Only Love Posted on September 10, 2014 by Billy Ray Chitwood


                                                                                       Only Love

Love is a word that is loosely thrown around in our world today…guess that’s okay because it is difficult to see how the word can be used in a pejorative way unless someone is using it like a gun or knife in a psychopathic or sociopathic way.

We take for granted comments like, “I love the way that movie played out!” or “I love this book!” or “I love this juicy apple!” or “I love football!” We all get the connotation when ‘love’ is invoked in this way. Very few among us would disagree that love is a most special word, a short formation of letters that goes a long way in expressing our innermost emotions for a human being, a pet, or…

Love as a noun occupies a much loftier position than the verb, in my most humble opinion. The word is in many ways sacrosanct – sacred and on the same plane as faith. “The love of God” generally conveys “faith in God” and becomes juxtaposed with our souls and theology. We can wish as a nation and as a world that this love was more encompassing and endearing.

Of course, the most emotional, exciting, exhilarating, and physically orgasmic is the love between a man and a woman, yet, not exclusively, as our world assuredly now knows of ‘same sex’ harmonious relationships. With no wish to alienate or doubt its verity and because I am most definitely hetero, I confine these comments to ‘man/woman’.

I have known those exquisite moments of love when a kiss launches me into a mad swirl of feverish passion, when all senses are focused on but one space in time, on a delirious and delicious hunger. I have known those moments when love is not with me, when I sit alone, feel the pangs of loneliness, write my lines of dubious poetry to the one who occupies my heart and mind. I have known those moments when love is threatened by insecurity and jealousy, when doubt finally leaves and I drink once more from the sweet chalice of love’s reuniting. I have alas known love’s withdrawal and the long weeks and months of despair, only to find again another coupling of hearts.

Love both blinds and gives us light. Love is one journey or it is many, and those who know of what I speak well know that, true to that soaring pursuit, it will ultimately come to spend a lifetime with us.

Love and Faith can bring gentle measures of equanimity and peace to a wayward heart and soul.

Though we can use love as our verbs, my preference is the noun. As with Faith, without love, we can be lost.

NOW, why have I briefly written about love and faith?

Two reasons, the first, innocuous enough, I hope…I simply wanted to write about love and faithbecause they have been so much a part of my life – superfluously, among other abstract notions. The second, rather selfish, I’m afraid… You see, I have written a romance novel which is not the typical romance novel. It has love, faith, of course, and it also has murder, mystery, and suspense.

The novel is called, Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story. Don’t let the title fool you. It is my belief that ‘romance’ readers will find it to their liking – at least, that is my hope. I have shared my internet marketing ineptness in previous posts, and it’s my feeling this book should sell very well…hopefully, you will prove me right. If you do read Butterflies and Jellybeans, please tell a friend about it and/or write a review on Amazon.

                                                                                          BUY SITES:

                                                                             Amazon US – goo.gl/A2p0qL

                                                                            Amazon UK – goo.gl/nQ5ceF

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

http://twitter.com (@brchitwood)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

http://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

http://goodreads.com/author/dashboard

Feel free to leave a comment.

Posted on August 28, 2014 by Billy Ray Chitwood


                                                                   Was Einstein Right?

“I fear the day that technology will surpass our human interaction. The world will have a generation of idiots.”

Okay, perhaps it is natural that an aging crustacean (as in ‘Crab’!) like me should be writing a post like this…you know how we are: grumpy, bitching and moaning about this and about that. But, know what? We have never been here in this place!

This place?

This place in the chronology of humankind! This place where cell phones are accessories to killing people on our streets…this place where a romantic dinner is interrupted by the musical chime-ring of the latest ‘carry along do-it-all’ world data gatherer and communication gadget that everyone just has to have – sort of like the past when we tried to keep up with the Jones or Smiths…this place where the intellectually informed folks who maybe ought to know what is happening in their country and world are not making the rounds so much…this place where the new games on these weirdly-wired gadgets show the blood and gore of our imaginary kills…

You know this place of which I speak, and, yes, technology has its upside – the dictionary is there in your pocket or your purse to check the big word someone used while trying to impart something boring and unimportant.  That little gadget can allow you to really blast someone you do not like, call her/him names, make threatening and obscene remarks, and you can even do it anonymously. What a sweet deal! You can be the bully without getting punched in the nose!

Oh, there are a few who are not so addicted to this great technology of ours that they have time to see armies clashing around the world…they have time to see the ineptness of our own government in forming goals and objectives for countering the new world of terrorists – or, should I be politically correct and say ‘radical Islamists’? Well, you know of whom I speak, those creepy crawling bugs that have been around for thousands of years spewing their hatred and genocidal actions, vowing to kill all infidels and to rule the world… Yes, those of you playing your monster games, these terrorists are infiltrating our countries, our cities, and the minds of their youth, finding it easier and easier to corrupt and dislodge great historical principles and wisdom, ‘shredding’ documents and laws by which generic man has lived in hope and security.

We have made a few blunders in our living… We have given too much to those who would wish us harm and death. We have misread the tea-leaves of history too often. We have made noble efforts to make our country and the world a better place. Despite our blunders, we are the bold and the good of everyman. Are we now to somehow prove to the world we were frauds in our ideals? Damned tootin! I’m talking about America, the greatest nation on earth. We all thought that was the case. Are we not still? All countries in the world look toward our shores, many relying on us not only for support, monetary and otherwise, in their times of crises.

