Featured

Skinwalker Ranch

The Skinwalker Ranch, a ranch property popularized by numerous books and a TV series, The Secrets of Skinwalker Ranch, is thought to be both the location of a portal or portals to alternate planes or dimensions and a center of paranormal and supernatural activity associated with indigenous lore.

My first experience with the ranch came in 2012. As an independent editor and ghostwriter, I received a manuscript from an individual who had experienced a strange series of events while driving through the area. That individual will remain anonymous due to a non-disclosure agreement we signed at the time. While on the road south of the ranch, his companion and he were allegedly accosted by three alien beings who materialized alongside the road from animated orbs or spheres of light. Later, when the two of them returned to their home in the north, this individual continued to experience paranormal events, including the presence of some entity which entered his home. Due to these experiences, he did some research and learned of the proximity of the ranch to the area in which he and his companion encountered the alien beings. Obsessed with his discovery, he started to visit the property, making multiple attempts to circumvent the guards hired by the then owner, Robert Bigelow, he of Budget Suites fame, to get on the actual ranch property itself. After years of trying to do so, he eventually managed to get to the Old Homestead, the area upon the property most associated with its strangeness.

To flesh out the narrative, I requested from this individual materials he had supporting his claims. While much of what he provided to me left me skeptical as to the whole truth of the matter, I worked to add fifteen to twenty thousand words to the manuscript and polish what I could of the original matter. A sometimes difficult individual to work with, we parted less amicably then I would have preferred. I took my fee and wished him luck, believing that when all was said and done, he’d sell a copy to family members and perhaps some friends. A year later, I went on to Amazon and was amazed to find that the narrative had sold thousands of copies and was higher up than most titles on the Amazon rankings. Despite the less than rosy relationship we shared, I reached out to him to express interest in writing a follow-up title.

Back when we parted, this individual told me that he had received a pile of documents from the guards that were working on the property for Bigelow. He told me that he had made friends with a few of them, one of whom was providing him with inside information, including the copy of actual logs completed by the guards on a routine basis and forwarded to Bigelow at his space agency, Bigelow Aerospace, which was established in 1998. He agreed, as it would boost his internet presence and his desire to be recognized as an expert on the property. Included in the documents he sent me were months of these logs, a report from Remote Viewers, a report filed by two investigators hired by Bigelow to interview locals and verify sightings, and multiple transcripts of the individual’s online and email conversations with many of these locals, and to my surprise, the wife of the couple who bought the ranch, ultimately selling it to Bigelow.

It took me a couple of months to organize the material and write the book. The individual and I agreed upon a 50-50 split of the Amazon royalties, the title published independently via KDP. Though I was not in agreement, and less experienced at the process than I am now, the title was made free for the first week, the thought being, on his part, not mine, that doing so would drive sales to his first title, which, of course, would do me no good financially. Over 4000 free copies were uploaded to Kindles that week. 4000 sales we were not going to make.

Regardless, the title sold well. We were both making our fair share of royalties, especially for an indie title, the vast majority of which barely sell a handful of copies. Within the first half-year, or so, I pitched to this individual two new ideas and started on the writing of the two books. Just as I was nearing the finish line on both, my “partner” stopped sending me my share of the royalties. With Amazon, each account can have only one name appended to it, and it is to that person’s bank account that those royalties are directed. I had to rely on him to send my share electronically to my account, which he was doing faithfully to that point and in accord with our written and signed contractual agreement.

Around Christmas or New Year, and about a year after the title was published, the payments stopped. Allegedly, my “partner” had run into financial troubles following the loss of his business, a sort of restaurant/bar/nightclub. When I reached out to him, he made some pretense of the unfairness of the agreement, as ultimately he would be responsible for the income tax on those royalties, and therefore my share was actually greater than his. He did have a point. To resolve the issue, I told him that I would self-publish the two books that I had written for him and he could assume sole rights of the title in question. He was not interested in this arrangement due to his desire to have more titles to his credit, thereby boosting his reputation as an expert on the topic. We agreed, then, that I would give him the sole rights to all three titles for $5000. Given what indie titles produce in the way of royalties, the sum was more than I could expect were I to have published those two titles, instead. And I saw no other resolution to the issue. He accepted and sent me the electronic deposit.

In the interim, one of those property guards, I’ll call him Riley, reached out to me via email. Prior to, I had no familiarity with the man, and was taken by surprise. From what he told me, my email address was appended to a message that he and the individual here of topic had shared. He was aware of my role in the publishing of those other titles, no doubt part of whatever dialogue he and the individual shared. Riley proposed to me a deal. He would tell me his story for a stated sum of compensation which he would require up front, meaning he was to have no part of the potential royalties.

