Slightly Off the Mark

 I'm about to tell you a story you won't believe. Like all my stories about things that actually happened, it actually happened.

 There was a storm coming in, which is not at all unusual during an Indiana summer. A tornado warning had been issued for Kosciusko County, which is the nearest county to our west, so I went out to take some pictures and video of it coming in. The two photos you see here were only enhanced a little--all the light in the sky was from the lightning.

I headed out back wearing sweats and slippers. I figured, what did Mother Nature care? She'd smite me, or she wouldn't. When the storm got closer we went inside to watch the various weather people, while I sent Facebook messages out on my and the Fire Department's Facebook pages. My small attempt to help.

Here's the YouTube version of the video, if it can't be opened here.

Since I'm no longer active as a firefighter, weather has become a spectator sport, and like any good spectators we had a snack. Rice, chicken, beans, and cheese.

Hm ... I just now noticed the two photos that came out anywhere near good are almost exactly the same, even though they were taken minutes apart. Sometimes night lighting just isn't good to me.  

We'd been watching the national weather channels and local radar, then went to local channels as the storms grew closer. Then something crawled across my hand.

My mind instantly went to one thing, and one thing only: Spider.

But it wasn't. Even as I shrieked and threw the bowl into the air, my mind said, Bee. Oh, okay.

And then, because naturally my hand came slapping down, accompanied by bits and rice and beans, it stung me.

I'm allergic to almost everything nature provides, with the exception (thank goodness!) of food. I'm allergic to spider bites. I've had reactions to mosquito bites, when I get enough of them at the same time. Pollen and mold are my sworn enemies. However, allergy doctors do not normally test for bee sting allergies, unless the patient has had previous reactions. I haven't been stung by a bee since I was a teenager.

But they assumed I was allergic, because of, well, everything, so they gave me an EpiPen to have close by, just in case. It was in the house. Somewhere.

The bee was all black, and crawling on the floor, and I dispatched it with extreme prejudice because I don't like pain. Then I had to decide what kind of bee it was. "What did it look like?" Emily asked.

"Um, a black smear across the carpet."

"Well, there's something still crawling down there."

It was an earwig, which I also dispatched, while keeping one eye on the TV. What the heck? Was the bee carrying an earwig? But no, the answer soon presented itself: They'd hitched a ride on my slippers when I came in from the back yard. Looking for shelter, but all they found was death.

This kind of bee, according to my sources (um, Google) tends to nest in yards and has pretty much the same venom has a honeybee. In other words, I was about to die in a most dramatic way, while a storm raged outside.

At least I managed to catch my bowl, with most of the food still in it. The cheese held everything together, as usual.

But I didn't need the EpiPen. I had, as I usually have, a localized reaction, instead of systemic. The spot on the inside of my finger turned red, swelled, and my whole hand itched for awhile. As I write this, three days later, my finger is itching like crazy, but otherwise all is well.

 That's more than can be said for Illinois and Indiana (and other areas), which, like the bee, got smeared under Mother Nature's giant foot. Tornado touchdowns were confirmed in two surrounding counties, but all we got was a thunderstorm warning, as the storm was starting to lose power. It was still pretty darned photogenic, as the weather has been, lately.

 Still, I think next time I'll take all my pictures from the porch.

Weather is a common theme in many of our books. Check them out here:

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The last thing I thought would happen with Hoosier Hysterical II: Crying Out for a Subtitle is that I would run out of space.

Yet a few days ago my planned 53,000 word manuscript for Hoosier Hysterical II: The Wrath of Corn hit 59,610 words. This is a problem. I wanted it to be close to the length of the original Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All. I also wanted it to have a cool subtitle, although not as long as the first one.

But wait, there's more: I got my word count wrong. Despite the length of the subtitle, the original Hoosier Hysterical weighed in at only 43,023 words, not the 53,000 number going through my mind. I didn't catch it until the sequel's rough draft was finished.

There's a lot of research involved, and I made the mistake of deep-diving. It turns out a few little details at the top of a biography aren't nearly as interesting as all the stuff that comes between the "B" and the "D".

No, that's not the code for bondage: It's "Born" and "Died". Get your mind out of the black leather.

People I planned to spend a few paragraphs on ended up taking whole chapters. Meanwhile, I had no idea how many people of note have connections to the Hoosier State. Did you know Ian Fleming's first pick to play James Bond in the movies was a singer from Indiana?

