So, Now What?

So, Now What?

BR Chitwood

*

Another move!

Sold our beautiful South Mountain Retreat – could not turn down the price…yeah, I know, money is not everything! Couple it, however, with home prices ‘through the roof’, a body getting older and less functional with each passing day plus a handsome payoff and a temporary move-in with our good and wise daughter, my wife doing all the work (I know, I know! I’m worthless!) and me sitting sprawled on my ‘lift chair’ already typing this short post… A lovely couple, Blake and Claudia along with their beautiful Lab, Sami, are the new owners – Blake, a Clinical Psychologist and, Claudia, a Registered Nurse – beautiful people from the far west.

Aging of course comes with strange catalysts, like, a sudden fall or short memory recall…just laying the foundation like it is, the result of a couple of falls, some aches and pains.  I can still walk and get around, have family who cater to my needs – and, wow, I use this to the greatest ‘poor me’ extent possible. Actually, the place I feel still secure within myself, still viable in my writing, is when I open this laptop gadget and start my pecking.

You can take this to the bank: I shall know when my words become too mundane and without any solid penmanship…maybe this short post will give one pause as to the viability of my writing…,

  That is when I will ‘rock you’ with a scintillating short story, flash fiction, and/or poetry. Writing has been such a strong force for so many years, it would be sacrilege not to obey its enticements.

So, no earth-shattering piece here, just some facts of my aging life for my small cadre of readers and writers.

 My wife did all the work, so why am I so damned tired?

Just saying!

*

BR Chitwood – May 9, 2022

Go to Word Press for synopses of my twenty books, over 400 blog posts, short stories, flash fiction, and poetry.

https://www.brchitwood.com

Do You Know This Man?

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Do You Know This Man?

By BR Chitwood

Do You Know This Man?

No? I knew him, not so well, some forty years ago…he was a habitue, a devotee, of the Phoenix neon night life, searching for parts of himself he lost along a long emotional road from the hills of Appalachia: lost in an abusive and disoriented childhood; lost in a flawed and impetuous marriage; lost in the glittering promise of booze and women. Yes, I knew him, not so well, as he made all his stumbles along the way, losing not only himself but the connections to family and friends, to the people who loved him.

Yes, of course, I’m the man in the photo, and there’s a lot more to the story…hope you’ll read THE CRACKED MIRROR, Reflections of an Appalachian Son, by Billy Ray Chitwood.

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Amazon Worldwide

https://www.brchitwood.com

Excerpts from “The Cracked Mirror…”

***

In the end, my story must be like so many others, a story of a simple kid who grew up eating emotional soup and spending a lifetime trying to digest it. There are no spectacular or heroic moments. I’ve been in the United States Navy, but I’ve never fought a war—except the one I’ve declared within myself. So I know not the pain of holding a bleeding comrade to my bosom as he or she gasps the final breaths. I know not the anguish of a parent losing a child in an accident, or, in war—unless losing a child to drugs can be comparable. I’ve loved and been in love, but I’ve never stepped far enough from myself to know the true and natural profundity of its happiness and joy. I’ve been born but never died—unless the demon of the past is segmented death. The prospect of dying scares the hell out of me—not so much the prospect itself, but the pitiful legacy that is left behind. I’ve known insecurity and fear, along with self-confidence, loyalty, and pride. There have been the sins, small enough, I hope, to keep me at least somewhere in the thoughts of those I’ve loved. At times I’ve longed for ‘Nepenthe,’ the drug mentioned in ‘The Odyssey’ as a remedy for grief, the potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain and sorrow. But, then, without some pain, can the soul truly seek refuge when the long journey is over?

***

The jail cell brought back sobriety and a stark reality. Sitting on a hard dirty ‘bed thing’ in the dimly lit, tiny barred enclosure, the demon thoughts came and possessed me. My world was disintegrating around me! The claustrophobic cell was my coffin of contriteness, a veritable symbol of my languishing life. There again was the ‘dark closet’ feeling within me, an anxious and suffocating hell! Grabbing at the bars I pitifully called out to the jailer, but no one came. Within the limited space I paced, stopped at the ugly stained wall, splayed my body against it, and tapped my forehead against its roughness. The jailer eventually came. He showed me a smile of compassion and told me that morning would come soon; then, I would be arraigned. The fitful night would pass.

***

It is Time that wears down the acts and deeds of man into something forgettable, mundane, heroic, noble, historical, and unforgettable. It is Time that leads us warily toward the greatest secret of all: That which lies beyond the dark veil!

***

“…There are men like you in the world, Prentice, through whatever kind of intervention, divine or otherwise, who must make us cry and laugh, who record for us the stirrings of the soul which we might otherwise never know.”