Based on the success of the other titles, which though not producing six-figure royalties, when combined were producing five-figures, I thought the risk worth taking. I agreed to the sum, which I won’t state here. My one condition was that I wanted to hear part of what he had to tell first, not wanting to pay that much for a narrative that lacked interest or credibility. Needless to say, neither was the case. Riley’s story is told in the narrative Lost on Skinwalker Ranch. The narrative has sold near on 6500 copies to date.

I suspect that Riley was suffering some sort of illness, perhaps a form of cancer. I do know that following our interaction, he went down to South America. He told me he was interested in experiencing the effects of Ayahuasca, a potent brew and psychedelic resulting in hallucinogenic episodes purported to elevate one to out-of-body trips. Riley wanted me to believe he was looking for a means to return to the place he found himself in on the ranch. Perhaps so. But I believe, too, that he was seeking an alternative treatment to a stage of illness beyond the reaches of conventional science and medicine.

Since the publishing of Lost on Skinwalker Ranch, I was contacted by other individuals interested in telling their stories, some related to the Ranch and the surrounding area, and others to the indigenous lore yet strong in the Great Basin area. Three of these titles are Skinwalker Ranch: In the Shadow of the Ridge, The Muledeer Chronicles and The Airfield. Also included in these titles is The Ranch, a speculative narrative of historical fiction derived from actual events purported to have been experienced by the family last living on the ranch. While the chronology and extraneous details are mine, the actual events are all documented in various newspaper articles, pod casts, radio programs and multiple books on the subject.

All titles are available on Amazon, including a compilation of the first four titles, among them Lost on Skinwalker Ranch, titled the Skinwalker Chronicles. All titles are by Erick T. Rhetts.

The Ranch

The Ranch, by Erick T. Rhetts, available on Amazon as an E-book and paperback

As the author of multiple titles based on the infamous Skinwalker Ranch in Utah, the topic of The Secrets of Skinwalker Ranch, a television series on The History Channel, and the ghostwriter of no less than four other titles, all for the same author, to say that I have an interest in the place is an understatement.

As informed as I am as to the Skinwalker Ranch and the unexplained events associated with the property and nearby surroundings, I yet remain lacking in the actual chronology of what it was that the Sherman family experienced on that property while living there.

Not that I am at a loss to list the individual events themselves. These have been well-documented in local newspapers at the time, including the Deseret News located in Vernal, which ran a series of related articles back at the end of the ’90s. Beyond these resources, all readily available to anyone willing to do a bit of research, I had access to the transcript of an actual interview provided by Mrs. Sherman.

But this transcript is pretty much all there is to go on. The Shermans, to date, have been extremely guarded as to their experience, unwilling to go public. They have no wish to open themselves to scorn or ridicule and wish to protect their children, now well into adulthood, from the attention.

When I set out to write The Ranch, I acknowledged to myself, and then later to the readers, that the result of the narrative would be speculative. That the events are actual and documented, the narrative developing and presenting a chronology, what happened and when and the details would be the product of my own logic and reason. I knew what happened. I know the layout of the ranch. I had a general idea of the order of events. I was familiar with which one of the family members experienced those events. I am familiar with the indigenous lore relevant to the events, the property and the Great Basin. And I was in possession of numerous other interview transcripts and narratives from neighbors, security personnel hired to protect the property, and details from other investigators.

It wasn’t until I was well into the process of writing, however, that I realized I was falling into the role of a remote viewer. If you are not familiar, a remote viewer–and there are actual people who are such–has the psychic ability to be in one place and time and transport themselves psychically to another place and time. In practice, the remote viewer is placed in a dark, isolated space, a small room, for example, given pencil and paper, and left alone. Through the psychic process, and informed with just enough information to work with, the remote viewer actually goes to the place upon which he or she is focused and sees the place and goings-on psychically. He or she then may draw figures, maps, scrawl phrases, and make notes. Granted, it is a far-fetched concept, but also readily researchable by any so interested, (See Russell Targ, Harold Puthoff, Stanford).

While I did not experience psychic views, I did find the events unfolding in a way that revealed probable truths. Why did the Shermans give up so readily on a life-long dream? Surely, a near 500-acre ranch blessed with the abundance of natural resources not easily found in Utah was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and the type of property to be handed down generation after generation?

