As the year comes to a close I was thinking about past New Years Eve's, where have I spent them, who was I with and which are my favorites.
For me a New Years spent in Venice, my favorite city, and one of the primary locations in Slow Boat to Purgatory, stands out as my all time favorite. Standing outside Hotel Danieli watching the fireworks over the bay, my wife at my side, surrounded by people from all over the world. Truly epic.
What are your favorite New Years locations? Leave a comment and follow the blog and my dear friend, Author Paige Pendleton, will pick the most interesting New Years location and the winner will receive a free e-book copy of Slow Boat To Purgatory
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Nice Review from Pete Morin, Author
Pete Morin, author of Diary of a Small Fish, wrote a nice review of Slow Boat To Purgatory:
"It takes a very brave - some might say reckless - novelist to attempt a story of such magnitude as this - giving life to Good and Evil in an eternal battle for our souls. Vernon Baker has done quite an impressive job at it in this riveting epic tale spanning almost a thousand years.
Imagine the task of describing a scene at the gates of Hell, where a soul lost is delivered. Or of purgatory. Or the gates of Heaven. And doing it in the voice of a man from the 13th century, or the 16th century. Baker did not shrink from that task. As far as I'm concerned, he succeeded well.
This is a fantastical tale, no doubt - but Baker is able to pull us along, disbelief suspended sufficiently to go willingly.
I do think there were signs of exhaustion slipping into the prose on occasion. Some word ghosts and repetition, a bit of slipping out of the age and such.
But they were momentary distractions.
This is a novel very much worth reading!" Four Stars
Pete is getting rave reviews for his novel Diary of a Small Fish. I haven't read it yet but it is in my cue and I will be posting a review as soon as I read it.
"It takes a very brave - some might say reckless - novelist to attempt a story of such magnitude as this - giving life to Good and Evil in an eternal battle for our souls. Vernon Baker has done quite an impressive job at it in this riveting epic tale spanning almost a thousand years.
Imagine the task of describing a scene at the gates of Hell, where a soul lost is delivered. Or of purgatory. Or the gates of Heaven. And doing it in the voice of a man from the 13th century, or the 16th century. Baker did not shrink from that task. As far as I'm concerned, he succeeded well.
This is a fantastical tale, no doubt - but Baker is able to pull us along, disbelief suspended sufficiently to go willingly.
I do think there were signs of exhaustion slipping into the prose on occasion. Some word ghosts and repetition, a bit of slipping out of the age and such.
But they were momentary distractions.
This is a novel very much worth reading!" Four Stars
Pete is getting rave reviews for his novel Diary of a Small Fish. I haven't read it yet but it is in my cue and I will be posting a review as soon as I read it.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Shroud of Turin
Click link below for article...
The Shroud of Turin is real!
The Shroud of Turin, is it the burial cloth of Jesus of Nazareth? Is it a fraud? How did the image, the unmistakable image of a man with injuries eerily similar to those said to have been suffered by a crucified Christ, come to be made?
I read this article with great interest. Why you ask? Well, The Shroud of Turin makes an appearance in "The Arimathean", the followup to Slow Boat to Purgatory.
The history of the shroud is full of intrigue, mystery and gaping holes in its chain of possession. The circumstances of its discovery are murky at best. Was it discovered by Templars? Perhaps stolen from the ashes of Constantinople? How old is it really? Irresistible fodder for your's truly.
Below is a snippet from "The Arimathean", an excerpt that just happens to dovetail nicely with this article.
Turin Italy, October, 13 1988
The press conference was held in a bland, anti-septic, room which belayed the history and importance of the subject matter at hand.
Four men sat behind a table with thin stacks of paper arranged in front of them. One of the men was dressed in the robes of a catholic bishop, the other three, all professorial in appearance, were dressed in suits and ties. Microphones and tape recorders had been placed on the table in a haphazard way. Approximately thirty reporters were crammed into the room which further served to impart the impression of a hastily called but somewhat important news conference.
