New Face to my website

Hey,

I just can't say enough about an old friend of mine that's kicked it up a notch and did it for me. Art Hadley and I have known each other since I think it was kindergarten. That's a long, long time and it also says exactly how old I am so I'm not going to give that away but I will say I'm old as hell. I don't know what Art would say about his age.
Suffice to say though I think some of us get better with age and he's one of them. He just put a new face to my web site and not only did he kick it up a notch he kicked ass. www.DayoftheDogs.com. I'll be posting the actual web address later this week so you can just click it and get right to it. You need to take a look and see what he's done. Grace and I just stared at it with our jaws on the floor. It was amazing work. I'm hoping that he'll do more for me soon.

Talk later,
Bob

Something New

Hey,

Just wanted everyone to know that there's a new face to my website, Day of the Dogs.com coming. A very good friend of mine, Art Hadley, that I've know ever since Kindergarten at OLGC in Kansas City, has produced some real magic that he e-mailed me yesterday and to tell the truth both Grace and I had our jaws drop in awe when we saw it. It was and is absolutely amazing. He's a true artist.
Also I was out having a morning smoke walking along the sidewalk of 44th doing my morning pacing and seeing if snow needed to be shoveled and watching the dogs as they ran around trying to find a place to relieve themselves and the first few lines of my next book of Jena and Ross came to me. I think it's kick ass but what do I know. I just hope everyone that reads it thinks the same. Grace laughed at it so it has got some merit.

Talk soon,
Bob

Torn

Hey,

As I said in my last blog I just finished a five hundred page or there about book. Another action adventure and even a little love story to boot. Now comes the time when I'm torn. I want to write the next one in the sequence but at the same time I've got all these others that are gathering dust and I need to edit them and get them on my site. Editing is not letting the creative juices flow and by the time I'm finished I'm all juiced out for a while. But I guess the work must go on. Ah hell I'm going to get a cup of coffee and start the next sequence.

Talk soon,
Bob

Finally

Hey,

I'm not sure that anyone reads this yet, but I'm back. I've had an awful time with my computer again. It's old like me and cantankerous like me. Sometimes I don't want to work and neither does it. I don't usually drop out for a month but I guess ole Betsy here needed the rest or at least the wireless card inside her.
She did let me write though and I finished another shot-em-up adventure. Jena Freeman and Ross Weiner made it through about 500 pages without getting... Whoops I almost gave it away. One thing I can say is that Ross get's shot in the ass more than once and Jena has about as much sympathy as a frog.
I'll post some of the book on the web site this week sometime so you can get a sample. It'll be about another couple of months before I have another one ready, hopefully sooner.

Talk soon,
Bob

Jena and Ross

Hey,

I think I'm officially writing again because the characters are taking over my thoughts and why I write. These things need to be said for the most part because there is someone out there that wants to say them and can't. That's part of the responsibility of an author. Say the things that need to be said for the people that can't say them loud and long enough for anyone to hear them. I'm not sure I'll be able to say them loud enough but I will say them long enough. I hope that it helps take the hurt away just a little. You'll know that at least I understand and I think it's important that at least one of us knows.

Thanks and we'll talk soon,

Bob

My muse and me

Hey,

I can't believe my luck. First I find a great muse from years gone by when she finds me on face book. That's just a hoot. Second I'm finally finished with my last novel and third I got started writing again. My life was almost complete with my first muse Grace which I'm married to and live with and then I'm sitting up here on the third floor and I can look out and see Lake Superior and now my new muse can't wait to read what I've written and wants to help in creating the Jena character. What more could a human being want or need.

I'm thanking God or the Gods or whoever is around up there.

Bob

Working Title "Murphy's Law"

Hey,

Well it looks like I'm finally going to get started on my next novel. I'm sure the title is going to change and probably many times before it's over but it's a start and my computer knows which one to bring up when I ask so it's all good for right now.
Jenna and Ross are going to to be my best characters yet (I hope). Ross is a stud muffin and she's a semi tramp but she can't mix business and pleasure if she wants to keep her job. Makes for some lonely, frustrating nights for her. I want things turned around a bit.

Talk soon,

Bob

Done Really done finally

Hey,

Okay not quite but I'm close enough that I can smell the end. It's amazing how my fingers can just fly across this keyboard like they know exactly what they're doing and then it's time to look at what wasn't auto-corrected. After the first hundred or so pages all of a sudden I guess I don't type real fast at least accurately. But going through it is good because even the spell check is wrong a lot.
All that needs to be done is create a PDF file of it and I think it's on it's way to my e-book site. God that was a long one. Ended up at 634 pages and a 105,000 words. "The Friday Night Dance Club" is at least my longest to date. I'm going to start a new one after I give my fingers a well deserved rest.

Talk soon,

Bob

Done

Hey,

Okay that was a long one and I just want to go to sleep and wake up some time next week. "The Friday Night Dance Club" ended up around 600 pages. It was a long one and I almost scrapped the whole thing when I first started reading it and then as I edited and edited and took stuff out and put stuff in it started to make sense.
I want everyone to understand why I wrote the book and that it took a lot of doing on my part to figure it out but as I was talking to a friend the other day it was one of those dawning experiences.
I'm very troubled about all the violence and mayhem that goes on not only around the world but in our back yards too. It seems as certain people don't care how they screw up other peoples lives. It's just about them and that's it. They go around not caring what they do to people.
Take burglary for instance. Yeah they just take things and that's it. We can replace them and we all say that at least no one got hurt. That's not true. That person goes to bed every night for months or years feeling violated and out of control. They don't sleep well, they wake up tired and this goes on and on. They're scared not only for themselves but for their family. They wake to a reality that even they are not safe. That they had been kidding themselves forever.
I could go on and on but it would become redundant at best. Everyone knows the extent that people are hurt mentally and spiritually but we try our best to downsize it hoping that if we make it small enough it will go away. IT never does no matter how small we make it.
I wanted to write books that took our lives back. Out of nowhere people rise to the occasion and stop the crap and most importantly they move into the real rules of the game. Not ours but the rules the bad people play with. And even more important than that is that the good people tear the creeps apart and kill them not leaving any of them alive. Going through the slaughter and finishing off the wounded with out a care in the world. Yes they are the judge, jury and executioners.
Yes these people are made into vigilantes but the bad guys have only themselves to blame because they just flat pissed these people off. Maybe someday we'll all get our revenge for having our minds, bodies and spirits taken from us. I hope so and I hope I'm the one that does it. I'm finally getting old enough that prison doesn't scare me much anymore.
Did I just write all of this? Yeah, I guess so.

Talk soon
Bob

Editing

Hey,

I don't know about anyone else but if I ever get through with this editing I'm going to throw myself a party and get drunk. I don't remember it ever being this hard before but then again I'm old and I don't remember things like I used to. God has saved me from a fate worse than death I guess. It seems though that if I was a female that I'd never have more than one kid because there would be no way I'd put myself through that kind of pain again. But alas it happens all the time. It seems that women forget and carry on with the race of human kind.
I'd be carrying a big stick and if a man looked at me cross eyed I'd hit him in the crotch hoping that would give some idea of what I had been through. Then if he wanted to play with fire I might let him but whoa unto the man that tried without a painful entrance.
How in the hell did I get on that. I worry that God gave me a mind that doesn't make much sense at times. Well I just thought I'd check in and let everyone know that I'm not dead and I'm working hard to get more books on line.

Talk soon,
Bob

OMG

Hey,

That's right OMG. I hope I'm putting that down right. It looks as though the computer geek has done it. Not only can you buy the hard copy of my first book "Day of the Dogs" but you can even get it as an e-book for $5.00. What a damn deal that is. You can't buy a hamburger for that around here unless it's at McDonald's dollar meal and you know what you'll get there.
Just think the book will give you hours and hours of enjoyment while the burger is long gone. Oh well just trying a sell job on everyone. I really do hope everyone that reads it has a good time. Hopefully I can take you away from your world and set you in another and give you some time away from your worries.
That's what I look forward to the most when I'm reading. Going away for a while not having to think about what little troubles I do have. Of Course between writing and reading I don't have much time to think about my troubles anyway. "It's a good thing" as Martha Stewart would say.
Hope you enjoy.

Talk soon,
Bob

Right Brain activity

Hey,

Okay I can't go all the way and stop all of the left brain activity because of the editing but I can add to the right brain. I'm going to start on my next cover for "The Friday Night Poker Club". It should be a hoot seeing me do something that creative. Okay maybe not a hoot but at least something scary. If it's not that bad I might even post it but don't get your hopes up. Got to get to work.

Talk soon,
Bob

Brain Tissue

Hey,

I think my brain is in retreat or should I say rebellion. This editing is driving me crazy and maybe one of these days it will end and I'll get back to what I love doing. Writing. One of these days I hope to turn this job over to someone that loves editing as much as I love writing. We would be a pair.
I hope everyone gets to do what they love at least most of the time. It would be a shame if you didn't.

Talk soon,
Bob

Drunk Horse

Hey,

Okay everyone I've decided that the drunk horse is going to be Jena's. That's where Ross is going to stay while he's in Witness Protection. I just thought everyone should know that while I might not be writing these days that doesn't mean that I don't think about my next novel all the time. I do. I write all of these things in a notebook and let them wander around in my head looking for the right place to settle and in a few weeks I'll be able to sit down and write the book in a few weeks, maybe sooner. Depending on my brain tissue working right. If not I'll set it aside and go back to editing.
I don't know whether this happens to any one else but when my brain is on the jizz I can't stop it and there's no such thing as time. I usually don't eat and the only reason I get up is to go to the bathroom and fall fast asleep or at least get enough rest to go after it again.
It's the only time I have that I'm not encumbered by the reality of the world. It's the safest place I've ever been and the most sacred. People talk about Shangra La and where it might be but I can tell you exactly where it is. When you find your true passion and time can't affect you and no matter what your reality is, it doesn't matter, then you're in Shangra La, Nirvana, Heaven, whatever you want to call it.
I hope and pray that everyone gets there at least once in their lives. It's the most perfect place you can travel to.