The answer might be found in Mrs. Sherman’s own words when explaining why they sold the ranch to Robert Bigelow. She said, and I’m paraphrasing, the actual words available in one of the books for which I was the ghostwriter, she was reluctant to sell to a family that had young children. What did she mean? Was it the events that posed a risk? Possible, but I don’t think so. While the events were strange, odd, alien, unexplainable, none of them ever put any one at risk, other than, perhaps, the family dogs. But even then, no known autopsy or test was ever recorded verifying that the greasy substance found, supposedly the remains of the dogs, has ever surfaced.

Mrs. Sherman, I believe, was more concerned about the isolation of the property and the effect it was having on her children’s social well-being and development. As large as the property is and as removed its location from neighbors and towns, the opportunity to make friends and socialize surely were limited.

In addition, the occupation of ranching is not necessarily a lucrative one, requiring labor 24/7 and not lending itself to the hiring of many ranch hands, especially at the beginning stages. The loss of even a few head of cattle, regardless of method, is not easily absorbed financially. At some point, Mr. Sherman must have been feeling the pinch, even overwhelmed by the stress we all feel when confronted with the piling up of expenses. This would explain, then, why Mr. Bigelow’s offer, somewhere around $250k, seemed appropriate at the time, when clearly, even back in the late 90s, a property like that might have commanded significantly more.

So, while The Ranch is a speculative narrative, and not meant to be otherwise, the reasons why the Shermans sold the ranch and abandoned a life-long dream might not be the ones suggested by their experiences on the property, but ones more mundane.

Read The Ranch and draw your own conclusions.

Bethany Broom

Bethany Broom is the main character in the King Tree novels, of which there are three, currently: Into the Four Lands, Back to the Four lands and Beyond the Four lands. Each, also, has a sub-title: Altars of Fire and Water, Altars of Earth and Stone and Altars of Wind and Ice, all by Erick T. Rhetts and available through Amazon, both as an ebook and paperback.

Bethany is a fourteen-year-old from Howington, a fictional upstate New York town. She resides with her grandmother Rebecca, an octogenarian who appears to be anything but. And that is a key to the novel’s plot.

A ninth-grader, Bethany deals with the usual issues that concern teens, one of which is her larger than Barbie Doll size. Her neighborhood friends include Scottie-a boy a year older, Dennis-a source of some confusion, and Elena, who lives across the pond.

When only two-years of age, Bethany’s mother, Siobhan, mysteriously disappeared. Her father, a good man, ultimately moves on and remarries. The marriage, to Kim, produces twin boys, Bryan and Reid. While Bethany loves her half-brothers as only an older sister can, she and Kim share no warmth.

Shortly after the birth of the twins, Bethany’s father agrees at Kim’s insistence to move closer to the city, leaving Bethany to live with Rebecca. Nevertheless, Bethany’s relationship with her father remains strong, as does his with Rebecca. His visits back upstate to see Bethany are often and extended. The narratives starts when he and Kim, off on a business trip out of the country, arrive to Howington to drop the twins off for the summer.

No more than a couple of days into the visit, and following some strange events, both Bryan and Reid go missing. The clue to their disappearance is strange footprints leading to and from an old majestic tree in the middle of the woods behind Rebecca’s house–the King Tree.

Not as alarmed as she should be at the boys disappearance and failure to return, Rebecca reveals to Bethany secrets she has kept to herself since she came to Howington those many years past, one of which is that she is from a land apart and the King Tree is the way back there. Keeping the details to a minimum, Rebecca suggests to Bethany that the boys have been kidnapped as a ploy to get her to go back to that land apart, the Four Lands. Further, that it is Bethany who has what it will take to get Bryan and Reid back.

Rebecca tells Bethany that she believes Bethany may be strong in the Knowing, a gift bestowed on only a special few from the Four Lands, and even less in its fullness. She admits to Bethany that she herself has the gift but not in its fullness. She then tells Bethany about the altars and the role they will play, if Bethany is to rescue Bryan and Reid.

Into the Four Lands and the novels that follow are Bethany’s story as she seeks out the altars and learns to use the Knowing.

More to follow…

The launch angle, a misguided approach

Launch angle refers to the angle at which a batted ball leaves the bat and is inclusive of the trajectory the ball then follows. The laws of physics establish that a ball with a thirty-degree trajectory off the bat, all things equal, travels the furthest. MLB and its fans love the homerun.

Based on this observation, baseball metrics and analytics advocates have used their upper-management influence to pervert the science of hitting, insisting that all hitters seek to produce a thirty-degree launch angle. To do so, hitting coaches engage their hitters in drills that reinforce an upper-cut swing.

