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BILLY RAY CHITWOOD - Amazon Book Reviews

Writing Therapy 

6/6/2014

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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)

         


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Writing And Me

5/22/2014

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Writing And Me Posted on May 22, 2014 by billyraychitwood

                                             Writing And Me

It is more than likely that we who write have many idiosyncrasies, patterns, and similarities. Some authors/writers have a special time during the day when the prolific flows occur. Some of us prefer early morning, others late night, still others when the spirit moves them. Presumably we can all agree that the time-element for writing is an individual thing.

What I write does not always do it for me but it comes close enough to make me feel that it is good writing. Sure, even after all the editing and re-writes, I can probably go to any page and find a word or phrase that I would change. Also, almost assuredly, there will be a small number of careless and clumsy typos and/or noun-verb disagreements. Will it bother me? Of course, it will bother me because I try for perfection – like we all do.

The plot, sub-plots, characters, and action? Will they be all that I want them to be? In some instances, yes. In some, no. However, if the tie-ins meet my approval, if the characters are drawn well, I will settle for the finished product. The essence here is that one strives to write the perfect novel, short story, blog, flash fiction, but can always find flaws, minor though they might be. I have come close, by my reckoning and my measuring stick, to writing an almost perfect novel, better than the first, the second, or the others I have written. I say ‘almost’ because there was something else that could have been written to make it all the way perfect. The reason that ‘something else’ was not written? So much time was consumed in the writing, in the re-writing and editing, that I tired and my impatience settled in the end for what was there.

So, what am I trying to say? Like the good golfer who can never win his first PGA tournament, like the good tennis professional who just can’t win the big final, like the carpenter who thinks he can get by with nails instead of screws, we as writers are good but cannot quite take it to the next level. We have the talent but maybe we lack that special spark of enlightenment, that patient ‘stick to it’ quality that will make our books best sellers and movies.

Do not get me wrong here. Writing does it for me. When I turn that special phrase that says everything I want it to say, that’s magic. When I write something that emotionally rouses me to tears or to anger, that’s really special for me. When my fingers dance merrily around those laptop keys in an almost automatic flowing, and, in the re-reading, it knocks me off my feet, that’s a winning lottery ticket. So my plots are not too convoluted and my stories are rather simple. That’s okay because somewhere in that mesh of words is part of me, visible on and between the lines – my legacy to those who love me and those who wish to know me.

With so many million writers across the globe, some for real, some not so much, the odds are long and near impossible for us to reach that pinnacle for which our egos wish to attain. When I ineptly try to market my books with my many tweets (ad nauseam for many folks, I’m sure!), add some amateurish book trailers, do Facebook and LinkedIn, offer KDP freebies, and doctor up my Amazon US and UK author pages, and nothing seems to bring the sale numbers up, do I despair? Sure, it is a natural reaction. Do I give up? Not in my make-up. I’m staying the course, writing for me and the world. It might take a while for the world to reach me, if ever it should, but I will have a writer’s life of ups and downs. There is so much to learn in this digital world and so much of it is a jigsaw puzzle I cannot put together. Being in Twilight, set in some of my ways, I’m not willing to spend so many hours of my day trying to figure out RSS feeeds, SEOs, Widgets, Apps, and the mechanics of cyberspace. So, I will write, do what I minimally can on the internet, and hope for the best. Plus, I’m too cheap to hire someone to do it all for me.

Careless and clumsy errata? Sure.

Good writing? Damned straight, it’s good!

While I won’t be making the NY Times Best Seller List anytime soon, I’m having a ball, writing my blogs and my books… It keeps me young and obstinate! 

Who knows! Maybe one day all the elements come together, that extra spark of hidden genius, that incredible flow of words that say everything in perfect connection, and suddenly the total package of fulfillment comes… Author Stardom!

If one truly believes he/she can write, gives honest assessments to their skills, and, most importantly, loves to write, then I say, stay the course. Success or no success, I have glimpsed life and have given my pen the joy of describing it. The desire to be known, the ego, will always be there, but, beyond all that, I intend to enjoy the process of writing for itself. Many of us wish for those elusive moments of fame and fortune, and some cannot seem to handle it once it comes. If that fame and fortune never comes, you and I will have found much bounty and joy in the writing process. 

