy BR's truck being the larger of the 2. The 3 trucks often showed up together and drive circles around me, on Rout 1/Portland Rd, while I was driving. They would slam my car from back and sides and push me off the road. Several times they did damage to the frame of my car with had to be repaired multiple times. They've done several tens of thousands in damages to my Volvo over the years. You already have a lot of the smashed up car photos on file, at both Biddeford and Old Orchard police departments, you each have more then a dozen reports for attacks on my car -though the FBI has said someone attempted to destroy several of the records with my name, at the Old Orchard police department. FBI said they arrested the officers who did that. I don't know which files were damaged or how. 

For several years/decades now, I have had multiple people trying to buy my land. The same people over and over again. Only buying my land is not what they are asking for. Rather, they claim my land is cursed and I have to sell it to break the curse. Crazy, I know, but that's what they say. The crazier part is they say that after I sell my land I have to hand the money over to them so they can use it as a down payment on a house they want to buy in Kennebunk. The people in question are my parents and they've been doing this for well over 20 years now. I've always said "no, I'm not selling my land" and left it at that.

My mother (she changes her last name often, I'm not sure which she currently uses) and my father my father both have become extreme hostile and violent the past 2 weeks, and I'm not sure what set them off, but they are hyper infuriated on my refusal to sell my land and give them the money for a down payment of a house in Kennebunk. 

I did not suspect them, all these years, because always been other people showing up and say they were contacting me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous, but now they are directly doing it themselves.

Starting in June 2001, lots of harassment started and at first, I did not suspect them, or think there was a connection. But now they are outright bragging to my face, that they are the ones behind the vandalism. Like I said, check the police records for 144, 146, 148 Portland Ave from June 2001 til current date. There have been dozens of attacks, including drive by shootings, the bombing of my house, the backhoe driving over my next house, me being beat up with golf clubs which is why I am crippled now for the rest of my life and how my baby died.

The FBI is involved. If you need more information beyond what I've written here,  FBI Agent Andy Drewer can be reached at 207-774-9322 he is at the Portland Office on Middle Street, he is in charge of the investigation, of several events, namely the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, which my uncle Paul Martel went to prison for building the bomb and selling it to ISIS. The 2006 bombing of the house at 144 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine. My baby was murdered November 14, 2013, a backhoe drove over my house at 146 Portland August 8, 2013 that's why I'm at the Biddeford apartment right now, because we can't get Kathy BR at the town hall to get a building permit, even though she's not the one in charge of that, she takes over our application and won't let it be approved, because she claims I shouldn't be allowed to live in Old Orchard, due to my having left the Mormon church to become a Voodoo Priestess, she says that makes me a witch and I'm not allowed to apply for a house building permit on those grounds, so, it's been 9 years and I'm still without a house on my land in Old Orchard and still stuck in a Biddeford apartment.

It is a long list of a lot of things happening. I'll try to organize it all in order:

At it's start, the whole thing goes back to a homeless man who wishes to remain anonymous, so I'm not using his real name here, nor have I ever used his real name anywhere online or offline or with any conversation with any one.

He, didn't do anything wrong. Quite the contrary, all he's ever done is live in the Ross Forest and surrounding swamps and marshes along the Saco River in Pine Point, OOB, Saco, Biddeford, and probably other areas, he moves around a lot rotating where he sets up camp, something he's done since 1953. I know quite a few people have seen him and talked to him, I don't know if any police officers have ever encountered him or not. Because he is elderly and in frail health, I often let him stay on my land. He's the ONLY person who has permission to be there. Herein lays the problem: he's deformed from acid burn scars covering most of his body. Churches around the area have spent decades accusing him of being a cryptid, alien, demon, watcher, fallen angel, you name it, someone has called him some weird conspiracy. According to him, himself, he was a Jewish WW2 concentration camp survivor, who arrived in OOB with a bunch of other refugees in 1953. Because he's so deformed by his scars, he was bullied by the locals who refused to believe him a human, and that's why he fled into the forest and never set foot in society again. The problem is, the people harassing me have made up this wild conspiracy that he's a demon and I'm protecting him, and they claim they need to get me off my land in order to get to him.

This all started in 1978.

My parents (my father and my mother), uncles (12), aunts (12+), and cousins (64 at the 1970s/1980s time - more then 400 today), teased and bullied me throughout my childhood about him, but they teased and bullied everyone about everything, so I didn't think that much of their bullying back in the 1970s and 1980s when it first started happening. It was just them being the toxic bullies that they are to everyone.

It wasn't until the 1990s and 2000s that it started to become a problem. And 207 is when I first realized how big of a problem it really was.

In 1996 and 1997 Aunt aunt B sent out lots of emails to the family claiming the emails had been written by me. I did not have email, internet, or even a computer yet. She got Dickie (Richard Merlin Atwater) and David (Atwater) and Joey (Atwater -the one who lives in Australia and is wanted by the FBI for kidnapping and selling babies back in the 1980s- FBI can't arrest him until he leaves Australia -I'm not sure why- so he became a citizen. I don't know the details of what he's wanted for.) in raving warpath over it. All three of them showed up in OOB -even Joey from Australia-though I didn't know he was wanted by the FBI back than. But they arrived here in OOB to yell at me in person, because aunt B made the claim that the emails were from me, so they were all mad at me for having written them, but I never did know the contents of the emails because I didn't write them.

I did not see the emails. I didn't have access to a computer back then ad I didn't have internet until 2007 a full 11 years later. Dickie had several of them printed out and waving them around, but I never got a chance to read what they said. One of the emails was 64 pages long, and according to Dickie was all about aliens. I know nothing about aliens, so most of what he said was just gibberish nonsense to me. This was in 1996, shortly before Heaven's Gate killed 39 people in California and at the time, all 3 of those uncles, plus a few other uncles were members of Heaven's Gate, and one uncle -Mervin Bruce Atwater-made the claim to be "the leader of the Maine division of Heaven's Gate"- I don't know if he actually was a Heaven's Gate leader or not, but he maintained that he was right up until 2019, and in April 2019 he was making the claim to be following Comet Wormwood because HaleBop was the wrong one. Like I said, they were coming up with some pretty wild alien and UFO claims and I'm not sure how much of what they claimed was true.

Well, this was the first time I heard the word "Etiole" which was the nickname they had given to the homeless man who sometimes camped out on my yard. Etiole is not his name, it's always been just the word the Atwaters call him (they say it means man from the stars or alien and that it's a French word. I don't know French, aunt B is the one who knows French, so I never would have given him a French name.) Somewhere in the emails, aunt B had called the homeless man "Etiole" and "amphibious alien" and made the claim that he was an "alien grey" who had abducted me to some mother-ship.  

I have never been abducted by aliens and never made such a claim. I never heard such foolishness. But, that this point, I wasn't fully aware of what they were talking about, so I didn't yet realize they were saying that I was making the claim to have been abducted by aliens.

That's the summer they all showed up talking about Etiole and amphibious aliens and alien abduction. aunt B was the one who started all of that stuff about Etiole, who I never called Etiole. But that was how it got started...all this stuff that is happening now with the vandalism and threats going on this week March 2022.

Bruce and Dickie went to a bunch on MUFON forums from 1996 to 2007 spreading lies about me and Etiole calling him a demon and alien and claiming I was an alien abducted. I found out about what they were doing in 2007 after they'd already been doing it for 11 years. 

I don't think aunt B has ever stopped sending out emails about Etiole while pretended to be me, I think she is still doing it. I think this, because in December 2021, I was at the Biddeford library when an elderly man came over to me, asked if I was EelKat and asked me why I was sending him hundreds of emails about Etiole, and who was Etiole? I told the man I don't use email, I've never emailed anyone, I don't know what he's talking about. He says he gets over 300 emails a day about Etiole from someone claiming to be EelKat. But here's the thing: EelKat is not something I call myself. I'll explain that in a bit.

First, let's go back to 1994. Before aunt B started sending the emails out, while claiming they were written by me. My father (my father) was the one who told the Atwaters about Etiole. My father and Dickie both called him "the white monkey". 

In 1994 and 1996 Bishop Paul Morgan asked me to his office and showed me a bunch of letters, all of them signed "The White Monkey, OST". He said the letters were written to sound like I had written them but he said he'd seen my handwriting before and knew I hadn't written these. The Bishop wanted to know if I recognized the handwriting. Some had been written by my father. Others had been written by Dickie. One was written by my mom's father David Henry Atwater who died several years ago now. This was the Mormon bishop in Cape Elizabeth. This bishop had more then one hundred letters laying on his desk, and he had several boxes more around his desk. He said he received no fewer then 5 letter every day for several months, and was quite concerned for my safety as he felt the letter writers may be "mentally unhinged" and "highly dangerous" based on what he called "several homicidal rants" contained in the letters. He said he was giving the letters to Paul Peterson, at Pine Land Centre Mental Health Institute in New Gloucester, because he felt my father and my uncle Dickie should be committed due to the contents of the letters.

The letters looked physically bizarre. Each one started like a normal letter, straight across sentences, line by line, but upon reaching the end of the page, the words spiralled around the outer edge and into a circle around the page, then upside down bottom to top between the first rows.

Each letter contained codes and cryptographers, and large portions of the letters were unreadable unless you cracked the "secret code" that was included with them.

Both my father and my uncle Dickie frequently wrote in that weird spiral and zigzag of lines fashion. My father's letters were the ones that included the cryptography and hidden codes. Dickies letters were just weird spiralling but no codes to solve.

I did not read any of the letters, but the Bishop was deeply upset by them, and stated that he used to be Catholic before becoming Mormon and said that if he was still Catholic he'd recommend my father had an excorsim down, because as the Bishop put it "the white monkey letters are the closet thing I've ever seen to demon possession".

Later that same year Paul Peterson from Pine Land Centre arrived at church and asked to talk to me. He had with him, some of the White Monkey letters and like the Bishop asked me to id the handwriting.

Stake President Earnshaw (of the same church) later called me in to his office for similar letters he had also received and again the white monkey letters were written by mostly daddy and some Dickie all pretending to be me, trying to make it look like I was pretending to be Etiole. 

In total 16 Bishops and 2 stake presidents had contacted me over the years about white monkey letters, all citing they were receiving them daily. Some said members were receiving them. When I stopped attending the Mormon church, my mother's minister's at the 15 churches she was attending at the time, all started getting the letters. (At the time my mom had a belief that she had to be in church as close to 24 hours a day as possible, so she was attending week day church services at every church that had them, even though she was not a member of most of those churches. She became an atheist last I had heard and attends no churches at all anymore as far as I know.) 

My father was in and out of the hospital a lot during this time period (1991 to 1996-ish), due to the violent fights between him and my mother which included him twice being hospitalized due to blood gushing head injuries from a brick, which also included OOB police arresting my mother for beating him said brick. The psychiatrist from Pine Land Centre felt that my dad suffered serious brain damage from one of the brick beating attacks, and wanted him to press charges against my mother, but he refused. The psychiatrist said he felt that my dad's White Monkey letters was a side effect of the multiple head injuries he was hospitalized for. 

The white monkey letters stopped in 2007 when the psychiatrist at Biddeford hospital diagnosed my father as having schizophrenia and put him on psychiatric medicine. The Biddeford police have this arrest on record. We were living at Water st at the time and my father had tried to kill me and my brother Joshua and also himself. The police arrested him. He was in the psych ward for around a week, and released because of the drastic change in his personality that was caused by the medication. He was only released on the condition that he maintained the meds.

Since 2007 no one has mentioned Etiole or the white monkey, until November 19, 2021, when things (the vandalism and harassment and threats) started escalating, the week Todd Murphy died when people started showing up in Biddeford driveway yelling about Etiole and calling him a suicide demon, claiming my Volvo was demon possessed, and accusing me of driving my car around town to drive people to suicide. I don't know who these people were. The one doing most of the yelling has very unique and very identifiable hair: it's a "high fashion" stick straight bob, like what you see in Italy Runways, super stiff as a board, stick straight, like she uses a few jars of jell to get it so straight. And a weird dark-purple tinted red. Very anime cartoon looking hair. You can't mistake it. She always wears big dark glasses, and usually has a little skinny blond man with her, who appears to be her husband or boyfriend. She frequently is beating him over the head with a baby car seat, while yelling at me and my car, while standing on the front porch of our building. They don't live here, I don't know who they re or where they come from. She did it almost every day of December, and most of the last week of November 2021.

This is the first time anyone has mentioned Etiole in years.

They call him Etiole sometimes, White Monkey other times. 

I should tell you where the term "white monkey" come from.

There was a white monkey, in OOB in the 1970s. It belonged to Helen Pearly of Pine Point and was part of her "White Animal Farm" zoo that she ran, which was a little petting zoo of all albino animals. I think it shut down in the early 1980s. Most older folks of the area remember Helen Pearly and her albino zoo animals - which included an elephant, and other such animals. Well, one day the white monkey escaped and Helen Pearly was a friend of my grandmother's (Helen Ricker Allen) and Helen Pearly showed up at 146 Portland Ave (than 862 because the road was renumbers in 1982) to tell my Grammy Helen the monkey had been seen nearby and to let her know if we saw it. Well, after that me and the other neighbour kids started going out into the swamps looking for the white monkey because Helen Pearly was offering a reward for it being returned. And one day we saw it, and tried to catch it and we followed it into the swamps and we found a homeless man out there. He was sick and starving to death. 

The white monkey belonged to Helen Pearly and has nothing to do with Etiole at all. In 1978 Helen Pearly had a pet white monkey that got lost. Me and Atwater cousin Micheal and my Murphy cousin Timmy (the one whose white cross is on the Ross rd he died in 2013) saw it in the woods out back and tried to catch it. We found Etiole the same day. Etiole is a homeless man who lives behind my land in the woods. Me and Micheal and Timmy took him food. And to this day, we still do, except Michael moved away and Timmy died in 2013 so that left just me taking care of Etiole today. Etiole is very old, probably 80s or 90s today. He's very small, not much bigger than a child, maybe around 5'1"-ish. He's covered with acid burns, scars, and tattoos. He has extreme PTSD and is terrified of the sight of people. He's very skittish, almost mute, speaks mostly with his hands, and run terrified from any people who try to get near him. The only reason he didn't run the day we found him, was because he was very sick, probably pneumonia or something like that. Had we children not found him and taken him food for the next several weeks, he probably would have died that same summer. He must have been in his 50s or 60s back then in 1978.

We told the adults about him, and they went to find him, but, they found some plants instead out there in the swamp, and my mom called the police, and the OOB police called the state police, and the state police called the FBI and the entire rest of the week was lots of police digging up lots of plants. Adam and the Babe, were 2 police officers who were left to stand watch over us children while every one else hauled out the plants. News reporters showed up and the news stations called it "Maine's largest drug raid". I don't know what drug plants look like so I don't know what kind of drugs they were. According the the FBI agents who talked to use kids (we were all 5 to 10 years old at the time) a "bad name named Bryan Cyr put those bad plants in the swamp". The FBI agents said they had been looking for Bryan Cyr and his Cyr Clan from Connecticut for several years and wanted to know had we seen him.  We had not, though we did see him about a year later when the big shoot out happened at 142 Portland Ave in front of the Dome house - the day the dome house blue up because Anne Cyr set fire to the meth lab inside- I saw her poured 3 gas cans on the house then throw several matches. Bryan fled in a robin egg blue micro-mini pick up truck, screaming that the meth lab was gonna blow. The whole house went up like a mushroom cloud. It's the only time I ever saw the Cyr Clan.) 

Adam and the Babe went with us kids to look for the sick homeless man/Etiole as he's now called by locals, but he was gone by then, because it had been 5 or 6 or more hours since the adults found the plants. The 2 police officers looked all over the forest for him, and stopped when they found a human leg bone in the Bachelder Brooke and took that with them and left to join the other officers. (144, 146, and 148 Portland Ave and the swamps and forest behind it is a massive Native American grave - there are at least 500 graves, that back in the 1970s all still had markers, most of the dates are 1400s to 1500, but in the mid 1980s someone stole most all of the slate grave markers, so they are unmarked today. I assume the leg bone was from one of those graves - human bones wash up out of the ground all the time on these sections of land because there are just so many Native American graves all over the place here, on my land and the lands abutting me. It's why the Powder Horn campground can't expand any closer to my land - they hit Native American graves last time they expanded the campground.)

So, because they got sidetracked by all the drug plants and all the police everywhere for the rest of the week, the adults never saw the homeless man or the white monkey as both had been scared off by the huge crowd of drug raid crews.

For some reason because we found him while looking for Helen Pearly white monkey my father and the Atwaters got it in their heads that Etiole was a demon alien shape shifter who turned into a white monkey to lure me and Micheal into the woods. And that's how their stupid ass alien and demon rumours got started.

I should point out, her family, The Atwaters, are the Scottish Traveller Gypsies, aka as The Scottish Mafia by several white Americans, her brothers Bruce and David and several of Davids adult children, grandchildren, and great grand children call themselves Scottish Mafia  and act every bit fitting on that title, which is both why the FBI is investigating and why I have nothing to do with them.

Right after the June attack on her car, a large group of Irish Travellers showed up from the Carilinas and Tennessee and were setting up squatting camps all around the area, The had set up a large camp on BB street behind my Main st/Cutts St apartment in Biddeford, setting up in the big chain link fenced yard on the corner (which is why the owners have since roped the land off.) I didn't think anything of it at first, because the Irish Travellers show up in Southern Maine every year for decades now, so there's nothing unusual about seeing them setting up camps on any space they can find, you see it every year. Usually they camp on the cow farms in Dayton/Buxton/North Saco area, so seeing them in Biddeford was a bit strange.

I point this out because the week they arrived on BB, my mother and her Atwater siblings and their families flipped out big time. They put heavy focus on "the brown house on the corner and the chain link fence yard across the street" and laid out to harassing the landlords of those two locations. They had a list of around 100 addresses in Biddeford, Cape Elizabeth, and many other places included Rhode Island and Connecticut. I saw the list because my mother showed up at my yard waving it around and demanding I help her and the Atwaters stage an attack on the Irish Travellers, whom she claimed was family of the man in the green truck with the 2x4 attack on her car.

A war between the Scottish Travellers/Scottish Mafia/The Atwaters and the Irish Travellers -which include The Cry Clan drug gang from Connecticut - the one the FBI is here looking for-, is the last thing I want to get involved in. Those same two clans are the ones who did the 4-5-8 shoot out back in the 1970s/1980s, when they blew up the dome house at 142 Portland Ave. They were armed to the teeth with truck loads and school bus loads of illegal military guns back in the 4-5-8 shoot out and I don't want to see what kind of weaponry that same group lugs around now 40 years later.

I am a Voodoo Priestess. Voodoo is also known as Folk Catholicism. It is a branch of the Catholic Church. Voodoo is a Christian religion, that focuses on reverence the ancestors. Hollywood Horror movies have slandered our religion to such an extent that the average person thinks Voodoo is dark magic, death spells, curses, and voodoo dolls. Those are all things that exist only in Hollywood and do not exist in real world Voodoo. The problem is made worse, when teens and young adults, not knowing the actual religion, call themselves Voodoo while practising things they see in movies.  While the older generations of Gypsies and Travellers know the difference, younger generation have fallen far from the old traditions, especially the old religion, and sadly, even among Gypsies and Travellers today, many in the age group of 60 years old and younger, only know Voodoo from Horror movies and not from their grandmother's actual practice.

I say this because my mother and her Atwaters wanted me to join then as a "figure head" for their cause. They specifically demanding I summon demons, make voodoo dolls, cast curses, and use magic to kill the list of people living at the addresses on the list they had. In short they attempted to hire me to be a quasi-hit-man for them.

When I explained to them that this is not what Voodoo is about, Voodoo is peaceful, non-violent, we shun weapons and hurtful acts of all types, they lashed out at Etiole -who was not here, it was just me they were yelling at, yelling about him. My mother called Etiole a demon, said he was my familiar, said "I know you work with demons, you can't lie to me" and "you cast death curses on people all the time you lying little bitch, you just won't do it for me because you want to spite your mother, after all I do for you!

I made a Twitch livestream video that same day, telling what was going on and what I feared was about to happen, because I have seen these same two Gypsy clans go to war with each other before.

Well, I have too much to deal with with my health. I'm bedridden 15+ hours a day, so I do nothing but play video games and write novels and edit novels, ALL of which I do on livestream - yes, I livestream for 12 to 15, sometimes 19 hours each and every single day, and I have 92TB of hard drive full of that video footage all the way back to 2015 - I have every minute of every day of my life not only live streamed on Twitch, but I have ALL the video footage files, which mean I have footage of all the attacks, all the yelling at my car, all the demanding I cast death spells, all the trying to hire me as a hit man - all of it. I have over 15k hours of video footage. And because most of the attacks happened during a livestream, there are also hundreds of witness online who saw and heard the attacks and threats already, seeing and hearing them as they were happening.

Going back to the suspecting someone is impersonating me... My mother makes the claim that it is her right to cut the wires off my Biddeford apartment building, because she claims I've put her name, address, and where she goes online. I've never put her address or name or where she goes on the internet. Don't know what she's talking about. I gave her the FBI contact info and told her that if she actually is seeing "me" posting this stuff she claims I'm posting online, then she needs to forward that stuff to the FBI because it's someone impersonating me, and that was one of the things the FBI has suspected was happening so they are actively looking for that kind of stuff. They are trying to get to the bottom of who it is spreading these wild, crazy ass rumours and lies, both doing it in my name and doing it about me.

They've already located a shut down a few dozen impersonation of me, social network accounts, and so far, to date, all of them have belonged to just one person: my mother's brother Mervin Bruce Atwater. Well, it makes sense that HE would know her home address and where she goes, seeing how, for the past decade they were kind of joined at the hip and did everything together. Yeah, of course he knows where she lives and what car she drives and where she goes. 

Also, I never went to school, she did not allow it, There were several legal/court battles between my mom and the OOB school and the state of Maine ad the department of education throughout the 1980s, over the fact that she was actively refusing to allow me to attend school. So I never learned to do math or numbers. I don't know how to count or do money or any stuff like that. And numbers don't register in my head for some reason. People will tell me a phone number or home address and 5 seconds later my mind is blank on the numbers. I can't remember them. That's why when something like an attack happens I write down the tie and date immediately and keep it on a chart - I have a list, day by day, all times and dates of every attack since June 2001. I wouldn't be able to remember what happened when if I didn't keep a list like that.

Well, my mother knows all of this, so she knows even if she had told me her address, which she didn't, I wouldn't have remembered it long enough to even write it down.

In June 2021, I found out she moved, because I was walking my dog -we walk 3 to 4 miles a day, all over Biddeford, Old Orchard, and Scarborough, because I am trying to rebuild my leg muscles after having been bedridden since 2013, with only minimal movement- Doctors said I would never walk again and I aim to prove them wrong and well I have, because I am at least walking enough to walk my dog each day, but it is very difficult, and every step I take feels like a sword stabbing up my right leg and into my spine, because of the nerve damage. It is why I walk so slow and limp so bad, because it hurts terrible to step down.

Well, one day I was walking my dog and all of a sudden, there's my mother, telling me that I'm standing in front of her house and I was surprised, because last I knew she lived several miles away. I had no clue she lived 2 streets over from me and that she had done so for 3 years!

I don't know how she expects me to even know where she goes considering I've had no contact with her in almost a decade now, not since the stunt she pulled April 10, 2015 when she broke into my motorhome, filled it with feces, and then locked her 13 cats in it to frame me for animal abuse. She did not expect the Old Orchard Beach police to arrive and confiscate her cats and then not give them back to her and she has been in a social media battle with several animal shelters, veterinarians, animal control officers, and police officers ever since. Most of her harassment of these people has been targeted at former OOB town hall worker DF  and OOB police officer WW , both of whom she has been harassing on FaceBook for the past 7 years. You can ask DF  and WW  and their family and friends on FaceBook, how bad it has gotten. In recent months she added a new person to her FaceBook harassment, I don't know their name, just that it's the ex-wife and 15 year old son of someone named Todd Murphy who recently died from being hit by a train in front of my Biddeford apartment on Nov 19, 2021. Sometimes she says his death was a suicide, other times she says he was murdered and thrown in front of the train. I don't know which it is, I didn't know him, and only have her word for any of it.

In her mind, the way the whole thing was supposed to happen was: you police were supposed to confiscate my motorhome and she would take her cats and go home. 

What actually happened was: you police confiscated her cats, and I kept my motorhome.

She has spent the last 7 years harassing every pet shelter and rescue in New England, trying to find the cats.

In answer to questions about the cats from April 2015—those were cats belonging to Wayne Whitten of Biddeford, Maine. I was never able to talk about it because of the court case going on between Wayne's family and the Atwaters.

To make matters even worse, the cats were not hers, either. Rather, they belonged to Wayne Whitten and his daughter. My mother had stolen the cats from Wayne, in an act of retaliation, after Wayne refused to hand over to her, his father, William's land.

If you do not know, there are several polygamists in my family, all on the Atwater side. My mother is one of them. Wayne Whitten is one of her many Husbands, and therefore Wayne Whitten is also my stepfather.

In May 2010, my mother took a chainsaw to my 1964 Dodge 330. But it was not the ONLY car she attacked that week. Two days earlier, she took a chainsaw to Wayne's black 1970s vintage Dodge. AFTER, she locked her Old English sheepdog in the trunk and left it there for 6 months, and then tried to say that Wayne killed her dog, when in fact, she had.

Many people in Biddeford, Maine knew Wayne Whitten and his father William Whitten, and both men were known for the wild tales of Wayne's 5th wife, Jeannie, who daily beat him, gathered her older brothers to beat him, and hospitalized him several times, multiple times nearly killing him. That wife is also my mother.

Unfortunately for Wayne Whitten, no one would believe him about how violent and psychotically deranged his wife was and in the space of only a few weeks, his father, then his cats, and then Wayne himself all died. Because of the violent nature of Wayne's death, details were withheld from the public.

Three cats—the white cat Old Lady, and the 2 tabby's Trouble and Sassy, were already dead before the police arrived, and all three were diagnosed as having been force-fed rat poison. This is why, even though my mother put 13 cats in my motorhome, the police only took 10 cats.

Wayne's father, William, owned the cape house next door to Ben's Flooring in Biddeford, behind Walmart. In his 90s, with his health failing, my mother arrived demanding William sell his house and give her the money for a down payment on a mansion in Kennebunk. The exact same demands she is now making at me, these 7 years later. She did this to William Whitten in 2015, and Wayne's daughter to this day maintains that my mother's threats, demands, and harassment were the major contributing factors of William's death.

