A little bit more from a novel by me:  

I think I'm Dead -  Chapter (?) The California Club and Hotel 

Explanation: Our main character - who has no name sat down to write a YA novel for publishing company and possibly died. He somehow landed on a ship in an endless ocean among many other such ships... inexplicable sailing all to the same place...a huge arch of fire on the horizon.  His only companions are an Amazonian woman - who looks suspiciously like the agent that berated him into working to meet his writing deadline, and another man whom also forgot his name... in which he calls "muttonchops" from the late 1800's to try and turn the ship from the huge fiery abyss that looks something like hell.  

Eventually, in a moment of panic he jumps from the ship into the boiling ocean just before being burned alive and awakes to find himself a well-groomed bartender in the mysterious California Club and Hotel in Nevada where he first meets the Lolita-like daughter of the most richest man in the world... (and possible satanic prodigy) trillionaire John Paul Milan, who is announcing his run for the Presidency of the United States. 

That's where he meets Marie.. a singer in the band that is also at the club... and also looks very much like a different version of the same Queen on the ship.  

Don't worry, you'll figure it out as we go along...  

She lit a cigarette, and whipped the match onto the floor, “A little premature don’t you think,” she asked me as she took a puff from her cigarette and blew out the smoke as she spoke.

I turned my head and found myself again staring at the Queen from the ship in a shimmery velvet blue evening gown.  She somehow seemed much different, proportions not so muscular and she was appreciably shorter in this form.  It was also a plus that she appears to speak English.  

“I thought smoking was outlawed in public places, miss.  What can I get you to drink,” Again, my usual sparkling wit seemed to waver. 

“Oh, smart guy huh?  For your information they make it legal here.  I’ll take gin, straight up.  Please don’t add any water,” she said seriously. 

“Why not water,” I asked her. 

“The water here has an aftertaste of sulfur,” she answered matter-of-factly.  

Plainly missing something important, I became a bit emboldened as I gave her the glass of gin.  “I must say ma’am your singing is truly inspiring.  I loved the treatment of Alone again, naturally. So very soulful and very nicely done.” 

“Ah, gee thanks for the excellent review, hired help,” she mocked me, “So, are you one of Milan’s goons, or are you a real boy?”  She took another puff and blew the smoke in my face. 

“To be honest, I’m not exactly sure at this point who the hell I am,” I said honestly. 

“Well, at least you got that part right,” She said, and sipped her drink.  

The speech which whole room, perhaps the whole county, had been waiting to hear interrupted our repartee. 

“Friends, Romans and Countrymen….”  He began, to some chuckles and applause.  “In the original intention of the first Continental Congress of the newly formed country called America, the idea was simple, freedom.  Freedom from all that might impede or tread upon a man’s life.  It was a simpler time that only required the hard work and ambition of a nation of men to use whatever tools are necessary to survive and eventually thrive. 

Yes, there were hard times.  Yes, there was corruption.  Yes, there was slavery.  Life was a series of misadventures and based on what some have called jungle law, the survival of the fittest."

"If I were a politician asking for your vote, I would tell you this is a bad thing.  If I were asking for your vote, I would tell you that we have come a long way since those bad, old days.  We are now a civilized nation.  We subscribe to the rule of law in our society.  And because of this, peace reigns throughout the land.”

(General laughter throughout the room) 

He then pounds the podium with his left fist, “NO!  I say NO!  Our nation was not founded by any means other than the strength of its strongest.  The weaklings, the poor, the unfortunates did not contribute a thing other than misery to this country!” 

“It is time we embraced the uniqueness of the American spirit.  It is time we embraced the uniqueness of American exceptionalism.  Forget the poor and weaklings that expect a handout and a free meal ticket to supplant their miserable existences.  And what have they contributed to even their own versions of THE GREATER GOOD?”  Loud cheers and applause came from the audience.

“The best and brightest are the ones to drive America to greatness.  The best and brightest, when left to their own devices drive industry, research and most of all, wealth.  Did Alexander the Great become great by bestowing good will on his enemies?”  (NO! From the Crowd) “Did Napoleon conquer Europe by benevolence and good will?” (NO!)  “Were all the great economies in the world created so everyone could have an equal slice, regardless of their station or contribution?”  (NO!)  The time has come for a strong hand in leadership, one that will lead this country, finally to greatness among all the nations for all time.”  

“Now, if I were a politician asking for your vote, I would ask you for your money; I would ask you for your support; I would ask you for your undivided attention.  I’m not asking for any of those things from you. I am not even asking for your vote.  I am not going to seek my name to be on any of the ballets, but I want all of you…everyone out there to write the name in the blank, John Paul Milan as your next President.  I am NOT running as a democrat, nor as a republican.  I’m running as myself.  And with the help of the combined third parties that have allied with our common interests, we will prevail and we will win.”

“My name is John Paul Milan.  I WILL be your next leader!”   

Thunderous applause and a roar filled the room that seemed louder that it should have been.  The band played the now-declared candidate off the stage and into the warm regards of the grateful and enthusiastic crowd. 

I looked away from the tumult of the stage and back to Marie, which had turned her attention back to her drink. 

“The old windbag. Surprised he didn’t crown himself king.  What a bunch of hooey,” she sounded deflated.   

“Oh? You don’t think much of the richest man in the universe?” 

“That loser?  No, he tried to… well, let’s just say his pelvis seems to keep getting in my way,” she took a long drink, and crunched her cigarette out on the bar.  Something in her face made me feel sick to my stomach. 

We both stood looking at her drink for some time, until she picked up the glass and finished it, 

“Well… looks like I’m going to go hit the next set.  Hey, sweetie can you hold this glass here and fill it when I’m done.” 