Writing does it for me! (Warts and all!)

Billy Ray Chitwood – May 22, 2014

http://www.about.me/brchitwood 

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

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

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

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

http://facebook.com/billyrayscorner

PLEASE COMMENT IF SO INCLINED. THANK YOU. 

        


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Decisions, Decisions!

4/18/2014

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Decisions, Decisions! 
Posted on April 18, 2014 by billyraychitwood


                                         Decisions, Decisions!

Chocolate or Vanilla? Baked potatoes or French Fries? Movie out or Television at home? Go or stay? Read or Write?

Decisions, Decisions!

At times, family and individual decisions are made with ease and nonchalance, simple no-brainer reflexes. These are generally minor decisions quickly acceptable to those concerned. Other decisions, major in their circumstance and consequence, can affect family, friends, neighborhoods, even, nations. The latter encompasses decisions made by leaders and representatives we choose to run our country’s affairs.

History shows us decisions made by world leaders that have meant death for millions of people, created dysfunctional economies, and scarred the souls of so many. As a bewildered child I saw the reflections of Pearl Harbor and World War Two on the faces and in the actions of my broken family. Later I served in the Korean War, became acutely aware of despicable despots and their greedy and selfish decisions that destroyed so many lives and indelibly stamped the ugly memories into millions of minds. Vietnam and all of its horrific death scenes marked another period where insanity ruled, where our young and promising men and women returned to their homes damaged by the atrocities they had seen and of which they had been a part.

Decisions, Decisions!

‘9/11’ happened and the United States felt the incipient scourge of radical Islamic Terrorism on its homeland. The US was stunned and also fully awake to another assault on its great land of opportunity, freedom, and liberty. The entire fabric of our ruling document, The Constitution, was also under assault. The founding fathers wove a delicate and precise fabric based on Judeo-Christian principles, delineating powers within our governing body – the Executive Branch, The Legislative Branch, and the Judicial Branch – laying out carefully crafted amendments, including the Bill of Rights. Most among us, scholars and citizenry, believe this document is the very best vision for governing and for the rule of law among a civilized society.

Now, many Conservatives see our current Liberal-ruling government in majority control of both the Executive and The Legislative Branch moving with a secular progressive tide toward a nebulous system that has all the earmarks of Socialism. When a one-party administration builds a constituency on a platform of entitlements and promises, when one party pits class against class and falsely uses race allegations, when one party takes away an individual’s freedom of choice, when one party doles out welfare checks that de-incentivizes people to work, when one party builds a healthcare behemoth that strangles the economy and is but another long stretch of bureaucratic pavement on the road to a ‘strange new world’, when one party creates more regulations and taxes to stifle job growth and entrepreneurs’ business ventures and investments, when one party’s leader promises and does not deliver transparency and solutions to IRS one-sided meddling, eavesdropping, and Benghazi, THEN the framework of our democracy begins seriously to dismantle.

Decision, Decisions!

Change is good! Change should come with the blessing of history’s lessons. Why is it that we can resent so easily the wealthy among us? It is generally those folks who provide jobs for the needy and it is those who pay the major share of taxes so government can hopefully keep us safe, the school doors open, and the pork barrels filled to the rim. Why are we so blithely misled into believing that we should all be equal in all things? Certainly, we are born with equal rights and the opportunities to go as far as our ambition, our intelligence, and the fire in our bellies will take us. Why is it that some of our government leaders eschew their responsibility of truth to the people who hired them? The people we elect work for us, not the other way around. May I repeat that? The people we elect work for us, not the other way around.

So, here I sit, trying to make some sense of our nation’s not so subtle moves toward mediocrity. This I do know: the United States is the greatest nation on earth, the most charitable, the most virtuous, and the most diverse. We are a nation of immigrants, and it is right that we expect all who come to our cities and states to assimilate, learn our language, become Americans, and accept our democratic ideals. To live in freedom and liberty does attach some responsibility to our diverse people. Otherwise, denying our heritage and moving away from those things that have made America great, we move toward division and anarchy.

