Rival Gates's Blog, page 45
March 15, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Bander had been standing by Miri and happened to look behind them. “I never will understand farmers,” he said. “Here they have a beautiful day in which to work, and they decide not to harvest until after the sun sets.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Anvar asked as he joined his nephew.
“See,” Bander said as he pointed at the field. “Look at all those torches. It would have been much easier to work during the day.”
Anvar was immediately alarmed and fetched Linvin. “We have a problem to our rear,” he told their leader.
Linvin briskly walked to the edge of their cover and peered out at the field to the north. Though the sky had become completely dark, hundreds of torches were moving through the rows and lighting the field. They came from the north, east and west. The torches to the sides were spread apart at equal intervals. The ones to the north, however, were moving single file down the exact route Linvin’s party had traveled.
Rander joined him. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are they actually trying to harvest in the dark?”
Linvin rubbed the region between his eyes in frustration. “Tell me Rander, do you never tier of being wrong? That is a search party closing in on us. The group to the north is following our trail. The others are methodically eliminating the possibility that we may be hiding just out of sight in the field.”
“They are everywhere,” Rander said in a panicked voice. “We won’t outrun them on foot. We must take to horse.”
“The beasts are done in after the day’s march,” Linvin said. “Though we could ride a short distance, if we tried to escape that way, those soldiers would be close enough to hear us and see us take flight.”
“Then how should we proceed?” Anvar asked.
Linvin thought for a moment as he watched the search pattern. Then he ran to the other side of the hedgerow and took note of the road running east and west. Returning to the others, his plan was set.
“Anvar, have everyone in their saddle and ready to ride when I return.”
“Return from where?” Anvar inquired.
“Their teams will meet up in the middle of the field,” Linvin said. “I will go there to buy us time.”
“I thought you wanted to avoid a fight?” Bander asked.
“So I shall,” Linvin answered. He reached down on the ground and picked up two stones of the size used in a sling. “This is all I will need. Now wait for me. I shall not be long.” In a moment, he was gone. It was as though the night consumed him in an instant.
Linvin ducked low and ran with speed and stealth. His goal was to reach the place where the search parties would join before they arrived. He made good time and reached his goal just ahead of the torches. Then he laid down flat on the ground close to the plants and covered himself with dried leaves from the stalks. Next he had to calm his breathing. It was a tactic he’d been taught as a scout during his youth in Valia. By the time the searchers came together, Linvin was camouflaged and silent.
“Whatever are you talking about?” Anvar asked as he joined his nephew.
“See,” Bander said as he pointed at the field. “Look at all those torches. It would have been much easier to work during the day.”
Anvar was immediately alarmed and fetched Linvin. “We have a problem to our rear,” he told their leader.
Linvin briskly walked to the edge of their cover and peered out at the field to the north. Though the sky had become completely dark, hundreds of torches were moving through the rows and lighting the field. They came from the north, east and west. The torches to the sides were spread apart at equal intervals. The ones to the north, however, were moving single file down the exact route Linvin’s party had traveled.
Rander joined him. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are they actually trying to harvest in the dark?”
Linvin rubbed the region between his eyes in frustration. “Tell me Rander, do you never tier of being wrong? That is a search party closing in on us. The group to the north is following our trail. The others are methodically eliminating the possibility that we may be hiding just out of sight in the field.”
“They are everywhere,” Rander said in a panicked voice. “We won’t outrun them on foot. We must take to horse.”
“The beasts are done in after the day’s march,” Linvin said. “Though we could ride a short distance, if we tried to escape that way, those soldiers would be close enough to hear us and see us take flight.”
“Then how should we proceed?” Anvar asked.
Linvin thought for a moment as he watched the search pattern. Then he ran to the other side of the hedgerow and took note of the road running east and west. Returning to the others, his plan was set.
“Anvar, have everyone in their saddle and ready to ride when I return.”
“Return from where?” Anvar inquired.
“Their teams will meet up in the middle of the field,” Linvin said. “I will go there to buy us time.”
“I thought you wanted to avoid a fight?” Bander asked.
“So I shall,” Linvin answered. He reached down on the ground and picked up two stones of the size used in a sling. “This is all I will need. Now wait for me. I shall not be long.” In a moment, he was gone. It was as though the night consumed him in an instant.