Talk soon,
Bob

Dear Wanda

I'm finally starting to feel like I'm amongst the living again. I'm sorry that I haven't been writing like I should but damn it all to hell, this getting old is for the birds. I'm getting back into the swing of things again. The black cloud seems to be fading.
Yea for sex, drugs and rock and roll and yes beer. In fact talking about beer my son-in-law and I just got through making a batch of our own ale from scratch. We'll be bottling it this weekend after five weeks of drooling in our water. Anymore I'd rather just get the drunk on with Southern Comfort and Seven Up but my son-in-law is crazy about different beers and someday wants to open his own brewery. I have my doubts that he'll get it done but who knows. No one thought I'd write books either.
One of the reasons I mention the booze is that when I broke and trained horses I got a hold of a stallion that hated me. Of course he hated everyone I think. Okay why did I have a stallion. Well Grace divorced me and I was lonely for company. So I bought a stallion and a mare. The stallion wanted nothing to do with me unless it was to take a chunk of meat off my body. I spent three months going up to the corral or stall and would try and softly pet him. He'd let me stoke him once then he'd try to bite me. I don't know whether you know but for a horse to try and bite means he hates you with a passion. I don't even know why he hated me. For Christ's sake I got him a mare to fool around with and fed and watered him. Hell I cleaned his shit out of his stall which I would have to lock him out of just to get the job done.
Well anyway. I spent months just going up to him and trying to pet him. He'd try and bite I'd move back and then try it again. I'd spend hours doing this. After about three months or so I came out one night for the third time that day to spend some time with him trying to pet him but this time I had a drink in my hand. Southern Comfort and Seven Up. I kept trying to pet him but about the third time he was different. His nostrils flared and he seemed to calm down. I went to pet him again and I noticed him eying the drink and not paying much attention to the fact that I was petting him. He kept sniffing my drink so I gave him a taste. He took to me lifting the glass right away. He loved the shit. I went in and got another drink since he drank all of my tumbler himself. I went back out and he drank that too. Jesus I had a lush on my hands.
Within a couple of days this boy was my best friend. He loved the booze so he and I would sit and drink our troubles away every night. He'd sop up a half a quart of the stuff. I kept making it stronger but the stronger it was the better he liked it. He'd drink enough (and so would I) that he and I would stumble around the damn corral together. He'd do anything for a drink. I taught him to shake hands and rear up when told. I could climb all over him. I didn't have any trouble putting a bridle and saddle on him or riding him. No one else could but he and I were the proverbial drinking buddies.
All of that to tell you that this scenario will be in the book. I haven't decided whether it will be Jena, although I think it should be but it could be Ross. I'm not sure yet. He did like the seventies rock and roll while he was drinking. And he had plenty of sex with the mare too so he was in heaven at least for a few years, just like us I guess. It was really pretty funny when he'd get a little touched with the booze and his head would start waving back and forth. He had a song in his head I know.
Okay, I've caught up now so think hard and anything funny and maybe take some Ginko Beloba to remember back when. I like the direction thing. I'm sure I'll be able to use that.

For the birds

Hey,

Yeah, this is for the birds. Bad computer, abscessed tooth, now a frigging cold. How much more can a man take. It seems sometimes that the old man upstairs just beats you up and then expects great things from you while your sick and tired and mangled. He really has got a rotten sense of humor. Don't you wish there was some way to to turn the joke around just once.
I'll get back to speed soon.

Talk soon,
Bob

Early in the morning

Hey,

Okay last week I had an abscessed tooth and the week before that, my hard drive crashed. It has put such a kink in my schedule and I liked my schedule. I like habit. It makes things easier. My dad once told me that I should have 30 percent of my life habitual so that I didn't have to think about what I was doing. It made sense I guess but I still had to watch what I shaved. Now that I think about it dad did always have a lot of small pieces of tissue paper on his face. Maybe I'll rethink that one.

Talk soon,
Bob

My Muse

My muse is getting better and better all the time. She is giving me stuff from her life that will create a great character in my next novel I will be writing soon. Look for it sometime next spring or summer. I think what I'll do while I'm writing the book I'll put passages on my blog not about the plot but about the characters that develop. They're probably more important than the plot anyway. Besides whatever may be the most important has nothing to do with what I love and I love my characters. Even the bad guys and gals are wonderful to write about.
When these guys come out of nowhere and they're in my head and keep banging on the inside of my skull to get out now that's a character you can't refuse. Dr. Bob of course I'm the closest too. He's my alter ego but Bob Stewart, Scanlon, Stricland, Detective Stephan Von De Cruz may have been my best although Gerald Kline was right up there and he was bad guy. Damion and his brother weren't bad. Bunch of nasty people those guys. Wouldn't want to even sit down and have dinner across a table with them. Sid was the perfect gentleman and organizer of all that was good. He took care of everything. You'll understand when you read "The Friday Night Dance Club" although he'll be in the third book of the "The Friday Night Poker Club" trilogy.
Now if I can just get someone to do this damn editing. Of course if someone was going to hire me to do it they couldn't pay me enough.

Talk soon,
Bob

Computers

God this has been the week from hell, kind of. My computer crashed and although most of my writing was recovered I had to use another laptop and a different program and to tell the truth I might as well sat around and twiddled my thumbs for all the good it did me. It took me that long to get used to the new program. Dan the computer man said I'd love the program. Well maybe after a week of screwing up everything and finally getting it right but in that mean time Holy God Almighty. I wanted to scream and throw the damn thing against the wall. I was sure that the computer wasn't reading my key strokes and as it turned out it wasn't because the key pad had to be stroked a little harder than this one and invariably anything hit with my little fingers didn't get the key all the way down. I was hitting the backspace key more that any other key.
Okay that's enough bitching, I need to get back to work.

Talk soon
Bob

More cool Stuff

Hey,

Jena is shaping up nicely. She is so different than my first muse. Gracie was my first and you'll see her in "Day of the Dogs" "The Friday Night Poker Club" and a few others. The gal will always be tall, blue eyed, dark hair and gorgeous. That's my Gracie.
Jena is five foot on good day in heels. She's little and mean. She been through so much in the first part of her life she up and changed. She learned how to hurt people physically and use her small size to do it. She is as fast with her wit as she is with a punch to the groin. She leaves no enemy standing and has a badge on her tit so she stays out of jail. She doesn't care if it's the tit or the badge.
The bad guys will be fooled by her sweet smile and sexy aura and the way she struts her stuff. She's got the stuff and she uses it to her advantage but never where it might really count.

Talk soon,
Bob

Jena

Hey,

I just wanted everyone to know that I've found that my muse is going to be the perfect protagonist for my next novel. Physically she's right and mentally perfect to take Ross on his cross country Murphy's law tour. She's got a past that will light up the pages and give images from heart aches to laughter. She's the one I think that I can write a bunch of novels with. Can't wait to get started. This damn editing is killing me.

Talk soon,
Bob

The Three C's

Hey There,

I was reading another one of James Patterson's Alex Cross novels and came across a very interesting conversation between Alex Cross and Jamilla Hughes. She was talking about a man she didn't like and that he was one of many men that practiced the three C's. Compete, Criticize and Control. My God have I met these guys and women in my life. I never was able to put it in such concise terms to make it so understandable and available to see. But WOW what an mind boggling piece of shit to deal with. I hope for every-bodies sake that if they're around that type of person that they can move on. Life isn't long enough to put up with that kind of shit. I'm sorry to be so crazed by this but I am.
I'll talk more about the novels next time and let this crap go.

Talk soon,
Bob

Love it when a plan comes together

Hey,

Okay it's not all together yet but I see it coming together in my minds eye. You know that third eye that creates the things around you. Yeah there's Ross and Wanda but I'm not sure yet whether I'm going to use her real name. I may have to change it especially when she reads the first writing. Ah but that's what Word is all about. A couple of keys to stroke, put in a new name and voila. I keep learning new stuff all the time.

Talk soon
Bob

Told me not to.

Hey,
She told me not to write about her and I from a long time ago. I won't, besides not much to tell but what there is to tell are some real funny stories. The most interesting part of all of this is that she found me on face book and we hadn't seen or talked to one another since 1989. 21 years ago. Yeah I know you can count, that was for me. Damn how time flies. She's my cuz and what a cousin she is. One of the greatest ladies I know. And besides it's flooded me with all sorts of emotions that I can't really describe except that I know she's going to me my muse here for the next few novels I write. I love it. I just hope I don't piss her off with all my ranting. I love you Wanda no matter what I put in my novels. Hope you have fun with it.

Talk soon,
Bob

What a wonderful world

I think Jimmy Stewart would be having the time of his life now with all the new gadgets out on the Internet. I know I am with blogging and face book and the fact that I get to not only write novels but blogs and e-mails back to people I've known over the years.
I just was found by my cousin Wanda. She was a major highlight of my life way back when. This dates me so bad. It was at least 40 years ago that she and I went on a double date where she ended up spilling beer on the guy I had fixed her up with. Dave was not at all pleased with the result of the date. Of course while I was talking to him I was astounded by the bad behavior of my cousin. She had embarrassed me totally. Not really and God did she and I laugh at his expense. I feel bad but I still laugh at her antics. What a girl.
She was also a patient of mine while I did my thirty as a chiropractor. She had it tough for a while but she was one of the ones that taught me how to be tough in the face of extreme obstacles. The whole doctor patient thing doesn't lend to explaining any details but I can surely say that pound for pound that little girl was tough enough to survive the worst.
I admire anyone that had the odds stacked against them and then comes out the other side a better person. She was one of them. One tough bitch that my hat is off for and wanting to know more about the rest of her life. I hope she tells me as time goes on. I know there's a novel based on her brewing in this beady little brain of mine.

Talk soon,
Bob

Meeting of the Minds

Okay now I'm on the road. Traveling with my computer. I'm about 20 blocks away. Aren't I daring. And besides I'm here with the computer whiz just in case something goes wrong. God I'm free at last yes I'm free at last. Now all I need is to find a battery so that I could really be free. Then just think of all the havoc I produce. Walking and typing or typing and walking. What so you mean I can't do that. Yes I can because I built this special shoulder contraption that makes a desk right in front of me so I can type, chew gun and write too. Maybe I'm in a manic phase right now, I'm not sure but when I built that shoulder harness all I had to do was tear up my daughters baby carrying device. She was only a little mad especially since I told her that I'd give her part of the royalties from the greatest invention known to man. Okay I'll shut up and go away for today but look for me soon.

Talk soon
Bob

Just Another Morning

Yeah Right,

There's no such thing as just another morning. When you're as old as I am and you wake up again it's a novel happenstance that most of the time I never regret.
I've got my next novel in mind but I just have to keep editing or my wife is going to beat me over the head and that will cause this to be just another day. So off to work I go but this character that keeps fighting inside that neuron in my head will not be denied. His name is Ross and Murphys Law will more than apply to his life. I can tell you this much. He gets in a car wreck before he gets out of town.
I know that doesn't sound much like a hook or a teaser but it's everything to the book. And besides the best thing about it is that I didn't even know he was going to have a wreck. He just did and it puts him into an even greater downhill spin. It will be funny and maybe believable but I doubt it.

Talk soon,
Bob

Crucial but slow

For those of you that don't write I have another tidbit of information that may make sure you never do. Of course if you're a real writer and you have to do it no matter what, then this won't matter, either because you never intend to publish your work or because you want it published so bad that it doesn't make any difference the kind of pain you have to go through to make it happen.
Editing. Oh god I pray that one day I have enough money that I can pay someone to sift through all my crap that I write and make some sense out of it instead of me. I want so bad to start on my next novel. Ross is calling me to the written page. He keeps yelling at me in my head asking "When? you wasted human flesh. Stop that silly crap and get on with my life. I'm sitting in this neuron waiting and all you can do is make sure the damn comma is right. Holy God Almighty Stop!!!"
But I can't. It's part of the process of the pain it takes to make your soul suffer enough to write the Pulitzer or at least something that everyone will love to read. Damn I've got to get back to work. I have 15 novels waiting for me to edit and then there's Ross in my head. Actually he needs to shut up because the amount of crap that he's going to go through just to stay alive is mesmerizing.
Did you hear that idiot.

Talk soon.
Bob

The Time to Write

I was just in the Writers Den and basically the point is to shut up and write. So here I am writing. The only time I get to sit and write without either the cats or the grand-kids or my Gracie or the other hundred interruptions that heckle my life every day is early in the mornings like this when everyone else is asleep, even the cats. Don't get me wrong I have to feed the little bastards first before they leave me alone to my thoughts for an hour.
I'm going to start my next novel soon and as I said in the Writers Den all I do is grab a character out of my head and let him or her take over the book. This next one I think is going to be Ross Miller. A man like Jobe that has lost everything and the universe is still trying to kick his ass all over the place. We'll see what he does with the story.

Talk soon,

My new website

I wanted to tell anyone and everyone that my website is up now and I think you can even buy my e-book "Day of the Dogs". I really hope that there's someone listening and reading out there. It's cheap and easy and I can't wait for my book to become the best seller of all time. Ha. Well maybe, stranger things have happened. I really want to thank Dan Ribell for all the computer work he's done so far and all the work that there's left to do.
I hope you like my writing style because I've got so many novels set to go online. It seems maybe that I'll get one on about every three months or less depending on how fast I can transcribe and edit all those novels sitting around gathering dust. I'm excited to hear the comments both bad and good. It's subjective and I know I won't please everyone but everyone that's read any of my works so far have all said nothing but good things.
Of course I'm not so foolish to think that they all like it because it's tough to look a person in the eye and tell him he's full of crap. Well unless you don't like the person. I think or at least hope people at least like me.
Again look for my book at www.DayoftheDogs.com

Talk soon.

Back again

Hey,

I haven't been blogging much since I got this little building job. It was taking up virtually every minute of the day either working on it or thinking through the process. The one special thing about my high school days was that the Christian Brothers taught me one thing. How to think. There was a lot of money given to them for me to learn that simple concept but it was worth every penny. I think I can do just about anything (within reason). And it's because of that simple statement.
I've met a few that didn't understand the concept. Actually I felt an empathy for them in that I was one of them before the aluminum rod was thrashed across my ass until I had no other choice. I'll tell that story someday.
Alas I'm done with the job and I'm back to work writing. I shouldn't call it work though since this is one of the loves of my life.

Talk soon.

Patterson vs Me

I've been reading Patterson's books of Alex Cross and his detective work both as a DC cop and now an FBI agent. There's a couple of things that really stand out in his work for me at least. One is that I can hear Morgan Freeman talking in my head when Alex is on the jizz and two is how well Patterson creates the relationship Alex has with his kids and Nana Mama. I hope and I try like hell in my writings to do the same thing. The personal relationships and their clarity and significance is important to me.
I can remember in my first novel "Day or the Dogs" the best relationship in clarity and significance was that between Dr. Bob and his father. His father was probably the furthest from a main character but that's probably the most talked about by my readers.

S&S

Okay I'm going to start with S&S and stay with them today. Stricland was the first person for me to meet in the last two novels I've written. He was pretty much an ass when I first met him. All introverted and barely able to speak to anyone or maybe he didn't like speaking to anyone or maybe he just didn't like anyone so he didn't speak to them. He is a great detective and didn't like all the unnecessary talking. He was in his head all the time. He didn't need someone messing up his thought patterns with crap. He had gone through partner after partner that couldn't stand the quiet that he left them in all the time. He'd go about solving the murder cases by himself doing all the work at the murder board in his head and even doing the paper work at the end.
Captain Rod, a big burly man that has a temper at the drop of the hat, finally brought in Scanlon. A beautiful woman from vice that needed a change after years on the street trying to find the killer of her husband. She saw right through Stricland and went about giving him a dose of his same medicine which he fell in love with. She didn't like him, of course, in the beginning but got the hang of it quickly and spoke less than he did. Drove him crazy. Hence they fell in love.
They couldn't work together and have a romantic liaison so they went to the Captain and told him they were quiting but they'd stay on as consultants. It's worked so far and they have a great time catching killers and being shot at and saving lives.
They have some odd quirks but don't we all.

Tell more soon.

Bob

The Story

I told you I'd tell you more about Stricland and Scanlon. Fondly I refer to them as S&S. That wasn't planned, oops maybe I should let you all know that I plan everything meticulously? Well I don't. Once a character starts, the story and the character take over along with all the planning. Somewhere in the deep synapses of my brain (my wife calls them cobwebs) the story line, happenstances and characters fall into place all by themselves. I haven't written a book yet that I knew what was going to happen. Thinking about it that's probably the reason why I love to write. The same reason why anyone reads. You want to go somewhere you've never been and you want to find out how it all ends.
I'll get to S&S soon. Like I said the story takes over.

