The Klondike

Where do you find inspiration for your stories? From what personal resource do you draw from to create something unique, something that can only be told by you? Or do you draw from an experience more communal, yet shared amongst but a limited group?

I watched a documentary a while back titled “The Klondike Gold Rush”. A story embedded within the story is of a woman seeking to find out about her great great uncle who had died in the mad rush of tens upon tens of thousands of fortune seekers. Her uncle had been highly spoken of amongst their family and she was driven to uncover his fate. Her trek eventually lead her to a cemetery, most of the graves unmarked, for those killed in an massive avalanche.

The hardships and demands placed on these fortune seekers, many completely unfamiliar with wilderness, were incredibly difficult to overcome. The hidden gem of the documentary is why this woman’s uncle went to the Klondike. He was an aspiring writer. He was one of many who made the journey not for fortunes in gold but for fortunes in inspiration, in stories. Some others, whose names you may recognize, include Tappan Adney, Robert Service and Jack London.

Jack London in particular was an unpublished author who quickly became the best paid and best known author in the United States. His stories were renditions of those told to him by others in the bars of the Klondike.

But inspiration can come from any aspect of one’s life if a person is willing to add some stretches of the imagination. I can list a whole stream of mundane facts, experiences over just this summer, and from them weave a tale of suspense and intrigue.

I had promised some mid-month excepts from my upcoming books. This may not really qualify but I hope you enjoy it and it spurs you on to find inspiration in everything around you.

---

A list of facts, nothing but the facts:

I was out in my yard late one night this spring, letting the dog tire, when I heard a startled voice, as if one waking from a dream. Our alley is lined with close fit homes,some known as alley houses. The start was followed by two quick thuds. A short time later there were a few flashes across some window panes. Someone taking a picture with a cell phone? Most likely the flash of distant lightning.

Why would anyone offer you their hand in greeting with goo on it? Can’t say, but after speaking over the fence with a live in guest of one of my neighbors he offered his hand. Wanting to shake in the more hip fashion of a thumb grasp I quickly grabbed his hand in a more traditional fashion. Some big spot of clear goo on his hand was smeared upon a rough part of my dirt covered hand (I had been working in the garden) rather than the porous topside. I went in and washed my hands. I saw the gentleman the next day. He looked neither friendly nor happy. The following day he had a motorcycle accident, my wife told me, that left his right hand heavily bandaged.

I like O’Doul’s; that non-alcoholic brew of Anheuser-Busch. So we bought the bottle’s at the grand opening of Meijers; one of their first stores in the area. I hadn’t bought any non-alcoholic beverages in many months. We got home and I put one in the freezer to cool it down quickly. It was all that much better because it was so cold. I had another the next day, making note that it was nearly as cold as the one I had from the freezer. I also thought that I better not be drinking these everyday or they will run out soon. Some days later I reached into the refrigerator for another and grabbed one up. About to close the door I froze. I looked at the bottle in my hand and the four on the door. Yes, …four, plus one in hand is five. We had bought six and I had already drank two. I checked with my wife. She assured me, unusual in itself as her usual response is “I can’t remember.” that I had drank two. She speculated that we had bought an eight pack. Such packages for bottles don’t exist. The empties were not in our recycling bucket so I assumed she had taken them out to the trash.

Being out late the night before, I awoke this morning to the sound of conversation outside my window. A conversation topped off with a loud statement, “Your going to be dead.” I stirred and rose from my bed and the voices dropped to mumbles as sounds of people unknown to me headed back towards the alley, passing beneath my open second floor window.

---

So, those are facts, nothing but the facts. Simple everyday occurrences that we never give a second thought. But being a student of the human condition and with the exercise of my imagination let me share a potential tale of fiction of truly dark suspense.

The Story:

***{

“He’s following us.” Frank turned , setting his hard blue eyes upon his wife as their Chevy Malibu waited at the light. The muscles in his forearms bulged  tight under thin skin as he gripped down on the wheel.

“Really.” his wife Trudy giggled back, her blonde bangs swinging above her green eyes as she looked over and back. Both were susceptible to teasing the other with suspicions of impending terror.

At the next stop sign they turned. “He’s still behind us.” Frank said, not amused, “Should I turn right to see if he follows?” They were headed to the left but a right turn would be taking them back the way they came.

“Yes.” Trudy agreed with amusement fed by a thirst for adventure “Let’s see what happens.”

Frank put on his blinker. So did the motorcyclist. “He’s still behind us.” Frank said in his own excitement driven by his wife’s eager longings for a thrill. Frank moved to the right lane. The motorcycle passed. “Now let’s follow him.” Frank smiled.

“Yes.” Trudy was outright giddy.

The motorcyclist soon turned. Frank followed in their white Malibu. The motorcycle sped up and shot away, turning into a light industrial area in the distance.

“He’s going to work.” Trudy sighed.

“Yeah. It’s about time for shifts to change.” Frank’s tone dropped subdued by his own disappointment. Still, he had to wonder. That gooey handshake a few days ago that he quickly washed off, followed by a cold greeting the next day by the same neighbor gave him the willies. Those sounds in the night that he decided useless to report to the police, a department incapable of even respond to a rape complaint for three hours, still haunted him. ‘They’d most likely admit me for reporting that.’ he had concluded. He came to the same conclusion when he reflected over his mysteriously multiplying bottles of beer.

‘Could someone be trying to kill me?’ The thought came to him as a joke but soon drew his mind to a dark and sinister place.

Without a why the idea that someone would try to kill him, even want him dead, seemed ridiculous, but was there a why? Suspicious sounds in the night couldn’t be it. They were too long past and without ramification. The sounds could suggest that someone capable of killing another without a second thought lived somewhere on his block. ‘Ridiculous’ was the conclusion he kept coming to.

‘But if someone wanted me dead? And someone in my neighborhood was a hit man or willing to be?’

It all came back to why? His brain kept churning over the impossible. He almost backed into another car as he attempted to turn around in the parking lot he had pulled into.

“That was almost twenty years ago.” Frank realized.

“What?” Trudy looked confused.

“Our trip to Brazil.”

Trudy paused. “Okay.” she brushed him off as he looked lost in thought.

Frank and Trudy had been heading for Brazil via Atlanta. An announcement came the speaker system from the pilot that they had forgotten to refuel the plane during the quick layover and would be landing in Miami. The passengers disembarked and were all treated to a meal, except for Frank and Trudy. They waited for their order as the others finished their meals. Hours passed. Finally three men approached within ten feet of their table. They stared at Frank for several moments before the taller of the three said, “That’s not the guy.” and they turned and left. The flight attendants immediately hurried everyone back onto the plane, leaving Frank and Trudy to starve for the next twelve hours until they reached their destination.

‘I was in Florida for a while.’ Frank kept thinking. He had been accused of being a felon at points in his career, something he never gave any heed to as he had never committed a felony, or even been changed let alone put on trial for one. Still accusations against his character bothered him. His response to such smears had always been the judicious purchase of a firearm, with its corresponding background checks. ‘I have built up quite an arsenal.’ Frank reflected. There was nothing more unusual than that in his life.

‘A prosecutor? A Judge?’ Could their have been some kind of mix up. some kind of malfeasance that had people’s careers and livelihood, possibly their freedom at stake. He laughed to himself again at his foolish paranoia as he pulled the Malibu into the Casino parking structure.

}***

See what one can do with a few miscellaneous facts? Well, maybe not a few. That part about forgetting to fuel the plane and all that followed are as it happened. And the purchase of firearms and why is fairly true to life. And someone from the neighborhood did follow us on his motorcycle just as described, all be it at the time most industries change over shirts.

After Frank is nearly being run down by an errant vehicle our story continues.

***{

“I’ll have an espresso.” Frank told the waitress as he sat in front of a coffee house at a small table on the sidewalk.

“I’ll be right back then.” the waitress smiled.

A multi colored umbrella shade him from the sun. Hidden behind dark plastic sunglasses, his eyes instinctively followed the dark olive legs of the young girl who who had taken his order.

His eyes, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, suddenly shot down the street. He sucked in a breath.”Who was that.” he whispered to himself. He thought he had recognized a woman, much closer to his own age, disappear around the far corner of the block, a block lined with one and two story commercial establishments of Cuban flare.

“Thank you.” Frank smiled back as the waitress placed his espresso before him, “Is there anything to read?”

“I’ll look for something.” she swung away happy to be of help.

Frank sighed. It was hot. It was humid. He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait long for the lawyer to show up. After his latest brush with death Frank had borrowed his friends old lapyop, promising to install all the updates and upgrades for him that would allow his friend to again serf the Internet. And that is exactly what Frank did, as well as take the borrowed laptop to numerous hot spots to conduct his own search of the web. He would fight money with more money. If what he felt he couldn’t afford to treat as delusions had anything to do with Florida there was much more money behind those who would find it beneficial to expose any prosecutorial malfeasance than behind those trying to protect political careers.