Six hundred miles away, in the Saint Germain district of Paris, in a room three levels below the ground floor of an elegant Mansion, eight men were gathered in much more gentile surroundings. Comfortable leather chairs had been set facing a large television which sat upon an ornate mahogany table. The room was dark except for the light put off by the television and from a fire crackling within a large fireplace behind the assembled group.
The smell of cigars and the sound of clinking ice in fine crystal imparted a wholly different atmosphere from that of the news conference. All eight men sat watching the television in rapt attention.
A continent away, behind non-descript walls of mud and brick in the center of Marrakesh, another television was tuned to the same news conference. The space behind the walls contained one of the city’s oldest dwellings, a place of stunning beauty and architecture.
The television was set on a long, low bench. It sat along one wall of a courtyard set in the middle of the riad. A fountain, protruding from the opposite wall of the courtyard, spilled water into a mosaic-tiled pool. Intricate patterns and phantasmal creatures were depicted by the tiles and shimmered in radiant colors below the surface of the water.
The pool was surrounded by tropical plants and trees in a variety of pots and vases. A large citrus tree, laden with bright orange orbs, dominated one corner of the courtyard and below its spreading branches pillows and cushions were arranged on an exquisite oriental carpet.
Three levels of balconies rose above the courtyard giving way to a square of purple sky tinged with streaks of orange and gold as the sun began it’s ascent from behind the Atlas mountains.
Three men sat on the array of cushions and pillows, laid out in front of the television, sipping hot tea. A fourth man stood on a rooftop terrace above the courtyard his ears tuned to the competing calls of the muezzins, his gaze on the snowcapped mountain peaks that towered in the distance.
At precisely 12:00 p.m. the bishop, seated at the table before the reporters, cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him.
“Good afternoon and thank you for joining us today. My name is Bishop Sergio Orviestre. I am the bishop of Turin. I am joined today by Dr. Marcel Janey, the head of forensic science at the University of Paris. Also with me today is Dr. Phillip Blance, the head of the medieval antiquities department at the London Musuem of Natural history, as well as Dr. Wilhelm Francks who is the world’s foremost authority on the science of Carbon Dating.
“As you know we have collectively been overseeing what has come to be known as “The Shroud Project”. It has been our goal though the use of the most current and advanced technologies, including Carbon 14 dating, to ascertain once and for all the approximate age of what is commonly known as the shroud of Turin.
“I will now defer to Dr. Janey who will give us the results of the testing.”
Dr. Janey paused for a moment to take a sip of water from a glass in front of him.
“This study could not have happened without the generous assistance of the diocese of Turin, the keepers of the shroud, who allowed us to remove a series of small pieces from the shroud with which to conduct our testing and research.
“It has been six long months but we have reached a conclusion that we believe to be definitive and without flaw.
“Dr. Francks will now explain the results.”
“Thank you, Marcel”, Francks said. “As I am sure you all know the shroud of Turin has been surrounded by speculation and religious veneration for centuries, ever since its discovery in 1508. The claim, by some, that it is in fact the burial cloth of the biblical Jesus Christ makes it one of the most controversial artifacts in the world.
“Our goal during this study was, through the use of carbon 14 dating, to ascertain the approximate age of the shroud. We believe we have accomplished that.”
Francks paused briefly and picked up a sheet of paper from the table before him. Silence gripped the room. He began to speak again, this time reading from the paper in his hands, “We have determined that the samples tested, which were collected from the shroud of Turin are from the fourteenth century, specifically within a date range of 1350 to 1390. They are not from the first century.”
Shouted questions and exclamations erupted from the reporters. Bishop Orviestre raised his hands and attempted to quiet the crowd.
In Paris, the men gathered in the subterranean depths of the mansion, likewise began talking among themselves, all except for two. One of the silent men, a stone faced man dressed all in black, with black hair and stormy gray eyes, simply stared at the television. The other man, a diminutive man in a tailored suit, quietly rose from his chair, went to the television, and switched it off, a move that silenced the others.
