when i was in Lincoln High School in Brooklyn New York City. I was the Son of New York and led the Lincoln High School to win the New York State Championship 2 years in a row (2001 and 2002)
In those two years, I got Mr. Basketball of New York 2 times, and the best high school student in the United States and i also got other honors.
Even the Owner of the New York Knicks joke about that once i participated in the draft the knicks will pick me. 
*****
follow me on IG @dunknd0nut

Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-Exp-EXP-

World War II, and Japan's defeat, deeply influenced Japanese literature. Many authors wrote stories of disaffection, loss of purpose, and the coping with defeat. Haruo Umezaki's short story Sakurajima shows a disillusioned and skeptical Navy officer stationed in a base located on the Sakurajima volcanic island, close to Kagoshima, on the southern tip of the Kyushu island. Osamu Dazai's novel The Setting Suntells of a soldier returning from Manchukuo. Shōhei Ōoka won the Yomiuri Prize for his novel Fires on the Plain about a Japanese deserter going mad in the Philippine jungle. Yukio Mishima, well known for both his nihilistic writing and his controversial suicide by seppuku, began writing in the post-war period. Nobuo Kojima's short story "The American School" portrays a group of Japanese teachers of English who, in the immediate aftermath of the war, deal with the American occupation in varying ways.

Prominent writers of the 1970s and 1980s were identified with intellectual and moral issues in their attempts to raise social and political consciousness. One of them, Kenzaburō Ōe published his best-known work, A Personal Matterin 1964 and became Japan's second winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Mitsuharu Inoue (ja) had long been concerned with the atomic bomb and continued in the 1980s to write on problems of the nuclear age, while Shusaku Endo depicted the religious dilemma of the Kakure Kirishitan, Roman Catholics in feudal Japan, as a springboard to address spiritual problems. Yasushi Inoue also turned to the past in masterful historical novels of Inner Asia and ancient Japan, in order to portray present human fate.

Avant-garde writers, such as Kōbō Abe, who wrote fantastic novels such as The Woman in the Dunes (1960), wanted to express the Japanese experience in modern terms without using either international styles or traditional conventions, developed new inner visions. Yoshikichi Furui tellingly related the lives of alienated urban dwellers coping with the minutiae of daily life, while the psychodramas within such daily life crises have been explored by a rising number of important women novelists. The 1988 Naoki Prize went to Shizuko Todo (ja) for Ripening Summer, a story capturing the complex psychology of modern women. Other award-winning stories at the end of the decade dealt with current issues of the elderly in hospitals, the recent past (Pure- Hearted Shopping District in Kōenji, Tokyo), and the life of a Meiji period ukiyo-e artist.

Haruki Murakami is one of the most popular and controversial of today's Japanese authors. His genre-defying, humorous and surreal works have sparked fierce debates in Japan over whether they are true "literature" or simple pop-fiction: Kenzaburō Ōe has been one of his harshest critics. Some of Murakami's best-known works include Norwegian Wood (1987) and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1994–1995).

Banana Yoshimoto, a best-selling contemporary author whose "manga-esque" style of writing sparked much controversy when she debuted in the late 1980s, has come to be recognized as a unique and talented author over the intervening years. Her writing style stresses dialogue over description, resembling the script of a manga, and her works focus on love, friendship and loss. Her breakout work was 1988's Kitchen.

Although modern Japanese writers covered a wide variety of subjects, one particularly Japanese approach stressed their subjects' inner lives, widening the earlier novel's preoccupation with the narrator's consciousness. In Japanese fiction, plot development and action have often been of secondary interest to emotional issues. In keeping with the general trend toward reaffirming national characteristics, many old themes re-emerged, and some authors turned consciously to the past. Strikingly, Buddhist attitudes about the importance of knowing oneself and the poignant impermanence of things formed an undercurrent to sharp social criticism of this material age. There was a growing emphasis on women's roles, the Japanese persona in the modern world, and the malaise of common people lost in the complexities of urban culture.

Popular fiction, non-fiction, and children's literature all flourished in urban Japan in the 1980s. Many popular works fell between "pure literature" and pulp novels, including all sorts of historical serials, information-packed docudramas, science fiction, mysteries, detective fiction, business stories, war journals, and animal stories. Non-fiction covered everything from crime to politics. Although factual journalism predominated, many of these works were interpretive, reflecting a high degree of individualism. Children's works re-emerged in the 1950s, and the newer entrants into this field, many of them younger women, brought new vitality to it in the 1980s.

Manga (comics) has penetrated almost every sector of the popular market. It includes virtually every field of human interest, such as multivolume high-school histories of Japan and, for the adult market, a manga introduction to economics, and pornography. Manga represented between 20 and 30 percent of annual publications at the end of the 1980s, in sales of some ¥400 billion per year.

Cell phone novels appeared in the early 21st century. Written by and for cell phone users, the novels—typically romances read by young women—have become very popular both online and in print. Some, such as Love Sky, have sold millions of print copies, and at the end of 2007 cell phone novels comprised four of the top five fiction best sellers.

this is made for the purpose of getting the authors badge  at any rate I'll just compile world literature

"Well, Eric, would you let my publishing house take care of your book ?" Michael Klaus didn't try to hide his intentions, as he very bluntly said.
 
Eric looked at the already printed and bounded manuscript that the black girl gave him, and said to Michael Klaus: "I'm sorry, Michael, though I appreciate your recognition, but you know, I want to try my luck with some of the larger publishing houses. Parents hope for their children to make it to the Ivy League, don't they ?"
 