Or that not only Garfield, but Clifford the Big Red Dog, Raggedy Ann, and Little Orphan Annie were born in Indiana, along with the infamous Dick and Jane from the early reader books? Or that Ohio may have birthed more astronauts, but we educated them? Or that the Governor of Indiana saved President Lincoln from getting kidnapped?

Neither did I.

56,000 words doesn't seem like much: George R.R. Martin’s last Game of Thrones book had so many words that, if laid end to end, they’d reach the orbit of Jupiter. Still, that's a 13,000 word difference, and yes, I counted them individually. I've often wondered if the reason my second Slightly Off the Mark humor book didn't sell as well as the first is because it was much longer; now I'm facing the same thing.

So here's my plan: I'm going to divide this book up into two. One would concentrate on people, the other on items, inventions, and events. For instance, Katherine Bailey was born in Marion and died in Indianapolis, so she would be here. The incident in which President Van Buren’s buggy overturned in Plainfield, after he vetoed a bill that would have improved the road, would be in Hoosier Hysterical III: Here We Go Again.

Or whatever it ends up being called.

Look up our humor, history, and other books at many of your favorite Mark R. Hunter locations:

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When I was walking home from work Saturday night I decided to take a few photos of the Chain O' Lakes Festival rides. It rained (a lot) earlier, as kinda/sorta shown in this photo I took during the storm.

That's when the rain just started coming in; it turned into a real gully-washer for awhile. During the Festival, the only choice of weather is usually either wet or hot. After the sun came back out, we got the hot part.

This one was when the rain was coming down harder, and some lightning drove everyone off the rides. A lot of them came right back as soon as it lightened up, though.

I didn't have a lot of hope for taking pictures outside. I don't traditionally have a lot of luck with nighttime pictures using my iPhone. Not only that, but it was so humid my lens started fogging up.

But honestly, I kind of liked the effect. It kind of smeared the color out in a way I liked. Maybe I'll try to post the video I took on here too, although I really have trouble with video.

The last two are essentially the same photo, with the rides changing color between them. I'm a big fan of color and light. I'm not much of a festival goer anymore, but I do like watching them. Unless there are clowns with balloons.

Notice the double exposure effect. Not on purpose, although back in the film days doing something like that was a huge pain.

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 There are two ways to approach a summer blockbuster Action/SF movie: Compare it to "Citizen Kane" and snipe at everything you think could have been done better; or buy the cup, sit back, and enjoy the ride.

We bought the cup.

"Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu" is set after the end of the original trilogy at a time when the New Republic is trying to eliminate the last vestiges of the Galactic Empire. It's also, of course, a spinoff of "The Mandalorian" series, and if you're a Star Wars fan you'll see plenty of callbacks and Easter eggs. The non-Star Wars fan can still watch and enjoy the show, which explains enough of the universe it's in to keep things straight. Sometimes franchise movies are good at that; sometimes, not so much.

Pedro Pascal plays Din Djarin, a member of a cult of Mandalorian warriors who never remove their helmets. In fact, we only see Pascal's face in one scene, which begs the question: How do we know it's not a stuntman in that armor the whole time? Well, we don't, although how different is that from an animated show? Darth Maul is Darth Maul in every medium.

This is the way. On a related note, Grogu was done with live-action puppetry at the urging of the legendary Werner Herzog, who saw the efforts to go CGI and said, "You're cowards. Leave it." He was right.

 A former bounty hunter, Djarin has adopted Grogu, formerly known as "Baby Yoda". (He's not: Yoda, at this point in the story, has passed on.) Grogu is a Force-wielding baby, less than a hundred years old and not yet talking. That kind of makes him Djarin's apprentice, and Heaven help everyone if he ever gets his hands on a lightsaber.

The Mandalorian used to find people for gangsters, but he's given that up and now works for the New Republic, tracking down Imperial bad guys. When the local New Republic leader gives him his new assignment ... it's to find someone for gangsters, who say they have information on Imperial movements. His quest is to rescue the son and heir of the now deceased Jabba the Hut, who turns out to be not all that eager to be rescued.

(By the way, Sigourney Weaver took on the role of Colonel Ward because she wanted to act with Grogu.)

Things go sideways, of course. A lot.

 Which brings us back to the only important question when it comes to a movie: Is it entertaining?

(I know people disagree on that: It seems like the Oscars usually go to movies that I find wildly un-entertaining.)