Turning to face the group he began to speak, “It appears once again that modern science is subject to the failings of men. Our source within the shroud team has confirmed that the sample for the testing was taken from the repaired area, the patches made after the fire. Of course the conclusion that will be reached, that the shroud is and always was some sort of fraud foisted upon gullible believers, is something that all of us know to be in error. As our predecessors always believed, the shroud is what it was reported to be. Our quest is true and what we pursue remains somewhere out there awaiting us.
“Let the rest of the world believe what they will. We know the truth.
“Now, brother Dominicus will give us a report of his latest efforts and discoveries. Dominicus.”
The man dressed in black rose, turned to face the rest of the group, and began to speak.
In the Moroccan riad all four occupants now stood on the roof top terrace. The three who had been sitting in front of the television were standing behind the man still staring off into the distance toward the mountain range. One of the three spoke breaking the silence, “Now that the shroud has been declared a fraud surely those who pursue you will abandon their quest.”
It was a question really and the staring man emitted a barely audible chuckle.
“No, Randolph. While the people, the faithful who believe in the shroud may now abandon it, those who have pursued me and what I protect, will never stop. They believe what they pursue exists and they guess at its power. In the end they cannot give up nor will I.”
Finally turning to face the three men he smiled, “Or should I say, we will never give up.”
Reaching out to the one named Randolph he put his arm around his shoulders and together they headed for the stairway.
“Come, my friend, enough of this talk. It is time for Breakfast. Malamek, time to work your magic.”
The Shroud of Turin is real!
The Shroud of Turin, is it the burial cloth of Jesus of Nazareth? Is it a fraud? How did the image, the unmistakable image of a man with injuries eerily similar to those said to have been suffered by a crucified Christ, come to be made?
I read this article with great interest. Why you ask? Well, The Shroud of Turin makes an appearance in "The Arimathean", the followup to Slow Boat to Purgatory.
The history of the shroud is full of intrigue, mystery and gaping holes in its chain of possession. The circumstances of its discovery are murky at best. Was it discovered by Templars? Perhaps stolen from the ashes of Constantinople? How old is it really? Irresistible fodder for your's truly.
Below is a snippet from "The Arimathean", an excerpt that just happens to dovetail nicely with this article.
Turin Italy, October, 13 1988
The press conference was held in a bland, anti-septic, room which belayed the history and importance of the subject matter at hand.
Four men sat behind a table with thin stacks of paper arranged in front of them. One of the men was dressed in the robes of a catholic bishop, the other three, all professorial in appearance, were dressed in suits and ties. Microphones and tape recorders had been placed on the table in a haphazard way. Approximately thirty reporters were crammed into the room which further served to impart the impression of a hastily called but somewhat important news conference.
Six hundred miles away, in the Saint Germain district of Paris, in a room three levels below the ground floor of an elegant Mansion, eight men were gathered in much more gentile surroundings. Comfortable leather chairs had been set facing a large television which sat upon an ornate mahogany table. The room was dark except for the light put off by the television and from a fire crackling within a large fireplace behind the assembled group.
The smell of cigars and the sound of clinking ice in fine crystal imparted a wholly different atmosphere from that of the news conference. All eight men sat watching the television in rapt attention.
A continent away, behind non-descript walls of mud and brick in the center of Marrakesh, another television was tuned to the same news conference. The space behind the walls contained one of the city’s oldest dwellings, a place of stunning beauty and architecture.
The television was set on a long, low bench. It sat along one wall of a courtyard set in the middle of the riad. A fountain, protruding from the opposite wall of the courtyard, spilled water into a mosaic-tiled pool. Intricate patterns and phantasmal creatures were depicted by the tiles and shimmered in radiant colors below the surface of the water.
The pool was surrounded by tropical plants and trees in a variety of pots and vases. A large citrus tree, laden with bright orange orbs, dominated one corner of the courtyard and below its spreading branches pillows and cushions were arranged on an exquisite oriental carpet.
Three levels of balconies rose above the courtyard giving way to a square of purple sky tinged with streaks of orange and gold as the sun began it’s ascent from behind the Atlas mountains.