My mother took the Whitten cats, intending to hold them hostage, until William sold his house and gave her the money. This was why she hid the cats in my motorhome. This is also why when the police showed up asking about the cats, I had no clue what they were talking about and let them search the motorhome telling them there were no cats in it. My mother broke into my motorhome and hid the cats in there, apparently 3 days earlier, and I was unaware she had done this so was unaware the cats were there.

This is also why, when police officer Will Watson asked how many cats there were and what their names were, why I did not know how many cats there were and only knew the names of a couple of the cats that I had heard Wayne talk about.

William Whitten died while the cat fiasco was going on.

Wayne, realizing what my mother had done to his cats, tried to get them back, but he died a few weeks later.

Wayne, his father, and his cats all died a few weeks apart from each other.

My mother went around triumphantly bragging that she had gotten Wayne's father's land, via being Wayne's wife, and set about to the process of buying the house in Kennebunk. And got slapped with a reality check when the two wills got read and both William and Wayne had left everything they had to Wayne's daughter.

In raging inferno, my mom lashed out at Wayne's daughter, and a lawsuit happened, with Wayne's daughter charging my mother with kidnapping the cats, and using rat poison to slowly poison Wayne. A massive Facebook war happened between the Whittens and the Atwaters as my mother got her Atwater thugs involved, and the Whitten's fled in terror once they realized the rumours that my mother was part of the Scottish Mafia, was in fact, very, very, very true.

To this day, the remains of Wayne Whitten's surviving family live in mortal terror, daily vandalism, and barbaric levels of harassment at the hands of my mother, and her brothers Bruce and David and David's sons and grandsons.

More details of what happened can be found here: Amphibious Aliens: https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html

And no, for the people who are confused, Amphibious Aliens has nothing to do with aliens. It is about a homeless man whom my mother and her brother Bruce, over hyper focused on, and together my mother and Bruce created an elaborate alien abduction and demon possession hoax, so they could try to scam several dozen locals out of their houses.

This cat stealing, house stealing scam is something they have been doing to people all over Southern Maine since BEFORE I was even born. The earliest known attempt at this house stealing scam dates back to their father David Henry Atwater and a house he stole in the 1930s in Rumford Maine. At the time, my grandfather used the hoax of an angel from heaven coming down and telling him to take the Rumford farm. And at the time, my grandfather was a transport driver for Honey Fizt's ACTUAL Boston Mafia, which is WHY, the Atwaters make the claim to be the Scottish Mafia. Their claim is that because they are Scottish, and their father worked for Honey Fitz that they are Mafia. But the Atwaters are neither Scottish nor Mafia, both claims are outright lies that are nothing more than part of the scam they run.

As can be seen with BOTH what she has spent the past 5 decades doing to Etiole and what she is currently doing to Todd Murphy's family on and off FaceBook, you can see how much my mother hyper focuses on homeless people and abusing their friends and relatives and using the homeless person's homelessness as excuses for the scams she runs.

That she spent decades running a land stealing scam in Etiole's name, and now is running another land stealing scam in Todd Murphey's name is utterly deplorable.

And you people who wonder WHY I've not had contact with my mother in 30 years, WHY I shun her. WHY I hate her and her Atwater thugs so much... you are right now witnessing it live as they do it all over again, this time taking advantage of the pain and suffering of Todd Murphy's family to try to steal land from people in the name of a homeless man who was killed by a train.

I am thoroughly and utterly disgusted with my mother's vile abuse of the Murphy family and what she is doing in the name of a dead man.

I've said it thousands of times before and I'll say it again: The Atwaters are scum.

The Atwaters devote their lives to abusing homeless people and the families of those homeless people, just so they can run their filthy scams, and I’m fucking sick of the Atwaters and their filth.


She has had several retaliation attacks happen to her, done by family and friends of the people she's harassing on FaceBook. the retaliation attacks included a Biddeford Public Works road grader being driven into her yard and over her car in 2017. Two additional attacks on her next car, the following year. And in June 2021 a man driving a green pick up truck drove into her yard and beat her car with a 2by4. (Note, I did not witness any of these attacks on her cars and only have her word on what happened.)

All of these people she is fighting with on FaceBook, I don't know, they are people she knows and they are not on my FaceBook and I blocked her and all the Atwaters from my FaceBook back in May 2015, when her and her nieces and nephews and siblings were posting death threats on my FB profile. One cousin cousin name, posted pictures of herself carrying a machine gun (not automatic rifle - but a machine gun - the big type you put on a tripod and have a belt full of hundreds of bullets slung over your shoulder- similar to a gatland gun but not as big, though she had pictures of her gatland gun too that she was also posting on my FB) She'd write under the pictures "This is the gun I'm going to shoot you with"... her husband was one of the guys arrested after the Jan 6 attack, by the way - the guy in Florida with the Nancy something's ( forget her last name, I think it began with a P? I don't know American politics, I find it all confusing so I'm not sure who the Nancy woman was). He stole her pulpit and  he was posting pictures of him stealing on FB. Her mom is aunt L, and she and he were among the 23 cousins that the FBI has been trying to find because they supplied a lot of the guns for the Jan 6th attack, according to posts they made on FB. I don't know, I never saw any such posts because I have them all blocked n FB since 2015. Her brother cousin name was also posting pictures of him carrying guns and writing death threats underneath on my FB wall. His messages said: "I'm an ordained Aaronic Priest and god has given me permission to blow your brains out with this gun". cousin name and cousin name are 2 of David and aunt L's 15 adult kids -all are 40 to 60+ years old. David is my mom's oldest brother, he's in his 80s. He is very violent, there has never been an occasion of him arriving on my land in Old Orchard, that did not involve his trying to kill me, usually by strangling me. He is the most violent of all the uncles. Several times while he's been here he beat up his adult kids by hitting them in the face with weights off of dumbells. 

Most of the Atwater men are retired Marines, and all of them are over 6'2" the tallest, is 7'3". These guys are HUGE and are all weightlifters. You don't want to cross one of the Atwater uncles, they are former Marines trained in weaponless combat. David runs a compound in Palmyra.. . and you might have just seen his crew in the news - they were doing a squatter's rights takeover of that big mansion next door to Stephen King in Bangor and somehow the place caught fire. The news reports didn't mention Stephen King and went out of their way to get camera angles that kept King's house out of the news, but I'm as familiar with Bangor streets as I am Old Orchard and Biddeford streets, so I recognized which house it was on the news, that got attacked by the squatters doing a take over war. 

My uncle and his kids are trying to confiscate the land all around Stephen King - they say they have the right to because no one was ever paid any money for being in The Thinner movie. That happened about 2 weeks ago, the news did not list the squatters name, but like I said, it's my uncle and his crew, they been focusing on the 20 or so houses around King's big red Victorian, for over a decade now. They tried to get me to help them do it, that's how I found out. They made the claim that because I'm an author I should be able to reason with Stephen King and convince him to hand over his red Victorian house in exchange for his never paying them for being in The Thinner. I told them to get lost and burn in hell. Just because I'm an author and King's film crew filmed a part of Thinner on my land in Old Orchard doesn't mean I know King himself, I never even met him, and them being obsessed with stealing land from people is just out of control. 

The whole Atwater clan does this. They don't see anything wrong with moving in, setting up camp, and driving the rightful land owners off their land at gunpoint.

They act like it's a family tradition to steal land from people, via squatting, harassment, corrosion, death threats, and outright just forging deeds and switching the files, like they did with my land.

And that's the issue we have going on right now. My mother has gone on a psych crazed warpath vendetta of taking my land or else, and or else so far has included her twice now having my father shove things up the tailpipe of my car, both times doing lots of damage t the car when I started the engine and everything inside blew up because of the fuel line blocked. And twice now - each time the same day as attacking my Volvo cutting the wires off the Biddeford apartment as well, in the same driveway where the car was parked.

Both times they admitted to doing it and both times used the justification that I deserved it because I was refusing to sell my land and give my mother the money to buy a house in Kennebunk. She says she has to move to Kennebunk to "get away from the niggars invading Maine, Kennebunk is all white they don't allow no niggars". She's very crude and vulgar and has an extreme hatred for black people and hangs around online with some group that calls itself "the workers of iniquity" which claims to be "a branch of the Ku Klux Klan because the original Ku Klux Klan is not strict enough".

Throughout 2016 people wearing KKK-like white robes and hood showed up in Old Orchard to make threats about my land. Back then I was unaware that my mother was friends with such a group. The robes are NOT KKK robes, the KKK robes are very distinctive, covered with fancy bead work and embroidery, and are not white, but are usually green or red or blue or yellow. It's a Hollywood myth that the KKK wears white, and that's how you can tell REAL KKK from fake wannabe's pretending to be KKK. Real KKK is not wearing white sheets and white pillowcases. The real KKK is a church that is organized similar to Catholic church and all their robes mean specific ranks, also they don't wear hood, they wear mitre hats like the pope does, and have a veil mask over their eyes. So its pretty easy to identify real KKK from fakers in white sheets, and the people showing up in my yard were not real KKK, they were fakers literally wrapped in white bed sheets with pillow cases over their heads. 

Well, various white-power groups show up in the area, that's nothing unusual. Neo-Nazi, Sovereign Citizens, ect. They've always been around Maine, so much so that there are KKK and white power history museums in Maine -one is in Saco. So, I didn't think much of the white hood idiots in my yard. We are Gypsies, white hooded idiots are a part of our non-white life.

Well, here's the thing: we are not white. My mother's mother was not a Gypsy. Eva Viola Little John Dyer Atwater was half Kickapoo Native American and half black. He mother was 100% Native America. Her father 100% black. My mom is 1/4 black, 1/4 Native American, and 1/2 Gypsy of Roumania/Arabian/Middle Eastern descent. There is not one drop of white blood in her. Which is why I was surprised to hear her say: "I gotta move to Kennebunk to get away from the niggars invading Maine, Kennebunk is all white they don't allow no niggars". Yes, Kennebunk is all white, and look at the news, the black school teach who lives in Old Orchard Beach and worked at Kennebunk schools is daily bombarded with swastika painted on her car while she's teaching class. I can't drive my Volvo down main street Kennebunk with out getting pelted with rocks and crowds running off the sidewalks screaming "death to Gypsy scum!" It's dangerous t drive through Kennebunk and not be white -they pull us coloured folks out of cars if we get stopped at a red light. Kennebunk is legendary for being the most white power town in the state of Maine.

One has only to look up the international news reports of the 10 year old school children dragging their black teacher into the streets and almost beating her to death -in 2020. That happened barely a year ago. Kennebunk is the most hostile anti-black town in America and they are proud of it, brag about it, and since the BLM stuff of 2020, Kennebunk has gotten ten times worse. And, she's been seeing all that in the news and wants to live there, and I'm not sure why, because like I said,  my mom is 1/4 black, 1/4 Native American, and 1/2 Gypsy of Roumania/Arabian/Middle Eastern descent and if she tries to buy a house there, and they find out she has black blood, they'll kill her. But she's all hyped up on a white power kick and wants to join Kennebunk's anti-black movement, and... I... I just don't understand it and I'm sure if that's actual why she wants to go thee or not.

There was a court case about the cats (3 different ones because the town hall dropped the case after evidence proved the cats were not mine and my mother had snuck them in my motorhome a few days earlier to try to frame me and then some MB guy crawled out of the woodwork to reopen the case a month later), which, for some reason was in my name, not her name, because the motorhome was mine, even though the cats were hers. Weirdly, half way through the court case the town hall dropped the case and some guy named MB Bureau took over it instead. Thing is, I don't know who this MB guy is. He's not anyone I have ever even met before and he was not at the court so I didn't meet him there either. He came in with lots of wild accusations about me harassing him, even though I had no clue who he was and had never heard of him before. MB's lawyer took photo copies of a conversation on Twitter between me and JB (the guy the FBI arrested for embezzling $30k out of the OOB town hall bank account - $3million in OOB tax money went missing, the rest was never found as far as I know. The Twitter conversation was this JB sending me death threats because he had just been released from prison, and he was claiming I had put him there, even though I didn't know him or that he'd been in prison or that he had stolen money from OOB town hall. According to FBI, JB was a church friend of my mother's and he and town manager Jim Thomas, had been Bishopric counsellors to Mormon Church Bishop DK and the 3 of them and several others from the Saco LDS church had taken over the OOB town hall in around 2010 and embezzled $3million in town taxes. Apparently my Uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater, Richard Merlin Atwater, and aunt B had been involved, been involved and they had used fake social media accounts in my name to contact JB so he thought I knew him, that's why he contacted me on my real account after getting out of prison. I don't know the details I only know the small bit of info the FBI told me to let me know why this JB guy was contacting me.) For some reason, this MB guy, said the Twitter conversation with this Joel guy was about him. 

And apparently according to the FBI, this MB guy owns the old abandoned logging road across the street from me, which is numbered as 139 Portland Ave. I don't know, that road has been abandoned at least since the 1970s, I had no idea any one lived down there, but FBI says this MB guy does. I've been at 146 since 1975, and I've never see any one live there. FBI says there is another driveway on a different side that they probably use. Any ways, for some odd reason this MB guy took over the court case with the cats, only he suddenly said it was about me being transgender (but I'm not transgender, so I don't know why he said I was) His lawyer came into court saying I was a man pretending to be a woman, and here's where it got really weird, the lawyer copied what he SAID was an "About Me" page off of my website (eelkat.com) only what he copied was the about page for the main character of the novel series I write (I'm the author of 138 published novels). The series is about a male Elf who is possessed by a female parasitic alien jellyfish. So it's a female jellyfish wearing the body of a dead male Elf like a coat and passing herself off as him.

Well, this lawyer (Gene Libby) for this MB guy is waving THAT fictional character profile around in court, saying it was my personal about me page, and making the claim that I was a male to female transvestite who believed I was an Elf... and here's the kicker... his whole spiel was trying to convince the judge that I was insane so this MB guy could confiscate my land at 146 Portland Ave! It was the most bizarre thing, and the judge thought so too, because the judge tossed the whole thing out of court because the charges this MB guy had against me were so oddball off the wall nut job ridiculous. But the thing was, again, it was someone making wild claims that I had to hand them over my land, which is what keeps happening with every one of these weird attacks. And always, like both these 2 guys: JB and MB Bureau they are creepy ass strangers who crawl out of the woodwork, people I've never heard of before, making claims to being my friend (JB made the claim he was my best friend and said we talked all the time on FaceBook, but he wasn't on my FB and I'd never heard of him before. While MB Bureau in his court papers made the claim to be one of my uncles -he is not-and)

aunt B and aunt L of Bangor used to be putting stuff online about me and my brothers and JB would get it from aunt B and aunt L and forward it every where. This was in 2010 era, but I did not see the posts, because none of them is a FaceBook friend of me. The FBI however said they saw a lot of the posts, these people made, including several death threats. Seems likely something like that is happening again given the way people keep showing up here at the Biddeford apartment when no one even knew I was here.

I met aunt L about 3 times during my childhood, it's been 30+ years since I last saw her, and I've never spoken with her online or offline not once in my entire life.

aunt B I meet 10 or 12 times during my childhood, and likewise it's been 30+ years since I last saw her, except for 2 times. One in 2013 she showed up at my Biddeford apartment on Water St, with some medical scam idea she had that she wanted me to help her with. She said she was working at Blue Cross/Blue Shield and had found a way to get people's insurance money because a lot of people didn't file claims; she said she was also an EMT, and she could take the records from one job to cross with the other job, to have people's insurance money forwarded to a POBox she owned. I told her I wanted nothing to do with it and to get lost. I don't know how true any of the stuff she said was. I don't know if she worked at those places or could do the scam she was claiming or not.

aunt B showed up again in 2016, at the Gazebo Park (might be named Mechanic's Park?) on the Saco River by the water treatment plant. I was there walking my dog, and my mother showed up with an uncle Peter (now deceased) who was visiting from Utah. They were having a picnic. aunt B and Bruce showed up to trash everything, steal the food, and then leave. They were yelling and screaming the whole time. They acted drunk, except I didn't think they drank. I don't know. Mormons don't drink, not usually.

So I don't know aunt B and aunt L otherwise. I know nothing about them. Have never had contact with them, have never spoken with them online or offline. So, I'm puzzled as to why they were posting things online about me in 2010, or why they were acting like they knew me, when neither of them has ever been a part of my life or know anything about me.

But, they make claims that I say and do various things that I don't say or do. The list of things they've accused me of is massive and kind of crazy and include the claims that I am a prostitute, and that I am a Mafia gang leader ... like I said, it's just wild and also very slanderous and I'm sick of it.

Back in 2019 when my mother got her car, she had it over a month before I even knew she had gotten a car. I found out she had it when she flipped out saying I was online telling people she bought a car. And it turned out is was aunt B and Brucie online telling everyone she got a car, but I had told them,  even thought I had never talked to either of them since 2013 when FBI told me cut off all contact with them

aunt B and Bruce and aunt L all 3 are constantly telling people I said things, that I never said. 

I told you people been showing up talking about Todd and claiming I said things online about him, but I don't even know who he is or what they are talking about. It almost looks like someone is online impersonating me.

A few weeks ago an old man walked up to me, asked if I was EelKat and then asked me why I kept emailing him, and I said I don't email anyone cause I don't use email. He said some days he gets over 300 emails a day from someone claiming to be EelKat 

Last time my car had this problem was same day my father cut the internet on my mom's orders. Suspicious my car has same problem again, same day internet goes off again. It went off while my mother was here

aunt B showed up at water st day after golf club attack, but I never knew how she found out , I never told anyone online about it . Her and Bruce knew about it some how before any one else.  They wanted me to use my injury to help them run a medical scam and they were pissed when I refused to. They started spreading lies about me online because of that. That was Nov 2013

aunt B and Bruce knew about the cats and DAY BEFORE it happened. aunt B posted on my FaceBook wall "the next head nailed to the door will be yours" the day before any heads were nailed to door

I think it's aunt B online saying stuff about me and my mom, because she did it before and because FBI was here asking about her going down to Washington Jan 6 attack, but I didn't yet know the Jan 6 attack had even happened. They said aunt B aunt L and 23 cousins had been down there and they FBI was trying to find them. 

Old Orchard police and Biddeford police and a detective have all shown up asking about aunt B and aunt L and 23 cousins as well. But again I don't know anything because I not had contact with them. But FBI, 2 police departments and a detective are all saying aunt B and aunt L and 23 cousins are making claims about me, in connection to bombs and ISIS .

That's how I found out Paul Martel was in prison. According to FBI agents, Paul Martel built the bombs for the 2013 Boston marathon and the 2013 bomb at South Maine Community College and put the college bomb in my class to make it look like I made the Boston bomb. That's why the FBI showed up to begin with. They were at the college investigating both bombs that happened the same day

FBI said they believed the whole thing was aunt B and Bruce idea, but Paul martial was the one who actually built the bomb and sold it to ISIS, and put the second bomb in my class at college so Paul Martel was the only one they could arrest. FBI is trying to arrest aunt B because they think she's the one behind it. They said the whole thing seems to have started because Scott went to prison for selling drugs at Scarborough downs and for some reason aunt B thinks I'm the one who turned him in, even though I've not seen or heard from Scott since he was 8 years old

FBI thinks the attack on the cats was aunt B retaliating because Paul Martel got arrested. 

When Dickie died also in 2013, after the bomb in Boston but before the golf club attackers aunt B was with him taking charge of his medicine and his official cause of death was an overdose of his medicine, with a not saying unable to determine if accident or suicide. I found out this 2 days after he died when Jacksonville County state police from Florida showed up here in Maine to interview me about where I was the day Dickie died  because when he died aunt B called 911 and told the police I had killed him. 

The FBI thinks the golf club attack was aunt B retaliating because police didn't arrest me for murdering Dickie like she had demanded they do

FBI is full focused on arresting aunt B and Bruce. There's no evidence Bruce is dead. All evidence points to him being in New Zealand. 

FBI believes Bruce faked death because FBI was moving in to close and he didn't want to take the fall for what aunt B is doing 

In 1996 and 1997 aunt B sent out lots of emails to the family claiming the emails had been written by me. I did not have email, internet, or even a computer yet. She got Dickie and David and Joey in raving warpath over it. That's the summer they all showed up talking about Etiole and amphibious aliens and alien abduction. aunt B was the one who started all of that stuff about Etiole, who I never called Etiole. Etiole is not his name, it's always been the word the Atwaters used to describe him (it means man from the stars or alien it's a French word. I don't know French, aunt B is the one who knows French, so I never would have given him a French name) Bruce and Dickie went to a bunch on MUFON forums from 1996 to 2007 spreading lies about me and Etiole calling him a demon and alien and claiming I was an alien abducted. I found out about it in 2007 after they'd already been doing it for 11 years. I don't think aunt B has ever stopped sending out emails about Etiole while pretended to be me, I think she is still doing it.

My father was the one who told the Atwaters about Etiole. My father and Dickie both called him the white monkey. In 1994 and 1996 Bishop Morgan asked me to his office and showed me a bunch of letters, all of them signed "The White Monkey, OST". He said the letters were written to sound like I had written them but he said he'd seen my handwriting before and knew I hadn't written these. He wanted to know if I recognized the handwriting. Some had been written by daddy. Others had been written by Dickie. President Earnshaw later called me in for similar letters he had received and again the white monkey letters were written by mostly daddy and some Dickie all pretending to be me, trying to make it look like I was pretending to be Etiole. In total 16 Bishops and 2 stake presidents had contacted me over the years about white monkey letters

The white monkey letters stopped in 2007 when the psychiatrist at Biddeford hospital diagnosed daddy as having schizophrenia and put him on psychiatric medicine. Since 2007 no one has mentioned Etiole or white monkey, until the week Todd died when people started showing up in Biddeford driveway yelling about Etiole and calling him a suicide demon

The white monkey belonged to Helen pearly and has nothing to do with Etiole at all. In 1978 Helen pearly had a pet white monkey that got lost. Me and cousin Micheal saw it in the woods out back and tried to catch it. We found Etiole the same day. Etiole is a homeless man who lives behind my land in the woods. Me and Micheal took him food. For some reason because we found him while looking for Helen pearly white monkey my father and the Atwaters got it in their heads that Etiole was a demon alien shape shifter who turned into a white monkey to lure me and Micheal into the woods. And that's how their stupid ass alien and demon rumours got started.

I used to let him sleep in the Dodge at night, that's why people started saying the car was haunted. They said Etiole was a demon and the car was demon possessed. My father and Bruce used to stay up all night debating what kind of demon Etiole must be and kept calling me a demon child and a witch and saying I was demon possessed and they called Etiole my familiar and said I summoned him to cast curses and death spells. Bruce believed all that stuff as actual fact and after Bruce left for the night my dad would joke about how gullible Bruce was and how easy it was to convince him demons lived in my car. From there the rumours ended up on the internet through the Heaven's Gate group, that Bruce was a member of at the time. They were a group of around 200 people who went from one UFO forum to the next spreading rumours about me and Etiole. They did that for 11 years before I found out Bruce and his UFO friends were doing it. 

I found out when people started showing up in Old Orchard with beeping equipment claiming they were here the capture Etiole while calling him an amphibious alien and EBE and calling me "EelKat Etiole's friend" I did not use the username EelKat online and none of my books about EelKat (the black bobcat) had ever been published so there was no reason for internet people to know either the name EelKat or Etiole.  I was using the username xavychup online not EelKat, that's why my email address is xavychup not EelKat. EelKat is something Grammy called me back in the 1970s because she said eels and cats were my spirit animals. I never called myself EelKat online or offline so only the Atwaters had ever heard that word before and yet in 2007, I spent the entire summer with endless people showing up in my yard at my tent and all calling me EelKat and all looking for Etiole. 

Because I was living under the tarp I had no access to internet yet so had no clue what was going on online. I went to the library and searched Etiole and EelKat to see what came up and I found tens of thousands of forum posts and interviews and articles all written by Bruce and Dickie, including interviews with Buddy Hopkins, David Mack, and David Icke. All the stuff they said was how they had this demon possessed niece who had been abducted by aliens and has brought an alien back from the mother ship with her and was now protecting him. Every one of the forum posts. Interviews and articles had my full name, my old Orchard address, my email, and my old Orchard phone number listed. That was why so many people were showing up at the tent. In 2006 to 2009. The whole thing of people calling me a Witch and saying about curses and death spells and aliens and demons was started by daddy saying that stuff to Bruce and then Bruce and Dickie spreading it online for 11 years from 1996 to 2007

I started using the name EelKat online BECAUSE my uncles had spent 11 years calling me that on MUFON forums, and when I found out about it and started contacting all the forum admins, I had to tell every one:

"I'm Wendy Christine Allen. I'm the one you all call EelKat, Etiole's friend, the REAL EelKat, friend of the REAL Etiole,  and I'm here to slap every damned one of you with protection from harassment orders. I'm tired of the slander and lies you people are spreading about me of fucking UFO websites. I'm not an alien abductee, I've never claimed to be, until this morning I didn't even know what an alien abductee was. Etiole is not an alien. Etiole is not a demon. He's a local homeless man who has a skin deformity, so he hides in the forest because people are scared of him because of what he looks like, and they beat him up and bully him. The people telling you he's an alien are my uncles, who the ring leaders behind beating him up and bullying him, and I'm quite upset to find out they've been doing it online for quite some time and I'm only just finding out about it now, because earlier this week, I had 30,000 people in my driveway, trying to catch him while screaming that he was an amphibious alien and EBE. You UFO crazies are insane, and I want you people out of my yard. My uncles are lying to you about me and Etiole and you'll idiots for believing them."

I created an EelKat username EVERYWHERE just so I could post that message to every place my uncles had posted that fucking ass alien abduction shit about me and Etiole. THAT, is why you saw me start to use the EelKat username in 2007, when I was always xavychup everywhere before that.

And that is also why I do NOT have an EelKat email.  I've had the xavychup email since 1994, I still have it. And anyone using an eelkat email to contact you isn't me, because I don't have an eelkat email. It always has been and still is xavychup.

Last I knew aunt B and Bruce and aunt L and Bruce's daughters and David's kids and grandchildren were all still continuing to spread demon and alien lies about me and Etiole and were still putting my real name and address on everything. In 2019 they were putting my old Orchard address my high street address and also my water st address even though I was no longer at water street on thousands of forum posts and Facebook posts. In 2019 they were making several hundred posts daily across all there accounts and I found 27 fake EelKat accounts owned just by Bruce himself alone. They were all things like eeelkat, ee1kat, 33lkat, etc. Slightly spell different to look like it was me, yo someone looking quick and not paying attention.  They are likely still doing it and I assume they are doing the same to my mother as well. 