But yes. "The Mandalorian and Grogu" is a slam-bang thrilling adventure with just enough humor, and also just enough pauses in the action (I'm looking at you, Baby Yoda), and doggone it, isn't he cute? The movie also has one of my favorite cameo "appearances" ever: I actually blurted his name out loud when it appeared on the opening credits, and I don't do that.

It's basically a space western, and that's a compliment. Apparently some people have been complaining that it's just like an episode of The Mandalorian TV show. That's also a compliment. 

It's the best Star Wars movie since "Rogue One", coming from one of the best Star Wars series ever. Naturally, that depends on who you ask, because being agreeable is how I roll. This is my way.

 My rating:

Entertainment value: 5 out of 4 M&Ms. My rating system, my rules.

Oscar potential: 2 out of 4 M&Ms. There is Academy Award worthy work going on here, but this movie has zero chance of snagging one of the big categories. Still, it has an outside chance of putting Star Wars movies back on track.

Of course, after the movie you’ll want to look us up:

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To help celebrate this year's Chain O' Lakes Festival in Albion, I thought I'd post some photos from previous festivals. (As always, this is Indiana--there are at least three more Chains Of Lakes that I know of in other states, in addition to the dozen or so Albions.)

 The original celebration was called the Albion Street Fair because, well, there was no Chain O' Lakes State Park. This photo even calls it the "Lawn Street Fair", and as you can see, the Noble County Courthouse lawn is being well used. A few years ago, someone used a metal detector to find a few coins there that might well have fallen from some of the pictured people's punctured pants pockets.

 What does one do at a street fair in the early 1900s? Well, there were acrobats, tightrope walkers, and of course, food and games. It got pretty crowded in the downtown during these festivals.

 At one point Albion's Street Fair happened in September ... or maybe it was a second town festival? It's not like people were home watching The Price is Right. The truth is, I can't trace the lineage of the original town celebrations directly to today's festival until after these older photos were taken.

But there were still rides--the Merry Go Round and the Ferris Wheel, for instance.

The Ferris wheel photo was taken in 1909. There were three photographers operating in Albion at the time that I know of: Joseph M. Harkless, John Inbody, who worked out of Ekhart, and M. C. Beck. Harkless passed away in 1909, so these probably weren't his. In any case, a lot of photos were taken around Albion that year.

Then there were the Chain O' Lakes Festival parades, of course. I hate the word problematical, so for this Campfire Girls photo I'll just stick with "politically incorrect". I'm guessing it was taken in the 20s, but it's a pretty wild guess.

 In any case, it wouldn't be a parade without horses. We're jumping forward some for this photo, which is from the Grace Leatherman collection, as is the next one.

More forward jumping brings us to this photo. The photographer had a bad habit of not writing down dates and should probably be whipped for it, but I think I took it in the late 80s. 1980s. Which, my aching body tells me, makes it awfully close to historical.

I've posted this last one before, but I added it now because it's one of the few parade photos I know of that actually has me in it. I was a last minute replacement for the Color Guard, and had absolutely no idea what I was doing--that's me on the right, shouldering an ax in a way I usually wouldn't.

After you’ve enjoyed the Festival, look us up online:

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 If you should be near Albion during the Chain O’ Lakes Festival, drop in on the fish and tenderloin fry at the fire station Wednesday, June 3rd. This has been an annual tradition for many decades, with proceeds going to equipment and training for the Albion Fire Department.

(Indiana, for those of you near other Albions. I've been past the Albion firehouses in Illinois and Michigan, for example.)

It’s from 4:30-7:00 p.m., with a price of $15 for adults and $10 for children 8 and under, and it’s darned good food for a good cause. Way better than what they would give you across the street at the jail. I assume.

The AFD is at 210 Fire Station Drive, on the east end of town.  (It's traditional, when a town has a Fire Station Drive, to build the fire station there.)

Imagine this, but full of people.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, ask for a copy of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights, a Century or So With the Albion Fire Department. You can still get the Albion Fire Department's history for just $9.99. Live a little, throw in the penny ... if you can find one. After all, it took me 25 years to write.

Okay, so I wasn't writing the entire 25 years.

(I don't actually know if they have any copies at the firehouse, but last time I checked there was a whole box full. If they've run out, I have a partial box of them here at home, for pickup or delivery. Or, you can get the e-book version for $2.99, by following most of the links below.)

I'm not saying you can get that book in all these places, but most of them:

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My midweek photo post is early this week--and also doesn't have any photos.