Three men sat on the array of cushions and pillows, laid out in front of the television, sipping hot tea. A fourth man stood on a rooftop terrace above the courtyard his ears tuned to the competing calls of the muezzins, his gaze on the snowcapped mountain peaks that towered in the distance.
At precisely 12:00 p.m. the bishop, seated at the table before the reporters, cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him.
“Good afternoon and thank you for joining us today. My name is Bishop Sergio Orviestre. I am the bishop of Turin. I am joined today by Dr. Marcel Janey, the head of forensic science at the University of Paris. Also with me today is Dr. Phillip Blance, the head of the medieval antiquities department at the London Musuem of Natural history, as well as Dr. Wilhelm Francks who is the world’s foremost authority on the science of Carbon Dating.
“As you know we have collectively been overseeing what has come to be known as “The Shroud Project”. It has been our goal though the use of the most current and advanced technologies, including Carbon 14 dating, to ascertain once and for all the approximate age of what is commonly known as the shroud of Turin.
“I will now defer to Dr. Janey who will give us the results of the testing.”
Dr. Janey paused for a moment to take a sip of water from a glass in front of him.
“This study could not have happened without the generous assistance of the diocese of Turin, the keepers of the shroud, who allowed us to remove a series of small pieces from the shroud with which to conduct our testing and research.
“It has been six long months but we have reached a conclusion that we believe to be definitive and without flaw.
“Dr. Francks will now explain the results.”
“Thank you, Marcel”, Francks said. “As I am sure you all know the shroud of Turin has been surrounded by speculation and religious veneration for centuries, ever since its discovery in 1508. The claim, by some, that it is in fact the burial cloth of the biblical Jesus Christ makes it one of the most controversial artifacts in the world.
“Our goal during this study was, through the use of carbon 14 dating, to ascertain the approximate age of the shroud. We believe we have accomplished that.”
Francks paused briefly and picked up a sheet of paper from the table before him. Silence gripped the room. He began to speak again, this time reading from the paper in his hands, “We have determined that the samples tested, which were collected from the shroud of Turin are from the fourteenth century, specifically within a date range of 1350 to 1390. They are not from the first century.”
Shouted questions and exclamations erupted from the reporters. Bishop Orviestre raised his hands and attempted to quiet the crowd.
In Paris, the men gathered in the subterranean depths of the mansion, likewise began talking among themselves, all except for two. One of the silent men, a stone faced man dressed all in black, with black hair and stormy gray eyes, simply stared at the television. The other man, a diminutive man in a tailored suit, quietly rose from his chair, went to the television, and switched it off, a move that silenced the others.
Turning to face the group he began to speak, “It appears once again that modern science is subject to the failings of men. Our source within the shroud team has confirmed that the sample for the testing was taken from the repaired area, the patches made after the fire. Of course the conclusion that will be reached, that the shroud is and always was some sort of fraud foisted upon gullible believers, is something that all of us know to be in error. As our predecessors always believed, the shroud is what it was reported to be. Our quest is true and what we pursue remains somewhere out there awaiting us.
“Let the rest of the world believe what they will. We know the truth.
“Now, brother Dominicus will give us a report of his latest efforts and discoveries. Dominicus.”
The man dressed in black rose, turned to face the rest of the group, and began to speak.
In the Moroccan riad all four occupants now stood on the roof top terrace. The three who had been sitting in front of the television were standing behind the man still staring off into the distance toward the mountain range. One of the three spoke breaking the silence, “Now that the shroud has been declared a fraud surely those who pursue you will abandon their quest.”
It was a question really and the staring man emitted a barely audible chuckle.
“No, Randolph. While the people, the faithful who believe in the shroud may now abandon it, those who have pursued me and what I protect, will never stop. They believe what they pursue exists and they guess at its power. In the end they cannot give up nor will I.”
Finally turning to face the three men he smiled, “Or should I say, we will never give up.”
