Tag Archives: writing

8/6/25 – Big Announcement

Hello Everyone,

I wanted to end the radio silence with some updates on where things stand with The Legacy Chronicle and my writing work as a whole. I am currently plugging away on the fourth book, though it is taking longer than previous installments due to a lot of threads I have to weave together over time.

Additionally, I have learned that Sherman’s Books policy for local writers has changed, and I have to hit certain sales goals in order to keep the books in circulation there. The only book that meets their current criteria is The Sword, so from here on out, you will only be able to get The Shield and The Steed on Amazon or by emailing me directly for a copy.

Because this shrinks my readership and reach substantially, I am making some significant plans for expansion into other avenues to build readership and provide content to people who follow my work. With this in mind, I have a new priority list I am sharing with you:

  1. Complete The Father and ensure that book four comes out in the next 12 months or so, ensuring the series continues a relatively steady stream of publication. I am a writer first and foremost, and this is my central work, so it needs to be top of the chain.
  2. Launch a podcast, to be entitled TH Pod, which will feature interviews with various other creatives and friends on things they, or I, think you should consume. The structure will be “I think you should [verb]” and a topic. For example, “I think you should read The Sword by TH Paul.” The podcast will feature a discussion of the book, film, game, album, or whatever it is we’re interested in, and some samples and excerpts to sell the audience on the work (we will be sure to include spoiler tags). Wes Covey, a long time collaborator, is working on a theme song and I am soliciting guests, so if you hear from me, consider being on! If you don’t hear from me, but would want to participate, please reach out!
  3. In addition to the podcast, I will be creating a Patreon account. For those who do not know, Patreon allows artists to monetize their work at various tiers. I am currently planning on offering three tiers: Supporter, where you pay $1 a month just to show support for ongoing projects, Member, where you pay $5 a month to get excerpts of ongoing writing works, early releases of the podcast, membership in a Discord server I will be creating for followers of the Patreon, and the ability to request certain topics for the podcast, and lastly Subscriber for $10 a month, which gets you everything the Members get plus for every two months of membership at that tier, you can choose any of my works to be shipped to you, signed, for no additional cost (this will include future works as well).
  4. Lastly, I am still working on a few other writing projects that will likely be released as short story collections or smaller novels. I am also working to get the No Monsters digital edition completed, hopefully by November.

So, there is quite a bit going on. Please reach out with questions or if you are interested in participating in the podcast. The plan is to build a collection of a dozen or so episodes BEFORE I release any of them, and similarly I will not launch the Patreon until I have the content to populate it (I won’t let people pay for nothing).

Thanks for reading,

T.H.

Excerpt – The Writhing Earth

This is an early version of a story that will appear in No Monsters, and therefore some formatting, mechanics, and components may change upon final review and revision.

THE WRITHING EARTH

Light shone down on Alice’s eyelids, forcing them open too soon. The rocking of the boat had been constant during the night, and sleep had come slowly. It didn’t help that she was hungry as well. She tried to roll over, to hide herself from the sun under the rough canopy of her rowboat, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and her shelter was thin.

Sighing, she sat up and squinted around in the early morning dawn. With a grunt, she hauled up her makeshift anchor, a bucket with stones weighing it down, and dropped it in the back third of her boat. She’d been living out here for months now. With great care, she folded back most of the canopy above, wet from morning dew. She needed a tarp or something water repellant soon, because when the rain came, or worse, the snow, she would have to find a way to stay dry. 

She pulled the oars in and set herself at the bench, back to the prow of the metal rowboat. She looked to her right, at the coast, and started to row. If she was lucky, she’d catch a current somewhere that would let her coast on for a bit, but otherwise she would just have to pull herself along as steadily as her arms would allow. At least there was no wind. She hadn’t reasoned out how to make a sail for her craft yet, and so wind was more challenge than potential ally.