Also I don't even know what mothers address is. How could I put it anywhere? I didn't even know she moved until last summer and apparently she moved a few years ago. No one ever told me she had moved. 

Just like the saying about me saying she got a car. I didn't know about the white car until she came over in it to see Mickey last may and apparently she had a few cars in between. Last car I knew was the black one. I didn't even know she had a new car, let alone more than one.

No one ever told me those things, not her or any one else so it's utterly stupid for her to think I could put her address or cars online. Only people who knew about her address and cars could put them online.

Don't forget she never even told me when Dickie or Bruce died. Both times I found out from the FBI showing up to investigate accusations that I had murdered them

I'm the bed ridden, crippled by multiple attacks. The November 14, 2013 golf club attack, I was almost healed from, but the June 2016 shopping cart attack re opened the 2013 injury and doctors can't operate this time because of the bone shards severing my spinal column. I'm crippled for the rest of my life and no one in this family ever cared. 

Both attacks the FBI wanted to talk to my parents and they refused to talk to him both times. My baby was murdered in the first attack. I was 8 months pregnant and all any of them would do was gibberish about "rosemary baby" and say there was no baby because it was a demon because it was Etiole's. My parents and the Atwaters hate Etiole that much, that they shun the existence of my baby and act like it was never there. That's how much they hate me. That's how cruel and hate filled they are towards me. They spent the last 50 years calling me demon possessed and them saying that is WHY local people attack me and killed my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. 

I am in bed 15 or more hours a day, I can barely sit up, I can barely stand up long enough to cook, I have to wear adult diapers since 2013 because half my organs don't work any more because the nerves from those organs to my spine are cut off. My hands shake so bad that it takes me hours to eat a single meal. I can't go back to college, I can't go back to work. But do they care? No. Not my mother. Not my father. Neither of them give a shit. They are both too damned selfish thinking about their own greed to ever once lift a finger to help me. Daddy treats me like a fucking slave and my mother is so far out of my life shunning me because bishop kenning in Saco ward told her too that she hasn't got a clue how bad things are.

I'm not doing a damned thing to any of them. I mind my own business. I write my novels. I don't contact them. I don't talk to them. I don't talk about them.  Someone is clearly pretending to be me online and is slandering me and getting sick of it. My mother flips out about everything thing under the sun and I never have a clue what she's talking about, because I never did or said any of the things she accuses me of. And my father and the Atwaters do the same thing. Some one is out there pretending to be me to get them worked into a frenzy just to sit back and laugh while watching my mother, my father, and the Atwaters be too damned stupid to think. My mother and my father and the Atwaters are all filled with so much pure hatred for me that it takes nothing to convince them to attack me. And whoever it is posting online pretending to be me, knows that and is taking advantage of it. 

I'm too damned sick and crippled to even attempt to do half the crazy shit my mother and my father are accusing me of. And what's worse, my father is right here in the same apartment with me. He sees me every day, he knows how bad off my health is. 

Look how much I'm bleeding all over the house every day. Massive nose bleeds that last for hours to a time, not bleeding from my nose. Just coming out of my nose. I'm so dizzy I can't sit up for weeks to a time. I faint and blackout when I try to get up to go to the bathroom. The pain in my hip and pelvis and knee and spine is so bad I can't even move my fingers to type my novels. 

And look at what they do. Do they really think I'm physically capable of doing the things they accuse me of? They are so damned self centred and paranoid. It's all I can do just to sit up and eat something, how the hell do they think I can do the stuff they accuse me of? My day is spent focusing on trying to get my leg to move so I can make a meal, I don't even have time to think about them. 

It looks more and like my mother and my father are doing this stuff on purpose to try to kill me. My father knows how bad off my heart and lungs are and how difficult it is for me to breath after just a couple of steps. His mother left that land to me in her will in 1983. He stole it, had it put into his name illegally. He's been pissed ever since her death, because she gave everything to me not him. That's been a big problem for him for the last 40 years. He raves about it alongside his ravings about going to Utah taking him off the fire department. He hates my mother because of Utah, blames her every day for losing his fire department pension. He raves about it all night long every single night. He blames me for his mother disinheriting him. He raves about that all the time too. I was only grandchild That's why she left everything to me. Including the land that he stole and put in his name. That land is rightfully mine, his mother gave it to me, and he can't stand it. He's needling my mother about the land just to spite his mother.

He's only trying to get the land away from me because he is mad that the town didn't take it. His mother wanted it to stay in the family. It had been in her family since 1530. Her family was the original settlement family of old Orchard and my land is that spot that the first house in Old Orchard was built.  My father stopped paying taxes to spite his mother and lose the land. He said so many times. He was angry when I bought the land back from the town. He still is. He wants it out of the family because his mother wanted it in the family. That's why he's trying to turn my mother against me over the land. Because he gates his own mother that much.

Keep in mind the 4 door white truck showed up at my workplace daily. Even though I never knew ahead of time what store I would be working at. I was a retail merchandiser and stocked shelves at dozens of stores all over the state. Walmart's every where, CVS, khols, sometimes local, sometimes as far as Freeport and once in Vermont and once in Massachusetts.  I got the notice of which store to be at 15 minutes before I left. So the only person who ever knew where I was going was my father. 

And yet the 4 door white truck would also arrive ahead of me and be waiting. They didn't follow me, they got their first.

And the police caught the truck and the driver in 2017. Kathy BR owned the truck. Her son was the driver.

The smith's are my parents friends. My mother's visiting and home teachers for years.

Kathy was the district emergency dispatch for all the towns in the area, not just old Orchard. That's why none of the 911 calls went through during the attacks by the 4 door white truck. He only attacked while she was on duty. She never forwarded any of the calls so officers never were told to come help me.

That includes the November 14, 2013 golf club attack in South Portland. But the college security officer made a report even though the police never arrived. That big black officer who was head of security was on duty and him and 2 student officers from the police academy made the report.

And FBI found the data from the calls, that never got forwarded to police, that's why Kathy BR lost her job. Because she's the one who tampered with the 911 call files.

Tim and Kathy BR both, not together, individually, arriving separately, both arrived at my tent multiple times throughout the entire year of 2013, saying they were coming to speak to me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous. So I never knew who sent them. Each time they arrived all they would say was that I had to tear down "the little yellow house" as they called the shop. 

August 8, 2013 the backhoe drove over the shop while I was at work on the food truck down by the pier.

I never saw Tim or Kathy again after that. Not once. And these were people who stopped by to visit my parents daily for over 40 years. Since August 8, 2013 and the backhoe attack on my house, Kathy and Tim have gone to alarming extreme levels to avoid running into me. They just down the street, on one of the private drives, so it's difficult to avoid running into me, and we used to see them a few times a week at local grocery stores. They both, if they see me in a store, literally throw whatever they are carrying across the store and run out of the store like they have a pack of rabid wolves on their heels. It's pretty fascinating thing to see.

My cousin and next door neighbour Tim Murphy was murdered that same week, a few days before the backhoe. His body was left at the cascade Ross road crossroad. 14 days later his head was left at the Portland Ave Ross road crossroad road. His mother put up the big white cross a month later. 

The 4 door white truck showed up a few days later. 

Tim Murphy had an identical truck. The police and FBI initially thought it was his, but his truck was later found.

Tim Murphy owned Etiole's swamp and was the one buying most of the food and supplies for Etiole. 

Tim Murphy was with me and Micheal the day we tried to catch Helen pearly white monkey and found Etiole. 

The FBI believes that Tim Murphy was killed by someone trying to frame Etiole and believes the murder was a retaliation over Tim Murphy refusing to sell the swamp land behind me. 

At the time the FBI was looking at DF Feeney as a suspect but DF Feeney's family was killed in a murder suicide and he too is now seen as someone who was being framed.

The swamp, sandpit, and pond behind me, the Murphys own that, and 3 people in their family have now died horrifically violent deaths because they, like me were protecting Etiole from the people who would kill him because they believed Bruce's demon and alien lies about Etiole. 

Look at what is being done to me. They drove a backhoe over my house and they murdered my baby and they crippled me, all days apart.

Look at what is being done to the Murphys. And they're massacring the Murphy family. Tim's death the same time as the attack on me.

And look at who screams the loudest hate for Etiole. Look WHO calls him a demon.

And look at WHO the FBI's number one suspect in all of this is.

My family laughs and jokes about this whole thing like they think it's a fucking game. People are dying and the FBI is not laughing. 

Look at WHO keeps attacking my car. Look at WHO keeps cutting the wires off the apartment. Vandalism. Harassment. Bullying. Threats. Evil people Evil things. By their fruits yea shall no them, for no good thing springs from dead wood. Those are small petty crimes, but they are still crimes. But it's far beyond petty crimes. The list of people who have been murdered is quite long now. 13 died just at the Boston marathon bombing. I'm crippled for the rest of my life, and so far, I'm the only person who was attacked who lived through an attack. Every one else they've attacked is dead. Most of them beheaded or killed in a bomb. 7 different bombs, including one in my classroom at college in 2013, two in my workplace in 2015 and 2016, the house in Old Orchard in 2006, and my doctor on Saco Ave in 2003 where the doctor the nurses and 21 patients were killed. And the FBI was on site for every one of them, and my family thinks it's funny to laugh and make jokes about all of it. Because that's they do since the day me and Micheal and Tim Murphy found Etiole

Do you realize for all the shit my parents have pulled,  they've never once apologized for anything. And you know why? Because they aren't sorry. They feel no guilt. They feel no shame. They feel no remorse. Why? Because they hate me. They always have. From the time I was old enough to walk both of them reminded me daily that I was supposed to be a boy to replace the baby boy that was born before me. That's why Grammy Helen was the one who was always with me until I was 8. And after that it was Grammy Eva. And then BW. 

Do you know how I found out Santa wasn't real? Grammy Helen died when I was 8. That year for Christmas there were no Christmas presents. There was just my parents arguing over which one of them should have lowered themselves to buy a gift for the mistake that committed the sin of not being born a boy. I remember that Christmas better than any other. Because that's when found out exactly how much my parents hated me and thought I was worthless because I was a girl.

Look at my MRI scans at the damage the foundation nail through my hip did. The mutilated bones that were shattered when I was 6 years old and no one took me to the hospital. I've walked on a broken leg for almost 50 years. 

Look at the jaw surgery I had to have when I was 42 to repair an injury done to me with a brick when I was 14. 

Look at the Gremlin, 1974 orange, obliterated by a sledgehammer. 

Look at what happened when I was awarded phi theta kappa. No one went to the award ceremony. My mother said it was stupid. My father spent the day raving calling me an educated damned fool. BW was at the temple with Rick. And people with golf clubs were waiting at my car.

Do you realize if just one single person had cared enough to be at the phi theta kappa awards my baby might not have been murdered and I might not be crippled now. 

Grammy Helen would beat my dad's ass for the shit he does to me. And Grammy Eva would be ashamed of the stuff my mother does. Neither Helen or Eva would have let them get away with the constant abuse and harassment.

As for what happened to my car March 9, 2022 - KRA vandalized my car and tried to make it look like my brother did it. KRA stuffed the tailpipe full of McDonald's ketchup packets, which is what caused the fuel line to blow up. I could have died. He tried to kill me and make it look like my brother who works at McDonald's did it so my brother would be blamed.

KRA did the same thing in November, because of some guy named Todd who I supposedly convinced to kill himself via may painting a "suicide demon" on my car. There is a picture of Etiole on my car, that is what they are calling "a suicide demon"



UPDATE: February 27, 2022:

Do not underestimate either my willingness or how far I will go to protect my murdered son's grave from being destroyed by the bastards who are the @FBI s number one suspects in having killed him. The ONLY reason that bitch is hell bent on digging up my farm is because she wants to destroy the evidence of my baby having been murdered by golf clubs.

I'm sick of my mother and my mothers shit head Atwater relatives. They won't stop focusing on the cats. They are lost in a delusional refusal to face reality and that is impeding the fbi investigation of the murder of my baby and the crippling of my spine, because all either of them will do is say there was no baby and tell everyone lies about me and I don't like it. My baby is dead and that has nothing to do with the cats and I'm sick of my mother and her filthy Atwater thugs both ignoring what happened at the college 2 years before the cat event happened AND daily arriving to bully me and say it was “RoseMary’s Baby” and not a real baby because it was a demon, because Etiole was a from.

 

Etiole is not a demon, my baby with him was not a demon, you murdered my fucking baby because you are retarded religion crazed jackasses. Get the fuck out of my life and go burn were evil people like you belong!

 

I'm tired of every time I mention the baby that was murdered November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College,  they wave their hand in my face and say, "no you're just upset about the cats". The cats happened May 14, 2015 and those cats were not mine, they were my mother's cats, that she hid in my motorhome because her landlord Nick didn’t know she had 13 cats in her Birch St apartment. And he evicted her a year later when he found out the cats were hers.

That's why SHE is the one making a fuss about them, not me. I'm not the one running around yapping about the cats constantly,  she is. I'm talking about my son. 

 

My baby boy that was murdered by 3 attackers wielding golf clubs in the SMCC parking lot. A blond woman whom the redhaired woman called Claire, a redhaired woman who the blond woman called Kendra, both in their 60sish, and a bald man in his 30ish.

 

I'm not talking about my mother's cats, I'm talking about my child. What the fuck is wrong with these people? 

 

As for my car … did you all forget when and why I painted it? May 12, 2014. Mother's day. The first mother day after my baby was murdered. I painted my Volo on mother's day to divert my mind from killing myself. That's why I painted my car 9 years ago and you all know that, I've said as much hundreds of times.

Ty Mother and the Atwaters are refusing to acknowledge the baby because also refuse to acknowledge Etiole, a local homeless Jewish man who is the baby's father. 

My Mother and the Atwaters are so damned bigoted and religion crazed that all they’ve ever done is call Etiole a demon or an alien, since the first day they ever saw him: September 23, 1978.

It’s been almost 50fucking years that they’ve harassed him because of what he looks like and harassed me because I won’t let them beat him to death. 

They fully 100% believe he is not human and they run around slandering him every chance they can get and they’ve been doing it for 50 fucking years now. 

And THAT is the ONLY reason, they are doing what they are doing right now. 

 

They have NO RIGHT to be on my land. They are fucking trespassing.

Because they are so damned brainwashed by their fucking religions, that they can’t stop believing anyone who is physically deformed MUST be a Demon.

 

And they’ve spent the last 9 years daily hounding me and whooping and cheering joyous celebration over “killing the demon” as they refer to my baby.

 

In you hadn’t watched the local news - January 2022 - there was a massive FBI raid on Main Street and Cutts Street Biddeford, Maine. 8 of the men who have been roaming Southern Maine beating up pregnant women with golf clubs, were arrested and are now in jail where they belong, soon to be moved to federal prison.

And THAT is what has got the Atwaters in a frenzy now, digging up my land in Old Orchard Beach. They are desperately trying to find my dead baby’s unmarked grave, because they know his gold club shattered skull is very damning evidence for them, now that the FBI made a move and started arresting a bunch of their thugs.

 

And those arrested that just happened, they happened because the FBI phone number was painted on my car and locals in Biddeford, came forward with witness testimony of the attacks.

 

What my mother and the Atwaters are doing is cruel and evil and hateful, and I’m sick of it.

They don’t care about or my life, and my baby or his life. As can be seen by the fact of how he died.

The FBI is still trying to ID the bond Claire woman and the redhaired Kendra woman. They caught the bald man with the 4 door white pick up truck, we now know who he is - the son of the Old Orchard Beach police dispatch woman, the woman who would never let any 911 calls begging for help while these attacks were happening, go through.

Don't be surprised if you see the signs - all 144 of them - go back up in my driveway. Because I'm fucking sick of being harassed, and the agreement to keep the signs down, specified that EVERYONE in Old Orchard Beach - ALL RESIDENTS would NEVER HARASS ME again. You people have broken your agreement. I'm painting new signs as we speak.

EVERYONE - includes real estate agents, developers, contractors, construction workers, and any Atwater bitch who thinks they have the right to daily show up at my Biddeford apartment to say: "What are we going to do about Wendy, she can't keep that land, I need a downpayment on a house, she is going to sell her land and give me the money or else!"

Burn in hell you fucking bitch, and take all your fucking Atwater shitheads with you.

There are more then 500 graves on my farm - more than half of them Native American, some of them buried as far back as the 1400s. I WILL NOT let you touch those graves. I take my job as the guardian of these graves VERY SERIOUSLY. And you WILL have an all out war on your hands if you dare touch them.

Now she's threatening to dig up the graves on my land.

My dead baby means a hell of a lot more to me, then her fucking house. She never gave a damn when my baby died, but look at what she did when the cats died. Her priorities are fucked up.

My dead baby means a hell of a lot more to me, then her fucking house. She never gave a damn when my baby was murdered. But look at what she did when the murderers returned and killed the cats!

Look at what she is STILL doing about the fucking cats!

That's all she cares about. Those damned dead cats and her glut lust to have a mansion in KennebunkPort.

Her priorities are fucked up.

She doesn't give a damn about Human life.

And you know what's worse, the FBI thinks she, her sister Barbara, her brother Bruce, and their friends Claire and Kendra, where the people wearing the fake KuKluxKlan robes and hoods on November 14, 2013, when they used golf clubs to beat my baby to death and break my spine leaving me crippled for the rest of my life. 

Her, Barbara, Bruce, Claire, and Kendra - those are the FBI’s #1 suspects in the murder of my baby, November 14, 2013.

And what the hell is with people mixing up me and my mother? 

I'm NOT the one hell bent on a house. I have been willfully homeless for decades I have no desire for the confines of a house. The one running around yapping hysterics about a house IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about cats. The one running around yapping hysterics about cats IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Todd, I don't even know who Todd is! I don't know any one named Todd! The one running around yapping hysterics about Todd IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Mark and Dan and Watson, I don't even know who Mark and Dan and Watson are! I don't know anyone named Mark or Watson and the only Dan I know is my cousin and it's clearly not him she's talking about. The one running around yapping hysterics about Mark and Dan and Watson IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one putting curses on people. I don't believe in curses. The one running around yapping hysterics about curses and claiming she's casting death spells on people IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about demons. I don't believe in demons. The one running around yapping hysterics about demons and calling Etiole a demon IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one calling Etiole a demons. I don't believe in demons. Etiole is a local homeless man and Etiole isn't even his name, I don't use his real name online to protect his identity. I'm not the one who calls him Etiole either. Etiole is the name the Atwaters call him. The one running around yapping hysterics about demons and calling Etiole a demon IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about aliens or UFOs or alien abduction. I don't believe in aliens or UFOs or alien abduction. The one running around yapping hysterics about aliens or UFOs or alien abduction IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one calling Etiole an alien. I don't believe in aliens and besides that, Etiole is a local homeless man. The one running around yapping hysterics and calling Etiole an alien IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Voodoo dolls and Voodoo curses. Voodoo has nothing to do with Voodoo dolls and curses. Voodoo dolls and curses are mumbo-jumbo made up by Hollywood movies and have nothing to do with the Voodoo religion at all. Voodoo is a branch of the Catholic Church. Look it up. Voodoo is a Christian religion. A Voodoo Priest is a type of Catholic Monk. A Voodoo Priestess is a type of Catholic Nun. Voodoo does not cast curses or use voodoo dolls. The one running around yapping hysterics about Voodoo dolls and Voodoo curses IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

Open your eyes people. Me and my mother don't look that much alike. You should be able to tell the difference between me and her.

Stop showing up in my yard to to attack me because of some fucking shit you argued with my mother about.

If you've got a problem with my mother, take it up with her not me.

Her, Barbara, Bruce, Claire, and Kendra - those are the FBI’s #1 suspects in the murder of my baby, November 14, 2013.

No, I have no updates on Etiole.

He was shot, by a local lunatic.

No, he's not okay.

And I am getting sick of this fucking ass rumour of Etiole being an alien or a demon.

The fact of Etiole being an alien is a stupid urban myth started by some crazy ass locals.

The fact of Etiole being a demon is a stupid urban legend created by some religion crazed nuts.

Etiole is an old man covered with acid burns. His skin is white and face disfigured from acid burns. He's not an alien and he's not a demon. And you people who call him an alien and call him a demon, you're all fucking crazy. 

Etiole is a homeless Jewish man who has no skin because he was tortured in a Nazi concentration camp in France during WW2. He came to Maine in 1953 with a bunch of other refugees, He has post traumatic stress disorder really bad and he's terrified of people. He can't function in normal society, so hides in the forests. He's not an alien, he's not a demon, he's not a cryptid. He's a disfigured old man, now in late 90s. He barely get around. He doesn't you people harassing him like this. Why can't you people leave him alone? Why are you all so damned desperate to believe in aliens or demons that you have to harass a helpless old man? Leave him alone. Why can't you leave him alone? What is wrong with you people?

Read The Amphibious Aliens article, https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html where way back in 2007, I DEBUNKED every one of you stupid ass alien, cryptic, demon, and haunted car rumours. Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World's Most Haunted Car, goes over every event from the 1970s, that started the fucking rumour, and lists off how every alien, demon, and haunted car rumour was proven to be nothing but a hoax started by my mother's brother  Mervin Bruce Atwater. Every single one of those rumours was started by that one man, and were proven to ALL be hoaxes he perpetrated to try to get money out of Dr Larochelle, the man who hit Mervin's younger sister with a car. They tried to convince the old doctor his car had a demon living in it and they scammed the doctor out of $20,000 back in the 1970s. THAT is how and why the demon car rumour got started. I bought the car in 1975. Etiole started living in it in 1978. And that is how me and Etiole got dragged into the fucking ass rumours about a demon car.

The article Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World's Most Haunted Car DEBUNKS ALL of the alien, cryptid, demon, and haunted car rumours. Every last one of them.

The car is not haunted and Etiole is not a demon.

You people who believe my car is haunted or think that Etiole is a demon, you are all fucking retarded.

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I'm sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I'm sick of you people harassing me and Etiole over stupid shit started by brain dead idiots.

If you are having problems with my mother, tell FBI agent Andy Drewer about it not me. Have information, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about the murder of my baby, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about any of the attacks on my family, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about the people who shot Etiole, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

If you have information about anything, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 and give it to him, not me.

https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html





UPDATE March 8, 2022

One sign is back up. 

How many more go up, is dependent upon YOU.

From now on, every time one of you Old Orchard Beach, Pine Point, or Biddeford shitheads decides to harass me, I'm going to put up another sign.

If you want no more, then you better make dammed sure you keep your friends and family and neighbors out of my yard and out of my life. I'm not selling my land, and I'll not let you dig up those graves.

Burn in hell.

No means no.

And I'm tired of saying no.

Just like rapist, you refuse to take no for an answer.

No. I'm not selling my land and giving you the money so you can buy a house in Kennebunk.

I've said no to you every single week since August 2021. And your current threats to dig up the graves on my land and move them to your land, is why the signs are going back up.

I'm tired of you bullying me.

I'm tired of your threats.

I'm tired of your gaslighting.

I'm tired of your lies.

You keep saying "After all I've done for you!" What have you done for me? When I was 8 years old you locked me in a racoon trap and left me there for 27 years, only letting me out on Sundays so you could parade me around in the Cape Elizabeth and Saco Ward Mormon churches to pedophile priests who paid you so they could rape me. That's why you never had a job until 5 years ago, because you made plenty selling your pre-teen daughter for sex to dirty old men.

You drove a foundation nail through my hip when I was 6 years old.

From the tie I was 14 until I was 42 years old I was near mute, because you broke my jaw with a brick. I was 42 when I had surgery to rebuild my jaw, that's why I can talk today.

You never allowed me or my bothers to go to school or doctors.

YOU took a sledge hammer to my 1974 AMC Gremlin, my 1976 AMC Gremlin, my 1976 AMC Hornet, my Olds station wagon, and you took a chain saw to my 1964 Dodge 330 the worlds most haunted car, the real Christine. YOU did that.

Since 1978 you have harassed me and me boyfriend, the one you call Etiole, because YOU believe he's a demon because of his skin deformities. You and your sister and your brothers contacted MUFON and told them lies about me and Etiole both. You called him the amphibious alien and claimed he had abducted me. Your alien abduction hoax, almost got him killed in 1997 and again in 2007 when ufo crazies arrived in my yard calling him an EBE and trying to shoot him "for science". An elderly man, a French, Jewish Nazis concentration camp survivor who lives in the forest because his PTSD and fear of people is so bad. A man who is scarred with acid burns from being tortured in WW2 and is neither a demon nor an alien and who deeply traumatized by YOUR endless harassment.

It was YOUR friends who drove a backhoe over my house August 8, 2013 because YOU paid them $600 to do so. Because you thought without a house I would sell my land. But I wasn't the one living in that house. My dad lived there. All you did was put him in a Biddeford apartment. I was already living in the tent since May 9, 2006, and I had the Biddeford apartment since February 13, 2007. 

It was YOUR friends who attacked me with golf clubs at Southern Maine Community College, November 14, 2013, while I was 8 months pregnant with Etiole's baby. That they murdered, on YOUR orders, because as YOU put it "It's RoseMary's Baby" while you gibbered about some horror movie about demon babies.

That was YOUR own grandchild that YOU hired those people to kill.

April 10, 2015, YOU broke into my motorhome, put YOUR 13 cats in it, them then brought YOUR friends to attack my family.

We now know the owner of the 4-door white truck, was YOUR visiting teach, Kathy, the driver who tried to kill me, was her son, and the reason the 911 calls didn't go through during each attack, was because she was the 911 dispatcher and her son, driving her 4door white pick up truck, only attacked me she was on duty. They were YOUR friends from the Saco Ward church, YOUR church, attacking YOUR daughter on YOUR orders.

Since August 2021, you arrive at my apartment 3 times a week, to tell me I need to put curses on people at your workplace, citing that I have to, because you're my mother and I'm demon possessed and I should be putting my demons to good use by helping you kill three people you don't like at work.

I'm sick of you calling me demon possessed.

I'm sick of you demanding curses.

You have a severe mental problem and you need psychiatric help.

I'm sick of you spreading slanderous lies about me telling every one around town I cast curses and death spells, when I've never done either.

November 19, 2021, YOU friend Todd commit suicide and YOU told YOUR friends, that me and Etiole used suicide demons to drive him in front of a train.

YOUR friend Todd, who I did NOT know and had never heard of until 6 of YOUR friends showed up at Rotary Park November 21, 2021 to gun down Etiole while screaming that they were "killing the suicide demon", while we were walking my dog.