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BR Chitwood

Okay, here I am today, no longer chasing those windmills, still trying to figure out this ‘one foot in front of the other’ thing. There are times when it seems I’m pretty close to figuring out this grand production, but those times are little teaser moments to stir something in the soul — sort of like a dreaded visit to a doctor or dentist, getting the car repaired – feels great when you find out the blood pressure is normal (thanks to a little round pill taken each day), the teeth cleaning and exam present no new cavities, and the car now carries no shameful dent.

All in all, living for some years on the rolling bluegrass hills of lovely Kentucky, a good wife, an aging, lovable cat, great daughters and sons, have given me happiness and joy. Back in Arizona the past still gets in my way at times in inscrutable ways, like a misty longing for something valuable I’ve left behind. I’ve never abandoned my faith, though fragile it might be, and there are many more good days than bad,

With all this said, I’m still writing, still searching…guess that only stops when mortal time gives up on me…

 BR Chitwood – April 6, 2022

If you like books of mystery, suspense, action, romance, many of which are inspired by true events, please visit my website at  https://www.brchitwood.com – after a short bio, just scroll down the ‘home’ page to preview the books and synopses of each.

More: It’s all here: https://www.brchitwood.com

*

Nine of the author’s 20 books shown below…  Go to https://www.brchitwood – Website with synopses of all 20 books, over 375 blog posts, short stories, poetry, songs, author info, and BUY SITES AT YOUR AMAZON SITE…

Please visit! You will find some good reading with ‘BUY SITES’, book reviews, et al!

BR Chitwood – Author

April 6, 2022

NOTE:

All books below have 5-STAR REVIEWS on AMAZON!

***

If you like books of mystery, suspense, action, romance, many of which are inspired by true events, please visit my website at  https://www.brchitwood.com – after a short bio, just scroll down the ‘home’ page to preview the books and synopses of each.

More: It’s all here: https://www.brchitwood.com

*

***

Nine of the author’s 20 books shown above…  Go to https://www.brchitwood – Website with synopses of all 20 books, over 375 blog posts, short stories, poetry, songs, author info, and BUY SITES…

Please visit! You will find some good reading with ‘BUY SITES’, book reviews, et al!

BR Chitwood – Author

April 6, 2022

Too Much to Absorb

BR Chitwood

*

A better person than I can parse and understandthe confounding nature of our world, how we arrive at a multitude of decisions as a disjointed group of politicians handle affairs of our nation from a position of power, personal goals, anger, and disassociation from a particular item of high importance to the people for whom they represent.

 It is my belief that our government handlers are anything but centered to their life-long political biases and hatred for their counter-parts, many so paralyzed by their animosity they would deny their nation responsible representation.

An Appalachian transplant, who am I to have such thoughts?

I saw it at recess on the grounds of my elementary and high schools, in the classrooms, in the halls stalked by bullies… Unlike today, we young people were taught ‘Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic’ so we were spared today’s wide-spread indoctrination of blame, of how and who to hate for society’s slide into racial issues, kept alive and more viable to our youth by an almighty ‘National Association of Teachers Union’.

Okay, sure, we must allow for environmental differences, low IQs, high IQs, parental inability to carefully cultivate and fine-tune tolerance and care for a multitude of beliefs. We are built in our early years and that inculcation en masse make for the world we build.

So, we migrate, spread our selective fine-tuning to other cities, other countries, and the centuries roll on with our human sacrifices, wars, famine, and ultimate destruction and re-building…until!

What?

Our ‘Religions’ speak in different tongues, views that see ‘life and death, heaven, hell’ in totally sharp contrast…

Life goes on.

Death goes on.

Zealots go on.

Will freedom and liberty go on?

Can love conquer all?

Can a ‘Cosmic Wave’ pass over the world, instilling in each of us a predominant theme for living?

Does this ‘Cosmic Wave’ erase all of the frailties of the world?

Does Jesus return to make all things right?

Does another planet in another Solar System come to create a true Eloi?

Are we a ‘Lab Experiment’ that has gone wildly awry?

There is so much good in the world – can it not be an unbreakable bond for humanity?

*

BR Chitwood

https://brchitwood.com

http://twitter.com (@brchitwood)

:

Killing Machines

Actress Brutally Murdered! Unsolved in Phoenix, Arizona

Killing Machines?

BR Chitwood

*

Not so fast!

Killing someone with a gun, hammer, fists, eyes blazing with sadistic, satanic glee must be the most despicable human trait. Yet, somehow, in a hostile war between countries, our warriors are trained to blow their enemies to bloody fragments in many number of ways, and, in the process, find reason to celebrate their victories…it is the essential nature of the warriors – their training includes film, hand-to-hand combat, all numbers of ways to destroy their enemies.