An upper-cut swing is one in which the barrel of the bat begins beneath the trajectory of the pitched ball, then comes up to the contact point and extends through contact in a continuous upward trajectory.

Simple logic dictates that if the pitched ball is on a downward trajectory and is connected squarely on the barrel of a bat traveling in an upward trajectory, one which ostensibly matches that of the pitched ball, that the launch angle of the ball off the bat will produce the desired result, which is a trajectory of flight with a high likelihood of leaving the confines of the field or, at least, beating the outfielders.

But the concept of getting the ball in the air is nothing new, nor is the three-run homerun. Baseballs have been climbing into the air off bats since the inception of the game. Advanced technology and data analysis aren’t needed to establish nor to reinforce the physics of a ball in flight, whether it be in the approaching pitch or the exiting contact. In that regard, nothing has changed.

There is an accepted “law” that events that can be measured can be changed. Measurement provides a means of breaking down and quantifying the individual events that make up the swing. As these events are sequential, each can be observed and quantified in isolation. Then an overall assessment can be made as to how a preceding event influences the one to follow, and how the whole is ultimately affected.

In terms of launch angle, the hitter is encouraged to initiate the swing–the launch of the barrel–by dropping the bat head to a horizontal point beneath that of the approaching pitch, then come up to contact point, thereby “squaring contact” below the equator of the ball and lifting it.

While theoretically this approach is sound, in reality it is flawed.

If MLB was arc-pitch softball, there’d be no argument. But it isn’t. MLB pitchers are trained to and practiced at producing movement, particularly change in plane, both horizontally and vertically: run, cut and sink.

Why is this a problem for hitters, and especially those who focus on producing the “ideal” launch angle?

Primarily, velocity and late and sharp movement.

A MLB hitter has somewhat less than .04 seconds to react to a pitched ball, the average MLB velocity of which is a tick below 93 mph, and against pitchers who commonly throw 95+. (See: https://blogs.fangraphs.com/fastball-velocities-are-already-up/). Then, MLB pitchers, especially starters, have a mix of secondary pitches, each designed to move in plane and/or travel off-speed.

The hitter finds himself in a state of contradiction. He must be quick to start his swing and at the same time keep his hands back until he recognizes the pitch and can predict with some degree of certainty what it is going to do.

The “launch angle” approach requires a longer pathway to the ball. The barrel of the bat has to first drop down deep in the load before it begins to come forward to the intended contact point. This means the hitter, to time the fastball, has to start early. Which is the primary reason why so many ill-advised swings are observed batter to batter, swings at pitches that bounce before the plate, wind up in the opposite batter’s box, or leave the impression that the hitter otherwise had his eyes closed.

Next, the hitter makes himself susceptible to pitches up in the zone. Unlike fielding, it is significantly easier to bring the barrel of the bat down to contact than up to it, especially when the pitch is traveling in the upper 90s. But even at lower speeds, those more in line with amateur ball, starting low and moving up to contact suggests more length to the swing: distance equates to time. And in this case, too much of it.

Perhaps you’ve heard the expression “dropping the bat head on the ball.” It’s exactly what it sounds like and requires minimal effort, since the action is technically assisted by gravity. Well, going up to get the pitch is simply the opposite and requires an adjustment that adds to the swing sequence. Watching the Shriners Games, I saw three batters in a row strike out, all with multiple swings starting below the plane of the pitch. By the time each could get the bat head to the contact point, the ball was already past. Had they been on plane to begin with, contact would have been inevitable.

Launch angle, in combination with increased pitcher velocity, has led to hitters reinforcing a particular swing path, which is done through repetition, primarily on soft-toss and tee drills. It’s a muscle-memory thing. The body “memorizes” a firing sequence, in terms of the swing path, which it produces automatically, a stimulus-response pattern without operation–the absence of pitch recognition and adjustment to that swing path. It is this inability to adjust that has led to the marked increase in strikeouts and a lack of balls put into play.

While the emphasis on launch angle has produced an increase in homeruns, it has also marginalized those hitters who are not by nature power hitters. Instead of focusing on contact by letting the ball get deeper, barrel awareness and using all parts of the field, thereby hitting for average, they are encouraged/coached to lift and pull, the result of which, more often than not, is weak groundballs (contact on top of the ball) and warning-track flyouts (contact beneath the ball). Neither effective nor entertaining, these players are readily dismissed by both team management and fans.

