Some key words and hints from my new crime novel: The Twisted Mind of Cletus Compton.

Psychopath
Sociopath
Murder
Kidnapper
Brother

Mama
knife
Sheriff
FBI
Psychiatrist
Children
Chains
Fire

The on line launch is Tuesday August 16th from 7 to 8:30 P.M.
Lots of swag to give away.
E book edition is on pre-order now.
Link to launch party: Facebook,com/events/151163698647171

   Hope to see you at the party.


http://tinyurl.com/j55ae2s

A Day on the Mountain

A Day on the Mountain.

I bowed my head and kept walking. When the sound in my ears became deafening, I stopped and leaned against a tree so as not to fall back down the steep mountain. When the sound of beating drums softened like they were moving further away from me, I started walking again. I took a second to glance back the way I'd come. It was nearly straight up. The walk was treacherous, but it seemed like such a good idea when I began.

It was another one of those things I felt I must do to cleanse my soul so I could go on to next part of my life. The part after marriage. Is a marriage lasting twenty-five years, before it breaks up, considered a failure. I felt it was. I had mothered two wonderful girls, raised them and got them through college before I left. The drums were getting closer again now. The sound so rhythmic and loud I felt it was going to take over my body and brain. Again I stopped. And again after several minutes of leaning on the nearest tree, it was gone. Whatever was following me was unnerving, yet I wasn't afraid of it. My goal had been to write down all of the good and bad of my marriage and then climb to the top of a glacier pack in the Black Hills and bury it. Cathartic I thought.

For months before the trip I walked mile after mile up and down hills, but nothing prepared me for the high altitude of the mountains. I was making my way slowly up Lover's Loop, a five mile path to the top of the mountain and back. The day before I had walked a different walk and felt like I was in a New York subway because of all of the people I met on the way. Today I picked a more treacherous route hoping not to be in such a crowd. I had been walking for four hours and no one passed me nor did I hear anything but those drums.

So my dilemma was both good and bad. I was going to be alone to sit at the top of the glacier and read my story, and find a place to bury it for eternity. Yet the downside was if there was anything of danger up on the mountain, I was destined to meet it by myself.

I learned early in my walk that the air was thin and I would have to keep my head down to keep from becoming dizzy from the exertion of the climb. Every twenty or thirty feet was a huge pine tree. I was able to go from tree to tree to rest. As I rested I would look up and plot my course to the next tree so I could rest again. I was not yet fifty, but the thinner the air became, the older I felt.

After doing the drum, no drum thing for over an hour I realized it was my own heart beating in my ears. I should have been amused at my own deceit, yet now that I knew, I stopped at every tree to give myself the rest I needed.

So here I am, trudging up the mountain side hour after hour with my head down when I run into a tree. Oh my goodness, it wasn't a tree, it was a massive two thousand pound buffalo. He was grazing in the tree line and I hadn't seen him. I tried not to panic as I scampered back down two trees and hid behind one. Peeking around the tree, I looked at him to see how mad he was I had run into him, but he was still grazing as though he didn't know I was there. Because of his massive size, I was probably a mere gnat to him.

I stayed in my hiding place behind the study pine and watched him as he leisurely ate , making his way further and further toward the other side of the glacier until I felt safe enough to go on with my plans.

All in all, the walk up the mountain took six hours. I read my history once more and took my camping shovel out of my pack. I couldn't make a deep hole in the rocky soil, so I buried my story under a big pile of pine needles and rocks. After making the area look as natural as I could, I went on feeling lighter and happier than I had in years.

The trip down the mountain took less than and hour and I was forced to walk from side to side and tree to tree to keep from sliding down on my backside. When I got there, my friends were waiting to tell about their adventures and I felt I would never be able to admit I thought my own heart beat was made by drums or that I ran smack into the side of a buffalo. But I did tell my story and we all laughed at each others adventures.

It ended up to be quite a vacation, in more ways than one.

