All posts by Eric Robert Nolan

Eric Robert Nolan graduated from Mary Washington College in 1994 with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology. He spent several years a news reporter and editorial writer for the Culpeper Star Exponent in Culpeper, Virginia. His work has also appeared on the front pages of numerous newspapers in Virginia, including The Free Lance – Star and The Daily Progress. Eric entered the field of philanthropy in 1996, as a grant writer for nonprofit healthcare organizations. Eric’s poetry has been featured by Dead Beats Literary Blog, Dagda Publishing, The International War Veterans’ Poetry Archive, and elsewhere. His poetry will also be published by Illumen Magazine in its Spring 2014 issue.

“Like little tiny sausage links with fur.”

That’s how I’ve been describing the four kittens that arrived via stork last night to the MamaCat that inhabits the parking lot behind my building.  Either that, or “TINYCATS!,” with all the exuberance of age six.

It’s been brought to my attention that I am gaining a reputation as Crazy Cat Man, but I don’t care.

Pictured below are MamaCat and three of my new friends.  The fourth is actually a little black cat (who presumably takes after his father).  I actually only discovered him about an hour ago, because he … hides in the shadows like the tiniest little ninja that ever was.

If I ever succeed in photographing the finger-length assassin, I will post it.

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I STILL need reading glasses.

My buddy Russell Morgan had this to say on Facebook this morning:

“I decided to give mangoes a second chance. While these did taste better than the last one I had, it still tasted a bit like soap to me. Still not a major fan.”

I read “MAGPIES” and was wierded out.  I thought that maybe somewhere Heckle was mourning Jeckle.

Gonna write a book about me and my friends, in the style of Aldous Huxley …

Gonna call it “The Dorks of Perception.”

REVIEW: Zero

What a terrific review by Michael Patrick Hicks for J.S. Collyer’s “Zero!”  (And this gentleman should not be confused with my old sportswriter pal, Mike Hicks.)


“Zero” will be released by Dagda Publishing on August 16th.

 

REVIEW: Zero.

“It gets in your blood.”

— my old friend and managing editor, Jeff Dute, about the news business.  He told me that just before I left Virginia for New York, leaving newspapers behind for a job in public relations. I believe it was around 1997.

I was chatting with a friend with a journalism background today, and I realized how much I miss the news world.  I even feel a little of what seems like homesickness when I read the Facebook posts of my old colleagues, even though their “beats” (sports and hunting) are very different from what I used to cover.

News taught me so much about working quickly, multi-tasking, researching a topic quickly, and speaking with people.

It also taught me a lot about authority, local government, the range of beliefs and ideologies in America, neighbors’ kindness toward one another, strangers’ violence against the innocent, and how easy it is to get lost on country roads.

It taught me to smoke cigarettes, to consider my sources’ motivations, and to be loyal to those who confided in me.

There were lessons in mortality too.  Rookie reporters are routinely assigned to the traffic accidents that occur at all hours.

All in all, it was a hell of an education — and not an easy job, but a rewarding one.

My interview with Laura Enright, author of “To Touch the Sun.”

I had the wonderful opportunity to be interviewed by Laura Enright, a talented and successful indie author in the Chicago area, whose first vampire novel, “To Touch the Sun,” is garnering rave reviews after its recent release by Dagda Publishing.

Laura invited me over at her blog to chat about my own horror novel, “The Dogs Don’t Bark In Brooklyn Any More.”  Her questions were great fun, and she even ran a picture of Elijah Wood in “Sin City” (2005), so that people finally might understand what I mean when I say Wood would do well playing my character, Francis Lestrade, in a film version of the novel.  (Eventual movie adaptations are a fond dream of many a first-time novelist.)

The interview can be found at her blog, “Literally Laura,” right here:

http://lauraenright.blogspot.com/2014/07/an-interview-with-erik-robert-nolan.html

Thanks, Laura!

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“Jepsons Give $1 Million to Restore UMW Amphitheater” (www.umw.edu)

From the University of Mary Washington website:

[“I can’t wait to get back to see all the things that have happened since I was there and to take time to walk through the amphitheater,” said Alice Jepson. “When President Hurley told us that students still love the amphitheater, we decided our money would be well invested in helping to restore this area of campus that holds so many special memories for alumni and students alike.”]

Jepsons Give $1 Million to Restore UMW Amphitheater

Why am I often pedantic? Nolan’s Razor.

Because, all things being equal, the nerdiest explanation is usually the best.

A brief review of “Godzilla” (2014)

I liked it!  It’s no “Blade Runner,” but it’s a fun way to escape a rainy Saturday.

There is a lot of fun fan service for those who remember the original movies.  For one, the creature design isn’t “Jurassic Park” — it deliberately recalls the man-in-the-rubber-suit effects of the Japanese films.  And they made sure to include that impossible to forget (or write) REEEEEEEIIIIAAAAAAARRRGH.

I might be imagining things, but I’m pretty sure the baddies here are deliberately reminiscent of “Cloverfield” (2008).  That was funny.

There is a long and overwrought subplot monopolizing the first half of the film, involving a bereaved Bryan Cranston.  Whatever this was meant to achieve in terms of character motivations, it kinda wasn’t worth it to delay the arrival of giant monsters.  I’m pretty sure that people don’t go to a Godzilla movie to see Bryan Cranston.

Actually … I take that back.  That dude is so popular that it’s entirely possible that people do go to a Godzilla movie to see Bryan Cranston.

 

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“Operation: Staffhound.”

“Staffhounds had never had the best of reputations.

Stout and muscular. Shark-mouthed and chainlinked.
A panting vortex in a tea-mug, pulling
buzz-cut and behooded blokes – slurring out
with lager lungs and fag-ash wit.”

— from Philippe Blenkiron’s “The Pustoy”

 

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