My wife, what a wonderful critique

My wife finished my last novel and asked me whether it was good having Stricland and Scanlon solve so many murders in one book? "Doesn't everyone write about just one?"
I had to tell her the truth. My guys are better than the rest. She laughed at me. So I laughed back at her.
"What are you thinking? Better than Harry Bosch or Alex Cross?
"Yeah." Was my immediate and somber reply.
"God you suck."
With that retort I had to explain my theory. (I don't think she was listening but I love to talk too). Most cops aren't dumb and most killers are that smart. Serial killers get away with murders because of two reasons. No rhyme or reason and they travel outside a typical murder zone of most. Now I should say no "rhyme or reason" to the average human being.
With that explanation she still told me I sucked and I said "Right back at you".
How was that for a come back? I think it's time we gave due where due belongs and most detectives have a good head on their shoulders except they believe everyone is guilty of some heinous crime. Oh except for their partner and themselves and they're never totally sure of their partner.

More to come about the beautiful Scanlon and the smile that takes her breath from Stricland.

Codger

For an old codger, like the ones at the bakery, I'm more excited than usual about the 4th. It seems Michael, my son in law has an inside track down at the marina. So, we'll be able to see the fireworks from the docks as they explode over Lake Superior. It'll be my first time seeing such a site anywhere.
It takes me back when I was a kid and everybody at Gardner Lake tried to out do one another with the number of Roman candles shot off. One side of the lake would start just after dark then we'd all take turns. The show would last for an hour or more. Fun times as a kid.
There's got to be a book in that mess wouldn't you think?"

Talk soon.

Lakeside Bakery

Moving up here to Duluth I needed to find a haunt that was cheap and easy to get to. I've had a bunch of losses lately due to the real estate debacle and the banks. That's a whole other story though that will get my full attention real soon.
Anyway my haunt. The Lakeside Bakery is perfect. I could sneak downstairs at six a.m. and take my composition book and my trusty Pentel P207 0.7mm mechanical pencil and with a cup of coffee and a danish from Stephanie, an easy to look at girl, I could find myself in another world to write in. I've always liked most of my characters but it is either the place, coffee or sugar that made some of them really come to life for me.
The back alleys Stricland and Scanlon chased the bad guys in seemed more real to me. The bad guys like "The Leprechaun" became more robust in nature and then of course there is John.
What a wonderful man and along with all of the other old codgers I fit in pretty good. I sit apart from them to write but John wanders over every once in a while when a tale that he thinks is worthy of telling comes to him. Every one of them have been more than worthy. After his tale he'll head back over to the table usually taking the last chair of six. Different men come and go as the morning wears on but there's usually three for sure, Bob, Jerry and John.
Friendly, the kind of place I can feel at home. I hear them talking about the news, politics and the schools. Each searching for the others approval but set strong in their ideas of even how they should cap the oil spill in the gulf that's ruining a piece of the world that they love and honor.
I'm proud to even be in their presence. And besides, there's a book inside John. Don't know exactly what it is yet but I feel a nonfiction historical novel coming on one day soon.

More about the guys later.

A question asked?

My first novel is based upon true events of my life and invariably I'm asked certain questions about what was real and what was fiction but the best question ever was:
Did your wife really blow up?
Which I'm waiting to say this again "Only in my best day dreams."
You may think, since you haven't read the book, why in the world would anyone think that he blew up his wife. Well first my writing about her was maybe a little on the angry side but it portrayed the essence of what I wanted people to believe and that she was the bitch from hell. Which in my mind she was, but I didn't blow her up.
Fiction is a wonderful thing and I can tell you from experience that it was after I wrote the book and that its cathartic mechanism flowed from my brain to the paper that the real healing started. I could put it away and let it go and there was a sense of freedom that I hadn't felt in years. It was wonderful and even more important, it still is.

Another beautiful day in Duluth

Sorry I haven't been blogging the way I should but I had to take a trip down south to Kansas City where I'm from. Had some business to take care of. But I'm back now and had probably one of the best times ever with silly Gracie, my wife. You should get used to me talking about her because first, she's crazy and second, she's another bitch from hell (or at least can be) and third, she's my all time favorite person to be around.
Like I said I had a great time on this run just because she was there. She is the one that has inspired my next novel. Working Title "Two Old People". Of course I'm talking about the two of us and the mental escapades that we both travel and usually not in unison. It should be a funny book; at least we laughed our asses off at ourselves and in between the tears she would write down quips from the conversations that at least one of us would have later.
I'll write some more soon.

Just to update

I'm going to finish the rest of that novel "Bad Day" when I'm done writing this last one. I don't even have a working title for this one yet but I'm only about 300 pages into it. This one follows Stricland and Scanlon through more adventures of the homicide division out of Kansas City, Missouri. They are very good at their job, of course. They coupled up in my first novel and now they just kind of run the show from a distance, you might say. Too good to quit and too in love to stay on as paid employees.
Her money lets them do a lot of things in a more upscale way but what's most important to her is her relationships with Stricland, Townsend, and Bobby. Yeah, they do their detective work but most criminals are a bunch of dummies. Most detectives are usually smarter than the norm but every once in a while there comes a good one that is called in to find the perpetrator. I put plenty of twists and shoot 'em ups and close calls and some surprises that even surprised me. Damn, it's fun writing, especially when you don't know how the book is going to unfold. I have as much fun as I hope you readers will have all curled up next to a blazing fire, with a glass of wine or a great beer (My son-in-law is turning me on to different beers of late.), your favorite blanket keeping you warm and just enough light to read by, but not so much that it ruins the mood.
Hell, where's my beer and blanket. I've got to go.