Something YOU now brag that YOU tricked YOUR friends into do, because you needed to get Etiole off my land in order to convince me to sell it and give YOU the money for a down payment on a house in Kennebunk.

Christmas Eve 2021, you arrived at MY apartment in Biddeford, STOLE my father's psychiatric medicine, medicine he needs to keep him NOT violent, because he has extremely violent schizophrenia and one hell of a criminal record that requires him to never be in the same room with a gun, let alone never have one. He was committed to a mental ward in 2007, and they ONLY let him out because he came to Biddeford to live with ME in MY apartment, and I was monitoring his meds.

After YOU stole his medicine, you took him with you daily to Kennebunk, to a mansion by Bush's house, to daily tell him, you would give him that house if he forced me to sell my land and give you the money from my land to buy that Kennebunk house.

Tell, me, what of THOSE things, is YOU doing anything FOR me?

No, means, no.

I'm done saying NO to you.

You are nothing but a land rapist.

Just like a rapist you refuse to accept No for an answer.

Every week since August 2021, I've said no to you.

No, I will not sell my land and hand you the money so you can buy a house in Kennebunk.

No, means no.

And no, I'm not happy with the fact that because I won't sell my land and give you the money, you are now threatening to dig up the graves on my land and move them to your land.

No, I'm not happy with you saying "You don't need the land, you don't use it, I need a house in Kennebunk, you ought to want to sell your land and give me the money!"

Yes, I do use my land.

Yes, I did see the car YOU dumped behind my motorhome. You have till the end of summer to get it off my land or the police are taking it.

What I do with my land is none of your damned business.

And for your information, my land is where I write my novels. I sit on the hill, and I write every day, all summer long. The only reason I didn't in 2021 is because I had Covid for 3 months.

No, telling me that my grandmother's evil spirit is haunting my land. also does not inspire me to want to sell it.

YOU are an evil, hate fill, mean, cruel, sadistic, child abusing, vindictive sociopath.

Get psychiatric help.

You need it.

What you are doing is wrong and you know it. You won't be so upset about what is painted on my car, if you didn't know it.

You can't hide from the truth forever. 

You can't hide your sins, your crimes, your cruelties forever.

Good things will never come to you, until you stop doing evil things to those around you.


Don't forget, my camera runs 24/7 and it's a simple matter of my uploading the video footage of you doing and saying things thing. Plus a lot of it, you said and did while I was livestreaming so people online have already seen and heard you say and do these things.

Yes, I even have video footage of the 4 bicycle brats who chased the homeless man into the train November 2021.

EVERYTHING, I have said here I have video footage of. That is WHY the FBI have been able to arrest so many people these past few months, in Biddeford.

Cutting the wires off our house November 2021 - you did on a livestream. People saw you do it WHILE you were doing it. 

All 2 of the FedEx workers you demanded death curses for - you did on a livestream.

Stealing my dad's meds - you did on a livestream.

Saying "What are we going to do about Wendy, she can't keep that land, I need a house" - you did on a livestream.

Threatening to dig up the graves on my land - you did on a livestream.

All that n-word stuff you said about the black men at your workplace - you did on a livestream.

People been seeing and hearing you live. They've already seen and heard a lot.

How do you plan to explain away all the hundreds of hours of video footage I have of you breaking into my bedroom during a live stream to threaten me, my family, my land?












To the people who asked about weird emails that you claim you got from someone claiming to be me, here are a few things to consider:

#1: I DO NOT use email and I NEVER have. if you get a letter from me it is going to be written in ink on paper, and in a stamped envelope the mail truck delivered to your mailbox at the end of your driveway. Since 1997 my aunt Barbara has been sending emails out to people CLAIMING they were from me, so in all likelihood whatever you got was actually from her. Her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater did the same thing throughout the early 2000s. And 57 of their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren have done it at well. No, I’m not special. They do this to THOUSANDS of people. They run a medical scam and pretend to be LOTS of big name famous authors, hoping you’ll click whatever link they put in the email, because the link is going to open a .exe phishing program to steal your credit card data and medical records. The FBI is currently investigating their medical fraud, email fraud, scam operation, so if you ARE getting emails claiming to be from me, PLEASE print up the email ad take it to the FBI office on Middle Street in Portland, Maine. FBI Agent Andy Drewer is in charge of not only the investigation of the 2015 murder of my family, but he is also in charge of the email impersonation fraud, and the stalker doing the email fraud.

#2: As you have stated, the topic of the emails is Etiole... do know that I have NEVER talked about Etiole, with ANYONE, online or offline. Unlike my mother, and her sister, my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, I happen to respect people’s privacy. As I have said before: Etiole is a Jewish, French, Nazi concentration camp refugee who came to Maine in 1953 with a boatload of about 300 other concentration camp survivors. He is covered with acid burns, so his skin looks ghastly white and horrifically disfigured, which is why he lives in the swamps around the Saco River. he is now in his 90s and is still as homeless as he was in the 1950s. He has severe posttraumatic stress disorder, can not speak/is mute, does not have the mental capacity to function in normal society on any level what so ever, and me and a few others have been taking care of him, giving him food and clothing and supplies and medical attention since 1978. There is nothing else you need to know. You do not need to know where he is or how to find him. If you want to see him, go to y livestream/video archive and watch the VOD where I visited him on livestream so you could see what he looked liked and how crippling his metal condition really is.

#3: I feel I shouldn’t have to say this, but apparently I do NEED to say this: Etiole is NOT an alien, nor is he a demon. The article Amphibious Aliens is free to read online. It goes over all the details of both the alien rumours and the demon rumours and debunks them all, while proving all the proof, including medical records and documentation of the people behind the rumour.

#4: The ONLY person who ever claimed I was abducted by aliens was my uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater, who was the leader of the Mane division of Heaven’s Gate for over 40 years. Heaven’s Gate if you do not know, was the UFO suicide cult who murdered 39 people with poisoned Kool-Aid in California in 1997, because Comet HaleBop flew over that night.

#5: I found out about my so-called alien abduction in 2007, when a MUFON tour group showed up in my yard asking to interview me. They carried with them more than a dozen books by various UFO/alien experts and over 100 newspaper articles, all featuring interviews with my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, interviews all from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s, all of them telling of how I was supposedly a demon possessed child, whose best friend was an alien named Etiole. It was 2007, and it was the first time I had ever heard the term “alien abduction” I didn’t even know what it was. The MUFON group - a group of 30,000 people - standing in my driveway 2007 all wanted to interview me as they pointed out NONE of the 30+ years of several hundred interviews with my aunts and uncles, not ONE of the interviews was WITH ME. This was the source of the April 2007 article titled Amphibious Aliens, where I shocked the MUFON world with the revelation that I was NOT an alien abductee, nor had I ever claimed to be one. It also infuriated me to find out that my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater had been running around telling people about Etiole, as I had never told ANYONE - NOT EVEN THEM - about Etiole. It turns out my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater go their alien and demon stories about Etiole from my mother and THIS is WHY I disowned my mother, shun her, and have had nothing to do with her, or her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, since 2007. The slanderous alien and demon, gossip, rumours, and lies my mother and her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater spread about me and Etiole are deplorable and I HATE my mother and her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, and I hope they burn in hell for the alien and demon shit they pulled on me and my homeless boyfriend.

#6: That same Amphibious Aliens article ALSO debunks the stupid ass haunted car rumours. My 1964 Dodge 330 is NOT haunted and we fucking proved that. And AGAIN, the haunted car rumour, is sourced to my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater. That car ran over my aunt Barbara when she was 2 years old. At the time, the car belonged to Dr. Larochelle of Ocean Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine. My than 2-year-old aunt Barbara almost died and her older brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, came up with a haunted car/demon possession hoax to scam that elderly doctor out of $20,000, which my grandmother Eva Viola Atwater spent on a 3 year trip to Hawaii in 1973. The Atwaters scammed and terrorized the doctor so badly, that he sold the car to me in 1975 for $5 because he was convinced it was attacking people. The car became famous in 1983 when my then neighbour Stephen King used the demon possession story of my car as the basis for his book Christine. He named the car Christine because Christine is my real name and I owned the actual car. Stephen King returned 10 years later in 1994 to film the Thinner movie in my yard, because I’m the real world “Gypsy Witch” (priestess) that he based his fictional Gypsy Witch in Thinner off of. The movies Christine and Thinner are what in turn made ME famous, and started locals accusing me of being a witch with a demon car.

And as for the fucking Thinner movie - those bastards were trespassers. They just showed up unannounced, barged in, set up filming, without permits or licenses or contracts or permission or even telling us ahead of time that they were coming. No one in Stephen King’s crew acted legally, we are not in that movie willingly, they were not on our farm legally, no one ever received a penny for any of it, and to make things worse, Steven King had no right or permission to go o late night television and tell people my home address and tel his fucking fans to “go visit the Thinner Gypsies of Saco Maine”. They had no right to be on my farm, they had no right to be filming my family. They just dropped in one day. We had no clue who they were or why they were there and it took us fucking 5 hours to chase those trespassing bastards and their film crew off our farm.

In short: I don’t use email, so you NEVER got an email from me. I’m not a witch. My car isn’t haunted. Etiole is not a demon. Etiole is also not an alien. And I was never abducted by aliens.

Also, I don’t know what you are talking about with the house stuff. I’m NOT trying to build a house, I’ve NEVER tried to build a house, I have never applied for a house permit, I’ve never been denied for a house permit because I’ve never even tried to get one. You clearly have me mixed up with someone else.

I’m at 146 Portland Ave. I have 2 neighbours who are building a house: 144 Portland Ave next door to me and 139 Portland Ave across the street from me. I think you mean one of them. My neighbour at 144, has been trying to build a house for 17 years and the town hall has been giving them the runaround. I think SHE at 144 Portland Ave is the one you mean, not me at 146. You seem to have us mixed up somehow.

SHE at 144 is the one putting in a septic system, not me at 146. I’m the one with the pink motorhome and the 35-year-old black Volvo. she’s the one with the brand new big black car and the log cabin house.

You have seriously mixed the two of us up big time.

Understandable considering it was HER family at 144 fighting with the Cyr Clan over a septic tank in 2014, and the Cyr Clan hired a hitman who accidentally murdered MY children, ten of them and nailed their heads to my motorhome door, at 146 than the white-haired man with the green pick-up truck has spent the last 7 years TELLING YOU via running up the street knocking on doors, tell you that it was EelKat trying to build a house, ONLY telling you that to try to cover his ass for mixing up my children at 146 when it was my neighbours children at 144 that was the ACTUAL target.

This is not speculation, the FBI have 100% positive proof that she and her children, not me and my children were the intended target because her family was having a fight with some Connecticut based heroin drug gang that calls itself the Cyr Clan over the septic tank. The hit men the Cyr Clan hire got the wrong house when they murdered my family. And now the Cyr Clan’s trying to convince you that I was the one building a house. I have no interest in a house. Why would I? I’m a Gypsy, I’ve never lived in a house. I’ve always lived in cars and tents my whole life. I have no interest in a house on any level whatsoever. I don’t NEED one, I never have. And you local people should know that. When my health is bad, I rent apartments in Biddeford. I’ve done this for 50 years now. You know that. You ALL know that. I’ve owned 146 Portland Ave since 1975. You people know me. Why are you pretending you don’t?

I’m the feral child who lived in a cage in a woodshed from the time I was 8 until I was 31. Did you all forget that? Etiole was the local homeless man who used to break into the woodshed and break the lock off the cage and take me out into the swamp to hide me from my bastard uncles. Did you forget that too? The ONLY reason any of you spread your fucking rumours and lies about me and Etiole, calling me a witch and Etiole a demon or alien, and spreading lies about me building houses, is because my Uncle Bruce and his Heaven’s Gate friends, told you those lies.

Did you forget what Heaven’s Gate is, what they fucking did? They are an UFO Alien Cult, who murdered 39 people with poisoned koolaid, because they comet Hale Bop was God’s fucking mother ship. They see fucking aliens EVERYWHERE. In everything. And THEY are the ones who started the stupid ass rumour of Etiole being an alien.

Look at the SOURCE of the alien abduction rumour. My Uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater. One of George Applewhite’s thugs. George Applewhite, a follower of Jim Jones, that’s WHY they killed everyone with kool-aid, because they were fans of Jim Jones, and they wanted to jump onboard God’s mothership like Jonestown did! Did you forget that? THAT fucking lunatic, a fan of Jim Jones, who worked for George Applewhite, called Etiole an alien, because Bruce CALLED EVERYONE aliens.

Bruce locked me in a cage, and Etiole broke me out of it and hide me in the swamps, and THAT is what Bruce called an alien abduction. But Etiole is no alien. He’s just a local homeless man. Etiole’s not even his name. I don’t tell anyone his name to protect him from you fucking jackasses who are too stupid to believe he’s just a normal man. My uncle Buce is a fucking lunatic who spends 24 hours a day gibbering madness and nonsense about aliens and demons.

As for the garbage that keeps being dumped on my land… you have all SEEN the big green dump truck with the black and silver striped nose, that illegally trespasses on my land and dumps that fucking garbage.

Open your eyes and look around. You can SEE the truth. The house being built is at 144 Portland Ave NOT 146. You can SEE that, now that the house is up.

Like I’ve been saying right along, it is NOT me building a house. It NEVER has been. I don’t know why you let that idiot try to gaslight you with lies about me building a house, when you can SEE the house is NOT going up on MY land. It’s going up on my NEIGHBOUR’S land.

I know you people are NOT THAT stupid. The white-haired man with the green pickup truck is LYING to you, and you can SEE that for yourselves, just by looking at WHICH property the house is being built on.

Look around... does it LOOK like there is a house being built at 146 Portland Ave where the pink motorhome is? Use your brain and open your eyes. See the truth. The truth will set you free.

Now look next door to 144, you CAN SEE that THEY NOT ME are the one building a house, now that it’s almost finished.

I’d say the white-haired man in the green pickup truck has a lot of explaining to do, like explaining WHY h’s hell bent on trying to convince the town I’m the one putting up a house, when I’ve never even applied for a building permit. Building permits are public record. Go look at the town hall for yourself.

Also, please explain to me HOW the white-haired man with the green pick truck has such very detailed info about the murder of my family, when the records are sealed, not public access, and about 90% of the details were withheld from the public and are know ONLY to myself, the murderer, the police, and FBI? There is ZERO public access to the stuff h is saying happened on April 10, 2015... you know that, right? So HOW did he get the info he has? Explain THAT.

please report any future such emails you receive to FBI agent Andy Drewer 207-774-9322

>>>I’m just more cowardly than they are and I’m afraid of the truth and criticism. In your opinion, what makes someone mean?

When I think of mean, I think of my uncles. 3 in particular. My mother had 12 older brothers and 3 of them all claimed to be “king” (we are Gypsies, Gypsy Kings are a thing). And they fought over it badly. They ended up jointly ruling over the clan, each competing with each other to out-king the other, each doing progressively meaner things to the clan members, especially the female children.

Things they did, just to me, included:

When I was 4 Uncle Bruce stabbed me with a foundation nail - an iron rod over 2 feet long - he drove into my hip, through my pelvis and out my other thigh. I have been crippled and walked with a cane since I was a toddler, because of it. His reason? I was unable to memorize the entirety of chapter 1 of the book of Genesis.

When I was 8 years old, same uncle locked me in a cage that was made for trapping raccoons. He gave me 1 salted herring fish to eat once every 12 days. He let me out only on Sundays to go to church. I lived in that cage for 27 years, until the Heaven’s Gate FBI raid shut down Heaven’s Gate in 1997, after they killed 39 people with Kool-aid. Yes, I am THAT EelKat, the child who lived in a cage, the feral child you see pictures of in almost every college Psychology book. I am the child who survived Heaven’s Gate because I was locked in a cage in a woodshed when they drank their kool aid under the shadow of comet HaleBop. I was 31 years old when the FBI raid rescued me from that cage.

When I was 14 years old, because I was unable to recite from memory the entire book, all chapters of Ecclesiastes, that same uncle beat me in the face with a cinder block brick, breaking my jaw, and cause me to be “mute” until had surgery to fix my jaw when I was 42 years old. From the time I was 14 until 42, I was unable to speak due to the damage of my jaw.

In those 27 years from age 8 to age 31, I was let out of the cage every Sunday to be taken to church and sold or $12k to the priests, who raped me repeatedly, weekly, for 27 years.

While my uncle helped Applewhite to run Heaven’s Gate, he fled the night of Hale Bop. He did not kill himself with everyone else.

Social workers took me after the FBI raid. It took them years to teach me how to not be terrified by the sight of Humans. They say I suffer from having no outward sign of emotions, and that it was caused by my never having experienced a single good event in my early life.

At the time of the FBI raid at 144, 146, and 148 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, I was one of more than 120 girls the FBI rescued out of cages. All of whom had been raped hundreds of times by priests from Cape Elizabeth, Saco, and Sanford wards of the LDS/Mormon church. Including 16 bishops, an OOB town manager, and several OOB motel owners, all of whom were in the habit of paying $12k to rape girls under the age of 10 years old.

The man with the green truck, who likes to spread rumours about me and Etiole and my house, was one of Bruce’s top customers. He had a thing for numbers and raped 7-year-olds, 14-year-olds, and 21-year-olds because he was obsessed with doing everything in 7s.

After years of social workers teaching me how to live with normal, not abusive Humans. I was 37 when I got my GED and while I was at the high school doing that, those uncles built a grease fryer bomb burned my house down to punish me for getting a GED.

2 years later, while I was in college taking classes to learn grammar and writing, three of them, that same uncle and 2 women I had never seen before, arrived at the college armed with golf clubs and attacked me when I was coming out of the college. I was 8 months pregnant at the time. They killed my baby, broke my spine, broke my hip, broke my pelvis, broke my knees. I was paralyzed for 5 months. It took me 18 months to get out of the wheelchair and relearn to walk, and to this day I am still crippled.

That’s the price I paid to learn how to read and write, in a culture that believes it is okay to execute women who commit the sin of learning how to write.

August 8, 2013, that same uncle paid a local construction worker $600 to drive a backhoe over my house.

April 10, 2015, that same uncle and a group of 74 members of the new reorganized Heaven’s Gate, attacked my farm. 14 men held me down with guns to my head, while the others used hand band saws to kill and behead 10 of my 12 children and then nailed their heads to my door.

And it’s very easy to Google the news reports and photos of all of it.

That is what I think of when I hear the word “mean”. My uncle Bruce was a very mean person.

My uncle Bruce Mervin Atwater is a monster. And he calls EVERYONE an alien abductee or a demon. Did you fucking forget that?

No, I have no updates on Etiole.

He was shot by a local lunatic.

No, he’s not okay.

And I am getting sick of this fucking ass rumour of Etiole being an alien or a demon.

The fact of Etiole being an alien is a stupid urban myth started by some crazy ass locals.

The fact of Etiole being a demon is a stupid urban legend created by some religion crazed nuts.

Etiole is an old man covered with acid burns. His skin is white and face disfigured from acid burns. He’s not an alien, and he’s not a demon. And you people who call him an alien and call him a demon, you’re all fucking crazy.

Etiole is a homeless Jewish man who has no skin because they tortured him in a Nazi concentration camp in France during WW2. He came to Maine in 1953 with a bunch of other refugees. He has posttraumatic stress disorder really bad and he’s terrified of people. He can’t function in normal society, so hides in the forests. He’s not an alien, he’s not a demon, he’s not a cryptid. He’s a disfigured old man, now in late 90s. He barely get around. He doesn’t you people harassing him like this. Why can’t you people leave him alone? Why are you all so damned desperate to believe in aliens or demons that you have to harass a helpless old man? Leave him alone. Why can’t you leave him alone? What is wrong with you people?

Read The Amphibious Aliens article, where back in 2007, I DEBUNKED every one of you stupid ass alien, cryptic, demon, and haunted car rumours. Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World’s Most Haunted Car, goes over every even from the 1970s, that started the fucking rumour, and lists off how every alien, demon, and haunted car rumour was proven to be nothing but a hoax started by Mervin Bruce Atwater. Every single one of those rumours was started by that one man, and were proven to ALL be hoaxes he perpetrated to try to get money out of Dr Larochelle, the man who hit Mervin’s younger sister with a car. They tried to convince the old doctor his car had a demon living in it and they scammed the doctor out of $20,000 back in the 1970s. THAT is how and why the demon car rumour got started. I bought the car in 1975. Etiole started living in it in 1978. And that is how me and Etiole got dragged into the fucking ass rumours about a demon car.

The article Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World’s Most Haunted Car DEBUNKS ALL of the alien, cryptid, demon, and haunted car rumours. Every last one of them.

The car is not haunted and Etiole is not a demon.

You people who believe my car is haunted or think that Etiole is a demon, you are all fucking retarded.

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I’m sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I’m sick of you people harassing me and Etiole over stupid shit started by brain dead idiots.

And the same goes for the so-called World’s Most Haunted Car. That rumour was started by the same person. That car was proved years ago, to have a mechanical issue that caused it to start and drive ahead until it hit something. No one ever thought to look at the starter. I’m the 3rd owner of the car. I changed the malfunctioning starter and a so called ‘haunted” stuff the car did, went away. It was a problem with the starter, only that and nothing more.

And these people in Biddeford right now, getting you all worked up - if you hadn’t noticed they ARE Mervin Bruce Atwater’s family.

So it’s STILL the same one fucking person running around getting things stirred up. The Atwaters. My fucking uncles. Like usual.

Yesterday at Rotary Park, Biddeford, Maine, a group of people armed with rifles, went down the track team trail behind the soccer field and started shooting... scared the crap out of the 50 or so children and their 100+ parents, got the 30+ dogs in the dog park howling... the sky filled with thousands of Canadian geese, and the park goers assumed the group was hunting geese and started commenting on the fact that hunting was not allowed in Rotary Park.

A few minutes later, a grey/white haired, bearded man, who looks a lot like Kenny Rogers, but not as fat, with a black dog of a German Shepard-Lab mix look, and a woman with pageboy greyish-blond hair, both about late 60s, marched up to me in the park, bragged they had killed Etiole, stating that he has caused their son whom they called “Todd” to jump in front of a train 3 days earlier.

You know what, I knew that homeless man and HE never mentioned it.

You people are just looking for someone to blame, and think because I’m not white, I wear a hijab, and I have a mural painting on my car, you think you are justified on pointing blame at me for something I had no part in.

That homeless man was obsessed with the fact that his dog and son had been taken away from him.

It’s NOT the evil eye as they called it. It’s The eye of The Grigori Archangels aka The Watchers, from the Apocrypha in the Bible. It’s the blue wings of the Seraphim Archangels aka The Watchers. The Watchers are my Guardian angels. I paint them on everything, I sew it on tapestries, it’s on my car, my motorhome, I embroider it on pillows and clothes, paint it on mirrors, paint canvases art for art galleries with it. It’s the blue eyes wings of the archangels as described in the Bible. I’m not sure why they were calling it the Evil Eye.

It’s the Eye of God, the hamsa. A Jewish protection symbol. Etiole’s Jewish, he draws it on everything, so that’s why I do as well.

I’m sick of you jackasses spreading you wild ass rumours about me.

You’re nothing but a bunch of trouble making busy bodies who can’t mind your own fucking business.

I’m not bothering a single damned one of you, so why the fuck are you bothering me?

Why can’t you stupid ass people leave me alone?

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be in my yard.

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be chasing down Etiole.

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be having psychotic meltdowns over my car!

What is wrong with you people?

Fucking brain dead herd mentality that’s all this is.

One of you ran around screaming like a lunatic and rest of you all decided to join in.

But I also ask... WHY would you be scared of me or Etiole? It makes me ask who has been feeding you lies about me? Who has been feeding you lies about Etiole?

I am a crippled elderly woman. I can barely stand up. I’ve been paralyzed and bedridden since the golf club attack November 14, 2013. I’m only just now in 2021 just starting to walk again, and I can barely do that. I have no grip strength so I struggle to even hold me cane. The golf clubs damaged my spine, my nerves, most of my organs don’t function because of the nerve damage to my spine. I struggle to even breath, just sitting up in bed is enough to collapse my lungs. I have no bladder or bowel movement control, I have to wear diapers. What exactly is it you think I can even do?

And Etiole? The old hermit Nazi concentration camp survivor? He’s over 100 years old now, he hasn’t been able to walk, or sit up, or eat on his own, in almost 20 years. He’s dying. What exactly are you expecting him to do?

Etiole is NOT an alien.

Etiole is not a demon.

I am not a witch.

None of my cars are haunted.

I’ve been saying it for years. Why won’t you listen to me?

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I’m sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I’m sick of you calling Etiole a demon.

I’m sick of you calling Etiole an alien.

I’m sick of you calling me a witch.

I’m sick of you saying one car after another is haunted.

This whole thing boils down to your fucking white privilege. You know that right?

Your white ass can’t stand the fact that we non-white Gypsies live here, so you have to make up stupid ass supernatural spooky shit about us.

You don’t like that I wear the traditional dress of my people instead of dressing like an American, so you feel justified in calling me a witch and making up spook occult lies about me.

I wear hijab and veils and caftan and silk and it bother’s you that I’m not scum diving in trashy t shirts and jeans like the rest of you.

I paint my cars, same as we painted our wagons and vardos for centuries, and it bothers you because it looks different.

Etiole is a Jew, and your anti-Semite white privilege kicks in to hate him for being born Jewish.

Etiole has scars, so you’re scared of him

I’m different.

Etiole’s different.

My cars are different.

And when you get right down to it, that’s ALL any of this is about.

Me, Etiole, and my cars don’t fit in with your fucking ass white privileged ideas of “normal” and that makes you uncomfortable and you try to make the uncomfortable go away by dehumanizing us with your stupid ass rumours.

There are no witches.

There are no aliens.

There are no demons.

There are just a bunch of whinny ass white privileged brats running around making trouble for anyone who’s not white enough for them.

Grow the fuck up!

EelKat's Guide to Character Creation:
Using & Writing Mute Characters

/ /



After 14 years online, let's update this page. 


The original article, originally appeared on Squidoo in 2007 and was moved here to EelKat.com in 2013.

The original article remains unedited and un-updated and can be found lower down on the page. That article was written comparing the reader question to The Twighlight Manor series and focused on the characters this question applied to.

However, in the 14 years since writing that answer, I've since written many more novels, and many more short stories, including 14 years ago the novel Zebulon's Captive had not yet been written.

I was on Reddit today and found a similar question (embedded below) and remembered this article and thought: "I should update it with info about Zebulon's Captive", so that's what we are doing today.


My main character is mute. ... How can I have them interact in a believable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"

Below is the original question, which came from an email that was sent to me in 2007 and does not have an embed code to anyplace.