Linvin ducked low and ran with speed and stealth. His goal was to reach the place where the search parties would join before they arrived. He made good time and reached his goal just ahead of the torches. Then he laid down flat on the ground close to the plants and covered himself with dried leaves from the stalks. Next he had to calm his breathing. It was a tactic he’d been taught as a scout during his youth in Valia. By the time the searchers came together, Linvin was camouflaged and silent.
March 13, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“Why did you bring us to this place?” Linvin asked.
Anvar paused for a moment. “I wanted the three of you to see what was lost here. Remember the price paid for your freedoms. Remember the dead, but learn from them as well. To do so, will prevent you from joining them quickly.”
“Come,” Anvar continued, “let us resume our journey.”
As Anvar put his foot in the stirrup of this saddle, Rander took hold of his arm. “Is this the place where our father died?”
Anvar pulled his arm free and took to his saddle.
“It is hard to say with certainty when your father met his demise.”
“We know he died in the war. Just tell us, please,” begged Bander.
Anvar sighed and answered, “This was the last place he was known to have been. I think it is safe to say he lies somewhere in this field. I brought you here with the intent of revealing the news to you. Then, I reconsidered because I was not sure you could handle such a report. I am sorry, my dear nephews.”
The twins looked at one another and wept. They scanned the loose stones for some sort of marker. Only the obelisk stood with purpose.
Wind blew the tears at an angle across their faces. The droplets fell upon the rocks, cleansing the dirt from the surface.
Linvin wept for the twins. Though never close to their father, they were at least civil to one another.
At last, Rander spoke, “does mother know of this?”
“She knows that he died in the war,” Anvar said. “Any more than that, she did not want to hear. I imagine his loss had something to do with the way she coddled you both. Linvin, being a soldier himself, only fed her dislike of her nephew. It was in the years after your father’s death that she taught you to distrust the military and fighting in general. Perhaps now, you can fully appreciate how difficult it was to allow you to go on the quest.”
Rander was closest to his mother and realized her pain. Even so, questions needed answers. “You were here, weren’t you, Uncle Anvar?”
“Where I was, is not for you to know,” Anvar gently scolded. “It is enough to say that I am confident in my facts.”
“That’s not good enough!” cried Bander. “Answer Rander’s question.”
Anvar turned his horse to the road and calmly responded, “Accept my answer or don’t. Regardless of your resolve, that is all the information I can give you. Now, take to your saddles and return with me to the road.”
The cousins looked at one another in silence. Anvar did not look back as he returned the way they had come. His nephews soon followed. They brimmed with questions and skepticism but knew better than to engage in a battle of wills with their uncle.
Anvar paused for a moment. “I wanted the three of you to see what was lost here. Remember the price paid for your freedoms. Remember the dead, but learn from them as well. To do so, will prevent you from joining them quickly.”
“Come,” Anvar continued, “let us resume our journey.”
As Anvar put his foot in the stirrup of this saddle, Rander took hold of his arm. “Is this the place where our father died?”
Anvar pulled his arm free and took to his saddle.
“It is hard to say with certainty when your father met his demise.”
“We know he died in the war. Just tell us, please,” begged Bander.
Anvar sighed and answered, “This was the last place he was known to have been. I think it is safe to say he lies somewhere in this field. I brought you here with the intent of revealing the news to you. Then, I reconsidered because I was not sure you could handle such a report. I am sorry, my dear nephews.”
The twins looked at one another and wept. They scanned the loose stones for some sort of marker. Only the obelisk stood with purpose.
Wind blew the tears at an angle across their faces. The droplets fell upon the rocks, cleansing the dirt from the surface.
Linvin wept for the twins. Though never close to their father, they were at least civil to one another.
At last, Rander spoke, “does mother know of this?”
“She knows that he died in the war,” Anvar said. “Any more than that, she did not want to hear. I imagine his loss had something to do with the way she coddled you both. Linvin, being a soldier himself, only fed her dislike of her nephew. It was in the years after your father’s death that she taught you to distrust the military and fighting in general. Perhaps now, you can fully appreciate how difficult it was to allow you to go on the quest.”
Rander was closest to his mother and realized her pain. Even so, questions needed answers. “You were here, weren’t you, Uncle Anvar?”
“Where I was, is not for you to know,” Anvar gently scolded. “It is enough to say that I am confident in my facts.”
“That’s not good enough!” cried Bander. “Answer Rander’s question.”
Anvar turned his horse to the road and calmly responded, “Accept my answer or don’t. Regardless of your resolve, that is all the information I can give you. Now, take to your saddles and return with me to the road.”