We got to this place somehow, maybe through all the doubling and re-doubling of knowledge that brought us tremendous growth in technology – and those cursed chatty cell phones…wonderful inventions but easy substitutes for our real selves. Scientific knowledge and technology are good but it seems in so many ways we are making them bad. This place in which we find ourselves can be very scary and depressing. We need government leaders of grand vision and wisdom who can ignite that greatness that I felt and saw during the greatest generation, leaders who do the peoples’ business without posturing and wavering with the tools Science and Technology have provided. We do not have to stay in this place! We need to kill the ‘terrorist bugs’ that are attempting to fulfill their ‘virginal’ quests.   

We might find Einstein was partially right in his observation…but, idiots, we are not, even those using the cell phones, playing their games and forgetting how to socialize without cell phone messaging.

We are, after all, the United States of America. As our English brethren might intone in Winston Churchill’s fashion, “Let’s show these buggers what we have!”

By Billy Ray Chitwood 

A Common Evil - MY NEW BOOK!

Amazon Worldwide – http://authl.it/1r2

Yes, I’m bad! Plugging my new book – the sixth and likely the final book in the Bailey Crane Mystery Series. Each of the books in the series stand alone… Really, shouldn’t you read these books? They’re fun reads, and Bailey always gets the bad guys! All twelve of my books (mystery, suspense, romance, memoir, politics, government) are presented on http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood 

Animal CloudsPosted on July 31, 2014 by Billy Ray Chitwood


                                                                               Animal Clouds

Okay, too much time on my hands, you say! Really, do we ever have enough time? It was only yesterday I was a young man ‘courting the girls’ when my ‘young man’s fancy lightly turned to thoughts of love’. Time has taken those wonderful moments away from me, yes, but it has given me a love, comfortable and serene. Or, is it that my dotage has made it so much easier for my mind to wildly ponder the unrealities of life? Or, is it that my cleverness lives only in a return to childhood? That seems an inconsistent thought when one foot is already inside the boat that gives passage to the River Styx.

Animal Clouds, indeed!

Today, I write and find a multitude of ‘fancies’ as subjects for my pen – well, the laptop, if you must! Today, as I gaze out upon a sunny day with clouds drifting by as if on parade, I make of the shapes animals of all kinds…there’s a boar kneeling in prayer…there, a heavily plumed fowl stretched full out and zipping along with the wind…above the fowl, there’s a huge turtle creeping by the lovely blue background.

Actually, I’m procrastinating! I’m writing my thirteenth book, a saga about my saintly grandfather, his family’s turbulent emigration in 1885 from the Canton of Bern, Switzerland as his fetus lay curled in the tummy of his mother. Well, perhaps it is not to be a saga – don’t know if I have a saga in me, perhaps a mini-saga if there be such a thing. Through the genealogical channels, my wife has found a very interesting life of the man I loved very much as a child. There is of course love, two lovely sisters vying for his troth, his devotion and loyalty. There is madness, literally, as my grandfather’s mother spends much of her life in a mental institution. There is murder, suicide, and all sorts of interesting turns and twists in his life, so I shall make it into a fictional novel that will contain much factual information. After all, there is much that my novel mind must create.

So, I procrastinate, take a break from the longer form of writing to hallucinate and enjoy the circuitous routes the synapses dictate.

Should you wish to form your own animals from the scudding clouds, do not use mine…be proper and original with your laptop. If there is some other wild writing trip you wish to take, turn to any page in the dictionary and pick a word with which you’re not familiar…you can then amaze us blog lovers with the profundity of your wisdom – ahem, as I have here…

‘Tongue in cheek’ time over, I’m back to my saintly grandfather.

Oh, one last thing, I do have twelve books of mystery, suspense, romance, memoir, politics that really need to be read…consider them lonely for attention, words and phrases ‘just looking for a home’. Books have ‘feelings’, too, you know!

Might I suggest one (or, all) of my six ‘Bailey Crane Mysteries’ – some inspired by true crime?

If ‘Romance’ is your staple, my Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story will answer your call, plus add a dash of suspense (don’t let the title fool you).

If you want the hard reality of evil in our world, try my Mama’s Madness (fiction from truth) OR The Reluctant Savage (romance, mayhem, murder) OR my brand NEW thriller A Common Evil.

 Memoirs of my sordid and wonderful life might interest you. The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son and What Happens Next? A Life’s True Tale.

Finally, you can determine whether or not you truly hate me or like me by reading Joe Public’s Political Perspective, a ‘rant and rave’ about government – yes, I had to open my mouth, or, in this case, my laptop! Don’t know if I have it right but the thoughts come from an honest place.

All these books are on my personal website – http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com – just scan the home page after the short bio section. Really, could you just start something ‘viral’ for me? The books are entertaining and non-convoluted – I would not know how to make a book too complicated!

Now you’ve seen the begging and crass side of me after getting your attention with animals in the clouds.

Next week, I promise to behave!

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://twitter.com (@brchitwood)

http://goodreads.com/author/dashboard

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

http://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

http://linkedin.com (Billy Ray Chitwood)

Feel free to comment. My best wishes.

Meet Author Billy Ray Chitwood - Posted on June 19, 2014 by billyraychitwood


                                  Meet Author, Billy Ray Chitwood

                               NEW BOOK COMING: Mid-July, 2014

                           A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery

[The following comments from a husband standing behind his wife as she reads a blog post]

“Okay, know what I’m thinking… I would never read an author who can’t get a bowtie correctly in place on his tuxedo.

“My next thought is… What’s the guy doing in a tuxedo? Authors don’t make the kind of money to be wearing tuxedos. They walk around in smelly shoes, jeans, and soiled t-shirts. This guy’s after something… Got to be careful here!

