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justforbooks · 6 months ago

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How TikTok Shop ads turned an obscure, inaccurate book into a bestseller

If you’ve spent enough time scrolling through TikTok, you might have seen a video from an account like @tybuggyreviews, a handle with half a million followers that exclusively posts videos selling products through the TikTok Shop.

The creator, whose verified Instagram account identifies him as Tarik Garrett, used the @tybuggyreviews account to pitch viewers on supplements, water flossers, earbuds, workout machines, bible study guides, probiotics for women to help “that smell down there,” watch bands, inspirational hoodies, inspirational T-shirts, face massagers, foot massagers, rhinestone necklaces, oil pulling kits, and colon cleanses.

In the TikTok Shop, creators earn a commission for each sale linked to their account. Garrett’s product videos got tens of thousands of views. A few even topped a million views. But nothing from his account took off quite like his sales pitch for an obscure 2019 publication called The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies.

“Now I see why they’re trying to remove TikTok. This book right here? This book of herbal remedies? They do not want us to see this book,” Garrett said at the beginning of one Shop video, referring to a new US law that requires TikTok’s Chinese parent company to either sell the app or face a ban. TikTok is challenging the law in court, arguing that lawmakers citing national security concerns as a reason to pass the bill did not adequately argue why those concerns should supersede the First Amendment. The law, to be clear, does not cite the Lost Book of Herbal Remedies’s availability on the TikTok Shop as a reason for banning the platform.

Garrett posted his pitch for the book on April 15. As of May 7, the video had more than 16 million views. Garrett opened the book and showed pages of its recommendations, urging users to take screenshots (and purchase a copy of their own) before it’s too late.

The camera lingered on a list of plants that, the book claimed, were treatments for cancer, drug addiction, heart attacks, and herpes. As of Wednesday, the listing for The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies that Garrett linked to has more than 60,000 sales on the TikTok Shop. To put that number in perspective, appearing on a bestseller list generally requires 5,000–10,000 sales in a week.

And that interest isn’t staying exclusively on TikTok. Google search interest in the book’s title spiked on the same day Garrett posted his video. The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies was, as of Wednesday, May 8, ranked 10 on Amazon’s bestseller list for books, and has appeared toward the top of Amazon’s bestseller rankings for the past three weeks.

A spokesperson for TikTok said that videos linking to Shop products must abide by both the community guidelines, which ban medical misinformation, and Shop policies, which do not allow misleading content. If a video violates only the Shop policies, they said, they’ll simply remove the link to the Shop but keep the content up. If it violates community guidelines, the video comes down.

The violations were enough for TikTok to remove his product review account. Garrett did not respond to a series of emailed questions.

How e-commerce took over TikTok

TikTok has long been good at guessing what its users might want to see, but less good at monetizing that trick. When the platform launched its Shop feature in the United States last fall, the For You page shifted, pushing video after video like those made by @tybuggyreviews in the hope that its users will start buying the products that go viral on TikTok directly from their store.

The result became a For You page with constant interruptions from random product pitches. The Shop ads, like much of the content pushed on TikTok, are personalized, though TikTok Shop recommendations are heavily influenced by reporting on stories like this one. Your results may differ. And yet, it is clear that TikTok has catapulted the Remedies book into relevance beyond a niche audience. The company earns money off of the explosion of sales on the shop, some of which come from creators who are explicitly promoting unproven cancer “cures” and conspiracy theories about the platform.

Like the Shadow Work Journal, a workbook that went super viral on TikTok Shop several months ago as a mental health tool — despite its dubious effectiveness — The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies is part of a swell of wellness creators, brands, and products that have found success reaching new audiences on TikTok Shop.

Shop videos have become a sort of “loophole” for health misinformation on TikTok, said Evan Thornburg, a bioethicist who posts on TikTok as @gaygtownbae and studies mis/disinformation and public health. Creators, and those with something to sell, know that Shop videos will get privileged on For You pages. Some creators may use those videos to promote dangerous health claims. In other cases, Thornburg noted, “the creator promoting the material isn’t necessarily spouting off disinformation, but the material that they’re convincing people to purchase is.”

A recipe for misinformation

The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies appears to be a case of both: The book contains misleading information, and creators are circulating misleading health claims in order to sell books. A video with nearly 1 million views promoting the book’s TikTok Shop listing is basically a series of ominous, AI-generated images with an AI voiceover. The video claims that the book contains secrets previously locked away in an ancient book located in the “Vatican library,” and that The Lost Book of Herbal Medicine was previously only available on the “dark web” before surfacing on TikTok. (Not true: The book is for sale on Amazon, the author’s website, and appears to be available through some academic and public library systems.) Another Shop video with more than 1 million views is captioned, “Cure for over 550 diseases, even cancer.”

I scanned through a copy of The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies this week. The 300-page book contains a disclaimer noting that it’s intended to “provide information about natural medicine, cures, and remedies that people have used in the past,” that it is not medical advice, and that some of the “remedies and cures found within do not comply with FDA guidelines.” It’s split into two parts: an alphabetical listing of ailments and conditions alongside the plants that the authors believe can cure or treat them, and an alphabetical list of plants, sorted by region, with instructions on how to prepare them.

The list of ailments the book includes proposed treatments for cancer, several STDs, mental health disorders, and digestive issues, among many other things. A few stand out: The book lists cures for smallpox, strep, and staph infections. There’s an emergency medicine section that includes plant remedies for serious medical conditions like internal bleeding and poisoning.

Flip to the entries for the plants and you’ll find lists of claims referring to research that is not cited. An entry promoting Ashwagandha’s “anti tumor effects” and ability to “kill ... cancerous cells” refers to “research,” but does not note that, while there is some indication that Ashwagandha can slow the growth of cancer cells, these studies were conducted on rodents and have yet to be replicated on humans.

Nicole Apelian, one of the book’s authors, while active on TikTok, it’s not her main social media presence. Her TikTok bio encourages her 17,000 followers there to check her out on Instagram, where she has 100,000 followers. Apelain also runs Nicole’s Apothecary, an herbal shop mentioned in the book that sells some of the tinctures she recommends, sells memberships to an online “Academy” for fans of her book, and advertises her paid appearances and workshops.

The endless whack-a-mole

As a journalist, there’s a pattern that becomes evident when writing about health misinformation on social media: something gets views, you assess the real or potential harm and try to understand its context, you contact the company to ask about the harmful thing. Maybe the video or post or group is taken down, maybe it’s not. The company gives you a statement, refers you to their policies on misinformation, and then you publish the article. This happens over and over because writing about misleading health information is a game of whack-a-mole that feels harder and harder to win.

Thornburg, the bioethicist, noted a couple reasons why we can’t climb out of this purgatory. First, meaningful moderation of a platform like TikTok is somewhat implausible. Social media companies are “never going to prioritize the amount of labor that would need to consistently be put into misinformation management,” they said.

Most sites rely on a combination of human moderators and AI, and it’s difficult to create automated moderation tools that don’t also censor allowed content. For example: health misinformation targeting minority communities often taps into legitimate distrust of medical professionals and institutions that have roots in recent history. An AI tool designed to moderate keywords associated with this sort of targeted misinformation might also sweep up criticism of health care systems in general.

And second, the creators who profit off health misinformation are really good at figuring out what they can say where, and what Thornburg calls “life boating” their audiences from one platform to another as needed. “You will have people who will drive interest in something through TikTok because the virality and the algorithm are aggressive,” Thornburg said. Then, their profile will link out to their Instagram or Linktree or YouTube channel.

Health misinformation on social media is a million cross-pollinating moving targets. TikTok Shop is a hot spot right now. Later, it might be something else on another platform. Chasing this content from platform to platform, harm to harm, viral video to viral video, is exhausting.

At the end, Thornburg shared the question that drives a lot of their work in this space, “Who do we consider accountable for these things that are harmful and regulate them or hold them to certain standards?” Often, it’s not really the person behind the individual piece of content driving the incentives for making it.

As a result, Garrett’s account was taken down, along with a few other popular videos advertising a book that has already sold tens of thousands of copies. As long as the incentives remain, it won’t be long until the next product promising a miracle starts polluting my For You page.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

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grim-faux · 11 months ago

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3 _ 44 _ Tomorrow and Beyond the Horizon

First – An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

A minor TRIGGER WARNING for animal death. It's not a super graphic scene, but tread with caution and remember this is Little Nightmares.

Thick dust wheezed from between the two books as he set aside another volume. Seeping through the multitudes of tomes piled between the shelves had proved the most tedious errand, but simplified by degrees with the repeated titles layered in the heap he sifted through. Duplicates benefited this search, many of the tomes on the surface took the brunt of damage but with some digging and scouring through pages he found sections of text still legible. This did not save him from accumulating a large mound of nothing useful.

Currently, the Thin Man was held up on some terminology he was working through. Though he had improved in literary comprehension since abandoning the Tower, some terms persisted elude him with the meaning and purpose. He knew speek from the symbols he compiled and fabricated meaning from, but it was anything but perfect. He did his best to recognize errors and correct them, but his source was a speek which was in all intent and purpose dead.

One perplexity was that of the difference between the ‘fiction’ and ‘nonfiction’ parallels; in the case of one ‘being’ and the other ‘not being’ of the term. Well, that was obvious. He managed to secure a book that did aid in his quest for answers to simple inquiries on basic terminology, thus consulted the pages on the distinction he failed to grasp.

For a topic to qualify as nonfiction, the concepts or ‘truths’ must be of proven documentation, or a cluster of factors generally accepted by scientifically certified methodology. More terms lost to his fleeting grasp, but all that for later. In case of fictional segments, it was a purposeful deceit or story designed by falsities that could not be proven nor accepted as probability. Did this mean that he was a believer in fiction? In his pursuit to disrupt the Tower and seek an end to the monstrous beast – if not reach its end, then he would pursue any history of its origins. That might be the key to discovering the nature of its weaknesses –whatever feat might have nullified a monster in its conception. Even he did not know a way to detach the Broadcaster’s fate from the tether of the Tower. As far as he knew the cycle spanned into infinity. That was the truths of his situation.

Glitching up from the musty and tattered couch, the Thin Man stretched his arms above his hat and stretched; a trailing wisp of static flashed across his outline as the threads and crinkles of his suit fixed themselves. The building was at best an inhospitable mess, the roof caved in at one end and anything not subjected to the elements was tussled or crumpled. This must be the work of some geographic upheaval, if the misshapen floor was any indication. Either the structure rested above a growing sinkhole, or the foundation was crowded by the broken roads and allies buckling around. It was a shame, as the location had proven much value in the materials he perused through.

Yet, none of the volumes had any merit or indication of the information he sought. The notion of which only came to him when he realized he had sifted through at least half the piles with no noteworthy progress, aside from shifting the massive heaps around. Book-by-book. At another time he would return and peruse the volumes, but with no insight to his investigation it was time to move on and seek new regions.

