Hello everyone. It’s been a while. I can’t even begin to Summarize my last two months, so I will save that for another day. I am dictating this to my phone, so please excuse any typos, random capitalization and punctuation, and words that might not seem quite right.
At some point, I will have stories to tell you guys about what’s been going on with me. They are stories of major life changes, of finding yourself, and of teasing pretty guys. They will find their way into my fiction someday, I’m sure of that.
But for now, I have a new publication to share with you. My story is called the Thunderbird photo, and it is part of hidden histories, An anthology published by third flatiron.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PRN5ZQ1 e-book link
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1732218986 Paperback link
The book is all about secret histories and conspiracies, the “truth “behind events from history, both real and imagined. My story is called the Thunderbird photo, and it’s a surprisingly personal one.
There’s something called the Mandela effect. This is when a large group of people share a false memory of something that never happened. It was named after him Nelson Mandela, because when he died, a lot of people erroneously remembered him having died in the 1980s, not the 2000s. There are other Mandela effects, Ranging from people remembering movies that never existed, to remembering major events in history in a completely different way than everyone else. This is not a simple memory error in one person, because many people remember it or “remember “it the same way. Read more about it here: https://mandelaeffect.com/
One of my favorite Mandela effects involves a picture of a Thunderbird. A lot of people remember seeing a famous photo, almost definitely a hoax, of a gigantic bird that had been killed somewhere in the wild west sometime in the late 1800s. Except when you try to find that photo? It doesn’t exist. Or it doesn’t look the way everyone remembers. I am one of these people.
I distinctly remember seeing a photo in a book called mysteries of the unexplained. The bird was propped up against a barn in a black-and-white photo and the man who had killed it or pose in front of it. I have looked for this photo. It is not in the book. It is not anywhere on the Internet. There are some modern day re-creations of this photo, but they put the bird on the roof of the barn instead of against the wall, or the “bird“ is actually a pterodactyl, or 1000 other inconsistencies that do not line up with the photo I remember so clearly from my childhood.
That is what my story is about.