Most of us cannot fathom the beasts within those of us who hate so fervently and vindictively that we cannot control the terrible urges that possess us. Real war builds those elements within us, particularly those of us who live a sheltered life in our religious groups and our private ways of life.

Being a veteran of one of our wars and having lived up close and personally with a good lady friend of my wife and me. That lovely young lady was a secretary for two attorney friends of mine, an actress/model who shared living quarters with my wife briefly before our marriage.

 During one record-hot summer day of a Phoenix, Arizona August evening this lovely lady was savagely murdered in the Northeast desert of Phoenix and left there by the killer for two record-heat weeks to be ravaged by desert denizens and her body unrecognizable… She was found by two terrified young boys during their rock-hunting hobby and rushed to tell police of their find.

My wife, I, and friends of this lady were devastated with the news and mad as hell when we were finally told by the newspapers of the method of her murder. The killer’s method of murdering her, the newspaper told us…the bastard dragged her through the desert, stopping every few yards to slam large rocks down upon her head. The case is now closed, and the beast is still out there somewhere, his crime unsolved.

This case, so far as I know, is still an ‘Unsolved Closed Case’ in the Phoenix PD files. Please, if you have any information about this case, please contact the Phoenix Police Department. Thank you…

Being an author, I ultimately wrote a fictional novel of my friend’s homicide, using library microfiche for the only facts available about the case. That book became the first book of my ‘Bailey Crane Six-Book Mystery Series’. The title of the book: “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery” (Book 1). You can find it on Amazon or the ‘buy site’ at my blogsite/Website:

https://brchitwood.com under ‘Books by BR Chiwood’.

 Thank you and always, good reading…

https://twitter.com  @brchitwood

https://facebook.com/billyray.chitwoodC

Until the End

Until the End

BR Chitwood 

So, it seems I shall be ending this fascinating life adventure as I entered it, confounded by the sounds of jubilation and tears, yet, without a kindly grandmother slapping my rear end to bring the breath of life to a reluctant new birth in a small clapboard house in Appalachia, a saw mill hamlet of dirt roads and a railroad spur for bringing logs to the primary employer of most of its scant population of farmers, most of whom were in a prolonged ‘Great Depression’.

*

As a man ready for his final destiny, a man with precious little of consequence for the reader who might chance upon these few words I write here, the words will have little historic value or any other kind of value that would perpetuate a useful understanding except for some amusing and pathetic experiences. At best, the words herein have been written by many others facing their final breaths of air on this orbital craft that ended up with the name of ‘Earth’.

So, skipping over my apathetic problems with school and teenage acne, some good buddies, and a couple of young ladies I was too dull and dim-witted to approach, and an early entry into the United States Navy, marriage to a ‘Navy Wave’ with her own confused history, college, teaching, and emotional experiences that not only paralyzed me but would put me on the path of unrighteousness…yes, alcohol and lovely women of the night – indeed, a shameful and wonderful foray into an almost every night ‘Whoop-de-do’.

Mistakes of a shameful quality?  

A ‘big time’ Uh-Huh! Years of willful neglect to career and inner peace. Still, it was fun and disaster – now, you know where the phrase came from, wait for it! ‘Honkytonk-Heaven’ or, ‘Neon Madness’.

So much time wasted?

I suppose – but it was my life for a time. Willie Nelson and Julio Iglesias wrote and performed the lyrics and music For All the Girls I’ve Loved Before. It is a song I should have written. In other words, I could not have written a better epilogue for my life.

 My good wife of nearly forty years has encouraged me in my writing efforts, always steadfast and loyal. She also with her love and unselfish nature brings a smile to each new day.

Somehow, in the aging process, I found the gift of writing, much of it venting moments of my life.

Twenty books – some based on true crimes, some in different genres, give glimpses into my life…Romance, Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Sci-Fi, Biography.

Short Stories,  FlashFiction., Poetry and over 375 Blog Posts!

*

Perhaps, I have atoned for some of my ‘low spots’ in life… Regardless, my writing speaks ‘Truth’, and it is my hope that readers can find in my books not only the joy of reading but some essence of inspiration. All my writing can be found at: https://brchitwood.com complete with synopses and Amazon Buy Sites.

Wishing everyone a happy and frustration-free 2022, with the scourge of Covid and Omicron all in our rearview mirrors.

BR Chitwood – Warts and All

Great Reads! Many

BR Chitwood

BR Chitwood (Author) – Warts and All!

December 19, 2021

*

I’ve written over twenty books, over 375 blog posts, short stories, flash fiction, and poetry, all found on my website and blog: https://brchitwood.com.