Reaching out to the one named Randolph he put his arm around his shoulders and together they headed for the stairway.
“Come, my friend, enough of this talk. It is time for Breakfast. Malamek, time to work your magic.”
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Wow. Hello to my German friends!
Not sure why but I seem to have alot of German visitors to the Blog today. Someone drop me a comment as to why. And don't forget Slow Boat To Purgatory is available on Amazon.de. I'm still looking for my first German sale.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Name the character contest!
The followup to Slow Boat to Purgatory, The Arimathean", is moving along nicely. Like Slow Boat there are several angelic characters in the new book and one in particular is shaping up to be a real bad guy. I had a name in mind but it just doesn't seem to work for me on a gut level. So...I need your help!
Name the following character and I'll send you an e-book copy of Slow Boat To Purgatory:
Fallen angel. One of the original angels cast out of heaven. Tall, Alex Donovan is 6'2" and the angel towers over him. Tanned like he spends a lot of time in tropical climes. Long blond hair, rugged build, not muscle bound but strong. He favors oriental art, culture, architecture and clothes. Unlike most fallen angels he does not change his name when in mortal form.
He is known for his ability to recruit mortals to his side by promising great wealth, leisure and lives surrounded by wondrous beauty. While he rarely fails in his seduction he is capable of unleashing devastating violence which is usually imparted by legions of quite nasty demons at his disposal. There is no evidence that he has ever raised a weapon in battle.
Have fun and I look forward to seeing what you all come up with.
Contest ends on 12-20.
Vernon
Name the following character and I'll send you an e-book copy of Slow Boat To Purgatory:
Fallen angel. One of the original angels cast out of heaven. Tall, Alex Donovan is 6'2" and the angel towers over him. Tanned like he spends a lot of time in tropical climes. Long blond hair, rugged build, not muscle bound but strong. He favors oriental art, culture, architecture and clothes. Unlike most fallen angels he does not change his name when in mortal form.
He is known for his ability to recruit mortals to his side by promising great wealth, leisure and lives surrounded by wondrous beauty. While he rarely fails in his seduction he is capable of unleashing devastating violence which is usually imparted by legions of quite nasty demons at his disposal. There is no evidence that he has ever raised a weapon in battle.
Have fun and I look forward to seeing what you all come up with.
Contest ends on 12-20.
Vernon
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Review of Diary of a Small Fish...
Check out this great review of Pete Morin's new novel. This is next up on my to read list...as soon as I finish the collected works of H.P. Lovecraft!
http://www.amazon.com/review/R1KPWHDC3EWA3M/ref=cm_cr_pr_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B005Q33C1K&nodeID&tag&linkCode
http://www.amazon.com/review/R1KPWHDC3EWA3M/ref=cm_cr_pr_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B005Q33C1K&nodeID&tag&linkCode
Friday, December 9, 2011
Buy a signed copy of Slow Boat To Purgatory for Christmas
Struggling to find that one of a kind Christmas gift for friends or family members? There is still time to order a signed copy of Slow Boat To Purgatory. For the next week buy a copy of Slow Boat for $13.00 and I'll sign it with a personal Christmas message. I shipped out a couple of books this week, priority, and it was only $5.
I can accept paypal, mastercard or visa.
Just send me a message at vernon.baker@rocketmail.com and I'll get one in the mail for you.
Vernon
I can accept paypal, mastercard or visa.
Just send me a message at vernon.baker@rocketmail.com and I'll get one in the mail for you.
Vernon
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Winner of Thanksgiving Giveaway.
Congratulations to Anne who is the winner of a signed copy of Slow Boat to Purgatory.
Thanks to everyone who entered and as always if anyone who entered the contest would like an e-book copy of Slow Boat just e-mail me at vernon.baker@rocketmail.com and I will forward a smashwords coupon for a discounted copy.
Thanks to everyone who entered and as always if anyone who entered the contest would like an e-book copy of Slow Boat just e-mail me at vernon.baker@rocketmail.com and I will forward a smashwords coupon for a discounted copy.
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