For a few hours, she crusied down the coast until she saw a large house jutting out off the shore, with a dock. Alice slowed her craft down and scanned the trees, lawn, and surrouding terrain. Nothing was moving. She pulled her old binoculars free of their protective case and scanned the site more closely. No mounds, no shifting soil or grass, the bark on the trees didn’t appear to be moving. She put the binoculars down and thought for a bit. He stomach rumbled.

She moved the boat in towards shore and dropped her anchor about ten yards away, where the water was still over her head. She grabbed a beat up backpack from the boat and dropped a screwdriver and hammer in it. Then, with it weighed down a bit, she gave it a heave towards the shoreline. It landed just at the edge of the water. Waiting a minute or two, she saw nothing, so she jumped over the side, gasped at the cold, and swam, then sloshed, her way to shore.

Without hesitation she scooped up the bag and made for the house. It had big sliding glass doors that she made sure to pull on before using the hammer to shatter the glass. She cleared it from the edges of the frame and slipped inside. Luckily, the house was well lit. She found her way to the pantry and began grabbing canned goods, bottled water, and bagged food she thought might still be good. All of it went in the bag quickly, and without a second thought.

The ant appeared when she was reaching for another can of soup. She froze, the little creature wiggling its antennae at her. In a split second, she was bolting for the door. More of the ants could now be seen crawling up from the vents in the floor and walls. A line of them was marching around the large couch in the sitting room she’d broken into. Without stopping to think, she sprinted out the door and vaulted the porch balcony down to the ground below, landing and stumbling as she raced to the dock. From it’s edge, she hurled the backpack, already in mid jump herself as it was landing it in her boat.

She swam to the vessel and hauled herself aboard, stripping off all her clothes immediately. She stood naked in the sun, scanning every inch of her body for bites or marks, but saw nothing. A broken mirror let her confirm the same of her back and shoulders. Shivering, she sat down hard on the bench of the rowboat. Her head went down into her hands, and she sobbed.

Two days later, Alice was rounding a small peninsula to see a town in the distance. She stopped rowing, letting the current and tide bring her a bit nearer. Through her binoculars, she spotted a hardware store and maintenance shop. There might be the place to get her waterproofing gear, and maybe more. There was a dock, and this time, with so many potential places to loot, she opted to break out her secret weapon. 

Alice brought the rowboat to the edge of the dock and, holding the lead rope in one hand, hopped onto it. She immediately began spraying the wood around her, and the rope, with ant poison. When she was done, she tossed the now empty can aside and laid out a few little ant traps around the end of the dock. She straightened and looked around. Nothing, no movement, no signs of any threat. She hesitated, then grabbing two worn backpacks, she slung one over each shoulder and made her way into the town.

It took her no time at all to find a good tarp, but she had to lug it back separately as it was too big for her bags. She also grabbed a few solid cuts of wood to try and fix up the frame of her shelter. Satisfied with that, she scored a few fresh cans of ant poison and traps in the hardware shop. She was relaxed now, perusing beef jerky stands and other snacks for something edible she could bring back, when she heard the floorboards creak behind her.

Spinning, she saw a man with a purple bandana a ragged beard. He put his hands up immediately. “Hey, I’m not looking for trouble, just getting supplies.” 

Alice didn’t answer, she skirted away from him, putting the counter between the two. He tried to smile, but she didn’t return the gesture, so he shrugged. He tossed his old duffel bag on the counter and started loading it up. “I’m not staying here, so I won’t be taking all your stuff, but I need something to keep me moving.” He looked back at the aisles leading to the rear of the store. “Do they have any of that No-Doz shit or whatever? Sometimes there’s nowhere to pause on the road.”

“You’ve been on the roads?” Alice’s voice betrayed her disbelief.

“Yeah, well, my car died and now I’ve been on foot like,” he paused, thinking, “three days? Trying to stay ahead of the bugs.”

“Their everywhere though,” Alice said, “even the small colonies will come out if you linger anywhere.”

“Yeah well,” he was moving to the back of the shop, pulling items free, “not much of a choice right? You must be on the move too.”

“I’ve got a boat.”

The man stopped. He turned and looked at her. “Here?”

“At the dock. I put spray and traps down, it should be good for another hour or so.”