The cousins looked at one another in silence. Anvar did not look back as he returned the way they had come. His nephews soon followed. They brimmed with questions and skepticism but knew better than to engage in a battle of wills with their uncle.
March 11, 2015
When Were You Happiest
So I was just sitting at the auto repair shop waiting for them to finish my oil change this morning when I started watching one of the morning news shows in the waiting room. They read a story in which they disclosed that the age when the average person was most happy was 34. It sounded like a very arbitrary number but I’m sure they had some sort of study to back up their statement. It started me thinking. At what age was I happiest? Before I was old enough to go to school, my mother worked in the home. That was a magical time. We had picnics and went for walks in the woods and baked all the time; it seemed. Then again, once I started school I was able to make new friends outside the family or my siblings’ friends. It was new and exciting. As I went through school I was given ever-increasing amounts of freedom. That was pretty special too. Middle school was a break from the monotony of elementary school and high school felt like I had come to life. I could pick some of my classes and had more time for friends and socializing. Then came college. At first it terrified me. Then my parents went home and I felt fine. I was treated as an adult for the first time in my life and I loved it. The classes were harder than I anticipated but Michigan State was a great place to grow. There were lots of activities and places to go and the girls…wow! I understood why people always said, “Pretty girls go to State.” Parties were like nothing I had ever seen before and it was generally nice to be around people of your same intelligence level (not high or low) with shared interests. Then I met my wife. She was shy. I was outgoing. She liked science. I liked English and humanities. She liked the Greek system. I…did not. She Liked me. I liked her. I asked her to marry me before someone else noticed her. She agreed and I put a ring on her finger ( a small ring). She was off the market. Now all I had to do was graduate and get a job. Both took a lot of work. After graduation I took a terrible job but there wasn’t much out there for Communication majors. It was good enough to get married. Maybe that was the best time? We started a family right away and I saw each of my children be born. That was very special…and pretty messy if I’m being honest. Why can’t babies come out all clean like on TV? The jobs kept improving and I was happier with each one. Then came the day I kept my word to my mother and published my first book. The editor’s copy is still sitting a few feet from me. Then the second book came out and soon I will have a third. When was I happiest? Boy, that’s a hard one. So many things have gone well in my life, it is hard to choose. I’d like to say I can’t pick one and for an actual age, that’s true. However, I was the happiest ever when my wife agreed to marry me. That tops the list.
March 10, 2015
Allergies
As a writer I like to use personification in my work. It adds a little something extra I find. In real life I find myself personifying something as well; allergies. When I was younger it seemed like almost no one was allergic to anything. Sure there would be the kid at school who couldn’t go out at recess because a bee sting could kill him but for the most part there just weren’t allergies to speak of. Then pollen became the rage. Everyone including yours truly to a certain extent was allergic to pollen. Along with it came ragweed and a host of other nasal allergies. All sorts of scents gave problems. One girl I know is allergic to the smell of lilac. The monster grew. Then food allergies came to light. At first I thought these were restricted to third world countries where they were allergic to milk but the problem grew fast. Lactose intolerance was a term that entered our daily lives. Even my son has it. Then there were nut intolerances, egg intolerances, iodine allergies (shellfish and surprisingly nearly every Chinese food) and the latest to strike my family, the dreaded gluten intolerance. The monster became enormous. Two of my children have that one. Our meals are planned based on what child will be around to eat. If the gluten free ones are out, it’s pizza time! Bring on the pasta! You get my point. My kids don’t like Chinese food and my wife is the iodine problem so if I want Chinese food I pretty much have to go by myself. It just seems like more and more of these allergies are coming out to get us. A friend of my daughter is allergic to the red color dye in food. How did a doctor figure that one out? Were these problems not around before and we have become more sensitive as a society? Are foods being prepared in a different way or grown with some genetic enhancement that causes reactions? Are we finally diagnosing things they slapped the wrong labels on in the past? And if you subscribe to that theory, who is to say they are not putting the wrong labels on these illnesses now? Perhaps only genetically modified wheat causes gluten problems. Perhaps only cows given growth hormones produce milk that is lactose intolerant. It sounds farfetched but so did all of these allergies 20 years ago. It’s interesting which things are not on the allergy list. Take corn for example. It is one of the most genetically modified foods on the planet, yet I never hear about a corn allergy. Then there is meat. I don’t hear about allergies to beef, pork or chicken either and they have all been modified since before I was born. Regardless of the source, that allergy monster keeps gobbling up new items to be allergic to. It seems like every day I hear about a new one. The beast is moving faster than science as there is no way to combat many of these allergies other than staying away from them. There has been much more success on the nasal ones than the food type. Likely the reason is they have had longer to study them. Hopefully science will get this under control before the monster strikes again.