Yes, I am old and used up, but I care about the direction my country will take in the years ahead. I love my wife, our children, and want the best for them. I am not a man of great wealth, except for the wealth of family and friends, and I do not envy or resent the rich – the vast majority work hard for what they have, provide jobs for many, and give generously to the charities of their choice. I bear no racial hatred as I accept an individual for her/his character and principles. I know that, with each generation, there comes change…my only wish is that the change is based on the pages of history, the lessons we have learned.

I want an honest government that only hides from me that which I should not know for national security’s sake. I want no intrusive government. I want a government that provides a safety net for the elderly, the handicapped, those who truly need the help…we have that safety net and it could be that we need to do more in some areas. I want a fair and sensible immigration plan…secure borders…a plausible timeline for citizenship…illegals must register within six months…workplaces must register illegal workers…no work, no stay in country…seasonal work programs…must assimilate and learn English…do crime, deportation…no welfare until citizenship achieved. I want parents to have choices in sending their children to school. I want the strongest military in the world to preclude any country or any faction from considering a conflict against us.

Decisions, Decisions!

Some decisions can lead to severe conflicts. We want leaders who have war and work experiences. Leaders make decisions based on many factors. Most decisions should be common sense and for the good of the majority. History’s lessons should be a guiding force in all major decision making…causes/effects for the fall of Rome…causes/effects for Hitler’s Germany…causes/effects of Stalinist Russia… History’s lessons!

My humble suggestion is that we do not currently have the right leadership in our country. November, 2014, is an important election time – as is November 2016. We have heard the promises and half-truths of this administration. Do we not all want our freedom and liberty intact without false rhetoric that sounds so eloquent and hopeful but is empty and void of performance?

Yes, our nation is changing, seemingly moving away from those ideals and principles that made us the land of the free and the home of the brave. Arrogant atheists who form their ‘anti-christian’ groups can now post a banner in the Capitol Building in Madison, Wisconsin which reads: ‘Nobody died for our sins,’ Jesus Christ is a myth.’ We live in a great country that allows free speech so that is their right, their right on Christian occasions, Easter, Christmas, to make their pronouncements. Why is it that these secular progressive thinkers of such ‘supreme thought’ hate so many of our Christian faith? Why do they not turn their venom toward radical Islam extremists? Do they fear that their heads might be chopped off? They likely know that Christians turn the other cheek.

Okay, maybe I say too much. Maybe I anger too many with this kind of honest thought. Yet, it is what my mind and heart speaks to me, and I share it with you for whatever value you might receive from it.

Frankly, I would much prefer writing ‘flash fiction’ or working on my new book, but I do care about my country and feel the need to express my concerns…my ‘right’ as an American.

Decisions, Decisions!

My recently published book, Joe Public’s Political Perspective, carries forth my concise and simple thoughts about government, politics, and some of the issues of our day… Hope you might read it.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My main website with bio, blogs, and book reviews) 

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

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

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

Please leave a comment if so inclined. 


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Who Am I?

4/4/2014

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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.

        


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Some Notes On My Writing

3/29/2014

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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.

        


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The Ghostly Shroud

12/4/2013

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The Ghostly ShroudPosted on December 1, 2013 by billyraychitwood1


                          The Ghostly Shroud

The fog hangs heavy like a gray ghostly shroud, the bluff and canyon below all hidden from the human eye. The nearby leafless hardwood trees outside the window stand bent, tall, and eerily ominous like lonely wasteland creatures. Occasionally they sway with a slight breeze as though shaking off the winter chill. Those spindly trunks, limbs, and deck rails are the only visible objects within one hundred feet of the house.

So what are the moods and story lines that come to the mind in the bleak environment where now I sit?

Depending on variables in a person’s make-up, the mood can be anxious, depressive, or downright scary. He/she might want lights on throughout the house to offset the gray of day and mood. How would one describe that personality? Perhaps someone deprived or mistreated in childhood? Locked in a closet by a mean babysitter? Bullied on the school’s playground? Perhaps the personality represents someone from a broken home who never quite found the necessary adjustment level? Maybe the wiring is somehow wrong?

These are the people who will be followed through existence by the ghostly shrouds of their early lives. They can be artists, writers, criminals, movers and shakers, but they will always come to a point along the way where they feel helpless and alone. If they are lucky they will live through all the negative obstacles thrown in their path, accomplish, fail, and survive without too many scars.

How about the personality that thrives in this enclosed environment and in practically any situation? Perhaps this person had a happy childhood with few negative influences and can survive all but the direst of circumstances.

They need no lights turned on in the house. They are the calm, the patient, good parents, good leaders who go on and lead our corporations and even our countries. They, too, can be artists, writers, criminals, movers and shakers.

The story lines are endless – mostly of a sinister cast. Some authors could write a romantic tale with candlelight and wine in front of a fireplace, with two lovers, of course. Others might write about a mother and children waiting with concern and worry the arrival of a father returning home from a business trip. There are so many scenarios the mind can conjure, so many elements of doom and gloom, fantasy, intrigue, funny or satirical situations. Superfluous though it must seem the writer has so much in life from which to draw.

So often is the time when I open the laptop and write a dramatic fictional paragraph about an event that has recently come via the news or a random thought that flashed in the mind. That paragraph might well be the beginning of a new novel or short story…perhaps not destined for greatness, but, at the very least, I’m doing something I love to do – write.

The point of all this is simply my rambling, evoked by the ghostly shroud that surrounds my day. I’ve given you nothing but my idle mind wandering. Now, finished for the moment, I’m going to get up and turn on all the lights. After all, it is 4:00 PM here in the southeast and the darkness will soon blend with the ghostly shroud.

Spring cannot come too soon for me. Even then, it will be necessary for me to turn on lights, perhaps more frequently than most.

You see! I took these simple thoughts that came to me through the fog and held you spellbound for a few minutes…or, not! J

Please follow me on Twitter (@brchitwood)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

See my books at http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA

Short bio at http://www.about.me/brchitwood

My blog at http://www.thefinalcurtain1.wordpress.com


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Wise And Witty Lady

9/22/2013

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A Wise And Witty LadyPosted on September 22, 2013 by billyraychitwood1


Her name is Linda Urbach aka Linda Howard and if you are a reader who enjoys wisdom and wit in the books and passages over which you hover, you must read the blogs and the books by this exceptional author. To use a phrase that might seem time-worn, she is truly ‘the real thing’. Please visit the sites shown at the end of this post.

Linda’s latest blog post, Booking Bad: Author’s Shameless Use of Her Terminal Cancer to Promote Her Novels, gives you a glimpse of that wisdom and wit, plus some heart undercurrents you cannot help but feel – http://goo.gl/fPY55p. The blog is true Linda Howard Urbach, one of the premier authors of our time. Whether her books are written under Linda Urbach or Linda Howard, you will find lively prose, characters, and plots that will keep you riveted to the pages.

Madame Bovary’s Daughter: A Novel (http://goo.gl/XCu7bJ, written under Linda Urbach, is a masterpiece of writing which goes back to the book by Gustave Flaubert’s classic, MadameBovary and imagines the answer to whatever happened to Emma Bovary’s orphaned daughter. Here’s amazon’s brief description:

One year after her mother’s suicide and just one day after her father’s brokenhearted demise, twelve-year-old Berthe Bovary is sent to live on her grandmother’s impoverished farm. Amid the beauty of the French countryside, Berthe models for the painter Jean-François Millet, but fate has more in store for her than a quiet life of simple pleasures. Berthe’s determination to rise above her mother’s scandalous past will take her from the dangerous cotton mills of Lille to a convent in Rouen to the wealth and glamour of nineteenth-century Paris. There, as an apprentice to famed fashion designer Charles Frederick Worth, Berthe is ushered into the high society of which she once only dreamed. But even as the praise for her couture gowns steadily rises, she still yearns for the one thing her mother never had: the love of someone she loves in return.

After reading this book, you will want more books from this exquisite writer, in which case you go to: http://goo.gl/58gwJE where you will find her other titles under Linda Urbach and Linda Howard.

I’ve wanted to do a post about this fascinating lady for some time. In moving back to Tennessee from the Sea of Cortez and other time consuming matters, it was simply delayed. Her blog post which I just read today (referenced above) gave me the impetus to forego other posts and write this one.

I have never personally met Linda, only the pleasure of corresponding with her over the months. In all I’ve read by this lady, her magnificent mastery with words shines most clearly. The wisdom and wit to which I keep referring is in each line she writes. The post she wrote today touched me most deeply and on many levels, not only the gallantry she shows in handling the ‘episodes’ of which she writes, but of an indomitable spirit that can seem in short supply these days. Please find time for this lady in your reading life. Read the blogs in her archives. Read her books. You will find a most endearing companion to take along on your life’s journey.

Follow Linda on Twitter: @LindaUrbach and @mylittlepubco

Visit Linda’s website: http://lindaurbach.com

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You can find me at: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com and http://goo.gl/fuxUA

        


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Meet My New Book: "The Reluctant Savage"

9/2/2013

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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)


        

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Meet John Dolan

8/18/2013

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Meet John DolanPosted on August 18, 2013 by billyraychitwood1
 This trademark picture of John Dolan might lead one’s imagination to suspect that this is a man of daring, perhaps out on safari facing the giants of the animal kingdom, a man of mystery and intrigue. One could look at this image and consider the man under the hat either very timid, or, suspiciously avoiding recognition… I had some other scary thoughts about this man when he interviewed me some months back at his ‘Dubai Dungeon’ with an odd. hulking gray-skinned Cyclop assistant named Digby — hmm! wonder whatever became of Digby (haven’t heard of him in months). Anyway, the Dubai Dungeon was a bit like the hat – deceiving. Actually, John’s blog is called ‘Galericulate’ (defined as ‘covered, as with a hat.’) You can always visit him at Galericulate athttp://johndolanwriter.blogspot.com. The interview of me was indeed original, witty, and also very informative, showing the different shades of John Dolan. (I shall include that interview at the end of this post – for your pleasure, I hope!)

The man under the hat is British, living now in Thailand with his lovely wife, Fiona, and family. He is one of the best authors I’ve ever read. Hence, the reason for this post. John Dolan wrote “Everyone Burns,” book one of his trilogy, ‘Time, Blood, and Karma mystery series,’ and it is a superb, thrilling read about a worn down detective, David Braddock, fighting not only himself but the underbelly crowd of Thailand. Some charred remains of Europeans are discovered on the Thai island of Samui, and this starts the non-stop action…and Braddock’s efforts are definitely not helped by his having an affair with the Police Chief’s wife… But I will say no more here about “Everyone Burns” except that it has a multitude of 5-Star reviews and is one of my all-time favorite books.

What I really want to write about here are two things: 1) Book Two of the trilogy, “Hungry Ghosts” and 2) The man under the hat.

1) “Hungry Ghosts” – Unfortunately, I can’t say a lot about book two in the ‘Time, Blood, and Karma Series’ except that it is COMING OUT VERY SOON, and I shall be one of the first to buy when available. “Hungry Ghosts” has been written, has gone through most of the final editing phase, and I’m guessing it will be out within the next few weeks. One thing I know, having had the titillating experience of reading Book One, “Everyone Burns,” I’m like the proverbial kid in the candy store… Yes, John Dolan will do that to you! Please be on the lookout for “Hungry Ghosts” – it will be my personal promise to you that your reading appetite will be craving more from this man.

