The Penn Hills Resort

For New Year’s celebrations, some prefer partying with throngs of lovely strangers in the city; some with many loved ones in a home furnished for social gatherings. This last year, the gang and I decided to do something a little different. We rang in the New Year in a game-laden hotel room, telling horrible stories of fiction one word and a time, eating family-restaurant chain congealed appetizers two hours before the drop, and, of course, trekking into the Pocono Mountains and visiting the fabled Penn Hills Resort.

The Vacant House

One evening, late, driving around the extremities of our county and edging into the unyielding farmland and fields encompassing our stretch of suburbia, we discovered another forgotten home, as we are wont to do.

The House of the Porcelain Incident

More often than not, we find these locations through binges of thrill-seeking and horror-related researches, whether it be through personal accounts or folklore and fiction, but as is often the case, reality is sometimes more terrifyingly impressive than the fiction that has accumulated with time. Normalcy can trump the macabre with the right elements, in terms of creating discomfort and getting under your skin.

Dodging Cropsey at the New York Farm Colony

Over the years, you become an accidental conglomeration composed of every personal interaction, every story you've told and have been told, and give some tangible connection to the infinite loose threads that every soul, every place, and every idea holds. You take these experiences and keep them, like little gifts, little secrets, that can surprise and resurface years later. This occurrence has not been a stranger in my personal life, with many stories, films, and off-hand conversations suddenly finding themselves boldly relevant in the contemporary.

One of the most recent iterations of this involves a piece of local lore, a portion of land in New York, and a documentary bearing an ending that inspired a sense of awe, curiosity, and existential discomfort, even long after the credits rolled. This film is Cropsey, and we found the since maintained, decaying grounds and hospital buildings in which the namesake of the documentary was said to (and perhaps, did) stalk, dwell, and hide his victims.

Six Mile Run

Per the norm in the group dynamic, and seeking a break in the slowly dying months of winter, we were desperate to get out, simply put. The months not inundated by inches and feet of snow or other bouts of nonsensical precipitation and natural detritus native to New Jersey were typically prime for sating our wanderlust. My friends had plans to get out and, having not known that I was not scheduled to work, quickly invited me for the ride to a location, once again, hidden right before us.

Four more years

Although the actual "anniversary" of the first upload was on the twenty-first, I am now taking a bit of time to commemorate the date. Our project (and as of yet, most prominent piece of digital media which is live) EverymanHYBRID is four years old.

And the journey continues...

"Code Junkie" is live

After a span of over two years that was, at times, fleeting, and at others, incredibly tedious, I have deemed my work on Code Junkie to finally reach its point where it is ready for a public audience and the loving friends and viewers who I have not yet had the chance to ask.

I believe in this story, of Kevin and his unfortunate circle of friends, of Deptford County, the small community in the Pacific Northwest, and of every life and individual they cross paths with. After rewrites and moments of reconsideration, I felt a tremendous amount of indecision at times and proceeded to give it my best. From the encouragement of family and friends, we have arrived at where we are now. More than a dozen rejections have come my way by traditional publishers and agents and that is alright -- that is the nature of the industry. I appreciated their consideration. I will continue to spread the story of Kevin and Code Junkie, but at its own pace. This was a labor of love.

I want to thank Cassandra, Heather, and Mr. Lawrence for being my guinea pigs in thoroughly reading, editing, and giving me their initial thoughts, before anyone else. This extends to Rachel, as well, although she was a few months after the fact. It is wonderful to have trusted friends give objective observations and reviews... only for them to affirm your work or help you out. I also want to thank Alec for going back and forth with me a dozen times in preparing the cover art -- he takes commissions if you need any work done and has an incredible style and range. Heather also helped to format it for finalization.

I never expected to monetize Code Junkie unless it was to be picked up by a publishing house, but having taken a route I did not expect to, I am going to mix it up a bit. If you wish to monetarily contribute, feel free. Think of it as a tip if you enjoyed the story, heh. It is always appreciated.

Thanks, again, for following me and my creative work. I intend for this to just be the beginning. Thank you, HYBRIDs, friends, family, and confused viewers stumbling across my nonsense. Much love.

Deptford County, Washington Welcomes You!

Code Junkie, on the web:
Buy on Amazon
Free Kindle app / browser-reading for those without a device