“Look at the guy! He’s got a smug know-it-all half-smile and bags under his eyes – probably an alcoholic or an insomniac. He’s looking like he’s God’s gift to literature! Give me a break. These author-people – what? Maybe a hundred million of them? And they all think they can sneak up on us with their words and phrases, make us fans, pay enormous prices for their fancy-covered books, and make them millionaires.

“What! The guy’s written twelve books… I’ve played Texas Hold’em twelve times and won one hundred grand. Big freaking deal!

“Six books in his ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ and he’s saying some of them are inspired by true events… Yeah, I’m sure! His new book: A Common Evil… what kind of title is that for a book? Supposed to turn us on? The guy knows the world thrives on murder and mayhem – he’s likely trying for a movie deal. Hey, he’s got a chance! It’s about murder and Mexican cartels. They’re in the news.

“The guy’s even written a romance novel, two more mysteries, two memoirs, and a political rant and rave… Bet money the guy’s a right-wing zealot! He just looks the type. Ah, he is, see what he says right there?”

Finally, the wife has had it. “Will you finish your diatribe? I happen to like this author’s writing style and I find what he has to say very interesting. Go slobber down another beer, Fred. At least, that will keep you in the bathroom most of the evening.”

“Touchy, touchy, Wilma! So, one question before I leave you alone… What’s this guy’s writing style you’re so excited about?”

“Would not expect you to understand, Fred, but I’ll try… His style embodies the elements I like in writing. He’s not convoluted in his plots. He is not afraid to show his emotional side and he loves his wife. He stays focused on his plot but muses about life’s idiosyncratic turns and twists, and I suspect he puts quite a lot of himself into his books. He is in some ways a polymath.”

“Well, if you’re going to use your big words, I’m outta here. Let me know when the author has left the room.”

                                                           Billy Ray Chitwood – June 19, 2014

Happy to have your comment if inclined…

http://www.about.me/brchitwood (Bio)

http://www.billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My books/Blog/Reviews)

http://twitter.com (@brchitwood)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

http://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

http://www.goo.gl/M52bQd – LinkedIn

https://www.goodreads/author/dashboard

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN – My bio and books)

http://www.amazon.com/author/billyraychitwood (Author Page)

         

                           The Beginning of a Book Launch

                 A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery (Book 6)

                               Authored by Billy Ray Chitwood

The Beginning of a book launch?

First, an admission, I’ve never been very good at my own book launches. With this book, I would really like to get it as right as I possibly can. You see, I think my previous eleven books, five of them part of ‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’, are very good books – there are aside from ‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ a romance-suspense novel, two other mystery-suspense novels, and two memoirs. Some of these fictional books are inspired by true stories.

The truth is the manuscripts of some ‘Bailey Crane’ books sat and gathered dust for a few years before I cleaned them up, rewrote and edited them. Then, the books were published one after the other without any fanfare, without reviews, and put on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk. In short, I did no pre-launch, very little social networking, and tried to catch up by tweeting like crazy – it was not a professional marketing effort at all. Good Twitter followers, LinkedIn, Google Plus, and Facebook friends supported as best they could. Ergo, the sales never kept up with the hopes.

Look, I’m a humble guy and understand that my writing style might not please everyone. I do inject some musings, dabs of humor, and some diversionary little bits here and there, but I know the books are good, some close to damned good, have great characters and plot lines. I also know that there are millions of readers and books, so it behooves me to start doing something right in launching/marketing my books.

So, with this twelfth book, A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery (Book 6), I’m after some folks reviewing the book prior to publication, designing a dynamite cover, blogging some sample sections, tweeting, using Facebook, LinkedIn, and other platforms. I want to make sure that every best effort is made to make this book and all my books known to the reading public with the strongest launch effort I’ve ever attempted.

‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ are books that can stand alone, but the progression in age and circumstance of the central character, Bailey Crane, is evident book to book… One side note, one ‘Bailey Crane’ manuscript was lost in all my wandering – it was a book titled “Stranger Abduction” (it was to be Book 2 in the series – “Satan’s Song” is now in that position). “SA” was about a mother and daughter gone missing from Arizona who were never found (based on true events). As each book stands alone, the only missing elements with no “SA” have to do with some of Bailey’s personal life. I have searched everywhere I know to search for the missing manuscript, and, if it’s ever found it will be published.

So, now I have honestly shared with you my ineptness in launching my books and what I hope for in a new invigorated launch attempt. Now, here is a brief description of A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery (Book 6)…

Bailey Crane and wife Wendy have retired to a small fishing village in Mexico, living the good life in a most beautiful resort – a penthouse no less. Early one pre-dawn morning gunshots ring out at the resort and Black Hawk helicopters swoop in from the sea. Thus begins another adventure for Bailey. Several cartel people die in the ‘sting’ operation at the resort, most notably one of the more notorious cartel leaders. In many respects Bailey is partially responsible for the raid as the story will report, forcing him and his wife to reflect on safety issues and other living quarters.

Wendy will be kidnapped, and Bailey will be frantic in his attempts to find and rescue her. Bailey will have an emotional desert experience like no other experience he has ever faced. Other bad guys will be killed while the Mexican government and the principal Cartel boss attempt a coup of sorts. There is an abundance of romance, mystery, suspense in this book about corruption and evil, and the ending will come where the Sonoran desert meets at an estuary and the beautiful Sea of Cortez.

Next week I will share some of Bailey’s narrative in the book, perhaps have a cover design for your preview and acceptance.