March 8, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
While he others bedded down the horses and exchanged stories, Linvin tended to Miri. He removed her bloodstained robe like a doctor examining a patient. She was more of an injured comrade than a voluptuous woman at that moment in his mind. He cut the sheets into long bandages with the help of Falconfeather. Then he set about cleaning her wounds. Using his own robe he washed her cuts. Though he was relieved they were not still hemorrhaging, Miri had clearly lost a considerable amount of blood. The fact she remained unconscious gave him more reason for concern. He wrapped her torso with bandages and then wrapped sacks around her to keep her warm. Her breaths were shallow but they were still breaths. When his work was done Linvin sat back against the barn wall and looked at the beautiful princess, wrapped like a mummy.
Anvar brought him some water. “How is she?” he asked.
Linvin took a drink and returned the water skin to his uncle. “I really am not sure. I have seen more than my share of wounds on the battlefield but nothing like this. Her entire back side has been scathed. None of her ribs are out of place but I am certain the breaks are inhibiting her breathing. I will watch her tonight, but if she does not wake by morning, I fear she may never. All of it is my fault.”
“How can you say that?” Anvar asked in shock.
“You were right, Uncle. I could have finished Hugon much quicker. I could have spared her some of this pain and perhaps her life if I had not sought vengeance. Once again I lost sight of the bigger issue and failed.”
Anvar recalled his words on the ride earlier in the day. He observed the agony of his nephew and sought to console the weary warrior. “My words were meant to inspire you to become greater, not to tear you down. Though it sounds like criticism to want you to be greater, you have lost sight of the fact I am acknowledging you are great already. From your account, Hugon did the bulk of his damage before you ever engaged him in battle. Perhaps you could have ended the melee more quickly but I doubt Miri’s condition would have been much better. You are not to blame for this situation. I see now my lesson, which was intended to make you aspire to be better, only sewed the seed of guilt in your mind. For that I am sorry and wish I could take back those words.
“You are, however, dwelling on the negative. Had you not gone back for her, to keep your promise, she would most assuredly be dead. Whatever happens from this point forward, you did save her life. You are an honorable man and I am proud to call you my nephew. Only such a man as you would have been chosen for the Red Sapphire.”
Linvin’s head jerked up as he heard the words. “Do you think the Red Sapphire can heal her?”
Anvar shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. I know my powers help me to heal very quickly but I have never been able to transfer that curing power to another. You said you are able to communicate with the gem. Now might be a good time to do just that.” On that note Anvar took to his feet and joined the others.
Anvar brought him some water. “How is she?” he asked.
Linvin took a drink and returned the water skin to his uncle. “I really am not sure. I have seen more than my share of wounds on the battlefield but nothing like this. Her entire back side has been scathed. None of her ribs are out of place but I am certain the breaks are inhibiting her breathing. I will watch her tonight, but if she does not wake by morning, I fear she may never. All of it is my fault.”
“How can you say that?” Anvar asked in shock.
“You were right, Uncle. I could have finished Hugon much quicker. I could have spared her some of this pain and perhaps her life if I had not sought vengeance. Once again I lost sight of the bigger issue and failed.”
Anvar recalled his words on the ride earlier in the day. He observed the agony of his nephew and sought to console the weary warrior. “My words were meant to inspire you to become greater, not to tear you down. Though it sounds like criticism to want you to be greater, you have lost sight of the fact I am acknowledging you are great already. From your account, Hugon did the bulk of his damage before you ever engaged him in battle. Perhaps you could have ended the melee more quickly but I doubt Miri’s condition would have been much better. You are not to blame for this situation. I see now my lesson, which was intended to make you aspire to be better, only sewed the seed of guilt in your mind. For that I am sorry and wish I could take back those words.
“You are, however, dwelling on the negative. Had you not gone back for her, to keep your promise, she would most assuredly be dead. Whatever happens from this point forward, you did save her life. You are an honorable man and I am proud to call you my nephew. Only such a man as you would have been chosen for the Red Sapphire.”
Linvin’s head jerked up as he heard the words. “Do you think the Red Sapphire can heal her?”