Developing a launch angle that is initiated with the hands high at the launch point, the hips pre-set to contact, and the barrel of the bat either straight up and down or slightly cocked maximizes not only the potential for contact, but also that the bat’s path to contact will be short and powerful. Contact slightly beneath the equator of the ball will produce the desired backspin and launch angle. Backspin creates a cushion of air beneath the ball that maximizes its time in the air, and the launch angle provides a trajectory favorable to distance.

Focus on launch angle, in terms of pulling and lifting the ball, is not the way to go about things if a young hitter has aspirations of playing at the higher levels of the game. Instead, first develop barrel awareness, pitch recognition and to master the launch point. If the homerun is to come, it will come of its own.

A Realistic Approach to Coaching Amateur Baseball

Thanks to a friend of mine who I’ve known for going on forty years–all through baseball, I had the opportunity to go down to the Dominican Republic and spend some time in a number of MLB baseball academies. These included the Chicago Cubs, Minnesota Twins, Houston Astros, Arizona Diamond Backs, Seattle Mariners and the Philadelphia Phillies.

All of these academies are located along the south/west extent of the nation, in towns near Santo Domingo: Boca Chica, Juan Dolio, Via Mella and San Pedro de Marcorís, are a few. Of course, any fan of baseball knows the contribution that the Dominican Republic has made to Major League Baseball.

There’s a saying down in those parts. It goes like this: “You can’t walk off the island.” When applied to baseball, it means simply that to get to La Liga Grande, you have to have and develop real physical skills (the five tools of baseball).

Prior to having this experience, I coached my teams the same way most coaches do here in the States. We focus on and emphasize the strategies employed (at least when the game wasn’t just home runs) at the Major League Level. We work at dictating the actions of our players and attempt to choreograph the action.

It’s not done that way in the Dominican Republic. At the amateur levels–all of which are geared to advancing as many players as possible to the academies, it’s all about physical skills, the five tools. There are little to no strategies. There are little to no signs.

Rarely will you see a hitter, at any age, taking pitches. Coaches don’t give take signs. No hitter has as a plan of attack to get deep into the count. The batters swing…at just about everything. Why? Because you can’t walk off the island. You have to hit your way off.

No young hitter learns to hit by taking pitches. You learn to hit by trial and error. You learn to hit from immediate feedback, one pitch, one swing to the next. If you as a coach wish to give your hitters the best chance at developing their skill as a hitter, let them swing. Three-oh, two-oh, oh-two: it doesn’t matter, not in the sense of player development. In fact, at least in the first five innings (assuming a seven inning game), tell your hitters that if they walk, you’ll take them out of the game and put someone in who wants to hit. (Then use common sense.)

Does this strategy lead to “wins?” In all honestly, no. But winning is not what it is all about. It’s about giving your BEST players the chance to develop. I’ll give you a little story. I was down in the DR with a team of fourteen-year-olds. We were playing on field in the middle of a small town just west of San Pedro de Marcorís, across the street from a military school. We were winning–not that it matters. The Dominican team had a couple of runners on base. So what did the Dominican coaches do? They replaced the hitters lower in the line-up, those who were scheduled up, with the three and four hitters. We got the three hitter out. We got the four hitter out. And then the three hitter got up again. Understand what was happening? Were they trying to win? Yes. But more significantly, they were giving there best hitters additional at-bats against our best pitchers. Why? Not necessarily to win, but to give the quality opportunities to the two players with the most potential and the best odds at moving up the proverbial ladder.

With regard to pitchers: They are encouraged to throw everything hard–all fastballs. And it doesn’t really matter where the pitches go. Control is not as emphasized as is velocity. The idea is that you can learn control; you can’t learn velocity. If you are a pitcher, you need to get over ninety on the gun, or you’re not going to get into an academy.

In that same vein, outfielders do not concern themselves with cut-off men or relays, not at the pre-academy levels. While a coach might appreciate the right-fielder who consistently hits the cut-off man, the scouts buzz about the right-fielder who throws the ball over the third baseman’s head and into the eighth row of the stands. Through practice, you can teach an outfielder to get the ball down. You can’t teach him to throw a ball three-hundred fifty feet.

When a hitter reaches first base–any base, for that matter, he immediately takes off for second on the first pitch. No coach blinks an eye if he gets thrown out. He gets a pat on the head and encouragement to try again the next time. Reckless? Maybe. But you don’t get to show off your running prowess by standing pat.

So, as a coach, do you not teach the fundamentals of the game? Of course not. But if you want your most skilled players, those who are most physically capable, to catch the eyes of the scouts, you have to encourage them to throw hard, throw far, swing often, and run as fast as they can as often as they can.

Teach outfielders to throw to the base. If their arms are strong enough, eventually they’ll learn to keep the throw down enough to be cut. That said, I’ve seen Mookie Betts unload to third at elevation that no cut-off is going to get a glove on but get the out.

Allow the players who can run to steal at will. Those that can outrun the throw, they’re the ones who will get noticed.

Encourage hitters to swing, often. Each swing is an opportunity for feedback: timing, swing path, ball movement, and mechanics.

Don’t give take signs. Give feedback based on results. Let someone else coach the bases. You need to be immediately available to a player when he gets back to the bench.

Encourage pitchers to develop both the four-seam and the two-seam fastball and to throw them 85% of the time. Pitch them only three innings (or so) at a time, and keep it to no more than 55-60 pitches. Long-toss, long-toss, long-toss. [I realize there is this new theory that long-toss does more damage than good. But that is ridiculous. The full-range of muscle must be developed to maximize potential and to protect the labrum. The key is not to over-do it.]

Finally, put your fielders where their skills will get them most noticed. Put the athletic shortstop with the great glove, first step and speed, but average arm (meaning he’s not going to touch 90+) in centerfield or behind the plate, instead. Or if he has the bat, at third. Don’t be afraid to put your best athlete behind the plate. There is dearth of catchers out there, and it is a shortcut to the Pros. If you have a kid with a gun, get him on the mound. Ninety-plus gets you to the Pros. It really doesn’t matter what the kid’s preference is, or that of his parents. You’re the coach, the one with the eye. It might take some convincing, but the goal is to put the player in the position in which he can most showcase his skills and tools.

Take the time and digest what you’ve read. Winning has its place; I’m not saying it doesn’t. High School varsity teams that consistently win have a better chance of landing their players on college rosters. College teams that win have a better chance of attracting the best players. I get all that. But, and as a last word on the matter, the best amateur tournament teams in the country–the Georgia Bulldogs, the Florida Bandits and the Cincy Flames, just to name a few–bring their players together from all around the country, rarely, if ever, practice together, and go into tournaments not with the objective of winning, but to showcase their players in the most competitive environment possible.

Coach to develop your BEST players as your primary goal. And that means they have to showcase their best attributes at every opportunity. After all, you can’t walk off the island!

Erick T. Rhetts, The Shadow Walkers

Before I sat down to write The Shadow Walkers, I was thinking along the lines of traditional horror. The setting, I had already decided, was to be the long-since abandoned property of the Pilgrim State Psychiatric Center in Long Island, a collection of derelict buildings with a lingering and dark history. Opened in 1931, the purpose of the facility was to treat mental patients, including the extensive use of a medical procedure known as a lobotomy in which a sharp implement was inserted up the nasal passage through the nose and part of the patient’s brain was cut out and extracted.

The initial challenge came from the first scene that I imagined. I saw an empty house, a part of a neighborhood development built upon the Center property. The home was that of a typical family: mom, dad and two kids. They disappear without a trace. A concerned neighbor alerts the authorities. The police respond, a basic patrol car, and as there are no overt signs of distress, the cops request the presence of a superior officer, as per departmental procedure. Based on the degree of concern expressed by the neighbor, the officer makes the decision to enter the house. To his surprise, he finds the door not locked and no sign of forced entry. Inside the house, there are no signs of violence, and in fact, everything looks normal.

But herein was the first obstacle: A developer bought a large part of what was left of the Pilgrim State property back in the early 2000s, and though it wasn’t until about 2015, or so, that the sale was approved by the Town, his development plan did not include single-family homes. How could I have families disappearing without an trace from single-family homes that weren’t going to be built?

A little bit of research solved the problem, as long as I was willing to embellish a little. Beneath the dozens upon dozens of buildings that made up the center’s network ran a series of subterranean tunnels. Depending on how much you want to read into it, they were used for maintenance, as aqueducts and even to move patients from one building to the next. I used the idea of them to “connect” the hospital grounds to the surrounding and already existing neighborhood. This led to the development of the scene with Enzo, the construction worker whose crew was developing what is now the property of the west campus of Suffolk Community College and a park operated by the Town of Brentwood. Then as “It,” the at-that-point only partially-conceived creature/monster, grows and becomes stronger, I eventually do get to those single-family homes, particularly the one belonging to the unfortunate Curran family, and then to Tyler Hoek.

Continued…part 2:

The intended first scene of the novel didn’t work itself into the narrative until late in the final draft, chapter eight, in fact. The first take on that scene had two youngsters, the children from that improbable house, coming upon a driver changing a tire. I was thinking the South Spur running alongside Southern State Parkway, somewhere around Carleton Avenue, was the ideal spot. It was to be nighttime, of course, and the two kids imbued with the power of the entity.

But I was faced with multiple questions. Why would the entity need surrogates to do its killing? And once these surrogates did the killing, how would that entity benefit from it? I already said that I didn’t want the traditional monster. I didn’t want a monster at all. I’m not a good vs. evil kind of person, and I don’t believe there is an innate evil, not in beasts and not in people. Sociopaths and psychopaths, yes. Evil, as in the Contrary Man and his sycophants, no.

So, I came up with the quantum angle. The entity, still well into the writing not yet fully-conceived, meaning, I the writer still didn’t know what it was or what it looked like, took sustenance not from flesh but from the burst of energy created when upon dying the living being’s connection to the cosmic consciousness is broken. I know, it sounds a bit much. But it works in the novel.

Of course, I still had to iron out the proximity angle. How would the entity gather in that burst of energy if it was removed physically from the moment of death? That’s why I ultimately abandoned, reconceived and repositioned this scene, and how the idea of the tunnels beneath Pilgrim State started to become a bigger part of the plot. It was down in those tunnels where it, the entity, would lure his surrogates and his victims. How I get them both there, well, that requires reading the novel. Poor Charlie Re.

The quantum angle

Having written Lost on Skinwalker Ranch, I was well-familiar with the concept of portals and alternate planes, as well as with some of the Native American lore about skin walkers. But I also learned of a particular shadow walker referred to as Mr. Marcus. When I sat to write The Shadow Walkers, Mr. Marcus was not more than a passing thought, as was the ranch. But I liked the idea of alternate planes and someone that could move between them at will.

And so was “born” John Beezer, one of the main characters and himself, though neither he nor the reader knows as much as the narrative begins, a shadow walker. I wanted a sort of prologue-like chapter to open the book. I needed a way to bring the entity into our plane, and chose Little Frankie, the thirteen-year-old son of John Beezer’s neighbors, to serve that need. I had decided at this point that the entity had to anchor itself to the “cast-off” self of a living being, but that living being had to be brain-dead, meaning a breathing organism with no consciousness, sort of like a coma or something deeper. Little Frankie was written to fill that role. His was a brief cameo, but a necessary one.

Continued: (part 3)

At this point, the narrative becomes tiered. The shadow walker, Mr. Marcus, and the entity, needed to be tied-in. That was never part of the original impetus for the story. But the concept of different or alternative planes invited Mr. Marcus along. [There’s a whole chapter dedicated to Mr. Marcus and how his extraordinariness (is that a word) came about.]

Shadow walkers have made their way into many stories and movies. But they are rarely explained. My shadow walkers are manipulators of ordinary people, game players, as it were. Bored with near-immortality, the shadow walker gets his entertainment by imposing on the lives of others, those who are mere mortals, putting up obstacles and sitting back and watching as the individual imposed upon reacts.

In The Shadow Walkers, Mr. Marcus accidentally stumbles upon John Beezer, who at the time is seventeen going on eighteen. It is the entity that recognizes John for what he is, and it is in this way that Mr. Marcus comes to John. Admittedly, in the narrative, this string is not as thick or as well-anchored as it might be, but it holds up its part of the weight.

The shadow walker is an alpha being, which is to say a repository of the ideal of what a human being might be, plus every particle of ancestral (DNA) memory passed down from man’s simplest beginnings to what it is that man might evolve into were the conditions to allow, say, a process projected an infinite timeline into the future. (It is an ideal, after all.)

The shadow walker can move between planes because he “interprets” all matter not only in waves but particles. Everything is pixelated; all space is the same space. It is this concept that allows for the plane upon which John confronts the bear-man, meets Aliera and together they have a son, Evan, and a daughter, Adana. It is also this scene, which came about in a fully organic matter, that sets up the sequel and John’s revenge.

Continued: part 4

The base theory for The Shadow Walkers is that all living things are antennae receiving the waves/particles of energy emitted by the ever-expanding universe, much in the same way as do dish antennae, for example, catch TV signals, as do cell phones, and other such technology, do 4G and 5G signals. This reception is consciousness. How each living thing as to its kind interprets these signals is relative to the physical brain and, of course, situational settings. This would explain our differences when it comes to individual people. We each have capabilities and abilities due to our physical differences, which include brain power. In a way, the idea, at least as far as the shadow walker goes, draws on the (somewhat mistaken) belief that we, as humans, use only a small percentage of our brain matter.