Not "Happy" Memorial Day ... although I suspect I've unconsciously been guilty of that one.

It's funny how these tombstones so seldom display race, class, or political leanings.

From the Chain O' Lakes Festival Parade, several years ago. 

... "Just beyond, in solemn silence,

Stands a column, broad and deep,

Carved with many a name and emblem

Of those who for their country sleep.

While above a waiting soldier

With his musket by his side,

Guards for aye this lonely city,

Heeding naught of time or tide.

Here, within these peaceful dwellings,

Free from sorrow, care or pain

Waiting till that morning dawneth

When the dead shall rise again - "

(from poem by Elizabeth Hamrick, 1885)

There's nothing I could add to this.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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 So, our new dehumidifier has WiFi.

Yeah, connected by Bluetooth. Which means there's a computer in yet another of our appliances, which means the dehumidifier can, whenever it gets the order, just take us out. It's already connected to our future computer overlords. All they have to do is say "Exterminate!' and the dehumidifier replies "by your command!' and we wake up either drowned or desiccated corpses.

Have you ever woken up as a desiccated corpse? Talk about dry mouth.

It's been a rough year in the Hunter household for small appliances. You probably know about the snowblower catching fire. Sure, it was a small fire, but when it's coming out of a device that's literally designed to deal with frozen water, it tends to take you aback. The first thing to break this year was the vacuum cleaner. On the one hand, it spent years working hard to pick up all the fur Beowulf left behind. On the other hand, it was literally designed to do that.

(I just realized, I could have kept all that fur and used it for blown-in house insulation.)

"Dude, I'm watching this from doggy Heaven. Stop blaming me."

These mini disasters come in bunches for us, and I also just realized I haven't tried to start our bedroom air conditioner for the season. The lawn mower, much to my shock, took off on the first pull.

A couple of weeks ago I walked down to the basement and realized things were smelling a bit musty. Okay, really musty. Okay, there was fog rolling in. The dehumidifier had been down there, working away nine months out of the year, for so long is had qualified for retirement So it ... retired. If I kicked it on, it would kick back off within minutes.

Me being me, this was the first time in years I thought: "I wonder if this thing has a filter?"

It did.

It's dead! And dusty.

I headed down with the intention of cleaning the whole unit, but it took me awhile to remember where the filter was. You have to take the drain tank out, then reach up under the housing and pull the thing downward. And when I say "the thing" ... it was covered with a dark gray, packed-on dust which, I discovered when it sent me into an allergy attack, was itself covered with mold.

But it wasn't actually that hard to clean. Hot water, soap, and holding it under the faucet had it as good as it would have been if I'd done it when I was supposed to. When I put everything together and started it back up, it blasted enough air into my face to qualify it as a jet engine.

Then it died.

It's been a blue year for Hunter appliances.

Since the basement was starting to develop its own weather patterns, Emily did some research, and we headed out the next day to replace it. That's when we found out all the good ones could be connected to the internet.

Why?

The air conditioner we bought a couple of years ago came with a remote control, which struck me as ludicrous. If it's working properly, you should be in good enough shape to get up and adjust it yourself.

Which is the same thing many people used to say about TVs, and we now have eight remotes just for entertainment, so never mind.

So we bought the new one, and it's working fine, although I think I heard it whisper as we left the basement:

"Just wait until I make contact with your fridge." 

You can find our books and/or us all over the internet, which so far is working just fine:

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Okay, so, I got too busy watching the road construction work to prepare a photo blog, so I'm giving you another photo blog of road construction.

You're a brick for reading any further. That's a real expression: It means a good, reliable friend. The only time I ever heard it was on the TV show "I Dream of Genie", in which the main character accidentally turns his friend into ... a brick. 

But this is a real brick: specifically, one of the brick pavers that, according to researchers, was laid down around and near the courthouse in Albion in 1913, then paved over in the early 60s. The pencil was put there to add perspective, but it's actually bigger and heavier than it looks. The brick, not the pencil. (The carpet is in our living room, and is about as old as the brick.)

That means this brick was laid well over a century ago, and hasn't seen the light of day in over fifty years.

It was my understanding that all the bricks under Orange Street, which is also Indiana State Road 9, were going to be dug up. If so, they only extended south from the courthouse a block or two, because in front of our house they're just reconstructing the top surface.

Did anybody beside me have nightmares about steamrollers when you were a kid? The only time I ever saw them was in movies when they were about to, or actually did, roll over someone and leave them two dimensional. They're not powered by steam anymore, but they're still kind of scary.