Michael did not have the slightest expression of contempt or displeasure as he smiled and said: "Eric, you don't seem to have a full understanding of those large publishing companies, maybe we could find a place to talk, I know a cafe not far from here, my treat, how about it ?"
 
Eric took back the manuscript, and put it into his bag as he straightforwardly replied: "I'm sorry, Michael, I'm late for work, if in the future my manuscript gets rejected by those publishers, I will contact you."
 
Eric carried his backpack and got out of the printing shop, he started his car and drove towards the restaurant.
Michael hesitated a little, before immediately rushing out of the shop, getting into his car and following him. He had a feeling that if he missed this opportunity, he might regret it forever. This feeling he got was 30% because the Jurassic Park novel and 70% because of that young man called Eric.
 
Although he had only read the top half of the novel, Michael was surprised by the lad's knowledge. It had to be known that teens his age may have never heard of genetic engineering, chaos theory, nanotechnology and other high-tech factors. But not only was this kid well documented, he also used that vocabulary in a way that didn't actually make you lose interest in the novel, and instead added to the fascinating twists of the plot.
 
He had seen many types of sci-fi novels, but most of them used those scientific terms in a very boring way, that type of fiction was obviously not for all types of readers.
 
Eric parked his car on the parking lot and turned around to find a black car stopping not far away. Michael Klaus got out, he had apparently followed him. This served to satisfy Eric's vanity. His favourable impression of Michael was seriously growing.
 
"Hey, Eric-"  Michael waved his hand and was about to speak when Eric pointed at his watch and said: "That, Michael, you see, it's nine and I work in this Italian restaurant as a waiter, if you don't mind ordering breakfast, the bar and restaurant are basically deserted before 10 o'clock." Michael nodded knowingly and followed Eric as he walked into a restaurant.
 
Eric changed his clothes and came out, Michael had been sitting at a window seat, an empty breakfast plate in front of him.
 
"I explained the situation to Mr. Jeff, but you have to hurry." Eric sat across Michael, smiled and said: "I might be young, but I'm not that easily persuaded."
 
Michael laughed: "I believe after you hear my explanation you will certainly give it to me to publish. As I just said, you probably don't know those big publishers, but, I have worked at Simon & Schuster for eleven years, I did everything, from the most basic things to editing. Because I failed in the competition for the department manager position, I left and founded my own The Night Elves publishing house."
 
"What does that have to do with me ?" Because of his past life as a loser, Eric feared hearing about other people struggle stories, and couldn't help but interrupt.
 
"Relax, young man, I  just want to make you understand that I'm not kidding around and that my words are the truth. You know, I was originally editing reviews at first, every day I reviewed tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of words from drafts, although there were a lot of, ehm, bad manuscripts, there were also a lot of works that got published. At least 2000 different kinds of books make it each year. Even if you got published, they already have thousands of ongoing publications, how much promotional marketing resources do you think they'll use on a newbie ?"
 
Michael finished, stopped and took a sip of water, leaving Eric some room to process. Eric already got the idea but did not say anything, he kept staring at Michael, indicating him to keep going.
 
Michael followed:  "My publishing house might be small, but with my years of experience and knowledge on publishing and marketing, it has always been doing well. Science fiction, adventure, and horror novels, although we only publish about a dozen novels each year, we still have a certain amount of reputation in the industry. If you give Jurassic Park to me, I promise to put in all the resources we have towards promoting your novel in the shortest time possible and help Jurassic Park  build some fame. With my help, and under my guidance, your novel will have higher chances to make it into the bestseller list."
 
Michael laid all his cards on the table, then quietly waited for Eric's decision.
 
After hearing Michael's rant, Eric was still somewhat concerned. Even if a small publishing house put in all their resources, how much could that possibly be ?
 
His mind was still that of a middle-aged man, he had experienced a lot in his past life and had seen all kinds of people. So of course he wouldn't be so hot-blooded as to change his mind with only a few words. However, there were two points that Michael mentioned that kept hitting his sensitive strings:  in the shortest time possible,  and, help Jurassic Park build some fame.
 
No matter the era, fame had always been an intangible but incredibly useful asset. From Eric's point of view, the only obstacle to the implementation of his plan was his young age that would prevent him from receiving other's full trust and support.
 
But with enough fame, this shortcoming disappears. If an eighteen-year-old freshly graduated high school student were to become a movie director, people would just laugh in contempt. But if an eighteen-year-old talented writer becomes one, the results would definitely not be the same. Sure, there would still be criticism, but there would also be some who would think along the lines of: Damn, that genius kid is quite fierce.
 
Eric said: "I have to admit, Michael, you kinda moved me there. However, these are only promises, I still know nothing about your publishing house."
 
"It's very easy to change that," Michael calmly said: "One of the authors my publishing house is in charge of made it into the recent New York Times best-sellers list. Although he only made it into the last place, it didn't stop Twentieth Century Fox from purchasing the movie rights. It'll probably be made into a film in the following years."
 
Eric didn't doubt Michael's words, those kinds of things could be easily looked up. He said: "So, when do we start talking about this cooperation ?"
 
Michael was stunned for a second before stammering: "Y-you, you'll agree ?"
 
"Yes," Eric nodded and smiled, "To be honest, I just can't wait to see my novel hit the shelves."
 
"Alright so how about tonight ? I think you may need to work now." Michael pointed at the restaurant's entrance where guests were gradually increasing.
 