"My main character is mute.  He was born without vocal cords, so he knows ASL, and has learned to cope. Any tips so he comes across as more believable and genuine, and can still come across as sarcastic if he wants to? The story's written from his perspective.

However, my MC is interacting with another character, who does not know ASL.  How can I have them interact in a believeable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"

Below is my 2021 answer to this question, applying it to the more recent novel Zebulon's Captive and stories following it. If you want to read my 2007 answer, scroll further down the page. There is a note telling you when it starts, so you can find it.


Known as Sunta' in The Twighlight Manor series, Quaraun is dramatically different in The Quaraun series than he is in The Twighlight Manor series. The most noticeable difference being that Sunta is largely mute, save for once in a while shrieking a loud, long scream and hitting himself.

Sunta' remains the mystery of The Twighlight Manor with other characters not knowing who he is or why he has locked himself deep in the far reached of the Manor's West Wing.

In the novel Zebulon's Captive we see Quaraun, the formidable pink necromancer, whom the whole universe flees in terror from, start his evolution into Sunta', the childlike mute who does little more than sit on the floor rocking back and forth while clutching his fisted hands to his head and screaming any time someone gets close to him.

In Zebulon's Captive, the readers go with Quaraun, and witness first hand the events which caused his dramatic descent into insanity, but the other characters in both series, did not witness what happened and are left not knowing why Quaraun stopped talking or my he ceased being able to function at all.

In the Twighlight Manor series, the reader is never told Sunta' and Quaraun are the same person. They are so different from one another that no character ever realizes Sunta' is in fact Quaraun who went missing and is now presumed dead these past hundred years.

In the Quaraun series characters witness Quaraun fall through a portal, than re-immerge 10 days later as the mute deranged Sunta' and BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn recognize that this is Quaraun, but are horrified by the dramatic change that has occurred, and remain unaware that for every day that passed in their world, a decade had passed in the portal world Quaraun had fallen into.

And so while only 10 days have gone by for BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn, one hundred years have gone by for Quaraun.

Throughout the series the Crystonites are devoted to killing the baby that would grow up to cause The Battle of Ongadada. Time and history are constantly shifting and changing as the Crystonite people go back in times, hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, killing the same baby over and over and over again, in different place, at different times, and no matter how many times they kill the baby, it always comes back, born somewhere else, another time, another place, another dimension, and always finds a portal making it's way back to Quaraun and eventually the city of Ongadada.

Because the baby's birth caused them to create time travel, the Crystonites can never get rid of the baby. Because the macaque of the city of Ongadada incites them to create time travel, they can never stop the Battle of Ongadada from happening.

In Zebulon's Captive we see the side effects of one planet's having ripped apart the fabric of the universe through endless time travel, as unstable portals are now dangerously looming everywhere and not only entire planets, but now also entire solar systems are being sucked into the portals and lost forever.

With so many planets and so many solar systems vanished forever, the remaining planets are plunged into terror driven chaos as the end of the universe draws nye, and governments scramble to find a cure for the dying solar systems. 

In Zebulon's Captive 2525 is nearly here, and Quaraun, a timid Elf from 1458, stumbles into a portal that drops him nearly a thousand years into the future, into the chaos of the end of everything. The after effects of Ongadada, to see what will happen, if the battle isn't stopped, and to learn his own roll in this event, and to be faced once and for all with the choice: kill his own child or let the world burn.

One should never know one's future, but even less should one know of the long term side effects of one's choices.

Faced with the reality of how choices he made a thousand years ago, would cause the end of everything, Quaraun's mind is shattered, because he can't bring himself to kill his family and he has seen first hand what will happen if they live.

And thus Quaraun returns home, mute, and seemingly deranged.

The reader went with him to the future. To the years leading up to 2525 and saw what Quaraun saw. Quaraun walked in this world for 100 years and saw the horrors of society brought to it's knees. 

But he did not care. Not at first. Not until he met Zebulon. The man who did not care if the world ended. All he cared about was money, and how much he could make off the suffering of others. A slave trader. A breeder of race creatures. Moon Elves have been extinct for 500 years, and one just fell out of the sky. Quaraun becomes Zebulon's latest captive and he sees the future, from inside one of the galaxies worse criminal organizations. A group that never would have come to exist, had his family died a thousand years ago, when they were supposed to.

The long term side effects on necromancy, combined with the portals opened up by time travelers has destroyed the world.

And knowing this, knowing everything, while in this world, Quaraun finds her once again, the pregnant Elf, once again beaten nearly to death, again her baby dies, again, like a thousand times before, Quaraun can't walk away and leave her to die. Now knowing what will happen, if he doesn't walk away, once again he opens a portal and takes her with him, back to the past, back to 1458, back to BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn. 

Once again, as every time before, Quaraun remembers it all, every time he's rescued this girl, always the same girl, always from a different time, a different place, but he always brings her back here, to the same time and same place, so that GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy never remember, never know, he's brought her back before, again, and again, and again.

But this time is different. This time, now Quaraun knows what will happen because of his actions.

Because he saved a girl from death.

And he can't live with it.

He couldn't let her die.

A necromancer, who became a necromancer to resurrect the one he loved. A necromancer who can face death and can not walk by and leave someone to die. A necromancer who must restore life to all dead he meets. He could not walk by and let her die.

And now he must live, knowing that by saving one he has condemned billions.

Quaraun's mutism is 2-fold. Partly from an injury and partly from shock.

Quaraun becomes silent, contemplating his actions. Self absorbed.

He's seen the results of what will happen, and decided not to save her, should he meet her again. This troubles him and torments him. He can't talk about it. 

But at the same time, he's trapped. Captured by Zebulon and trying to escape not only Zebulon, but also this world. Desperate to go back home to BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn.

Years pass and Quaraun has nearly given up hope of ever returning to his own time. His resolve to prevent this world from happening has greatly weakened, as his resolve to be reunited with BoomFuzzy takes over.

And than it happens. Zebulon's men attack a young pregnant girl. And without thinking Quaraun saves her life and kills the men who attacked her. Only after saving her, does he recognize here and realize who she is. He's saved her again. Here of all places, in the time line that had been caused by her not dying. He had expected to find her here.

The shock of realizing, he can not change time, he can not stop himself from saving this girl, is interrupted by more of Zebulon's men, arriving and retaliating, leaving Quaraun crippled, disfigured, and horribly injured.

Then another portal opens up, and Quaraun runs through it, taking the girl with him. And we never see Quaraun speak again.

The reader knows why, by the other characters, BoomFuzzy, GhoulSpawn, they don't know. So they do what they always do in cases like this. They send for FarDarriig, the mind reader. 

Stricken with horror at what he sees in Quaraun's mind, FarDarriig has no time to tell the others why Quaraun has stopped talking, before Quaraun killed him to prevent him from revealing the truth.

When the others, stunned by what they have seen, ask Quaraun for an explanation, he refuses to speak and instead writes on the ground, with Fardarriig's blood, words they had all heard before:

"I loved my children, but I loved BoomFuzzy more,"

Once upon a time, Quaraun's lover BoomFuzzy had commit suicide, and to resurrect him, Quaraun murdered his 4 small children.

Not knowing the full implication of what he meant, they understood: This girl he brought back through the portal with him... like BoomFuzzy, he loved her and would kill anyone who get between them.


And that brings me, back to your question:

"My main character is mute.  He was born without vocal cords, so he knows ASL, and has learned to cope. Any tips so he comes across as more believable and genuine, and can still come across as sarcastic if he wants to? The story's written from his perspective.

However, my MC is interacting with another character, who does not know ASL.  How can I have them interact in a believeable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"


From Zebulon's Captive onward, Quaraun is mute and on a fast track to becoming Sunta' as he appeared in The Twighlight Manor series.

He could talk once, but it is unclear if he can still talk now or simply won't talk.

His vocal cords are badly damaged, and doctors who've examined him suggest that he likely could not speak due to the injury, and over time, as the years go by, that changes to doctors saying the injury has healed and he SHOULD be able to speak again, though his voice will likely be different and it will probably be painful for him to speak at length, but he continues to remain silent and doctors suggest that, he simply has gotten used to not talking and has no desire to do so any more.

While Quaraun is mute, he is not without responses to those around him.

And it should be pointed out here too, that a shift in point of view happens in Zebulon's Captive.

Prior to Zebulon's Captive, Quaraun is both the main character and the point of view character.

After Zebulon's Captive, Quaraun remains the main character, but GhoulSpawn becomes the point of view character.

This is done, because while Quaraun is the point of view character, the reader also gets to see the things he does not say. Seeing his unspoken thoughts. However, once Quaraun becomes mute, while he is thinking to himself more than ever, the reader is no longer let in on what is going on in Quaraun's mind.

This leaves the reader just as confused as BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn are.

By shifting to GhoulSpawn as the PoV character, the reader now sees instead, GhoulSpawn's thoughts about Quaraun.


>>>Any tips so he comes across as more believable and genuine, and can still come across as sarcastic if he wants to? 


In spite of the shift in PoVs, we still see Quaraun's snark and seething sarcasm. But now we are shown it through his actions, more than hearing it through is voice. We see less dialogue and more descriptive action. The look on his face, the glare of his eyes, or the flipped middle finger, go a long ways towards telling the other characters, and the reader, how Quaraun feels and what he is thinking.

You don't need dialogue to tell us a character is being sarcastic. Show it instead in their movements,, they actions, and how to look at others - the expression on their face. How they walk. How they move. What they do with their hands. How they wrinkle their nose or brow. Their gestures.

Just because someone is mute, does not mean they are without means of expressing hw they feel.

Think about your character. Ask yourself how he gets his feelings across.

>>>However, my MC is interacting with another character, who does not know ASL.  How can I have them interact in a believeable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"


Only .3% of the world knows American Sign Language.

Even most people who are mute don't know ASL.

Fewer than 12% of all mute people on the planet know sign language.

In fact, so FEW mute/deaf people know ASL, that is is INCREADIBLY UNBELIEVABLE for every fictional mute/deaf character to know it.

It actually comes off as extremely fake if your mute character knows ASL, because so few actually mute people in real life know ASL.

When a mute character knows ASL in a fictional story, it is a glaring red flag that points to the fact that the author did not do their research to find out how very rare it is for a mute person to know ASL.

The issue is that a speaking author, is used to thinking in terms of vocal cues, and doesn't realize that mute people are often also deaf or hard at hearing and so DO NOT automatically default to vocal thinking.

In fact, they don't often default to trying to communicate with others at all.

For many real life mute people, sounds are not a think we think about. (myself, I was mute from the age of 14 to the age of 42, and am almost deaf, have been my whole life, so speaking from experience here)

As is typical of vocal people, no one ever made any attempt to communicate with me.

Everyone always had the attitude of: "She's stupid" or "She's retarded" or "She can't understand us." So no one ever bothered to talk to me at all. And it's been that way for 50 years.

This means I did not grow up expecting to talk to people or expecting people to make any attempt to talk to me.

And for a good 80% of mute/deaf/non-vocal people, you will find this is how they were raised as well.

While people like to think they are good, kind, loving, and accepting of others, the truth is almost 0% of society is good, kind, loving, caring, compassionate, or accepting of others.

Just as Christians see themselves as good and compassionate while they murder gays and Jews, so too to vocal people see themselves as kind and compassionate while they avoid eye contact, push aside, and otherwise completely ignore mute people, 

And while you could said: "But parents and friends aren't like that..." I will point out that parents are the WORST of all and what friends? No one wants to be friends with someone who can't talk.

Parents don't love their mute children. They are ashamed of their mute children. Lock them in closets when company comes over. Beat them mercilessly and laugh because they know the child can not cry out for help so the beatings are never heard by the neighbours allowing the parents to beat the child to their hearts content.

Again, speaking from experience.

Schools that teach mute children American Sign Language START at $20k per semester, and can cost a family well over 3MILLION dollars by the time the child graduates high school. And few parents have enough money to send their child to an ASL school, and even fewer are willing to spend that kind of money on a child when they could spend it on 2 or 3 new cars to show off to their friends with.



>>>However, my MC is interacting with another character, who does not know ASL.  How can I have them interact in a believeable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"


Do you have any idea how unbelievable it is, that a mute character knows ASL?

Or worse, do you have any idea how laughable implausible it is that someone would spend $40k or more just to learn to interact with someone they hardly know?

You clearly have no clue how exhorbantly expensive scam artists, I mean ASL schools are.

I've known somewhere around 5 dozen mute people in real life and I've yet to meet anyone mute or otherwise who knows ASL, because in every case, their parents didn't give 2 shits about them, too busy with their social life to care about the mute child they were ashamed to admit they birthed.

You want the mute character to communicate believably?

Really?

Why?

Why are you focusing on the mute character and NOT the non-mutes around them?

If you wanted to make your characters believable:


   *   focus on making your none-mute characters ignore your mute characters,

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters exclude your mute characters

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters refuse to be friends with your mute characters

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters harass your mute characters

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters bully your mute characters

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters beat up your mute characters

   *   focus on making your none-mute characters neglect your mute characters

Than and only than, will your mute characters become believe able.

Because than your mute characters will have to act out of frustration, NOT ASL, just like real mute people do.

I hate it when able authors write disabled characters who have disabilities the author has no clue how to live with.

Able authors give disabled characters "special abilities" - make a blind person be a pro fighter... what the fuck? Looking at you DareDevil! Make Autism look like math pros - Rainman.

They have to glamorize and fetishize the disability, or they feel they have to cure it. How many Fantasy novels give us a horrible disability only to have some mage snap their fingers and make it go away - Triss Merigold and her miraculous returning boobs after her breasts got sliced off in battle, comes to mind.

How many mutes suddenly have psychic powers in fiction or communicate with telepathy? 

And than, because the author can't face how shitty the human race actually is, they have to make all their characters be kind and loving and friendly and compassionate to the disabled character. Nothing realistic or believable about that at all. Not even close.

Speaking of mutes having psychic powers, here's the question that I saw on Reddit today which inspired me to update this page after 14 long years without an update:


Sign language in dialogue? 

Sign language in dialogue? (self.writing)submitted 4 days ago by JGBodle

*I asked a similar question yesterday but I worded it incorrectly so I have deleted that one and am trying again*

I have a character who is mute in my book and communicates via sign language, all the other POV characters can also sign so there are no translation issues there. the question is how do I represent it within my book.

Some say to use italicised quotes but I already use those for the 'psychic' conversations within my book. Should I simply do it as a normal quote and use signed rather than said? Any advice would be great thank you.



What can I say.

How many mutes suddenly have psychic powers in fiction or communicate with telepathy? 

Yeah.

How offensive is this to ACTUAL mute people?

A lot.

People want to be diverse by including disabled characters, but than they want to sweep the disability under the rug, which is just a slap in the face to actually disabled people and comes off looking like the author ONLY added disabilities to characters so that they could make fun of the disability.

When you give mute characters psychic powers, you DO make it look like you are making fun of a real world disability.

This is NOT diverse characters, this is emotional rape of diverse readers.

Think about it.

Think long and hard about it.

Than next time yo feel like being all P.C. and adding diverse characters to your book to look hip and cool - don't.

If you don't have the disability yourself, you DO NOT have what it takes to write a character with it.

Write what you know and stop making a fool of yourself by mocking disabled people.

The REASON I write so many mute characters, is because I was mute for most of my life and I know what it is like to be mute. I know how characters act while mute because I can write my own personal experiences with being mute.

Now, normally I would encourage authors to reach out and write in new areas, but, that was 20 years ago that I gave that type of advice, because 20 years ago, most new writers wrote for the love of writing, loved their characters, and were simply trying to tell a fun story for the sake of having fun telling a story.

But than Amazon invented the Kindle device and everyone and their great aunt's uncle, decided to take up writing in hopes of becoming a millionaire and now we see a good 70%+ of all new writers today, don't give a rat's ass about telling a story or having fun or being entertaining.

They don't love their characters.

They don't get to know their characters.

Heck, half the time they start writing the IDEA of the story without having any characters rolled out at all.

Here in lays the problem.

In their rush to get money, money, money, money, money, they forgot that the integral reason people who read novels, enjoy reading novels, is because

   *   they like to fall in love with the characters,  

   *   they like to share adventures with the characters,

   *   they like to travel to imaginary places with the characters,

   *   they like to experience things with the characters,

   *   they like to feel the emotions with the characters...

...can you see the trend?

It's the characters who are important in any and every novel.

No one remembers the world of the novel. 

No one remembers the grammar of the novels.

No one will remember your fancy ass prose.

Spending hours, days, weeks scouring the thesaurus for just the right word, only makes you look like a fool. No one cares about you right word. In fact, they will roll their eyes and put the book down.

Readability matters. If YOU have to look up words in the thesaurus because you wanted to sound like a super cool smart ass, how do you think the average reader, who in America only has a 3rd grade reading level, how do you expect THEM to be able to enjoy what you wrote? They won't, because they won't even be able to understand it. 

Every time the reader has to set the book down, that's a potential reader who will NEVER pick the book up again, and NEVER buy your second book.

The goal of the author should be the keep the reader reading. To draw the reader in with an interesting story about interesting characters, and tell the story with COMMON words that flow smoothly.

Uncommon words cause the reader to put the book down to go look up the word and find out what it means.

Every time your clever prose causes the reader to put the book down and look something up, you give your reader a chance to be distracted by something else and never return to finish reading your books.

THIS is the common problem of many new readers. They spend hours searching for just the right word to make themselves sound big and important, and come off looking like an arrogant, pretentious fool who looks down on their readers.

Good storytelling is better than clever prose.

"Clever prose" means using big, pretensions words, that the author spent days/weeks looking for in a thesaurus for the sole purpose of writing using big words that no one ever heard of just to make themselves feel important. 

Sure, you can have both.

But prose found in a thesaurus without storytelling is empty, pointless shit that no one gives a fuck about.

Storytelling without prose, can stand on it's own two feet and survive just fine.

Your readers remember the characters.

   *   What do you remember more about Treasure Island? The island or Long John Silver?

   *   What do you remember most in Fall of the House of Usher? The house or Roderic Usher?

   *   What stands out most about Lord of the Flies? The island, the moral of the story, or the psychotically deranged group of children who slaughtered each other mercilessly?

This is true of every story be it a novel, a novella, or a short story.

The characters are the single most important part.

The character will make or break the story, by how much the reader connects with them.

And dialogue is what brings the reader closer to the character.

EVERY DAY COMMON dialogue, not snooty patooty clever prose dialogue no one without a wall of PhDs can understand.

If the common reader with the common education can not understand a word the author wrote, they'll never fall in love with the characters, and if they never love the characters, they'll never finish the story.

Good prose is needed. Yes. But clever prose, is pure shit on a stick that turns readers away.

Common prose for common people is why genre fiction sells millions.

Clever prose only understandable by people armed with thesaurus can under stand, is why literary fiction sits unsold.

A mute character is hard to love. Because they have no voice.

No one love real mute people. This is a simple fact of life. If you are mute, the world hates you for no reason at all. You are different and different is evil.

And when you choose to write a mute character, you make your novel actively not marketable.

And this is true of EVERY disability.

Ableism is the biggest form of bigotry in the world.

Even people who scream for race rights and religion rights and gay rights, will shun you for being in a wheelchair, for walking with a cane, for being blind, for being deaf, for having downs syndrome, for having autism.

Ableism is the biggest plague of humanity.

Nothing we as writers can do about it.

But that is part of the problem.

Many well intentioned writers will try to disabled characters in their story for no reason at all, other than to feel they are being inclusive. Which is all well and good, except they did not design the story around that disability and they added the disabled character as an after thought, only after ne of their beta readers pointed out there was no diversity of characters.

So now, they are editing their 3rd or 4th draft and changing one of their characters to be diverse. They don't fell comfortable changing race to Black or Asian or whatever, because they are white and feel they can't pull off a character of another culture, so they go: "I know! I'll put a disabled character in! What's any easy disability to write, one I don't have to research much? Wait mutism is easy to write! All I have to do is remove their dialogue and change it to American Sing Language! Yay! I can be diverse without changing my story!"

And so mute characters become a dime a dozen in novels.

And if you were to believe every novel, you'd assume 100% of all REAL mutes know American Sign Language AND have a full support team of adoring family and friends to help them alone. Ain't life just hunky dory for all them mutes, yay!

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Authors treat mutism like it's just speaking a different language. BOOM, let's change the dialogue from English to ASL and we all set to publish.

And BECAUSE the author ONLY knows mutism from other FICTIONAL novels written by equally ill informed authors, NO ONE ever writes mutism accurately, correctly, or in any way believable.

If you are mute, chances are high you also have a hearing problem, a bad one, and have walk with a cane because of it.

Is YOUR mute character walking with a cane?

No? Why not. Most REAL LIFE mute people can't walk without a cane, so why do ZERO fictional mute people ever use a cane?

Do you know why mute people, REAL mute people, walk with a cane? Because they have no sense of balance and fall over every time they take a step. Why? Because the same organs that cause you to be able to talk, also cause you to be able to balance. 

If something is wrong with your vocal chords, there is almost a 100% chance there is also something wrong with your inner ear, and the fluid flow around your brain. As well as your sinuses, meaning you probably have a constant flow of mucus coming out your nose, you also probably cough up mucus every few minutes. 

Does YOUR mute character do any of that?

Being mute, is a hell of a lot more than just speaking a different language with your hands, and unless you are mute yourself or are the parent of a child born mute, there's a good chance you never knew how vastly disabled a mute person actually, how difficult it is for them to even walk or breath... and you are doing them a huge disservice wen you slap mute characters into your novels because you want to be diverse and think writing a mute character is as easy as just changing their language from English to American Sign Language.


But, the questions here deal with dialogue, right?

Specifically the dialogue of a mute person.

I originally took up writing because I was mute.

I had no other way to communicate.

There are reasons why I was mute, which I won't go into here, but I talk about n detail on several other pages of my site, so it's easy enough to find out what happened.

I fact is, I was born with speech, hearing, and eye/seeing medical issues. 

I've had a slur/stutter since I was a baby. I still have it, though it's less now thanks to speech therapy classes I took in my 40s.

I am severely hearing impaired. I have been since I was born. As a child, I tested at having the hearing of a 60 year old, and it's grown worse over the years. Now 50 years later, I am almost deaf and do not hear people when they talk to me. I do more reading of lips than I do hearing of words, so you MUST be looking straight at me while you talk, and I MUST be looking at your face, otherwise, I will not hear a word you say and I will not know you said anything to me at all.

My inability to hear well causes more issues than my vision and speaking impairments.

Also I come from a culture where women are not allowed to speak unless a man gives them permission to, and she can not ask for permission. She must be given permission to even ask for permission. So I NEVER start/initiate conversations with ANY ONE... EVER. Before you can talk to me, you must get permission from a male relative to ask him for permission to speak to me, and if I am to answer you he must grant permission for that as well. Females have no freedom or rights in Gyps culture. 

So, AFTER you get permission to speak to me, THAN you have to get my attention to get me to NOTICE that you are talking.

I can not hear you speak, I need to read your lips. But, I'm not allowed to look up, women are required to always look at the ground. 

One I'm looking at you, I can read your lips IF you are close enough to me. I can only see 18 inches in front of my face. Less than 2 feet. So you need to be VERY close to me before I can SEE you talking and try to translate what you are saying.

This process makes talking to anyone rather difficult for me and is why you see me talking on Twitch streams and YouTube videos, because I can face the camera and talk, but also why you see me NOT talking to actual people in face to face conversations, because I can not hear or see what you are saying, making it incredibly difficult for me to understand what you want and reply accordingly.

I've lived with this issue my whole life.

I don't know what it is like to see or hear normally the way fully sighted or fully hearing people can do. And as such, I have great difficulty in writing people/characters who have good vision or good hearing, and is WHY the bulk of the characters I write have hearing, speaking, and or vision issues. I write what I know.

I've been legally blind on one eye and nearly blind in the other eye since I was 8 years old.

I've suffered with Selective Mutism my whole life, I stull struggle with it to this day.

When I was 14 I suffered an injury that went ignored by adults. I became "near mute". Meaning nearly always mute and struggling to form fragmented phrases, let alone full sentences. 

I remained "near mute" until I was 42 years old, when I had an MRI for other things, and the MRI revealed, I had suffered a serious injury to my jaw, and no one thought to take me to the hospital.

At 42 years old, I had surgery on my jaw, replacing much of my jaw bone, reconstructing the muscles/bones/nerves, and the exhorbantly expensive root channels, removal, and porcelain replacement of 7 teeth from the canine tooth back to the morals.

And miraculously, a month later after the stitches were gone, the incisions healed, and swollen gone away... I was suddenly able to talk for the first time since the cinder block had been used to beat me in the face at 14 years old.

Today, I can talk, and I've been revealed to not be "retarded" as the adults had told every one I was for so many years.

Unable to talk, I was also unable to tell people how much pain I was in or that my uncle Bruce Mervin Atwater had beaten me in the face with a brick and broken my jaw and teeth.

I was treated by EVERYONE - family, friends, church, and strangers - as though I was too stupid to understand them, so no one talked to me, no one bothered to read what I wrote to find out I had a brain and was also in a lot of pain.

My parents told everyone I was too retarded to talk and no one bothered to question is many they were just saying that to hide their own abuse and neglect.

This the reality of being mute.

No one cares.

People think you are stupid.

And you have no one to turn to for help.

And you can't ask for help because you can't speak.

You ca express yourself, but no one pays attention.

You can write words on paper. But no one bothers to read them.

When you are mute you are invisible to every one with a voice.

That's just the way it is.

So let's talk about dialogue of mute characters in novels, because, it needs to be talked about, because mute characters are seen far too often as "the easy" disability to write.

The problem I see time and time again with authors writing mute characters, and not only mute characters, but also any disabled characters of any type, but even beyond that and just dialogue in general, is that the author does not let the characters say what they want to say.

Yes.

You heard that correctly.

Most self-published authors simply DO NOT ALLOW their characters the freedom to talk freely.

And it shows.

Big time.

And THAT is why we end up with questions like the ones asked by newbie writers on this page here.

The difference between the question askers and others though, is the ones asking the question KNOW that something isn't quite right with their character dialogue and want to fix it, but they aren't sure what to fix.

A strange transition from talking about mute characters?

Perhaps.

But these questions were not JUST asking how to write a mute character, but rather, they were asking specifically about how to write the DIALOGUE of a mute character.

Okay.

But do you know how to write the dialogue of non-mute characters?

That's the bigger question here.

You see, dialogue is nothing more than thoughts conveyed to others.