This antennae concept is inclusive of the rationalization that we never really die. While our physical bodies clearly do, every one of our thoughts, memories, and experiences, all of which have mass and consist of particles, return to join the flow of energy constantly emitted by the ever-expanding universe, and are, therefore, perpetually a part of the shared consciousness we all interpret. Think of it as ancestral memory or atavistic intelligence. As fantastic as the idea might seem, it does provide us as humans some assurance of an after-life, as it were.

The idea isn’t all that far-fetched. If everything is made up of particles and waves, and that particles behave as waves and waves as particles, depending on the perspective at the moment, and all space is the same space, and all things of matter share the same space, it is not at all irrational to believe that we really never leave. Does it really matter that we are never again we when everyone is really of the same consciousness? It is being that matters, that we are who we are at the moment that we are. It is the comfort of self that gives us present perspective, and it is that comfort that we cherish and wish to hold onto.

What we fear in death is the loss of self.

Part V: The detective story

The Shadow Walkers, at heart, is a horror/paranormal tale. However, the development of Stan Beezer as an essential character gives it, too, that detective story flavor. There is a series of crimes committed, and Mr. Marcus does his best to stitch them together, and thereby pull Stan deeper into the game. It is the danger that Stan faces personally that obligates John to play, too. And that is Mr. Marcus’ aim. The confrontation scene between John Beezer and the entity is a quantum lover’s dream.

The growth of Stan as a character was as organic as that of John, and that of the entity, constantly referred to as “it” in the story–all pardons please, Mr. King. That is to say that none of it was outlined or planned. Stan, as did the others, grew of his own inclination. As his personality developed, so did the scenes into which he steps. By the end of the novel, while he is not the main character, his role is significant and worthy of a continuing part of consequence in the upcoming sequel.

Ultimately, Stan does not solve the crime. His brother John reveals to him all the behind-the-scene details well-known to the reader, and then goes so far as to counsel him on the best way to package those details to keep Tyler Hoek from being charged with man-slaughter and Alicia Curran from learning of her own gruesome behavior.

Hopefully this insight into the development of The Shadow Walkers will serve as an appetizer to those looking for something off-beat and out of the ordinary to read. The novel is available in both ebook and paperback through Amazon. The name on the cover is Erick T. Rhetts. Feel free to solve the anagram. (It is pretty obvious, after all.)

As an Indie writer, I thank you in advance for any interest you might show in my titles.

Get to know your blogger

I am a fan of both baseball and fiction writing. My goal for this blog is to promote both, with a admittedly self-serving hope of encouraging readers to engage with my titles. As an independent publisher–Indie publishing, as it is called, the challenge is in promoting and getting word out about the work.

I publish my fiction under the name Erick T. Rhetts. My most popular titles are based on actual events, but fall short of being called non-fiction, primarily because of the fantastic nature of the narratives. These narratives are based on Native American lore and the UFO-type sightings often reported in and around Native American sovereign land.

The most popular title is Lost on Skinwalker Ranch. The narrative is that of an actual guard once employed on the property given by the locals the name Skinwalker Ranch. That property has recently been the subject of a docu-series presented by the History Channel.

Since Lost on Skinwalker Ranch, I’ve written and published three other narratives directly related to the ranch and the concept of the skinwalker. Each of the narratives is based on actual events shared with me by the individuals whose story they tell. The first of the three is called Skinwalker Ranch: In the Shadow of the Ridge. The second is The Muledeer Chronicles. The third is The Airfield.

There are more titles that have come since, and while some deal with skinwalkers, all tend toward the paranormal and horror. The most recent is The Shadow Walkers, a novel. The others are Hungry, Sophia, Revelations: End, and a three-novel fantasy tale known as the Bethany Broom series. They are: The King Tree, Altars of Fire and Water; The King Tree, Altars of Earth and Stone; and The King Tree, Altar of Wind and Ice.

My blogging will also focus on baseball, primarily from the perspective of coaching and skill development. My knowledge of the game comes from extensive experience as a player, coach, trainer and clinician. I’ve worked with and alongside dozens of professionals, including as a director of the Bucky Dent Baseball School and The Bud Harrelson Baseball School. I’ve had the good fortune of coaching and training multiple players who have gone on to sign professional contracts, including two current members of the New York Mets.

I hope you’ll join me on a frequent basis and that you will feel free to participate in conversation and influencing of future blogs.