After the two men agreed on the meeting place, Michael left the restaurant satisfied.
 
"Eric, what did you talk about with that man ? You look unusually happy." Jeff asked. Eric had just told him that he had to discuss something important with a friend, so he was a bit curious.
 
Eric handed the menus over to the guests and then their orders to his colleagues in the kitchen, before replying: "Oh yeah, awesome news Jeff, that man is the owner of a publishing house, I will soon be published."
 
Jeff was a little confused, and asked as he looked at Eric strangely: "Publish a novel ? Didn't you tell me yesterday that you wanted to become a director, that you had written a script ? Are you going to give up on your dream so quickly to become a writer instead ?"
 
Eric said: "Of course not, my goal hasn't changed, writing won't prevent me from becoming a director now, will it ? The manuscript is in my backpack in the locker room, Jeff do you mind taking a look and giving me your opinion ?"
 
Jeff made his way to the locker room in puzzlement, he thought that Eric's novel would probably only be a thousand words short story, so when he saw the thick stack of paper that made up the manuscript, Jeff's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There was definitely more than 150,000 words, in his entire life he probably hadn't even written so much !
 
He spent the lunch period busiest hours in leisure. The restaurant's staff was taken aback when they realized their boss seemed to have disappeared for several hours. For that old man who always hanged around to suddenly go AWOL, it was definitely weird.
 
When they were discussing if they should go look for him, Jeff came out from the locker room, patted Eric's shoulder and said: "Brilliant novel, you'll probably resign soon." With these words, Jeff left. Once their boss' figure disappeared, a group of people surrounded Eric to inquire about what happened.
 
And that's how, for the whole afternoon, from time to time waiters and kitchen staff members would take turns to go into the locker room to read Eric's work. A beautiful waitress even coyly asked him if she could take a it home.
 
Although Eric wasn't indifferent to the beautiful girl's flirtatious winks, he could only decline such a request. He had a few copies of the novel, and lending her one was not a problem, but before the book was published, he didn't want any untoward accidents to happen.

An advertising director is reborn in 1988 Hollywood as an eighteen-year-old blond-haired westerner named Eric Williams.

From then on, he starts writing movie scripts and television songs, becomes skilled in directing every kind of film, wins over all kinds of female celebrities, and takes the road to become a Hollywood legend.

---------------------------------------------

ATTENTION!

This is not an original novel, all rights in this story belong to JUST DO.

The translation of most chapters is done by: Elawn, Nano4bots and Sissy That Walk.

My translation will start where they have left it, my translation may not be as good as theirs but I would like it much more people to know more about this story that I liked so much.

I WANT THAT I LIKE THIS HISTORY A LOT, BUT I DO NOT AGREE TO A LOT OF THE BEHAVIORS BOTH OF THE PROTAGONIST AND SOME CHARACTERS. IN THIS HISTORY CHARACTERS OF REAL LIFE APPEAR AND I DO NOT ASSURE THAT THE DATA PROVIDED IN THIS HISTORY WILL BE TRUE.

Somewhere out there in infinity, in an alternate universe, there is a  Donald Trump, driving a taxi in an alternate not quite New York City. Not quite parallel to or in sync with the reality we know. 
 
Justice Must Be Served זבוב על הקיר - The Xhaxahka File

 In 1983 a trio of uncharming New York City scoundrels and vagabonds made fools of one of the biggest corporations in the world. They embezzled nine hundred twenty-three thousand dollars and twenty-three cents from Technicon Optics, and they did it in such a simple, even primitive way it was a major embarrassment. It was the talk of the military establishments in The Pentagon and HaKirya.
   Heads rolled at the Manahatta Corporate headquarters. 
   Technicon Optics is a joint US-Israeli high-tech outfit that's into everything from top of the line digital cameras, miniaturization, and weapons guidance systems. And now I'm into high-profile and top-secret investigations, thanks to this case. I've been making a living working on this one case since 1983.   
   Thirty-two years. I have to tell you, this case has so many subjects that are being watched now, it's hard for me to keep up with all of it. I know I'm breaking the regulations. We're not supposed to get emotionally involved in these cases. We're not supposed to get too familiar with the involved parties. But after the murder of Jared Krassnerr, one of the three original perps, the case has become a personal crusade of mine. I supervise dozens of networked self-actuating "Housefly" info drones. I have the authority to use as many house fly drones and cyborgs as I feel necessary. I have been working on it, working on it, working on it. 
   "Justitiam esse Segor" or  הצדק צריך לשרת  is The Division's motto. And we mean it. Justice Must Be Served. My name is Jon Burge. I'm originally from Chicago, CPD retired.  I'll be narrating most of this story. I've got an entirely separate investigation going on now, one that could rock the New York and  DC establishments all because of the information  I'm developing  in this case. That case is my baby and mine alone. My therapist tells me I need to have a personal life. She doesn't understand that since the dissolution of my marriage this is my personal life. I hang out in The Greek's diner, where several subjects congregate at times. I sometimes even slip into the taxi driver waiting room at Pleasant Avenue Yellow. There is such a turn over of drivers nobody there knows everyone else. Someone who doesn't belong there, but looks like he belongs there, will not be challenged. Technicon Optics has spent millions of dollars on this case. That's money spent with two laser-sharp objectives for all time - persistently, and if need be for an indefinite period of time to come: These dirt bags must be punished in an exemplary manner, and the stolen money must be recovered. Of course, the first objective could be realized with ease were there no equally important second objective. And so, expenses be damned. So here it is 2015. The latest technology we have is pretty awesome. We can inject fly larvae with the most up-to-date miniaturized technology—I can't talk much about because I'm not privy to most of this—we can turn flies, bumble bees, mammalians and fish into the most useful cyborgs. Actually, this case has spawned a whole department at Technicon Optics. We have insect-sized drones that not only can record and transmit information, but they can gather DNA samples unknown to the donor, and carry explosive charges strong enough to demolish the average-sized living room along with everyone and everything in it. I supervise a whole squadron of these babies. It's because of office politics I'm still a foot-soldier in this game, but I think I'm actually happier this way even though I watched people no more qualified than I am that were hired after me move up the ladder. 
   Early on we saw to it that one of the trio suffered a "sudden fatal massive heart attack" in the courtroom where the three were standing trial. We had thought, (or I should say the big shots upstairs had thought) this "heart attack" would scare the daylights out of the other two and help them see reason. Apparently, they didn't get the message. These jerks probably thought this "heart attack" was an actual natural occurrence. This made it even more outrageous to the boys in the corner offices - that such idiots could have made jokes of some of the greatest minds that have been born in the USA and Israel and trained at MIT and Harvard. I think you can understand, this embezzlement should not be allowed to stand. 
   The big dogs might quietly close the case knowing  neither of these three dirtbags have enjoyed the fruits of their larceny. Right now, they have the remaining suspect in check. He has lost his mind of his own volition, without much help from us. He shows every sign of paranoia. I'll be retiring in a year with a so-so 401-K. I also have a disability pension from the Chicago Police Department. I would really like to close this case before I retire. This case has practically been my life's work - more than thirty years of my life! It would be the joy of my life to see this case closed successfully with the remaining subject incarcerated, and the money returned.  What follows is the story up till now and ongoing -  the information that we have gathered .