Anvar shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. I know my powers help me to heal very quickly but I have never been able to transfer that curing power to another. You said you are able to communicate with the gem. Now might be a good time to do just that.” On that note Anvar took to his feet and joined the others.
March 7, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“After losing consecutive battles, the shattered remnants of the King’s army huddled in the deepest corner of this crescent, with their backs to the trees. Though battered and exhausted from the prolonged conflict, the combined might of what remained of the Mandreans’ grand army bore down on the vastly outnumbered Sartanians to deliver the final blow. Legion after legion of Mandreans, marched down the field to attack the army of Sartan. The very soil shook like thunder beneath their feet. Drums and horns filled the air with a deafening sound. The event struck terror into even the bravest men. It truly looked like the end of Sartan.
”The Mandrean general had ordered his full force to advance and not stop until every elf, dwarf and human in opposition lay dead. He watched from the back, with his entourage, as his soldiers pressed out of sight, to the Sartanian line. Confidence brimmed as they were on the verge of total victory.
“The general had underestimated his adversary. It is said, that a call had gone out throughout Sartan and every person with a bow was called to this tree line.
They hid in the trees along the deepest part of the crescent and waited. When the Mandreans neared the army of Sartan, the archers in the trees began firing their arrows and hurled death upon the invaders from three sides. The Mandrean ranks were so tight it was said a blind man with a bow could not miss. Wave after wave of arrows cascaded down on the helpless army. They could not retreat because of all the men charging behind them. They could only storm the Sartanians entrenched at the edge of the field. Soldiers on both sides were cut down like grain with a sickle. It was the attacker however, who took the greater blows. Line after line of Mandreans fell from an invisible enemy.
“Unable to see the battle lines, the Mandrean general threw all his reserves into the crucible of death. His men fought bravely and continued to advance in spite of horrific losses.
“It is said that the general had just become aware of the situation when a stray arrow struck him down. His lieutenants hesitated and argued in his stead. All the while, the arrows flew and the men fell. Some of the Mandreans made their way to our line with devastating results. Even with the support of the archers, the line nearly broke.
“As twilight neared, the Mandreans had lost the bulk of their army. What began the day as divisions and legions of men, from the massacre, numbered little more than a brigade.
“The setting sun brought a moonless night. Cries of pain from the thousands of wounded were carried on the chill of the evening air. Sartan’s battered warriors took torch in hand and searched the fields. Those from their own army, who could be saved, were carried to a nearby camp. Any found that were beyond saving or from the other side, had their throats slit forthwith. It was described to the King, as an act of mercy. Others called it vengeance. Like so many things, its description depends upon one’s point of view. Regardless of the title given the act, few wounded survived the night.
“In the morning light, the scale of murder became apparent to the victors. It was said that there was not a blade of grass to be seen through the rubble of rotting corpses. Some say one hundred thousand and others say many times that, died on this field, on that single day.”
”The Mandrean general had ordered his full force to advance and not stop until every elf, dwarf and human in opposition lay dead. He watched from the back, with his entourage, as his soldiers pressed out of sight, to the Sartanian line. Confidence brimmed as they were on the verge of total victory.
“The general had underestimated his adversary. It is said, that a call had gone out throughout Sartan and every person with a bow was called to this tree line.
They hid in the trees along the deepest part of the crescent and waited. When the Mandreans neared the army of Sartan, the archers in the trees began firing their arrows and hurled death upon the invaders from three sides. The Mandrean ranks were so tight it was said a blind man with a bow could not miss. Wave after wave of arrows cascaded down on the helpless army. They could not retreat because of all the men charging behind them. They could only storm the Sartanians entrenched at the edge of the field. Soldiers on both sides were cut down like grain with a sickle. It was the attacker however, who took the greater blows. Line after line of Mandreans fell from an invisible enemy.
“Unable to see the battle lines, the Mandrean general threw all his reserves into the crucible of death. His men fought bravely and continued to advance in spite of horrific losses.
“It is said that the general had just become aware of the situation when a stray arrow struck him down. His lieutenants hesitated and argued in his stead. All the while, the arrows flew and the men fell. Some of the Mandreans made their way to our line with devastating results. Even with the support of the archers, the line nearly broke.
“As twilight neared, the Mandreans had lost the bulk of their army. What began the day as divisions and legions of men, from the massacre, numbered little more than a brigade.