Now I’m off to find some reviewers for A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery (Book 6). If anyone reading this blog would like to give me a review, just contact me at the Twitter link below. Please include your e-mail address. Thank you.

                                                                Billy Ray Chitwood – June 12, 2014

Your comments are welcome.

http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

http://www.about.me/brchitwood (Bio)

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My personal website – Books – Reviews – Blogs)

https://linkedin.com/nhome/ 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard – Goodreads (My books – Blog – Reviews)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood andhttp://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN – Independent Author Network – Bio – My books)

        

Writing Therapy - Posted on June 6, 2014 by billyraychitwood


                                           Writing Therapy

Unless your brains and emotions have been so scrambled that you’re hopelessly lost and unable to vent in any form, try writing as therapy. Who knows, you could save thousands of dollars in psych office visits…

Take me, for example, those who occupy psych offices are loony types – he says rather tongue in cheek but not without respect. Me, I write books and blogs for my therapy and my thought is I might use this space to describe what it is my words and phrases are trying to convey.

My writing first and foremost is hopefully entertaining and connecting with some kindred souls. There is no formula that I use for writing – I simply take off and hope in the end it all makes some sense. Sure, I try to build a cohesive story, mixed with some interesting characters, some philosophical meandering, and a dash of humor. There was a time when I taught ‘Advanced Writing’ and I’m the first to admit that my style probably defies all the rules of good story-telling…you know, the ‘big bang beginning’, the sustaining plot and sub-plots, the unforgettable characters, the action, or, the ‘mesmerizing middle’, and the ‘bigger bang ending’. Don’t get me wrong, I try for these good elements and to one degree or another make them.

Where I likely deviate a bit from rules is my subconscious need to ‘diarize’, to inject so much of me into the narrative and out of the characters’ mouths. You see, I really want to write something most worthy but I have a selfish motive… I want to see if I can find pieces of me that give me a better sense of my life and times. We have all begun somewhere, been delivered to this place or that place, and have our scars to show for the life experiences. Me, I’ve always been an incurable romantic, a risk taker, not so much a multi-task type of guy, more interested in finding and evaluating all the variables in my journey, finding the reasons for this action and/or event.

So, through the made-up characters and the stories (even those inspired by true events) I’m hoping to get a better handle on me. The dialogues and the personalities are my inventions, and somewhere there on the lines and between the lines, am I. There is no question about my writing ability. Humbly, I believe it good to excellent – given a careless mistake here and there. The story will be simple and compelling…interesting but with some digression here and there. The books I’ve written are like the wanderlust author who penned them – hobos looking for a place to settle…but, then, hobos don’t look to settle, methinks.

I’m envious of those good folks who live in the same house, city, community, town for most if not all of their lives… I’ve lived in some beautiful places over my journey and part of me wishes I had never left some of those places. Like now, I’m living in a magnificent home with a bluff view across the valley on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee, and, guess what, I’m getting antsy for another move.

Therapy? Hey, I’ve got to do a lot of writing! 

One more thing… I’m finishing up my twelfth book titled “A Common Evil” – The setting is a small fishing village on The Sea of Cortez in Mexico. It is the sixth and final book of my ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ and possibly the best. “A Common Evil” stands alone as do all the books in the ‘Bailey Crane Series’ and there are some musings in the book taken from my experiences while living in this fishing village by the sea. Actually, I can say the book was inspired by some actual events that took place in the very resort where I lived. All the books in the ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ are quick and simple reads that will attest to my claims in this blog post. Obviously, I hope you will read “A Common Evil’ and the rest of the ‘Bailey Crane Mysteries’ — you will find me on and between the lines in each and every book. LOOK FOR IT – COMING SOON!

Thank you for taking time to read “A Common Evil’ when it is available – and any of my novels and/or memoirs now available at links below. If you enjoy one of my books, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend. 

Billy Ray Chitwood – June 6, 2014

Please leave a comment if so inclined. Thank you and best wishes.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (Bio – My books – Reviews – Blog)

https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard – Goodreads (My books – Blog – Reviews)

http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood) – Follow me

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood & http://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN – Independent Author Network – Bio – My books)

         

Who Am I?Posted on April 4, 2014 by billyraychitwood1


                      Who Am I?

Who am I?

Not a terribly original question, perhaps one that is often asked over the course of one’s life. What got me to thinking about the question are the genres in which I write my books – mystery (some inspired by true events), romance, bio/memoir, political thought. So much of my writing deals with the underbelly of life, the bad elements in our society, the really evil and ugly people who live among us – fictionally or in fact. It must be my admission that at times it bothers me that I focus my writing so much on a salacious news report about someone being sexually assaulted, people being horribly murdered, an awful pedophile hurting or killing our children, or some dark and greedy enterprise. Another aspect relative to the question is my concern that the books I have written are not necessarily going viral.

Don’t mind me. I feel that much of my life has been spent in introspection, analyzing myself as I lie awake in the night, as I drive the open road, as I view television or a sad movie, even in the middle of a conversation. It’s my way of trying to piece together another part that is unknown to me. Maybe in some sort of loose and nebulous nexus I’m creating everyman, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The way I’m built, the crazy DNA I carry inside, does cause me concern. So much emotion and mobility in my early building stages account for the calculus here. I’ve always been drawn to the action, crime, drama, mystery, and suspense of the big screen or tube. My wife loves comedies and musicals, the ‘Hallmark Movies’, and neatly trimmed family adventures. I started out loving cowboy movies, then graduated to the more fast-paced ‘True Lies’ and ‘Jesse Stone’ types. That’s all okay for different likes and dislikes. There’s a spiritual part of me that nudges me now and then to write something wholesome, like a strong Christian story with an uplifting theme for all ages… Hopefully, one day I shall satisfy that nudge.

If you had not noticed, I’m rambling and trying to figure an apt finish to this post.

Here it is.

I’m doing all this word vacillation when it comes down really to this. There is a lot of me in what I write, in the characters I create, and in the plots. There is fun in the penning of my tales, and I experiment with my writing. There are times when I organize a book – in my fashion – and there are times when I simply allow the characters to take me where it is they want to go… This is likely to make a ‘writing purist’ cringe. For me, the process of writing can take any form a person wishes. The readers ultimately will decide whether or not our writing efforts are worthy.

That brings me to the final point of this post.

Writing is enough for me, the process itself…most of the time. Believing I’m under no delusions of grandeur, I truly feel my words are strung together well and tell compelling stories. I get some 5-Star reviews here and there which make me jubilant. Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn are used daily and perhaps for some, ad nauseam. I admit to a certain ineptness in this digital world, but I’m doing so many things to get people to read my books. Apparently, I’m not doing nor am I capable of doing some of the things I need to be doing. An old man (me) dusted off some manuscripts, rewrote, edited them, wrote several new books along the way, and self-published them. My first ‘Bailey Crane Mystery’ (“Probable Cause”) was picked up by a publisher, eventually went out of print – that book is now “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery” Book One. There are five ‘Bailey Crane’ books in the series – the original book two manuscript (“Stranger Abduction”) was done on a StarWriter word processor and the manuscript was lost during one of my mobility moments…still not found. Thus, there are five ‘Bailey Crane’ books in lieu of six.

The final point is taking longer than expected.

The mistake was made, I believe, in coming out with so many books in such a short period of time. There were no ‘launching parties’ for the books, no book tours, and there was very little internet plugging. Add to that, I’m no longer a young man who can keep the pace of author book signings, events of one kind or another, or other vital networking avenues. So, the end point is this: my books are good, and I would like to see them in the hands of readers. Yes, writing is enough for me most of the rime, but I do get hungry for reader reaction. Like most authors, I hope for some gratification. My books are bought too infrequently, and I am at a loss to find some magic buttons to push… Of course, I could turn the books over to someone specializing in all phases of marketing, but that of course is costly.

I just finished a KDP giveaway of five of my books for five days (likely, should have been one book instead of five). It looks like some seven hundred total all books were given away during that time, with much tweeting, much Facebook activity, much Goodreads and LinkedIn activity, with my weekly blog announcing the giveaway.

Baring one’s soul is perhaps foolhardy and senseless, but there it is.

What you need to do, kind followers of my blog, other than commiserating, is to start a viral situation with my books…having not the foggiest idea of how you will do that. Do not worry if you fall short of doing either, the commiserating or the viral thing, you will still have me doing a weekly blog, valuing you – and still writing my books, flash fiction, poems, songs, and short stories.

Incidentally, if you have any idea of ‘who I am’ please let me know in the ‘comment’ section.

Here are various links to my books and me.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (My books on IAN – Independent Author Network)

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My main website/blog and my books w/some reviews)

Follow me on http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood andhttp://facebook.com/billyrayscorner (‘fan’ and ‘like’ page w/updates)

https://www.linkedin.com/nhome/

http://thefinalcurtain1.wordpress.com (The origination blog site of all my posts)

Please leave a comment if so inclined.

        

Some Notes On My Writing Posted on March 29, 2014 by billyraychitwood1

                                  Some Notes on My Writing

Words have always fascinated me, individually and the way they can be strung together. For me there’s a certain magic that takes place when I write something that brings echoes from the soul, brings tears or makes me laugh. Writing a blog or a book is an incredible adventure of fingers tapping keys on a blank screen page. From where do the words come, these signals from the heart and the mind?

Quite often I open the blank whiteness of ‘Word’ and only have some simple words to tap on the screen. For example, I dabbled during my more youthful days in acting, stage, and did some television commercials. In a recent blog, I thought the words, ‘Action! Camera!’ Without yet a title for the blog, I allowed the two words to take me on a short ‘flash fiction’ ride, creating the story as I went along. The title in the end became ‘Love and Consequence’. In reading the piece several times I was surprised to find that multiple summations could be made about the post relative to life and its many crossroads.

Again, from where do the words come?

This might not astound or surprise anyone who reads my blogs, but I believe that some of us are endowed with a special talent for creating strings of words that arouse the soul to deliver a moving story, to amuse, anger, bewilder, entertain, inspire, intimidate, terrify. Are we thus endowed by virtue of our life sources, our environment, our genetic programming? Is it as Alfred Lord Tennyson conveyed in ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ – “Theirs not to reply / Theirs not to reason why / Theirs but to do and die…”? We are all, of course, marching into the valley of death! But, let’s delay that event and thought for as long as our lives’ purposes allow.

Words and writing are marvelous gifts. Some authors distinguish themselves for their moments in the bright light are timely and their words find an eager audience. Other authors are anguished by rejection slips and their moments come late or not at all. While a jovial and sane person I perhaps would not honor my words, my blogs, my books with Tennyson, Tolstoy, Grisham, Hemingway type praise, but they are good words, good blogs, good books, and worthy of reading. Even I will pick up one of my books on occasion, try to divorce my authorship, read it and find enjoyment from that reading. Sure, I might perchance find a typo or some minor error missed in editing, but it does not dismiss the book’s validity. Sure, add to that a bit of ego and pride… I’m not immune.

If it is folly and I fool myself, so be it…there is immense joy in the penning process. It is enough for me that readers and authors I respect find my stories good enough to earn their 5-Stars. With the positive reviews or without them I am officially a slave to the pecking of laptop keys and will continue until there are no pecks left. However, there is no hiding the fact that an author wishes to be recognized.

My writing is a necessary ingredient in my life these days. Age at times bids me quit my trifling typing on the laptop keys, but I say nay and fill my days with writing. At times there are songs, poetry, flash fiction, short stories, and full-length books. There, in that lofty solitude, I stay young and vibrant. My heroes and heroines fight their good fights, and there is musing on and between the lines of what I write…particularly with my five ‘Bailey Crane Mysteries’, several of which were inspired by true life events. (In fact, as a side note, there were to be six ‘Bailey Crane Mysteries’ — “A Stranger Abduction” is missing — but, with all my moving about, the second manuscript was lost and has not been found. While each book can be read independently it grieves me that some of Bailey’s musings and life situations are not included in the series, enough, however, that your picture of the man will be quite clear.) So be it! As I was saying, I try to capture in my books that vitality and youth, once mine for real, on the blank screens of ‘Word’, present the finished product to an audience I hope might forget for those moments of reading the trivial pursuits of a man in Twilight.

One area of my neglect has been in marketing my books… After all, like any author, I wish to be read. I’ve admittedly been rather inept in this digital world, trying to figure ways to promote myself, making many mistakes. Basically, I’ve been a Tweeter/Re-tweeter fool, have likely not availed myself of the proper use of Facebook, LinkedIn, other no doubt valuable platforms and tools. I’m afraid no one would consider labeling me a ‘Renaissance Man’. It is indeed time that I ask of my blog followers/friends and cyberspace in general for help in promoting my books.

Thus, I come to the really good part of this blog. Beginning on March 30, 2014 and running through April 3, 2014, five of my eleven books are free on Amazon.Hopefully, with fingers crossed and a pitiful pose, those who get free copies will be kind and give me an Amazon and/or Goodreads review. Following are the books and the Amazon sites for getting your free copies:

“The Reluctant Savage” – http://www.goo.gl/nTvwNo (mystery, suspense, romance)

“Mama’s Madness” – http://www.goo.gl/nnTjbX (suspense, evil, inspired by truth)

“Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story” – http://www.goo.gl/tvaJmv(romance + twists)

“The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son” –http://www.goo.gl/0Ln6Mc  (bio)

“Joe Public’s Political Perspective” – http://www.goo.gl/g9bzxK (musings about our nation and its leaders)

Should you like what you read, perhaps you will consider as well my five ‘Bailey Crane Mystery’ titles. All of my books are available through Amazon in paperback and Kindle format. If you wish, please follow me on:

http://www.twitter.com/brchitwood

http://www.facebook.com/billyray.chitwood and http://www.facebook.com/billyrayscorner  

http://www.goo.gl/x7j7wD

All my books can be previewed at my IAN site, with Amazon links:  http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA

Please leave a comment if so inclined. Thank you and my very best wishes.

        

Meet my new book: “The Reluctant Savage”Posted on September 2, 2013 by billyraychitwood1

The writing process itself satisfies me immensely and, as most authors feel, I am gratified when a book I’ve written is bought by readers. Having just published my tenth book, “The Reluctant Savage,” it is now that difficult time to market the book, to let the world know that it exists and, more importantly, the world should buy it. Of course, it is a ‘hit or miss’ situation. So, here is my new book, fully clothed, ready for your preview.

First, I present to you the cover: (to your left.)

“The Reluctant Savage” embraces several genres, including mystery, romance, suspense, and, yes, it is the content inside the cover that will make or break the book.

For those who like brevity in book descriptions, here’s the short description of the book:

High school sweethearts, Billy Jay Campbell and Marcie Dangino reunite after many years apart. They discover the fire of their young love still glows brightly. With the Air Force behind him, Billy now works as an investigator for a law firm,

Two problems threaten to spoil his homecoming. Marcie is now married to a junior partner at Clarkson and Dangino, a firm that has occasionally employed him for their investigative work. The second problem occurs when Billy’s close friend and boss is murdered.

The Reluctant Savage follows a mystery that connects murder, romance, and a love triangle.

Don’t miss this fast-paced, gritty novel! 

For those who want a deeper grasp of “The Reluctant Savage,” here is the very first chapter:

                                                                    Current Time – Now

“You read this stuff a lot?” His wry smile mocked her while she found the musk from his body diametrically pleasing. He knew there would be no answer to his question as he turned the book over several times in his hand, then tossed it absently on the bedside table. The book skidded over the table and fell to the floor out of sight in the dark corner.

He stood and paced in the small bedroom, smacked himself on the right hip as he walked. “You really don’t like me very much. Know how I can tell? Want to know how I can tell? Just give me a nod. You don’t need to talk, even if you could…Oh, Christ!”

He stopped pacing, pulled a tissue from the box on the bed table, and wiped her nose. He threw the tissue on the floor in disgust. “Stop with the sniffling and the runny nose mess. Got me feeling like a nursemaid. I’ll let you go in a bit. I’ve got some thinking and talking to do. Then, I’ll let you go. Not much longer now, so try to relax.”

He looked down at the young woman on the bed, slowly ran his left hand through her golden hair, saw the redness around her eyes and cheeks. Gently he guided his fingers along her forehead and sat next to her.

An involuntary tautness came to her body but she felt no panic.

The man fingered the edges of the wide white tape that covered her lips and suddenly stripped it away.

The girl gasped, her eyes widened, and she began to open her mouth.

“Now, listen up,” the man said as his right hand closed over her lips, “I took the tape off but you can’t yell and scream. You got me? Blink if you do.”

The girl blinked and let out a deep sigh. “I would never scream and yell… you should know that. Can I have some water?” she asked weakly as the man took his hand away.

“In a minute, I’ll get you water, but now you have to listen. Will you listen to me, Marcie? I don’t want to put this tape back on you.”

“Yes,” her voice barely audible. “Can you please untie me? I hurt so badly.”

‘Maybe…Yes, I will, but you have to listen first. Will you listen?”

“Yes, I told you I would,” her voice weak and just audible.

The man hesitated there on the bed for several seconds, stared steadily into the pleading eyes of the young woman.

“Ah, what the hell, I’ll get your water now.”

The man left the room quickly, and the woman called Marcie closed her eyes and breathed deeply for the few seconds he was gone. As best she could she slowly arched and moved her body and wondered how long all of this would last. She in fact wondered how all of this had really begun.

When he returned, he stood silently in the doorway with a tall glass of water and watched the girl’s torpid stretching of her body, her face wrinkled with the aches of her moves. There was no attempt to escape. She was only after some degree of comfort from the bindings. He came to a decision. Fateful or not, he had to do it.

He hurried to the bed, placed the glass of water on the bedside table. “Okay, I’m going to take away the bindings, but you have got to promise me you won’t try to get away from me…not until you’ve heard me out…not until you have completely heard me out. Do you understand me? Do you promise? You won’t have to try to escape when I’m finished. I’ll let you go. Do you promise, Marcie?”

“Yes, Billy,” came her soft broken reply, “I promise. I don’t want to escape from you. I wish you knew that. Just let me have my body back.”

Billy undid the bindings from the posts of the bed, then from her arms and ankles. When he laid the white rubber-corded bindings in four separate loop piles on the floor next to the bed, he held out the glass of water. He held the glass while Marcie squirmed, turned, and he could hear the sounds of her body responding to their release from bondage.

For a while Marcie lay curled in a fetal position on the bed, silent, moaning in near orgasmic release. Finally, she began to unfold herself, limb by limb, opening and closing her fingers, moving the various joints, until she ended up with her back against the headboard of the bed. Her short gold and lavender dress hiked up to show the gold bikini panties, and she made no attempt in her weakness to hide them. Some of her previous fear had left her. An uncertain calmness spread through her.

“Here, drink some water, Marcie.”

She took the glass, spilled some drops on her bared thighs, and sipped cautiously at first, then gulped the water down. She sat uncertainly holding the empty glass until he took it from her.

“You want more?”

She meekly, negatively shook her head, and painfully raised her arms above her head two times. She then leaned again against the headboard.

Billy moved the chair closer to the bed just a few feet from where Marcie now sat. With his nearness, her legs were drawn tightly together and she pulled at her dress to hide her gold silk panties. It was more a gesture than a concern. He looked in her eyes softly and steadily until the silence between them prompted him to speak: “You’re so damned lovely, Marcie, I…”

“Billy, why…”

He didn’t allow her to finish the question. His mood subtly shifted, as though reminding himself that he could not go back to where his thoughts were taking him. “You are to listen, Marcie, remember?”

She nodded her assent, but added, “I’m queasy, Billy. Can I have some crackers?”

“When I’m finished you get your crackers. The water will hold you. Now, be quiet and listen to me…”

“Just a few crackers, Billy, that’s all, and another glass of water… Please! I’m feeling nauseous. Maybe it’ll settle my stomach.”

He sighed, blinked his eyes, shook his head and almost smiled. He got up, grabbed the empty glass off the night stand, and left the room. Going out the bedroom door, he looked back at Marcie and gave her a thoughtful nod.

He returned shortly with a paper napkin holding several saltines and the glass of water. Putting the water on the bedside table he handed her the napkin and soda crackers. “Now, eat your crackers and don’t talk. I’ve got to get this said…”

He watched her daintily nibble at the crackers, pausing to swallow with some effort. She almost choked with her first swallow, but he handed her the water to help force the food down. She managed to finish the crackers, more water, and appeared to be feeling better.

Then Marcie closed her eyes for a moment, reopened them, and leaned back against the headboard. “Thank you, Billy,” she muttered weakly as she tried to clear her throat of any lingering crackers. “I’ll be quiet now and let you talk.”

He bowed his head briefly as he picked a start point for his monologue. “You know none of this had to happen, and it’s so stupid to even hear me say that! Christ, give me a time machine. Let me go back and get a second chance at all this… But, damn, it did happen! You, I, Jerry, Albert, the frigging finger of fate. You’re beautiful, Marcie, and you know it, and you use it. You drove me crazy with it. You wanted too damned much from Jerry and me, and when you got it you turned it all inside out and made this happen…”

“But, Billy, you know…”

“Shush, Marcie. I’ve got to get it out, so be quiet. That night, after the big dinner banquet, that night began this whole thing. Jerry drunk, you and creepy Albert half-drunk and playful there in our little corner of the Eastside Tennis Club Lounge, and, yeah, I had a little buzz as well. It was Jerry, feeling his booze, who was dredging up the ‘fun game’ he got from the comedian. He was like a silly schoolboy about his idea. I can still see the wrinkled look on your face when he brought it up, the way you looked sort of embarrassed, the way you looked at all of us at the table. You gave him that, ‘Oh, Jerry, don’t be silly’ look. You put on a good show. Albert was the only one who didn’t have a clue. He was still up for more fun and games with you…the bastard! Guess I could have lived with it all, Marcie, but your part of setting me up…”

“But, I didn’t, Billy…”

“Shush, I’m talking here. Yeah, maybe I could have lived with it all until my ass was on the line, until I was the one to take the fall for something that was all ‘Swahili’ to me. Me, I was a really ripe country pumpkin ready for the pie bowl.”