“You …got any room?”

Alice hesitated. “It’s too small for two maybe but,” she looked outside at the boat shop. “Maybe there’s a skiff or something I could tie up to the boat?”

“Nah, no don’t worry about that. I’ll find my own, never thought of using a boat.” He smiled. “Man, you’re a clever kid.”

“Had to be.”

He continued stuffing his bag and Alice grabbed some more food off the racks herself, then he said sharply. “You feel that?”

Alice didn’t. She looked around, nothing was moving or shaking or shimmering. “No, what….”

“Come on!” He was fast. He grabbed her arm and yanked her behind him. She had to stop and grab her other bag as some of the food spilled out. “Leave it! Where is the boat?”

Alice zipped the dropped bag up and ran past him without a word. He followed her. As they were rounding the boathouse she felt it too, a great rumbling. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the trees appear to sway and waver, like they had long grass growing off of them, flowing in a breeze. She untied the boat and tossed her bags into it. “Get in!” 

He didn’t need an invitation. The man clambered aboard and reached out one arm. Alice took it and he hauled her into the boat. Without paying him any mind, she grabbed the oars and started rowing aggressively away from shore. There was no second set, so he watched the coast as the mound of ants, tens of thousands or hundreds even, rolled like some wave of hellish black water into the fishing village. They reared up at the edge of the water, some of them spilling in and quickly retreating from it, and the two voyagers watched the nightmare scene receded until Alice stopped rowing.

“Hey, should we get further away?”

“We need to stay near the coast. I’ve got no map or compass, and no idea how to use them anyway. The only way to get food or water is to stay by the coastline.”

“Right,” the man turned away from the shore at last, “fucking swarms seem to get faster every time.”

Alice didn’t answer. She was thinking about why the ants were there, what they had done to survive, just like her. When the world began to lose it’s species of animals, it’s sources of food, it’s ecological balance, she and the other teens of her day saw the culmination of all the things they had tried to warn their elders of. But none of them had anticipated how the ants would adapt. They were losing their sources of food, their shelters, but they also had a terrifying advantage: numbers. 

Especially now, since they had consumed many, many humans to feed their massive nests and colonies. The latter roamed the earth in great waves and mounds, like the one they had just managed to avoid. Alice had heard rumors from other survivors that there were whole fields of bones of people picked clean further inland, swallowed up by the ants.

“The names Josh by the way.”

“Alice.”

“Thanks for saving me, Alice.”

“Sure.”

There was silence for a while, then Josh asked. “When’s the last time you saw another person?”

Alice thought for a bit. “Maybe a month ago? You?”

“Couple weeks.” 

They didn’t talk again after that.

Maybe ten days later, Josh and Alice were cruising up the coast, him on the oars and her scouting with the binoculars. She had to admit, it was a lot easier with a second set of hands, and Josh was a good guy. He rationed food and drink, took turns on the oars, and had helped improve the shelter for the boat. They were doing alright, and Alice was wary of the fact she was starting to get a little hopeful.

“You know, there are those islands that never had any insects on them….”

Alice never took her eyes off the shore. “You’ve mentioned Iceland before.”

“And Greenland, I think.”

“We can’t get there in a rowboat.”

“Well, no, not without a lot of supplies and maybe we tie some other boats together. Or maybe we find a bigger boat we can take that way.”

“We don’t know what that way is.”

“Right, but if we did….” Josh trailed off. Alice didn’t mind his daydreaming. He’d brought up the idea of the remote islands a few times. Places where the ants couldn’t go, where they’d be safe to be on land. He was right, she thought, about there being places where insects had either never been or barely reached, but there was no way she could figure to get there. It didn’t hurt to let Josh think about it though, and if she were being honest she appreciated his optimism, futile as it was.

The sun was going down as they rounded another of the jagged lines of coast and both had settled into their respective places when Josh sat up. “Is that, is that a light?”

Alice followed his gaze. Sure enough, around a corner of the tree-lined coast, was a bright light beaming out onto the water. Then, as they continued to float along, she saw a second. “Get the oars,” she said, but Josh was already moving into position.

