Badger Beginnings

A Meandering Post

Original illustration by James_Illus from fiverr.com

Of course, you’re looking at the end of the world. Or maybe the beginning of a new one?  Either way, this world has been around for awhile.  Since before the collapse in fact.  Before things got tough for many and tougher for many others – but the recession is not what this site is about.  This is a site about Samuel.  He’s… a badger.  Not just any badger though, he’s a badger that got his start in a Sam’s Club parking lot in fact.  He made a quick appearance as my father-in-law and I were walking in to get some thing or another, and to taste the samples they always cooked and offered while we picked up sundry items.  It was also a good excuse to get out and about and talk about stuff.  Nothing heavy, nothing earth shattering, just chit chat and look at gadgets like TV’s that (at that time) cost as much as a car in the 1960’s and was the size of the windshield to boot.  He’d look at them, smile and shake his head and laugh, then move on and look for some “eats”.

Well, as I was saying, we were walking in through the parking lot and I was trying to catch up (for someone with bad knees, he could walk pretty fast). I ducked around the back of a van and caught my shin on one of those “cargo carriers” that were all the rage at the time for anyone with a trailer hitch.  Like securing a metal shelf in that unused trailer hitch when you had nothing better to do with it.

“Ow! Damn!” I said.  Larry looked back and stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I caught my leg on that trailer-carrier-shelf thing.”
“Can you walk?”
“Sure.” I said.
“Well come on then!” he said smiling. He was a man on a snacking mission.  I kept thinking of that awful thing masquerading as a great idea that bloodied my leg. “That’s not a convenience – that’s a weapon!” I said to myself. Being a Brit-com fan, the words popped into my head in an English accent “That’s a shin-pike!”  This thought made me grin and gave me something else to think about.

As with most passing thoughts, this one drifted into the distance, being replaced by the then here-and-now, but it kept coming back. It would come back as I walked the dog. It would pop up as I was reading my daughters their stories.  It would pop into my head as I drove from here to there – each time I would play with it, look at it roll it around with whatever other things I was thinking about. At one point it became an epithet: “You little shinpiker!” Then a dimimuitive protagonist “Samuel Shinpike – Serving justice just below the kneecap!” Then he started taking shape as a video game, and grew hair and a snout.  Briefly he was a raccoon, then he quickly morphed into a badger.

A friend of mine was once chased by a badger who was growling and hissing and keeping up with him pretty well as he ran.  His friend finally called him off and confessed the badger was a pet just as my friend was about to turn around and punt the snarling little menace like a football. It would have been an awful shame to have one of Samuel’s predecessors end his days being kicked sixty yards to his death over an imaginary goalpost.

So, Samuel kept dropping by, I’d imagine him this way and that, get the first inklings of a story then go on to more pressing matters, like feeding my family by taking what ever tech work I could find.  He’d appear in my mind as I would turn off the radio, as I was listening to this podcast and that, would reveal his tendencies here and there then wander off.  At this point I was writing very young children’s stories, and being somewhat OCD (“focused” some may say) I didn’t to begin work on his story until I was commuting over back roads for a little under an hour to work on a regular basis with a full time position again after almost two years of searching.

At this point I had been listening to Johnny B. Truant, Sean Platt and David Wright’s “Better Off Undead” and “Self Publishing Podcast” and got the itch to write something bigger.  Their insights, insults and information got me going.  I’m certainly not a writing demon (daemon?) like these guys, but I got faster for awhile, picked up Scrivener, imported all of the disparate pages then plowed on.  It became easier until it came time to compile for book and ebook formats, then came the cover, the back cover for the paperback – despite their insistence to outsource if you don’t do this regularly,

I OCD’d again and scribbled out several pics after an initial outsource of the concept to a fiverr artist named James_Illus.  When I’m finished with the second of the series, I may outsource the whole thing to this artist – he’s very good. I also spent countless hours (okay Johnny, twelve and one-half hours, but who’s counting?) “drawing” with a mouse (my daughter was busy with her tablet/pen and she smokes me as an artist… maybe I’ll hire her if she’s not too busy next time) when I could have been writing or doing the final proofreads.  Next time I’ll outsource – family gets first dibs, though.

So – no spoilers – “if” Samuel makes it out of the meadows alive, he will go on to visit another of the remaining cities.  If not, he may just wander off into the woods, drop in from time to time to look over my shoulder as I’m writing or nod to me as I’m walking the dog.  He was in competition for the attention of my lovable mutt who has his own stories, but those will be fleshed out with a different co-writer and a future time.

Available at Amazon.com in paperback and Kindle.

C.D. Mellon?  Charlene (I call her “Chuck” just for fun – double entendres) is a collaborator I work with to bounce around ideas and story beats, She sounds like Peppermint Patty from the Charlie Brown specials – that scratchy voice that made her so endearing.  At the time the book was published she was living in a Futuro home and sporting a half-Mohawk.  Since then, she tells me she’s got the other side sheared and is adding pink tips, and looking to care-take a small estate if she gets the position.