Why Adventurers Have No Friends

It probably comes as no surprise that I love adventuring. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that on my life priority list, creature comfort ranks substantially below Adventure.

For the record, I am not a monastic adventurer. I am certainly not morally opposed to creature comforts. I am writing on a computer, sitting in an air conditioned house. My chair is, well, other than being on the verge of breaking, it is … uncomfortable. (I should name it Adventure.) So maybe the chair doesn't qualify as a creature comfort, but I am enjoying a cup of coffee. That said, I am always thinking about something adventurous. Naturally, in my writing, adventures seem to find their way in. Hence, when I set out to write a children's book, the series, The Adventures of Boathouse Mouse is what came about.

What precipitated this line of thought this morning? It so happens that I have Book 3 in the series written in my head. I have also begun to write it on electronic paper. But, since Book 1 is nearing the finish line with the illustrations, and Book 2 has yet to be revealed, I feel like I am going to drown poor Shawna.

Dear Shawna, I am so sorry that I am a mad man who is up hours before the rest of the world on a holiday weekend, writing in peace, and making more work for you. Good thing we are not being driven by deadlines. Although, I suspect that day will come and some production-mined publisher will get us to agree to a deadline and we will be all hours finishing a work. But, hopefully by then we'll be getting paid well. Who knows? Meanwhile we press on making our respective art work the best we can.

P.S. I think you're doing an awesome job. I cannot wait to read Book 1 in The Adventures of Boathouse Mouse to my granddaughter!

So, for all of you who are adventurers at heart, never satisfied to sit and watch TV, and those of you who prefer your adventurers served vicariously, I wish you all a safe adventure this Independence Day weekend.

Someday I will do a blog on the paradox of safe adventures. But for now we'll leave that dog sleeping.


Gepetka, Prince of Gypsies is now available!

Am I excited? Yes!

In honor of daughter Irene's service in the US Navy, and on the day which she has officially become a civilian again, I present to you Book 3 in the Kingdom of the Falcon series.


They are short on tact:

Subconsciously she touched the cut on her forehead and asked, “Is it that bad?”

His trance was abruptly broken.“Oh, no,” he waffled, “Well, it is sort of … yeah, it looks pretty bad.”

Long on humor:

She gave him a sidelong look and, leaning toward him, whispered, “An old woman, smelling of liquor, asked if you beat me.”

… “I said I hit you twice as hard as you hit me.”

Completely unpredictable:

The razor-sharp belt dagger was drawn deftly and the frightened Gypsy pricked his thumb deeply. The family of the warlord jumped at the sudden move and the blood welled up deep red and convincing.

And primed for adventure:

The crack across his nose sent him sprawling and, in an instant, Lord Nolridge possessed the sword.    …

Gepetka found his voice first and asked what everyone was thinking. “How did you learn that?”

As Lord Nolridge climbed onto Gepetka's cart, he gave the young man a pained look, then slowly replied, “I suppose the same way you learned to be a Gypsy.”