Talk soon

Maybe "Bad Day" working title

"Shut the fuck up. Your bad day has just started."
"What the hell is wrong with you, man? These guys mean business up there. They're going to shoot both of us. Look at that one taking aim at your head."
The gunman quickly put his head behind Ross's. Ross laughed then started moving his head back and forth.
"You want to die asshole?"
"First of all I'm not an asshole and second of all I just lost four million dollars and my wife left me and the only thing I had left in this world was that Suburban that's upside down and just about to blow up with the only thing that ever loved me inside. My couch. So, dip shit, I think you picked the wrong asshole to hide behind."
Ross could feel the man give just a little knowing he didn't have a chance just because he had to run into the wrong asshole. Ross was in better than good shape and with that little loss of intent and with the speed of lightening he grabbed the hand with the gun and lifted it away from his head. The automatic started firing. He held the hand up with one hand and elbowed his ribcage hard with his other arm. Ross felt bones break as he tried for a huge gasp of air. He swung around twisting the gun hand and as the gunman was bending forward Ross's knee came up fast. His knee felt the guy's nose break as blood flew everywhere. He pulled the gun from the man's hand and cracked him over the head with it. The man crumpled and hit the ground face first. Ross looked at the gun and then with two fingers threw it about ten feet away. It went off again and he jumped and screamed like a little girl. He turned and gave the cops a sheepish grin then knelt on the gunman with his hands up.
"I really do want to give up, guys."
"Get off him and lay face down on the ground."
"I'm really not tired. As a matter of fact, I'm a little buzzed. Do you guys get to do this stuff all the time?"
The same cop started to get pissed. "Get down on the ground asshole or I'll put you there."
"Now that's the second guy that's called me an asshole in the last ten minutes. That one there ran into my car and just about killed me, then he had a gun to my head as you all had four to my guts. I haven't done anything that deserves your attitude. I'm going to see if my Suburban can be saved or at least some portion of it."
The cop tried to grab for him and as fast as he had grabbed the gun he moved out of the way. The cop staggered forward thinking he had him. One of the other cops jumped in.
"Come on, Jim, he's okay. Hell he kept us from getting shot. Let him alone."
He lunged at Ross one more time and again Ross just moved out of the way. The cop pulled his taser and shot at Ross. Ross moved again as one of the prongs clipped his shirt. The good cop grabbed the taser from Jim and yelled at him.
"Damn it, Jim, stop this shit now."
"Yeah, before I get hurt."
Ross walked off to see what had happened to his Suburban. He was pretty sure that the gunman probably didn't have insurance, if that other car was even his. Thank God he had full coverage, at least he thought he did. But the way this day was going he was betting that the damn insurance company was taking their damn sweet time posting his check. Of course, he thought he had enough money in the account but that would depend on whether or not the bank had obsconded with the rest of his money. This day was really turning to shit real quick. He was looking over the damage when one of the cops came up behind him and touched his shoulder to get his attention. It scared him half to death and he let out another girlie scream.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Damn it, can't you hollor or something. I was just about shot a minute ago, my car is dead, my couch is terribly wounded, my wife has left me, and...oh my God I'm a country-western song."
"Hey I just wanted to tell you that Jim really isn't a bad guy, just a little trigger happy. And I also wanted to thank you for what you did to that guy. It was a good bust for us."
"Oh God, I'm so glad it was a good bust for you guys. It just makes my heart sing with praise to the Lord that something I've done is working for someone. What the hell am I going to do now?"
"Well, you'll need to go with us because you just took down one of the mob and you'll have to testify against him so you will probably qualify for witness protection."
"Oh what the hell. You mean I couldn't even get a easy criminal to deal with? Now I've got the mob after me."
"More than likely."

Short story to be named later. Maybe "Bad Day"

Since I'm so new at all of this I was looking through other blogs and, low and behold, I found the Writers Den. I perused though some of the authors and what they were doing and there was an opinion that all writers worth their salt should be writing something all the time, especially on their blog. The blog should be more than just a daily diary. It should contain your work. It didn't take long for me to think how much I would like to do this. Show the people out there that I can write and maybe some of them would even like to read my stuff.
Okay enough about that. It was just about 30 minutes ago that all of this was hitting me so I came up with this idea to just write a short story. (Okay, Gracie, don't throw things at me; it was your idea.) Here goes.

