Witnessing History

I had the honor this weekend of meeting my wife's uncle, Donald Murray, for the second time since we've been together. That will be 22 years on the 23rd of August, that we've been married, 25 years that my wife and I have known one another. The first time I met him we never really got a chance to talk since he had a house full of relatives and he was busy entertaining. This time there were only a few of us, my wife, her brother, his wife, and their oldest son.  On their last few trips to visit Don I was unable to go along due to work or previous commitments.

At 84 he's slowing down a bit, a littler hard of hearing,  and his eyesight isn't what it used to be. But he's on my friends list on facebook, and obviously follows my posts. He met us at the door when we arrived. I went in last and he stopped me, his handshake still firm as he maintained his grip on my hand.
"I don't understand your last post," he said, "are you an author?"
I nodded yes and explained that I had several works published and available. He was duly impressed and expressed an interest in talking to me further about my work.

Reprisal

It's here.

My novella, Reprisal: Vengeance knows no boundary,  is now available from Amazon.

Synopsis:

Revenge is a dish best served cold, and what could be colder than the chill from beyond the grave?

On the surface her plan was brilliant in its simplicity. Return home, take the place of her twin sister, and live out the rest of her life in relative peace. Unfortunately even the best laid plans had their flaws and this one involved Margaret’s alter ego Candice, who was hell bent on leaving a bloody trail in her wake. But not even Candice had planned for one simple fact.

The dead always got their revenge.






Word Counts and Distractions.

Did you ever see that movie UP? The animated cartoon about an old man determined to move his house with balloons. There was a dog in that movie named Dug who had a short attention span. He wore a specially designed collar that allowed him to speak. At some point during every conversation he would suddenly look to the side and shout. Squirrel!


While hilarious the first time I saw it, and still funny during subsequent viewings, it reminded me of a little problem I have with my writing.

In Rememberance

On Monday May 27, 2013, my mom passed away. She went home to be at my father's side. While saddened by the loss, the strongest emotion I've experienced is one of relief that her suffering has come to an end. I believe it helps that, unlike with my father,  I was a thousand miles away when he passed, I visited my mother the day before she died. She told me then she was dying. We talked about it, and before I left I held her hand and told her that I loved her. Something I never got the chance to do with my dad.

I've spent the past week reconnecting with family, sharing the memories of her life, and of all of us growing up together. She grew up with five sisters and three brothers. At this time one brother and four sisters remain.

One memory has risen to the surface and become fixed in my mind.