They curled around and saw a small seaside town, lit up with bright buring lamps and with people clearly milling about. The two of them looked at eachother in total disbelief. It simply couldn’t be possible, could it? Alice grabbed her binoculars and zoomed in on the town. There were people, several dozen at least, moving about and chatting as though it were a perfectly normal thing to be doing. Josh had already begun to turn the boat.

“We should anchor off the side, not right in front of the town. Something seems off.”

“The whole fucking thing is off, but…” he looked at her and grinned, “come on! Maybe these guys figured out how to keep the ants out!”

Alice didn’t buy it and, luckily, Josh didn’t need to be asked twice to be a bit more discreet. He navigated away from the direct approach and found them another dock, this one with a larger sailboat attached to it. Together, they hooked their smaller vessel to the dock and the bigger boat. “You never know,” Josh said, “maybe we sneak out of here with our flagship after all!”

They began the slow walk to the town, cautious and on edge. Even Josh, who had been more excitement than fear when they first set eyes on it, changed his tune as they got closer. There were voices and laughter, it all seemed so normal. Alice had brought her hammer with her, gripped tight in one hand. Josh had an axe he’d found near where they’d docked. Even if he was hopeful, he clearly wasn’t going to be stupid.

They suddenly emerged from the wood to a large road that itself opened onto a bigger square. It was impossible not to be seen, the people all turned and saw them as soon as they walked out of the treeline. Three came over, two bearing lanterns, and held them up. A middle-aged woman in a brown dress, head wrap, and leggings greeted them warmly. “Well hello, travelers! Welcome to our town!”

Alice and Josh looked at one another, each trying to think of how to respond. Alice took a breath and said, “How are you free of the ants? Where are they? Do you have scouts? Guards?”

“My dear,” the woman smiled and stepped forward, “we have no need to fear the ants here. We are protected. Please, you must be tired and hungry. Come along, we can feed you and I will answer your questions in time.”

Again, the two exchanged a look, but Josh shrugged and came forward. They made no move to take his axe and he gave no indication of handing it over. The woman was asking their names and Josh gave them. She dutifully announced them to those milling about and they were greeted again and again by the people of the town. Together, Alice and Josh were led to a large building that must have once been a pub. Indeed, it seemed to be acting as a sort of meeting place for everyone where food and drink could be had. 

Warm bowls of gruel and fruit were offered. Josh tore into his ravenously, but Alice set her hammer on the table and scanned the room. The woman sat across from them. “My name is Helen, I’m one of the elders of the town. I was here before …well before you know what.”

“The ants, the swarms,” Alice said, still studying the room. She accepted a cup of water. “How is this possible?”

“Yeah,” Josh said around a mouthful of the gruel, “this is amazing. How are you able to live like this? Why haven’t you attracted like, every nest in the surrounding thousand miles?”

“Like I said,” Helen replied, “we are protected.”

Alice ignored the conversation, looking around the room she noted the oddities that had eluded her at first. Every person seemed to be covered with draping fabric, and in odd ways. It wasn’t the warmth, as it was a cool night, but the strange choices of coverings. Men with ball caps that had long cloths stretching down, tucked into the tops of their shirts or coats. Women with their mouths and noses obscured, and almost everyone wearing thin gloves. She shifted in her seat and realized Helen was staring at her. “Eat your meal, dear, you must be starving.”

Alice didn’t like her tone. “No, actually, I’m alright.”

“Like Hell you are,” Josh said, laughing, “we’ve been raioning food for months! Come on, try it! This stuff is great!” 

He leaned over to scoop at her gruel and Alice pushed him away. “Something is off.” She looked at Helen. “How do you keep them away?”

“We are protected.” 

“By what?”

Helen just smiled and didn’t answer. Alice stood and retrieved her hammer. “I appreciate the offer of food, but I’m not interested. Come on, Josh.”