“Of course, happy to ma’am,” I smiled at her, yet it was a little unnerving to see the doppelganger of the Queen of some third world country that almost forced me to go down with a burning cruise ship, which I barely remember.   I shook my head. 

When it stopped  by Druchland Floric  

Dear reader:

I know this may book be difficult for some of you to read. Some of the words within are hard to understand, as printing even with advanced locomotive techneeks have been difficult and expensive. It is possible you are reading this edition on root-bark parchment as paper has been (at least in my day) extremely rare in parts of the world. Though I dare say this accounting is not the only reading on the subject, but it seems to be the most sout-after.

My name in Druchland Floric and I was commissioned by the Vienna Science committee (which met in secret on the relatively unscathed city of Bordeaux, France and later in Lisbon, Portugal) to undertake a factual and personal account of the days leading up to and just after the happening. 

I suppose the reason the committee picked me was my relatively young age at the time. I was a fresh puter technician who moonlighted as a writer in my spare time. (Note: I understand some of these terms are new to you, but we will endeavor to move ahead) They had felt that my background in science and my humanistic qualities in writing made me a good candidate to write the words in front of you now.

It took nearly 10 years (20 demarks) after it happened to establish alternative means of communications using carrion pigeons, air-gliders, sailing ships and mirror signaling.  After that, some mechanicals were used with steam engines, but it was still an amazing undertaking all things considered.  Of course the great science purge after the Mygod Wars and then later the great burnings of what was called “North America” eradicated many of the brightest minds that may have presented us with answers to some of our questions about the happening.  

Nonetheless, we must appreciate what effort went into the meeting of the minds during the science congress held underground in the year after our Lord 025 (demarks). Many sacrificed their lives, torture and their freedoms to come together and like them, I tell their stories which will culminate in this tome. I hope that it finds some usefulness after all.

Before I tell my tale, I must numerate what we know as of this writing:

No one knows exactly why the electricity stopped working. Some earlier scientist theorized that a great solar flare erupted from our sun which caused our atmosphere to completely ionize and create a situation where the nuclear elements known as electrons and protons (negatively and positively charged particles) became equalized and ceased to become dynamic. Unfortunately, these scientist whom suggested this were quickly rounded up and burned at the stake for heresy during the great expulsions of the first Mygod War.

Though their early observations have some merit, it did not explain how many things continued to function on battery* and generator* power for hours, days and even weeks after the happening. It was this that allowed several of the later committee members to openly communicate with each other to formulate a plan to meet at a central location.  There seems to be no scientific explanation why the disruption was not immediate and complete. We still do not understand this.

Many of the Mygod religious sects which sprung up across the globe were originally convinced this was the work of the hand of God as foretold in the books of the Bible then known as “Armigetton.”  It was said that at the end of times, God would destroy the earth, but before he did the righteous people would rise to heaven* and what was left would have to repent or die in hell*.  However, in the 80 years since the happening, there has been no indication that God has destroyed the earth or has raised anyone from the dead. However, mankind has really done a good job of killing each other in his name.

Some had theorized that alien beings from another part of space had caused this as a prelude to an invasion (Some Many of you may have seen the kinescope presentations of “movies” which show this). Again after 80 years of no answers, this seems a foregone conclusion.  If there is beings willing to take over our planet after we have killed it and most of ourselves, they are in for a terrible disappointment.

There seems to be no reason of why other than it happened.  It continues to be a mystery and for all of us, our reality.

Without further a due, I present my story. 

Excerpt from my next attempt at a novel: 

I Woke up Dead 

 Burning sky / Sinking Ship

Soon after we arrived on the bow, the Queen stood next to Starbuck and stared at the same thing we were looking at.  Her long, dark hair blowing in the wind made her look like an artwork by Frank Frazetta.  She raised her scepter as in defiance to the alarming site in front of us all. 

Starbuck then pointed to an arch of yellow light on the horizon, “There seems to be our destination.  We noticed it just before you came on board, and we appear to be sailing into it.”

I squinted at the odd light.  It seemed to be almost dancing in the water far away.  Starbuck handed me a pair of binoculars, “Here. These fancy optics can get your eyes quite close, indeed,” he paused then, “Just a warning, what you see may be agitating and extremely troubling.” 

I put them up to my eyes.  Agitating and extremely troubling, indeed!  My eyes beheld what looked to be a swirling mass of fire far up ahead on the horizon.  It was if someone made the sun proportionally smaller and so very much closer and hung sunk it on the far horizon.  It was a gigantic arch of fire. 

“Well, that’s just the sunset, right,” I hopefully asked. 

“No, the sun arises on the port side and sets on the starboard.  If this were truly earth, our direction would be due south.  More interestingly, have you ever seen a sunset which displaces so little light?” 

I looked through the field glasses again, and it was as the blackness of space entirely ate up the light from the fire.  It’s almost as if there was no physical light from the fire at all.  In any reasonable universe that would be impossible.  Yet the normal laws of physics do not seem to apply here.  That’s when I noticed something even more troubling, I could spot thousands of small dots aflame in my lower field of vision.  It made me realize those were multitudes of ships sailing right into the flaming abyss. 

Starbuck’s voice took on a strange, deeper timbre then, “Behold, the inferno!” 

“Achitoo!  Pattooe!  FRUCKERS,” exclaimed the Queen.  Yeah, I with you there, Queenie, baby.  FRUCKERS, indeed. 

Okay, amendment to the amendment:  I am stuck on a ship with professor muttonchops from the late eighteen hundreds and his boss Queen Nefertiti who looks like a cross between my ball-crusher literary agent and Jackie Brown, and now person non-grata me, and apparent pawn of a deity is sailing directly into perditions flame.  Well, okay then.  Yatzee, it is.