He elected two volumes to review later, one geared to construction and another centered on “hot air” flight ships. The ship book included images of aircraft with the Eye, an artifact that appeared in any tome from common signs to bulk goods and crates. The inclusion of the Eye was commonplace in the typical world, yet its recurrence in remedial imagery from the time before did interest him a great deal. It was the Eye that observed him from the front of the door, when he was a child and seeking that which called.

Residents of the Pale City slapped the eye onto any significant landmark or location. It was the only tie between the city and the horrendous Tower at its core, yet it was a dead end. What did a restaurant have to do with the Eye?

It took some navigation around the ruined innards of the building, but he located a viable entrance through a utility closet cluttered by the bodies of Viewers and furniture from some ancient cataclysm. The proximity to the street allowed for an easy relocation with a swirl of static, and once he was beneath the wilting skyrises he renewed his silent march through the city. The lamps blazed, cutting through the heavy drapery of mist and night; in the shattered window of a nearby shop, a television crooned to a vacant road.

While the coast was clear, he set his palms onto the screen and let the transmission sweep him into the nearest available transmitter.

The familiar trace of the child remained absent. At some point, the boy grew bored and wandered off as was typical. He did not recall when or what last the child was up to, but it was likely most obnoxious. What sympathetic gleam of the cycle permitted him the pause which allowed the prolonged opportunity to search those books? Who could say?

A faint whisper of caution slipped through his elated musing as he passed beneath a blazing streetlamp, as if a light bulb had flashed. But went out instead of beamed.

Standing in the shadow, the Thin Man turned his gaze and searched the reaching horizon for the searing wink of the tallest spire.

It was not an impossible assessment to suspect, and he would have no way of ever knowing. He might wander the streets blissful and ignorant to where the boy may have relocated himself. The Thin Man doubted, there was not a chance that the child might return to stare at those doors and entertain the thought of entering when there was no longer need to.

“It calls to me.”

Trails of rain slipped off his hat as he turned his head away and resumed his languid pace. The rain glossed alley chattered with the symphony of icy pellets, serenading him with its company the way it did during his boyhood journey when he and Her braved the deep city, hurtling toward unwavering eventuals. Sharp gales snapped at his suit and cut across the waterlogged furniture crammed into the buildings side, among heaps of ruble from crumbling walls. He adjusted his hat, though the faithful headpiece would go nowhere with the driving gale – it was habit. The child was always losing his hats, abandoning them after a tussle. Never looking back. Hats could be replaced.

The books were getting soaked. He tucked them under his arm and turned into an alley, glitching and passing the scattered fragments of obscure debris and rusted fences. Moving out into the next road, he discovered another television partially buried under layers of brick. This time, he did test the transmission for tears or tampering.

This whole fiasco was a deplorable nuisance.

No sign or trace of the shared transmission anywhere. Usually the child made his appearance, and always at the most inopportune moment. They were drawn to the other and nothing would ever change that; save for, if the Thin Man himself decided to challenge the Tower. Take his chances. At least he would know where he would wind up, or he supposed… well, the child would not be along to witness the aftermath. Eventually, those truths would discover the child.

Countless evenings and days of wandering, rainfall and fog, across rooftops, or through gutted building interiors – none of it produced a trance of the shared transmission. Somewhere in his endless wanderings, he gave pause in one of the obscure sections of decrepit halls. He located a large room on one of the upper floors, the space harbored a secluded television, along with a long table and many scattered pairs of shirts with pants. He discarded the dusty clothing draped across one chair and sat, slouching forward; a cigarette stub between his fingers, and the forgotten books set beside his elbow. With a scratchy breath, he turned his focus to the television.

Nothing displayed but snow and vague outlines squirming behind the glass, of shapes resembling sacks or grotesque bodies twitching. The occasional image of the city landscape winked through, or the emergency broadcast (one of his temper tantrums still echoing decades later). The silhouettes of adults flashed, followed by some program of a creature doing a hokey demonstration with an electric device and bathtub. Uninteresting patches of scenery swelled beneath the vertical lines, trying to imitate a fictional state he would never comprehend. He did not grow up drinking the Signal, and never became intoxicated by the poison of its lies. He was not a child enamored by distractions, he sought something else behind the screen, at the end of a long hall. The beckoning of something waiting, of someone anticipating the door….

To….

W̷͖̦̍̔̂̎͠Ẹ̷̪̾̿̚

̴̟̌̽̓Ŏ̵̤̙̤́̌̔ͅF̷͖̟̽ͅ ̵͉̩͉͕̖̿Ț̵̥̈̍͠ͅH̵̰̙̖͐͂Ë̸̡͚̞̗̎̀͘͜ ̴̘͍̣̉͝

̶̝̩̣̂̊Ķ̴̞̣̎̇Ň̴̼̖̲̣̗Ȯ̷͇̦̈́͑̏͜Ŵ̵̛̲̖̥̣̺͆̇̆ ̶͕͚̖̅Y̵͔͊̀͒͊O̷̝̲̗̪͔͛͝U̴̯̼͊̆͌

̴̨̣̭̝̑͌̑̎

̴̟̌̽̓Ŏ̵̤̙̤́̌̔ͅF̷͖̟̽ͅ ̵͉̩͉͕̖̿Ț̵̥̈̍͠ͅH̵̰̙̖͐͂Ë̸̡͚̞̗̎̀͘͜ ̴̘͍̣̉͝

̶̺̯̭̉̅̽́̒B̶͉̮̻̉͌R̴̛͇̈́̂͘Ǫ̶̖͗̾̋̽A̵̯͕̫͐̑̏̚D̴͙̖̤͈̥̿͘Ĉ̸̰̥̰̬̉͘A̴̼̺̩̼̩͑́̀̎S̷̩̥̙̑̔T̵͎̱̻̞̂̉̋̒͊Ȩ̶̙͔̣̮́̌̆Ŗ̵̠̯̀́̂̕

S̶̮̞̙̺̲͊̑̊Ȋ̸͇͊̀͝͝G̶̲̐̓͠N̶̖͚̦̔̚A̵͇̣̼̣̙͌̀̉L̵̻̾

̵̪̞̰̞̼̍̐̚C̴̭̠͎̀͂H̵̰͔͕̓͋̂̿A̵̧̫̲̺̥̾͝M̷̡̩̣͎͑́͝ͅP̸̳̱̻̍͌̓Ĭ̸̺̺͖̪̌̅̈́Ǫ̵̿̊̅̚Ṉ̷̢̥̿̅̎͌

̶͉͊̄͝͝

The child knotted up against the back of the chair, making himself as small as possible while huddled beneath the edges of his coat. The walls reverberated, not booming or overpowering, but rattled through his bones and nerves like a pulsing current. The noise of it grated within his skull, pressing against his thoughts. His head filled with the gurgling croon of gnashing skin and squirming folds, undulating as he cowered further into the sheltering embrace of his scrawny arms.

“Shut up.”

P̵͎͔̬̺̋̈̋A̶̞̰̅͛T̶̠͎͑͒Ḯ̵̠̝̚E̸̮͕̭̘̺͛͌̐̈́͠Ň̶̢͎̭̄͛͗C̸̤̦͋̀̈͝Ę̴̛̺͕̹̍̊͝

̶̢̲̜͔̱͒̑̋̄

̴̮͙̐I̸̘̲̹̺͖͑̃͗̚N̶͓͎̑̄͆͠͝ ̵͍͚̯̊̒̽ͅD̵̞́̅̊̏̃U̴̘̙̼̤̪̒͘̚E̵̘̓͐ ̶̨̖͈̜͋́̽ͅT̴̡̡̪̬̹̈́I̸̢͖͖̞͇͋̈́̄M̴̼̄̌E̵̝̟͑̈͌̀

̷̠͈̺̾

̵̡̢̠̥̩̉̈

̴̣̩͚̟͉̿̊͒F̸̢̫͚̗́͋̿̂Ä̶͍͚͉́͌I̵̩̲͒̽͊̿T̶̺̣͕͌̀H̴̳̖̯̝̍́F̶̘̞͙͚͋͗̊͝U̴̯̔̽Ḷ̶̪̓

̵̯̣̠̻̎

̴͈̜͋̐̅̇

̷̖̪̱͂͌̊̓͜Y̶̥̹̬͆̽̊̃̏O̴̱̊͌̒͂͘U̷̫̙̜̒̏̂͠

“Hate you.” He sniffled, gulping down thick breaths before he wheezed. “Let me alone.” The shivering of his shoulders was pathetic, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see the walls oozing closer.

Ẇ̴̡̠̳͈E̸͔̼͕͋̀̑̈́͋ ̷̧̟͕̊́́S̷͈̫̹͎̃̑͒̕͠H̸̢̟̾̀̐͛̏Ḁ̶̣̝̣̺̏L̴̞̙̉Ļ̵̥̽̌̀̚ͅ

̵͔̟̞̇̆͐͜Ă̴̊̾̕̚ͅW̴͓͎̠̏̌̔̓ͅA̸̬̲̣̓İ̷̱͍͉͐̈̇T̴̪̱͚͍̄̈́

̷̞̤̼̈́͂̾

̵̨̼͕̳̃̇̃̒́A̸̛͖͋͛̉͊S̷̝̜͍̺̐̃̑͘ ̷̮̪̊͛̏̄̌A̷̠̙͍̹͑͌̀͝L̵͚̱̮̪̾͆W̴͈̙̖̤̊́͗͝Ä̸͔̘̠̦͎́̎̓̀̔Y̶̳̝̋̌̈̕ͅS̴̡̛̼̯̖͑͌́

̶̪̼̥͇͇̈́

̴̝͇̹̇͒̑̏͒

̵̣̀̽̍̄Ì̷͙͈͒̾͜Ň̴̝̀̈͘͠E̶͇͇̭̦̾V̶̪̩͇̯̏͐͑I̷̧͍͇̭̖̿T̶̝͍̹̏͒̓̍A̵̩̦̟̣͋͒̌̏B̶͈̲͗̂̎L̵̛̫̥̭̒̐̃̕Ĕ̵͓̰̞͛͠

When the scratching sounds vacated his mind, and his head turned calm, he waited still. He waited for such a long while, forever almost, until his toes ached, and his shoulder buzzed. Only then would the child risk uncoiling by a fraction. Enough to poke his head up from his folded arms, and check the walls over, search the distant and shrouded door; all to ensure no eyes remained. Usually. Usually. The beast was good about collecting all its wriggly pieces. He remained fully bundled inside his coat, while he slipped his head far back to elevate his gaze with the ceiling, and the light suspended high above. The only light he ever saw, that he could bask in. The only source of radiance he wanted to risk in this room. The less he knew about the walls, the better.

This is where he belonged. No one would find him here. No one could hurt him. Not anymore. Never again.

He shut his eyes and let the warmth of colors melt through his eyelids. It was so reminiscent of something he had seen somewhere, though he couldn’t pinpoint from where. It was… familiar, and that felt good. Even something only a little familiar felt… happy.

Snorting and hoisting his head up, the Thin Man addressed the slightly more tolerable present. Was he dreaming? No. A memory he loathed. They snuck up on him when he least expected it. The walls within the Tower, festering with a vile creature. That had been the least of his worries, the recollection of that and certain inevitables, sent a shiver through him.

