The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon Trilogy Blog Tour

A scandalous Top Secret Facility built on Sacred Ground triggers an ancient Cheyenne curse.

The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon: Cheyenne Spirits

Dead Horse Canyon Saga Book 1

by Marcha Fox & Pete Risingsun

Genre: Native American Cross-Cultural Conspiracy Thriller

GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION TRIGGERS AN ANCIENT CHEYENNE CURSE…

Greed and corruption have infiltrated the once-pristine Colorado Rockies, echoes of years past when silver miners swarmed the area like vermin, precipitating a 19th Century curse. Now a new generation delivers a different form of pollution, among them the most corrupt entity of them all.

All Sara Reynolds remembers of the wreck that slammed their Silverado to the depths of Dead Horse Canyon is Bryan’s dying plea to expose what he found. Why did they kill him? What happened that fateful spring day? Will she and her dead husband’s life-long Native American friend, Charlie Littlewolf, discover his secret?

Ceremonies taught by Charlie’s Northern Cheyenne medicine man grandfather decades before can connect with the spirits and reveal all things. He shunned them then. He needs them now, like never before. Coupled with Sara’s ethereal clues from the heavens can they find answers in time? Or will the same black ops raiders murder them, too?

READERS’ FAVORITE 5-STAR REVIEW

“Infused with a sense of danger, the intricate plot and dramatic storyline create a breathtaking and intense story.An exceptional novel complete with conspiracy, intrigue, and murder that will enthrall everyone who has an affinity for suspenseful thrillers with just a smidgen of the paranormal.” –Susan Sewell

THE BOOK COMMENTARY 5-STAR REVIEW

“A fascinating blend of historical mystery and the supernatural that is as suspenseful as it is entertaining. How the past affects the present is a cleverly handled theme, and the narrative highlights the enduring consequences of greed and disrespect for the land. Boldly written, tautly plotted, and expertly delivered.” –George Buehlman

AWARDS

Page Turner Book Award
Silver Medal Global Book Awards
Pinnacle Book Achievement Award
Book Excellence Award Finalist
Readers’ Favorite 5-star Review

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PROLOGUE

COLORADO ROCKIES

April 17, Tuesday

4:17 p.m.

Breathtaking drops along the road that rimmed Colorado’s Dead Horse Canyon terrified Sara Reynolds from the start. Cliffs and gorges stretched on and off for miles, few protected by guardrails.

“Too expensive,” Bryan explained. “Not a priority for lean county budgets.”

His advice for dealing with roadway-induced acrophobia was simple:

“Keep your eyes on the center line. Concentrate on the road. Whatever you do, never, ever look down!”

His words sprang from memory, recommendations moot. Ignoring the threat didn’t make it go away. Especially when someone T-boned your truck on a blind curve.

Their mangled Silverado teetered on a ledge twenty feet below. She stared, incredulous, as steam twisted upward from its crumpled hood in a sultry, hypnotic dance. Vapors crawled along the shattered windshield, then teased the heart-shaped leaves of a young quaking aspen—the truck’s only ally against a sheer drop of several hundred feet.

The realization she’d been the truck’s passenger only moments before sizzled through her like lightning. Why was she weightless, brunette tendrils floating about her shoulders like a storm cloud? Her horrified gaze shifted to her husband, likewise weightless and wearing his signature crooked grin.

“What happened?” Her words were soundless, thought rather than speech.

“We’re dead.”

“What? Dead? What do you mean we’re dead?”

He pointed to their truck. She gasped. Their lifeless bodies were clearly visible through the cab’s passenger side window.

He was right—they were dead.

The tender expression in his hazel eyes embraced her heart as affection flowed between them. An unexpected sense of peace  defied what lay below. Time froze, the forest hushed and serene as a leafy chorus offered a requiem in the spring breeze.

What seemed an eternity later, sirens screamed through the canyon. His demeanor shifted.

“I’m sorry, Sara. That didn’t exactly work out as planned. I know—I should have listened to you. I love you, sweetheart.”

Renewed panic surged. “What are you saying, Bryan?”

“You must go back. Promise me. Don’t let them get away with this. Please.”

He blew her a kiss, then his personage retreated, fading into a swirling vortex of unearthly light.

No! Wait. Don’t leave me! Bryan, please. Don’t go!”

He didn’t stop, her plea denied, his only response a wave of farewell as he vanished into the light.

* * *

She awoke to mind-numbing pain. Her shoulder, neck, and hip screamed, spasms twisting every muscle as if some wild beast had torn them apart. There’d been an ear-splitting crash, a brilliant flash of light. . .

Where was Bryan? Where was she?

Unless someone knew otherwise, surely it was hell.

Somewhere far away a muffled siren wailed. Fear of the truth conspired with her blood-crusted lashes not to open her eyes. Pain vetoed the refusal. Her eyelids trembled open.

A sandy haired, broad-shouldered man in a blue EMS uniform sat beside her, attention fixed on a beeping vital signs monitor. A metallic taste filled her mouth, lips swollen and heavy, her attempt to speak a scratchy whisper.

“What. . .happened? Wh-where’s Bryan? Is he h-here?”

The man turned her way, regarding her with dark, concerned eyes.

“It’s okay, ma’am. Don’t try to talk.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We’re getting you to help as fast as we can.”

Her breathing quickened, ravaged muscles and nerves on fire, but the agony consuming her heart eclipsed it all. A sob caught in her throat, words an articulated whimper.

“H-he left me. Here….”

“Just relax.” He emptied a syringe into the port of the IV line embedded in her arm.

The pain ebbed. Again nothing. Only darkness.

* * *

BELTON REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER

April 17, Tuesday

5:37 p.m.

The sensation of motion breached the persistent fog. Her eyes cracked open as the gurney rumbled through a portal into blinding light. Electronic chirping, then muted voices, the smell of antiseptics.

She forced her query out from somewhere in her chest. “W-what h-happened?”

The pretty black nurse hanging a unit of blood looked her way. “You were in a bad wreck, darlin’. Just rest now. You’re in good hands. You’re awake and that’s a really good sign.”

“But my husband—”

“I know, darlin’. Don’t worry about him. He’s in a better place.” Tears flowed unbidden. It had to be a nightmare. Willing herself awake, however, failed. Abandonment and confusion in the grip of agonizing pain remained.

Return to Dead Horse Canyon: Grandfather Spirits

Dead Horse Canyon Saga Book 2

THE DEAD HORSE CANYON SAGA CONTINUES. . .

READERS’ FAVORITE 5-STAR REVIEW

“I went into ‘Return to Dead Horse Canyon’ not having read the first book and while it does read comfortably as a stand-alone, after just a couple of chapters I actually went back to read ‘The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon’ before restarting book two. It was an excellent decision. The building of the Cheyenne history is critical to the story and had I not understood Sara’s complete motivation and Charlie’s fully fleshed-out roots, I’d have missed out on so much more than just a good read. My gosh, the depth of ethnology packed into both novels is meticulously researched and beautifully detailed. Co-authors Marcha Fox and Pete Risingsun are a dream team with this saga and I’m really looking forward to the third and final installment of their trilogy.” — Asher Syed

DESCRIPTION

This epic modern Native American saga continues in this sequel to “The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon” where Charlie Littlewolf and Sara Reynolds discovered why her husband, Bryan, was murdered, changing their lives forever. While Charlie swore to avenge his white brother’s death, the path to do so remains unclear.

His job with Lone Star Operations allows him to use his college education and earn a generous income. However, it conflicts with everything he knows to be right, especially as he returns to the teachings of his medicine man grandfather. Is violating the Earth wrong or not? Little does he realize that his work will ultimately return him to the Northern Cheyenne reservation where his true destiny will manifest in ways he never imagined.

Sara is determined to fulfill Bryan’s last request to expose the government corruption coupled with the lethal forces that stole his life. Releasing the scandalous Top Secret data via WikiLeaks infuriates those with much to lose, who place a high price on her demise. When her response gets too personal, the next attempt to silence her forever comes close to home.

While miles apart, each struggles with life-threatening situations as a result of their dedication to Bryan’s legacy. Their lives remain entangled through a series of fateful decisions and circumstances that define a future fraught with dangerous unknowns for them both.

AWARDS

Pinnacle Book Achievement Award
Firebird Book Award
Book Excellence Award Finalist
5-star Readers’ Favorite Review
Page Turner Award Finalist

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The Revenge of Dead Horse Canyon: Sweet Medicine Spirits

Dead Horse Canyon Saga Book 3

The DEAD HORSE CANYON Trilogy’s explosive conclusion!
Picking up where “Return to Dead Horse Canyon: Grandfather Spirits” left off, we find that much to her enemy’s dismay, Sara’s life is spared, but with a steep price. A million dollar bounty remains on her demise, motivating another to threaten her life. Paralyzed by the last attempt to eliminate her, her Native American friend, Charlie, promises to help restore her health so she can walk again. Before he can accomplish that, however, the unthinkable happens, which disrupts and redirects their plans.

To fulfill his promise to his Northern Cheyenne Grandfather to complete a four-day ceremonial fast at the Sacred Mountain, Charlie journeys to Bear Butte in South Dakota, known to his tribe as Novavose. A series of startling visions reveal the full scope of his destiny. Of prime importance is to restore the ancient Earth Giving Ceremony known as the Massaum, originally revealed thousands of years before by their prophet, Sweet Medicine.

Has the time come at last for Native People to unite and fulfill Black Cloud’s curse on Dead Horse Canyon? And what about those other 19th century prophecies directed to the 7th Generation by Black Elk and Crazy Horse?

Phase I of the PURF complex is complete. A gala open house to celebrate is scheduled around the same time as the Gathering of Indigenous Leaders. While the underground facility is filled to the brim with corrupt lobbyists, contractors, and government officials, not far away a host of First Nation Americans is entrenched in a ceremony that promises to restore them to their land.

What could possibly go wrong?

5-STAR EDITORIAL REVIEW FROM READERS’ FAVORITE

The Revenge of Dead Horse Canyon by Marcha Fox and Pete Risingsun stands out for its sharp writing and complete ability to immerse readers, especially in Charlie’s spiritual transformation. Poor Sara just cannot get a break. Attacked, paralyzed, kidnapped, and then labeled a domestic terrorist and sanctioned! This isn’t just a fight for survival; this is about the power of truth in the face of overwhelming opposition. Charlie fits into this description, with a spectacular ceremony for Sara’s healing, but also as a powerful catalyst when he is in the presence of Grandmother Earth and the consequences of his actions. Fox and Risingsun are a dream writing team in every way, and, culturally, this portrayal of Charlie’s heritage is painted from the sky to the smallest pebble and the fire burning in between. The pacing is elevated by point of view shifts and all the drama, but also a surprising relationship transformation as well. Ultimately, this finale succeeds with a perfect 10 landing. Very, very highly recommended.”

AWARDS

Reader’s Favorite 5-stars
Book Excellence Award
Pinnacle Achievement Award

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** Get the trilogy box set! **

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A sweetgrass braid ordered in 2019 connected a NASA physicist in Texas with a Cheyenne elder living on the Northern Cheyenne reservation in Montana. That relationship evolved from a transaction to a consultation to a co-authorship that produced a culturally meticulous, spiritually grounded, award-winning conspiracy thriller trilogy.

Before publishing “The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon” Marcha wanted to confirm her portrayal of Native American culture and the story’s protagonist, Charlie Littlewolf, was accurate as well as respectful toward indigenous people.

Synchronicity intervened via that sweetgrass braid and connected her with Pete Risingsun, an enrolled member and elder in the Northern Cheyenne tribe. He offered insights and changes, but best of all, was so taken with the story he ultimately became its coauthor.

Marcha’s experience as a retired NASA engineer and seasoned author of The Star Trails Tetralogy science fiction series, melded perfectly with Pete’s knowledge of his tribe’s history and ceremonies.

The pair, who has never met face to face, collaborated via phone calls, text messages, and snail mail between her home in the Texas Hill Country and his on the reservation in Montana.

It took five years to produce the trilogy that comprises “The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon Saga,” the three books of which have collected a total of 13 awards.

In preparation for writing the saga’s explosive conclusion, Marcha and Pete conducted extensive research. In so doing, they were delighted to uncover fascinating details of Norther Cheyenne history and ceremonies that dove-tailed perfectly with the complex story’s plot, tying it back to numerous events in the 19th Century.

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Signed Hardback of “The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon” (US only)

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Review of “Elke’s Magic” by Inger Margaret Foster

This first book in the Circle of Souls series is indeed magical. Fourteen year old Meg and her brother, Sam, meet Elke, a woman who lives in a small house in the woods. She helps their sick cat and introduces them to her horses. She teaches them to ride, much to their delight. However, the kids have been sneaking away without their mother’s permission, which ultimately results in trouble.

Misunderstandings abound, causing considerable problems that get more complex with the kids forbidden from seeing Elke or the horses again. Not wanting to wander into spoiler territory, I’ll just say that this story is intriguing and loaded with insights on dealing with a person who’s emotionally disturbed. When I was growing up, my mother was a lot like Meg’s so I could relate. I remember well being given the silent treatment without knowing what I had done wrong. As a teen it’s hard to understand why a parent acts like that and it can be very difficult to deal with.

Back to the story, Elke has a variety of secrets that add considerable depth to the story which contribute to a very touching, tearjerker ending. Her past ties back to WWII and the heartbreak caused by separations. I highly recommend this as the first book in this series and have already read another one out of order as I binge this series. I look forward to reading the next one to see what continues in the life of these many endearing characters in a fictitious town that reminds me a lot of the one where I grew up, right down to it’s geological location.

You can get your copy on Amazon here.

Touching and Inspiring

Review of Inger Margaret Foster’s “June’s Song”

I absolutely loved this beautiful story. If you have (or are) a teenager, this is a book I recommend very highly. It’s important to note that it takes place in the 1970s, a time I remember well, yet is ancient history to kids today. Things have changed, a lot, and much of it for the good, especially in recognizing how people are traumatized and how they can be helped. Back then you were on your own. Even if you had the money for counseling, there was little known at that time about many of the problems people encounter today. Those that overcame were probably stronger, but no telling what scars they lived with. And what about those who didn’t?

June Adams is a 17 year old who is overwhelmed by numerous unfortunate events in her life which ultimately endow her with way too much responsibility. While she considers ending it all, fortunately this is averted and June steps up to what she must do. A good friend as well as a very special friend where she works help her hang in there. She finds time to pursue her talents and being a normal teen in spite of her many challenges.

This story is powerful on so many levels. Accepting things the way they are and just dealing with them while maintaining a positive attitude is so important, yet seldom easy. Dealing with loss is difficult, no matter what your age or experience.

One thing I love about this author’s books is the way they blur the boundaries between life and death. This book is part of her “Circles of the Soul” series, which I intend to explore in its entirety. Those on the “other side” are still there, caring about those they left behind. They are now in a better place and as much as they may be missed, the best way to honor them is to continue to embrace the life you have.

If I were a high school teacher I would make this story required reading, which would fit well for either English or Social Studies classes. Highly recommended for all ages.

Learn more about the author and her other books on her website here.

You can get your copy on Amazon here.

Beautiful Prose, Beautiful Message

Review of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s “Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses”

This book has so many layers I hardly know where to start. First of all the prose is so beautifully poetic that aspiring writers of any genre should read it as a sterling example of that alone. Her use of analogies and metaphors add so much for the depth it reveals about this incredible author whose indigenous roots shine brightly in her books.

I never would have imagined that there could be that many varieties of mosses or that someone could devote their life and earn a PhD to their study. Our world is full of wonders, many of which are consistently overlooked. The beauty of mosses is clearly overlooked by the average person, myself included.

 I love nature of all varieties, and was fascinated as well as astounded by the botanical side of this book. Who has ever expected more beauty from a moss beyond its soft, velvety touch on tree trunks or an old stone wall? That some mosses you may find are as old as the place they occupy? That they are true home-bodies and don’t respond well to being moved? That they can live for centuries, yet are so sensitive and particular about where they grow?

How many people realize that moss has amazing absorption qualities such that it can hold 60X its weight in liquid? Or that prior to the availability of cloth much less Huggies that ancient woman used it for diapers or sanitary products? If you need a trivia question no one is likely to guess there’s one for you!

Robin’s love for nature is impossible to miss. As a Native American she has a connection to Mother Earth that most white people lack. A couple times when she mentioned a species evolving I had to smile. I guess you can’t get to PhD level without being indoctrinated to the white scientific view of the world to some degree. But surely in her heart she knows that each of these beautiful plants was created as were all the animals and humans.

Her experiences during her research were fascinating. Canoeing through rivers embraced by steep canyon walls, a research center accessible only by boat where she would spend summers with her daughters, a consulting job at some anonymous wealthy owner’s estate who was trying to coerce nature to his will, thinking money alone was enough.

As an integrated whole, this book is like a guided meditation. It’s about so much more than the science of bryophytes. The title has as many layers as the book itself. Like the cliche, “A rolling stone gathers no moss,” it beckons you to slow down and look closer at the world around you.

This book is a masterpiece. Think of it as a walk through the woods on a spring day, not to be rushed, expectations open, or you’ll miss its magic. It’s encouraging to see how popular her books are, that people are seeking a world that those obsessed with power and greed have tried so hard to hide.

You can get your copy of Amazon here.

Review of “Seven Cats Of Kubbeli Evler” by John Rutherford

Today, October 29, is National Cat Day. A while back I decided to post a review for a book about cats as part of the celebration, since I’m a devout cat lover. When I found this one it sounded interesting enough that I bought a copy.

I’m not sure where to begin reviewing it. I’ll start by saying that the ages 9 – 18 for which it’s listed is extremely inaccurate. There is no way some of the scenes in this story are suitable for a child. I’d set the minimum age at no less than 15.

Whether it involves people or animals, there are certain violent, gratuitous acts that a young child does not need to read about. The violent murder of one of the original human characters and the gang rape of a fox with a graphic description of her injuries were horrifying enough, much less for a child. Other sexual innuendoes were also very borderline acceptable for a nine year old. What was he thinking?

Supposedly this author has written other children’s books as well. I surely hope they’re not as graphic and inappropriate as this one. I found this the most troubling and why I gave it an abysmal one-star review on Amazon when combined with all its other flaws. I shudder to think of someone buying this book for their child or grandchild, much less attempting to read it aloud.

My overall impression is that it was dark, unpleasant, and at times downright disturbing. True, nature can be cruel, but who would impose this on a young child in the guise of an animal story? I grew up on animal stories by Paul Gallico and Robert Lawson that were not even in the same universe as this one.

Bad reviews are no fun for authors but I feel it’s only fair to explain why I gave it such a poor rating. Maybe the author will learn something from it. Sadly, this is another example of a self-published book that gives all independent authors a bad name.

So let’s take a look at my observations.

The cats’ names were those of the Sun, Moon, and planets, an apparent attempt to bring in an astrological theme. However, whatever personality they may have had is not particularly noticeable, much less related to the archetypes of the planets, with the possible exception of Neptune. One human character named Wicked was apparently named Wizard in an earlier version, the change not corrected in a few places. Why he had that name was not apparent because he wasn’t a bad guy.

The writing style was unique and has possibilities, but seemed a bit archaic. Besides that, the book as a whole is in desperate need of serious, I mean serious, editing. The plot, I suppose, was of the “quest” variety, but didn’t hit the mark there, either. He never explained as far as I could tell why the evil “eyes of the mountain” had it in for poor Pluto. Some paragraphs were a page long. Redundant statements littered the narrative throughout as well as typos galore and even wrong words, e.g. “mercifully” instead of “mercilessly.”

Sentence fragments are often used in fiction for effect, but rather than technique, this joined numerous other examples showing blatant ignorance of proper grammar. Punctuation of dialog was almost always incorrect and the speaker’s identity often in question. Subject-verb agreement was likewise often wrong. I guess the point of view was omniscient since many observations in the narrative were far beyond that of the animal protagonists the author claimed to represent. I suspect he was trying to pen an allegorical story steeped in symbolism that simply didn’t work. His original idea may have had something going for it, but he lacked the writing skill and knowledge of literary techniques to execute it successfully.

Besides the writing issues, there was also the matter of structure. The Prologue, which is normally a prequel to the story itself, was more of an Introduction.  And the Introduction was more of a combined dramatis personnae and glossary. If anything they seemed like a didactic attempt to spoon-feed the readers what the story was about, in case they missed the point.

This is probably one of the worst books I’ve ever read, all things considered from its inaccurate target audience to the plethora of editorial issues. At least I finished it, which I usually don’t bother to do if a book is so badly written it’s a total waste of my time.  I definitely won’t be reading anything else by this author anytime soon and it should be clear I don’t recommend this one. However, it does fit a variation of the old adage, “No book is ever wasted. It can always serve as a bad example.”

You can see the description on Amazon here.

Review of “You Can Heal Your Life” by Louise Hay

It’s hard to fathom a book selling over 50 million copies and being on the New York Times Best Seller list twice, the first time for 14 weeks and achieving that honor again 22 years later. Books that hang around like that obviously contain something that resonates. This is truly a landmark book. I suspect it may have been one of, if not the first self-help book.

I’m amazed that I just discovered it after hearing it mentioned on a podcast. Much of its content was familiar since I’ve read various other books on the subject of how our emotions affect our health. The first one I read was “Feelings Buried Alive Never Die” by Karol Kuhn Truman. Now I’m sure it was derived from Louise Hay’s book.

If you’re not 100% happy with your life and you’re not already one of the 50+ million who has read this book, I urge you to do so. It can truly be life-changing. Even being familiar with the principles, it never hurts to have a refresher of such important information.

Think about feelings for a moment. They’re called that because you literally feel them. Considering your body’s physiology, they are caused by chemicals emitted when you’re experiencing a certain emotion. While some feelings are positive, like love and joy, others aren’t–hate, anger, anxiety, fear, frustration. These negative emotions emit chemicals that are toxic and tend to target and weaken certain organs with dis-ease.

Needless to say, nutrition is important and can cause problems as well. Changing our established eating habits and patterns isn’t easy and neither is letting go of old baggage and changing your thoughts. However, if you’re ready to make some changes, reading this book is a good place to start. Clearly it has helped millions of others.

You can get your copy on Amazon.

Review of “Always Just Beyond” by Inger Margaret Foster

There’s no better time for a ghost story than October and this sweet paranormal cozy mystery/romance is perfect. I thoroughly enjoyed this sweet story with its unique plot and engaging characters. I read it in a single sitting because I couldn’t put it down.

Jo and Philip Briton fall in love with this old house on the waterfront in Connecticut because it just feels like home. They walk out to the water to check the wonderful view and both see an apparition, a beautiful young woman gazing out across the sea. Then she vanishes.

They buy the house anyway and a friendly but somewhat odd neighbor gives them clues relative to its history, including who the ghostly woman was. An old steamer truck in the attic contains more information about the house’s history as well as a small book written a century before that includes more of the story.

The twists and turns are great as the story unfolds, one of which gave me goosebumps. Surprises right up to the very end, which then makes so much sense. I loved the characters, all unique and well-developed. By the end of the story I had one question unanswered that would be a spoiler to include. Perhaps it could be covered by a possible sequel, which would be great.

I’m sure at some point I will reread this touching story, knowing all its little secrets. I loved it and highly recommend it as a wonderful break into another dimension that is closer than we think. I’ll definitely be reading more from this author. I connected with the story even more since some of my ancestors lived in that very part of the country. It was interesting to learn more of the history of the area as well as the mention of familiar places.

You can pick up a copy on Amazon here.

Confessions of a Life-Long Bibliophile

The True Loves of My Life

As an only child, books were important. Fortunately, my mother read to me as a young child such that I could read by the time I went to school. I was reading chapter books by 3rd grade, maybe sooner. My early favorites were animal stories by authors like Paul Gallico, who wrote “The Abandoned,” my favorite book for many years, perhaps for all time. Robert Lawson, author of “The Tough Winter” was another favorite.

I remember going to the Peekskill New York Public Library in my home town and coming home with a huge stack of books, especially in the summer.

While still in elementary school I discovered Nancy Drew Mysteries. I would save my allowance to buy the latest release and had them all, which were usually read more than once. As a teen my favorite was “The Catcher in the Rye” by J.D. Salinger. I remember reading on a city bus and coming to a part that made me laugh out loud, earning odd looks from my fellow passengers.

As a working adult, I had to give up certain authors because they kept me up all night: Michael Crichton, Tom Clancy, John Grisham, to name a few.

Home at Last!

Somewhere along the line I discovered science fiction. The classics by Jules Verne such as “Journey to the Center of the Earth” and H.G. Wells’ “The Time Machine” were my first discovery, followed by Isaac Asimov and Robert A. Heinlein, the latter my all-time favorite, especially “The Door Into Summer” and “A Stranger in a Strange Land,” where the word “grok” originated, for those of you who didn’t know.

I scratched out my first science fiction story in 6th grade on yellow lined paper about the planet our teacher hailed from.  Not much of a plot, but my classmates found it entertaining. Not surprisingly, an avid reader like myself aspired to be an author when I grew up, more specifically a science fiction author.

One thing that always frustrated me was that science fiction books had very little actual science in them, probably why I favored Heinlein, who was an aeronautical engineer whose fiction started the “hard science fiction” sub-genre.

As a perfectionist, I wanted to learn more about science so that when I wrote my stories they would contain the scientific explanations I craved as a youth. Thus, at 35 I returned to school to earn a bachelor’s degree in physics from Utah State University, followed by a 21 year career at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas.

We’re told to “Write what you know,” right?

If you’re a fan of “The Big Bang Theory” that might look familiar. 😉

My first science fiction novel, “The Capture of Phaethon,” about an asteroid collision with Earth was written while I was in college. It won me a scholarship as well as First Place Honor in a state competition. Maybe someday I’ll get it published. For now, the manuscript is in a box in the basement. Writing Phaethon was when I discovered the mysterious serendipity associated with creating fiction.

That’s all it is, right? Fiction? Something made up in your head?

My fictitious asteroid was named Phaethon, after the son of Apollo who crashed his father’s chariot into the Sun. Imagine my shock when doing research in the USU library’s NASA section that I found an asteroid by that name had recently been discovered! OMG! Later I discovered its usefulness in astrology, where it often indicates a “crash and burn” situation, figuratively or literally.

Heaven on Earth

The first time I set foot inside a library it felt like I was in Heaven. How it feels within the walls of a building lined with thousands upon thousands of books is as unique as it is indescribable. Every cell senses the knowledge and secrets that await, stirring my soul.

That could be why I often spend as much time researching a book as I do writing it, sometimes more. As much as I love my Kindle, for research it has to be a print book. I dog-ear pages, highlight, and leave sticky-notes galore.  When I encounter a used book like that, it tells me someone was really into its content, which is what any author hopes for.