This entire article is nothing but dialogue when you stop and think about it. It's me, conveying my thoughts to you, so that you can read my thoughts, and understand how I think, how I feel.

And that is what dialogue does in your novel as well.

You have 2 characters who want to know what each other is thinking and they find ways to convey their feelings and thoughts to each other. In most cases that is done via spoken dialogue.

But also with hand gestures, shoulder movement, face wrinkles, flared nostrils, etc.

Think about it.

A character does not need to scream to let others know they are in pain. Tears in their eyes, a grimace on their face, gritting their teeth, sucking in their breath quickly, blood trailing down their leg, dragging their leg or limping while they walk, all tell the reader that this character is suffering, without a single spoken word.

When you master the art of unspoken dialogue, you will have mastered the art of living, breathing, believable characters. And this is just for every day normal, not disabled characters.

And this is deeply concerning.

Why?

Well, think about it.

You wouldn't NEED to ask how to write a mute character's non-verbal communication, if you were already having ALL of your characters showing non-verbal communication. The very fact that you NEED to ask how to give a mute character non-verbal communication, tells me that the rest of your characters are bland and cookie cutter cut outs without realistic, living actions.

None verbal dialogue is an integral part of EVERY human being. You use it every day. Smile. Frown. Cry. Gives a thumbs up. Stick out your tongue. Give a friend a hug. Pat someone on the knee when they are crying. These are all non-verbal dialogues that you do every day. And your characters in your novels should be doing them as well.

A mute person, simply amplifies those. Does them more, bigger, more exaggerated. But they are THE EXACT SAME GESTURES that you, yourself, use every day.

A mute person is not an alien from another planet. So stop treating them that way.

Stop overthinking mute characters. We are not aliens. We are not animals. Stop writing disabled people as though they were creatures. We are people just like you.

A mute person is a human, just like you. They have the exact same hopes, desires, needs, and feelings you do.

When you can't write a mute character's communication, this is not a flaw in your ability to write a mute character's dialogue. No. This is a flaw in your ability to write ALL dialogue. Period. Your dialogue for ALL you characters is flawed, this is why you struggle with their ability to communicate with mute characters.

Let me repeat that, because you NEED to hear it.

When you can't write a mute character's communication, this is not a flaw in your ability to write a mute character's dialogue. No. This is a flaw in your ability to write ALL dialogue. Period. Your dialogue for ALL you characters is flawed, this is why you struggle with their ability to communicate with mute characters.

Let's give it to you one more time, because you really, NEED to let this sink in.

You will never improve your writing sills until you accept this fact:

When you can't write a mute character's communication, this is not a flaw in your ability to write a mute character's dialogue.

No.

This is a flaw in your ability to write ALL dialogue.

Period.

Your dialogue for ALL you characters is flawed, this is why you struggle with their ability to communicate with mute characters.

Once you accept that, than you will be able to write the communication of mute characters with ease, because you will change how you write ALL dialogue in ALL characters and it'll open your eyes to see where your flaws are in mute characters as well.

Read it one last time and than we'll move on:

When you can't write a mute character's communication, this is not a flaw in your ability to write a mute character's dialogue.

No.

This is a flaw in your ability to write ALL dialogue.

Period.

Your dialogue for ALL you characters is flawed, this is why you struggle with their ability to communicate with mute characters.

Why do I want you to focus on and accept this fact?

Because, it's the only way you'll improve your writing.

The only way to improve a flaw, is to fix that flaw, but you can not fix a flaw when you don't know the flaw exists.

In order to fix flaws in your writing, you have to first recognize what the flaw is, accept that it is a flaw, and then you can work on fixing it so that it is not a flaw any more in your future writings.

And the flaw in question here, is not in writing mute characters, but rather in how the average new writer goes into writing dialogue for ALL of their characters.

I'll explain.

Most new writers make their character dialogue sound unnatural and they don't realize they are doing it.

The problem is their characters DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER.

Sounds silly, doesn't it? But it's true. 

Head to Amazon, pick any random new release from a self published author. And read the dialogue.

YAWN.

Boring isn't it?

Bet you couldn't make it past the first chapter.

Try reading 10 or 12 more new releases from self-pubbed authors. Read the dialogue.

YAWN.

They're ALL boring aren't they?

You couldn't make it past the first chapter of any of them could you.

Now pick up some classics by Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, Robert Louis Stevenson, Ernest Hemingway. Read to the dialogue.

Couldn't put it down, could you. Just had to read to the end.

Why?

What was the difference?

In the boring new releases that you couldn't finish, the characters DID NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, whereas in the classics you couldn't put down, the characters just yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yapped away with each other and you couldn't stop reading because you got drawn into the story.

What exactly do I mean?

I'm not sure what has caused it, but novels published the past 10 or so years, often suffer from serious lack of conversational dialogue. It's almost like new writers have no clue how to speak verbally to other people. And I'm often left wondering, is this a side effect of people ONLY communicating via texting on phones and comments on social media?

Have people forgotten HOW to talk with each other vocally, face to face? If the millions of books published with shitty dialogue the last 10 years are any indication, I would say yes: people have forgotten how to talk to other people and we are now seeing that reflected in the general, mass inability of ew writers, being completely unable to write conversational dialogue.

Simply put, it means people have forgotten how to communicate vocally with each other in the real world, and that is being reflected in their inability to write believable  conversations in their novels.

People write how they talk. This is just natural and there is nothing you can do about it. You are going to write, in the exact same way that you talk. Every human does this. It's what is known as "author voice".

But when you are not in the habit of having conversations with other people, face to face, in your daily life, it shows in your writing. Because you will write your novel in the same voice you use when you talk.

But if you don't talk daily over dinner to your family, you don't talk daily to your friends while you walk your dogs together, you don't talk daily to coworkers at work... and you only text and don't talk on the phone, and you only send FaceBook and Twitter comments and don't talk in person, you lose your ability to communicate with others in anything more than 144 characters of broken speech with no grammar. And in turn, you forget how to write conversations and it shows in how you write dialogue.

And here is where the problem comes in.

Where we come back to the questions on how to write mute characters and why the issue is writing every character, not just mute characters.

Because most new writers are not in the habit of face to face conversation in their daily lives, they struggle to write conversations with their characters. Uncertain how to communicate in anything other that text talk, these new writers, start looking for "reasons" to have their characters talk.

Dialogue becomes forced. Unnatural.

Characters don't just talk to each other. No. They MUST have a purpose to the plot.


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy talking to the reader.


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy describing themselves to the reader, while they look in the mirror.


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy setting tone so the reader knows the theme of the plot. 


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy telling the reader about the landscape.


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy providing exposition for the reader to know their back story


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy telling the reader what the world looks like.


   *   DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER, they are too busy giving characterization.


In short the characters are so busy TELLING the reader stuff, that the characters do not have any time left to SHOW the reader anything via their interactions with other characters.

Sadly the bulk of novels self published since 2018 are rife with dialogue that reads like self-promotion spam on Twitter and does not read like actual conversations. It is painfully obvious that the authors of these books never had a conversation with anyone outside of Twitter comments and have no clue ow people talk in actual face to face conversations, resulting in they have no idea how to write spoken dialogue in a novel, simply because they have no personal experience in communicating with others outside of texting and social media.

And because the author is not well read and only reads novels posted on WattPad, written by other illiterates like themselves, the characters become too aware of the existence of the reader, because the author, has grown up texting on cellphones and slapping the like button on FaceBook, and has forgotten the art of people talking to other people, for no reason at all, other than to enjoy spending time with each other.

You as the author, should know your characters like you know people you talk to in your every day real life, but when you only know how to text and smack like buttons and are months between conversations with others, you start to write your characters that same way.

You can't remember wat people WOULD say in a normal conversation, so you type what your characters SHOULD say to move the story plot forward. And this makes for dull, dry, uninteresting, unnatural dialogue.

Always write what your character WOULD say, if they were real people you were talking to at the local grocery store, not what your character SHOULD say to move the story's plot forward, and you will suddenly find yourself writing better dialogue. And once you start doing this, suddenly you'll find that all your character dialogue is easier to write, mute characters too.

Now this is not to say that dialogue should NOT have a purpose or that dialogue which pushes the plot forward is bad or wrong. No. Dialogue SHOULD have a purpose and it should push the plot forward. BUT, it should also feel REAL. It shouldn't sound like 2 electronic devices talking to each other simply to inform the reader of something.

The problem is the trend in ALL OR NOTHING style when writing. By this I mean, new writers will pick ONE grammar rule and focus on it and it alone and ignore all the rest. Thus we see dialogue that ONLY pushes the plot forward in cold, dead, robotic detail, and does not have the melodic flow of natural conversation.

There are 2 ends of the extreme.

   1: Dialogue that ONLY serves the plot and talks TO THE READER

   2: Dialogue that is loose and aimless and does nothing to push the plot forward at all.

You need to balance a medium between the two.

Real conversations are often aimless and serve no purpose because people feel the need to fill silence with something. But characters in novels RARELY ever do this, because authors feel this does not move the story forward.

But are you sure it doesn't?

A character who feels the need to talk aimlessly in order to fill up silence, DOES move the story forward, because it SHOWS the reader characterization. It SHOWS the reader that this character is uncomfortable with silence, is becoming nervous, and feels the need to calm their nerves by talking about nothing important, just talking to fill the void.

It SHOWS the reader that the character is acting nervous, without TELLING the reader they are nervous. This is good dialogue, even though it seemingly serves no purpose.

On the other hand, if the character stops what they are doing to say: "I'm nervous. This silence makes me uncomfortable." Well, that is bad dialogue because now the characters is TELLING the reader they are nervous instead of using the action of babbling at random to SHOW the reader they are nervous.

Can you see the difference of dialogue that SHOWS vs dialogue that TELLS?

You can make your dialogue aimless and real, while still serving a purpose. One doesn't have to be at the exclusion of the other.

The point is that your characters need to talk to EACH OTHER as though they were real people having real world conversations, but do so purposely without sounding fake. Your characters SHOULD NEVER talk to THE READER. The reader should be an invisible person whom the characters do not know exists.

If you ever feel that your character NEEDS to say this or that in order to get the message to the reader... STOP. Tell yourself that your character DOES NOT KNOW the reader exists. Than find a way to have your character SHOW the message through their actions, including through their interactions and conversations with other characters.

Think of it this way:


Your character needs to pick up the box and put it on the table. You could:


   A:    Have the character TELL the reader: "I need to pick up that box and put it on the table."

or

   B:    Have the character SHOW ACTION, by not saying anything at all, and simply walking to the box, picking it up, and putting it on the table.


Whenever you can avoid TELLING the reader something, avoid telling.

Whenever you can SHOW action, show action.

SHOW don't TELL is among the best advice you could follow, to improve the overall dialogue of EVERY character in your novel.

9 times out of 10, you can turn every line of dialogue TELLING the reader something into action SHOWNG the reader something instead.

And this brings us back full circle, to writing conversations with mute characters.

How?

Think about what you just learned.

You just learned how to have you characters SHOWING things to the reader through their actions, WITHOUT TALKING. And what does a mute character do? A mute character can not speak, so they can not TELL the reader anything at all and instead MUST SHOW the reader things through their actions.

And now you can see what I meant earlier when I said this:

When you can't write a mute character's communication, this is not a flaw in your ability to write a mute character's dialogue.

No.

This is a flaw in your ability to write ALL dialogue.

Period.

Your dialogue for ALL you characters is flawed, this is why you struggle with their ability to communicate with mute characters.

When you write vibrate action that SHOWS the story happening, your dialogue starts to flow more smoothly, because your characters stop TELLING the reader what is happening, allowing them the freedom to speak to other characters more naturally without focusing on TELLING the reader everything.

This in turn allows your mute characters to come alive as well, because NOW, you've discovered how to write your mute characters taking part in vibrate action that SHOWS the story happening.

When you focus on characters SHOWING action, you allow your characters the freedom to act more like real people. AND you free up the need to being TELLING the reader everything, which opens up the ability for your characters to talk more naturally.

And now that your characters no longer have the need to TELL the reader everything, this in turn allows your mute characters the freedom to SHOW their conversations through their actions as well.

REMEBER: People who are mute, are still people. They do all the same hand and facial gestures you do to get their point across.


I’ve been flirty with the idea of a mute character, but curious about how others would tackle the dialogue. I’m leaning into an internal dialogue and then descriptions of actions but worried if that might get a bit repetitive. Also makes it a bit limited to a first persons perspective if I have that approach.

>>>I’ve been flirty with the idea of a mute character, but curious about how others would tackle the dialogue. I’m leaning into an internal dialogue and then descriptions of actions but worried if that might get a bit repetitive. Also makes it a bit limited to a first persons perspective if I have that approach.

This is a common flaw in thinking about mute characters.

Sure you COULD do it this way, but you are not LIMITED to doing it this way.

In the case of Zebulon's Captive, the story is told in 3rd person.

The entire Quaraun series and the entire Twighlight Manor series and most everything else I write, is all 3rd person. In fact the only series I write which uses 1st person, is EelKat's Twisted Tales, which is all super-short Weird Horror short stories (varying from 1k to 10k words) told from the perspective of an unnamed, unidentified, character with no gender listed, allowing the reader themselves to BE the main character and feel the full terror of the shock horror tales.

I write A LOT of mute, semi-mute, near mute, and selective mutism characters because I'm very much a write-what-I-know type of author and I myself was mute, semi-mute, near mute, and had selective mutism for most of my life and still to this day suffer from varying levels of being semi-mute as well as suffering from severely crippling selective mutism.

If you have ever talked to me in person, face to face, you know how very severely disabling my selective mutism is and how incredibly difficult it is for me to talk to people on any level whatsoever, even in relaxed situations. In stressful situations it can shut down my ability to talk for days, week, even months.

This is why writing mute characters is one area in which I excel and why a large majority of my characters suffer from varying levels of mutism, from mild to server, to totally mute.

There are many flaws in my writing, many weak points I need to work on, but there are some area, where I'm very, very good at what I do that two of those areas is mute characters and dialogue in general. And the reason for this is because I write mute characters from experience, and because I've spent decades studying dialogue and speech, included more than 30 college courses on the subject, in my long attempt to be able to speak vocally.

My inability to speak, coupled with my desire to speak, was a major driving force in my life for 30 decades.

But, I also struggled with writing "normal" talkative characters, resulting in I started writing mute, semi-mute, and quiet characters because it was easy to mimic my own inability to speak. Thus I became very good at mute characters and flooded my books with many, many of them. And I did so without ever writing any of their stories in 1st person and without relying on internal dialogue.

As a reader, I have a deep dislike for internal dialogue. Every time I encounter it in a novel, I'm pulled out of the story and I stop reading because my mind suddenly wants to know: "Why can I hear what this character is thinking?" This has bothered me ever since I was a small child. I never could understand, WHY could I hear the character's thoughts. It bothered me. And 50 years later, it still bothers me.

As such, as a writer,  avoid writing internal dialogue like the plague.

And as a person who was mute most of my life, I see using internal dialogue for mute characters as a poor cop-out and I see it as a sign of bad writing. Lazy writing.

A creative writer can find creative ways of getting a character's message across to the reader, without relying on lazy writing.

>>>Any suggestions for how you would attempt to make interesting and compelling dialogue with a mute character?

Imagine you suddenly became mute. Maybe it's just for a week or two because you have mumps, laryngitis, mono, or covid-19. Maybe it's permanent - you got attacked by a mountain lion on a camping trip and it ripped out your throat, somehow you lived, but you'll never talk again. How do you react? How do you respond? What would YOU do? How do you communicate with your parents? Siblings? Friends? Co-workers? Spouse? Children?

Still need help?

Have you tried writing prompts?

I see a lot of people baulk at the thought of writing prompts, but I often learn that they just never found prompts that suited their story and once they had prompts that fit their story, suddenly prompts became a thing they loved to use.

Let's see if you can use Writing Prompts to help you get the story moving forward.

I'm going to give you a list of writing prompts. I want you to take at least 1 of them, and just it to write a new scene for your story. See how many of these prompts you can use.

Below are 22 writing prompts. I want you to put your mute character into each of these 22 situations, and write them communicating to someone in EACH of these 22  scenes, but doing so WITHOUT using American Sign Language or internal dialogue AND I want you to write EACH of these 22 scenes in 3rd person NOT 1st person.

And remember - this is a writing exercise. I'm trying to get you to come up with creative ways for you to have your mute character communicate to other characters.


   *    Your mute character needs advice about something. What advice do they need? Who do they go to to find help? How do they convey their question to this person? What advice to they receive? Is the advice good or bad? What did your mute character do with the advice? How does what your mute character did effect Character B? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *   Your mute character find a weapon. Everyone expects them to use the weapon, but instead, they hide the weapons because they believe it's a weapon with a dark secret. What type of weapon is it?  What is the dark secret? Why did everyone expect your mute character to use the weapon? How did people respond when your mute character decided not to use the weapon? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *   Because of a tornado, your mute character is revealed to have an addiction. What is that addiction? Why were they hiding it? How did the storm cause it to be revealed? How do people react to this discovery? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *   Your mute character inherits an unusual object. What is that object? Who did they inherit it from? How does this change their life?  Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character will do laundry. What needs washing? How did it get soiled? How will they wash it? If historical, do they wash it in a brook, haul water to a tub in the house, or have their servants do it? If modern, do they have a washer and dryer in their home or do they have to take a trip to the laundromat or does it need to be dry cleaned? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character will read someone's diary, but it is done for different reasons than people would expect. Whose diary did they read? Why did they do it? What did they learn? How does this change the story? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character makes someone a meal, and the action has far better results than expected. Who are they cooking for? Why? What did they make? How does this change their relationship? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  An old friend shows up. Who are they? Why are they here? How does this change your mute character's day? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  It is exactly midnight. Tell me what is going on right now. Where is your mute character

 and what are they doing? Why? Is this a normal thing for them to be doing this time of night or is tonight special for some reason? What about Character B? What are they doing right now. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Write about a pair of eyeglasses and a beggar. Focus on describing unusual details. Remember to keep everything relevant to your story's plot. How is your mute character involved? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Write about a holiday. Focus on description that uses all five senses. Explain how your mute character is feeling emotionally. What they are smelling? What they are hearing? What they are tasting? What they are feeling physically? What they are seeing? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Write about a locket. Focus on creating at least one compelling new character: either the person whose photo is in the locket or the person who owns the locket. How is your mute character connected to this? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Describe your mute character's bedroom. What are 5 things found in the room that are important to the plot? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Describe your mute character's kitchen. What are 5 things found in the room that are important to the plot? If it's a time period from before the invention of kitchens, describe a place they would eat and cook their meals. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character  is preoccupied. What are they doing? Why has it distracted them so much? What are they supposed to be doing but aren't because of this preoccupation? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character has become vaguely irritated. Why? What has caused this? How are they acting because of it? What can be done to appease them? How is this important to the plot? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  During the story, your mute character eats something that disagrees with them. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  The story must have an old woman in it. Who is she? Why is she so important? How does your mute character meet her? Did they already know her? Is she a relative? Old friend? Random stranger? What impact does she have on you mute character's life? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  While at the store/market/merchant/auction your mute character discovers they have lost their purse/wallet/money and can not make the purchase. It's a very expensive item and they were carrying a large sum of cash. Someone in the crowd realizes this and offers to pay for the purchase, in exchange for being allowed to use it. Who is this person? What is the item? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *   A stranger drops a book. Your mute character picks it up intending to return it, but the stranger has disappeared in the crowd. Your mute character opens the book, hoping to find the owner's name written inside, instead they find... Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    Your mute character wakes up in a strange place. They don't know where they are or how they got there. Tell us what happened and what they intend to do about it. They are mute and know no one in this place, how will they get help? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *    There is a log cabin on the lake. For some reason this is terribly important. To who? And why? And why is your mute character here? Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


Remember, these are writing prompts. DO NOT simply answer the questions with one word or phrase or sentence. Write a full and complete scene with a beginning middle and end and make it important to the plot of your story.

Ie: WP asks: "Who is the old lady?" 

Don't write: "Mary's grandmother" and be done with it. 

Instead write: "Mary's 82 year old grandmother arrived unexpectedly this morning. No one knows why. She's been sitting at the kitchen table, silently drinking her peppermint tea for the last three hours. How does someone make a cup of tea last three hours, I don't know, but she's doing it. Mary's mom offered the grey haired old lady some cookies but she refused to take one. She has an ominous arura about her. Like staring into the deepest, darkest soul of an ancient swamp witch. Her cold blue eyes were piecing as she stared out the window, sipping her tea, not saying a word. She had something important to say. That much I knew. I could see it in the grim determination of her jaw. She was clenching her teeth as if she had something terrible to say. Some horrible secret to reveal. Some nightmare to unleash upon us. But she sat in silence. Waiting. Watching. For what I do not know. Whatever se has to say to us, I wish she'd just say it already. The suspense is killing me. The tension is eating away at my soul. What does she want? Why is she here? Why do I feel this dark foreboding about her very presence?"

"The door latch clicked. The key jangled. The front door swung open. I recognized it's familiar creak.  Mary's dad is home from work. I can hear him in the front room. Good. Every one's here now. The whole family. And me of course. But they are here now. Mary's whole family. Whatever the old woman has to say, maybe now she'll say it. The silence is killing me. I want to know why she is hear. What does she want? Why won't she talk? And ho the hell does someone spend three hours sipping tea? I had to know. I don't know why. I needed to know. What does she want? Why is she here? I can't stand the silence any more."

Also this example I just wrote, is 1st person and internal dialogue, specifically BECAUSE I told you NOT to do this, and I want you to come up with your own way of not doing it, instead of copying what I did, so I deliberately did the opposite.

And there you have it, in under 5 minutes, it didn't even take me 3 minutes to write that, I now have a new 200 word scene introducing an old lady to my story. A scene that I can easily expand beyond 500 words, once I write down her telling the family why she is there.

Don't just answer the writing prompt questions... WRITE a scene for you story, based off the writing prompts topic.

There are 22 writing prompts. I tried to make them generic enough to fit into any genre, any theme, any story, as I do not know what your genre is.

Feel free to change the prompts to make them fit your story. Like, one says to have a tornado happen, but maybe your story is set on a beach in Florida, so just change it from tornado to hurricane, or maybe your character is in a desert region, so change tornado to sand storm, or maybe they are in the deep north, so change tornado to blizzard or do they live in California? Than make it an earthquake. Are they in the south Pacific? Make it a typhoon or a volcano.

Maybe you don't need to add an old lady, maybe an old man instead... or how about an old stray dog? It doesn't matter how you change the writing prompt. What matters is that the prompt gets you adding new segments to your story.

And if you can make each scene at least 500 words long, that's 11,000 new words added to your story.

But what if you can make each scene 1,000 words. That's 22,000 new words added to your story.

Also, you could take each prompt and write it twice: once from the perspective of character A and again from the point of view of character B. Which would give you 44 new scenes for your story instead of 22.

And if you went with 1,000 words per scene, times 44 scenes, that's a whopping 44,000 words added to your story.

And if you are writing a novel, the average novel is 200,000 words, you're 1/4 to the end just from these writing prompts.

Now, if you are one of those people who says: "But writing prompts are a waste of time because nothing I write fits in my story."... well, than you are using writing prompts wrong. The goal of a writing prompt is NOT for you to write a stand alone scene that won't fit in your story. NO! The goal is for you to take the prompt, and use it to write a scenario FOR YOUR STORY. If the prompt doesn't fit your story, than make changes to the prompt so that it DOES fit within your story.

Don't just answer the prompt. Think instead about how you can make the prompt apply to your story. Get creative. Add things to the prompts.

You can easily take this prompt:


   *  During the story, your mute character eats something that disagrees with them. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


...and change it to this prompt:


   *  During the story, an indecisive alchemist falls madly in love with your mute character. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


...or this:


   *  During the story, an outlaw hides in the backroom of the saloon. Your mute character knows this and need to decide to help the outlaw or report his location to the sheriff. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


...or even to this instead:


  *  During the story, a frustrated astronaut is forced to live for 2 years on a space station with the research scientist who was the classroom bully decades ago. Your mute character is there with them and needs to keep the peace between them in order to finish the project and get back home safely. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


Do you see how versatile writing prompts are and how easy it is to change the details of them to make them match your genre? The original is generic and genreless, which the second implies Fantasy of some sort ad the third aims at Western, and the fourth leans itself towards Sci-Fi.

You can use these prompts over and over again, by making small changes like that, to make the prompt fix your story.

You can add even more changes to those writing prompts as well.

Let's go back to this same prompt again and change it some more:

   *  During the story, your mute character eats something that disagrees with them. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


Yep, same prompt we changed up to show you how to make is specific to your genre. Now we are going to change it up to make it be about facial expressions.

Now for those looking to practice writing facial expressions, here's some changes to try:


   *  During the story, your mute character tastes something sour. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  During the story, your mute character has a big, dumb grin on their face. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  During the story, your mute character shoved thier hands in thier pockets. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character twisted the wedding ring on their finger. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character lifted their shoulder in a half shrug. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Sometimes a frown is just a frown. Sometimes it's something a little bit more. During the story, your mute character frowns. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character has a smirk rode across their face like a pimp in a purple Cadillac. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character is being overdramatic. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character clenched their fists. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  Sometimes a laugh is just a laugh. Sometimes it's something a little bit more. During the story, your mute character laughs. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character leaned against the wall. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character clutched their chest. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


   *  During the story, your mute character face scrunches up, eyes squeeze closed, lips pursed - why? What causes this reaction in them? How do they tell others? This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character wrapped their arms around themself. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character raked their fingers through their hair. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character leaned against the wall. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character clutched their chest. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?



   *  During the story, your mute character tapped their fingers impatiently on the table. This becomes dreadfully important to the plot, but does so by side tracking from the main plot of the story and adding a new sub plot. Can you make this scene last for at least 500 words?


I just gave you 18 MORE scenes to write. At a minimum of 500 words each, that's ANOTHER 9,000 words you can add to your story, that are relevant to the plot, and also breath life into your characters by having them moving, gesturing, and expressing themselves without spoken dialogue.

Can you see WHY I am so shocked and utterly horrified by writers who ask questions about should they ad gestures and expressions to their mute characters?

You idiots! You SHOULD be writing ALL of your characters moving, acting, gesturing, expressing ... what the hell are you writing? Floating heads?

The Talking head or floating head syndrome is one of the absolute worst possible writing methods out their. It's what makes 1st person the laziest, shittiest, and easiest to write PoV.

And it's also WWHY every writing professor/teach on the planet tells you NOT to write in 1st person.