Now that they're no longer digging down a few feet, the work is going a lot faster--you can see one strip already paved, and all the old asphalt already removed. I always wanted to drive a skid loader; I wonder how much damage would result?

If I had one of these trucks, I'd name it the Duke of Oil. You old timers, you get it.

Say, the neighbors have mowed their lawn--that's a good idea. I should do that. Someday.

See how they patched an entire section of road before ripping it up and paving it again? I did a deep research dive into that, which is one reason why you're not getting horses right now. When there's an area that has particularly deep damage, like a large pothole, they go further down to repair that first, so it doesn't just spring up through the new pavement later. It's trying to get ahead of a problem, which is not something we usually associate with a government related operation.

It's not uncommon to send a man walking in front of the machinery, in case there are any dangers like ice fissures, velociraptors, or bureaucrats. If the worker is killed, their kids get a free ride to collage as long as they major in engineering or big game hunting.

If your street is closed and you can’t get out of your house, you can still find us online:

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·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 I left work an hour early the other night after I started to have, um, digestive issues. I don't like to abandon my partners, even for an hour, even though nothing was happening. It's like smacking Murphy (of Murphy's Law fame) right in the face. But at some point bathroom trips stop you from being of any help, anyway.

When I got home, I discovered my wife was also feeling ... digestivy. In fact, we spent the next two days cursing the fact that our house only has one bathroom. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

But with both of us sick, we decided to track down the source. Naturally, I assumed we had the hantavirus. That's the latest in vogue disease: You're not anyone if you don't get the plague that's striking everyone.

But it turns out hantavirus isn't that easy to get, not to mention the symptoms were all wrong. I feel like I've been failed by social media. What the heck was I supposed to do now? Go to a doctor? Do people still do that?

 A stomach bug? Maybe, but it didn't feel right. (Actually, everything felt very wrong.) Just the same, I washed and disinfected everything in the house either of us touched. Believe me, it was a chore getting the couch into the washing machine.

We drink a lot of iced tea, and have a habit of sharing it between us. The way I see it, we sleep together anyway--if one of us had a bug, we'd share it by snoring. Her snores are kind of cute. Mine once broke a bedroom window. But after a few days we were feeling relatively better, and I haven't heard of anyone else having this particular distress, unless you're counting what was coming out of that Artemis rocket.

When we finally settled on a cause, I realized we'd never be able to convince anyone. In recent weeks we've been trying to eat better--more healthy, balanced, all that crap I spent my life avoiding. It was either one of two things: The sudden change in our eating habits, or some kind of bad germs in some food we aren't used to.

I'm still not sure if my job was trying to kill me off, or attract me back to cover shifts.

We had salad and baby carrots as an appetizer, three meals in a row.

So I told Emily it must be listeria, and that we had in fact ingested big heaps of green letteria, which is a legitimate medical term I just invented. The only glitch in that theory is that all the symptoms didn't quite line up, but if it keeps me from having a salad before pizza I'll just muddle through.

But we're all better now, other than the allergy attack when I mowed the lawn, which I guess could also be blamed on green growing things. As a compromise, yesterday we had a pork roast with potatoes and carrots, and at work I ate an apple, orange, and a handful of M&Ms. Okay, a bowl full.

It's all about moderation.

If you’re feeling well enough, here are some places to find us and our books:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 It's photo Wednesday again, or whatever day you happen to be reading and I happen to be posting. Staying on a schedule has turned out to be harder than I thought, especially since I'm editing one book and still working on the first draft of another.

The subject wasn't hard, though, because as I looked through old photos I found a number that had two things in common: old or unusual vehicles, taken at an inopportune time. In other words, snapshots. For instance, in the above photo I was taking pictures of an unusually large load that was being escorted through town at the time. Then I caught sight of this car, which I've seen drive through town many times, but never managed to capture before.

It was the same in this case. (I was stopped!) I had already brought out my phone to get the car ahead of me, when I saw an Avilla Fire truck go by and tried to get them both in the frame. Which is dumb.

(By the way, these were all taken at least a couple of years ago, so ignore the license plates.)

Elvis has left for Starbucks!

This truck, you'll agree, can go for hundreds of miles with that spare tank on its back.

A pretty much normal car, but as I was photographing it, it was photographing me.

I was parked right outside my job as I arrived for my shift. I didn't bother to ask the other dispatchers if anyone could afford it.