‘I must be crazy.’ Frank had a deep desire to just get up and head back for Milwaukee, ‘but if I’m not…’ He placed his hand on the side of his chest. feeling the steel of his latest back ground check. He casually gazed about to observe his surroundings. It had been thirty years since he had been in Florida. Exposing thirty years of convictions under a discredited judge or prosecutor could free a lot of people. A lot people who would have turned to just the type of law firm Frank had tracked down.

‘Where’s that lawyer.’ Frank whined to himself.

}***

Few facts in this last bit, but see how the story progresses under an active imagination. And there is always Google Maps if you want to be exact about the description of a coffee shop and its surrounding street anywhere in the world. Now let’s jump to the end of the story. Spoiler alert? Currently I have no plans to write anything else along this storyline so… here we go.

***{

For once Frank had finally gotten the rest he needed. He loved Korea. He felt comfortable here. He had lived here for four years in his youth. He still had friends here. Friends he had sent copies of drafts of some of his works of fiction, more as a gesture of respect than in expectation of any useful feedback. One in particular he believed would have made a great graphic novel and in the east the popularity for graphic novels was beyond what western graphic novelists could ever dream for.

“Trudy will come back.” Frank spoke to the ceiling of his hotel room as he lay in bed. The house was gone. He had burned the last of their money on this trip, what would necessarily be the last of many trips that had now spanned half the globe in his three month search for the why. “Trudy will come back.”

‘What else could it be.’ his mind having raked over every possible scenario. An innocent sharing of his work with a Korean graphic novelist turning into a surprise source of millions was his theory, though he had no facts to back it up. ‘But last Winter they kept watching me from the other side of the bar.’ he continually debated with himself. Two Koreans, speaking Korean had never approached but they had seemed fixated on him. ‘Why?’

‘Why? Why? Why? Why would anyone want me dead?’ kept running through his mind. ‘For a fortune ill gained already spent? Technically Korea recognizes our copyright laws. Money is always a motive.’

Frank hadn’t told his Korean friends, one in particular, a successful business man, that he would be arriving. He didn’t want to give them time to prepare their answers. He knew it would be difficult for them to lie to him if their was anything behind his suspicions. He also knew they would have no qualms not informing him from halfway across the world of his popularity if it meant one of their friends would suffer, or if any fellow Korean would. That is why he had to come in person. That is why he needed to see all of them face to face.

“There was that musician living on the streets of Detroit who had millions in unknown royalties in south Africa, or was it Australia.” Franks spoke to himself in the shower, trying to convince himself he had reason for his suspicions. Then there was that post he received from another of his Korean friends years back; “I think you are doing very well now.”

‘Why? It always comes back to why.’

‘Coffee, coffee, coffee.’ was all Frank could think of on his way down on the elevator. He didn’t want to go to the Hotel restaurant so he stopped by a nearby bakery on his way to the subway station, preferring to save the expense of a cab. It wasn’t that far of a walk to his friend’s place of business from the station and he wouldn’t have to switch trains.

‘I’ll be there in no time’ he smiled to himself as he headed on foot for the nearest station.

Then he saw her. He didn’t exactly recognize her though he knew he should. He had thought he had caught glimpses of this familiar yet unfamiliar figure several times, literally in every country he had visited over these last three months. Here, her strawberry blonde hair and velvet eyes, a form he found hard to describe as anything but perfect, stood out like an apple in a bowl of bananas.

The woman walked straight up to Frank. Their eyes met drawing an involuntary smile across his face.

“Hello Frank.” she smiled as she walked by.

Frank felt a prick in the side of his chest. His entire life flashed before his eyes. “Oh!” Frank gasped, just before his body dropped dead to the ground.

He knew why.

}***

Doesn’t it always come down to a woman for us men? There is quite a substantial mixture of fact in this last section. I spent quite a bit of time not in the Klondike but in Korea.

What’s that you say after all I have shared. You bet I haven’t written a word all month and I’m just trying to catch up on my word count goal with some insignificant screed of paranoia?

If that is what you think, if that is really what you think of me, you are wrong. I wrote yesterday also, about Donald Trump of all people.

If you want to share your sources of inspiration here in the comments feel free. Even stop by our home if you’d like. I can offer you a cold O’Doul’s.

---

My short stories are available for free this weekend if you have an e-reader. Click on the first book in the sidebar.

Saved by the Hammer

The end of the month rush has grown into a bad habit. It keeps returning like a dark dream one just can’t quite remember. Every cabinet or bookcase that needs leveling, every conceptual sketch of a new project in wood, every website maintenance that procrastination has kept at bay, it all pulls back to break ones resolve, but the goal must be met. All else must be abandoned. The monthly ritual is made all the more pathetic considering my new word count goal is far from significant.

A trellis project just started is on hold at least until tomorrow; August first. Do I buy new pavers? They don’t reach all the way along the raspberry patch. Or do I cannibalize those long concrete border stones from other parts of the yard, replacing the end to end pavers and repositioning them with the side to side pavers? Would they reach the other end even then? I best stay inside lest my mind be distracted, lost in the its virtual simulations of exactly how I am to get it, and the many other adventures an old run down house presents, done.

A week ago I asked myself; Is this it? Is this where I give up on my meager goals? Am I ever going to get another book out? I could blame my birthday, a bad time of year for me, but whatever the case I hadn’t written for days and had but a week to accomplish the near entirety of my new word goal for July.

I have two full books in draft form completed. I had put aside the sequel to Chuck Hammer while I wrote those two until this month. I pulled out the old notebooks on the sequel and set to work.

Yeee Haaa! The words flowed like water. “Loyalty’s Fertile Soil” the next in the Fortunes of Chuck Hammer Series is bulldozing along. I came to this last day of the month with no worries that the goal will be reached and more.

My problem right now is keeping up with the extensive list of characters as I race ahead; their descriptions, positions and place in the storyline. I will have to do some back tracking come tomorrow, to make sure I have all my ducks in a row.

I had a moment of regret this weekend. A gentleman of my acquaintance, a man who enjoyed the first Chuck Hammer asked me where the next one was. Ouch. It has been a long time since the first book. I must take solace however in the fact that over the last year I have completed two books and the sequel is steaming along. My work practices are coming in line with what it will take to be a writer. I have hit a pace that will allow me to put out two, or one very large book, every year. When I get five books published, and have the next books in the two series I am creating underway, it will be time to do some serious marketing.

I also have some more short stories forming in my immense brain. In the Lunar Colony in which the next Chuck Hammer is set, there is a story telling ritual every new moon. One of those stories is in the sequel. I am planning to create a supplemental, to the second Chuck Hammer, of short stories; the supposed results of these communal gatherings.

“Loyalty’s Fertile Soil” may grow to 200,000 words (or even more). I may put the first half out as an e-book before the second half is finished.

I also found a helpful way to keep the writing flowing. Even when the words come easy I get hung up at times. I go off and read for about fifteen minutes, check the refrigerator and sit back down and the blockage is gone.

Of course you need good reading. You read to improve your own writing. The free e-book market doesn’t always provide the highest quality, actually seldom does, of writing. Fortunately I found a source of good writing. Not without imperfections but the writing is quite good and exemplifies what the written word can do that the screen can’t.

E. R Mason is the author. I am on book two of three of the adventures of an Adrian Tarn. The third book is very reasonably priced. There’s a marketing strategy for you. The first two books are free and the third is so reasonably priced that nothing can stop you from purchasing it.

Author’s Review Page

It’s finally here, what you have all been waiting for. My author’s review page can be found in the links banner above. No longer do you need to wonder, ‘Am I wasting my one free kindle lending library book a month on this author?’ Check out my ratings and save time and grief even if you’re a Kindle Select subscriber.

A bit later than mid-month, as I had promised, but the page is up. Many more author reviews will be coming, and not just on science fiction.

Just prior to that Christmas in July Amazon Prime Day, I received the typical e-mail discount offer on pre-release kindle books that I am afforded as a member of Amazon prime. This offer included the option of choosing one of the titles for free on Amazon Prime Day. I took up the offer. I also looked for free books and found six more. I can only imagine that Kindle authors took advantage of the Amazon Prime Day to offer their work for free. looking to take advantage of a massive crowd of deal seekers.

Look forward to more reviews. I have not been writing every day this month. This is a heavy time of year for me. It was my birthday last week.

One… Two…

The garden box project is coming along.

I found this post on the four people you absolutely need in your writing life. Most people would read this article and then begin to count;  “One…” as the first finger cautiously extends.