“But it wasn’t that way, Billy. You have to believe me. It was Albert.”

“Bull, Marcie, Albert hardly knew what was happening.”

“That was all an act, Billy. Albert knew much more than he let on. It was his evil doing all along. The little flirtatious business between Albert and me was all just fun and games, something we started at the beginning of my employment there. There was never anything serious between us.”

“Funny how you didn’t sing these songs when I was passed out on the floor, blood all over me. In the end you ran up here to your new cabin.”

“Billy, I thought you were dead. Please believe me! Albert was the only ringmaster for that little ‘solve the murder’ game. He used Jerry just like he used you. I didn’t trust him but I also didn’t know what he was up to.”

“You really expect me to believe that? After all this crap I’ve been through, you’re just going to tell me that this was all Albert. You, sweet little Marcie, had no part in it at all. You’re something else! You want to be tied and taped again until I finish?”

“You don’t have to finish, Billy. I know you didn’t kill the little girl. I know you didn’t kill Jerry. And, you didn’t kill Albert and his wife… I killed Albert after he killed his wife and kid and came after me!”

“Jesus! Will you still use me like this? Have I been in a Grimm fairy tale all along? Do you have not an ounce of decency and feeling in you, Marcie? I’m eager to tell you this story of mine, and you’re telling me I have no story to tell. I was there, remember? The little girl, the woman, Jerry, and Albert, they were all there dead when I regained some senses. Their blood was all over me. They were all dead!”

Billy paused as the image of the little girl came and somehow got stuck in his throat. The memory quakes made him turn briefly away from Marcie. He shuttered and almost cried. Then his brain dipped and swooned for a moment. Maybe some of the brain action was coming from the old air force injury.

“Billy, it was Albert. He easily manipulated Jerry into bringing up the ‘game.’ He manipulated you. He manipulated all of us. That’s the truth, I swear it!”

“Christ, Marcie, don’t do this to me.”

“I swear to you it is true.”

“So why did you run, Marcie? Where were you when I came out of my drugged daze, blood all over me, bodies everywhere?”

“I was afraid, Billy! My God! I thought you were dead! Forgive me for being so weak and terrified. Albert was still making some small movements on the floor. I was afraid – and I’m ashamed that I left you. With all the blood on you, I was sure you were dead. I know better now. I know that Albert made sure you had blood all over you. That had to be his plan, Billy, but I didn’t know his plan. I swear to you, I did not know his plan.”

“Where did you get the gun to kill Albert? Were there guns all over the place?”

“Jerry gave it to me to carry, just in case there was any trouble – he worried about me after he got beat up after that merger meeting. Look, Billy, everyone was dead, or, I thought so, when I came into that room. Shock overtook me and I saw Albert standing over the dead girl on the bed. There was a gun next to him on the bed. He saw me, started to pick up the gun, and I shot him two, three times. He fell, twitched a couple times, and I ran… I’m sorry, Billy, but that’s the truth. I just had to be out of that room. I’m a coward but I would never have left had I known you were alive.”

“Why did you run here to the cabin?” Why not run to the police?”

“Jerry had just gotten this place. Nobody knew about it. People do stupid things in a crisis. The cabin was my first thought…just to be away from everything, where no one knew where I was. There was just so much to explain and I wasn’t up to it. I ran to the car and drove up here. All I’ve said, Billy, I swear it’s all the truth.”

“Are you also going to tell me you love me? Even now, when I’ve had you imprisoned here for all these hours?”

“Yes, I’m going to tell you I love you, because I do.”

“That didn’t seem the case a short while ago, with the tears, the runny nose, and the fear in your eyes. You thought I was some kind of monster.”

“Damn it, Billy, my body was hurting. My brain was working overtime. The tears were not so much from fear as from sadness at seeing you this way.”

“God, Marcie, if I thought you meant any of what you’re saying, your words would take some of the pain away. It would maybe bring back some sanity I fear I’ve lost. It would…”

Suddenly, there were loud crashing sounds and harsh voices coming from behind the closed bedroom door.

Instinctively, Billy rose from his chair with wild eyes, mouth agape, and moved quickly toward the only window in the small room.

Amid a chorus of shrieks the door burst open, and Billy felt a jolting sting to the back of his head as he tried to exit the window. He fell limp and unconscious to the floor.

(End of first chapter.)

So, you now have some sense, some feel, for “The Reluctant Savage.” It’s my hope that you will want to read the book, and, if you do, please feel free to let me know your thoughts, good and/or excellent.  (Okay, authors are human, too!) Write a review, tweet me, facebook me, e-mail me. With that written, here are the ‘buy links’ for this novel:


http://www.createspace.com/4392898


Amazon Kindle Version: http://goo.gl/MI7PLI


Amazon US: http:goo.gl/FmEAc0


Amazon UK: http:goo.gl/1UxQco


You can follow me on these sites:


http://www.twitter.com/brchitwood


http://www.facebook.com/billyray.chitwood


My main website/blog: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com


Independent Author Network – http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (bio and my books)


http://www.about.me/brchitwood  (Bio)