But first some words about the author, the narrator behind the narrators Burge and Trump. 

Who I Am.
    I'm a misfit. Black Sheep of the family. I never figured out what I was going to be when I grow up. Mainly I've done jobs no one wants to do. I don't have to work now so I went ahead and wrote a novel. I drove a taxi all over my city from one end to the other and probably up and down every single block. I must have had hundreds of conversations and interactions (including a few close calls) with New Yorkers while taking them where they wanted to go. 
    Sometimes, I made wrong turns and sometimes  I didn't understand the instructions I had been given and ended up taking people where they didn't want to go. I was a "child protection" investigator for ten years. I was inside the homes of hundreds of families and learned their stories.  I had an impact on them just by being there. I was working in that job under Mayor Giuliani and during Bloomberg's first term.  
   During those gloomy times the Administration for Children's Services, the very name of it, struck terror in the hearts of New York City's poor, immigrant and Black communities. As often as not I found myself trying to protect children and families from the system and was harassed by management for trying to do my job "by the book." Having grown up in the projects I did not need this experience to learn that poor people love their children and struggle to do what's best for them. I'll tell you the truth. Working in Emergency Children's Services  I started to question the atheism I had always claimed due to the profound faith that I saw in people who from the looks of things had every reason to be angry with God.  
   My parents raised me in Queensbridge and Ravenswood projects to  empathize with the underdogs. 
    One night long ago I was driving a taxi  during  Fleet Week. The Navy was town.  I  got into a conversation with a movie director from Buenos Aires and I had a moment of  self discovery.  I  am  a cosmopolitan.  I felt I had more in common with this Argentinian movie director than  I  had with the American sailors who had recently shelled villages in Lebanon. So, I'm 73 years old. I don't have two dimes to rub together. Yet technology makes it possible for me to publish a book. 
   Trump the cabbie is trying to get his hands on the $923,000 that his friend Louie Xhaxahka and two confederates  had embezzled from an Israeli-American defense contractor. So is the man who has been trying to track this money down for thirty-two years. One by one, the three embezzlers lose their lives to violence.  The money is buried somewhere and the investigator who has been trying to track down the money has decided to go rogue. He stumbles upon a pedophile/ephebophile prostitution ring involving a Who's Who of local national and global power.  
   While this book is inspired by my real-life experiences, it is a work of fiction. The setting is in another dimension, one I can only try to imagine.  Donald Trump is a character in several works of fiction. We know that Donald Trump is President of the United States and not a thin grey-maned and bearded taxi driver with a swimmer's physique. This taxi driver Trump has dreams.  One of his dreams is to write a screenplay that would be snapped up by Hollywood.  He meets an editor from a major publisher who suggests that he start with writing a novel and that if it were successful, the book might become the movie he dreams of authoring. We  know  that  Donald Trump and his friend Sheldon Adelson are not penny-ante  poker aficionados. They are casino empresarios. 
   In some cases I touched on actual events or New York folklore involving deceased public figures' extragalactic doppelgangers, presented in fictionalized form.  Ghislaine Maxwell, daughter of Mossad asset, Robert Maxwell, is said to be a procurer who supplied young girls for Epstein and his friends to ****. The setting of the story resembles the New York City we know, but in fact, it is in a universe that is almost parallel to ours.

