And, WHY does the prospect of my own little dog & pony show elicit such excitement from me, causing my adrenal gland and nervous system to exult ? Because: (a.) it's new; (b.) I have no expectations, except my 3R's, which are my pledges to Rant, Ramble, and include (w)Ritings from my past, present, and future novels & projects; and c.) I love change which, yes, duplicates my (a.) reason, so please just play along and pretend I gave you the preferred number of three reasons to substantiate my enthusiasm for writing this blog-thingy-whatchamacallit you're perusing presently.
Your first question might be: Who in tar nation are you, ANYWAY? Who among any of us really knows for sure... who I am? (Well, besides my creator.) And my second parenthetical phrase in a row gets the double pairs of ( )s treatment: ((Note of Fact, NOT Opinion: Auto-correct is a demonic entity set loose to terrorize scribes, authors, and writers in general... everywhere. So, For Your Information, Der AutoKorrect Fuhrer: There is no 'tar nation' found in anyone's dictionary, but there IS and has been an entry for 'tarnation' with no unnecessary space in the middle at least a century or more before Granny of Beverly Hillbillies fame invoked it on a regular, sometimes weekly, basis.
Bloggy Peeps Only: ((( Didn't you just love the Grand Granny of Goofiness?))) All I can say in tribute is this one compliment: May you always rest in peace, Granny Clampett actress and comic genius Irene Dunne: You made Granny come to life and be forever etched in our consciousness as the iconic feisty, scrappy, uninhibited, unfiltered, tough-as-a-hellcat hell always on black combat boots, even with her nightgown. May you rest in Heaven and not in.........Tarnation (with NO space after 'tar,' by the way).
But, dearest audience, the one purpose I wish to pursue in this new-to-me platform is writing to be read...by a readership preferably, but not necessarily or exclusively, human. (After all, who am I - a remarkably lifelike human myself - to stifle an ambitious non human or a robot brimming with A.I. striving to read and hopefully digest my writing blog's contents? No, I'm very dedicated to PROTECTING THE RIGHTS OF ALL BEINGS, be they mythical, therefore non-existent beings - Zombies, Easter Bunnies, Santa Clauses, werewolves of London or elsewhere, vampires, trolls, Leprechauns, or especially Homosapiens with mythical, therefore non-existent genders, especially if they read this blog, enjoy it, tell all their mythical, non-existent friends, and - most importantly for me - PURCHASE MY NOVELS (AVAILABLE THRU AMAZON, KINDLE, and through Yours Truly.
So, while I ruminate about which topic to address for my second blog and how many plugs for my own books I should allow myself to run in each of my future blogs, let this first post be perhaps your introduction to my writing and myself as well. So....... I began writing later in life than most (but solely for an audience consisting of my wife and our invisible friend Betty Lou for a decade, until Betty Lou Carew, the shrew, and blew... to where, we never knew. Boy, were we blue.
And when did exactly did I begin writing? Twenty-five years ago, while apart from my wife for the purpose of moving us from the hot, dry, windy desert valley where I grew up to relocating us to the greener, stiller, rainier climes of Lake County - a geopolitical area in California I'd neither known nor visited before my interview for a school-counseling job at one of its combination high / middle schools on June 1, 1993 for the next school year.
If any of y'all haven't driven through this perhaps still-anonymous town of 5,000 residents on Highway 29, I'll assist. I once called the pine treed, lake view, quaint, rustic town, but only in private. Back then, I dubbed it 'Mayberry on Drugs,' but I don't know if that sobriquet (a fancy, usually pretentious word of French origin meaning 'nickname') still applies today. I know it did then.
The drug of choice in that beatific locale (with the cleanest air of any county in the Golden State) was crystal methamphetamine, commonly known as 'Crack' or 'Meth.' Crystal meth was later immortalized on the cult TV hit series 'Breaking Bad,' a program, like blogging, I know little to nothing about.
I'll admit the ONLY reason I began writing that year was because it kept me out of some potentially dangerous circumstances (called by my family 'shenanigans'). I mean, check it out, okay? Here I was, an eager beaver educator of 39 turning 40, who didn't want to end up on the police log of the twice-weekly local newspaper for being a participant, victim, or innocent bystander in a bar fight. So, instead of frequenting the town's only tavern without my wife by my side, I chose to write a thinly disguised account of my Lake County experience in my two job sites, around this unidentified town, in my neighborhood, at my cool little church next to the town's only laundromat; and basically everywhere else, including the spot out on the highway near a state forest where folks would fill their water jugs from a non-stop stream of the freshest mineral water that was ever tasted. (In order to save $$$, I once a week schlepped two or three, five-gallon poly-carbon water jugs with spigoted sides to the spot near the national forest named after a famous novelist with three names. (If you don't get that clue, then... I will understand and won't blame you in the least. I only knew the name because I passed the sign to and from the Napa Valley township of Calistoga from this Mayberry-like village. (Please, people, never accuse me of not furnishing you with enough clues to answer my Blogly Quiz - as opposed to daily, weekly, or monthly quizzes.)
So, my Bloggees, I invite you all to stop by and check out what's in and on my mind. Who knows? It might be a revelation for all of us.
And, while you're online, please check out my Facebook page, "Patrick Rowlee's Books," along with my Amazon author page. (Just type my full name into the Amazon browser and check out my five novels.)
My baby novels' titles are, youngest to eldest: THE TALISMAN EFFECT, HE PLAYS LIKE COBB, BLACKBALLED, VARRICK'S DISTURBANCES, and my oldest child in print, TWO FACES TO NO ONE, written soon after my year in "Oblivion, California" two and a half decades ago.
And last and never least, TWENTY OR MORE PERCENT of my books' profits have and will continue to fund legitimate nonprofit organizations helping kids both in the United States of America and abroad. (For instance, BLACKBALLED has generated funds since 2011 to E.R.M., a Rwandan nonprofit assisting the survivors - widows, children, and other family of the ONE MILLION Tutsi nation - mostly men - slaughtered in 1997 by the Rwandan government.)
All my books help fund nonprofits assisting children considered "the least of these" - the abused, homeless, or foster kids needing extra assistance, and any other type of kiddo needing or receiving help from any bonafide nonprofit changing children's lives for the better.
So, 'til next time, friends, this is Yours Truly signing off. Be good to yourself, everyone else, and never neglect to eat your vegetables, floss regularly, and help those who can't help themselves. A good life is a simple life.
Shalom, Blessings, and Ciao for Now,
Patrick R. Rowlee