First Person is a PLOT DEVICE that is supposed to ONLY be used when you want the READER to be the main character.

First person should NEVER be used with a main character who has a name, gender, and physical characteristics.

But lazy ass writers, too incompetent to learn actual good writing skills, use 1st person PoV all the time. And it's boring as fuck because it's nothing but a floating talking head with no descriptions or actions being made.

Remember also, that the goal of a writing prompt is to help you ADD TO your story, not to distract you from your story, so make sure what you write is part of your story and not some random shit you just wrote just to get the prompt finished and checked off your list.

You aren't trying to check off having just written a certain amount of words or answering a certain amount of prompts. Your goal i to get your story written and use these prompts to help you think of new scenes for your story.

You want to be using the prompts to push your story forward, to push past the road block that has stopped you from writing.

If you are writing random shit that doesn't apply to your story, than you are using writing prompts incorrectly.

Remember: It's not MY JOB to write YOUR BOOK for you.

It's my job to write my book and your job to write your book.

And for this reason I will NOT give you... 

>>>Any suggestions for how you would attempt to make interesting and compelling dialogue with a mute character?

...But I WILL give your writing prompts aimed at helping you to discover how to figure out how to come up with interesting and compelling communication methods on your own.

If you can not write a disability without asking other authors to give you ideas what to write, than you should NOT be writing that disability because clearly you don't know enough about it.

A creative writer can find creative ways of getting a character's message across to the reader, without relying on lazy writing, AND without relying on asking others to give them ideas for what to write.

You are writing your story. Not me. I'm not writing your story.

Stop being lazy. Stop bumming off others.

Sit down. Do your job. Write your story. And if you can't think of what to write, than change it to be about something you CAN write about.

There is no shame in removing elements and characters you are having trouble writing.


Not sure how to write a mute main character...



>>>Not sure how to write a mute main character... This is in an alternate world where sign language doesn't exist, so he uses other ways to communicate. What I want to know is should I emphasise on his facial expressions when he's communicating with people? And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

You write these things the same way you would write them for a normal, not mute character.

I think this is the thing which baffles me and causes me to wonder, WHAT do you write about your other characters?

And yet, this question is one of the most common there is. It is asked literally thousands of times on ever writing forum, every writing subreddit, every author chat room.

Mute people are still people.

Mute people do all the same things none mute people do. You write them exactly the same way.

And yet... so many thousands of variations of this exact same question flood every writing place on the internet.

Why?

   *   Do so many writers really NOT write their speaking characters' actions?

   *   Do so many writers really NOT write their speaking characters' facial expressions?

   *   Do so many writers really NOT write their speaking characters' hand gestures?

   *   Do so many writers really NOT write their speaking characters' movements?

If you were ALREADY writing the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your speaking characters, you would NOT be asking how to write these things for your mute characters.


You write the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your mute characters, THE EXACT SAME WAY as how you are ALREADYING writing the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your speaking characters! 


Why would you write them any differently?

Is it so uncommon for writers to write the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your NORMAL characters, that they feel the need to ask if they should write these things for mute characters?

This is a case where I feel your overall writing is seriously lacking. 

I think this, because the ONLY reason you would be asking if you should write the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your mute characters, is if you are NOT ALREADYING writing the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of your speaking characters! 

I simply can not imagine NOT writing the facial expressions, hand gestures, and body motions of EVERY character. And I do. Every character. Every story. You know where their hands are. Nods. Winks. Hand shakes. Hugs. Tremors. Waving hello. Shaking head no. Shrugging shoulder. Thumbs up. Flipping fingers. You know the direction of the wind in their hair. You know the wrinkles of their face. You know the limp/gait of their walk. You know their saunter. You know their stature. 

I describe EVERYTHING about their body movements. EVERYTHING. EVERY LAST DETAIL.

Most speaking people talk with their bodies way more than they talk with their voice. More so than they realize, I think.

I notice these things and write them down in my notebooks. I have hundreds of 3 ring binders that are literally nothing but notes I wrote from sitting in the park with my dog, and writing down every body movement I saw every random stranger do. I use these as references for writing those same body movements in my characters.

Try it.

Go to a park or a coffee shop or someplace where you can sit with a notebook and write. Than write done everything you see every one do. Describe every movement of every hand, every face, every foot. I guarantee you will become very good at writing character descriptions after spending weeks doing this sort of daily writing exercise.

It's very easy to do. You just write what you see.

Look. See. Write.

Writing, like painting, is a visual art form. Don't think in terms of sentences and phrases. Open your eyes and look around you.  Than describe what you see. Why is this so difficult for so many people to do.

You are writers. Sit down and write what you see. Don't think about words. Don't think about phrases. Don't think about sentences. 

JUST WRITE WHAT YOU SEE!

It really is that easy.

Everyone, speaking and mute, uses visual body clues. Even animals do. Look at dogs. Baring their teeth. Wagging their tails.

>>>This is in an alternate world where sign language doesn't exist, so he uses other ways to communicate. 

It is the same in Quaraun's world, even though Quaraun's world IS our real Earth, the time period is before White men discovered American Sign Language.

In 1458 White people had not yet meet the Navaho or Hopi Native American Indians, so sing language was not yet discovered.


>>>What I want to know is should I emphasise on his facial expressions when he's communicating with people? 

Yes. Yes you should, but you should already be doing this for EVERY character in your story, not just the mute character alone.

For Quaraun, he always "spoke with his hands" when he talked, so I continued to describe him this way after he lost his voice as well, but you do see him flapping his hands around rather franticly when someone does not understand what he wants. He get frustrated and his hands start shaking and he loses the ability to calmly convey with his hands the message he's trying to get across which causes further frustrating for him, ending up with him sulking and not even trying to communicate at all any more, frustrated at his own lack of figuring out how to be understood.


>>>And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

You write these things the same way you would write them for a normal, not mute character.

In the case of Quaraun, his injury was brutal. Zebulon's men used a sledge hammer to shatter the Elf's hands, because he had tried to pick the locks in an escape attempt. A few weeks later, in spite of the injury that had crippled his hands, Quaraun tried to escape again, and when captured by the guard, he bit the guard.

Keeping in mind Quaraun is not human, is a cannibal used to eating other Elves, and has razor sharp teeth, not unlike a piranha. So biting the guard, also meant ripping the guard's throat out with his teeth. He killed the guard and this caused the need for punishment again.

The second punishment involved having boiling oil poured down his throat, destroying his vocal cords, tongue, and face.

When Quaraun finally does escape and make his way back home, he returns home not only mute, but also blind in one eye, with most of his face gone, and the bones in both of his hands and all of his fingers completely shattered.

Quaraun is not only unable to speak to tell any one what happened to him, but he also can not write, and can barely move his hands at all.

It is many years before Quaraun regains enough use of his hands to write again, and many years before his throat heals well enough to make any sounds, with normal speech never returned.

As such, there are scenes of him attempted to write but unable to.

When you people ask these questions about writing mute characters, you seem to be completely forgetting that a mute character is still a character. Simply remove the fact of them being mute and write them as you would any other characters. See how easy it is?

Like your other characters, you mute character still has hopes, desires, dreams, goals, hobbies, quirks, habits, rituals, emotions, movements, gestures, facial expressions, beliefs, etc, just like every other character.

When you write a mute character, you write their  hopes, desires, dreams, goals, hobbies, quirks, habits, rituals, emotions, movements, gestures, facial expressions, beliefs, etc, just like the same way you write these things for every other character.

As your character moves across the room, you describe how they walk, what they notice, where they look, the movement of their clothing, how their smile dissolves into a frown when they see something out of place and stop to pick it up, than continue saying what they were talking about before they entered the room.

You should be doing this always for every character, and the very fact that you are asking if you should start doing it for your mute character tells me that your writing is flat an empty, your characters lack life and well, character. Your story is uninteresting and boring, because it is flat and bland and has no life breathing, moving, and flowing through it.

It's no wonder new writers struggle to reach 50,000 words, than end at 50,000 and call 50,000 words a novel, when the publishing industry considers anything under 75,000 words A SHORT STORY, NOT EVEN LONG ENOUGH TO BE A NOVELLA, LET ALONE A NOVEL.

If you were describing every move ALL of your characters made, like you should be doing, you'd have no trouble reaching 200k to 300k words in 30 days or less.

Descriptive writing is VERY basic, it's literally taught in Kindergarten to 5 year olds, it's THAT basic.

Descriptive writing is the basic foundation on which you tell your story, on which you build your prose. 

Without descriptive writing all you have is the bare bones skeleton of the story. The structure that stands shakily on it's own, teetering in the wind, with no muscles to keep it strong, no flesh to keep it sturdy. At the first wind it'll crumble and fall.

This is WHY people like JKRowling and Stephen King are bestsellers with novels that are 500+ pages each. They excel at descriptive writing, describing every last detail of every last crevice.

Descriptive writing is the life blood of your story. Without descriptive writing your story is weak and anemic

And these questions are all asking the same basic this:

"Should I write descriptions about my character. This character is mute so I feel I need to describe what they are doing, but I don't know how to write descriptions.".

I'm NOT your kindergarten teacher. It's NOT my job to teach you the basic building blocks of writing.

I'm going to just say it: You have no business trying to be a writer of fiction if you don't know how to write descriptions of your characters.

The fact that you did not know you were supposed to be writing character descriptions for all of your characters right along, is deeply disturbing and is very telling about your extreme lack of even a basic knowledge of how to write a novel.

Go back and learn the basis on writing, because clearly you need to.

>>>And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

This question is illogical.

You write that he is writing the same way you write anything else.

I can see why there is a famous saying which states:

"97% of amateur writers won't finish a novel once they've started"


This is because about 97% of amateur writers don't know shit about how to write and are too lazy to get off their ass and test out writing by sitting their ass down and writing something. It's far easier to run to the internet and ask someone what you should write or what they would write, instead of doing the work yourself and JUST WRITING to see what you can do on your own without help from others.

I will never understand people who lack self sufficiency and feel the need to bum off others.

Why can you just do things for yourself? Why do you feel the need to get others to do things for you?

You are a writer. You dream of becoming a published author. In order to do that you first must write the novel. And you are too busy running around trying to get others to do the work for you, so you don't have to write anything and can take the credit of other people's work.

Yes. That IS what you are doing.

Did I do that?

No!

I sat down and wrote my novel. And than I wrote another one. And another one. And another one. 

Do you realize that I have been on the internet, posting daily, since 1996, and in all that time, I have never once asked a question to ANY ONE, ANY WHERE, EVER?

Thousands of people have come to me, asking me questions, asking me for advice and I've never understood that mindset.

WHY would you do that?

This is WHY so many writers will never become authors. Because they have no sense of self reliance. They are too busy trying to find a way to scam others into writing their novel for them.

Do you just stay up all night thinking: "Now, I'll ask this question over here to get them to write that scene for me, and I'll ask this question over there to get them to write that scene for me, and I'll this author and see if I can trick them into writing 3 or 4 scenes here for me, than I'll email that author and trick them into writing those scenes for me. With any luck I'll have enough scenes for 3 chapters by the end of the week. Yay!"

STOP!

JUST STOP!

Stop asking people online to give you ideas, scenes, and descriptions.

This is NOT how you write a novel.

You write a novel, by WRITING IT YOURSELF!

So go write your fucking novel!

Come on!

It's not that hard.

You're just being lazy.

Stop being lazy.

If you are writing in some hopes of getting easy money, you're in the wrong place. This career is a lot of hard work, a lot of long hours, and pitiless pay. Most authors work TWO 9 to 5 jobs in addition to writing, in order to pay the bills.

If you want to be lazy and do an easy job, go become a cashier at WalMart - pay starts at $22 an hour... that's $400 a week MINIMUM... that's more money in one week than most authors make in 3 months.

Writing is not easy. And if you don't even know the basics, than you're making it a lot harder than it needs to be.

Go take some college courses in creative writing. Clearly you need some, if you don't know you are supposed to be writing descriptions of your characters facial expressions and actions.

When you struggle and baulk at the idea of writing a mute character because you don't know how to write facial expressions or descriptions of actions, than honey, your novel has some serious structure flaws and writing a mute character is the least of your problems.

You SHOULD NOT be writing facial expression and action descriptions about ONLY your disabled characters.

This is horrendous writing.

It's WORSE than bad writing.

It's TERRIBLE writing.

It's you honing in on the disability, focusing on it, bringing it front and center. Making a point of calling it out.

Nothing will brand you as an ablest faster than this style of singling out the disabled character and writing them in a different style than how you write everyone else in your novel.

If you are NOT describing the facial expressions and actions of your none-disabled characters, than you should NOT be describing the facial expressions and actions of your disabled characters, EITHER.

>>>And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

I'm not going to write your novel for you.

I don't know you.

I don't know your novel.

I don't know your character.

And even if I did, why should I write a scene for you and you novel when I could write a scene for me and my novel?

I'm not going to give you scenes, because you have no right to take credit for my work.

You write your novel and I'll write mine. That's how novel writing works.

It's this same way for EVERY writer, EVERY author, EVERY novel. 

If I write a scene and you publish it in your novel, that's called plagiarism and you WILL go to prison for it because, I WILL take you to court if you try to take credit for my work.

I can't tell you how to write your novel, because it's YOUR novel.

I can tell you how I wrote my novel.

There are many flaws in my writing, but characters, bringing them to live through descriptive writing, giving them lifelike expressions, movements, actions, dialogues, and personalities, that is my skill. I've won awards for it. It's the thing my readers & fans love about my work.

Quaraun is someone who previously wrote quite a lot. It was something we saw him doing in his free time. Along with embroidery, beadwork, jewellery making, and sewing.

Remember, Quaraun never wanted to be a wizard. He was kidnapped when he was 3 years old, by The Di-Jinn Order, a group of priests who believed he was some sort of "chosen one" (he wasn't but they thought he was). They teach him magic, train him to be a very powerful wizard, but that teaching involves a lot of abuse and torture, supposedly to make him strong. All it does is traumatise him.

Scared trapped and lonely, Quaraun's only joy is watching the wild ponies that run across the desert and spend the night on the river's edge, beside the Di-Jinn's palace. Quaraun takes to sneaking out and feeding the ponies. One day his finds a small, weak, half starved ponies, it's leg caught in a hunters steel jaw trap. The little black horse is near death, Nearly starved from being trapped so long. Quaraun sets it free, treats it's wounds, and takes to bringing it food each night. The pony becomes his only friend.

Quaraun hates magic, he hates the training he's forced to do. He does not want to be a wizard. He wants to embroider flowers and horses on silk cloth. He wants to run free with the wild ponies. He dreams of becoming a merchant. A peddler. Making embroidered robes for fine ladies.

 He studies magic because he must. He's beaten and abused if he neglects his studies. So he become very good at what he does. He becomes the best, in hopes that by doing so, they will let him free, so that he can leave this life behind and do what he wants to do: become a tailor.

The Di-Jinn are true lawful. Not good. Not evil. Just devoted to what rules and regulations. They have no time for fun, pleasure, hopes, or dreams, and when they discover, Quaraun sneaks out each night to care for an injured wild pony, they react violently. They hold Quaraun down and make him watch, while they kill the pony. 

But they misjudged Quaraun and how good he is at what he does. And with a single scream, he killed them all. Every last Di-Jinn, save ZooLock the the priest, the only one who never beat Quaraun. Thousands dead, in the desert sand, and only 3 left alive: the elf, the horse, and the priest who escaped. And horse revealed itself to not be horse at all, but a Phooka, and not just any Phooka, but King Gwallmaiic, the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley.

He was never the Elf's friend. He was never injured. The whole thing was a trap. to lure the Elf out of the safety of the Di-Jinn Palace and kill him. The Di-Jinn knew this, but they had not told Quaraun, and now they were dead at the hands of the Elf they sought to protect.

And evil black unicorn stood on the shore of the river, this was not according to plan. And this was not a normal Elf. Elves had no such powers as these. No one knew Elves better than the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, the evil black unicorn, whom had eaten thousands of Elves.

With the Phooka's identity revealed, and the Di-Jinn all dead, Quaraun fled the desert, back home to Ivujivik and the Phooka followed, fascinated by the create that looked like an Elf, but clearly was not an Elf.

Quaraun returned to icy, frigid Deep North of Quebec, to the city of Ivujivik, the City of the Moon Elves, and the Phooka follows, and transforms, as Phookas do, this time into the form of a Moon Elf, a Candy Chef named BoomFuzzy, and builds a Gingerbread house, in Ivujivik, so he can watch, and study, and discover what is this strange Elf.

Quaraun, does what he wanted to do. He casts aside magic. Takes up embroidery and beadwork, and makes lavish clothes for royal ladies. The weaver of strange fine bright pink silk, that imbues items made from it with magic powers.

It is not long before news spreads of the magical pink silk, woven, beaded, and embroidered by the strange quiet Elf. Soon mages, wizards, witches, and sorcerers from all over the galaxy are traveling to Ivujivik requesting robes and bags made by Quaraun. He becomes known as the pink wizard who makes bags of holding for other mages.

Meanwhile, he makes friend with BoomFuzzy, unaware, that this is yet again, the same little pony from the Di-Jinn Desert. Soon they are lovers, in secret at first, but when they are discovered, all hell fire breaks lose, for gay men are not allowed in Elf society, and the Moon Elf King, Quaraun's own father, orders their execution.

Quaraun lives through the execution, but is badly mutilated, and left a eunuch. BoomFuzzy escaped, but not without injury. 

Both nearly dead, BoomFuzzy casts a spell that keeps Quaraun alive, long enough to heal from his wounds. But doing so, leaves BoomFuzzy too weak, and in too much pain to endure his own wounds, and to end the suffering, he kills himself. In death his illusions disappears and his true form revealed. The little black pony, the Phooka, the evil unicorn, who Quaraun had save from the Di-Jinn.

Quaraun is very good at what he does. Very, very good. And now, he throws himself into magic, dark magic now, with one thought in mind: find a way to resurrect BoomFuzzy, restore his life.

Quaraun locks himself in a tower, for 100 years. While outside the world rejoices at the death of King Gwallmaiic The Elf eater of Pepper Valley whom had held the galaxy in terror for a thousand years. At long last he was dead. The most evil creature to every live. Holidays were created, The anniversary of his death made into a day of feasting and celebration.

Than one day, on the 100th anniversary on BoomFuzzy's suicide, Quaraun emerged from his tower, and walked through the city of Ivuijivik in silence. He sat on the King's throne and smiled and waited and watched in silence, as his wives, his children, his father The King, all his people, all the Moon Elves, all the Elves from other cities, other countries, other world's celebrated this the 100th day of BoomFuzzy's death... oh but wait... did we say all... not all... for four are missing.

Four small children. Two boys and two girls. Two sets of twins. !0 and 12 years old. Quaraun's children, by the wife who acts as Regent Queen. They are no where to be found.

Screams of horror, fill the city, as their bodies are discovered. Dissected and bloody.

The Queen approaches her husband: "What have you done?"

"I loved my children, but I loved BoomFuzzy more. You all drove him to suicide and now you celebrate, rejoicing in his death, and now you will pay."

Before anyone can respond, every starts dropping to their knees. Clutching their throats. Coughing up blood. And Quaraun finishes what he started to say:

"I was with him when he died. I drank a poison that ripped his insides apart. He drowned in his own blood, suffering in agony and you all laughed at his pain. You will laugh no more. I poisoned the food of your feast, with the very same poison. Now you will all suffer as he did. You will all know the pain in which he died. And when you are all dead, with your blood, I will resurrect him. He will return as a lich, and you who drove him to suicide, you will now bring him back."

Thus how the Elves all died and Quaraun became the last Moon Elf.

With BoomFuzzy back, now a purple lich Unicorn, The Pink Necromancer and the his Lich feasted on the bodies of the gay haters and set out on a trek across the world to kill all who would oppose his love for another male.

Thus starts the story of the saga of Quaraun's life.

Quaraun, travels across the world. A simply merchant. A weaver of strange pink silk, that he embroiders, and bead, and sews into fabulous fashions for mages across the galaxy.

Quaraun has hobbies. Passions. Hopes. Dreams. Loves. Lovers. Hates. Haters. He is multi faceted. He gets hurt. He suffers. He cries. He feels concern for others. He worries.

The Quaraun series, is not a single story across a few novels. Every novel stands on i's own and fully a stand alone novel. They do not continue stories one to the next. They don't even have a chronological order and thus can be read in any order.

The Quaraun series is a set on many stories... think of it like Nancy Drew. Where each story is self contained and the only connecting factor is the same characters appear every time.

Quaraun lives many hundreds of years. The stories are set in different countries, different time periods. From the 1400s all the was till the end of the universe in 2525.

Why do I say all of this, in response to this:

>>>And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

Because, not everyone who is mute, can write to communicate.

Not everyone who is mute, can use sign language to communicate.

Why?

Because writing and sign language both require using your hands.

That is why I told you about Quaraun's early part of the series.

To show you that he uses his hands, quite a lot.

He weaves cloth. Which requires your hands.

He embroiders cloth. A dainty, delicate art, that requires gentle hands.

Quaraun makes beadwork out of tiny seed beads and jewelry from tumbled gemstone chips.

Quaraun writes his life in diaries and draws pictures of his friends and the world around him.

Quaraun grows pink roses in his gardens.

(A side note - I weave cloth, I embroider, I do bead work, I sew clothen, I grow roses, and I make jewelry. I know these hobbies well, because I do them. I chose these hobbies for Quaraun, because I know how to write about and describe the details of these hobbies, because they are hobbies I do myself.)

All these things Quaraun does, he does with his hands.

But Quaraun rarely speaks.

BoomFuzzy talks and Quaraun looks up from his embroidery and nods and smiles and listens to BoomFuzzy talk.

Quaraun is very silent. He has very little dialogue. Most of the dialogue is BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn, while Quaraun listens in silence.

We see Quaraun, through 138+ novels and 2,000+ short stories, constantly using his hands.

While losing ones voice would be incredibly traumatic for someone who liked to talk, there is almost no change in the amount of dialogue Quaraun has, after losing his voice, because he hardly ever talked to begin with.

But for some who uses their hands for everything, to lose the use of their hands, that s devastating.

And than in Zebulon's Captive BEFORE losing his voice, Quaraun loses the use of his hands.

A sledge hammer brought down on his fingers over and over again, until every last bone was shattered.


And there is no medical treatment in a dungeon. It is several years before Quaraun finally escapes, and by that time the shattered bones have healed on their own, twisted, frozen, unmovable.



It is very frustrating when I want to talk to someone and they pat me on the head and say something like: "It's okay, here have a candy. Poor thing she retarded, can't understand us at all." (Happens more than you'd think!)

Something you might want to include in your story, is the way people respond to mutes: fear, confusion, avoidance.

To make him believable, you would want to have him clenching his fists, wrinkling his nose in disgust, and other such phrases to should his frustration. Sticking his tongue out as a way to show sarcasm, as would flipping them the middle finger.

Your character will be one of the rare few lucky ones if he's learn ASL and has access to enough people who know it to actually be able to "talk" with him using it. He'd have to come from a pretty wealthy family to afford to go to private schools for mutes/deaf/etc, which is how he'd learn ASL. Most never learn it and just do as I do: write/type to communicate, because most simply do not have access to the funds needed to pay for that type of education. His family might hire a private tutor, or possibly he might have had a public school teacher who knew ASL and taught it to him for free? Unless his parents are deaf/mute/etc they will not likely know ASL to be able to teach it too him (and you'd be surprised how few parents are willing to learn ASL to communicate with their child.)

He should be carrying a small notepad and pencil or maybe a white board and markers. Keeping a pad of post-it notes or index cards in his pocket to write on would be a good idea. He may have "business cards" printed up, that read: "I am mute, please wait for me to write down my response" to hand to strangers he meets (store clerks, waiters, etc.) But he may forget to keep this stuff on him, at which point he would use his fingers to pretend to write on his palm, to tell the other person he needs a pen and paper to write with.

Basically, when writing a mute character, unless he has a wicked, super-duper support group of family and friends willing to take the time even spend time with him (which in the real world, just doesn't happen) he's going to be spending weeks, possibly months on end alone - not hours, not days, weeks, and months on end with 100% ZERO human contact. Why? Because to put it bluntly people are scared of people who can't talk. People are scared of these they don't understand. Especially parents, aunts, and uncles all of whom don't want to admit to the public they have a demonic beast of a mute child in their family. Easier to lock the child in a closet, beat it daily, and tell the public it died years ago. That's what MY family did to me.

He will likely develop fears and paranoia of vocal humans at a very early age, a result of being told daily by friends, family, patents, aunts, uncles, cousins, teachers, siblings, and strangers that he is "dumb", "stupid", "retarded", "simpleton", "an idiot" and many other such labels. He will likely have been bullied and beaten up, and he likely will have low self esteem and be very shy and self-conscious..

When writing a mute character, remember that the average person, when encountering a mute person has the immediate reaction of assuming they are dealing with a low IQ person, who has no more understanding than a 6 month old baby. Even if he is an adult in his 40s, strangers are going to pull out a lollipop wave it in his face and say stuff like "Awwww wou wanna a wittle candy-wandy?" They will use the same "goo-goo-ga-ga" baby talk they use for infants. A common phrase deaf folks say is "I'm deaf not stupid!" and this is why.

People will act like the mute character is invisible and they will talk about him "behind his back" while standing right beside him, under the assumption that if he can't talk, he also can not hear, think, or have his feelings hurt. In other words, he and his family go out to eat at a restaurant, the waitress, upon realizing he is mute, will no longer address him, but address someone else at the table when asking what he wants, and a "friend of the family" will see them there, come over and say to the mom/dad "So, hows the little retard lately? I see he's eating well. You should institutionalize him you know. I don't know how you deal with it, I couldn't raise a child like that. You got the strength of Job I tell ya." Whether they intend to be or not, people are rude when they think you can not overhear them.

You may want to have your secondary character witness one of these rude events, happening to your mute character and that be the spark that gets them wanting to learn ASL, once they realize how very lonely and isolated he feels.

One more point: people are impatient, they will not wait for him to sign/write/type an answer. It takes more time to sign/write/type than it does to speak, and most strangers will talk to him, without even looking at him, assume he was too rude to answer, never notice him moving his hands, and stomp off in a huff to tell their friends about the rude arrogant rube they just meet. They will be off doing something else before he gets the first word out, and they will never glance at him long enough to even become aware that he is mute and is trying to answer them without his voice. He will daily feel frustrated and sometimes feel very alone in the world.

