Okay, Day two of War of the Worlds. Hope you're enjoying this. While you're reading this new short novel, I'm already working on the idea for a new story, which I will tease some ideas about as we get to the midpoint of this one.

Also, if you haven't already done so, take a look at the Nugget section of my blog. I'm posting pictures and information on well known and perhaps not as well known authors who have influenced me over the years, and whom I think you might enjoy reading.

Best.

John

NOW ONTO: WAR OF THE WORLDS

   “Jules, a man of Letters will go much further in the modern world, than a Chef. Perhaps someday there will come a time when a Chef will be seen by all the world and then his fame will occlude that of a writer, but that seems an impossibility at this time.” She said brightly.

    Jules immediately perked up, his head full of ideas, just like their oven was filled with cup cakes at that time. “Imagine this, Mom, a device that will hold a man’s face within it and project it around the world so everyone can see it.”

    His mother had given him a hug of delight. “You’re so creative, Jules. No matter what you choose to do, I know you will be a success, and no matter you choose I will love you no more and no less.” She said proudly, then leaned closer to whisper. “But don’t tell your dad that, he’ll use it against me.”

    At the time Jules didn’t know what she meant, but as the years peeled away from his youth and his adventures grew, he came to understand the meaning of many things which had eluded him in his youth.

    Jules fondness for his mother was only exceeded by his fondness for inventing. He and his sister, Chenie, as he called Chenelle, would go out back into the tool shed and weasel various components of old stoves, pipes, bolts, wire, and whatever they could find and make things. Their father and mother thought it unusual for them to take on such a hobby, as most siblings, especially male and female didn’t want to be together so much, but Jules and Chenie were like hand and glove.

    One day they proudly built a new kind of dog house. It was built so that wherever the dog was a door in it could open. They called it the automatic dog house. Jules and Chenie sat in front of their  house one weekend and tried to sell it. Their father and mother watched from the bedroom balcony with amusement, until one elderly gentleman stopped to take a look at the house. His face was all red and puffy from his exertions. He was quite overweight. He listened to the children explain what the device was for, then he took out a card and handed it to Chenie, and then one to Jules. Next, he gave them each ten francs. Whistling, he gathered up the doghouse under one arm and walked off.