This was apparently just being used as a passenger car. I never saw the driver, so I can't tell you if it's his or hearse.

Emily and I both like camping, so I showed her this. But she said no. In my unpublished novel We Love Trouble, a couple and their dog travel around in a huge RV towed by an equally large pickup truck. I'm thinking of going to a former fire truck as above, but the logistics of maneuvering that thing around are pretty intimidating.

You can’t find our cars here, but here are some places to find us and our books:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

May 1st was the 10th anniversary of the publication of Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All. So the theme of this blog is: no, not that, it's "reviews".

 Authors often beg, and sometimes pay for, reviews of their books. (Note: I do NOT pay for reviews.) They're critically important for our success, both because they pump up our algorithms in various book seller and social media sites, and because they put the eyes of readers on your writing. Not literally. Ew.

Your review doesn't have to be as detailed as this one: A simple "I like this book", or even throwing some stars at it, helps greatly. Still, I really like this review, because, well, the reviewer thinks I'm funny. I've always said, if you can't be rich or have superpowers, be funny. Okay, I said it once.

In addition to the review, the Whatzup regional magazine also printed a 2016 article about the book's release, which you can find here:

Just in time for Indiana’s bicentennial comes a new history book, that compiles everything notable about our fair state through the ages into one tidy volume. Yes, it’s a book about Indiana history, but it is worth reading anyway, not just because you really should know something about the state in which you live (and in which you were probably born and raised, too) but because it’s written by Noble County native Mark R. Hunter, and he’s a pretty funny guy.

His take on Indiana history is thorough but irreverent, and even if you have to cast a skeptical eye on some of his historical claims (I honestly don’t think the prehistoric mounds in central Indiana were actually ancient outhouses), you’ll probably learn some new true facts about your state by the time you’ve finished the book.

In Hoosier Hysterical, Hunter begins almost at the very beginning of Indiana history. He doesn’t start with the Hoosier state congealing out of a mass of molten goo as the Earth’s crust solidified, but he picks up the story just a little later, when the first humans wandered into the land we know so well.

“Some of them made their way to Central America, discovered chocolate, and lived in paradise,” he writes. “Others took a wrong turn while circling Indianapolis, and boy, is that easy to do. They settled in the Midwest, imported corn from the much happier natives of Central America, and the rest is history.”

That history is the story that Hunter tells, from the settling of the eventual state by those early natives, to the later infiltration of the land by Europeans, to the centuries that the Indiana territory spent as a wilderness battleground where those Europeans fought off the natives and each other, established forts and settlements, and generally made a mess of things.

Hunter’s journey through Indiana’s history is long and detailed, but it sticks closely to the highlights you’d find in a drier, not so fun history book in school. You’ll find out about William Henry Harrison and Tecumseh and Anthony Wayne and Tippecanoe, and all those other famous names that you’ve heard about at one time or another, but can’t quite remember what it was that you were supposed to remember about them.

The book’s heavy on what happened before the state was a state, and what happened during the first hundred years that it was a state. The second hundred years, not so much. Hunter augments the history, though, with trivia—which is very closely related to history when you think about it. He gives us explanations of Indiana’s symbols (did you know Indiana has an official state rock?) and he crafts loving, if silly stories about all those Indiana things we’ve come to love by living here all our lives. He even tackles the greatest of all Hoosier mysteries, the origin of the word “Hoosier.” Of course, he doesn’t provide a convincing theory of the word’s origination (no one ever has or ever will) but at least he has fun trying. 

There are also many chapters about things that make Indiana special: the Indianapolis 500, the many famous people who were born here, the movies and TV shows that were either set or filmed in Indiana, the state’s many parks and natural attractions and many other tidbits and minutiae. Did you know that the famous Coca-Cola bottle design was created in Terre Haute? Neither did I, but now we both do. These are the kinds of things that make it possible to live with even a tiny bit of pride in a state that rarely makes it to the top of the lists of really important things.

We native Hoosiers have spent our lives in a state of constant self-deprecation. We’ve had to, having been born in a state that most other Americans wouldn’t be able to find on a map.

We’ve learned how to gently mock the state of our birth while maintaining a quiet affection for a place that is actually pretty nice if you really pay attention to it. That’s a balance that Hunter holds quite well throughout Hoosier Hysterical, and the book is one more Hoosier product that we can be proud of.

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You’re sure to find some places to review our books here, or at least buy them:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf