Husbands/Dads, Do You Shepherd Your Families?

I loved this short article. I would really like to implement this sort of thing at home.


"How I Pastor My Family" by Justin Hyde

Max Duncan, Literary Giant

In case you're wondering, the previous post is indeed a story dictated by my story-tellin' son, Maxwell Isaiah Duncan. Getting into the family business already . . .

This is How the Semester Ends . . .

I took my OT History Books test today. That means that I officially have one more year to go at Covenant Theological Seminary. I'm gearing up for a busy summer, so pray for us!

The To Do List:

1. Get a good writing sample ready
2. Take the GRE
3. Find three people to be references for me
4. Write VFO webcomic with Rex Queems
5. Make some rent money somehow

And finally . . .

6. Actually be there when, y'know, my wife has our fourth child

OK, so six things doesn't sound that big, but most of these aren't 'one-off' type things. I'll keep everyone posted.

Dental Adventures in Theological Perspective

NOTE:  At the behest of the masses, I post again.  I'm not sure why youse guys are putting so much pressure on me lately since I've had much longer posting gaps before, but I'm caving.  You only have yourselves to blame.

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As some of you may already know, our oldest son Max has been shedding teeth like a shark.  By the time one tooth comes out another one or two start getting wiggly.  He lost another one last night, but . . . well, let's just say the tooth fairy got one a little earlier than she expected.

I was sitting at the computer sorting through our Blockbuster Online queue when I heard a big thud.  No big deal.  I've heard thuds before.  Only after this thud Max started crying.  Nearly any cry merits parental attention, but this one was different.  There was a decidedly hysterical sound to this cry, and not in the humorous sense.  This wasn't a bonk on the head or a banged shin.  This was real pain.

I shot up from my chair and hurried to Max processing an amazing number of potential problems in the seven feet from the computer desk to the ottoman where my son lay.  Broken arm/hand/finger(s)?  His arm was positioned awkwardly, but it didn't look broken.  And as I said before, the cry was too powerful for a simple head bonk.  I didn't see a pool of blood, no evidence of puncture wounds . . . what was it?  Then I picked Max up and looked him in the face.

"Oh gosh, buddy!!"

Yes, my exclamation at the sight of my son's bloodied mouth was really that G-rated, but 'unprofane' as it was, it was also that unhelpful.  My boy needed calm, and I was not providing it.  He stood there crying, and I could see the blood in his mouth.  Finally my eyes fixed on the gap where his incisor used to be.  It was a baby tooth, thankfully, and it was already getting loose before Max's face-first collision with the armchair, but it was far from being ready to come out.  I got him to the bathroom, Mary Ann brought a wet wash cloth, and we got him settled in.

Max was still freaking out a bit at this point, which was understandable.  Mary Ann continued to try and stem the bleeding, so I went out to get a cup of saltwater.  I can still remember that when I lost one of my teeth when I was a kid my Dad sent me out to the front porch with a cup of saltwater in hand.  The instructions were to swish, spit, and repeat.  So I did what my Dad did.

I went into the bathroom and handed Max the cup of water.  The biggest struggle at that point was keeping him from 1)freaking out over how bloody his spit was in the sink, and 2)freaking himself out even more by looking at himself in the mirror.

Soon the cup of saltwater was gone, we were out of the bathroom and in front of the TV.  By the time Aang vanquished Fire Lord Ozai the psychological trauma was, for the most part, over. Max's psychological trauma, that is.  Mine is still going.  Every time I look at him and see his purpled gums and that raw toothless gap, I'm reminded that I can't always protect my boys.

Max's tooth will grow back, and we'll probably laugh about this story one day.  Heck, if he's anything like me Max will milk this story for every laugh, wince, and gasp it's worth.  But I'll always remember the heartsick feeling that, even though it happened in a small way this time, life can change irreversibly in a heartbeat.  

I must confess I feel foolish, having such a strong reaction to such a small event, but I guess that's because I've lead a pretty easy life to this point.  God has been merciful to me and mine.   Still, even small traumas can help gain a little perspective.

I can't go through my life expecting every detail to work out, even where my kids are concerned.  We were never promised that.  God never said, "be faithful to me and you'll raise a quiver full of healthy kids, live comfortably, and die surrounded by loving grandchildren."  We get trials like everyone else.  In fact, as Christians we have a target on our backs from Satan as well as human enemies of the Gospel.  They hated Jesus, and they'll hate us.

So instead of falling into the 'comfort' mindset that is so common for Americans, I want to use last night's drama as a wake up call.  Ladies and gents, we are not guaranteed comfort, but we are truly in God's hands.  And uncomfortable as that may seem, it's the best place you'll ever be.

Birthday Haul!!

I'm tellin' ya, folks.  For all my whinging about my 30th birthday, it turned out to be pretty cool.  As I wrote previously, I was pulled up from the doldrums by my wife and sons, but my birthday weekend continued on a good note afterward.  Saturday morning my parents showed up and we had a nice little celebration.  The boys all had presents and I got $100 tucked into a two pack of Red Bull.  Very nice.  Not only that, but my in-laws sent me $30, as did Mary Ann's aunt Barbara.  So what does a guy like me get with $160?  Books, my friends.  All books.  I shall now list what I got in my haul.

The Stories of Breece D'J Pancake- Some of you are probably familiar with this tragic story.  Pancake was a West Virginia native.  He grew up in Milton, in fact, which was very close to where I grew up.  I've been to Milton on numerous occasions.  He was widely acclaimed and looked to be on the road to literary stardom, but in 1979 he apparently committed suicide.  Some believe the gunshot wound was accidental, but it was officially ruled a suicide.  After his death, Kurt Vonnegut wrote this in a letter to John Casey:  "I give you my word of honor that he is merely the best writer, the most sincere writer I've ever read. What I suspect is that it hurt too much, was no fun at all to be that good. You and I will never know."  I'm looking forward to digging into his stories.

Town Smokes:  Stories by Pinckney Benedict-Benedict is another West Virginia-born author.  I've read a couple of his stories in All-Story and Image and I came away quite impressed.  I'm looking forward to Town Smokes a lot.

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra-I picked this up because 1) you can get the classics cheap at Borders and 2) it's on the list of novels in The Well-Educated Mind.  Most people consider it the first novel ever written.

The Final Solution:  A Story of Detection by Michael Chabon-I have become an bona fide Chabon fan.  I've read Wonder Boys, The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and The Yiddish Policeman's Union, and all three were quite good.  I'm trying to work through the rest of his stuff now.

Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut-I'm a big Kurt Vonnegut fan, but I hadn't gotten to this book yet.  It's considered one of his best, so it's probably about time.

Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold-I bought this one on the recommendation of a friend, so it better be good.  I'm looking at you, Rob Taylor.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain-I read this book years ago, but I just didn't like it.  I'm not sure why, but I think I've matured as a reader since then.  It's time for me to give Huck another shot.

How Fiction Works by James Wood-The New Yorker critic has written about his understanding of the nature of fiction.  I've enjoyed reading his work in the past, so when I heard this book was coming out I knew I was going to buy it.  So I did.

That's all I've gotten so far.  I still have a about $45 left, so I'll probably end up getting the Reader's Hebrew Bible off of Amazon.  I should have some left over still, but I'm not sure what I'll get.  I'll keep you posted.  In the mean time, look at my book pile in awe.

At 30

Last night, on the eve of my 30th birthday, I watched a dozen people try to squeeze through holes in moveable walls.  It's a game show.  They call it Hole in the Wall.  It's based on a Japanese game show called Brain Wall.  I'd seen clips of Brain Wall before--on Conan O'Brien I think--and I was hopeful.  It was silly, and there's just something inherently hilarious about Japanese game shows.  Unfortunately, as Brain Wall traversed the Pacific it was captured by FOX executives and injected with the irradiated blood of Jerry Springer.  Of the twelve contestants I saw, three were extraordinarily effeminate waiters, three were "little people," and three were female bodybuilders.  The bodybuilders were voiced by Harvey Fierstein.  All wore tight, metallic silver jumpsuits.

Then at midnight I turned 30.  I must say I started my birthday in a bit of a 'mood.'  I thought about the hour I spent watching body-builders wriggle through yellow styrofoam, and it felt like a microcosm of my life.  Seriously.  I had hurled an hour into oblivion.  It was dead.  I sacrificed it in the name of distraction.  I sacrifice a lot in the name of distraction.

When I awoke this morning, I didn't feel any better.  All I could think about is what I haven't done.  I haven't been able to provide a stable living for my family.  I'm unpublished.  I don't even have a complete short story I can be proud of.  I end sentences with prepositions.  So I moped.  I moped while I drank coffee.  I moped through my oatmeal.  I moped as I went to class.  Class was good, but I got my mope back on the way home. 

I entered the apartment building and then . . . MAGIC.  Mary Ann had gotten the boys to make birthday cards for me.  Leo had made some scribbles on one side of the card and signed the other.  Mary Ann had traced Finn's hand on one card, and the last card, Max's card, had a picture of me driving a giant 'drill tank.'  Max had drawn it himself.  He had also written me a happy birthday message.  Mope melted away as I was reminded of my family's love for me.

Ladies and gentlemen, when I come through the door of my apartment my three boys run to meet me.  They run and shout, "DADDY!"  Even Finn, who just turned one.  My wife worked hard to make my birthday good today.  I am thrilled to have the family I have.

I may not be a published author, and I may not have as much money as I think we need, but I won't surrender to self-pity.  I'm know I'll keep distracting myself.  There may be, heaven forbid,  another 300 lb., silver jump-suited waiter in my future.  But the love that lives in this apartment will remind me that I have am not a failure.  At 30, I am a man blessed by God.

A Brief Exchange

Max:  "Why was Jesus as bright as the sun?"

Me:  "Because he had the glory of God all around him."

Max:  "Eyebrows are made of hair."

The End.

Me and Rex: Graphic Novel Ahoy!

As you may have seen in the comments of my "Are Comic Books Subversive 'By Nature?'" post, Rex Queems (the Phony) and I are working on a graphic novel together.  This 'Queems' fella is actually one of my brothers.  I'll leave his actual name a mysterious SECRET.  Anyway, this brother of mine took a liking to my short Vintage Furniture and Oddities pieces and wanted to work up a graphic novel for it.  I liked the idea, so we've been talking long distance (St. Louis to Athens, OH) about it.  The concepts have shifted a bit since the early stages, especially since I only had half of an idea as to where I was taking the story.

Lately 'Rex' has been sending me some pictures of the characters I wrote into the story, and one who hasn't shown up yet.  I don't want to post the pictures just yet because I want to have a better idea of what direction we're going to take the story.  Plus I haven't asked 'Rex' if it was alright with him.  Let me assure you, his art is infinitely better than mine.  His characters have a cartoonish quality, but also a depth that keeps them from looking a cheap Saturday morning cartoon.  It's exciting to see the pictures because I can get a richer concept of what the characters are like.  Good stuff.

Alright, Rex?

Who Watches the Watchmen . . . Act?

The first trailer for The Watchmen is out.  It looks excellent.  Dr. Manhattan is stunning.  Max and Leo have been cracking me up because, since they saw the trailer, they have been playing Watchmen.

"I'm Dr. Manhattan," Leo says.

"I'm Rorschach," Max replies.

Then they run around and battle and fight the bad guys.  It makes me laugh because their perceptions of what Dr. Manhattan and Rorschach are like are, shall we say, a bit off.  I just don't have the heart to tell Max that Rorschach is a mentally unstable far right conspiracy theorist and not a noble hero.  I also don't want to tell Leo that if he wants to be Dr. Manhattan he needs to be naked.  Because, y'know, he'd probably be fine with that.  They'll find all this out anyway when I take them to see the movie next March.

Just kidding.  If you've read Watchmen you'll probably remember that it's less than kid-friendly.  I do plan on seeing myself, though.  The trailer was one of the best parts about going to see PART of The Dark Knight this past weekend.

That's right.  PART of The Dark Knight.  The story goes like this:  A few of us guys who live on campus here at the Seminary got together to go see The Dark Knight Sunday night.  We all rode together and had a good time chatting.  I was a little disappointed that only a couple of us were old comic book junkies so I couldn't talk comics with them, but we had a good time anyway.

