Almost Half of My Life

Let me tell you a little story.

There once was a troll that happened across a beautiful maiden. The maiden was kind to the troll, treating him as she would any friend. The troll feared that the maiden would soon see him for what he truly was, so in his desperation he acquired a magic ring that would forever bind the maiden to him.

Years passed and the troll felt bad for deceiving the maiden. He confessed that he had tricked her into staying with him. To his surprise the maiden had a confession of her own. The ring he had given her held no magic at all. She had stayed with him all those years because she wanted to.

In all seriousness, today is my 15th wedding anniversary. It's sometimes hard for me to grasp that a decade and a half have passed since I tricked that beautiful maiden into marrying me. Though at the time we thought we were so grown up, I look back and realize we were only kids. I mean, just look at those two baby-faces. I was 21 and she was only 18. And before you ask, no we didn't have to get married. No little buns were in the oven (that didn't come for another nine years). Not knocking that, but when we announced that we were getting married, that was the first question on almost everyone's lips. We got married because we couldn't imagine it any other way.

I realize now the reservations our families had. Marriage is a full time job, and many people just aren't up to the task. If either of my children come to me at the age of 18 and say they are tying the knot, I'm sure I'll get the same look on my face that my father-in-law had.

But thus far we've made it work, and I hope we continue to be blessed in that fashion.

Brandy is the best women I've ever known. She's gentle and strong. Smart and kind. She has never once told me to shelf this writing thing and has total faith that I will one day make it big. And any writer worth their ink knows how much support like that really means. She makes this old troll a better person.

If you take into account the two years that we dated before we were married then I've been with this wonderful woman almost half of my life. Time really does fly when you're having a good time.

Anyway, I'm not much for sap (I'm a sappy person deep down, but the troll in me hides that fact like a bar of gold) but she deserves a bit of sap from time to time. I know when we first started out we had "our song". To my shame I can no longer remember what "our song" was.

Don't judge me! I'm sure she doesn't remember, either (he says with a pensive wince).

Anyway, back in the late 90s I listened to a little more country music than I do now. Kind of burnt myself out on it. But there was one song that always brought that lump up in my throat and it rings more true today than it ever did back then. I wish I had the talent, or at least the courage, to sing it to her myself, but the troll won't let that happen. So I'm afraid this will have to do.

Thank you Brandy Michelle for sticking with this grumpy old troll and filling half of my life with such joy.

Happy Anniversary. I love you.

Cause I'm Feeling A Bit Melancholy

I was perusing my blog roll here on the blog, just thinking about doing some house cleaning. Then I came across the one at the bottom. Three years outdated. And I just can't delete it.

I can't believe it's been three years. Jamie Eyberg was a good guy, always eager to help me out or give me a kind word. I dare say he and I were friends, even if it was a cyber friendship.

This is the last post Jamie wrote on his blog. I encourage you to go through and read the others as well. He was a talented writer and a great guy.

I just wanted to write it here one more time lest I forget.

Sammy Terry

When I was a young boy growing up in the 80s there were few things I loved more than staying up late on a Friday night to watch Sammy Terry.

Sammy Terry was, and still is, a well known local TV personality here in Indiana famous for his horror show. The movies he showcased were mostly b-rated horror films or classics from the 30s through the 50s. Sammy Terry's show is one of my most fond memories growing up. It sparked my long lasting love of horror and sci-fi.

On June 30th, Sammy Terry whose real name was Robert Carter passed away. Last year Sammy Terry performed a special show at a haunted house close to where I live. I had planned to go see him, but I missed the opportunity. I wish I hadn't.

There is no doubt that Sammy Terry was a major influence on the writer I have become today. I only wish I had taken the chance to tell him so.

Rest in Peace Mr. Carter. Thanks for all the scares.

Down To The Wire . . . Again

Well, surprise surprise.  I'm about 15 minutes away from almost missing a May blog post.  Shocking I know.

May has been an especially crazy month for me.  First, my lovely wife graduated from nursing school.  It's been a long hard road for our family, but she's a tough gal.  I'm very proud that she not only went back to school (which isn't easy once you're married with children) but that she has chosen to be a nurse.  It's a noble calling to help those in need.  She's the most caring person I know so I'm confident that she'll be a great nurse.

Second, I had a birthday.  I won't disclose my age, but let's just say I'm now closer to 40 than 30.

Third, I'm working on a new novel.  It took me a while to get started on it because I was trying to get my mind around the scope of the story.  I was originally going to go dystopian, but in the end I scrapped that idea.  It the first in a series and will feature ghosts, vampires, zombies and an assortment of other macabre characters.

I've been battling with Day Job issues, mostly in the dropping of my weekly hours from 40 to 29.  So, a new job search is in my future.  That means my writing time will most likely go down.  One of these days I hope to put this rat race behind me.  Some day I hope that my "job" will be creating worlds one word at a time.

So, on to June we go.  Who knows what is waiting for us.

Oh, Mr. Patterson. What Will You Do Next?

I'm sure by now you've all heard about James Patterson and the ad he paid for in the NYT.  About how he feels literature is swirling around the proverbial toilet bowl and how we are all destined to return to illiterate Serfs.  Though he admits he doesn't have the answer to the death of story telling he does suggest a "government bailout" may be the ticket.

There is a lot and more I could say, but I was always taught if you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all.

Many others have chimed in on the subject.  Two of my favorites are by Joe Konrath and J.E. Fishman.  I'll leave it to them, seeing as I'm still a little ticked since finding out that Mr. Patterson no longer writes his own books.