But not me.

Sure, I’m married and one would think my wife would be my cheerleader and motivator. My wife is Japanese. She will never read a novel in English; not going to happen. My writing hasn’t brought in any significant green either so… when she watches me doing three or four different things to earn money she hardly realizes I’m still writing. There are also cultural differences where woman vary in what they believe their duty to their husbands are.

I wandered into writing and am just now trying to get up to cruising speed. In regards to the article, a mentor? Don’t see that happening in the near future. An editor, someone everyone absolutely needs. I don’t have an editor but I know where to find them. Now if I only had the money to hire one.

Create Space provides editing services. It is not too personable of a process. But I found this site somehow via Facebook; reedsy.

Another site, another service, another user ID, another password, will I completely forget about this account in a few months? Will I stay up nights wondering how many accounts and profiles I created and completely forgot about? Will they come back to haunt me, hijacked by an evil entity? We are all over subscribed on the Internet.

On reedsy you can select up to five professionals at a time and ask them for offers. You can study their profiles, choose the best editors, or cover designers, you feel may meet your needs, send them a request and ask for a quote. You can grill these professionals on whether they use software or do it the old fashioned way. (There are several editing software programs/services available) All the professionals on reedsy appear to be of significant experience and though the site is based in England, there are plenty of American professionals from across the country listed.

The reedsy site will charge 10% for any contract their site facilitates. I would hope that fee goes down as their membership grows. They are a site under construction. They have a clear layout of their services but the web site hasn’t been fully developed to provide all they dream of. In the future you will be able to do your writing, if you desire, right on the site; ‘in the cloud’ as they say these days.

I am pleasantly surprised by reedsy so far and am glad I created an account. I hope that doesn’t change. I am also making more use of Goodreads.

I am not far along in the editing of my two recently completed works, but work on the first draft of “Loyalty’s Fertile Soil” the next in the Chuck Hammer series is gliding right along. I am developing step by step a clear schedule to increase productivity.

I read a lot, under the suggestion that it improves one’s own writing. I search the self-published free via Amazon Prime science fiction market. I have been disappointed with much of what I have read. This month of June however, I hope I have found a good series to follow along with another series I have previously mentioned. (Ryk Brown has gone back to Amazon as his exclusive handler)

The Odyssey One series by Even C. Currie is the new series I will be trying to follow. My review on Goodreads. As it was the author’s first work and based on my own writing experience I am in great expectation that his writing will improve greatly. Also, something I didn’t mention in my review, he alludes to the religious element of mankind’s background which interests me greatly. I am looking forward to see where he goes with it.

There is a problem with a whole lot of under par self-published writing out there. The reviews tell you little to nothing and are of questionable origin. Therefore I will create a page on this blog in which I will review authors, not any individual work. I will focus on the free e-book market (Amazon Prime/Kindle select). Here will be my rating system:

  Author; enough said.

       Writer; has it all in order, professional editing but may not be the most profound thinker. Must show depth in some areas.

            Story Teller; great stories, not completely there in editing and/or storyline but shows potential. Generally worth the read if your tolerance levels for imperfections are medium to high.

                 Wanna Be; Has good ideas, can put together a general acceptable storyline but hasn’t taken it to the next level. Implies potential lost for lack of professional input.

                      Hack; looking to make a quick buck, lacks originality in storyline, poor character development and devoid of professional input, but somehow I had to read to the end.

                      Hack from the Depths of Hell; I couldn’t keep reading and that is almost impossible for me.

As far as the paid market turn to what’s in your local bookstore as a quality control tool. I saw the salvation of the bookstore last week at Barnes and Noble. They are selling vinyl with their books. That would be records, 33’s, albums, the way people used to buy music. Consolidation of low tech systems under one roof, I hope it works.

I will have my author review page up by mid-July.

Review, Review, Review

Adjacent is a project on hold, as the end of the month word count goal is rushing in upon me.
“Again?” you exclaim, “What’s wrong with you?”

I know, but every month it is something. May was lawn and garden demands, the busiest weekend of the year for our business and an automobile disaster. The Memorial Day weekend coincided with my mother’s birthday, a big one, and a first Communion gathering followed by a brunch designed to knock me off my diet topped off some of what kept me from writing more every day.

Waffles and fried chicken, and more bacon and sausage than anyone could imagine eating. Fried potatoes and scrambled eggs kept it all company. A sample of what heaven must taste like.