A Tiny View of Socrates

Socrates would have been lost in our world and most likely cast aside as a nut job.  He was dirty, barefoot, and ugly.  It was his habit to walk around the streets of the Athens marketplace and ask the people he met a series of questions aimed at examining their lives.  

Most people do not take kindly to someone, anyone, especially a filthy, ugly, and  unkempt man, who interrupts their day to search their thinking. It was the life of Socrates.

To make matters worse,  Socrates didn't  write anything down.  All we know about his life and times we read from his students, the most famous being Plato.  Socrates wanted to know what and why people were what they were.  Did their belief follow the rules of common sense.  In other words if a married man was happy did it mean all married men were happy.  Common sense says no.  So if Socrates could find an exception to a statement he considered it false. He would consider finding more exceptions to a statement until it was found to be completely false.

I would imagine it was annoying at best.  Socrates was trying to get everyone he met to think outside the box, to be a self confident thinker and not to follow the crowd.  People were likened to sheep who always followed the leader and were horribly afraid to get out of the herd.  People are especially prone to follow those they deem successful or rich.  He found out , however, the people who were famous or rich, more likely than not did not understand or know why they had become rich or successful. Most thought they were just lucky.   

Socrates thought anyone and everyone should think.  Thinking should not be left to the folks with higher educational degrees.  It does not necessary make them  better thinkers- a horrible misconception.

If I make a statement, and say Bill Clinton, makes a conflicting statement, the most famous will be taken as correct.  Although, Bill might not know anything about the subject.  Human nature, I guess.  Education and fame trumps  relative unknown author and speaker.  Hum. Socrates was not a fan of democracy for this reason. Majority rules and focus groups that guides us today would have unnerved him.  He was a great fan of logical and reasonable thought.  Those two things are not necessarily present in our modern day decisions.

Socrates is best known for saying "I know that I know nothing."  The  Oracle of Delphi said he was the wisest man alive at the time.

The "I know that I know nothing." quote follows a basic philosophy many of we life time learners.Yet we put it another way.  "The more I know, the more I realize I don't know."  Those of us who read and study to write books and articles realize what we know is the tip of the iceberg.

Socrates was eventually tried and put to death for corrupting the youth of Athens and ignoring the gods .

He was forced to drink hemlock and died, what I am sure was a nasty death.

What he taught us rings true today.  An un-examined life is a wasted one.   It is worth it to know what you really believe and to not follow the crowd.   It will open a new chapter in you life.  Colors will appear brighter and the journey more meaningful and joy full.   I don't think hemlock is as readily available as it was back then, so grab a book you have always wanted to read but were afraid people would make fun of.

Someone once asked me what I was reading.  My daughter was there and said " Mom reads weird books."

I thought it a great compliment.

Have a great day.

Motivation

There was a time when I didn't get the concept that motivation comes after the fact.
In other words, you must force yourself to do a chore the first time and then the, feeling of success you get gives you the motivation to do it again.

I proved it to myself again this morning.  Being obsessed with getting my book Tattered Wings published, I find myself sitting hour after hour.  I read it.  I reread it.  I make changes.  Then I send out query letters and pages to prospective agents. When I look up at the clock it is noon.  My pj's are still on and I have downed a pot of coffee.

The result of this daily behavior is stress and sore muscles.  This morning I changed my routine.  I got up, did the minimum chores I could ( no easy task on a 100 acre farm) and headed to the gym. Twenty minutes on the treadmill, ten minutes on the StairMaster and a variety of arm weights, helped melt the tension away.

Now, I find myself looking forward to going to the gym tomorrow.  When I sit five hours working on my novel,  I can smile. I did accomplish something for my health today.  Tomorrow I will work on leg machines and increase my times on the tread mill and Stair Master( I didn't want to throw my body into shock on the first day).

Do something today for yourself.  Sure, I am writing my book for me as much as anything (actually it is to get rid of those voices in my head).  But, I am not doing it as the expense of my health.
Next I am going to tackle my ice cream obsession.