My Latest Baby Goes Out Into The World With A Punch

There's something about the prospect of revenge that taps into the very animal inside us. It doesn't matter who you are. There's not a person on the planet who hasn't at one time or another wished for instant "karma" on someone else.

Movies like The Brave One, or Death Sentence, or the infamous slew of Charles Bronson Death Wish films, a revenge story hits us in the heart.

And so it was with no small degree of emotion that I penned Rabbit Punch. I started by asking myself what subject gets under my skin more than anything else. If someone did "_____" to someone I loved, I would totally lose my cool and go all Liam Neeson on them.

The answer, for me, was child sex trafficking. Considering I wrote the novel right after the birth of my firstborn son, "Rabbit Punch" is as raw and gritty as I could make it.

My other inspiration is real life hero Frank Corti, a retired junior boxing champion who served in the Royal Engineers. In 2009, at the age of 72, Mr Corti stopped a knife-wielding home invader using nothing but his fists. I've always enjoyed stories with a more mature protagonist because, simply put, old people are awesome!

Frank Cort

I can't name ONE horror movie starring a bunch of picture-perfect twenty-somethings that's actually scary. Why? Because young people scare too easily. There's nothing scary about watching a bunch of college students running from the boogeyman. Give me a character like Father Merrin from The Exorcist, a weathered old man who has seen it all. When someone like him gets scared, then you know the stakes are high.

All of this lead to the creation of the story behind Rabbit Punch as well as its main character, a 62-year-old retired boxer and tough-as-nails Scotsman, Glen McLeod.

From the back of the book

Glen McLeod learned to box the same way he learned to drink: through pain. Now 62 and a recluse in the rural community of Bath County, Glen spends his days with his garden, his dog, a bottle of hard liquor and harder memories.

That is until Lauren, the 9-year-old daughter of his next-door neighbor, is abducted.

When the county sheriff appears complicit in covering up the truth Glen begins his own investigation. The clues lead him to something more sinister than anyone expected. Caught between justice and revenge, Glen will discover what he’s truly capable of when he’s pushed against the ropes.

"Rabbit Punch" Proof Copy Arrives

Even though most people will probably not see this book in its print form, I like to examine a physical copy. My years as a graphic artist laying out books and interior designs has taught me to always examine the printer's work. Fonts and colors can look a lot different in print than they do on a computer. Errors pop out more too, whether they be typos or errors with the margins or design.

This copy looks pretty darn good. Got a few tweaks to make and then it's off to the presses.

I'm always pleased with my work until I see it in print form. Then my opinion changes to "What am I thinking? I can't release this into the world. This sucks!"

*palms face*

So, world, brace yourself for my sucky book.

How I Saw The Hero Change - A Look At Heroes In The Movies

I was raised in a pretty traditional home in rural Vermont. My father was a police officer. My mother a God-fearing woman. So a strong sense of justice and right and wrong was instilled in me.

As a kid, the types of heroes I gravitated to were the heart-of-gold heroes, uncompromising and duty-bound. The heroes who believed in truth and justice. Superman. Batman. Luke Skywalker. He-Man. The Ninja Turtles.

In the early 1980s, there was no question that heroes were good. It didn't matter what made them good, just that they were good, that they fought the bad guys and won in the end. And that's pretty much all I cared about too.

Arnold Schwarzenegger as Handsome Stranger in Cactus Jack

When I was around eight years old, my mother introduced me to a movie that changed my perspective on what makes a hero. Cactus Jack, also known as The Villain, was a western comedy that starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as Handsome Stranger, a perfect cowboy who did what was right because, well, it was right. In my little eight-year-old eyes a hero couldn't get any bigger than Schwarzenegger. I mean, come on, he was Commando, Kalidor from Red Sonja, Detective John Kimble from Kindergarten Cop, and Dutch from Predator. He wasn't just a hero, he was the hero!

But the main character of Cactus Jack wasn't Schwarzenegger. It was the bad guy Cactus Jack Slade, played by Kirk Douglas, a thief and a scoundrel and a liar. Heck, he even had his own "Bad Men of the West" handbook. He was rotten to the core, but he was the hero of the story. Sort of. He was the focal point anyway, and it's the first time I remember thinking differently about what makes a character a hero.

Seeing the trend

As I got into my teen years I began to notice a trend in popular culture. Heroes went from being wholesome and good and chivalrous to dark and brooding and even more dangerous.

I didn't know it at the time, but the anti-hero was nothing new. The movement began, I think, in the 70s with films like Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw, Death Wish, and Dirty Harry—in fact, Clint Eastwood became the poster child for the brooding anti-hero for many years.

This wasn't just a film trend either.

In comic books, we saw the emergence of The Punisher and Wolverine in 1974. This ignited a dark and brooding anti-hero trend that exploded in the 80s with Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns—a title that redefined Batman as a nightmarish vigilante—and Alan Moore's Watchmen series, which gave a dark new definition to what makes a comic book hero.

In literature, we saw the popularity of the anti-hero rise with books like Steven King's The Dark Tower, Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, and many, many others.

On the political front, Ronald Reagan began appointing conservative judges who cracked down on crime at a time when most of the public perceived crime rates as high. The sexual revolution and the Cold War era helped breed a mindset within American culture that had a lot to do with shrugging off society's standards and government control.

The public perception of what a hero was supposed to be was changing. No more Greek demigods or mortal "chosen ones." Heroes were becoming more human and more imperfect.

My favorite imperfect hero

For me, the next big milestone came in the early '90s when Bruce Willis took on his most iconic role, that being the tough-as-nails cop John McClain in Die Hard (1988), Die Hard 2 (1990), and Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995). I might not have been drawn to a character like John McClain with his drinking binges, foul-mouth, and bad attitude had it not been for the fact that my dad was also a cop.

The more I watched John McClain, however, the more I realized that underneath his imperfect exterior was a true hero. Sure, he was a nut, and he screwed up a lot, but you could always count on him in the end. Die Hard remains one of my all-time favorite movies.

Other movies that challenged my perception of what makes a hero included Sean Connery in The Rock, Martin Lawrence and Will Smith in Bad Boys, Wesley Snipes in Blade, and Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon.

The hero becomes the villain

Shortly after the turn of the century, I observed another change in how our heroes were being portrayed. This time dark took an even darker turn.

Sin City (2005), based on the graphic novel by Frank Miller, remains an incredibly grim and hyper-stylized story of bad guys doing the right thing. Its brutal violence pushed the anti-hero to the edge, even going so far as to make the audience root for the bad guys. (Let's face it, everyone was a bad guy in that movie!)

Also in 2006 Showtime presented us with Dexter, a hugely popular series that ran for eight seasons, based on the books by Jeff Lindsay. The hero of this series was a serial killer. Oh, sure, he was a conflicted serial killer, and the show did an amazing job at making him likable, but this kind of programming never would've been produced ten years ago.

The hero had changed again, and he was really, really bad.

How far the hero has fallen

Nowadays you'd be hard-pressed to find a film with a perfect, uncompromising hero. If you do, it's probably made fun of—i.e. Metro Man as voiced by Brad Pitt in Megamind, and Emmet as voiced by Chris Pratt in The Lego Movie.

The closest example would probably be Chris Evan's strong-jawed portrayal of Captain America in Marvel's Avengers franchise, but even he is depicted as being an archaic concept from a bygone era.

Has the concept of the "true hero" become a thing of the past? Why are we, as a culture, so averse to the notion of perfection? Why aren't our heroes wholesome anymore?

As much as we as individuals strive for perfection we know we can't reach it, and we're quick to tear down anyone who appears even slightly perfect. Tabloids hound celebrities for their dirty secrets. Politicians attack one another like rabid dogs to expose the skeletons in their closets. For some reason perfection makes us feel awful about ourselves, so when we meet people who seem to have it all together our impulse is to gossip about them, talk behind their backs, smear them, bring them down so we feel better. We hate perfection, and yet we're obsessed with it.

We want to see our heroes win, but it's like we can't buy the scenario unless we can perceive them as being worse than ourselves.

I guess all of this is to say as much as I've embraced the anti-hero with all of his foibles and problems, I kinda miss the heroes I grew up with.

Indie Authors Need To Make Waves, Not Splashes

I've been taking some time away from Children of the Falls and the world of Edhen to focus on a new project. It's a short book that I wanted to write to market as quickly as I could, because as much as I love my gargantuan fantasy novels they do take a while to write. I want to output more books, learn to write better faster, and hook into a popular genre that can actually put some money in my pocket.

Whether us indie authors like it or not we need to be concerned with output. A novel every year or two is not enough. We need to publish more frequently. It's the difference between making a big splash and making waves. A splash lasts for a moment and its ripples quickly fade, but waves never stop.

These past couple of months have been a test for myself. I've measured how long it takes me to write a 70,000 word novel, what my average per hour word output is, and whether I'm more productive at home, at a coffee shop, in the afternoon or evening. It's yielded some interesting insights that have shown me ways I can improve.

For example:

• As much as I love to get a blended latte at Krispy Kreme and work in the corner booth, I've found that my average per hour word output drops from about 1,500 words to a thousand or less while working in a public place. Ouch.
• Interestingly enough I find editing is easier when I'm at a coffee shop away from home.
• At home I did my best writing between the hours of 10pm and midnight with about 1,700 words per hour. I can't focus enough in the mornings or afternoons to obtain that level of output.
• The quality of my work is best when I've outlined what I want to write. Even if that means taking five minutes before my writing time to consider what direction I want to take a certain scene or conversation. When I've got a map to follow the quality and speed at which I write is much faster.

The new mystery novel is a genre jump for me, but it's a genre that sells more consistently than medieval fantasy. The problem with fantasy is that it requires an investment on behalf of the reader. People want to be immersed in the worlds of Middle Earth, Narnia, and Westeros, but they're often hesitant to take the plunge. Getting familiar with a new world is a big undertaking, especially if the author is an indie guy like me.

I appreciate the loyal fans I have for Children of the Falls, but it's time, I think, to expand my horizons.

The new novel, Rabbit Punch, is a vigilante mystery thriller set in a small New England town similar to where I grew up. It was inspired by a news article I read back in 2014 about a 72-year-old retired boxer who defended himself from a 20-something home invader. When this punk kid broke into his home and attacked him with a knife this old man took him down with two punches. The paramedics who responded to the scene described what the kid looked like after being hit by this old former boxing champion—"It looked like he'd been hit by a truck." I found that amusing.

I love old people. I think they're undervalued and underserved in this country. I think they've got so much to say and so much wisdom we can glean from if we weren't so wrapped up in our selfish day-to-day lives.

I'm looking forward to releasing Rabbit Punch for people to read. It's a fun, fast-paced who-done-it story with a dash of brutal vigilantism. Coming soon!

One Of The Best Things About Having An Outline

To outline or not to outline? That is the question every writer must face.

I'm big on outlining. I don't use bullet points or any kind of outlining nonsense they taught in school. My outlines are different. My outlines are straightforward story maps that I make before I start writing a novel. Some of them are so thorough I consider them Draft One.

I outline for many reasons.

1. To quickly get a story out of my system (usually takes about five days) and see if it's even worth writing.
2. To help prevent writer's block further along in the process.
3. To plan foreshadowing events and character arcs.
4. To ensure my story isn't just a sequence of events, but that it contains subtlety and subtext.
5. To build, not just a story, but a world within my story.
6. To make sure I don't screw something up (she starts the story with blonde hair, but ends the story a brunette. Oops!)
7. To help me remember what the hell is going on. (What happened to that guy from Chapter 3?)
8. To hash out plot points in advance so I don't get stuck.

I could go on, but eight is a cool number so I'll stop there.

Recently I began work on a new novel, something I'm aiming to write to market and release later this year. While on vacation I created a very thorough, chapter-by-chapter outline. I practically storyboarded the entire book and in the process found a gem of a story that I'm very excited about.

I started writing the narrative about a week ago, and last night I ran into a conflict with the plot.

"What the frack? Are you kidding me? All that work outlining and I run into THIS?"

Here's what happened.

In a nutshell, I had a character who had written down the license plate number of a suspected child abductor. This character worked at a hardware store and the suspect had been a customer. The license plate number was taken to the police in the hopes of discovering the suspect's name and address. But I ran into a conflict when it occurred to me that the suspect had just ordered some building materials from the hardware store. His name and address were already on file. There was no point in going to the police with the plate number because the hero already the info he needed.

And a whole subplot went down the drain.

Fluuush!

*face palm*

"You're an idiot, Craig. You wasted all that time outlining and look where it got you. Welcome to Writer's Blockville, buddy! I can't believe—"

But then the answer to the problem hit me. Because I had created such a thorough outline, because I knew the arcs of my main characters and knew where the story was headed, my narrative was taking on a life of its own. The solution to the conflict in my plot was already in the story, I just hadn't seen it yet.

Had it not been for my outline I could've wasted hours, maybe even days trying to dig myself out of the plot hole. But after a few minutes of skimming my outline I had a solution.

Outlining has saved my life multiple times. There are good ways to do it, and bad ways to do it, and, in my opinion, downright wrong ways to do it. I'm not saying it's the only way to write, just that this is one example of how it has worked for me.

From Tohellwithit: Those Spiders Are Too Big!

I love living in Maui.

I hate spiders.

No one told me about Hawaii's Giant Cane Spider (capitalized and bolded for effect). That's one of the things you learn after you get here.

I know what you're thinking. "Spiders. What's the big deal?"

Heck, I grew up in rural Vermont around barn spiders and big hairy wolf spiders, but cane spiders are different. They're like spastic anorexic acrobats if acrobats were the things nightmares are made of.

Cane spiders are about the size of a can of tuna, with leg spans that can equal up to five inches. They're super fast, they jump, and, oh, their eyes glow. Did I mention that? Shine a flashlight on them and their freaking eyes light up like headlights. Like demonic silver headlights from the pits of hell.

As if this creature couldn't get any weirder, it doesn't spin webs, it carries its egg sack in its mouth, and it only comes out at night because darkness is how it hides so it can murder you. See? This thing was created to haunt your dreams.

I might be slightly exaggerating.

Maybe.

Truthfully, I really can't complain. Cane spiders are harmless to humans and total pussy cats when it comes to confrontation. On the plus side they eat cockroaches—another one of Maui's delightful little natives that no one tells you about until you're here.

Still I'd prefer my house free of intruders with eight hairy legs.

Terrified in Tohellwithit,

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From Tohellwithit provides an optimistic/pessimistic view on life, love, and all the things that ruffle our feathers from the mind of author C.W. Thomas.

Chocolate Chip Cookie In A Mug - Oh, The Decadence!

I feel like I have to apologize for this blog. It's a recipe for something truly sinful and delicious and goes against everything my wife tells me do to, which is probably why I make it at 11 o'clock at night after she's gone to bed.

I'm talking about Chocolate Chip Cookies. (Bold and underline added for increased impact.)

Actually, in this case, we're talking about a single, hot, gooey, melts-in-your mouth chocolate chip cookie. The best part is this cookie doesn't take an hour to make as you mix the ingredients, roll them into balls, and bake them 12 at a time in the oven.

No, no, no. We're far more clever than that. This recipe takes five minutes to make.

And if you ask if it's a chocolate chip cookie replacement I'm going to slap you. Nothing can replace the chocolate chip cookie. Nothing. Ever! If I have the time and permission from the wife I prefer to make a whole batch of cookies, but when I'm feeling naughty and just want a sweet treat this yummy little devil hits the spot.

I discovered the recipe on FoodGawker a couple years ago, at which point it began popping up on food blogs all over the internet including The Comfort of Cooking, The Sweetest Kitchen, Pure Wow, and pretty much every Pinterest board related to deserts.

I've tried a number of different versions of this recipe, but this one is my favorite. I think the salt and the extra vanilla adds to the flavor.

A FINAL WARNING: Make this at your own risk... and then a drop a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and pour a glass of milk. Ho-ho-holy heaven!

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Chocolate Chip Cookie In A Mug

Ingredients

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
1 egg yolk
3 tablespoons flour
2 heaping tablespoons semisweet chocolate chips

Directions

1. Choose a microwave-safe mug or small bowl. Place the butter in the mug and melt it in the microwave. Don't burn it. The butter should be melted, not boiling.
2. Add sugars, vanilla and salt. As with any chocolate chip cookie recipe be sure to mix it well. I use a fork and mash/stir/fold until everything is well combined.
3. Add the flour, and stir until combined. It should look like real cookie dough. If it's too runny add a touch more flour, or if it's too stiff add a splash of milk.
4. Stir in the chocolate chips.
5. Microwave it for about 30 seconds. If the top of the cookie still looks wet, microwave it for another 10 or 20 seconds. Keep in mind the cookie will continue to cook on the inside while it's in the mug, so you don't have to overdo it. Just get the top of it looking nice and cake like.
6. Drop a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and let it start to melt as you poor yourself a glass of milk.
7. Go somewhere private where the kids and/or spouse can't find you. Let the cookie make love to your mouth. No need to give back. This is all about you. Just relax and enjoy!

How To Effectively Kill Your Facebook Posts

What Facebook knows about us is scary.

I was recently talking to a couple of friends who were surprised by the way Facebook ads almost always seem to have something to do with their recent Google searches or browsing history. I explained that it's because Facebook tracks our every move because they're in the government's pocket and someday the government will use that information against its citizens to eliminate undesirables so they can create a utopian society that takes our children and forces them to compete in rigged death matches for the glory of their district.

I'm not freaking out here. The Hunger Games is seriously prophetic stuff, man!

But I digress.

Okay, it might not all be so cloak and dagger, but there's no question that Facebook is the "big brother" of our time. And it all has to do with some very cleverly written and ever-changing algorithms.

What is an algorithm?

An algorithm is a computer program designed to run a sequence of calculations to acquire and tabulate specific data. An algorithm can be programmed to figure out how many users named Craig stalk your Facebook page, or how many users aged 25 read your blog.

In some cases an algorithm can even be programmed to make decisions.

FOR EXAMPLE:
Facebook's algorithm is designed to red flag posts containing words like "free" and "giveaway." This is because the algorithm assumes those key words have something to do with a business. If it assumes you're trying to make money, Mark Zuckerberg wants in. The job of the algorithm is to find those posts and restrict them unless the user decides to pay Facebook to boost the post's reach.

Most of us already know that Facebook only shows what we post to about 10% of our friends and followers. This algorithm was implemented a couple years ago, and it's a change that pissed off—and continues to piss off—almost every single Facebook user. I mean, what's the point of having every member of my family "friend" me on Facebook if the algorithm is going to show only 10% of them what I post?

When you look at it from Facebook's point of view, however, it makes a lot of sense.

Let's say Facebook is the boss of a large department store and we are the employees. Every day the employees come in and sell their own homemade products. The boss isn't going to like having his store used so other people can make money unless he gets a cut. That's exactly what the CEOs at Facebook decided. There came a point where so many people were using Facebook for their business—and making good money at it!—that Facebook came up with an algorithm to restrict interaction with user posts unless posters paid money to increase engagement.

But, like any good boss, Facebook's algorithm can work with you if you try.

Before I go any further...

How the heck do I know this stuff?

Facebook is a large part of my job. Aside from using it for personal reasons and to promote my novels, I also manage several Facebook accounts for businesses and non-profits. Over the years I've read a lot of blogs and listened to a lot of seminars by business professionals, photographers, experts in the field of social media, and others about the dos and don'ts of Facebook. This is just a bunch of stuff I've picked up along the way.

I don't claim to have it all figured out, and some of this information might change in a few months too because Facebook is continually updating and changing its algorithms.

In the least I hope this information helps make you aware of how the social media "program" works.

Making Mr. Algorithm your friend.

You want to know what really kills a Facebook post?

Inconsistency.

One of the worst social media blunders an author can make is to post twice a day for a week and then drop off the map. Once your Facebook page has gone a few days or longer without you logging in and interacting in some way its algorithm decides you're not very interesting. Suddenly you become like a lover trying to win back your ex and you've got to work hard to convince Mr. Algorithm that your posts are worth distributing again.

Another good way to kill your Facebook posts is to be like that one-sided conversationalist at a cocktail party. Don't get onto social media just to talk about yourself. Nobody likes that guy. You need to click on other people's posts, or comment, or like, and/or share their stuff. This tells Facebook's algorithm that you're an engaged participant. The more you engage the more others will engage with you and the more attention your posts will receive. That's why it's called "social" media.

If you have trouble posting consistently there are a number of online programs that can help you schedule posts on a regular basis such as Hootsuite and MeetEdgar. If you're an author with a Facebook business page (also called a "Like Page") you can even use Facebook's built-in scheduling feature to plan your posts days, weeks, and even months in advance. (Unfortunately this feature is not available for standard Facebook accounts, but anyone can start a "Like Page" if they wish.)

And before you ask, no, there is no data to support the idea that using third party programs to do your posting limits your chances of engagement. As far as I know Facebook's algorithm doesn't care who does the posting, so long as it is on your behalf.

How else can I kill my posts?

Authors like to be perfectionists. It's what makes us so imperfect. It's also why we have the hardest time resisting correcting a post if we publish it with an error. But that's a surefire way to get Facebook's algorithm to red flag your post as redundant. Once that happens even fewer than the already paltry 10% will see your post, if any.

If you really need to make a correction then post it in the comments. You can always upload a corrected version of the post later, but wait an hour or so. Posting the same thing too soon can also raise a red flag. Remember, Mr. Algorithm doesn't like redundancy.

Indies need to support other indies.

The best thing us indie authors can do is partner up with other indies. Make a pact with each other that whenever someone posts something everyone will go and like, comment, or share the post. This will immediately convince Facebook's algorithm that the post is interesting. For every reaction the post gets, the algorithm unveils it to more people. You could even get your friends and family in on this too!

Does all of this sound like more work than it's worth? It's really not. All it takes is five or ten minutes a day of hitting up your friends, family, and favorite Facebook pages and liking and commenting on a few things. Be engaging by getting engaged.

A New Novel In The Works

The rabbit punch is one of the most dangerous blows in boxing.

This term originates from a method used to kill trapped or injured rabbits. Rabbit punching has similar effects on humans, potentially resulting in unconsciousness, severe injuries to the neck and spine, and death. Penalties for rabbit punching depend on the offending boxer's intent and whether the blow leads to injury.

Definition

In boxing, a rabbit punch typically refers to a punch to the back of an opponent's head, the base of the skull or the back of the neck. This term is sometimes used to refer to other illegal punches, including blows to the kidneys and back. Because of this and the risk of penalization, boxers rarely intend to land such blows. However, unintentional rabbit punches commonly occur as boxers move quickly or lose their balance during a fight.

Origins

The term originates from a method used by rabbit gamekeepers or trappers to kill a rabbit without spoiling its pelt. Delivering a strong, sharp blow to the back of a rabbit's neck at a 45-degree angle dislocates its neck and severs its spinal cord. This is typically performed with a small, blunt object or by using a chopping motion with your hand. If performed correctly, it is thought to be one of the quickest and most humane ways to kill a trapped or injured rabbit.

Risks

Rabbit punching can have the same effect on boxers as it does on rabbits. A boxer can easily render an opponent unconscious with an accurate rabbit punch. This can result in serious injuries to the brain, neck and spine, with additional damage potentially resulting from falling unconscious. Similar to its use by rabbit gamekeepers and trappers, a rabbit punch in boxing is potentially lethal.

So?

I'm aiming to write to market a mystery/thriller. The idea originated from a cluster of ideas that have been bouncing around in my head for years. It has little to do with boxing, and everything to do with a "rabbit punch."

New Hampshire’s Hatchland Farm’s Coffee Milk Reigns

Maui has it's perks, but when I get a hankerin' for Coffee Milk I'm screwed.

Some people put milk in their coffee. At Hatchland Farms in North Haverhill, New Hampshire they put coffee in their milk, a thick, creamy blend of delicious milk with a coffee flavor. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever tasted.

Coffee milk was one of the few things on my list of “must haves” when we recently made a visit to family and friends in Vermont and New Hampshire.

For me, hot coffee on a hot summer morning isn’t all it should be. I love coffee—though I’ve cut back the amount I intake significantly in recent years—but I can’t drink it when I already wake up sweating and it’s 90 degrees outside. Enter Hatchland Farm’s Rippin’ Good Coffee Milk to save the day. It’s the perfect summer morning drink—cool, refreshing, with a punch of coffee to get me started.

Hatchland Farms is a family owned and operated business that produces and processes their own milk and ice cream products. The farm produces milk from 400 cows, processes it on the farm, and sells it to home delivery customers as well as retail stores throughout New England.

Trip Advisor rates Hatchland Farm’s ice cream as the “best in the north country!”

Make Hatchland Farm’s ice cream stand in North Haverhill, NH, a must stop if you decide to visit the North Country!

From Tohellwithit – My Love/Hate Relationship With My Son

I love my son.

I hate taking care of an infant.

Essentially this tiny person who has moved into our house is everything a tyrant would be sans malicious intent—a very sleepy, whinny, messy tyrant. He wants his pacifier, but he doesn't have enough control of his muscles to A. get it in his mouth, and B. not knock it out of his mouth with his flailing hands.

Every 30 seconds I'm like: Just calm down, open your mouth, and take the pacifier. I know you want it. You know you want it. You're just going to get angry if you don't take it, so take it already.

No, you're not going to eat. Mommy just spent 40 minutes feeding you 10 minutes ago. Right now you need to take a nap. Go to sleep.

Did you fill your diaper? Again? Are you kidding me?

Why won't you go to sleep? You're three weeks old and you've been awake for seven hours. That's not normal. I can see in your face how tired you are, so why are you fighting this? Just go to sleep already!

Oh, NOW you want your pacifier? Sorry, I can't find it because of the hundred times you dropped it on the floor it finally got lost. Way to go, kid.

Cry it out.

My son Toby dreaming tyrannical thoughts.

From the blissful state of Tohellwithit,

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From Tohellwithit provides an optimistic pessimistic view on life, love, and all the things that ruffle our feathers from the mind of author C.W. Thomas.

Dear Manuscript: I'd Rather Eat Grass - A Procrastinator's Story

Yesterday you sat idly and watched as I took my screen doors off their rollers. You listened while I used the garden hose to wash them free of the wind-swept dust that had been clouding my view of Maui's Mount Haleakala for too long.

My allergies will probably thank me later.

I knew you were there, Manuscript, listening, waiting for me to come back to you, but I didn't care. You see, I was procrastinating. I didn't really care about the screen doors. I just wanted something else to do.

Procrastination. Such an ugly word, and yet it plagues 95% of writers—the honest ones anyway. Since starting this blog post I've made my wife lunch, changed baby's diaper, checked my email about 500 times, participated in a lengthy web discussion about whether Iron Man has a catheter in the groin of his suit, replied to several Facebook posts by people I haven't spoken to in years, and Googled "why do dogs eat grass," because when I went to type "why do writers procrastinate," dogs eating grass was the first suggestion Google came up with and that sounded far more interesting at the time.

So why do writes procrastinate?

There are a variety of answers, none of which I know because the thing I've spent the last hour reading about is a case study of 49 dog owners whose dogs had regular access to grass and other plants. The study found that 80% of the dogs had eaten plants at some time, with grass being the most common thing eaten. Apparently dogs eating grass is so common that even wild dogs do it.

Believe it or not the most widely accepted scientific theory as to why dogs do this is boredom. I know. I scrunched my face at that too. Even though there may be dietary or nutritional reasons for some dogs to eat grass, most do it simply because their owners don't engage with them enough.

Huh. How sad.

I'm sorry to have ignored you, Manuscript. On the bright side I now have a nice view of Mount Haleakala, a wealth of knowledge on why dogs eat grass, and a brand spanking new blog to send off into the internet. I'll return to you shortly. For now I think I have some vacuuming to do.

Why do we vacuum?

You're doddling writer,

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Dear Manuscript is an ongoing series by author C.W. Thomas discussing his frustrations with those annoying voices in his head.

Click here to read more.

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Surfing

In the same way that some people say "I don't do pain," or "Nope, I don't do spiders," or "snakes," or whatever.

I don't do athletic. I just can't. But I’m tall and trim so I can fool most anybody into thinking I'm in shape.

The truth is if I didn’t have hands to catch myself I’d have no face from all the tripping and falling I’ve done over the years. My nose would be flat. Just a flat nose. Just a flat face with a flat nose because I’m a big non-athletic clutz.

But apparently I’m good at surfing.

On my first wave I jumped to my feet, kept my balance for a short distance, and sat back down before I wiped out. And I actually did that more than once. That’s surfing right? I'll pretend it is.

Our Instructor From The Zoo

I’ve got to give credit to our instructor though, a man who introduced himself as Armadillo, or Armor for short. He claimed to come from the zoo. He has a brother named Possum, and other family members from the rat species.

Honestly, if you asked me if he was kidding, I wouldn’t know what to say. In between pushing back long strands of gnarled blond locks from his copper face and looking like he desperately needed some weed to take his mind off his hangover, for all I know Armadillo probably actually was born in the zoo.

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Surfing

1. Bikinis and Surfboards Don’t Mix
Most movies about surfing always show the female surfers in bikinis because, well, I think the reason is obvious, but after 10 minutes on a surfboard you begin to realize just how unrealistic that is. Surfboards HURT! Even with a long-sleeved surf shirt my stomach and chest were beat red by the end of our lesson and the insides of my thighs were chaffed from straddling the board.

2. Surfing Should Be Called “S.E.D.”
Surfing shouldn’t be called surfing. It should be called Shoulder Exercise, or maybe S.E.D., for “Shoulder Exercise, Dude," because, really, there's little "surfing" involved. There's lots of paddling and chaffing and falling and swimming and praying and looking for sharks, but surfing is actually a very small part of the whole process.

3. "Surfer Dudes" Are Real
They’re not just some stereotype invented for TV. I already told you about Armadillo, who is every bit the laid back surfer dude you’ve ever imagined, but there were plenty of others just like him with long, scraggly hair, sun-spotted skin, and a nonchalant strut.

4. Surfing Will Kill You … No, Really.
Death is a major deal in surfing. If you don’t do it right it will kill you. There are sharks in the water that can kill you. There are rocks and rock walls that a wave can plow you into in a matter of seconds, killing you. If a wave carries you in too far and too fast even the beach will kill you. When you wipe out there are rocks and coral under the water that will gash your body, slice your arms and legs, and, yes, even kill you.

5. Snowboarding Doesn’t Make You A Better Surfer
I was proud to tell Armadillo that I was a fair snowboarder on the wintery cold mountains of Vermont. He just dropped his head between his shoulders and shook his head. Apparently snowboarders are hard to teach. When your brain is so used to having your feet strapped to the board it can be hard to get your mind to remember that surfing requires you to often change your footing.

Going Back for Seconds?

Unfortunately, cameras and surfing don’t mix, so Danielle and I have no actual proof that we did any of this. We intended to go back and take turns surfing while the other took pictures from the shore, but, honestly, surfing can, like, totally freaking kill you, so we decided to get pizza instead.

My Favorite H.G. Wells Quote

The Island of Dr. Moreau is by far one of my favorite books. I first read it as a teenager and have probably read it more times throughout my life than any other book.

As a kid I even memorized the final paragraph. To me this single section of text reveals a profound insight to the human condition. It suggests that nothing we do can fulfill us—not acquiring wealth, not garnering fame, not being in control or chasing after power, status, love, sex, drugs, or anything else. It points to a source of peace far beyond ourselves to something much more esoteric.

The story in The Island of Dr. Moreau is an exploration of humanity's animalistic tendencies. Are we, by nature, animals, or are we held to a greater standard by the concept of morality? If morality does exist, who decides what is moral, and can it save us from ourselves?

In Wells' story this concept is presented by the character of Dr. Moreau, a mad scientist type who creates a race of humanoid beings by genetically modifying animals—pig-men, dog-men, leopard-men, and many others, though sometimes with nightmarish results.

The curious thing about this tale is that without the continued medicinal support of their creator the creatures revert to their more feral natures. Once they became self-aware enough to recognize the cruelty of what Moreau is doing they turn on him, but in destroying him they destroy what they need to survive, essentially destroying themselves.

At the end of the story the main character returns to civilization and struggles to find peace after all the horrors he witnessed on Moreau's island. He turns to astronomy and finds something he did not expect.

And I quote.

"Ah-hem."

Taps microphone.

"There is, though I do not know why there is or how there is, a sense of infinite peace and protection in the glittering hosts of heaven. There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter, and not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men, that whatever is more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope. I hope, or I could not live."

Hope.

Sometimes it's as vague as morality, but according to Wells we can't survive without it. It can't be found in what we can see, taste, or touch, not in our troubles or our worries or our fears, but from somewhere else.

And maybe it's found in different ways for different people, but this much is clear: as I watch our society destroy itself under its myriad of petty arguments on racism, gender issues, politics, ethics, religion, and more, it becomes increasingly apparent that people need to shift their focus. The more time we spend obsessing on all these issues, fostering dissension, hate, and fear, the further we fall from hope.

Update On Book 3 - Somewhere Around Chapter 35

The deeper this series goes the more the story takes on a life of its own. This wasn't entirely unexpected. The outlines of the first four books that were created, and the conceptualizing of the following four left plenty of room for flexibility. The final book has not been outlined at all. That one is in fate's hands.

But things have taken on a life of their own sooner than expected.

Last week two of the seven main characters were ready to have their narratives reach a climax, much sooner than planned, I might add. The setting changed. The timing changed. These two characters suddenly came together and wanted to have a big finale. Nothing wrong with that, just surprising is all. It's wonderful when characters take on a life of their own, but challenging as well.

The chapters that came as a result of this sudden merger were a delight to witness, with short, rapid-fire moments that bounce from character to character catching different beats of action as the story slingshotted to the end.

It won't be long now, and draft one of book three will be complete.

Stay tuned,

From Tohellwithit – Bad Driving Habits

Introduction
From Tohellwithit is a new series I'll be updating periodically with my optimistic pessimistic thoughts on life, love, and all the monotonous annoyances that ruffle my feathers. Through it I hope to amuse a few readers and provide myself a therapeutic outlet. Enjoy!

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I love driving around and seeing the sights of Maui.

I hate how the locals drive.

PRO TIP

If you ever come to a stop light in Maui, wait a few seconds after the light turns green before you actually go, otherwise you run the risk of getting T-boned by what I have affectionately come to call "a complete moron."

It took me a while to figure this out. I'd be at an intersection three or four cars back. The light would turn green, but nobody would move.

"Move!" I'd say while lifting my hands up off the steering wheel, the universal gesture for, What in God's name are you people doing?

Then one day while approaching an intersection I watched the light turn red as I slowed to a stop, but the car ahead of me plowed through.

"He just ran a red light!" I declared to my wife. "That light turned red looong before he reached the white line. What a complete moron!"

Running red lights is so common in Maui that the locals have learned once a light turns green you need to wait a few seconds just in case there's a red light runner.

Too bad the cost of living in paradise has to be common sense.

From the blissful state of Tohellwithit,

World, Meet My Son

My son has arrived! He weighed 8 pounds, 10 ounces, and was 22 inches long. His name is Tobias Alexander (when I'm mad at him), but most of the time we just call him Toby.

If I could use one word to sum up what I witnessed as my wife labored and gave birth, it would be strength. I saw my wife do the miraculous. I saw her push past limits I never knew she had. I saw two midwives watch stunned at not only the long, hard labor she endured, but the steadfast, resilient, determined, way she handled it with no meds, no hospitals, and after 24 hours of no sleep.

Several times the midwives made remarks like, "Your pain threshold is unbelievable," "You haven't complained once," and "I wish more women handled labor like this."

They were in awe. I was in awe. I've never been more honored to call myself her husband than I am today.

My favorite moment.

Toby was doing fine until his head emerged. His right hand was trapped behind his head by his umbilical cord that was also wrapped around his neck. There were a few moments of worry as the midwives worked to get him free of his little tangled mess.

When he finally came free of the birth canal, the midwives tried to get him to breathe, but he wouldn’t make any noise. They cleared his nose and mouth of fluid, but he still wouldn’t suck in air. 

Dani started praying out loud, “Dear Jesus, help Toby breathe.” The midwives said, “Talk to your baby. Let him hear your voice.” “Breath, Toby,” Dani said. “Come on, Toby.”

That’s when I leaned down real close to him and said, “Hey Toby. This is your daddy. You need to breathe buddy.”

And at the sound of my voice he inclined his head to me and squeaked for the first time.

Dear Manuscript: No, You Can't Drive

We started out on this journey together with a working understanding of each other's roles. Or so I thought.

I was the driver. You were the road. I was making the turns, reading the maps, deciding if west was better than east or if a pitstop couldn't wait until the next Burger King where I could get a large fry and an ice cold Dr. Pepper.

But you decided Dr. Pepper wasn't worth waiting for. You wanted to stop at McDonald's for a far inferior Coke from a watered down soda machine. So you took over. I don't know when, but somehow you managed to wiggle yourself down into the driver's side and plop me in the passenger's seat strap me into a carseat in the back like a wailing infant. Just who do you think you are?

We need to find a way to work together again. I understand that you've got your own ideas, and that most of them stem from nothing more than intuition, but sometimes we need to plan ahead. (I'm sorry, but Prince Tristian Elle cannot become king of Tranent. It doesn't make sense, no matter how much you want it to. I think. Actually, I don't know about that one yet. It might be kind of fun.)

But I digress.

Let's reevaluate, because my plans for this series are flying wildly off course and I think it's because I've given you the reins one too many times. You had a few good ideas, but it's over. This is a partnership, not a dictatorship. We're like the United States from a hundred years ago, not this tyrannical do-whatever-the-hell-it-wants governing body ruling over us now.

So calm down with your fly-by-the-pants ideas and let's work together on this. We're only at book three with six more to go. Capisce?

Your backseat writer,

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Dear Manuscript is an ongoing series by author C.W. Thomas discussing his frustration with those annoying voices in his head.

Click here to read more.

Dear Manuscript: Where Do We Go From Here?

Dear Manuscript is a series by author C.W. Thomas updated periodically with his thoughts on the hair-pulling frustrations of being a writer. The characters in his manuscript talk to him, and so this is his outlet to talk back. It's sort of a "Dear Diary" meets a Michael Bay film, but no boobs. Please like and comment and give this indie writer some love.

Thanks!

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Dear Manuscript is an ongoing series by author C.W. Thomas discussing his frustration with those annoying voices in his head.

Click here to read more.

Is Rewriting While Writing A Crime?

Is it okay for a writer to stop part-way through a first draft to go back and rewrite something?

Ooh, rewriting while writing. Tsk, tsk. This question comes up a lot among writers, and I don't entirely understand why.

Writing is a creative process. If you overthink it you'll lose that creative edge, that part of you that imbues the writing with the most... you. Keep in mind I'm talking about the creative aspect of writing here, not editing or proofreading or punctuation or any other technical aspect. Those come later.

In the beginning, you just need to get out of you what's inside you. Get that first draft done by any and all means necessary. If that means going back and rewriting something, do it! If you think it will slow you down then write a note to yourself about what you want to rewrite so you don't forget, and keep going.

Just write.

It frustrates me when I see writers getting hung up on questions like this. I've been writing novels since I was 15 years old, and it never occurred to me that going back to rewrite something as I was still writing might be wrong. I never asked if I should be outlining or not. I never wondered about what writing software to use. I just wrote.

And wrote, and wrote, and wrote.

The great majority of writers barely finish one novel. By the time I was 17, I had written three, one of which was published. To date I've completed nine.

Proceed with caution

If you do go back to rewrite something, don't start editing.

EXAMPLE
I'm working on chapter twenty-six of book three in my medieval fantasy series Children of the Falls. I just recently went all the way back to chapter one to re-write something—I wanted to write a secondary character into a certain scene. As I read through what I had already written I noticed typos, misspellings, passive voice, but I ignored all of it. I'll clean that stuff up in editing. My objective—my only objective—was to rewrite a portion of a scene to include a secondary character. That's it. Done. Moving on.

My point is simple. Do whatever you got to do to get that first draft down. Don't worry about how I do it. Don't worry about how J.K. Rowling does it. Stop perusing writing forums and Facebook pages asking formatting questions and comparing your process to the processes of others.

Just. Write.

Author Interview: John L. Monk

"Just ask yourself how many times in your life you've been forced to go to the emergency room. ... Even without the skills of our forebears, human life is delicate and nature is brutal."

—JOHN L. MONK

I came across John L. Monk's "Kick" while searching for something to read on a flight to Hawai'i in January 2015. John's intriguing story, sharp prose, and clever wit hooked me from the get-go and I've been a fan ever since.

Buy Hell's Children

His latest book, "Hell's Children," just hit the market. Though a departure from his usual genre it's a great read, and John's distinctive style isn't lost. The story revolves around a group of teenagers who find themselves the sole survivors of a sickness that has wiped out everyone over the age of sixteen. This story of survival pits society's "cabbages," teens who can only thrive in a coddling environment, against the "weeds," those tough-as-nails kids willing to do what it takes to survive.

To celebrate the release of his new book—and partly because I'm just plain nosy—I asked John for an interview, which he generously provided.

C.W. Ok, first of all, if the scenario in Hell’s Children actually happened, would John L. Monk be a cabbage or a weed?

J.L.M. Hah, I first conceived the whole "cabbages and weeds" view of the world by reading the autobiography of Ben Franklin and thinking, "Wow, he ran away at fourteen to start a business. Can you imagine the pampered, texting, video game-playing kids these days doing anything so gutsy, so ambitious?" I thought about the hard life Ben and the early Americans lived and how they could do so incredibly much: build a house from the raw materials at hand, feed themselves off the land, make their own clothing, birth a nation. Amazing stuff.

And to answer your question, I'd totally be a cabbage. I don't know how to do any of that stuff. Sure, I can fish, kill some poor deer or something and try to eat it. But to write the book, I spent a lot of time on Youtube figuring stuff out, reading articles online, that kind of thing. In a post-apoc situation, the Internet goes away. Danger lurks everywhere. Just ask yourself how many times in your life you've been forced to go to the emergency room. I can count six or seven times, all of them potentially life threatening. Even without the skills of our forebears, human life is delicate and nature is brutal.

The character Jack is unique. His survivalist parents taught him lots of stuff that’s lost on kids today. Is this how you were raised? If not, how did you devise Jack’s upbringing? Did you watch a lot of “Doomsday Preppers?”

Me raised like that? Heck no. I was raised by Jack Tripper and Andy Griffith and Whatchu-talkin'-bout-Willis. I watched a lot of TV. Ok, not entirely true—I went fishing a lot, ran out in the woods looking for snakes, shot guns while visiting my great grandparents in West Virginia, but that was about as grizzled as it got. My education was limited to whatever I could scrape from school and still get a passing grade. Mostly, I read fantasy and science fiction. That, at least, gave me some perspective on the level of my ignorance. To counteract that, I suppose that's why I got a degree in Anthropology. I learned a lot from that—how to think about people and understand why they do things. Empathy has been my biggest strength as a writer.

Oh, and about "Doomsday Preppers"—that show really bugs me. I love seeing all the preppers, what they do, all the ideas and stuff. But then along comes the stupid Nat Geo know-it-all at the end telling us (the audience) just how implausible the various doomsday scenarios are. And the arguments they use are pretty indefensible—provided there's no one around to defend against them, in which case they get to "win" or whatever. So I stopped watching it.

I couldn't agree more. The so-called "reality TV" is all about making fun of people. There's very little "real" about any of it.

If you want good survival stuff, go listen to podcasts like "The Survivalist Prepper Podcast" or "The Survival Podcast," or check out forums like "survivalistboards.com." The TV stuff is heavily-edited, exploitative, and unfair.

Your book explores some pretty dark aspects of humanity, and what teenagers of today might become in a world without electricity, supermarkets, and adult supervision. What sort of experiences have you had, or what research did you do, to capture all of that so vividly?

To be honest, I still remember what it was like in high school, on the playground, on the baseball team when the coach wasn't looking. Kids can be vicious, cruel, and shockingly stupid. And the ones that aren't are victims to the ones that are. Just look at some of the more famous "bullying" videos on YouTube and you'll see. But for a handy camera at the right time, those stories would never have seen the light of day. As for research, every day on Facebook turns up story after story of boys or girls beating up some old person for "disrespecting" them (if a reason is given at all). The research is all around us, it's abhorrent, and it's just getting worse.

Post-apocalyptic fiction isn’t a genre you’ve explored before. What made you decide to tackle this subject?

I've always loved the genre. I've read about twenty "Death Lands" novels by James Axler, "One Second After," "Lucifer's Hammer," "Alas Babylon," "The Stand," "Z For Zachariah," and a bunch more I can't recall. I love The Walking Dead. It's interesting to me. And there's an audience for it. I'm a writer. I sit in a chair for hours at a time sweating over commas and stuff—it's a lot of work. And when I'm done writing something, I want it to be read. Writing in a popular genre that I personally enjoy is a great payoff for all that work.

But despite the personal benefit (money, ego-stroking), I also wanted to talk about "kids these days." The story is sort of a wake-up call. Go read Angela's Ashes. Frank McCourt used to watch the men of Limerick ride the coal wagon to the mines every day. He describes all the kids standing along the road watching them, dreaming of the day they could do the same. Can you imagine "kids these days" wanting to work in a coal mine? Any kid caught wanting such a thing would be seen as an aberration—a "chump" for wanting to do hard work like a grownup. Smart kids in school are called nerds, at best, and beaten up at worst. Not that there's a lot of kids getting smart in schools these days, but that's another discussion.

Post-apocalyptic novels are the rage these days. How were you influenced by other books in this genre, and how did you design “Hell’s Children” to stand apart?

Those books I mentioned were heavy influences. I would read them and think, "What would I do in this situation?" With my limited survival knowledge, I rarely had a good answer. So that's another great reason I chose children to survive the apocalypse, and it goes back to the whole "cabbages and weeds" thing: I'm simply not that smart. I think I have a lot of empathy, so I know how kids would behave—how humans would behave. But knowing how to survive on my own without the benefits of civilization requires research. And research is time consuming. If I write about kids undergoing a terrible calamity (like all the adults dying), suddenly I don't have so much research.

Smart move. And it makes your story feel all the more plausible.

Exactly. Like me, the kids don't know very much. Shoot an animal, cut off a piece and eat it? Makes perfect sense to the cabbages in the story. For Jack's character, I had to research how to field dress an animal, and what parts you'd consume if you wanted to survive (hint: the organs—that's where all the vitamins and minerals are). So writing about kids was a great way to focus on story and less on data. Motivations and cause and effect. That's what people read books for. Not data.

I’ve always admired your prose. It’s concise, it’s clever, and very direct. Tell us about your writing process. What does it look like? How do you best like to work? Do you have any weird quirks? Do you write naked?

Haha. No, I've never written while naked. Too many dangly bits to deal with.

And thank you for the compliment on my typing practice—I try my best. Well actually, that's not entirely true. I make a serious effort to write something good, I read it a bunch of times, changing as I go along, get it edited, read it again two to three more times, changing as I go (putting in new typos and stuff), then I publish it. Then very nice readers tell me quietly about the remaining typos, which freaks me out (I get embarrassed about that kind of thing) and I go put the fixes in and hope nobody notices.

You do that too? No way!

And I write direct prose because when I try to write flowery stuff it comes out contrived. Sometimes I turn a pretty little phrase here and there, and that's always great. I try to get maybe one good turn of phrase in per chapter. Something memorable, if possible. Usually it's something funny. But I don't dress up every page in purple prose. And I don't have any weird quirks that I know of. I suppose you could say I pants all my novels, but a lot of people do that. I macro-outline the general story I wanna write, whether that happens or not. I jot a few sentences at the top of each chapter saying where I would like it to go (again, whether that happens or not).

What does John L. Monk like to do when he's not writing?

Read, eat, take naps, go to the movies, go out to eat (the dining experience), drink whiskey and hang out with my wife, or hang out with friends. I like fishing, but only if it's convenient, and right now it isn't. Really, I get a lot of enjoyment from the indie writing community. I love corresponding with other authors, seeing what they're up to, hearing them on various podcasts. Great fun.

What sorts of things have you learned about yourself while writing?

I guess the biggest thing I've learned is that I can start a difficult project, finish it, and not screw it up too badly. Finishing a novel is a major thing. Lots of people have tried, but only a small percentage of the ones who tried ever managed it. I've finished five so far, and that's a real confidence builder.

What books are you reading right now? Any new indie authors we should check out?

At the moment, I'm reading "Mutation" by Nerys Wheatley. It's a cool book with a different take on zombies. I'm also re-reading "Turning Pro" by Steven Pressfield. If you're a writer, read it. Also read it if you're anything else—the stuff in that book applies to just about everyone.

Have we seen the end of Jack and the “Hell’s Children”?

I sure hope not. I'm hammering away naked right now trying to write the next one! I hope to get it out before September, because of Amazon's horrible 90-day cliff where they drop you off the radar. But I won't compromise quality for speed. Once the book is ready, I'll think up a series name (ugh), slap that on both covers, and get it out there. Hopefully sales stay strong throughout. There's nothing more motivating than steady sales of book one when you're trying to write book two.

I think Jack is a fascinating character with a lot of potential. I look forward to where you take the story from here.

Read more about John's work at john-l-monk.com. "Hell's Children" is available now on Amazon, and don't forget to check out John's other books, including "Kick," "Fool's Ride," "Hopper House," and "Thief's Odyssey."

10 Things I’ve Learned With Apartment Living

I haven’t lived in an apartment in almost twenty years.

Many of my earliest childhood memories take place in Unit F, a small two bedroom apartment in Lyndon Center, VT. There were five other units in the building, and while growing up I experienced a range of colorful people moving through them.

As a kid I wasn’t world-weary enough to know how humble those beginnings were. So as an adult moving to Maui, the idea of living in an apartment didn’t sound too bad. And it’s not.

Mostly.

But I’ve changed. Or maybe living in a house for the last twenty years—three of those years were spent living in my OWN house—kind of ruined me for apartment living, even if our complex is right across the street from the ocean.

Seriously, this is the view from the front of our building!

Here’s what I’ve learned so far.

1. NOISE.

There’s a couple acres of “common area” outside encircled by the four buildings that make up our apartment complex. Every day it gets filled with about 60-80 kids playing hopscotch, basketball, volleyball, tag, yelling, screaming, laughing. It can be kind of a madhouse.

2. SMELLS.

Smells are everywhere. Every time I step out into the hallway there’s a new smell. Sometimes it’s a good smell—like if the guy across the hall is cooking a steak. Sometimes it just smells like old cigarettes and body odor.

3. COMMUNAL LIVING.

In an apartment building no unit is an island unto itself. Every bang on the walls, every fast food wrapper that gets dropped in the elevator, every time someone breaks the washing machine because they overloaded it, EVERYTHING becomes a part of your neighbors’ lives. It's called communal living, and it surprises me how few people understand this concept. Most everyone lives day and night like no one else exists, having shouting matches with their significant others, drunken profanity-ridden tirades, loud music, parties.

I find myself asking, "Are people really so stupid as to be this oblivious?"

And myself answers, "You were being rhetorical right?"

4. TINY SPACES.

You just can’t keep a small apartment clean. Ever. There’s only a few nooks and crannies and drawers to hide stuff, everything else has a designated “pile.”

5. THE LAUNDRY.

Doing laundry isn’t as simple as “throwing in a load.” First, you need a stash of quarters to use the communal washers and dryers, and then you need to time your wash cycles in between everyone else’s—if they're kind enough not to let their freshly dried clothes sit in the machine half the day.

6. SPEED BUMPS.

Urgh! The driveway that circles the complex was recently converted from a two way into a one way, but they didn’t remove the speed bumps. So at every entrance, at every corner, there’s not ONE speed bump, but TWO, not ONE chance to slow to .5-miles-per-hour and enjoy a miniature earthquake, but TWO! It’s like having a roller coaster in your own backyard... sans everything that makes roller coasters fun.

7. COMMON DECENCY.

Some people don’t have it. They smoke cigarettes in the entryway (even though the building policy clearly states smokers must be a minimum of twenty feet from the building). They walk around without shirts on, beer bellies on proud display. They curse at their kids in the parking lot. They have domestic fights at the top of their lungs that go on for hours—seriously, how can anyone yell and curse for an hour?

8. WE HAVE A POOL!

In the daytime the pool is pretty much vacant until the kids get home from school, so Dani and I try to use it shortly before noon. She likes laying out in the sun. My Scottish skin doesn’t. So while she tans I sit in the shade and read.

9. SIMPLE LIVING.

We left Vermont with four suitcases full of the bare necessities. It was hard leaving so much behind, but we’re realizing how easy it is to get along without so much... stuff. Would my waffle maker be nice? Sure, but you know what, pancakes are just as good!

10. IT’S PARADISE.

I mean, really, at the end of the day I’m still living in freaking Maui! Every night as Dani and I pray together I’m thankful for how blessed we are to be here.

From Un-me To Real Me: The Birth of "Children of the Falls"

Part 7

We now return to the exciting adventures of Craig William Thomas, his turbulent start as a writer, his hatred for all things Twilight, and how a dip into the waters of self-publishing re-ignited his passion for writing.

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If you're truly passionate about something you can't give up on it. Even if you try, your passion won't let you.

I tried to ignore my passion for writing for six years—there had just been too many disappointments and unfulfilled expectations. I thought I was done. I thought my interest in writing was a phase that had come and gone.

But passions don't die.

My employer had recently cut my hours to 20 per week. On top of finding myself with extra time on my hands, a royalty check from Amazon for some ebooks I had self-published lit a spark under my butt.

And that's when my desire to write returned with a vengeance. Unbeknownst to me an entire cast of characters had been building in my brain and they had a lot to say! Once I started letting them speak they wouldn't shut up. For a year I wrestled with sleep, anxiety, and attention problems as these characters poured their souls out to me. I couldn't write fast enough. The story just flowed.

Children of the Falls was born.

Where Serpents Strike Children of the Falls, Vol 1

Where Evil Abides Children of the Falls, Vol. 2

And this time, I didn't care about Stephenie Meyer and her crappy multi-million dollar novels. I wasn't writing to compete with her. Nor was I writing to impress some big publishing house. They could go play their money-grubbing marketing schemes all they wanted, preferably far away from me. I also decided I wasn't concerned about an audience. I had wasted too many years writing what I thought people wanted to read. It was clear to me that, good or bad, people would read anything, so trying to convince them that my work was superior to anyone else's was a waste of time.

I was writing for an audience of one—me. I was going to write my ultimate story. It would incorporate everything I love, take all the directions I wanted it to take, be as violent and scary and fantastical as I wanted it to be.

Sorry mom.

Children of the Falls actually began with an idea I had about nine years prior. The idea was simple: make an army of medieval super soldiers by training children from the youngest age possible. Think Spartan warriors meets kung-fu meets horror movies.

I had actually outlined a trilogy of books based on this premise called Edhen that I tinkered with over the years, but I was never satisfied with it. It served as the backbone to this new incarnation, expanding from three books to nine, from a trilogy spanning one continent with multiple kingdoms to three continents, dozens of kingdoms, multiple religions, languages, and cultures, and hundreds of characters.

It's been a fascinating journey, but something tells me it's just getting started.

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Part 1: From Un-Me To Real Me: Discovering My Passion For Writing

Part 2: From Un-Me To Real Me: Writing For My Mother

Part 3: From Un-Me To Real Me: What I Learned From Horror Movies

Part 4: From Un-Me To Real Me: Giving Up On My Dreams

Part 5: From Un-me To Real Me: How Stephenie Meyer Killed My Muse

Part 6: From Un-me To Real Me: How Getting Laid Off Gave Me My Spark Back

Part 7: From Un-me To Real Me: The Birth of "Children of the Falls"