NARRATIVE of WARD COURIER
September, 2007
SOUTH WALES, NY

I should introduce myself. I'm Trevor Ward Courier, the voice of this book. I usually go by Ward. So you can visualize me, I'm a white guy about about six feet high and one-seventy heavy. I look like someone of my ancestry, a European mutt: Irish, Scottish, German, and English, so far as we know. I have brown hair, blue-green eyes, a sharp nose, and kind of a long skull. I am an English teacher and department chairman at an independent boarding school in rural Western New York.
I experienced a lot of what you are going to read in these pages, and when you see the word "I" or "me" in here and it's not part of a quote, the observations presented should be mine. I have a pretty good handle on the things I didn't see from interviewing some of the other players. Those I can imaginatively recreate for you, and they will be in the third person voice and often the present tense. I write those scenes as if they're happening in a film.
This is going to be two rambling, discursive books, put into one for the purposes of e-publishing. They are not going to have the tightness of the literary masterpieces I admire, ones with that sense of no word out of place and none that should be added or axed. You may even find a few typos. I keep finding them, along with awkwardnesses and blunders. But now that I've decided to write it, I have to get this story out.
This book is going to hop around in a couple of different plot tracks that took place over the span of five years. Things were happening at different times across the Americas, and from the way things came together in the end, I figured the best way to present them was in their rough chronology. A certain portion of this book, too, is comprised of my published writings exactly as they appeared, so you can see what there was in them that drew the official interest that brought me into the action. I will do my best at keeping them clear so you can keep it all straight.
I have a master's degree in British literature and know my way pretty well around European lit in general. I have a side-interest, though, that is my real niche of specialization in life: the paranormal. I'm the authority in my home region, upstate New York, though largely due my handful of books and the lack of any serious competition. I'm a reasonable scholar and interpreter of paranormal subjects and situations in general.
I have the local reputation of being a psychic detective, which I do nothing to encourage. Possibly because it is the handiest thing for people to get their heads around, it is impossible to talk people out of thinking it. I don't like false titles, but the impression certainly helps my research. I get called in on cases I would never have heard about otherwise. Lest you start getting images of the caped Dr. Strange or Dion Fortune's fictional Dr. Taverner, though, I should clarify that I am more of a historian and folklorist. I am no exorcist, either. Wouldn't touch the stuff without a Hell of a lot more training, as in, a career's worth.
There are plenty of ghost hunters in the upstate, some of them reasonably prominent. If you want an expert at running around in the dark with surveillance gadgets, any one of them would be better than I am. The upstate likewise has loads of psychics, at least people who say they are, plus UFO-geeks, exorcists, gurus, mystics, cult-leaders, spiritual healers, and representatives of just about every alternative -ism you can think of. Western New York, after all, was the home of so many alternative religious cults and communities that early in its days of white settlement it was nicknamed things like "the Burned-over District" and "the Spirit Way." It was as if the first observers thought there could have been something special about the territory itself. This is also classic Seneca country, and the insights of one of their prominent young elders is a major factor in the events these pages unfold.
I, however, am none of the above. I'm a profiler. I operate toward the paranormal with an almost Cartesian - "I think, therefore I am" - system of affirming by doubting. I'm like Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau: "I believe everything and I believe nothing." I start by presuming that everything I hear is just a report - human testimony. It can't all be true; I can't presume it's all false. I look for parallels in time, place, and tradition, and work back from there toward a consensus of likelihood. While certainty may not await us in any of these subject areas, there is a surprising amount you can learn through these means.
In matters paranormal, I record what people say and interpret what they have written. I try to make my conjecture based on broad patterns, not the testimony of single persons and certainly not on my own feelings or intuitions. I do not discount supernatural explanations for things; I merely save them for the last possibility standing. And I do not project meaning onto incoherent situations, either.
Under the pen name Mason Winfield, I've written a couple books about the supernatural-paranormal history of my home region, Western New York, as well as other books on the War of 1812 and the traditions of the upstate Native American League of Six Nations, the Iroquois/Hodenosaunee. I also have a website and publish many articles in magazines and papers in a typical year. Some people are convinced there really is a Mason Winfield. Hah. Does that sound like a real name? Mason Winfield? Who would name their kid Mason Winfield?
There are other people in upstate New York who write about paranormal subjects. My real niche is my broad base and my historic, objective take on the people, places, and events in the supernatural-paranormal past and present of my home region. If somebody wanted a crash course in the upstate paranormal, I would be the natural person to come to. If somebody wanted help interpreting any regional development that seemed related to any paranormal subject, I would typically get that first call.
One morning in September 2007 I checked my mailbox in the faculty lounge and spotted one of the notorious pink notes used to record messages for the faculty that come in through phone calls. This one was a summons to meet with Prescott Burns, our venerable headmaster, right after lunch in his office. "Prez," we called him, or "PB." There were variants among the faculty, like "Peanut Butter," and, "the Sandwich," and "PB-and-J," which of course evolved into just "and-J," sounding often like "NJ." "Talkin' to the Sandwich," one of us might say about heading to a meeting with him, or even, "Going to lunch," or "Brown-bagging it." My colleagues are inveterate nicknamers. Even people like me who don't pick up nicknames anywhere else get them here. If you're sensitive, don't work here.
Because of my initials - TWC, which I use to sign the countless passes and memos we exchange every day - I'm often referred to as "Cable Guy," after Time Warner Cable. Sometimes it's shortened to "T-Dub," or just "Cable." Sometimes it's "Larry," after the comedian, "Larry the Cable Guy." When I was a kid I went by my first name a lot, and people who have known me for a long time often call me "Trev." My mother has always called me "Trevor."
Sometimes a call to the boss' office is a trouble-sign, but I couldn't think of anything this one could be about. I hadn't skipped a study hall or gym duty, had a major fight with a student or colleague, spoken indiscreetly to a trustee, or shown up massively late for anything. At least not recently. That I could recall. I went in as a blank slate.
It was a bright afternoon about 1:45. I found PB in the little lobby of his spacious office conducting a meeting with the math chairman and the bookstore manager. He had his non-confidential meetings here.
I always liked the way PB dressed, like the classic New England headmaster. That day he had on dark grey pants, a powder blue Oxford shirt, and a brown herringbone tweed that went really well together. I could have done without the bow-tie - I've never once worn one - but that was an occasional given with PB. His full head of impeccably clipped white hair was a living landmark on the campus. It stood out against a crowd of campus walkers like a torch in the darkness. He got up when he saw me and met me at the door.
"Ward, I've got a call in from Ted Bennett. He's the head of the local FBI. He's asked me about you and I told him you're no terrorist. He'd like to speak to you in his office in the city. Can you get in there to see him sometime soon?"
"Well, sure," I said. "Any idea what it's about?"
"I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with one of your books," he said. "Sounds like a research question and he'd like to discuss it in person."
"I'll call him," I said.
"If you can do anything to help Ted out, I hope you'll give it due consideration," said Prescott Burns. "His dad was on the Pennsylvania with me when we were both just a little younger than you. And give him my best. I haven't seen him since he was in Sunday School."