These are all things you want to carefully consider when you are writing a mute character if you want to make it believable. Life is no bed of roses when you have any sort of speech, hearing, or sight disorder. People treat blind-deaf-dumb people like shit. If you are mute they will call you dumb no matter how smart you are, like they think your brain doesn't work if you can't talk. Your mute character is going to find life hard and frustrating.

If you can not write an abused character with vivid accuracy, than you shouldn't be writing a mute character at all.

You wish to write gestures and expressions, but you wish to only do so for your mute characters. This is full on ableism at it's worst. You are singling out a disabled character, treating them different from how you treat your other characters. And this is what everyone does to us in real life too.

We are not treated as equals.

We are not treated with respect.

We are treated as special.

We are treated as inferior.

We are treated as magical.

We are treated as demonic.

We are treated as chosen ones.

We are treated as evil ones.

But we are never treated like humans.

Write write gestures and expressions for ALL of your characters equally, or write them for NONE of your characters just as equally.

Don't single out the disabled characters and give write gestures and expressions ONLY to them. This only reinforced the thought that they are not human enough to be treated as equals with other humans.

I don't feel that anything I say will ever help you write mute characters better, because you are too busy singling them out and not treating them as equals, to accept anything I would tell you.


>>>And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

Have you considered how you would write your characters if he could NOT write AND he was mute?

Quaraun, not only becomes mute but he also loses the ability to use his hands.

So he can not write to communicate.

He can not use sign language to communicate either.

He can no longer weave fine cloth.

He can no longer embroider.

He can no longer do beadwork.

Depression fills his mind, his heart, his soul.

Have you imagined the emotional turmoil your mute character will feel in your world?

Being mute is not just speaking another language, as most people, most writers, treat it. 

Being mute is being actively excluding from a part of life that takes most everyone's time.

Talking is a hobby, that most people enjoy. They love talking to friends, but what about people who can not talk. They want friends too. But no one wants to spend time with someone who can not talk. The mute people are excluded from almost every activity.

I don't feel you have a good grasp on what being mute is really like.

How lonely it is.

How excluded you are.

How desperately you want to know what human kindness and friendship feel like.

Being mute is more, so much more than just talking a different language or "speaking" with one's hands.

I can take any writing prompt, any writing challenge, any place, and time period, and write a Quaraun story about it. And this is exactly what I do. I can write a mute and semi-mute character in any situation, but I know what it is like to be mute in those situations. I know what it feels like to be mute. I know the emotions that come with how people treat a mute person.  But I don't feel that anything I say will ever help you write mute characters better, because you are too busy singling the out and not treating them as equals, to accept anything I would tell you.

Body language is very important, not just for writing novels, but for every day life. Think about how much you use body language when doing things every day.

Think about the body language you use every day, than write down what you see.  Use body language to add depth to your dialogue. For all your characters, not just the mute ones.

More than 50% of human communication is non-verbal. None-mute, vocal people use more body language to communicate than they do vocally language. If your characters are ONLY speaking vocally and your readers are not watching the character's body movements then you are writing flat, one dimensional characters.

You use body language t show your friends and family how you think and feel, what your emotional state is. So use body language to show how your character’s emotions affect their actions. Use it to help you show rather than tell your reader everything you want them to see.

But also, love your characters enough to know who they are and what they would do.

The very fact that you have to ask others what your character in your novel would do, tells me that you do not have a good relationship with your character. You don't know them well enough to write the. Get to know your characters better and than when you write, let them lead you on and show you the path through the story they want you to tell about them.

Just loving your characters would go a long ways towards helping you write about them.

I have characters that I love very much, and I write endless stories about them.

And I've done so since 1978.

Quaraun has very little dialogue. Almost none. Even before he went mute Quaraun was a largely silent character. He is very scared, very shy, very quiet, keeps to himself, bothers no one, speaks only when necessary and, rarely is it nessacarily. He sits back and takes quiet a lot of abuse, always turning the other cheek and hoping in vain that his abusers will just go away and leave him alone. But he becomes very deadly when he witnesses someone else being bullied. He knows the pain and suffering he feels and he can not bare to watch others suffer as he has, so he protects them, by killing their attackers.

I've been writing about these characters for almost 50 years now.

And most of the stories are nothing more than me retelling the abuse I have received at the hands of others, along with what I would like to do to them, were it legal to kill bullies, haters, abusers, and harassers.

The scene of a child, with her leg ripped off, her intestines pulled out and her breakfast spilling on the ground... I wrote that with such vivid detail because I write what I know and I write from experience.

I was 14 years old, a serial killer named Lisa Boluc did that too her, yes, the Cascade Road Bloducs who would kill 5 more people in Old Orchard Beach in 2010... they had PREVIOUSLY kidnapped me and 5 other children in 1991. One of those children was a 4 year old named Anastasia and that's what they did to her. Her brother Jon, who was 3 years old, they turned his around completely, to face behind him. That's how he died. 

What did all have in common? We were all not white and were were all "retarded mutes" so they thought they could get away with torturing us children to death.

6 of us were kidnapped. 3 of us were still alive when the police rescued us. By the end of the week, I was the only one still alive, the others died from their injuries.

I wrote that scene in the novels with such vivid accuracy because that scene happened in real life to my friend.

And if you didn't know that THAT is the type of thing adults like to do to "retarded" "mute" children, that you need a reality check.

You only want to write mute characters because you want to be hip and cool and add diversity to your story, but you have no clue the hell we who are mute live through at the hands of ignorant bastards like you.

I write the abuse and torture and suicide scenes of the Quaraun series with such vivid detail, because they are ALL real live events that I have witnessed first hand in my personal life.

I've personally known 39 people who have commit suicide. That's WHY I write suicides so well.

The hanging tree scene in the Quaraun novels, that left Quaraun castrated and resulted in him killing his attackers... did you know I have an older brother, Roland, whom no one in my family will talk about? #1 because he's gay, and #2 because he's doing life in prison, after he locked 68 high schoolers into the Old Orchard Beach High School and burnt it to the ground, after those same 68 high schoolers, on homecoming night, striped him naked, tied his feet to the back of a police car, and drove 14 miles to Rotary Park in Biddeford, tied him to the flag pole, hosted him to the top and left him there to freeze to death in the dead of winter in Maine. The police found him 3 days later, and he killed his attackers the following year.

Yeah.

My parents, my aunts, my uncles, and pretty much every one in Old Orchard Beach, Maine completely shuns him because he had the balls to fight back and murder his fucking attackers.

This is the reality of how gay boys are treated in Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine.

This is the reality of how mute Autistics like myself are treated in Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford Maine.

My fans, my readers, most of them hail, The Hanging Tree scenes as the most well written scene they've ever read. The scene where Quaraun receives his castration injury, the scene when his town turns on him for being gay... I wrote that scene with such vivid accuracy because that scene happened in real life to my brother.

I write what I know.

And the thing I know better than anything else is abuse, harassment, bullying, torture, beatings, pain, suffering, suicide, and not being able to cry out for help because I was mute.

THIS is why I write the violent bloody scenes I write, because I write what I know, and I've never known what it was like to be shown kindness, to be treated with respect, to have a friend, to be loved. I know what it feels like to be hit in the face with a brick. I know wat it's like to be 8 years old, locked in a raccoon trap cage outside in a blizzard, for 12 days without food or water, because adults thought it was funny to do things like that.

This is also WHY I can't write sex scenes, but I excel at writing rape scenes. I was raped over 500 times by the time I was 12 years old. I have NEVER had sex willingly EVER, not once in my entire life. I don't know how to write sex as a good or pleasurable thing. I ONLY know how to write being dragged and beaten stabbed with forks and broken glass, while being kicked in the stomach, to ensure any baby made doesn't live. That is my ONLY experience with sex. 500 times by the time I was 12 years old.

I've had 7 miscarriages. All before I was 16. And none were actual miscarriages, that just what the adults called it. They put me in the shower stall, turned the hot water on so it scalded my skin causing it to blister and boil, while they kicked me in the stomach until I passed out. I woke up in pool of blood and dead baby tissue. 

That's not a miscarriage, that's fucking murder. They murdered all 7 of my unborn babies.

THIS is the reality of being a mute child.

THIS is the things adults think they can get away with, because the child doesn't scream, so no one hears their cries and knows they are being tortured.

My uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater was a monster. He is the one who did those things. Him and his brother Richard Merlin and David.

They were deplorable men who thought they could get away with child abuse, because they KNEW no one cares about a mute child.

And you want to write a mute character, without knowing what it is like to BE mute and have to live with vocal people think nothing of abusing mute children?

>>>Not sure how to write a mute main character... This is in an alternate world where sign language doesn't exist, so he uses other ways to communicate. What I want to know is should I emphasise on his facial expressions when he's communicating with people? And how should I write it if he communicates by writing?

These characters are very "real" to me. They are the only friends I've ever had.

Why are they the only friends I have?

Because in the real world, no one gives 2 shits about any one who is mute.

   *   If you want to write a mute character and have it believable, then make sure NO ONE in your novel treats them with kindness. Because that is what REAL people do to us REAL mutes.

   *   If you want to write a mute character and have it believable, then make sure EVERY ONE they meet bets them, abuses them, bullies them, harasses them. Because that is what REAL people do to us REAL mutes.

   *   If you want to write a mute character and have it believable, then have them write things down on a notebook, and than have the other characters rip up the notes unread and throw the whole notebook in the woodstove. Because that is what REAL people do to us REAL mutes.

When you are mute, no one cares about you and every one thinks it's fun to abuse you.

Let us now quote something I wrote 14 years ago, that still applies today:



Choosing how to do internal dialogue


I'm putting this on this page, because when writing mute characters, I often let the reader in on what they are thinking and how annoyed they are by others not understanding them.

Internal dialogue is important in most stories with mute characters, if the mute character is the main character. Not always. In the case of Zebulon's Captive, I avoided putting Quaraun's internal dialogue into the story as a design choice, because we see Quaraun's frustration at people not understanding him, and him used to having a voice and now not able to talk, he has to rely on getting people to understand him, but he's not used to being mute so he doesn't readily know how to get his point across.

By NOT putting in his thoughts, the reader is drawn into the frustration as the reader too, does not understand what Quaraun is trying to say.

Thus I put my answer here on this page to point out that sometimes a total lack of internal dialogue can be used as a plot device.

>>>How do you guys approach internal dialogue?


If it's short (one word or one sentence) I use italics.

>>>I find myself getting annoyed when it's italicized when I read,

I dislike it as well. Interestingly this is the grammatically correct and proper way of punctuating internal dialogue.

In recent years, there has been a mass flooding of shitty, incorrect, and downright illiterate bad grammar flooding published novels. This is because there are no gatekeepers in self-publishing, telling the author "You are doing this wrong, hire an editor to fix it and teach you how to do it correctly."

As such, we are also seeing full paragraphs and sometimes full chapters completely in italics, because it's all thoughts inside the character's head.

But italicising thoughts is correct, right?

Yes.

To a point.

It is CORRECT to put thoughts in italics ONLY if the thought is 3 sentences or fewer long.

Character A was lost in his thoughts. This is the first sentence. This is the third sentence. This is the third sentence.

This is correct and proper grammar.

If however there are four are more sentences, the correct method is to enclose it in the italic symbol without italicising it.

Character B was also lost in his thoughts. 'This is the first sentence. This is the third sentence. This is the third sentence. And here is sentence number four.'

We are seeing full paragraphs and sometimes full chapters completely in italics, because it's all thoughts inside the character's head.

But italicising thoughts is correct, right?

Yes.

To a point.

It is CORRECT to put thoughts in italics ONLY if the thought is 3 sentences or fewer long.

If however there are four are more sentences, the correct method is to enclose it in the italic symbol (the apostrophe) without italicising it.

This is a case of people knowing PART of a grammar rule and not knowing the ENTIRE grammar rule.

We see this error ONLY in self-published and small press published and vanity published books.


>>>and I find direct/indirect internal dialogue without tags too awkward, and usually write it to be indirect with tags.

>>>Do you guys have suggestions for the best ways to approach internal dialogue?

I suggest that you re-learn the grammar rules that were taught to you in 3rd grade because they are correct.

If it's 3 or fewer sentences, you italicize. If it's four or more sentences, you use apostrophes.

This is a simply, basic rule of grammar. Easy to remember.

But for some reason, almost no self-published authors does it, they just type page after page of italics.

This is why the advice to "READ TO IMPROVE YOUR WRITING" is such very bad advice.

If you constantly read unedited self-published novels, you will start to think the common errors self published authors make are correct and will not know good grammar from bad grammar.

Read to improve your writing is ONLY good advice, if you are reading professionally published novels that had a team of editors correct all the grammar errors.








Below is the original article, which originally appeared on Squidoo in 2007 and was moved here to EelKat.com in 2013. The question came from an email and does not have an embed code to anyplace.

"My main character is mute.  He was born without vocal cords, so he knows ASL, and has learned to cope. Any tips so he comes across as more believable and genuine, and can still come across as sarcastic if he wants to? The story's written from his perspective.

However, my MC is interacting with another character, who does not know ASL.  How can I have them interact in a believeable and interesting way, while the secondary character learns the language?"

UPDATE: This article was written MANY years ago (2007). 

In October 2010 I suffered from a stroke, which had multiple side-effects, one of them being my ability to form sentences verbally now.

In 2011 to 2013 I took speech therapy classes at a local college and am now able to communicate on a somewhat "normal" vocal ability.

I have Autism and do not speak verbally, thus I write and type as a way to communicate when face to face with others. I can talk on a limited basis. Speech is very difficult for me. My verbal words are desperately slurred and stuttered and go from either way too fast or way too slow. Most times I know what I want to say, but the words that come out of my mouth are mixed up and in the wrong order so sound like nonsense.

In spite of my having an IQ of 211, folks often consider me "dumb" due to my being near-mute and desperate lack of getting words out in the correct order. The joys of ACTUAL Autism aka Kanner's Syndrome. I am Savant. Super smart in 1 or 2 things, practically retarded in everything else. My savant skills: writing and art. Not much else I can do at all and people will be quick to tell you this too. In fact 99.99% of every person you ask, is going to tell you I am retarded. I have no one to talk to because every time I try to talk to anyone, they just shove their hand in my face and say: "No! No! I don't talk to retards. Come back later when you grow a brain." I wasn't even allowed to go to school. So I was never taught to read or write or do math or any of those things. How I can read and write is anyone; guess because no one taught me how to do either.

I write 7k words a day just as part of my daily non-verbal speech. That is how I am able to pound out 15k a day during NaNoWriMo every year.

It is very frustrating when I want to talk to someone and they pat me on the head and say something like: "It's okay, here have a candy. Poor thing she retarded, can't understand us at all." (Happens more than you'd think!)

Something you might want to include in your story, is the way people respond to mutes: fear, confusion, avoidance.

To make him believable, you would want to have him clenching his fists, wrinkling his nose in disgust, and other such phrases to should his frustration. Sticking his tongue out as a way to show sarcasm, as would flipping them the middle finger.

Your character will be one of the rare few lucky ones if he's learn ASL and has access to enough people who know it to actually be able to "talk" with him using it. He'd have to come from a pretty wealthy family to afford to go to private schools for mutes/deaf/etc, which is how he'd learn ASL. Most never learn it and just do as I do: write/type to communicate, because most simply do not have access to the funds needed to pay for that type of education. His family might hire a private tutor, or possibly he might have had a public school teacher who knew ASL and taught it to him for free? Unless his parents are deaf/mute/etc they will not likely know ASL to be able to teach it too him (and you'd be surprised how few parents are willing to learn ASL to communicate with their child.)

He should be carrying a small notepad and pencil or maybe a white board and markers. Keeping a pad of post-it notes or index cards in his pocket to write on would be a good idea. He may have "business cards" printed up, that read: "I am mute, please wait for me to write down my response" to hand to strangers he meets (store clerks, waiters, etc.) But he may forget to keep this stuff on him, at which point he would use his fingers to pretend to write on his palm, to tell the other person he needs a pen and paper to write with.

Basically, when writing a mute character, unless he has a wicked, super-duper support group of family and friends willing to take the time even spend time with him (which in the real world, just doesn't happen) he's going to be spending weeks, possibly months on end alone - not hours, not days, weeks, and months on end with 100% ZERO human contact. Why? Because to put it bluntly people are scared of people who can't talk. People are scared of these they don't understand. Especially parents, aunts, and uncles all of whom don't want to admit to the public they have a demonic beast of a mute child in their family. Easier to lock the child in a closet, beat it daily, and tell the public it died years ago. That's what MY family did to me.

He will likely develop fears and paranoia of vocal humans at a very early age, a result of being told daily by friends, family, patents, aunts, uncles, cousins, teachers, siblings, and strangers that he is "dumb", "stupid", "retarded", "simpleton", "an idiot" and many other such labels. He will likely have been bullied and beaten up, and he likely will have low self esteem and be very shy and self-conscious..

When writing a mute character, remember that the average person, when encountering a mute person has the immediate reaction of assuming they are dealing with a low IQ person, who has no more understanding than a 6 month old baby. Even if he is an adult in his 40s, strangers are going to pull out a lollipop wave it in his face and say stuff like "Awwww wou wanna a wittle candy-wandy?" They will use the same "goo-goo-ga-ga" baby talk they use for infants. A common phrase deaf folks say is "I'm deaf not stupid!" and this is why.

People will act like the mute character is invisible and they will talk about him "behind his back" while standing right beside him, under the assumption that if he can't talk, he also can not hear, think, or have his feelings hurt. In other words, he and his family go out to eat at a restaurant, the waitress, upon realizing he is mute, will no longer address him, but address someone else at the table when asking what he wants, and a "friend of the family" will see them there, come over and say to the mom/dad "So, hows the little retard lately? I see he's eating well. You should institutionalize him you know. I don't know how you deal with it, I couldn't raise a child like that. You got the strength of Job I tell ya." Whether they intend to be or not, people are rude when they think you can not overhear them.

You may want to have your secondary character witness one of these rude events, happening to your mute character and that be the spark that gets them wanting to learn ASL, once they realize how very lonely and isolated he feels.

One more point: people are impatient, they will not wait for him to sign/write/type an answer. It takes more time to sign/write/type than it does to speak, and most strangers will talk to him, without even looking at him, assume he was too rude to answer, never notice him moving his hands, and stomp off in a huff to tell their friends about the rude arrogant rube they just meet. They will be off doing something else before he gets the first word out, and they will never glance at him long enough to even become aware that he is mute and is trying to answer them without his voice. He will daily feel frustrated and sometimes feel very alone in the world.

These are all things you want to carefully consider when you are writing a mute character if you want to make it believable. Life is no bed of roses when you have any sort of speech, hearing, or sight disorder. People treat blind-deaf-dumb people like shit. If you are mute they will call you dumb no matter how smart you are, like they think your brain doesn't work if you can't talk. Your mute character is going to find life hard and frustrating.

The Twighlight Manor Series: More Thoughts on Mutism

Near-Mutism and Semi-Mutism are common occurrences in The Twighlight Manor series. Roderic Swanzen of course being the Near-Mute character used most often. Roderic can talk, but not well. Roderic has Autism, resulting in a desperately slow, slurred, and reversed speech that requires listeners to have more patience than the average person normally has, in order to translate what he is trying to communicate to them.

Roderic posses a unique problem, however, see Roderic also has no hands. In other words, not only can Roderic barely speak, but he also has no way to use either sign language or writing as an alternative either. To make matters even more difficult, the accident which cost Roderic his hands, also cost him most of his face, so a listener can not judge what Roderic may be trying to say, by attempting to read either his face or lips, either.

Roderic is a man who lives in deep internal frustration because he is not a dumb or stupid or retarded as most other characters assume him to be. He desperately wants to be "part of the group" and including in "the gangs activities" but he attempts to say this are often translated as pitiful attempts at trying to mimic intelligent speech.

Roderic's mind is fraught with turmoil and we often see him throw his body against a wall (at times hard enough to cause serious injury) out of sheer frustration at trying to get someone, anyone to pay attention to him long enough to figure out he is trying to speak.

There are times when Roderic has flung himself against a wall hard enough to crack his ribs, resulting in him crumpling to the floor in agonizing pain, eyes filled with tears, and howling from the sharp stabbing sensation shooting through his side, and the other characters do nothing but point, laugh, jeer, and talk among themselves in a conversation that sounds much like this:

"Uh, there he goes again, acting up."

"Just ignore him, he'll stop after a while."

"Why does he do that?"

"He's not right in the head, he never knows what he's doing."

"Should we get the doctor, sounds like he's in pain."

"Nah, he always does that. Poor thing, he's too stupid to talk."

While Roderic lays on the floor crying, a character will walk over and kick him in the ribs, causing the already cracked bone to break, sending searing pain down his side. The others laugh again, not giving any thought to the fact that Roderic may actually be hurt, nor do they consider the act that a man with no hands is unable to get back up off the floor and needs someone to help him backup.

Another Semi-Mute character in The Twighlight Manor series is Roderic's butler/house keeper/care taker Al-Keeme.

Al-Keeme was born with a cleft palate. Outwardly there are no physical appearance of the cleft as it does not extend to his gums or lips. However most of the roof of his mouth is taken up by a vast hole. The result is Al-Keeme suffers from having a "snake like hiss" when he talks. He learned to limit the "hiss" by avoiding all words with an "S"sound in them, resulting in his often awkward phraseology while speaking. This combined with the fact that he is a Lutino (an Albino with yellow eyes) caused people to bully him very badly at a young age, with both adults and other children keep their distance from him, claiming that he was part serpent.

In addition to the hiss (caused by the open passage between his tongue and nasal cavity, Al-Keeme also has "growl" when attempting words/sounds requiring the tongue to rest on the roof of the mouth, such as "D", "L", or "N". Al-Keeme is a very bold man, until required to speak and than he becomes withdrawn, shy, self-conscious and embarrassed. He is deeply ashamed of his speech disorder and his boldness in other areas is a direct result of attempting to overcompensate for his lack of proper speech.

Al-Keeme was the result of incest-rape and was beaten, abused, and twice nearly killed by his own mother during his infancy and early childhood. He was still a small boy when she locked him in an "Iron Maiden" like devise , leaving him there to die, abandoning him. After several days, his mother returned to check on him and deeply disappointed at finding him still alive, set out traps to capture rats, took said rats and locked them in the iron maiden with him. When the boy was discovered a week later, he was covered in bites and gnaws and left badly scarred over most of his body from the rats chewing on his flesh. It was an attempt to cover the rat bite scars that was the reason why Al-Keeme later had every inch of his body tattooed with serpents.

Al-Keeme grew up bitter and hateful, and went on to become The Lansquin (the most wanted criminal in the known universe, known to White Rock Asylum as Patient 1313; a serial killer suspected, but never proven, to have kidnapped, killed, and raped 15,000 young girls between the ages of 12 and 17). When his own family was murdered by another serial killer (The Red Dragon) Al-Keeme changed his identity and went into hiding, seeking refuge with the only person he knew who he could trust to keep his dark secret: Roderic, Lord of the Twighlight Manor.

Roderic took Al-Keeme in but knowing his true idenity, Roderic took advantage of Al-Keeme's willingness to do anything to bury his past. Thus the once proud, wealthy, aristicrat free-man, became the indebted slave answering unquestioningly to Roderic's every whim, eventually becoming Roderic's most trusted servant.

Al-Keeme and Roderic bonded because of the similarities they both had. Both had lost their wives to violent murder (both unsolved), both had speech difficulties preventing them from communicating effectively. As Roderic became more disabled in later/elderly years he grew to depend almost entirely on Al-Keeme for his care.

A few years before losing his hands, Roderic in a rage attacked Al-Keeme with a shovel, nearly killing him. This event cost Al-Keeme most all of his teeth, resulting in his already slurred speech becoming far more difficult, the embarrassment of which resulted in him going from limited speech to not speaking at all for quite some time (throughout most of "The Wild Years", when he was frequently seen but not heard.) Roderic later, feeling guilty for having injured his dearest friend so horribly, paid to have Al-Keeme's teeth repaired. It is after this point when we see Al-Keeme beginning to speak more often, because the dentures/false teeth, also fixed the cleft pallet as well. This is why in later years, Al-Keeme no longer has the "hissing" speech (which I write into his dialogue and actually results in the reader not being able to understand him any better than the other characters.)

After this attack of The Traveling Shovel of Death, the bond between Roderic and Al-Keeme grew stronger developing into a sexual relationship between them.

The other significantly "silent" character is Razzbury Swanzen, owner of original book-version of The Dazzling Razzberry. Razz sufferers from PTSD after witnessing one of the Lansquin murders. Razz is erratic, high strung, jumpy, nervous, and talks super fast, like an auctioneer. Razz became addicted to drugs and went from abused child to child abuser and eventually ended up in prison. Though horribly abused in his childhood, Razz had spent most of his free adulthood living a fairly uneventful life. During his 41 years in prison (his life sentence was shortened when family that had accused him, dropped the charges) Razz (accused of child rape) was treated mercilessly by both the prison guards and the other prisoners. His PTSD resurfaced and in order to prevent his being killed by other inmates, Razz was put in solitary confinement, where he would remain for 20 years.

It is upon his release from prison, that we see the silent, deeply depressed, emotionless Razz, who spends the next 20 years doing nothing but sitting on a piano bench in front of the giant pipe organ which sits in the front pallor of The Twighlight Manor. Razz sits, unmoving reading and reading the same page of the same book, over and over again 10, 12, 16, 20 hours a day, day after day for weeks on end, without saying a single solitary word. Razz is a broken man so detached from reality that he no longer speaks at all. On what few occasions one (usually Etiole) is able to get him to speak, it is very disjointed, nonsensical talk about piranhas attacking, pink penguins running by, and chocolate pudding talking from it's bowl, intersected by stutters and ticks. Coherent speech has all but disappeared from Razz's vocabulary.



I Love Roderic!
A List of Every Page on this Site
Where I Talk More About Roderic

It is no secret that Sir Roderic Lincandonia Swanzen, owner of The Twighlight Manor, is my favorite character, and you don't have to read very many blog posts, articles, site pages, etc to realize, I talk about him A LOT. While you see him mentioned in passing on just about every page on this site, there are some pages where I go into vast detail about his life. I am going to make a list of them all and tack it to the end of each of those pages, to make it easier for readers to find them all. And here they are:

Roderic Swanzen

Developing Character Backgrounds

Using a Character with a Mental Illness

But Is It Erotica?

Toilets in Fiction

Twighlight NOT Twilight!

Mental Illness in Fiction

Incest In Fiction

Mute Characters

Characters With Disabilities

NaNoWriMo: How Do You Pick Which Story to Write?

Enhance Your Creativity To Become a Better Writer

Fantasy World Building











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