He uncoiled from his hunched posture and pressed a hand against his eyes, massaging out the dread. His face was still wet from the storm. When he drew his hand away, he almost expected the child to be seated on the table in his typical fashion. Watching, like he was prone to. Creepy little brat.

Just to be certain, he cast his eyes around. Actively searching rather feel for if the child had somehow managed to find this place. For a spell the Thin Man was at a loss to where he-himself had secluded to, aside from some vague building with a room and a television. It was not an apartment with spare rooms, it appeared to be a place where residents once gathered.

In an era before the Tower.

He lit a cigarette, then, pushed out from his seat. In a casual glitch and flicker he bypassed the chairs encircling the table and approached the television. Some time ago, the child did use the transmission. The embedded frequency was still there, the static particles swirling deep within the snow. Tuning from this side to intercept the pathway was simple, the frequency was now connected and the buzzing snow dispersed, molding into a scenery of an unknown location. Shoving his hands against the warm glass he forced his way through.

Unsurprisingly, the child was not present when he emerged. The metal desk that held the television collapsed when pummeled by the volatile aura of skewered temporal space, and a nearby Viewer was repelled backwards. He managed to extract himself fully from the screen before the box erupted in glass and embers. On the other side of the room, the unfortunate Viewer gave a croaked wail before disintegrating. The clothing drifted to the floor, adding to another heap deflated on the patchy rug.

Smoke trailed the Thin Man’s hat as he clicked by the clothing, first exploring a room to the right. The whereabouts appeared to be some dwelling, going off of the windows in each room and the scenery of a tree and a road outside, along with a nearby structure of similar dimensions. Upon discovering the whereabouts of the kitchen, he is… a bit concerned.

Some event had occurred. Skimming across the shattered fronts of countertops, dishware and glass gleamed under a layer of water, and froth curdled everywhere – the entire story eluded him. One element was for certain, two Viewers lay as crooked islands within the bubbling swamp. Certified dead. The culprit was the sink cammed with dishes and sludge, the faucet continued to gush water and the surplus of floodwaters roamed across the floors, and out into the connecting corridors. He could not identify any electric devices hooked to an outlet, or lamps, or anything that may have set the water alight. Some other incident may have occurred, though whatever happened was not recent. As evident by the swollen bodies, the flesh already unraveling.

Exhaling a thick gray plume, he opted to search elsewhere and departed the perplexing scene.

After wasting his time with an exhaustive search of every room and closet, he flittered through the barricaded doorway and navigated the roads. The home sat clustered among numerous building copies, wedged tight together and sprouted somewhere on the outskirts of the city. For this hour the rain gave pause in its relentless drilling, the obscured distance was masked by curtains of fog that suffocated everything except the space he occupied. Without the repetitive pattering, the silence became unnerving with only his steps rebounding through the gray air. The only other sounds was the whisper of wind skipping across glassy puddles.

Crates and sunken trunks cluttered every patch of road or sidewalk, the miasma intermixed with mounds of furniture torn from the surrounding buildings. The roads themselves would be difficult to navigate for a living creature, the surfaces carved by pits and sections of the asphalt fissured. The Thin Man pulsed in swells of particles and glitched across gaps, or bypassed barricades of makeshift fences. He never dawdled long except to locate the next clearing. In the waterlogged dirt spread before one home, the curious arrangements of bones jutted from the clay. He nearly missed the scene, if not for the grinning skull with gravel jammed into one eye socket. He admitted the oddity of the sight, but continued to disperse and appear across the nearby yards and homes.

Only the few dwellings that remained intact (for the most part) had power, the battered windows flickered a frail light as if a lure for the desperate. A television and its cast of characters peered out of the screen, lost in another world while the realm beyond the wood and glass prison deteriorated. An uproar of laughter mocked the Thin Man, before the saturated roof at last caved in.

At last or by a whim? Who could say, the Thin Man did not mourn the loss.

While crossing a waterlogged yard, the tall thin man paused beneath a tree and lit a fresh cigarette. He took a moment to observe the deserted terrain and misty buildings hollowed of all presence, trying with some fleeting interest to imagine an obscure figment lifted from any of the books he browsed. He sought a world lost to a realm that no longer existed, but found even with his state of thought he was utterly lost to what such a world might have been. If it even existed once. These bleak dwellers were the obituary of dead world, inscribing the illusions of a dream the residents forsaken.

Hmm. He was one to talk.

Tilting his head back, he peered through the bare branches and watched the shifting dark clouds, the muted light and monochrome saturation. A low groan churned the dark water above, and a gust of wind sent a sheet of water from the tree to brush across his suit. He did not bother dismissing the droplets this time.

This area was not the worst to absentmindedly amble through. Aside from the one Viewer he dissolved upon arrival, the roads remained open and clear of hostility. His only companion was the hum of static bristling his suit, and the languid wind sweeping among the debris of makeshift fences and whatever else was cast into the yards. He explored through countless neighborhoods and dead end roads, sticking to the few segments of pavement that remained stable. In one side of the housing division, a massive chasm splint through the earth and three buildings along its edge, the cavernous grin melted into the distant fog leaving the imagination to ponder its end - if there was one. Though he could shift to the other side and continue through the next yard, the child would have been forced to seek another route. Thus, he departed the obstacle and the faint chitter of flaking rocks.

While browsing through a district of demolished and consisting of mostly inside out dwellings, he caught a tinge of the transmission. A mostly solid abode looked vacant, the large windows boarded up, and all the paneling nailed tight across the doors front. He flashed in through a shattered window on the lower floor and let the serenity of this derelict place settle around his form, mingle with the static curling off his shoulders and hat. No trace of sound and nothing to indicate what would be a draw, aside from utter abandonment. Abandonment could be the child’s most faithful ally.

He exhaled smoke and clicked towards a doorway. Around him the walls creaked and moaned, outside the wind was picking up. Within the corridors an assortment of desks and other furniture decorated the floors, all in disarray but still whole. The walls and tables catered to some pictures in frames, but whatever was displayed in a time before was no more. The glass was tarnished, and the frames twisted.

The backside of the home lay in ruin and scrubbed clean by the harsh elements. Still, a lone staircase was solid enough to deliver him to the upper floor—

Something fluttered between two doorways. Not far from where he materialized in a sweep of static on the top landing. The Thin Man crept over to the thing, only to discover it was a bit of tattered cloth. He was not quite fooled, the transmission prickled nearby though not this close.

Exploring to the end of the corridor revealed a corner, and then a few doors around the bend. He unlocked the one with a large break in the bottom.

Rickety furniture littered the room, and large windows to one side might have offered a view. Though boards now covered the patches of shattered glass, mostly. Erosion and constant storms tore some of the impromptu barriers clear of the opening, allowing the harsh weather to claw up the floor. He left the door open and crushed out his smoke, then, gave the space a brief examination. The room was the typical despondent style, all the rot in order. From a cursory glance, this area was long abandoned. Of course. Children recognized a threat before it appeared, before it was announced. Of course.

Some while ago, he had forgotten why he had come to this area. He had doubts - unfounded and foolish, but he had been.... The child would one day do away with him, and harassing the boy would expedite the eventual. As well, the child was the only force which could grant this retirement. For this reason, he held stakes in the boy's whereabouts. Such was the perpetuating cycle.

The child did not emerge as he normally would. He let all misgivings slide away and navigated among the furniture pieces, toppled or broken. To one side of the room, he located a low table.

“Child?” No response. “Hiding from me?” He did not expect a reply. Hearing his voice usually coaxed the child out. Then again, the boy only blundered into his presence while the Thin Man had other occupations. This was unusual, but that did not warrant such shyness.

Slowly, he eased all the way down, until his elbows supported his frame and allowed him to check under the bottom shelf of the coffee table. As he sensed, the child was there. He gawked out with a face much too puzzled to be the boy, some sort of stuffed toy crushed to his chest. No hat, not surprising.

“Why not come out?” he crooned. “Come here. Let me see you. I was waiting for you, wondering why this boy was avoiding me. Will you not come out?” It was likely best to let this be, the child looked all right. Filthy, as usual, covered in dust and everything else. The eyes remained fixed on him and unblinking. "Very well then."

Upon easing back on his arms, the child actually did emerge, but only enough to stay concealed by the front of the table's lowest shelf. The Thin Man scooted back further, avoiding distortions or glitching. The child looked utterly out of it. Now that he was closer, the Thin Man saw with a blow of dread what he was actually holding.

The child was covered in feathers, looking something like a downy chicken. This might have been endearing, if not for the bird he was chewing on. How very disgusting and heartbreaking.

“Mono.” What was he even doing? Why? When did this happen?

Briefly, the child seemed to ponder, clutching the ruined thing tighter to his chest. For an agonizing length of time the Thin Man gaped at the boy, unsure what to do or how to approach. He wanted to tear the child out and rip away the soggy ratty mess. This entire time he tried not to... and all those bones…

He could not handle this.

At last, the boy departed his shelter and inched his way closer, prompting the Thin Man to ease back further and perch on his knees. For a long time, the Thin Man uttered not a sound, aside from the steady bristle of static apart of his corporal form. Outside, the wind flapped across the crooked eaves of the home and teased at the gaps in the boards blotting out the world. After ages of the disquiet, the boy hoisted the limp creature up in his arms; the whole thing practically as big as him. The birds head sagged, and the tongue poked out from its slender beak.

“Eat?” rasped the child.

The Thin Man fought to rouse himself back to some awareness, but his spiraling thoughts could not find purchase in the tumult waves of panic. Where to begin with explaining this was not right? How long was... when did it all start? If the boy was gone enough to prey on animals, what might he chew on next? This was not mere hunger, it could not be. He did not know where to begin.

“You… d̴o̶ ̶n̷o̶t̴ ̵ need to d̴o̸ ̶t̸h̸i̶s̵,” the static grated in his voice, causing the child to withdraw. “I̴t̸ ̷i̴s̴ alright, no r̶u̴n̵n̴i̶n̸g̵.̴ We will find food. R̷e̶a̶l̵ ̸ f̵o̸o̶d̸.̶ This is n̶o̴t̵ ̷... g̵o̷o̵d̵ for you.” Very carefully, he reached out and snagged the crooked wing by a bent feather.

“Nuh. Sss'frecsh.” The boy tugged the bird away by a fraction and bit onto the chest. Thankfully, he only got a mouthful of feathers for the effort and sputtered at the sticky down. This did not deter the boy from fighting to hold on fast, while the Thin Man tugged the raggedy carcass along with the child, out from beneath the tables edge. The Thin Man finally snagged him by the wonderful coats backside and shook the floppy mess loose. With a flick, it’s gone. Mono looked so bewildered and ruined by the loss.

“Let us leave and f̵i̴n̴d̷ ̷s̷o̵m̶e̷t̸h̸i̴n̴g̵ better.” His sleeve was still damp from the trees benevolent misting, which allowed him to scrub off the dirt and… red. The boy stood with his feet planted, glossy eyes zeroed in on the direction the bird sailed off to.