When I wrote the Star Trails Tetralogy I incorporated science and technology problems into the plot. These were books I wanted to read as a youth but couldn’t find. I even created a Compendium with additional information for readers, teachers, and home-schoolers.

Star Trails books were popular in a charter school in Utah among young nerds like I was. I had the privilege of talking to those students a few years ago, which was so much fun. I know of at least one middle school science teacher in Florida who has my books in her classroom for extra credit reading. 

My favorite review for these books is the one where my writing was compared to Robert A. Heinlein. Imagine that! I have no idea how many children may have been inspired by them, but it’s good to know of at least a few.

Shifting Genres

The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon” saga started as a cozy mystery, but my propensity for research quickly led to a far deeper and darker story. My characters got out of hand, as usual, and suddenly I had a main character who was Cheyenne, a culture about which I knew nothing. My encounters with Native Americans was limited, and primarily with the Navajo. Research and serendipity delivered coauthor, Pete Risingsun, who kept the cultural elements on target, to say nothing of the story itself and additional research we did together.

The Reader’s Favorite review for the second book, “Return to Dead Horse Canyon: Grandfather Spirits” noted, to our delight, that “The depth of ethnology packed into both novels is meticulously researched and beautifully detailed. Fox and Risingsun are a dream team with this saga.”

Serendipity was alive and well writing that saga, especially how beautifully ancient ceremonies dove-tailed with the plot as if I’d known about them all along.

What will be lost?

Besides a book’s creative or intellectual content, to me it’s a physical thing. I love how they feel and smell, whether it’s fresh ink newly off the press or a musty antique over a hundred years old. Ebooks just didn’t feel that satisfying. I was grateful when self-publishing a paperback was an option, making it possible to hold my first print book, “Beyond the Hidden Sky,” in my hands and flip through the pages.

However, to me, a real book is a cloth-bound hardback with a dust jacket.

And this past June that dream was finally realized when all three books of the “Dead Horse Canyon” saga were released as hardbacks, laminated covers on Amazon, and real books with a cloth cover and dust jacket available through Ingram which can be found on Barnes and Noble, Books-A-Million (BAM), and numerous other booksellers’ websites.

Everything is being digitized, which is convenient, but I shudder to think that my generation of Baby Boomers may be the last to embrace physical, print books. The expense and storage involved versus the option of digitizing everything leaves no other choice.

Given that, how many will grow up without the joy of holding a brand new release from their favorite author in their hands, much less an autographed copy? Or never know the awe and expectation amid the imposed silence found within a massive library? While the words may be the same, there’s an essence found only from a tome in tangible form. When they’re my age will they miss their first smart phone the way I treasure the memory of those beloved books?

Or maybe that’s just me, an admitted bibliophile, who loves the print medium as much for its physical presence as what lies within. Digital formats that could disappear with a power surge or a few key strokes just aren’t the same. (Probably a thought my children will express loudly when I die and they have to deal with my many bookshelves full, only one of which you see at the top of the page.)

And how much easier might it be to pull the plug on books with content found offensive or declared “wrong” by someone in authority? Where would we be as a civilization without old tablets, scrolls, and other records?

To a bonafide bibliophile like myself digitizing books reeks of sacrilege. If you agree, be sure to buy a physical book once in awhile. Preferably a new one, so the author sees even a few dollars of benefit from it.

Epilogue

When I saw “The Abandoned” and The Tough Winter were still available on Amazon I

literally cried. The book cover for “The Tough Winter” looks exactly like the book I had as a child. I ordered “The Abandoned,” planning to read it again, then leave it as my favorite book from my childhood to whomever wants such an anachronism when I die.  

This trip down memory lane led me to discover my reading list for the remainder of this year. Revisiting those favorites from the perspective of a septuagenarian should be interesting.

What books did you love from the time you could read? What made them special? Would you like to hold them again as you would hug a dear friend you hadn’t seen for years?

And that, no doubt, is why I simply had to order a physical copy of “The Abandoned.”

It arrived a few days later and I cried again, as well as numerous places throughout this sweet story. I wasn’t sure why it hit me so hard until a few days later, as I nursed my way through the worst “Book Hangover” I’d ever had.

Then I stumbled upon a statement on the back cover that I could have written myself: “When I was 9 years old I plucked The Abandoned from my school library’s dusty shelves and fell in love with literature. The adventures that unfolded, reminiscent of The Wind in the Willows and Peter Pan, captured me so thoroughly I knew writing was part of my destiny.” — Naomi Serviss, Newsday

That was it!