Author:
Author, teacher, storyteller, and supernatural historian Mason Winfield studied English and Classics at Denison University, earned a master’s degree in British literature at Boston College, and studied poetry and fiction at SUNY Buffalo with professor emeritus and MacArthur grant recipient Irving Feldman. He has written or edited fourteen books, including the regional sensation “Shadows of the Western Door” (1997) and “Iroquois Supernatural,” co-authored with Michael Bastine, on the traditions of the Six Longhouse Nations (Inner Traditions International/Bear & Company, 2011). Several of his surveys of upstate folklore and paranormal tradition may be found at the website of Western New York Wares: www.buffalobooks.com. He may be reached at www.masonwinfield.com.

An anatomically perfect human jaw fashioned of diamond-hard quartz crystal is uncovered at an Ohio burial mound and sold on the underground antiquities market. Shortly after, three pothunters are found dead.

A mysterious new drug suspected of South American origin surfaces in Buffalo, NY. Its unprecedented psycho-tropic effects include the momentary activation of ESP. 

Blind, speechless, emaciated street people start appearing in many parts of the world. An urban legend-cycle forms around them, and the name of a murderous old cult, “the Whistlers” attaches to them.

An archaeological team at a Mayan site reports finding a bizarre artifact and vanishes. 

An upstate schoolteacher’s book of New York legends and folklore foreshadows these developments and more. 

   These are the threads – plus his affair with a maddening woman – that draw narrator Ward Courier into the international adventure of occultism, terror, Native American tradition and onrushing prophecy that is Mason Winfield’s anticipated new novel THE WHISTLERS. By the time the picture of THE WHISTLERS becomes clear, we are ready to believe in a sinister conspiracy that could predate Atlantis and even hail from another world.

On March 30, 1820, Anna Sewell was born into a devoutly Quaker family. Her mother, Mary Wright Sewell, was a successful children's book author. Sewell was mostly educated at home and did not attend school for the first time until she was twelve years old. Two years later, she seriously injured both ankles in an accident. From then on, Sewell had extremely limited mobility; she required crutches and could never walk great distances. 

SAnna_Sewellewell resorted to using horse-drawn carriages for transportation. Soon she fell in love with horses and became deeply concerned about their humane treatment. That concern led her to undertake the children's classic Black Beauty. Sewell undertook the novel not for children, but for those who cared for horses. She said her "special aim [was] to induce kindness, sympathy, and an understanding" toward equines. But when Sewell began the novel in 1871, her health was already failing. At first, she narrated the story to her mother. In 1876, Sewell began writing on small slips of paper, which her mother would then transcribe. 

Sewell completed Black Beauty in 1877, only five months before she passed away. She did, however, live long enough to enjoy the book's initial success. Though Sewell finished only one novel during her lifetime, that book has survived as a wonderful literary legacy.

Sewell is one of many legendary authors who managed to publish only a single novel during their lifetime. Here are a couple more examples of such authors.

Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar_Allan_Poe-1
One of the earliest American authors to embrace the short story, Edgar Allan Poe was a master of suspense and horror. He's credited with originating detective fiction and contributing to the evolution of science fiction. A truly prolific author, Poe was the first American author to earn his living (paltry though it sometimes was) through writing. Yet he only wrote one novel: The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket (1838). Jules Verne would later write a sequel in 1897 called An Anarctic Mystery, but also known as The Sphinx of the Ice Fields. 

Emily Brontë
Like her sisters, Emily Brontë originally published under a more androgynous pseudonym. When Wuthering Heights was published in 1847, it bore the name of Ellis Bell. The novel met with mixed reviews from critics, who mostly found the book unbelievable and even scandalous. In a later edition, Charlotte Brontë wrote a preface to the novel, defending her sister's work. Unfortunately Emily would not survive to write another masterpiece; she died of tuberculosis only a year after Wuthering Heights was published. 

Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde wrote plenty of plays and poetry, but The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890) would be his only novel. It didn't win Wilde any friends with literary critics, who called the novel everything from "effeminate" to "unclean." Always eager to please, Wilde revised the novel but directed the rest of his energies to plays and poetry. During Wilde's lifetime, he would be best known for these, but it was Dorian Gray that earned Wilde a place in the literary canon. 