2) The man under the hat is not only my friend but he is a man of profound wisdom and wit. He is also an excellent poet, in the mold of the great English Romantics who gave me impetus to become a wordsmith, to play in the sand pile of words, to create stories that were uniquely my own, to turn phrases that could either bring me to a smile or bring a tear to my eye, to make me more aware of who I really am. The writing process does that for me and I make no pretense at greatness for my books, but I like them. John Dolan, I’m reasonably sure, feels much the same way about his writing as I do of my own. The difference between our writings? My tales tend to be gritty and simple tales, some inspired by true events. John’s writing brings an extra dimension which causes me some envy – he has the capacity to maintain a scholarly tint to his prose, to make a metaphor seem golden, to entertain a reader in a masterful display of diction and delirious fun. John Dolan is a master wordsmith who can be a Mickey Spillane, a John Grisham, a Nelson DeMille, a John LeCarre… Guess what I’m trying to say is that John Dolan is literary and he is one hundred percent real (the masses will love him as will the literary folks.)

You can follow John Dolan on twitter (@JohnDolanAuthor) and on Facebook.

You can preview “Everyone Burns” at http://www.goo.gl/vvXdh

You can find ‘Galericulate’ at http://johndolanwriter.blogspot.com (watch for his announcement of Book two, “Hungry Ghosts”)

Now, that interview I promised follows…

Talk to the Hat: Billy Ray Chitwood (from John Dolan’s archives athttp://johndolanwriter.blogspot.com

JD  My guest today in the Dubai Dungeon is Billy Ray Chitwood, author of several books, the most recent of which is ‘What Happens Next? A Life’s True Tale’. Welcome!

BR  Where am I? How did I get here?

JD  You’re in Dubai, BR. You’re here through a process that’s known as ‘Rendition’, I believe. It involves the use of secrecy, incapacitating drugs and a private aircraft.

BR   Why am I hung up by chains in a damn Arabic basement?

JD  Technically this is not a basement, it’s a dungeon. Anyway, I’m working on a budget. The electric chair has broken down so this is the best I can do at short notice. Ha! That was a pun. “Short”.

BR  Yeah, yeah, very funny.

JD  Digby, get the cattle prod.

(Sounds of electricity arcing)

BR  Holy crap.

JD  Nice to see something still works in this damn place. OK, BR, I want to talk to you about your life. Particularly as there may not necessarily be much of it left. But first I’m going to read you some of my poems.

BR  Couldn’t I just have the cattle prod instead?

(Sounds of electricity arcing)

BR  Thank you.

JD  According to my secret dossier you’re from the Appalachians, East Tennessee. Which makes you another damn American. What’s that place like? They got indoor toilets and shoes there yet?

BR Well, yeah, now they do! When I was In Oswego Bottom, we had an old unpainted clapboard house, kerosene lamps and an outhouse … sure hated to make the ‘number two’ trip in the dark of night. The Sears catalog pages were not too functional … Must have had shoes but damned if I can remember them. Went barefoot a lot on the old country roads and cut my toes on discarded fruit jars – the old timers used fruit jars for their moonshine, or ‘white lightning.’

JD  Sounds ghastly. I’ve always thought the difference between Tennessee and yoghurt is that yoghurt is a living culture. But, hey, what do I know? I’m only an educated Englishman after all.

BR  Can I disagree with that last statement?

JD  Of course.

(Sounds of electricity arcing)

JD  I’m interested to know how you started off in life with no shoes and ended up as a writer.

BR  I never said I had no shoes as a kid! Just don’t remember them …

JD  Shut up. I’m trying to make you sound interesting here. Tell Dr John about your life.

BR Lots of mobility, divorced parents who fought a lot, literally. Lived for a time with my paternal grandparents (Oswego Bottom – AKA Wooldridge). Lived for a time in state-run institutions – we were poor and Mom had a rough time keeping my sister and me with her.  Life became somewhat normal for me during junior and senior high school. Mom worked as a boarding house cook for some time but her real love was the Bell Telephone company, where she retired. The Southern Baptist influence was heavy. There was a ton of emotional stuff to get through. At Seventeen, I joined the US Navy to get away from it all. That’s when a misdirected kid came ‘not very well’ of age. The adult world collided with my emotions and I sort of went crazy: married too soon, had kids, divorced, hit the gin mills and met some very pretty ladies. Managed somehow to get a college degree, worked with some major textbook publishers, owned a business, and was even able to do some acting on stage, film, and television … To sum it up for you: I ate some emotional soup in my youth and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to digest it. Shall I sing a chorus from “All The Girls I’ve Loved?”

JD  Not unless you want Digby to use the prod again. OK. Tell me about your Bailey Crane mystery books. And don’t be boring about it.

BR  Five books in the series, three inspired by actually crimes. The first book, “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery,” is about the brutal murder of a young actress and mother. In real life this lovely lady happened to be a friend of mine, actually got me into acting, was also a secretary to a couple of my attorney friends in Phoenix … Sorry, I’m rambling, trying to get my mind off these infernal chains …

JD  It’s alright. I’m only half-listening anyway.

BR  Anyway, Bailey Crane is a transplanted southern fellow and mirrors a bit of my own life. Bailey tells the stories with his simple plot lines, fuses and muses about his own life experiences. Book 2, “Satan’s Song -ABCM”, deals with a decapitation murder in Phoenix, again inspired by a true crime.  (Put the prod down! I’m getting boring.) Suffice, the five books deal with Bailey Crane’s life as he chases the bad guys. The books can be read independently of each other, but each book does show the natural progression through the years of Bailey Crane. Book 4 in the series, “Murder In Pueblo Del Mar – ABCM”, was inspired by an actual murder of a mother in Mexico while on family holiday. The story involves the husband/father and his relationship with a transsexual lover. The book is a fictional account but with some truth and author embellishment. Books 3 and 5 in the Bailey Crane Series (“The Brutus Gate – ABCM” and “A Soul Defiled – ABCM” respectively) have no basis in true crime, but good reads if I do say so. Sorry to be so boring –

JD  As well you should be. (Yawns, and thinks about electricity)

BR  - but the Bailey Crane books gave me the chance to explore some dimensions of myself. I call my writing therapy for the soul.

JD  I want to talk about “Mama’s Madness”, a book of yours I read and reviewed recently. But this is serious talk, so I don’t want you dangling from chains. Digby! Lower Mr Chitwood down and sit him on a crate.

BR  Thank you. You can be a really difficult person to ‘hang around’.

JD  You’re welcome. I feel a little more dignity and decorum is required at this point. Oh, and Digby bring the bucket of maggots for Mr Chitwood’s feet.

BR  Is that necessary?

JD  My lawyers insist.

BR  Ugh. They’re warm. They’re alive!

JD  Of course they are. You think I’d use dead maggots? What sort of a host do you think I am?

BR  A psychotic one, actually. No wonder you liked “Mama’s Madness”.


JD  Great book! And a brave one for an Indie writer. Tough and unsentimental. Well, more ‘mental’ than ‘sentimental’. For those who haven’t read it, it’s a tale of southern lowlifes, and a central character Tamatha Preen who is basically a no-holds-barred psychopath that tortures and murders her own children.

BR Your type of woman, I’d guess.

JD  I’m going to let that one go. It’s based on some real-life events which I believe happened in Northern California?

BR  Yes, “Mama’s Madness” deals with an evil mother’s hold on her children. It deals with dark closet punishments, beatings, forced prostitution, unbelievable acts, and three murders. It was a book difficult to write because most of us are unwilling to accept the fact that people like Tamatha Preen (a fictional name), that this kind of evil does indeed exist. Although “Mama’s Madness” has its sordid disbelief it is one of my favorite writing accomplishments.

JD  Tell me, BR, what is your favourite book of all time?

BR That would likely be, “You Can’t Go Home Again” by Thomas Wolfe.

(JD nods at Digby. Sounds of electricity arcing)

BR “The General’s Daughter” by Nelson DeMille.

(JD nods at Digby. Sounds of electricity arcing)

BR OUCH! Okay, okay, my true favorite is, “Everyone Burns” by John Dolan?

JD  Now you’re getting it. Tell me about your latest book. And be quick about it, I’m getting hungry.

BR “What Happens Next? A Life’s True Tale” is non-fiction, about me, about my memories of east Tennessee, about my wanderlust, about a marriage that happened too fast, about the kids I cherish, about some of the loves of my life, about the neon lights and gin mills of California and Arizona, piano bars, pretty ladies, and about my faith. The book is an honest look at my mistakes, about my joys and triumphs, and about the remarkable wife, Julie Anne, with whom I get to spend the rest of my life. This non-fiction book is a ‘brother’ to my first book, “The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son”, a fictional memoir which is ninety per cent true and covers some of the same ground. I even explore a family murder and a family suicide.

JD  Had enough of the maggots yet?

BR  I sure have.

JD  Good, because I think they’ve had enough of you.

END OF INTERVIEW.

Follow Billy Ray on: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

On: http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA

On: http://www.about.me/brchitwood

On: amazon.com and amazon.co.uk

         


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A Wanderlust Brief!

7/7/2013

3 Comments

 
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                                                 A Wanderlust Brief!

I'm off again! Leaving the Sea of Cortez for the hills of Tennessee --- it's a rather common anomaly, this wanderlust thing that courses through the veins along with the blood. My wife, sweet Julie Anne, would still be content in that first house of many we've had, but she is such a patient and understanding person --- either that or she is a loon to put up with me and my nomadic impulses.

Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel, "You Can't Go Home Again," and I'm testing his long ago thesis. I was born in East Tennessee near the Kentucky border, back when the times were emotionally charged and the economy was a highfalutin word at which most of us good hill folks just squinted our eyes and kept on plowing the fields and digging up the taters and turnips.

Dianne Gray wrote a book of short stories ("Manslaughter And Other Tears" - they're on amazon now and the Kindle book is FREE. as I write this), one of which really caught my attention... The story is titled, "Corrugated Dreaming" and it's filled with some unbelievably good writing, great analogies, and some kind of human conditions with which I can identify. The Lady Gray is just too good and original, and, if you haven't read her many books, hop to it. Dianne is most certainly one of the best writers of our time.

But I digress!

It's true, all that emotional soup I ate during those Appalachian days must have made for poor digestion all these years --- the family disconnect, the mobility, the tears and the stains. With the books I've written, I suspect I've been trying to find those pieces of me I never could find back in those days. They're there in my books, in the simple characters and plots I build, on and between the lines. I'm quite sure most authors/writers do the same thing. Some are just too darned good, too original, and should be topping everyone's reading charts. Now, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing my books my way --- there are a few in my reading audience and it's growing.

Well, here's the thing, why the move back to Tennessee where some old memories just might cause some soul demolition?

The short answer I've given --- that wanderlust thing!

The longer answer is a bit more complicated, all mixed up in the genes and memories, some gray areas of regret and remorse, some faint idea that maybe I can reconcile some of my life back there where it all started.

It's likely a 'fool's journey' but my commitment is made. Onward to Tennessee! Julie won't be surprised if I'm ready to move again in a couple of years - if that long!

If anyone is reading this and gives a 'hoot and holler,' my e-mail, my blogs, and all my social networking sites will be the same.

One last thing, if anybody can recommend a pill for getting rid of wanderlust. please let me know. I'm really getting too old for these moves. :-)

Please follow me on twitter.com (@brchitwood)
 
My main website/blog is: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com
 
My Wordpress blog: http://thefinalcurtain1.wordpress.com

Short bio sketch on: http://www.about.me/brchitwood
 
My nine books (soon to be ten) are at: http://goo.gl/fuxUA 
 
My books are also on amazon.com: http://goo.gl/vYTfR
 
My books are also on amazon.co.uk: http://goo.gl/ScJ1q


                  


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    Hill boy from Tennessee still chasing his dreams and running from his demons. Have written nine books, tenth in the oven. Currently beach bumming under soft blue sunny skies on the Sea of Cortez with wife, Julie Anne, and a darn lovable and feisty Bengal cat named George.

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