There wasn't much left for Ross to do now but pack up what was left and maybe even take off for Mexico. He'd at least start his wanderings in that direction; he couldn't think of a reason to stay. His friends weren't really his friends, and since the failure of the great gamble, no one was talking to him for fear that the bad luck would rub off or that the only thing that made up a man was what he won at. Not his losses. Ross had a hard time with that one. He was made up of both and didn't know of anyone that wasn't.
He had been there for all his buddies, lending them money or time, which ever they needed most, but just trying to collect on what was owed him would take a gun to their heads. He wasn't about to do that yet although the idea had crossed his mind many times in the dead of the night when he was trying to go to sleep on the only thing the ex didn't take in the divorce...his old beat up but comfortable couch.
He didn't have the money to hire a lawyer and for the most part he didn't care one way or the other. He had started out with less than this before. It was just a matter of time before he was back on top. He knew how to make money. It was just hard for him to keep it. If he had known he probably wouldn't be in this predicament now.
He drug his two-seat couch out to his Suburban and hefted it up in the back. He never moved anywhere without it. That was where his dreams came to him. It was his lucky couch although lately he had to twist some things sideways in his mind to consider what had happened that was actually lucky. Well, it wasn't much of a stretch as far as the ex went. All she had wanted him for was a pair of boobs, a nose, some cheek bones, and a butt implant. After all of that had been done she started playing around. He knew it but just really didn't care anymore. She had been gold digger and that was about all there was to her. He hadn't taken the time in the beginning to find out all of the cobwebs that had set up shop in her brain. That was probably lucky but he wasn't sure the four million dollar real estate debacle that crashed when everything else did was lucky at all. He'd have to work a while to get all that back.
Well, here was another piece of luck though. The Suburban started. It's not like it didn't usually but with his run of luck he wasn't going to be surprised at anything any more. He looked back over his shoulder one last time at his beautiful home. He wasn't going to dwell on the bad stuff anymore. It was done and over so now it was time to get on with the rest of his life. He took off with a mild roar of the diesel engine. He had five hundred bucks in his pocket and life was beckoning him on. He turned on the his music and was listening to his favorite CD. Kelly Clarkson. He thought maybe someday he would meet her just for drinks. She looked like someone that he could carry on a good conversation with about anything. She seemed as good with a word as he was. God, why didn't he see that in his ex. The only excuse he had was that he had to have been thinking with his small head, not with the one that mattered. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Damn it, shut up, Ross. God haven't you had enough of belittling yourself. You can't be responsible for trusting someone, especially if that someone says one thing and does another."
Oh, God, no. Now he was talking to himself. What in the world is next? Maybe if he'd stop and get a six pack...no, a twelve pack of beer, maybe by the end of it he could think straight again.
He really hadn't thought much about where he was ; he just knew he wanted to go south where is was warm most of the year. He had had enough of the cold damp ugly winters that only offered snow shoveling and skidding and wrecks and just plain chaos. He had been to New Orleans once so maybe he'd at least start out in that direction.
"Because of You" came up and damn if it didn't hit home. He wasn't going to trust anyone from now on out. He was a good looking guy and he could have his fill of one night stands and he wasn't going to let the idiot between his legs rule his world any longer. He'd had enough.
And then just as he was going to belt it all out with Kelly a car T-boned him going ninety-to-nothing. It was one of the few times he had put his seat belt on, and it kept him somewhere around the drivers seat getting pummeled by the air-bag, and then his Suburban started spinning and spinning, then hit a curb, then flipping and rolling until it came to rest upside down in a culvert of sorts.
He shook his head and was glad he had been hit on the passenger side because there was no way he would have lived through that much damage if it had happened on his side. He pushed the bag out of his way and tried to dust some of the powder off. He pushed his seat belt button and let himself drop to the roof. The front window was out and he thought it best with the smell of gas to get out. As he climbed out he was hoping that the other guy had some good insurance. He finally stopped spinning in his head as he touched his feet to the ground. He backed up to the grass to take a good look at what had been the best piece of transportation that he had ever owned. It didn't look so good right at the moment, but probably because of it's size he virtually came out with out a scratch.
The next thing he felt was a man's arm coming around his neck and a gun placed to the side of his head and then he was whirled around to face the gun barrels of four officers of the law. He put up his hands in fear and said, "I give up."
"No you don't, asshole. Put your hands down."
"They're going to shoot me and I'm going to give up before they do!"
"Have you ever heard of a hostage."
"Oh damn, I just thought I was having a bad day."

One day closer

I should of been writing more but this is all so new for a sixty year old and I'm having my own troubles along with the blogger being down yesterday.
First of all, I want everyone to know that I'm writing my twentieth novel at the moment. I think I'm considered old school since I write out everything by hand in pencil first. When I type it in I do my editing of either more or less description or character development and try and take out my biggest flaws. I rarely remember what day of the week I'm in when I'm writing books. Of course, I rarely know what day of the week it is in real life, but that's the price you pay for keeping your nose to the grindstone.
I'll be posting the prologue of my first novel "Day of the Dogs" on its website real soon. Dan-the-computer-man has a day job too and has a limited amount of time to devote to all of this, but once we have it down pat things will go smoother.
Well I have to get back to the pencil to make sure everyone will have a good book to curl up with. I'm reading James Patterson right now. All of the Alex Cross books. I hear Morgan Freeman in my head as he's reading his lines in the book. Yeah, okay so I'm a little crazy. That's how I get through it all.

Buy My Book-Day of the Dogs

Why should you buy my book? I'll tell you why. Because it's a good read, I will like the money, and it's so much cheaper this way than when I had it published by a publishing company. At Amazon and Borders it was priced at $14.95. Everyone was making money besides me. The agent, publisher and book stores were the ones that made all the money while I get a small pittance and I'm supposed to be so thankful for all my hard work that didn't take hours but took months and, in this case, years to finish.
That's why I will be selling all my works as time goes on with the help of some great people like Mr. Dan Kimball who will be setting us up with great times reading about my mental adventures.