Margaret Mitchell
Margaret Mitchell had never wanted to publish a novel, but then a colleague expressed doubt that Mitchell could accomplish such a feat. Gone with the Wind was published in 1936, propelling Mitchell to the exact kind of fame she had wanted to avoid. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1957. 

Gone with the Wind has remained one of the bestselling books of all time. Mitchell, who hated being in the limelight, refused to publish another novel and had little time to reconsider—she died at age 49, after being struck by a car. Her novella Lost Laysen was published posthumously in 1996. 

Ross Lockridge, Jr
Though Ross Lockridge, Jr. has yet to become a household name, the author received considerable acclaim for his first novel, Raintree County, published in 1948. The book is often considered a Great American Novel, placing Lockridge in the illustrious company of legendary authors like Mark Twain and Ernest Hemingway. Raintree County topped the New York Times bestseller list and was adapted for the silver screen in 1951. But it would be Lockridge's last work; he committed suicide only three months after Raintree County was published. 

Ellison_JuneteenthRalph Ellison
When Ralph Ellison published Invisible Man in 1952, it met with almost immediate acclaim. It won the U.S. National Book Award for Fiction in 1953. Ellison continued to write, hoping to match the success of his debut novel. But in 1967, a fire in his home destroyed Ellison's second manuscript. Ellison persevered, eventually producing a new manuscript that sprawled to over 2,000 pages. After he died, the manuscript was condensed, edited, and published as Juneteenth. 

Boris Pasternak
Boris Pasternak is remembered as a titan of twentieth-century poetry. It's no wonder that his attempt at a novel would be nothing short of spectacular—yet Dr. Zhivago (1957) was almost not published at all. The manuscript had to be smuggled out of Russia and published abroad. In 1958, Pasternak was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, and his latest novel certainly contributed to the Swedish committee's decision. Unfortunately the Russian government disapproved of Pasternak's perspective, and he was forced to decline the Nobel Prize under threat of punishment. 

Harper Lee
Since Harper Lee published To Kill a Mockingbird in 1960, it has become one of the most popular and enduring works of American literature. The novel earned the 1961 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and consistently finds its way onto school reading lists. In 2007, Lee was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her contribution to letters. Lee published a second novel the year before her death, but circumstances surrounding it are murky at best. Although Go Set a Watchman was marketed by its publisher as a sequel to Lee's magnum opus, we now know it was merely a rough draft for To Kill A Mockingbird. 

It's unclear why Lee never published again between Mockingbird and the release of Watchman, though she did spend several years on a novel called The Long Goodbye before abandoning the project. Lee has made another mark on literature thanks to her friendship with Truman Capote, whom she assisted in researching In Cold Blood. 

John Kennedy Toole
When A Confederacy of Dunces was published in 1980, it earned author John Kennedy Toole a posthumous Pulitzer Prize. The brilliant but troubled Toole had finished the novel much earlier. But the stress of consistent rejections from publishers wore on Toole, as did other aspects of his life. He committed suicide in 1969. The book was published thanks to the hard work of Toole's mother and has since been recognized as an outstanding work of twentieth-century American literature.


Happy Birthday, mommy. 
This one's for you.

With all my love,
Agatha
What happens when a non-fiction writer meets Mr. Fiction himself? The one person who will show her the other side of the world, a place that defies all her rules, where reality and fantasy collide, solving the mystery of her past. The one person she couldn't remember becomes the man she can't live without.
Julie St. Matthews is a New York Times bestseller. She collects people's experiences and turns them into words in her books.
She believes fairy tales and myths are meant for children; none of them are real. At least not to her knowledge that is, until she found a mysterious love letter in the attic one day signed with,
"Love, Mr. Fiction". 
The man who was the epitome of all things she never believed. 
Before she knew it, she was dancing with him in the dark; moving in a way that she never knew was possible. Slowly but surely, she let herself get pulled into the other side by the enchanting stranger.