This was no ordinary book! It was the very one that made me decide to be a writer! I’d never quite thought of it as my “destiny,” yet it hit me like never before. I don’t know who or what I’d be without those books I’ve had a hand in bringing into the world.

Have they affected any readers out there like The Abandoned did me? I’ll probably never know. But for whatever reason, I suspect I was supposed to put them out there.


Are you a writer? When did you realize it was your calling? Or was it just something that came along at some point in your life when you had something to say? Fiction or nonfiction? Leave your answer in the comments below.

One Determined Bluebird

You can learn a lot about a person, including yourself, by looking at your thumb. Yes, that side-mounted digit that enables humans and primates to do things other animals can’t. According to palmistry, the upper joint represents will and the lower joint, logic. Ideally, they’re the same size. If so, you’ll have the will to put forth the effort to see your ideas to completion.

If the top joint (will) is larger (which is the case with me), your will/determination is stronger than your ability to see things logically. What does that mean? You’re likely to be inclined to beat a dead horse.

If the lower joint prevails, you may have a plethora of great ideas but lack the will to make them happen.

Obviously, a bird does not have a thumb. However, if the bluebird attacking my window had one, clearly the top joint would prevail.

Why is he attacking my window?

cat  inside looking at a bird outside the window

Because I have two indoor cats. Apparently, he and his mate have a nest in the purple martin house in the front yard and he’s concerned.

So let’s think about this.

As I said, the felines in question are “indoor cats.” They do not go outside. Thus, the danger does not exist.

So far, this daddy bird has been attacking my windows since yesterday afternoon. After a few hours of the thumping sound of him hitting the window, I closed the curtains. He still continued until dark. First thing this morning, right around dawn (which comes early this time of year, i.e. 5:30 a.m.) he was at it again.

bird perched on the trunk of a tree

Thump, thump, thump.

The odds are (hopefully) very low that the cat or bird will break the window in their ongoing confrontation. If the barrier between them were removed, the cat is the definite favorite. It’s not that far to the ground, so then he’d have a definite opportunity to pursue the bird. Would the bird retreat? Or attempt to fight?

I have two cats who have entirely different views of the situation. My tuxedo cat, who is female and a very good mouser, is also around twelve years old. She found it amusing, but after awhile returned to her napping. However, my ragdoll/Maine coon male, who’s a little over a year old, is thoroughly enjoying the show.

Most the time he just lays there, watching the bird with a bemused expression. Occasionally, he’ll lunge for the window, but no telling what his expectations are.

cat looking out a window

As the assault continues I wondered: Is this bird a spirit animal with a message? While perseverance is usually a virtue, when it becomes an exercise in futility, then what? And at what point do you know it’s a battle you’ll never win? When do you know it’s time to walk away?

There are various quotes and  a couple poems that have encouraged me not to give up. The simplest is, not surprisingly, on my wall: “Never give up! Never surrender!” from the movie Galaxy Quest. Another favorite is: “Aiming for the stars and dragging your feet in the treetops is better than aiming for the treetops and dragging your feet in the mud.” (Anonymous)

Here’s my favorite poem, which has seen me through various challenges:

 Good Timber

by Douglas Malloch.

The tree that never had to fight
     For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
     And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
     But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil
     To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
     Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
     But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease,
     The stronger wind, the stronger trees,
The further sky, the greater length,
     The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
     In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth
     We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
     Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
     This is the common law of life.

Douglas Malloch. “Good Timber.” Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/good-timber-by-douglas-malloch

Here’s another favorite:

Keep Going

By Edgar A. Guest

same bluebird perched in the crotch of a tree

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must—but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow—
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out—
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit—
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.

Edgar A. Guest. “Keep Going.” Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/keep-going-by-edgar-guest

same bluebird sitting on the windowsill looking inside.

So, given that, when do you give up?

I’m in the midst of a project that may very well be a little too similar to that determined daddy bird valiantly defending his family.

Should I give up?

If so, when? At what point have I done enough?

I have never been able to figure that out.

Let’s just say I feel better about myself beating a dead horse than quitting. I usually land in the treetops, but I’ve never wound up in the mud.

cat parting curtains with his paw to look outside

How about you?

Take a look at your thumb. Do the joints line up with your natural inclination when confronted with what could be an insurmountable challenge? Are you a tree dweller or confined to the ground?

Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments below.

Meanwhile, I need to get back to work.

P.S. It’s been quiet outside for quite awhile. I just hope he figured it out and I don’t find a dead bluebird outside my window…

Never mind. He’s back.