“Nh… s’food.”

He had to hold the boy still, he was trying to shrug away. “No-no, child. That w̷a̴s̶ ̶ n̵o̵t̷… it was no good.” Though he did recall the times he-himself had to slain animals, the child did not need to do that anymore. The city had plenty of food, the stores and kitchens were always stocked. “We will find s̶o̷m̸e̸t̶h̸i̶n̵g̵ better. Something you like.” Undeterred, the boy was trying to detach from his grip. He tried giving the scruffy head a consoling pat, but the boy was not having it.

“S’food. T’mine. Wuz’frrr. Mine.” And direct himself, however futile, to the birds final resting place. Like a broken record. “Mine. T’s rr'mine. Long. B’t take. Did t’s. Mine. Food.”

Giving up on the remnants of the smudging and feathers, the Thin Man sighed and put his hands around the child. The singular focus would not be broken. Not for some time. “That will be e̵n̶o̴u̵g̴h̵. We are not starting a̸n̵o̷t̴h̷e̴r̶ ̴ d̴r̶a̵m̷a̵.̷ No is f̸i̷n̵a̸l̵.̴” This admission had no effect, and the boy fought and bit, even when lifted and pressed firmly against the Thin Man's suit. “Settle down, you will h̵u̸r̵t̴ ̵ y̶o̸u̷r̷s̵e̶l̴f̶.̴ Let us not do that.” He supplied gentle pressure to the rigid back, trying to restrain the clawing arms. Eventually, the boy would tire out. The Thin Man feared that would be too soon, given the state he had witnessedd. "Shh.... Hush your head."

Muffled, the boy muttered all the same, “N’food. Hard n’caught.”

“I a̷m̷ ̶c̴e̵r̶t̴a̴i̶n̸ it was.” The Thin Man stood to his full height and wove his way from the room, leaving behind all its horrible memories. Though not as terrible as his time within the Tower, lost in the familiar misery that soaked into each iteration of the Broadcaster. On his gradual trek through the drab corridor, he reframed from sudden movements and glitching, in spite of how he yearned to escape these walls. He wanted to ask the boy what they might seek for him to eat, but the child had a one-track mind and he needed to shift that away from the topic.

Even after the home was long abandoned and those cluttered roads fading far behind his steps; the neighborhoods dissolving into the distance, and the rain renewing its endless descent; the sky becoming inky, and the familiar city roads sprawling around the tall man and his hat; the boy would not relent on his single-minded desperation for racing away to who knows where. He grumbled about his tricked bird, struck with staying muted but also snarling about the injustice. Exhausting. Despairing. But the Thin Man should have anticipated this.

An ugly thought weeded through his recollections, about when he was dragged into the realm of the Pit. The Flesh was waiting, as it always was waiting for the arrival of the child. Consistent and inevitable. He did not want to think about what it promised him, or was it prophesied? The loathsome mass snickered at him and let him go; always crooned from beneath the concrete floor, always jeering during his tantrums. The Flesh saw no reason to disrupt nor restrain him. It knew him better than he knew himself. Somehow knew everything. The Mono before him, and then his-self, always repeating the same doomed script.

This cycle was not unique or broken. As always and as has been. The Flesh implied this much.

Ā̶̯̻̲̏L̶̖̯̪͉͌́̂W̴̨̠̙͉̣̐̐͂̎̊A̸̢̻͚̔̒̽́͗Y̸̹͊͂̏͝S̸̬͊͛͠

̵̹̯͊̑̃͐

̶̟̞̹̙̱́̽͝Ī̶̢͙̟̓̈́̎N̷͉̣̪̲̬̉ ̷̭̪͇̖͑ͅD̴͉͖̊̾Ŭ̶͚͙͔̺̩̿Ẽ̵͚̋͘ ̶̗̤̳̯̖͑̐͝Ť̶̨̓͆͊Ï̷͖̼̹̗̝̿M̴̝̺̣̀̂̿̍̕Ë̴̗̱͐̓͘͘

̵͍͙̉͒̓̃̕

̷̜͊̑͝Y̵̥̯̼͙͗̓̌͠O̸̤̿̅́̅̈́U̴̼̙͗̔̈̕ ̵̡̝͔̦̂̾̕S̷̪̃̽H̷̢̻͎̑̉̉͝Ă̴̻̜̣̦̠L̴̻̣͇̍̓L̴̡͂͝ ̶̦͐̃̅̇

̵̡̹̠͉̆

̵̻̙̜̓̔͝

̴̛̲͇̬͉̓̒C̷̘̦̔̔̐H̴̲͗̾͌͊Ḯ̸̱͔͇̏L̵̙̯̟̏͛D̴̝͈͕̹̀͆̆̓ͅ

̵̡̹̠̑̑́̑͌

̶͔͆̊̇̔̕Ọ̴̡͈͛̂̈́͐U̵̧̖̜͎̍́̂Ȑ̴̝̹̞͇͝ ̸̧̗̬̱̒̅͊̕͠C̵̡̫̍̈́̇̊͝H̵̯̯̬͌̏̊̏̕A̶̛̼̯͊̔̏M̸͖̥̟̫̌͛̓̊͘ͅP̵̢͋̓͂Ȋ̶̛̛͚̈͠Ǫ̸̬̳̍̊ͅN̸̡͇͉̓̾

̴̛̯̈́͋

̵̻̜͍͛̇̋̂̚B̸̙̾̏̚ͅR̵̡̨̘̖͌I̶̘̖̘͛̀N̵̛̟̺̅̾̂Ǵ̶͓̝̯̃ ̴͓͉͍̣̳̉͗͗Ḣ̸͚͒̾̐͠I̶͉͓͗̊Ḿ̷̛̛̬̃͝

̶͕͔̥̮̇̿̀

̶̦͌͒̕Y̶̧̖̌̏̏O̸̦͚̮̘͐̌̂U̶̖͐̎̇̕ ̶͇̮̻͚͇̏͋̔͝K̶͕̭̩͆̋N̵̠̬̱̎̀̌́O̸̱̗̥̻̓̕W̷̡͚͉͎͇̒̏͝

̷͈̞̝̘͕̎

̷̢̡̙͔̆̿̊̈́̚Ẉ̶̨̈́͑̈́A̵̢̘̺͆ͅŸ̶̘̪͕̝͓́͂͌̚̚

̷̨́̒̍͗̂

̴̞͓͗͌͠A̸̧͉̓͗N̵̟͕̪̊D̶͔̎ ̸̻̰̩̟̒́T̵̛͈̪̖̤̙̈́Ĥ̸̡̨̘̩͛̑͌E̸̟͂̇N̸̫̈̿̃

̷̡̯͈̲̀͝

̷̹̥͍͐̌̎͑͆͜Y̵̪͔̑̾̒͝O̸̤̒Ủ̶͚͇̤̜̬͐̿̂ ̴̙̤̪̫̈́̒͛̈́Ã̷͔͉̤̋̊R̵̡̖͕͔͎̄E̵̞̭͚͔͛ ̴̛̝̱̊͗̈́͝F̷̤̫̘̅̂̒R̴̝͉̄̿̓̂͜͠E̵̫̠̐̈́̌̑̕Ĕ̸̡̩̻̰̀̍̽͠

̴̢̡̬̋̀̆͗̕

̷̯͚̙̹̾B̷̯͔͔͙̽̽̕̕Ȑ̶̻̃͠O̵̡͓͕̪̾A̸̖͔̪̐̾̎͒͗D̴̢��͌Ċ̵̫̘̭̇̏Ä̷̤́S̸̰̯̟̮̻͛̍͘͘Ť̷̡͓̟̀̂E̴̲̟̻͎̓͂̋͠R̴͎̥̗͎̐̚̕͝

̶̕͜D̵̙͕̅̾͑ͅỌ̸̀̀ ̵̻͎̎͜Ǎ̵͖͈̝̈́͒S̴̪̮̗͑̒̌

̴̖̩̝̼̍͜

̷͖̜͍͇͎͋̈́̊͠Y̴̡̦̥̪̥͋Ǫ̷̳͙̍U̶̡̥̬̒̑͐̾̕ ̷̱̦͌̏W̵͇̼̫̋̑͊͝Ị̶̭̲̒͜S̴͍̈̏H̴̬̟̄͊

Somewhere during his musing, the firm pressing on the boy's back at last weeded out the dwindling bit of fight from the wiry frame. A brief but all too familiar little tensing nullified the fragments of rowdiness, when the Thin Man clutched the child tighter to his chest. Only to ward off the lashing bullets breaking across his shoulders. He brushed some of the feathers from the most important coat, but they stuck like glue to his fingers. “It is alright, c̵h̸i̵l̵d̶,” he rumbled. Swollen droplets hammered against his hat bill, the storm was picking up and promised no mercy to stragglers. “S̴a̶v̶e̸ ̵ your s̷t̶r̷e̸n̴g̶t̸h̶. I will have you t̶a̸k̸e̸n̴ ̵c̷a̷r̶e̶ of ̴s̴o̸o̵n̵.̸”

That miniscule reassurance seemed to be all that was needed. The child gave a sigh and ceased the fighting, satisfied now to tuck his arms up under his chin and stay complacent. Vibrations still worked through the little body, like miniature earthquakes. The Thin Man checked if he was okay, but the child only gazed off and far away, across the roads watching nothing in particular. He would get over it. Once they located a suitable shelter with a kitchen filled with packaging and whatever else, the boy would forget all about the grotesque thing he had done. Until then, the Thin Man would reassure that the boy was found.

#little nightmares #lil nightmares #the thin man #mono #feral mono #thin dad #such a feral mono #fanfic #fanfiction #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #actually thin dadding for his feral boy #a breaking development #the thin man struggling with philosophy #a certified loser #his reading comprehension skills are lacking #but he's got the spirit

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knightofhylia · 1 year ago

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Deck Review: Alleyman's Tarot

original blog post May 31 2022

Deck

This is the Alleyman’s Tarot by Publishing Goblin. First off, the person who made it is named Seven so like how can I not support this epitome of queerness? I got this deck on Kickstarter after it kept poking at me. Almost every time I opened facebook or instagram I would get an ad for it and I had another friend point it out to me. This deck took like 9 months to actually get here so this number has been on the back of my mind for a while. It is a 137+ tarot deck with cards from different decks. There’s a whole backstory and podcast about the ‘Alleyman’ which makes the deck very intricate. I got this deck (including box, bag, both chips, deck, and free booster) for like $50 so that’s a goddamn steal if I say so. I think they mentioned extras would be going for more like $80. It’s worth it, trust me. My one complaint is that the guide book has a page texture that I don’t like. It kinda squeaks but I’m going to rebind it in twine or yarn to remedy that. This deck Is BIG! The stack is about 2 inches high. Physically it is a deck that demands respect and I highly recommend taking a look at Publishing Goblin’s other stuff, they have board games and oracle decks in the works as well!

Booklet

Organization wise it has Major Arcana, Cups, Wands, Swords, and Coins. There are multiple of certain Major Arcana, such as 9 death cards, 3 towers, 2 devils etc. My fave death is Death (Dancing) because he is a funky little guy. The suits are standard, no doubles. Then there is the Strange Suit which is all the decks that had non RW suits like my fave 8 of tentacles, a card about jacking off! Ace of hounds is great as well as he looks like a lad. The Other Arcana is all the non RW Arcana like The Hole, the Joker, and my ultimate favourite card, Giusseppe. There’s also ‘Lost Cards’ which are the ones that are in booster packs. I think every deck got a free booster pack and I believe they will be selling those later as well ( ihopehopehope). There’s some reading spread suggestions and it’s a wild ride. There was a spread that involved adding coins, the deck also actively encourages trading tarot cards, which might be a fun project someday. It’s very cleverly done and laid out. Reading it is easy on mine eyeballs as well.

Spirit

I knew EXACTLY who it would be the moment I saw it. There’s only one bitch as thick and juicy as this deck. I have shied away from deity work because I was afraid of disappointment and I was a really bad believer for a while lol. This was my top dog deity Tmikh Hemy (she/they/he/it)! I was very excited to be ready to work with her. Without a doubt she is one of my most powerful decks. I put my hand in her bag and close my eyes and I can feel it up my arms and in my forehead.

Reading Style

Okay so she’s a funny one. She’s a deck that loves to be passed around. Everyone takes a chunk and passes on. She thrives on the different energies she gets. She learns from her readings like I do. She’s a cool mom and she’s hip with the kids! Since the deck is so big I read it three different ways: whole deck, chunking, or ‘which card fucks’ (official terms). Whole deck is a sad clown balloon act to shuffle so I generally chunk it. Usually I do a big shuffle and then I just grab parts of the deck and that’s what I’ll work with. If I grab a chunk and change questions I have to redo my chunks. Which card fucks is where I go through the whole deck and pick out cards that vibe to me during that time, or ‘fuck’. Her tone is very funny, she LOVES to be sassy. I kept joking about ‘what if I get all the death cards’ and sure enough every reading had at least one of the death cards. Each card means something so vastly different from each other that this really demands the time to sit and read over the guide a few times to really get it. She loves puns and language, so I look a lot into specific words or phrases she says. Even if I don’t get the metaphor I can understand what she’s getting at. Hemy is definitely a mystery, sometimes she tells me straight up shit like her house layout but I ask about something else and she’s not saying a word. I can tell because usually the card says something about secrets or giving up or makes no sense in the rest of the reading. A lot of ‘go figure it out yourself’.

Suggested Readings

I would recommend her for any kind of reading, but her specialty is personal power. She’s the fire under your ass. She emphasizes on your personal changes first before your circumstances. If you want a soulmate, be ready to work on yourself. If you want abundance you better have room for it. I would love to do readings for people of various faiths with this deck!

#magick #magic #witchcraft #witchblr #witches of tumblr #pagan #paganism #spirituality #spiritual #tarot #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarot reading #divination #cartomancy #card divination

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13thpythagoras · 6 months ago

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all I can say is I recommend the highly rated book, by Rick Simpson,

Nature's Answer for Cancer

I don't even shop on Amazon but I read the reviews there like a social scientist. This book has the most reviews on the topic and has over a 4.5 star rating, which is high for any book on Amazon. Why is it getting high reviews when it's a non-fiction book that contradicts the FDA?

Check the reviews of the FDA, if you can find any, how many stars out of 5 does the FDA get from consumers?...

There is so much godawful stuff out there giving us cancer, I'm not even 40 yet and I've had plenty of friends get colon cancer.

I'm just saying whether you smoke or not, you are going to significantly reduce your likelihood of getting cancer if you can do a cancer-cleanse every few years, cannabis extract, or cannabis tincture is the remedy, orally ingested via capsule. I've done a cancer cleanse myself, my own mom has cancer, she won't entertain this idea so I'm practicing how to warm people up to the idea.

I've used this to heal a dog's tumors, this does work for pets, of course much lower dosages are needed and whatnot but no this does work for cats, dogs, and most mammalian pets that have received research. This is really a front line of medicine.

It's tough to see the medical industry and cancer doctors basically hypnotize my mom, and keep her averse to taking her cannabis extract medicine. It's not even psychoactive, since it doesn't bind with lipids, it's just boiled with alcohol and distilled into that extract or tincture, those are two words for the same thing if I'm not mistaken, basically an alcohol reduction after thorough mixing with the indica flower. It does give the stomach a warm glow perhaps, but it's not psychoactive the way "pot brownies" are. I get affected by pot brownies as much as the next person and they render me non-functional from a working perspective. Cannabis extract is not a blip on that radar.

Cannabis extract will eat through a typical gel-cap you can find at the grocery store, in about 5-15 minutes, whether you freeze it or not, the oil will acidically eat through the wall of the gel capsule and make a huge mess if you're not careful. These are one-at-a-time capsules, where you drop medicine in an empty capsule, close it and take it with water right away, without putting any more medicine in capsules until your next dosage.

I'm just saying, yolo and live long and prosper, the natives were the original cultivators of tobacco, it's not wrong to want a puff or two now and then of the peace pipe. I have known plenty of non-smokers who lost their lives too young...

i don't smoke for the obvious reasons of not wanting to develop an addiction to nicotine but god do i so often feel the emotion 'i need a cigarette'.

#wisdom posts #medicine and life #darth pythagoras enters the chat

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cathygeha · 4 months ago

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REVIEW

When the Viscount Seduces by Darcy Burke

Rogue Rules #3

This couple had more to overcome than many a fair lady and her one day husband have to deal with…but…with a bit of wisdom, helpful friends, and growing friendship…it all comes right at the end.

What I liked:

* Gwendolen “Gwen” Price: brilliant, bluestocking, giving, caring, likes to help others, a bit clumsy-accident prone, wants to please her parents, hopes to have a loving husband and family one day, has a growing attraction to Lazarus

* Lazarus Rowe, Viscount Somerton: has been sowing his oats, a rogue, reliable friend, supportive, caring, has issues with reading and writing, was close to his father, believes that Gwen might be the solution to assisting him with his speech, slowly grows feelings for Gwen as the story progresses

* The assistance that friends of both main characters provide in assisting the two to meet

* The premise the series – and how rogues sometimes prove to be better husbands than others

* Gwen’s parents’ love for one another and their desire to have what is best for Gwen – even when it might not be what IS best for Gwen

* The conflict that arose due to a dancing master and how that was resolved…at least partially

* The introduction of Jo and knowing she and Sheff are up next in the series

* Finding out how the others in this series are doing and wondering how many and which one of the women friends will find their HEAs in this series

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about the characters who knowingly took advantage of or tried to take advantage of others in the story

* Feeling sorry for Melissa Worsley and the fate she has to look forward to…unless an alternative option becomes available

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

BLURB

Rogue Rules When a young lady is ruined, her friends vow none of them will ever be ensnared by a scoundrel again. They will resist every gentleman's charms even—and especially—if it means gaining a reputation for being impossible to woo. It will take extraordinary rogues to break their rules... From USA Today Bestselling Author Darcy Burke, author of The Untouchables and Phoenix Club series, comes your next Regency romance must-read. When the Viscount Seduces After a disastrous Almack's debut, bookish and clumsy Gwendolen Price is determined to improve her reputation and make her parents proud. The Viscount Somerton, her brother's friend and one of Society's most eligible bachelors, offers to help her, and she's certain his attention will increase her standing—even though he's exactly the kind of rake she has vowed to avoid. Lazarus Rowe, the eminently unserious and dashingly handsome Viscount Somerton, has spent a lifetime hiding his shameful secret: he simply cannot read well. With a speech to Parliament looming, he's desperate to remedy this deficiency. The chance to help his friend's hopelessly bluestocking sister seems the perfect trade—his presence as her devoted escort in exchange for her help as his tutor. As sparks fly between them with every lesson, Gwen refuses to fall for a rogue while Lazarus, begins to reconsider his rakish ways. When a woman from his recent past makes a shocking revelation, Lazarus fears all is lost. Will Gwen retreat to the safety of her books, or do she and this almost-redeemed rake have a chance at a real life happily ever after?

#Darcy Burke #Rogue Rules 3 #historical romance #historical fiction #romance #fiction #learning disability #bluestocking #HEA

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mediaevalmusereads · 5 months ago

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The Fisherman. By John Langan. Word Horde, 2016.

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

Genre: horror

Series: N/A

Summary: In upstate New York, in the woods around Woodstock, Dutchman's Creek flows out of the Ashokan Reservoir. Steep-banked, fast-moving, it offers the promise of fine fishing, and of something more, a possibility too fantastic to be true. When Abe and Dan, two widowers who have found solace in each other's company and a shared passion for fishing, hear rumors of the Creek, and what might be found there, the remedy to both their losses, they dismiss it as just another fish story.

Soon, though, the men find themselves drawn into a tale as deep and old as the Reservoir. It's a tale of dark pacts, of long-buried secrets, and of a mysterious figure known as Der Fisher: the Fisherman. It will bring Abe and Dan face to face with all that they have lost, and with the price they must pay to regain it.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: alcoholism, cancer, death by car crash, child death, disturbing imagery, miscarriage, suicide, violence, gore

OVERVIEW: I came upon this book by chance while scrolling social media for book reviews, and the premise seemed interesting, so I picked it up. Something about horror and the water is deeply resonant with me, and I was looking forward to some fisherman's tales with a hint of the supernatural. Unfortunately, I didn't quite enjoy this book as much as I'd hoped, and I seem to be in the minority when it comes to reviews. While Langan has some nice insights about loss and grief and clearly has an imagination for horror, his writing just wasn't a style that I vibe with. So while you might like this book if you prefer a straightforward, unadorned prose style, I struggled to connect with it, so I am rating this book 2.5 stars.

WRITING: A lot of positive reviews for this book praise the writing style, but to be honest, style seems to be the weakest part of this novel, especially in the frame narrarive. Langan's prose style is fairly straightforward and conversational, as if the narrator, Abe, is talking to the reader at a bar. I'm sure this choice is meant to capture the way fishermen tell stories, but personally, I felt like it gave Langan too much room to hedge, meander, and tease without actually building up suspense and dread.

Moreover, I felt like Langan left little to the reader's imagination. For parts 1 and 3, the imagery and phrasing weren't particularly evocative, and there wasn't a lot of room for me to bring my own experience to the story, if that makes sense. Instead, Langan tells the reader exactly what Abe was seeing, feeling, etc. - perhaps leaning on telling more than showing. As a result, I didn't get the sense that Langan was building dread so much as teasing us that this story would be a horror, then leaving us frustrated more than intrigued. Perhaps the frame narrarive was meant to be more literary, but if that was the goal, I think I needed a whole lot more pathos.

PLOT: The plot of this book can be divided into three parts: part one describes two widowers, Abe and Dan, who bond over fishing. One day, Dan proposes the two go to Dutchman's Creek, a mysterious fishing spot that seems to be avoided by locals and professionals alike. Part two describes the story about the creek, told by the cook at a local diner. Part three flashes back to Abe and Dan as they pay their tab and make off for the day, encountering some weirdness at the creek.

When we get to part 2, the story within the story, things start to pick up a bit and feel a little more natural. The style is still conversational and relies on telling, but Langan does a better job of letting the speaker fade and allowing the reader to become immersed in the narrative. I honestly think that if the whole book were in third person, the style would have worked much better. It was during these moments when I felt most engaged and the flow felt more natural.

This book takes a really long time to get going, and to be honest, the frame narrarive is not that great. I know it's supposed to be about loss and grief, but Langan doesn't exactly say anything profound or invite us to connect with the widowers so much as he bangs us over the head with a bunch of details. The style is what truly hampers Langan here; because the author relies on telling over showing, Abe's emotions feel rather flat and the creepy things that do happen are interpreted for us almost immediately (like his dream being an omen). I really wanted more out of this frame story: the grief over losing a loved one, an awe for nature, a love letter to fishing. While I think Langan tried to do that, the style was just not conducive to evoking strong emotions.

Part two is better even though some of the same style issues still persist. As I discussed above, part two is when I felt most immersed and engaged, part because the style becomes more like third person and partly because Langan's strengths lie in weird horror fiction, not literary fiction. Though I struggled with part one, I found myself genuinely enjoying part two.

Part 3 was ok. There was some creepiness that I enjoyed, but the narrative was incredibly drawn out. Perhaps what bothered me the most was that I didn't quite see Langan pulling together the threads of his story to form a coherent tapestry: there were meditations on grief, a love for fishing, some reflections on the natural order and brining people back from the dead, but while I could see how Langan was looking at these things individually, I didn't quite see how they overlapped. I could see how fishing and grief were related, but not fishing and the natural order. I could see how grief and bringing people back from the dead fit together, or even the natural order and death, but not grief and the natural order. This isn't to say I think all fiction needs a coherent message, but I got the feeling that Langan was trying to say something and I couldn't quite puzzle out what it was.

TL;DR: The Fisherman has some delightfully eerie descriptions and interesting insight about grief, but ultimately, the writing style hampered my ability to engage with the characters.

CHARACTERS: Abe, our frame narrator, is sympathetic in that he's a grieving widower, but other than that, I can't say he felt like a complex character. He's fine as far as narrators go, but I struggled to see what his arc was: did he learn to let go of his wife? Maybe. Did he learn something about connecting with people via fishing? Maybe. It was hard to tell.

Dan, Abe's fishing buddy, was also sympathetic in the same way, but again, there wasn't much to him. I didn't like the stretches when Dan would narrate a bunch of explanation to us in part 3; I felt like most of what was told to us could have been implied or shown.

Characters in the story-within-a-story felt a little better because the story felt more like a fairy tale. Characters didn't necessarily need to be complex, and I think they came across a lot better as archetypes. The only complaint I have about characters in part 2 is that I think Rainer was there to conveniently explain things to us. While his backstory is creepy, I think Langran's tale would have been more chilling if things were left ambiguous or if characters had to figure things out on their own.

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harmony-health-chronicles · 6 months ago

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A Lifesaver in Print: My Review of the Lost Frontier Handbook

I've always been a bit of an adventurer. Whether it's a weekend camping trip or a longer hike deep in the woods, I enjoy exploring the outdoors. However, that adventurous spirit comes with a healthy dose of caution. You never know when things might take a turn for the worse, so being prepared is paramount. That's why I decided to invest in the Lost Frontier Handbook: Health, Survival, and Remedies.

A Comprehensive Guide

The first thing that struck me about the Lost Frontier Handbook was its sheer comprehensiveness. This isn't a flimsy pamphlet with a few basic tips. It's a hefty tome packed with detailed information on everything you need to know about staying healthy and surviving in the wilderness. From identifying edible plants to building a fire with minimal resources, the handbook covers a vast array of topics.

Clear and Concise Instructions

Information overload is a real problem in survival guides. Luckily, the Lost Frontier Handbook avoids this pitfall. The authors have done an excellent job of presenting complex topics in a clear and concise way. Each section is well-organized with easy-to-follow instructions and helpful diagrams. Even for someone like me, who wouldn't call themself an expert outdoorsman, the book is incredibly accessible.

Beyond Basic Survival

The Lost Frontier Handbook goes beyond the basics of building shelters and finding food. It delves into essential first-aid techniques, offering step-by-step instructions for treating common injuries and illnesses. It even includes a section on natural remedies using readily available plants and herbs. This section proved particularly useful on a recent camping trip when a friend suffered a nasty bee sting. Thanks to the information in the handbook, I was able to create a soothing poultice from some nearby plantain leaves.

More Than Just a Book, It's Peace of Mind

The Lost Frontier Handbook isn't just a book; it's a source of peace of mind. Knowing that I have this comprehensive guide by my side on any outdoor adventure gives me a sense of security. Whether you're a seasoned outdoorsman or a casual hiker, this handbook is an invaluable resource. It's a well-written, expertly researched guide that could prove essential in an unexpected situation. The Lost Frontier Handbook has earned a permanent place in my backpack - and I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys exploring the great outdoors.

#Lost Frontier Handbook #health and wellness #health products #healthcare #healthylifestyle #health & fitness #health supplements #health and fitness #book (printed)#health wealth happiness

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a2zproduct · 6 months ago

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A Treasure Trove of Ancestral Knowledge: A Review of The Lost Frontier Handbook

I used The Lost Frontier Handbook, a printed guide to self-reliance, and found it to be an invaluable resource. In today's fast-paced world, we often rely heavily on technology and readily available resources, neglecting the practical skills that sustained our ancestors. This book acts as a bridge between the past and present, offering a comprehensive guide to rediscovering essential knowledge for navigating challenging situations.

Practical Knowledge for Everyday Preparedness

The Lost Frontier Handbook covers a wide range of practical skills, from food production and preservation to basic first aid and medicinal plant remedies. It delves into forgotten techniques like making your own soap, purifying water, and even building a simple shelter. These skills, while seemingly basic, can prove incredibly useful in unexpected circumstances, whether facing a natural disaster, an economic downturn, or simply wanting to live a more self-sufficient lifestyle.

Actionable Steps and Clear Instructions

What truly impressed me about The Lost Frontier Handbook is its actionable approach. Each section provides clear instructions and step-by-step guides, making even complex tasks manageable. The language is concise and easy to understand, avoiding unnecessary jargon. Additionally, the book incorporates illustrations and diagrams, further enhancing the clarity of the information presented.

More Than Just Survival Skills

While the core focus lies on practical survival skills, The Lost Frontier Handbook goes beyond mere preparedness. It encourages a deeper connection with nature, promoting the use of natural resources for food, medicine, and building materials. This fosters a sense of self-reliance and appreciation for the simple yet vital aspects of life.

A Valuable Investment for the Future

Overall, I highly recommend The Lost Frontier Handbook to anyone interested in learning practical skills for self-sufficiency. It serves as a valuable resource for anyone seeking to be better prepared for unforeseen circumstances, while also offering a deeper understanding of the resourcefulness and resilience of our ancestors. Whether you're an avid outdoors enthusiast or simply someone who wants to be more prepared, this book offers a wealth of knowledge that can benefit you in countless ways.

#Practical Knowledge for Everyday Preparedness #Actionable Steps and Clear Instructions #More Than Just Survival Skills #A Valuable Investment for the Future

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aryadubey2 · 7 months ago

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Be Prepared for Anything: A Review of The Lost Frontier Handbook

In an increasingly unpredictable world, The Lost Frontier Handbook by Suzanne Sherman offers a wealth of knowledge for those seeking self-reliance and preparedness. This comprehensive guide dives deep into forgotten skills and forgotten wisdom, empowering readers to navigate a wide range of crises.

A Treasure Trove of Practical Skills

The Lost Frontier Handbook isn't a theoretical exploration of survival; it's a practical manual packed with actionable steps. Whether you're concerned about natural disasters, economic downturns, or simply want to be more self-sufficient, this book has something for you. From detailed instructions on creating natural remedies using everyday plants to effective food storage techniques, the handbook equips you with the skills needed to thrive in challenging situations.

Learning from the Past

The book's focus on "lost ancestral skills" is a refreshing take on preparedness. Sherman encourages readers to rediscover the ingenuity of our forebears, who relied on their own resourcefulness to survive. This isn't just about stockpiling supplies; it's about cultivating a mindset of self-reliance and problem-solving.

Empowerment Through Knowledge

The Lost Frontier Handbook goes beyond basic survival skills. It delves into topics like water purification, locating free land, and even bartering techniques. This empowers readers to take charge of their well-being and build resilience in the face of adversity. The knowledge gained from this book fosters a sense of control and confidence, invaluable assets in any crisis situation

Accessible and Engaging

While the subject matter could be intimidating, Sherman's writing style is clear, concise, and engaging. The book is packed with high-resolution images and diagrams that make even complex procedures easy to understand. Additionally, the handbook offers bonus content, including guides on creating a medicinal herb garden and navigating economic collapse.

An Investment in Your Future

The Lost Frontier Handbook is more than just a book; it's an investment in your future and the future of your loved ones. In a world where unforeseen events are becoming increasingly common, the knowledge and skills gained from this book can provide invaluable peace of mind. Whether you're a seasoned survivalist or simply looking for a way to be better prepared, The Lost Frontier Handbook is a valuable resource that deserves a prominent place on your bookshelf.

#Be prepared for anything #lost frontier handbook #Handbook #Skills #Frontier Handbook #Book reading #book review blog

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xxx-product · 7 months ago

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A Must-Have Manual for Self-Reliance: A Review of The Lost Frontier Handbook

In an age of increasing uncertainty, where the unexpected seems to be the new normal, many of us are looking for ways to become more self-sufficient. The Lost Frontier Handbook has emerged as a valuable resource for anyone seeking to take charge of their preparedness, offering a wealth of practical knowledge on everything from food production to natural remedies.

Empowering Knowledge for Any Situation

Unlike some survival guides that focus on extreme scenarios, The Lost Frontier Handbook takes a practical approach. It acknowledges the forgotten skills and wisdom of our ancestors, skills that can be incredibly useful in a variety of situations. Whether you're facing a power outage, a natural disaster, or simply want to become more self-reliant, this book equips you with the knowledge to navigate challenges and thrive.

A Treasure Trove of Practical Skills

The Lost Frontier Handbook is a comprehensive guide, covering a wide range of essential skills. It delves into the art of food production, providing clear instructions on gardening techniques, food preservation methods like canning and drying, and even keeping livestock like chickens. This knowledge empowers you to become less reliant on grocery stores and take control of your food security.

Beyond Food: Essential Skills for Daily Life

The book's reach extends far beyond the realm of food production. It delves into valuable skills like water purification, shelter construction, and basic tool maintenance. Additionally, there's a fascinating section on natural remedies, showcasing the power of plants for treating common ailments. This knowledge can be a lifesaver in situations where access to medical care might be limited.

Well-Presented and Accessible

The Lost Frontier Handbook is not just informative, it's also a pleasure to read. The writing style is clear and engaging, making even complex topics easy to understand. Diagrams, illustrations, and helpful charts accompany the text, providing visual aids that solidify the learning process.

A Valuable Investment for the Future

The Lost Frontier Handbook is more than just a book; it's an investment in your future security and well-being. Whether you're a seasoned outdoors enthusiast or simply someone who wants to be prepared for anything, this book is a valuable addition to your library. The knowledge it imparts empowers you to face challenges with confidence and navigate unexpected situations with resourcefulness. In a world where self-reliance is becoming increasingly important, The Lost Frontier Handbook is a practical and empowering guide that deserves a prominent place on your bookshelf.

#Lost Frontier Handbook #Book (printed)

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beautyandhealth22 · 7 months ago

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Lost Frontier Handbook Reviews: Is It Worth Your Money?

The Lost Frontier Handbook is an essential self-study handbook that reveals the skills of the ancestors and their knowledge of dealing with challenges.

Life is full of unexpected events, problems and emergencies, including financial problems, disasters and other problems. Overcoming challenges or unexpected consequences requires preparation, patience and determination. But the new technological age does not forget the great skills of our ancestors. As a result, the 21st generation is exploring the abyss of loss of valuable and age-old knowledge, including the processing of powerful herbs using herbs and the storage and preservation of food without refrigeration, among other important knowledge.

Suzanne Sherman's The Lost Frontier handbook reveals many secrets about the lives of ancestors and how they overcame disasters, emergencies, and hardships. It provides generations with self-learning skills in different ways to overcome all challenges. What's in the lost frontier handbook? This review gives more information about the book.

Click Here To Visit Lost Frontier Handbook Official Website For More Info

What Exactly Is The Lost Frontier Handbook?

The Lost Frontier Handbook is an essential self-workbook that unlocks parenting and coping skills. According to the author, the book also offers life-saving tips and tricks for every situation. Readers also learn how to develop various survival strategies and equip themselves with the necessary tools to overcome extraordinary situations in times of crisis. Some of the most important lessons in the handbook include tips on preservation, food storage, and medicine.

Additionally, the notes are supplemented with bold images, detailed diagrams and step-by-step instructions. Buyers can purchase a reference Lost Frontier Handbook or receive a physical copy by mail.

The Lost Frontier Handbook Content:

According to the creator, the Lost Frontier Handbook provides consumers with the necessary knowledge to overcome any crisis. Within the handbook, readers will discover a range of valuable lessons, including:

Rediscovering Powerful Remedies:

Readers will become well-versed in a variety of essential home-based remedies by following detailed instructions on how to:

Create potent disinfectants at home: Consumers will learn how to use simple substitutes to create antiseptics that have been historically proven to save lives, all through easy-to-follow instructions.

Produce highly effective painkillers: Individuals will learn how to make painkillers for chronic pain, toothaches, or injuries without the use of addictive substances.

Safely address fresh wounds and burns: Consumers will gain valuable insight into treating burns and wounds at home, ensuring proper care and healing.

Soothe a sore throat: Readers will discover how to make tasty remedies that effectively alleviate a sore throat without any bitter taste or discomfort.

Create frontier penicillin: This proven method of preventing infection can be prepared using common household products, as readers will learn in the handbook.

Additionally, consumers will acquire knowledge on treating various ailments such as cold sores, warts, fungal infections, arthritis, inflammation, and more.

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Creating A Food Stockpile That Doesn't Spoil:

In this informative guide, readers will discover various methods to preserve food without relying on electricity or chemical preservatives. They will gain valuable knowledge on how to extend the shelf life of meat through techniques such as smoking, curing, salting, dehydrating, and more. Additionally, consumers will learn the art of canning and pickling, ensuring that their food remains fresh and delicious for an extended period.

Furthermore, the creator of this guide shares insights on how to cultivate and maintain a sustainable garden, enabling individuals to have a continuous supply of fresh produce. The guide also provides techniques for refrigerating food without electricity, including the utilization of a root cellar, evaporation, and an 18th-century icehouse.

For those interested in hunting, the guide offers valuable information on how to properly tan and preserve wild meat. Additionally, readers will discover the benefits of raising chickens, which provide a consistent source of eggs, meat, and assistance in controlling garden pests.

In times of crisis, it is essential to have sufficient food supplies. This guide offers organizational hacks to ensure that individuals can maintain an adequate stockpile. Moreover, readers will learn how to grow a medicinal garden, providing them with essential herbs and plants for various health needs.

Thriving Through A Depression:

This Lost Frontier Handbook presents strategies for individuals to navigate through hunger crises without skipping meals. It provides practical tips on saving money monthly for food, allowing individuals to build up a substantial reserve. Furthermore, readers will explore the world of seasonal and delicious wild foods that are safe for consumption.

In addition to food preservation techniques, the guide includes instructions on making soda and ginger beer, enabling individuals to save a significant amount of money annually on soft drinks. Furthermore, it highlights the benefits of raising chickens, not only for their eggs and meat but also for their ability to control pests in the garden.

The guide also emphasizes the importance of recycling household items and transforming them into valuable and sellable products. By repurposing junk, individuals can not only reduce waste but also generate additional income.

Exclusive Superfoods Needed For Survival:

Within the pages of The Lost Frontier Handbook, readers will discover a collection of nutritional recipes that are ideal for times of hunger crisis. These recipes include the 100-year survival ration, which has been relied upon by native Americans, arctic explorers, and fur trappers during their long journeys. Additionally, readers will find an affordable and delicious instant soup recipe that was favored by mountain men.

A type of biscuit that never spoils despite any weather. The Viking comfort food that was consumed by millions to prevent malnutrition without spoilage. 22 long-lasting foods, including popcorn, soy sauce, and alcohol.

(Flash Sale) Buy Lost Frontier Handbook For The Lowest Prices!

75 Products That Have No Value Compared To Gold In Times of Need:

The person who started the program reveals things that seem worthless but are very useful in times of need. Cell phones, copper, coins, can openers, flying papers, coffee pot, old EMP-resistant truck, swing coaster are some of the items on the list. It creates and equips consumers with skills to use in times of crisis.

Pumping Water Into The Power Grid:

Consumers learn step by step how to make a water filter using easily available materials. The technology reduces energy bills and includes affordable, renewable resources for independent living. In addition, anti-smoke filters and gas masks are used as gas masks, and some tricks are used during the approach.

The Big Secret of How To Buy Land In America:

The Creator Reveals the Secret to Personal Satisfaction and Land Acquisition. This guide informs buyers about the best places near cities and other important amenities. Moreover, the creator says that 1/5 hectare can be good to provide people with what they need, using the necessary tactics. Some of the recommended regions are New York, Alaska, and Colorado, and each location has its pros and cons.

Price of Lost Frontier Handbook:

Consumers can access both the physical and the digital copies on the official website with the following price list:

Physical Copy: The physical handbook is available at $37 from a regular retail price of $50 + $8.99 shipping and handling fee.

Physical and Digital Copy: Both the digital product and the physical copy are selling at the best value of $37 + $8.99 for shipping.

Digital Copy: Consumers can access the Lost Frontier program after paying $37 on the professional website.

Lost Frontier Handbook Bonuses:

Consumers Get 3 Free Following Bonuses.

The 80 Square-Feet Medicinal Garden Guide:

The guide enlightens consumers on how to grow a medical garden with 80 sq. ft space. All the herbs create a regimen for an effective herbal apothecary. In addition, the guide provides a detailed planting blueprint to enable readers to know how, where, and what to plant. It’s perfect for patios, lawns, and rooftops. Consumers learn how to create a natural pharmacy with herbs for treating different health issues.

Guide For Economic Collapse Survival:

In this guide, consumers learn vital tips from people who overcame national tragedies. It explains how Luis, an Argentinean, and his 6-year-old daughter survived a crisis during a government collapse. Moreover, there were riots, 5000% inflation, 25% unemployed, and black-market gangsters that plagued the nation. Readers learn how Luis overcame the widespread food shortage and power outage.

Homestead Cooking Guide:

This guide reveals off-grid recipes and emergency cooking techniques, including using a car engine to cook meals during a blackout and baking bread without electricity. Consumers learn traditional methods, including the use of wood stoves instead of an electric stove.

With the cost of 3 bonuses included, consumers purchase the handbooks at $131, but the one-time offer of 72% saves consumers $94 with a price of $37.

Exclusive Discount: Order Now Lost Frontier Handbook For Lowest Price

Money Back Guarantee:

The creator provides a 60-day money-back guarantee for consumers who find the handbook unsatisfactory. Consumers need to send a notification within 2 months to get their full refund, less shipping and handling fee.

Consumers Testimonials:

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "People need to know this stuff… it helps me teach my survival classes."

Kerry Ward, TX

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "Everyone needs to develop these life skills ASAP."

Jim McBreen, 56, Fort Myers, Florida

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "I don't look at the book as a survival manual but as a way of life that adds value to [the] present day."

Vern Moore, 68, Oklahoma

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "So much useful info. It's necessary to have a kind of book!"

Jody Probst, 45, Streetsboro, Ohio

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "It's the best way to learn how our Founding Fathers lived."

Kenneth McMillian, 60, Willis, Texas

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "Very resourceful, whether you're camping, hiking, or going on an adventure, this book brings out the kid in you."

Amanda, 33, Texas

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "Something to pass on to my children and grandchildren."

Linda, 73, Florida

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ "Love everything in the book."

Martha Pendergrass, 63, North Carolina

Conclusion:

In order to be prepared for unexpected crises and emergencies, it is crucial for individuals to take proactive measures. Mitigation strategies, such as stockpiling food, are essential in the face of natural disasters. The Lost Frontier Handbook, created with the intention of empowering consumers, draws upon ancestral skills and techniques to provide survival tips. This comprehensive guide offers insights on creating a medicinal garden, building a food stockpile, accessing off-grid water sources, and much more. Both digital and print copies of the handbook can be obtained through the official website. Additionally, the product comes with a two-month refund policy for customer satisfaction.

Disclaimer:

It is important to note that the advice and guidelines provided here should not be considered as a substitute for professional medical or financial advice from licensed healthcare providers or certified financial advisors. Prior to making any purchasing decisions, especially if you are taking medications or have specific concerns, it is advisable to consult with a qualified physician or financial consultant. Individual results may vary, and the statements made about these products have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration or Health Canada. The efficacy of these products has not been confirmed through FDA or Health Canada approved research. These products are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease, nor do they offer any get-rich-quick schemes.

FAQs

Q. Can the Lost Frontier Handbook be a reliable resource for crafting medicinal remedies?

The Lost Frontier Handbook may provide guidance on natural remedies using common plants and materials. However, it is crucial to exercise caution. For the treatment of serious medical conditions, consulting a licensed healthcare professional is always recommended.

Q. How does the Lost Frontier Handbook address long-term food storage?

The handbook may cover various food preservation methods like drying, fermentation, and salting – all established techniques for extending shelf life. It's important to emphasize that proper food handling procedures are essential to avoid spoilage throughout the storage process.

Q. Does the Lost Frontier Handbook guarantee food preservation without spoilage?

No single method is foolproof. Even with the techniques outlined in the Lost Frontier Handbook, spoilage can still occur due to improper storage or contamination. The handbook likely focuses on minimizing spoilage risk and significantly extending food shelf life.

Q. Can I achieve complete off-grid access to fresh water using the Lost Frontier Handbook?

The handbook might cover methods like rainwater harvesting, natural spring collection, and water purification techniques. While these methods can be highly effective, achieving complete self-sufficiency may require additional considerations depending on your specific location and climate.

Q. What are the potential benefits of using the Lost Frontier Handbook?

The handbook can equip you with valuable skills for self-reliance, potentially including:

The ability to utilize natural resources for survival purposes.

Reduced dependence on external supplies for basic necessities.

A deeper connection with and appreciation for the natural world.

Q. Are there any limitations to the information provided in the Lost Frontier Handbook?

While the handbook offers valuable knowledge, it is important to understand its limitations:

It is not a substitute for professional medical advice.

The information may not be universally applicable to every environment or situation.

The handbook may not be completely comprehensive, and further research may be necessary depending on your specific needs.

Q. Where can I find more information about the Lost Frontier Handbook?

Consider searching online for reputable sources such as reviews, articles, or videos about the Lost Frontier Handbook. This will allow you to gain a well-rounded perspective on the handbook's content and its potential value for you.

Click Here To Purchase Lost Frontier Handbook From Official Site

#nutrition #ebook #lost frontier medicinal book #Home remedies #health & fitness #healthcare #healthy living #healthy eating #natural remedies #Herbal remedies #diabetes management #health and wellness #holistic health

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productofnfld · 8 months ago

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The Ghostly Voyage of Ellen Dower

Ellen and Ned Dower were real, historical figures; that much is true.

The Dowers lived in Conche, on Newfoundland’s great northern peninsula, in the later half of the 19th century.

They are well-remembered, not so much for their successful business or contributions to the community but, for the tale of an impossible visit Ellen paid to her husband’s sealing ship in the spring of 1872.

Winter in Conche

It was winter 1872 and Ned Dower was looking through the window at the schooner, Elsie. He owned the ship with his brother John. She wasn’t a big boat but, the Elsie was profitable and, between the cod fishery and seal hunt, the men could feed their growing families and manage to offer work to a good number of locals from Conche too.

Winter was a slow season for the Dowers. The Elsie had been tied to the wharf since late fall and, by the end of February, Ned was itching to set sail again.

Thankfully, it would soon be time for seals.

Ned Dower’s Mistake

Ned wanted to be able to head to the ice floes the minute the conditions were right. To that end, he hauled out his old sea chest and began filling it with the things he might want for the voyage. If he hadn’t been in such a rush, he might have noticed a small box in the bottom corner of the chest.

The box held an assortment of important papers. Among them were the deeds he and his wife Ellen needed to guarantee their financial well-being..

The box didn’t really belong in his sea chest. He had quickly stashed it there for safe keeping after were reviewing the papers and forgotten about it. He had no intention of taking it to sea with him; the papers would be safer on dry land. If he’d seen it there, he’d have given it to Ellen to stow away but, in his rush, he missed it and soon, it was tucked away under his blankets and clothes.

By March 1st the conditions were perfect for seals. The Elsie left Conche with Ned at the helm… and a misplaced box of important papers in the chest under his bunk.

By March 17th, the Elsie was ‘in the fat.’

The seals were plentiful, and for the next week the men worked hard, pausing long enough only to sleep.

Things couldn’t be going better.

The Missing Papers

Everyone knew Ellen Dower as a capable woman. If Ned was skipper of the Elsie, Ellen was captain at home. She took care of the business affairs on land while Ned was at sea.

She’d grown used to Ned’s voyages but she didn’t like them. His life was a dangerous one, and she was never quite at ease when he was gone. She was always half-afraid something bad would happen to him. When she was worried about Ned, she found herself worrying about other things; things that wouldn’t normally bother her.

Shortly after Ned left, she found herself thinking about their financial affairs. She wanted to review the papers, to set her mind at ease but she couldn’t find their little document box anywhere.

She knew if it wasn’t in the house it must be aboard the Elsie, but wasn’t like Ned to take it, especially without telling her. She tried to put it out of her mind, but it worried her.

What if Ned didn’t have the papers? What if they were lost?

Ellen’s Worry

By March 25th the worry had taken it’s toll. She was exhausted.

Early in the evening she retired to her favourite chair. Over the last week her daughter had been reading a story aloud, she was looking forward to hearing more of it but, despite her interest, it wasn’t long before Ellen’s head nodded.

Noticing her mother was asleep and missing the story, Ellen’s daughter put the book down and spoke. There was no response.

She walked over to her mother and spoke again. Still, no response.

Whatever she tried, she couldn’t rouse her mother. Frightened, she ran to the neighbour’s house for help.

They applied every remedy they could think of, but still Ellen was frozen in place. Worse yet, she seemed to be deteriorating. With each passing minute her arms and legs felt colder and the colour drained from her skin. They wrapped her with blankets but it was no good.

Soon her breathing slowed, then no one could find a heartbeat.

Ellen Dower was dead.

Aboard The Elsie

By March 25th, Ned knew the crew need a break. The hunt had been going well and everyone was exhausted. He instructed them to take the evening off, and to get some rest.

The sun had barely set when most of the men were asleep.

Ned retired to his quarters, too. As he lay on his bunk he thought, if the sealing continued at this pace, he’d be back in Conche in a matter of days.

Just as he began to doze, he heard something. It sounded like a rustling on the stairs. If he didn’t know better he’d think it was Ellen. It sounded, for all the world, like the noise Ellen’s dress made as she hurried about the house. He could almost smell her perfume.

What could be making that sound?

He sat up and, before his feet hit the floor, he felt like his heart stopped.

It was Ellen. She was in his room aboard the Elsie.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible; Ellen was in Conche, some 70 miles of sea ice and ocean away.

He couldn’t speak, and even if he could, what would he say?

In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen her look so miserable, so tortured. She seemed determined, as if consumed by a single purpose. It was as if Ned weren’t even there.

She pulled the wooden chest from under Ned’s bunk and began searching though it. One-by-one all the articles came out. She stacked them neatly beside her on the floor. Then she found the document box.

She opened it and unfolded the papers inside. She quickly glanced through the documents, and returned them to the box. She put the box back in its place and re-packed the chest.

She pushed the chest back under the bunk, left Ned’s room and disappeared from the Elsie.

Ned was heartbroken.

Even through his shock, he knew this could only mean one thing. He’d heard talk of ‘tokens’ — apparitions of loved ones appearing to their families as they were dying — but he hadn’t believed in them; not til now.

But what else could it have been? A dream?

He pulled out the chest from under the bed and riffled through it. There, just where Ellen had found it, was the document box. He had no idea he’d brought it with him. He couldn’t have dreamed it, Ellen had been there.

Miles from home, Ned began to come to terms with the news fast spreading through Conche — his wife was dead.

Ned told the crew what he had seen. They tried to convince him that everything might be okay but they quietly agreed there was little hope for Ellen Dower.

They small crew join their hands in a prayer and decided to make for Conche as quickly as the ice and wind would allow.

If they could do one last thing for Mrs. Dower, they vowed, it would be to deliver her husband in time for the funeral.

Ellen’s Wake

Back at the Dower house, people were stunned; how could Ellen Dower have died? Mere hours ago she had seemed healthy enough. It didn’t make sense.

Sense or not, there were plans to be made and in the kitchen there was talk of a wake.

In the inside room, Ellen’s daughter crouched next to her mother, whose body was still reclined in her favourite chair. She held her mother’s cold, motionless hand.

Then, suddenly there was a noise. It was like a gentle cough.

Hopefully, she scanned her mother’s face. It didn’t seem as pale.

Could it be? Yes, Ellen was breathing again!!

As if waking from a deep sleep, Ellen slowly opened her eyes. Her lips trembled, “I’ve been so far… so far from here,” she whispered.

“I walked through the ice and climbed over rocks. I passed Grey Islands and I found her. The Elsie was so far away, but I found her. Ned has the papers. Everything’s fine,” she sighed.

With that, Ellen drifted into a heavy sleep.

The Elsie’s Return

As if their prayers were answered, the Elsie cleared the ice the next morning and the crew set a course for Conche, where they were sure they’d find Mrs. Ellen Dower dead.

It was going to be a sad homecoming.

Usually when the Elsie returned from the front it was with full colours. They’d hoist their with flags in celebration of a prosperous hunt and joyful homecoming.

But there was no joy aboard the Elsie, so no flags were raised.

As Conche came into view, they looked for some sign; something to re-assure them that the skipper’s encounter had been wrong and Mrs. Dower was still well.

They saw nothing; nothing to confirm nor deny their fears.

As they were scanning the shoreline, the people of Conche were looking toward the Elsie. There were no flags and that meant one thing — it was a ship in mourning. Someone on board must be dead, they thought.

When the Elsie tied to the wharf, the grieving crew was met with a sea of worried faces; each group afraid to have their fears confirmed.

Much to their relief, they soon sorted out the confusion. It was the best possible news, everyone was well! Ellen Dower was alive and there’d been no death on the Elsie.

They were happy, of course, but as the story came into focus, there was a sense of unease.

What strange event had unfolded around them? Talk of tokens was one thing, but this was something beyond understanding.

Had Ellen Dower left her body behind? Had she travelled miles across the frozen ocean to her husband’s schooner, to ease her troubled mind?

The two halves of the story — one told on shore, and the other recounted far out at sea — fit together perfectly.

It didn’t make sense, but there was little choice but to believe it.

Strange Truth or Tall Tale?

Are tokens real? Can a person astral project or bilocate, or whatever it is Ellen Dower supposedly did?

I’m not a big believer in the supernatural, but I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

The suernatural aside, Ned and Ellen Dower were real citizens of Conche in the 1800s. Their names appear in multiple historical records. That doesn’t, of course, mean they did any of the things attributed to them.

This legend took hold in the early 1900s when it was set down on paper by writer J. W. Kinsella.

Kinsella wrote, “This story came to me from the lips of Captain Edward Dower himself, under his own roof … Many of their children are still living in Conche, who can corroborate the story.”

Take from that, what you will.

In the years since Kinsella’s publication, the story has been told and retold many times, with varying details (See ‘Conflicting Accounts’).

One of the best known versions comes from novelist Earl Pilgrim, who provided more context for the tale in his book, The Ghost of Ellen Dower.

It was published in 2002 by Flanker Press.

Your Turn

Do you think there’s any truth in the tale of Ellen Dower?

Do you have any stories of tokens?

I’d love to hear your thoughts; the comments are always open.

#ghost #conche #paranormal #2024

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