“We have plenty of room for you to stay. No more need to run, to be desparetly searching for a safe place for a few hours sleep.” Helen leaned in and her voice was sincere. “Really, child, you’re safe here.”

“Well, I don’t feel safe.” Alice nudged Josh, “Come on.”

“Yeah,” Josh said, but he winced. “Uh, give me a second, I don’t feel so great.”

Alice tried to get him up. “Come on, man, we need to go.”

“It’s too late for that.” Helen was standing now, a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “He’s had the gruel, and now he must wait to see how he will be accepted.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” Alice looked down at her own bowl. Something shifted in it. “Holy shit.”

“When the ants came, there was nothing man or woman could do to stop it.” Helen kept one hand on Josh, who cried out in pain and began to double over. “We had to find a way to coexist. You see, ants operate on hive minds, and they care most about their own preservation. We destroyed so much of their food supply, but some of them must have realized if they consumed us unceasingly, it would be the end of them.” She turned and thrust her chin at a few townspeople, who came to take Josh and lay him on the ground, a pillow beneath his head. He was screaming in pain and his muscles were taut under his skin.

“When the larvae mature they will secrete chemicals that numb the pain. This is hard, this part, but I assure you,” she smiled at Alice, and an ant ran along the top of her teeth, then up her cheek and back under her eyelid, “you don’t even notice it once the symbiosis is complete.”

“Alice!” Josh screamed, “get out! Get out now!”

Helen’s hand caught her wrist. The sleeve rolled back as she stretched out, and Alice could see the holes in her flesh, the pincers and antennae poking out of the skin. “They feed on us enough to keep the colony alive, and in turn they keep the others away. It’s a necessary evolution, my dear.”

Alice watched one of the ants crawl free of Helen’s arm and start to skitter towards her own. “Fuck no.”

She swung the hammer and Helen released her grip in an attempt to ward the blow off. It landed with a sickening sound, like the flesh of her arm was softer than it ought to be. Blood and other indescribable fluids came flying out. Alice did not stop to see what was next, she ran from the room. 

Outside, there were townspeople still. Standing about, chatting, laughing, like it was all normal. Then they heard the shrieks and Helen’s cries for help. Some of the people seemed to crumble or buckle, and their parasitic companions spewed forth to give chase to Alice. She sprinted through then woods, stumbling and clawing her way through the trees. She reached the dock and grabbed the spray bottle of ant killer she’d left on the edge of the boat. She turned and loosed it, driving back the writhing mass coming down the dock, ever bigger as more and more of the nest joined it. 

She pulled the rope loose and abandoned the dock, leaping and grabbing the railing of the larger boat, hoping she could cross it and find a way down to her own. As she pulled herself onto the deck, she saw a motor at the back. Beyond the rear of the boat the ants and their hosts were emerging from the woods. Some of the people were making as though to enter the water.

Alice ran for the motor and slammed her finger into the primer, yanking at the cord. It sputtered, and she pulled again as hard as she could. It sprang to life, and she rushed to the front and rammed the accelerator as far forward as it would go. The boat lurched and heaved away from the shore. She kept it going, not daring to look back, for several minutes. All the while, she waited to feel tiny legs crawling up her own, or see the writhing mass of some ants that had reached the boat begin to creep into her peripheral vision. When that didn’t happen, she finally stopped the boat.

Turning, she looked aftward. She could faintly see the lights of the nightmare town in the distance, just specks on the barely perceptible shore. She looked over the edge of the ship. Her old rowboat was battered and swaying next to it, but it seemed some of her things had stayed inside. She exhaled, and it rapidly turned into a sob as she wailed her distress into the endless dark of the sea. She straightened and ran a hand through her hair. Something moved in it, and with a shriek of unbridled terror she threw herself off the boat and into the water below.

The next morning, she was still in the water, shivering, clutching the rope tying the two boats to one another. Her teeth chattered and her soaked clothing weighed her down, but she could not bring herself to clamber onto either vessel. Everytime she thought to, she swore she saw something move on the railings.

So she waited, floating out to sea, hoping the end wasn’t already inside her.