Moscow.
Federal Security Service.
A man in a gray leather jacket was sitting behind an office desk. He held a fountain pen in his hand while reading a report.
Suddenly, he heard knocking sounds coming from the door.
The man looked toward the door.
"Come in."
The door was pushed open, and a skinny man walked in.
"We have our latest report from the Foreign Intelligence Service, as well as news from the Federal Space Agency," the skinny man said as he placed the document on the table. He said, "It looks like the Chinese have indeed succeeded." 
The man sitting behind the desk began to tap his finger on the table. He picked up the document and began to flip through it.
A minute passed by.
He put down the document and looked at the agent standing in front of him.
"That's all the intel we have?"
The agent nodded solemnly and continued, "The local army patrols are too strict, there are also reconnaissance aircraft patrolling at high altitudes in the surrounding airspace. It's too dangerous to get close, so we can only observe at a distance."
The man in the gray leather jacket nodded and didn't ridicule his subordinate.
He paused for a second and stood up from his desk. He grabbed the new document, as well as the previous report he was reading.
"I will report this to Mr. Vladimir. Make sure the Foreign Intelligence Service is on the lookout. If there are any new findings, report them to me immediately.
"Especially what kind of propulsion system they're using…
"I want to know what it is!"
There was one thing Lu Zhou guessed incorrectly.
Even though the ground command center did go into chaos after discovering he was missing, after they heard that Lu Zhou was safe and sound in Skyglow, the chaos disappeared.
After all, he was already on the spacecraft, there was no point panicking.
It wasn't like they could turn the space shuttle around and make him come back?
Therefore, after Hou Guang confirmed Lu Zhou's safety, he readjusted his mindset and continued to lead the command center.
5 hours and 27 minutes into the flight.
When Skyglow was passing on top of China, they made contact with CTV through the ground command center. Just like they had planned, Skyglow sent a 25-second congratulatory video on New Year's Day.
This video was originally going to be filmed by the two astronauts. But now there were more than two people on the flight. Nie Yun and Nie Yan didn't want to pretend that Lu Zhou didn't exist, not to mention Lu Zhou was keen to participate in an interesting thing like this. Therefore, the two-person video was changed to three people.
Lu Zhou waved at the camera. On behalf of all of the astronauts and the ground command staff members, he wished everyone in China a happy new year.
While Lu Zhou was sending this video to the ground command center, America, which was 13 hours behind Beijing, finally stepped into the new year.
However, countless people lost sleep last night because of the sudden news report by Columbia TV.
According to Twitter's official statistics, during the SuperBowl, almost a third of Americans were discussing the aerospace spacecraft that was launched from the other side of the globe.
This was extremely rare…
For a long time now, aerospace was America's pride and joy, it was even part of their culture. This wasn't only because Hollywood produced so many science fiction movies, but also because ever since the cold war, no one had ever surpassed the United States in the field of aerospace.
However, the successful launch of this weirdly named aerospace spacecraft destroyed that pride.
Especially when people heard that the rumored Skyglow was using ion thruster propulsion!
Everyone was in shock and disbelief…
Especially people in the aerospace industry, engineers at Space-X, Blue Origin, and so on. When they saw the news broadcast, they could hardly believe their eyes.
NASA's most advanced ion thruster propulsion could barely send an egg into the sky. Yet, Star Sky Technology, a company that produced lithium batteries, was able to fly a rocket using ion thruster propulsion?
Could there be anything more science fiction than this?
They wanted to believe that this was just an early April Fool's joke…
In addition to the engineers at Space-X and Blue Origin, the NASA employees were also having a horrible time.
This was their time to enjoy their comfortable vacation, like taking their family to Hawaii to enjoy the warm sunshine. However, because of that damn aerospace spacecraft from the other side of the Pacific Ocean, their vacation abruptly ended.
Not just this, but ever since last night, there had been countless reporters gathered at the headquarters of NASA. People coming to work the next morning had to squeeze through the reporters and their microphones, just to get in the building.
In order to get rid of these annoying reporters, NASA held a press conference as a last resort. They invited all of the reporters to the building reception hall and gave this daunting task to a freshly recruited intern.
In the midst of the chaos, the conference began.
Because there were so many reporters there, the entire reception hall was a mess.
There wasn't any time for the presenter to speak. The reporters crazily shoved their microphones and recording pens in the presenter's face.
"Hello, I'm a reporter from Columbia TV. I want to ask you, is it true that China's latest space shuttle is using an ion thruster propulsion system?"
"Does the successful launch of Skyglow mean that China has caught up with us in the aerospace field?"
"I want to know where the taxpayers' US$40 billion per year is being spent on!"
"We did receive a briefing regarding the new space shuttle launch in China. However, they didn't specify what kind of launch technology they were using," the NASA spokesperson said. He twirled a pen in his hand and quickly said, "We will keep a close eye on this matter, but that's it for now.
"But I want to say that a successful initial launch doesn't mean anything. There's also the orbital operations, return to the atmosphere, etc. The entire launch has to be completed, for this to be regarded as a successful space flight." 
There was a small commotion in the scene.
The New York Times reporter noticed a story he could twist, and he immediately reached out with his microphone and asked, "So what you're saying is that the ion thruster technology in Skyglow is going to fail on its return? Is this NASA's statement?"
"I never said that." The spokesman opened his mouth and expressed his views in an ambiguous way as he said, "We don't know whether or not Skyglow is actually using an ion thruster propulsion system. Also, the success of China's launch depends on whether the astronauts can make it back to Earth safely."
The New York Times reporter eyes' lit up.
It wasn't just The New York Times reporter, other media outlets reporters were doing the same.
The venue erupted in chaos.
Breaking news!
NASA predicts that there is a flaw in Skyglow's design, Skyglow will crash into the atmosphere?!
The spokesman on stage was sweating, he didn't know what to do.
As expected, this intern was too inexperienced.
Even though he tried to make his statements ambiguous, the reporters still decided to twist his words.
However, NASA wasn't concerned that the press conference was in chaos. Compared to how media outlets viewed this matter, they obviously cared more about how Skyglow was doing…


After suffering from a heat stroke while working under the scorching heat of summer, Lu Zhou, a hardworking but poor university student, somehow becomes the owner of an advanced technological system. With the cheat given by the system, his university life changes overnight. 
  
A Master's degree? Easy. 
  
PhD? Not a problem.   
  
From a nobody, he quickly becomes a huge celebrity in the world of science. With the missions given by the system, he is on his way to winning a Nobel Prize.   

"System, can points be exchanged for money?"
  
"No."
  
"F**k, what use are you then!?"
  
"This system will make you the ultimate scholar, the kind that lords over all of humanity. What use will money be to you?"

new york times best sellers fiction novel

new york new york

The Extraordinary Z

Exp Grind

for the author's badge

I am in Hollywood

The Xhaxahka File A Wannabe Movie Featuring Jeffrey Epstein

The Whistlers

Have a lot

ERASED BOOK 8

Scholar's Advanced Technological System

People search new york times best sellers fiction also like: