Breaking news! Not trending on twitter! My new novel “Who’s The Lucky Guy?” is out in paperback.

The wait is over.

Aren’t you dying to know? Unfortunately the only way to find out is to buy the damn book and read it.

“Who’s The Lucky Guy,” the latest novel from Samuel Muggington, is available.

Buy it now before it sinks into the abyss of nothingness.

Click here to buy the paperback version of “Who’s The Lucky Guy?”

Don’t worry the Kindle version will be available very soon.

For more information on “Who’s The Lucky Guy?” Check out the book website at http://whoistheluckyguy.com

It’s up to you and me

The laws of physics have no regard for human feelings. Gravity has no compassion. Matter and energy exist quite nicely without us.

Because of this reality, humans need to be proactive. We cannot abandon our precious lives to chance.  We have the capability to make our lives comfortable, and to increase the chances of our survival. It takes hard work, continual exploration, and new understanding of nature in order to better the odds.

There are two ways humans can do this. The first method, attempting to control and fight nature, has been most frequently used. Unfortunately the universe is filled with surprises, probably too many for us to ever anticipate. The second method, which is more promising, is finding ways to coexist with nature. The biomimicry and sustainability movements are good examples of humans findings ways to work with, and not against , nature.

 

Coincidence?

Yesterday after much hand-wringing and procrastination I submitted my latest novel to an editor.

You will not believe what happened as soon as I clicked ‘submit’.

Let me set the scene. The cranky, overheated author is sitting in a wooden rocking chair on his front porch. Out of nowhere two bright yellow and black swallowtail butterflies proceed to chase each other in a wild and wonderful aerial dance. This continued for at least five minutes and then they both ascended up and up until they were out of sight.

I know you probably don’t believe me but this did happen.

This world is stranger and more fantastic that we will ever know.

 

Too much

Maybe I put too much fertilizer. I’ll never know.

We planted the garden as usual in mid-April. The first few weeks are always touch and go. One heavy thunderstorm can flatten the tiny plants and ruin all of our work.

June arrived and most of the plants were still scrawny and underdeveloped. I saw lots of yellow leaves. It was obvious, we needed to add some fertilizer.

Maybe it had magic dust in it. Or maybe the fertilizer manufacturer made a mistake and put rocket fuel in it.

A week later the back yard was a jungle. Tomatoes as tall as redwoods towered over all. Squash blossoms the size of a man’s head peeked around the tomato stems. Each cherry tomato was the size of a basketball and the beefsteaks, well, I just dug my way through the ripe red flesh where they lay.

You might think that it was a gardener’s dream but it wasn’t. The giant milkweed made a terrible mess when it dispersed its seeds. But worst of all was the effect it had on animals.

One night I heard a persistent thumping noise from the back door. I grabbed a flashlight and peered out the window trying to see what could be making that terrible racket.  Pressed up against the glass I saw the mouth parts of a giant slug. Every time it rasped over the wood door the whole house shook.

The next morning I found that bag of fertilizer. I put it out with the trash.

Sometimes I worry about that bag. I assume they dropped it at the landfill with the other trash. The landfill is only ten miles away from our house.

The Predicament

I got him as a cub. He grew into a four hundred pound mass of muscle before I knew it. Now,  every time I enter a room he leaps onto me. I know he is being affectionate but it is disconcerting.

I have to do something. I decide to make a break for it. He senses something and he lunges at me. I put my shoulder against the door and manage to push it shut.

I walk down to city hall to report my problem. As soon as I enter a woman hands me a plastic wrapped blanket. I look at her in bewilderment. “I have a lion in my house,” I said. She begins to talk and I can’t understand a word.

Tables turned

I watch the farm through my binoculars. It is the crack of dawn and things should start at any moment.

I hear squeals and lines of porkers emerge. They stream towards the farmer’s house. I admit it. I did unlock the gate. I also unlocked the doors to the farmer’s house.

The pigs stop squealing and one by one they slip into the house. I hear muffled screams and thumps.

The farmer runs out of the door. He is met by a wall of pigs. He tries to step over them but they headbutt him back.

They move as a group toward the pond. I can hardly control myself. I feel like laughing out loud.

The farmer and swarm of pigs reach a tall wooden platform.

I hear the farmer pleading. “No, I’m afraid of heights. Please no.”

The pigs are relentless. I hear loud grunting and I see the pigs shoving and pushing the man up the steps.

The platform is slanted. The farmer edges out onto the platform. The squealing and grunting reaches fever pitch.

The farmer begins to scream like a child. He slides off the platform into the water.

I hear the smack of a belly flop and wince.

I bet that hurt.

The farmer swims to shore where he is greeted by a wall of pigs. They stare at him with blank expressions.

“What?” the farmer said. “I did it. Are you happy now?”

Squeals and grunts fill the air. They began to herd the farmer to the steps.

I watched as the farmer dove, over and over. It only stopped when the park opened at nine am.

Families and children stood in amazement as hordes of pigs made the farmer jump off the platform.

At the end of the day the farmer took down his diving platform.

Pigs don’t dive any more on that farm.