Snipers, fan-clubs, secret agents, and even distant relatives seem all bent on one purpose: to separate Hugo from her friends, her family, even her own people group; but most importantly, they seem bent on separating her from the Traditions that her people have given their lives for. But why? No "Plan B" has Hugo wondering "why" throughout the whole book. Why do snipers keep shooting at her and her best friend John? Why does John's dad seem bent on his own secret mission? Why does John's neighbor seem so mean to her? And, most importantly, why are the Traditions of her people so important? Can anyone answer these questions? Or is Hugo destined for a life of confusion and abandonment-away from all that she knows and hold so dear?

John's near-death record is" Encouraged by the Light ."
"I enjoyed a Kindle copy. I think you did a good job of both being objective and Scriptural." -Michael, Bible translator and linguist
"It is a good read from the very beginning." -Carolyn, John's friend
"I thank John for sharing his experience. It has surely made an impact in my life."
-Katrina, administrator of a very popular website
John plunges you into the chaotic challenges occurring at the scene of the car accident. You immediately identify with the confusion, the critical head injury, and the resulting traumatic brain injury he sustained.

Dr. Jim, the emergency room doctor, can't get hold of either of John's parents. He needs permission to operate on John's face, provide medicine, and run tests.

However, the EMTs solve that problem. They incorrectly told the other parents which hospital they took their kid to. (They also left one of the kids at the scene of the accident.) The owners of the car John was in arrive and provide the needed permission.

John is patched up. When he is conscious he is delirious, otherwise he is comatose.

His mom finally gets word.

One would think all the drama would now subside, however it doesn't. Instead John suddenly finds himself in a normal conscious state, even though he is outside and above his own, physical body.

Although he is blind from two, huge, swollen, black eyes, John witnesses the conversation between his mother and Doctor Jim. He sees and hears them even though there is a really thick concrete wall between him and them.

Not long after that, yet another out-of-body experience occurs. This time he sees all the flowers he and his parents' friends sent. They are beautiful and later are the subject of a conversation between him and Mom.

On another occasion, while still in and out of a comma and delirium, John raises his arm; presents his hand; and rises up ever so slightly out of his body--so as to see each time his dad says, "John, you have a visitor. Can you take their hand and tell me who it is?" He identifies every visitor correctly.

Since his father has no way to explain such a phenomenon, he says, "I guess what they say is true, 'When a person goes blind, their other senses improve to compensate.'"

John also experienced an extended trip to another, wonderful place...

Hummm... Maybe you should just by the book.

What do you do if your potato falls of the plate, use a hammer to get it back?

Trying to make sense with worldly nonsense. Just bring the laughs, I'll provide the book that is the entertainment.

Within the realm of American culture and its construction of its citizenry, geography, and ideology, who are southerners and who are queers, and what is the South and what is queerness? Queering the South on Screen addresses these questions by examining the intersections of queerness, regionalism, and identity depicted in film, television, and other visual media about the South during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Southern queers on screen often reflect the fantasy of cultural stereotypes. Editor Tison Pugh contends that when southern queers appear in films and on television, and when southern queers watch these portrayals, the inherent contradictions of these cultural depictions reveal the fault lines of gender, geography, and desire. These underlying schisms point to the infinite, if infrequently portrayed, possibilities of actual queer southern life. Examining a range of materials, including gothic horror films and drag queens on public-access television, the contributors show that queer southerners have always expressed desires for distinctiveness in the making and consumption of visual media. Read together, the introduction and twelve chapters deconstruct premeditated labels of identity such as queer and southern. In doing so, they expose the reflexive nature of these labels to construct ideological fantasies of southerners regardless of the complexity of their lives.

Within the realm of American culture and its construction of its citizenry, geography, and ideology, who are southerners and who are queers, and what is the South and what is queerness? Queering the South on Screen addresses these questions by examining the intersections of queerness, regionalism, and identity depicted in film, television, and other visual media about the South during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Southern queers on screen often reflect the fantasy of cultural stereotypes. Editor Tison Pugh contends that when southern queers appear in films and on television, and when southern queers watch these portrayals, the inherent contradictions of these cultural depictions reveal the fault lines of gender, geography, and desire. These underlying schisms point to the infinite, if infrequently portrayed, possibilities of actual queer southern life. Examining a range of materials, including gothic horror films and drag queens on public-access television, the contributors show that queer southerners have always expressed desires for distinctiveness in the making and consumption of visual media. Read together, the introduction and twelve chapters deconstruct premeditated labels of identity such as queer and southern. In doing so, they expose the reflexive nature of these labels to construct ideological fantasies of southerners regardless of the complexity of their lives.