“The setting sun brought a moonless night. Cries of pain from the thousands of wounded were carried on the chill of the evening air. Sartan’s battered warriors took torch in hand and searched the fields. Those from their own army, who could be saved, were carried to a nearby camp. Any found that were beyond saving or from the other side, had their throats slit forthwith. It was described to the King, as an act of mercy. Others called it vengeance. Like so many things, its description depends upon one’s point of view. Regardless of the title given the act, few wounded survived the night.
“In the morning light, the scale of murder became apparent to the victors. It was said that there was not a blade of grass to be seen through the rubble of rotting corpses. Some say one hundred thousand and others say many times that, died on this field, on that single day.”
March 4, 2015
Back To Editing
I want to thank everyone for their patience while I was away dealing with the death of my father. In summary, he was a great man and our loss is heaven’s gain. Thank you to everyone for their prayers and support. As for writing, I hope you all had a chance to read my interview on Kelly Smith Reviews. If not here is the link again http://kellysmithreviews.blogspot.com... I wrote the interview before hearing about my father. It’s a nice piece and Kelly does such a wonderful job on her blog. It’s worth a read. I am proofreading the final edit of the second edition of “Quest for the Red Sapphire.” The new version should be up on Amazon in about a week, depending on how fast I go. Well, I had better get back to it.
March 3, 2015
My Interview
Hi fans. I’m back. I had done an interview for Kelly Smith Reviews and it has just come up for publication. You can read it here. http://kellysmithreviews.blogspot.com... It’s an easy read so relax and enjoy it.
February 25, 2015
My Father Has Passed Away
Some people touch your life so profoundly that words cannot do them justice. My father was such a man. He passed away last night after a second massive stroke. As a writer, I will try to convey why this man was so special. Dad was not easy on me and was particularly hard on my writing; being an editor and all. He demanded that I represent my family and myself in a dignified way. Having also done work in PR he would tell me that people will judge your intelligence and in fact, your entire being by the way you talk and write. If you talk like a truck driver, people will think you are a truck driver. As a result, from a young age we were expected to speak and act like adults, especially in public. You were representing your family by way of your actions and no one was going to make the family look bad. So it was that as a young boy we would have conversations about copy write law and parliamentary politics. Poor grammar was not tolerated and don’t even think about swearing. It was a policy I transferred to my own family and it still bears fruit. I am constantly complimented on how well spoken my children are. My oldest son even was hired for a job because none of the other applicants could speak as well as he could. He thanked me and I thanked my father. Dad was quotable. Before leaving for college he gave me some sage advice. “You’ll date two kinds of girls in college; the kind you take home and the kind you take home to your mother. Stay away from the first group! Never discuss politics or religion with your friends if you want to keep them. Never drink with your boss. They’ll wake up with a hangover only remembering what you said about so and so. You can only compliment a woman on her hair and when you do so you ask, ‘Did you do something different with your hair?’ When you compliment a woman’s perfume, always say it is very subtle.” He didn’t tell me to stay away from drugs until I was 19. That was a given in our family. He only spoke up after seeing a PSA. Growing up I wanted to be him. Every day he would put on his suit and go to work. Whenever you asked him a question, he always had the answer. He knew about everything from nuclear power plants to the workings of the Electoral College. It also seemed like my father could do anything. He could rebuild an engine or build a stereo. He could build or fix a TV or electrically wire a house. He could pour concrete and lay brick or plumb your house. He could grow a garden or shingle a roof. And for years he did all this with a heart condition and minor strokes. What kid wouldn’t want to be him? What I loved most of all, though, was when he would tell stories. He would talk for hours and kept you in your seat the whole time. I wanted to tell stories like him. I wanted to have my name in print like he did by his editorials. I wanted to be a writer. He was a great man and the world has suffered a great loss, even if only a hand full of people knows about it. To quote Dad, “To be published is to live forever.” Well Dad, if that is true we never really lost you.
I will be out of the country for about a week and will not have any blogs during that time. Please continue to support my Headtalker at https://headtalker.com/campaigns/ques...
I will be out of the country for about a week and will not have any blogs during that time. Please continue to support my Headtalker at https://headtalker.com/campaigns/ques...
February 24, 2015
Headtalker
To all my friends and supporters out there I need a little help. There is a tool called Headtalkers where you can support my book, “Quest for the Red Sapphire” by going to this link https://headtalker.com/campaigns/ques... and clicking Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin or Tumblr. Your contacts will just be told that you supported my book. I need to reach 50 likes and then Headtalker will put out free advertising for me. So if you wouldn’t mind taking a moment, please drop by and support my book. See, I can write a short blog!