Finished, again, two drafts, “Partisans of the Blue: The Dauntless Recruits” and “Life on the Farm”, the latter a story with hints of “Sleepless in Seattle”. Maybe. I can see it but…

What have I come to realize this last month?

That typing out my second draft on an old style typewriter idea; not happening. You can’t wait until your first draft is finished. Typewriters are too slow. Of course my typing improves as I go, only getting faster, but it still goes too slow. With my current experience, with what I was hoping to accomplish by typing my work out, you can’t trail your first draft by more than 10,000 words to make this tactic effective for a first refinement; not an edit. I wont elaborating further.

Another realization, I will never publish a book without hiring an editor. There is too much at risk. Okay, if I was working on one single great lifetime work I was going to spend ten years writing, maybe. But then again, considering the scope of the effort, no. My skills and knowledge of grammar and the other aspects of writing expand daily at a rapid rate. I owe that to a sound education as a child, even if my grades were not always the greatest. Still it would simply be a disservice to my readers, of whom I am humbled to think of going out of their way to read my books, not to put the best product forward as possible. This is not a conclusion from only my own writing experience, but also from what I have been reading by other self-published authors.

Dependent upon Amazon Prime for free books to read, most of which appear to be self-published, I have found too many books too poorly written. Which translates; self-edited. Having a propensity for science fiction I count myself fortunate to have found early on Ryk Brown’s books. Self-published, he is head and shoulders above what I’ve read otherwise in the self-published science fiction genre. The issues with Ryk Brown’s books are there but are soooo minor compared to what I’m reading now. The difference being of course the hiring of editors, who Ryk Brown refers to as independent contractors.

Examples of the shortcomings of this writer’s want-a-be free for all, AKA self-publishing, are many. The book I am reading now: Why are the most complex and difficult to understand sentence structures (don’t get me started on how they organize a paragraph) in the beginning of the story? It’s not just this most recent author I am reading, but several other authors I have read. Is this by design, so we don’t think so badly of the rest of the book as it becomes marginally better written?

And what’s with the formula? Man has expanded across the galaxy. There is a mysterious alien race of unknown origins threatening (thank you Ryk Brown for writing science fiction without alien races). A ghost ship of legend appears and the race begins. Add a borderline mad genius with some uncanny instinct about said ship of whose location is yet to be determined, a damaged crew with troubled but somehow superior personalities working together to find said person of genius and ghost ship, take control of ghost ship and save the universe. Maybe they all took the same creative writing course. I just described to you about 20% of all self published science fiction in part or whole.

Add ingredients to bag and shake well.

And the reviews!!!! They call these stories ‘space operas’ for reasons I fail to comprehend. I have yet to read of anyone singing, though the Characters in “Chuck Hammer, A Vendetta’s Wage” have been known to sing a song or two. (that would be my book) The number of reviews range from twenty to just short of one-thousand. There is always one thrown in complaining about the pricing. Which reviews are sincere and which are paid for. Hard to tell, even the bad reviews, one star, express intrigue with the story. They consistently rank just over four stars.

My shortcoming is that I can’t stop reading these space operas.

Many reviewers complain about the lack of good editing in self-published works. That isn’t good for the cause. I myself am beginning to think that I need to payout the little money we have for e-books if I want to experience any good writing.

You can read my reviews on Amazon here. I write reviews under the moniker Leonid480.

In this quest for service, Create Space, part of Amazon, as well as other publishing sites provide services, including editing, that you can purchase. There are also organizations such as ‘Reedsy’ where authors and service providers can network. One more dimension of self-publishing; networking.

I contemplated attending a writer’s conference in Indiana for some face to face (the antithesis of Facebook) networking, something I consider better for one’s sense of well being. Our vehicle troubles, and the associated costs, have axed those dreams.

It is becoming clear that if I do not create schedule and stick too it, tasks such as networking and marketing, on the Internet or otherwise, will not be gotten to. It is perfectly clear that I will not get any books out in a timely fashion without the help of editors. (I started this post yesterday and since then I have started another story line in “Partisan of the Blue”. Editors help eliminate the unnecessary and point out gaps that need to be filled: types of editors.)

Goals for June: Create a schedule and stick too it. Time set aside to develop a network the priority. Get both current works onto the computer, complete. Then review, review, review before choosing an editor/s.

Thank you for following my progress.

No associated links constitute an endorsement by me.