We arrived at the theater later than we had wanted so we couldn't all sit together, but I sat with one of the guys and another found a seat directly behind us.  We had been there for about an hour and a half, I think, when it happened.  At one moment Harvey Dent's large, dimpled chin was occupying the screen, the next, darkness.  The emergency lights came on, and a theater employee told us that the power went out and when it came back on the movie would pick up where it left off.  Unfortunately, it was not to be.  They never got the power back on.  10:30 rolled around and they bounced us from the theater.  We got vouchers for a free movie, of course, but here it is Friday and I've still never seen the end of The Dark Knight.  Hopefully I won't have to wait until it comes out on DVD.

A 'Creative' Future

As my faithful readers know, I have been fretting over the future here for a long time.  I have bounced between being a pastor and pursuing a PhD, probably in Moral Theology.  Well, I think I've come to a decision.  Mary Ann and I have been discussing this for the last few days, and I think I'm going to pursue an MFA in creative writing.  You'll notice that this is neither the pastoral track nor the PhD track.  There are PhD options in creative writing, but most programs just offer the terminal MFA.

How did I come to this decision, you ask?  By weighing the options, of course!  I looked at PhD work and realized that I could not really get excited about Moral Theology.  I had also come to the conclusion that the pastorate was not the place for me a long time ago.  Then I took a long look at my writing abilities, and I came to the conclusion that I'm a better "creative writer" than I am a theologian.  So the "subjective experience" criterion was definitely in the MFA's favor.

Then I thought about how I feel alive when I'm writing fiction.  I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile.  Like I'm where I'm supposed to be.  It's a spectacular feeling, and one I'm not used to.  I realized then that God designed me to write.  That's how I'm built.  And if I can put in a commercial for Covenant Seminary here, this place has really helped me come to grips with how God made me, and how he can use the arts for his glory.  Coming here for the MDiv was worth it, even if I won't be using the degree in the expected way.

To continue the process I had a conversation with Mary Ann a few days back.  I was still clinging to the idea that I might use the PhD as my primary goal, but keep the MFA as a side option.  During that conversation she helped me realize that practically speaking the PhD was not all that much better than the MFA.  Both the PhD and the MFA will open up teaching jobs, the PhD in theology and religious studies, and the MFA in creative writing.  Neither field has huge demand, but MFA programs are popping up all over.  There is more growth there, I think.  Also, if I get the MFA jobs in the book industry open up a bit for me.  I could get an editing job more easily than before.  Theology doesn't offer a similar non-professorial option.  I know there are think-tanks, but there are certainly more publishers than there are think-tanks.  So there's that.

I also think I stand a better chance of getting into an MFA program with funding than I do a similarly funded PhD program.  As I said before, I'm a better writer than a theologian.  The question is, of course, which program?  I've started trying to figure that out, but that's a post for another day.

West Virginia Livin'

So here I am in Almost Heaven, West Virginia.  It's good to be back in the 'home country.'  The sojourn in St. Louis will continue for at least two more years, and even when that ends I doubt we'll be returning to WV, but I'm always glad to get back.  I tell people how wonderful West Virginia is whenever I get the chance, but I also tell them how jacked up the government is here.  It's a beautiful, welcoming place, but I wonder how it will ever recover from its economic woes.  People tend to elect the same leaders over and over, and those people do the same things they've always done.

Another problem for West Virginia is the strong union presence.  Don't get me wrong, I think unions serve a noble purpose in the right context, such as early the 20th Century coal mines, but so many of them have become bloated bureaucracies that they can't provide services to their members as they ought.  Even so, many West Virginians remain devoted to their unions.

Still, the draw of West Virginia life is strong.  I feel tied to the state in a way that is unlikely to be matched by any other place.  If I got my PhD and was subsequently offered a job at Marshall University I would have to seriously consider returning.  That possibility is only slightly less likely than me becoming an astronaut, but there's no harm in a little day-dreaming.

You'll have to excuse me now . . . I have a song to sing.

Full On, Five-Alarm, Red Alert Homeschooling: The Cycle Continues

I am in full on, five-alarm, red alert, hide your copy of The Well-Trained Mind homeschooling mode.  

I should probably explain.  You see, I live a cyclical life, which means I flit from interest to interest in a more or less orderly fashion.  For example, an interest in philosophy might yield to theology, which might yield to music, which might yield to literature, which might yield to philosophy, and so on.  Sometimes I skip one interest or another, but mostly the cycle continues to click, whir, and rattle its way through my head.

Roughly five years ago the topic of homeschooling got added to the cycle.  This was coincident with the birth of my first son, Max.  You see, I was educated/marred in the public school system so I knew that I did not want the ravening bureaucrats of American public education working their 'magic'--the educational equivalent of avada kedavra--on my children.  And since I'm bad with numbers, and therefore bad with money, I knew I'd always be poor, so private school was also out of the question.  That left homeschooling, and that meant I had some serious research to do.

I don't know if you realize this, but combining the vigilance of a first-time father with the zeal of an anti-bureaucratic crank yields a near nuclear amount of energy.  I dove into my homeschooling research headfirst, and in roughly two minutes I had discovered the aforementioned book The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer.  After reading about classical education for a bit longer I decided that it was definitely the way to go.

By this time all you homeschooling moms out there have probably noticed the lack of reference to my wife thus far.  There's a reason for that:  I didn't really ask her opinion.  Don't misunderstand, we had agreed to homeschool before we actually had children, but the classical education thing was my baby. The majority of the work was going to fall on her shoulders, but I couldn't help myself.  As Woody Allen said in a somewhat different context, "The heart wants what it wants."

So the plan was set.  Mary Ann and I agreed that we would homeschool using the classical method.  I bought a few books and then came to the realization that my one year old probably wasn't going to be entering kindergarten in the next few weeks.  A bit after that my second son, Leo, was born, so my focus shifted again (remember, 'I live a cyclical life').

Jump back to the present.  Max is now five and in kindergarten.  We've done educational things with him in the intervening years, but now I have that burning desire to get his schooling started in earnest.  Right now we're doing reading (phonics), math, and writing, but when first grade rolls around this fall we will have to add history, science, art, and of course, goat husbandry.  I'm still trying to convince Mary Ann on that last one.

Goat jokes aside, though, I am dying to get my hands on some curricula.  I WANT BOOKS.  I want to buy every book that TWTM gals recommend for first grade study.  I'm desperately trying not to, but I've already made an amazon.com wishlist for Max's education.  I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

Not only are my book buying habits hurtling us toward financial ruin, I've also taken to 'hovering' while Mary Ann and Max do school.  This puts my patient wife in a quandary.  I think she likes having me around, and doesn't mind me helping out, but she's got to be wondering if my hovering is a signal of disapproval.  It's like she's a teacher on probation and I'm the superintendent of schools sitting in on her class.  Of course I don't disapprove.  I trust that she is doing a wonderful job with Max's education.  I'm just impatient.  

I know I should relax and wait on the Lord.  I don't need to get bent out of shape.  First grade is going to be OK.  It's just that, you know, I live a cyclical life.  And for better or for worse, I'm in full on, five-alarm, red alert homeschooling mode.

My Phenomenal Week

This week has been one of the most fun weeks I've had all year, particularly since I entered seminary in June. It started out with no small amount of trepidation; I had my Greek in Exegesis final exam to study for (Greek in Exegesis is the more advanced Greek course here at Covenant). I was concerned because the exam was a pretty big deal. We had to take a passage from Colossians and write what amounted to a mini-commentary on it. We had to deal with the cultural backgroud, Old Testament motifs, grammatical concerns, words that needed closer study, and more. All this had to be done in three hours, which was not easy. I managed it in the end, though, and came out feeling pretty good about it. I don't think I'm destined for an 'A' (thought I dare to dream...), but I think I studied well and 'left it all on the field,' to use a sports metaphor. Perhaps 'left it all in the exam room' would be better, but exams ended on a high note in any case.

Another plus that comes with the end of classes is a shortened work day. For those who don't know, I make my living scrubbin' toilets for The King's Cleaning Service. I work on the Seminary's campus, which has been reduced to a virtual ghost town since the semester ended. No Classes + Christmas Holiday= Empty Campus, which means few people are using the facilities here. I can zip through the campus in a fairly short amount of time and still have a little energy left at the end of the day.

And speaking of Christmas, that has only added to my good spirits. The prospect of seeing our families back in West Virginia is exciting, but that means we won't be able to have our own Christmas celebration here in St. Louis. That being the case, we're going to let the boys open their presents this Friday before we leave town. Our four-year-old, Max, is getting his first bike, so I'll be putting it together tonight (pray for me)!

Mary Ann and I, on the other hand, couldn't resist opening our presents. We tore into them last night, and I must say I'm pleased with the results. Mary Ann was pleased with the presents I got for as well, I think. In case you're interested, here was my haul:

1. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Movie)


One of two Harry Potter movies missing from my collection.

2. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Movie)


This is the other one. It completes my Harry Potter DVD collection!

3. The Waiting: The Waiting


Definitely The Waiting's best CD.

4. The Pilgrim's Progress

This one was probably the crowning touch of the night. It is an illustrated edition from 1891. Veeeerrry cool. To say I was excited is putting it lightly.

The boys and I watched The Chamber of Secrets this morning, which put me in a Harry Potter kind of mood, so I checked MuggleNet to see if there was any news. To my delight, I saw some more good news that made this week even a little better. J.K. Rowling has released the title of book seven!!! I will reveal it at the very end of this post so I won't spoil it for you. Go to her website to find out (MuggleNet has instructions on how to find it out). Anyway, it's been a great week and it only promises to get better (we're getting a used Grand Caravan this Friday in Louisville which will actually reduce our car payment!).

I think that's it. I'll try to post again soon. Now for the title to book seven:


SPOILER!!!!!!






Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Excellent!

Back After a Long Hiatus

It's been a long time since I posted anything here, but both my brothers have been blogging lately so I couldn't let them get a leg up on me. My first two posts here are both papers written for my Covenant Theology class here at Covenant Theological Seminary. The second post, a defense of inerrancy, is definitely more readable, so I would recommend starting there. I know that will only whet your appetite for my writing, so then you can move on to my analysis of the Bronze Serpent story in Numbers. It's scintillating! I hope to be able to write a bit more over Christmas break, but we'll see. I certainly make no promises once classes start this January!

Dreaming of Virtuous Sons

I have a bit of a dream. Here I am going off to seminary, my wife and I trying to beat back worry over our finances. I have a few prospects for some good jobs, and my wife could probably get a job if need be, but…that’s just not how we want to do it. Not that I don’t want a job, but we would rather she not have to work. What does my dream have to do with this? Wait and see.

We are planning on homeschooling our children. Classical homeschooling, no less. That’s reading-intensive stuff. I’m a pretty conservative chap, as you may have guessed, and I can tell you from experience that good reading material for young boys is hard to come by. You can’t just run to Border’s and pick up whatever is on the shelf. You might as well give your child unrestricted access to TV. There will be material there that is toxic to the Christian worldview.

No, I want books that will build virtue in my sons. I want books that build distinctively masculine virtues. Let’s face it: we live in a declining civilization. The young males in college, high school and on down are mostly barbarians. They live to satisfy whatever urge hits them the hardest. The kind of book I’m after teaches my sons to be disciplined, kind to those in need, and unflinching in the face of evil. I want characters that defer gratification, treat women like human beings worthy of honor, and swallow their fears in order to sacrifice themselves for greater things.

I know such books exist, but they’re often difficult to find. Because the demand in young culture is for smart mouthed kids with idiots for parents (see almost every cartoon on the air) good books are hard to come by. Few people are writing them now, and the old ones are out of print. Some homeschool parents spend hours searching antique book stores for little treasures, but that takes a lot of time. The boys are worth it, and I’ll do it if comes to that…but that brings me back to my dream. My dream would kill two birds with one stone.

I don’t imagine clairvoyance is necessary now to discern the content of my dream. I want to write my books. I don’t want to do anything enormous, perhaps just 250 pages worth of text, but if I could capture the virtues I’m thinking of in a compelling adventure story I would be thrilled. That might play a part in the inculcation of virtue in my sons. And if I could sell these books then my wife’s dream of caring for our home and children full time could come true as well!

I’ve already begun spinning my first tale of adventure and virtue about a cooper’s son who is thrust into more adventure than he bargained for. The story is set in an alternate world where magic does not necessarily have the occult connotations it does here (like Narnia and Middle-Earth in that sense), and there will be plenty of swordplay. I know it all sounds vague and underwhelming, but I’m just starting out. Who knows? The book may flop and nothing may come of this. But maybe the book will be well done and well received! Maybe one book will become a series! The future is uncertain, but for the sake of my sons, and for any of yours who may encounter my book(s), I must try.

Apologies

I have been absent most of this week due to a family situation and personal illness. I will resume regular posting next week.