The books cover most genres, some crime novels depict the author’s factual accounts with some fiction to enrich the drama. There are romance novels, a ‘Bailey Crane’ six-book mystery series, some of which inspired by true events, one science-fiction novel, memoirs that perhaps tells too much about the author’s life.

THE CRACKED MIRROR – Reflections of an Appalachian Son is a narrative about my life, and I use a character – Prentice Paul Hiller – to depict me. In this memoir I use a two-track system for conveying the action taking place: PP Hiller (me) on a ‘Nursing Home’ track, PLUS a track that covers my life. I believe the reader will find THE CRACKED MIRROR an excellent read…of course, my selfish-side believes all my books are excellent.

In my Website – https://brchitwood.com – you will find all my books with cover pics, synopses, and Amazon Buy Sites.

The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son

​​(A fictional memoir – 90% + TRUE)

BR Chitwood

​About a Tennessee boy who ate some emotional soup and spent a lifetime trying to digest it. It is the story of a young man leaving east Tennessee and going in search of himself, unprepared for the adult world he is about to enter. Behind him, and, within him, is the emotional debris of his childhood: abuse, broken family, and a substantial part of his soul. Searching for his identity in isms and bars, he stumbles, gets up, only to find in the end that legacy and meaning are elusive, a ‘white buffalo’ always somewhere in the shadows. 

“The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son” is largely a true story of the author’s own life, a mirror of his past, cracked with the stress of all his memories: a family broken apart by their Appalachian circumstances and the ‘great depression’; a childhood tainted by a father’s abusive nature; an impetuous marriage and a sorrowful divorce; a subsequent search of ‘isms,’ for love and meaning in California and Arizona gin mills; a tableau of horrible events, including a senseless family murder, suicide, and a desert survival.

“The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son,” is the story of fictional Prentice Paul Hiller (Billy R. Chitwood) his life, his heritage, his mistakes, the events that have come to shape him, and the demons within that he cannot dispel. Along the way, he gives his passionate and provocative views on criminal justice, love, politics, religion, war, and his favorite writers. In the end he finds a new love, some hope for redemption, some semblance of meaning and legacy. 

The author’s own family roots trace back to the eleventh century in Chetwode, a lovely hamlet north of London… 5-Star reviews on Amazon.

 
Amazon BUY SITES:

Amazon Universal BUY LINK: mybook.to/B004ZGWQY8
https://www.amazon.com/Cracked-Mirror-Reflections-Appalachian-Son-ebook/dp/B004ZGWQY8/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1511899160&sr=1-1&keywords=the+cracked+mirror+-+reflections+of+an+appalachian+son – US

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Cracked-Mirror-Reflections-Appalachian-Son-ebook/dp/B004ZGWQY8/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1511899160&sr=1-1&keywords=the+cracked+mirror+-+reflections+of+an+appalachian+son – UK

https://www.amazon.ca/Cracked-Mirror-Reflections-Appalachian-Son-ebook/dp/B004ZGWQY8/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1511899160&sr=1-1&keywords=the+cracked+mirror+-+reflections+of+an+appalachian+son – Canada

Thank you for previewing and reading my books. Any comments you might have can be left on this blog or my Web site or at my E-  Mail: brchitwood@gmail.com

I wish everyone good reading!

*

BR Chitwood – December 19, 2021

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!      

https://twitter.com@brchitwood

https://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

Sign-Out

Sign-Out

BR Chitwood

*

The ink in the pen is dry!

So much output!

So little notice!

Shoddy self-marketing!

Calculations, Actions mis-guided!

Message received!

Enjoyed the journey!

Wrote some lovely words and phrases!

Pleased with the writing efforts!

Twenty books in many genres!

All on Amazon!

Over 375 posts, short stories, flash fiction!

Quite an adventure!

Loved Authors friends made!

Good luck to all!

*

BR Chitwood – https://www.brchitwood.com

A Tantalizing Ego Swirl

One-Man Publishing
Not For The Faint of Heart

-Memoir-

A Tantalizing Ego-Swirl

By BR Chitwood

As best as it can the mind opens a menu of items that an individual can consider as an occupation, hobby, a regimen that might fit nicely with the mental and the organic nature of her/his life.

It was my notion that Writing might well be the best place to settle in and do what many teachers and close friends told me I excelled .  As a kid, I loved to put words together and form rhyming schemes. My mind was crowded with daydreams of being an actor, singer, author.

After some years of sales, marketing, and business ownership, I began writing a blog: 350+posts, flash fiction, and short stories.  I also wrote 20 books in many genres (most were books in the Mystery, Suspense, Romance – generally, fictional narratives inspired by real crimes that would receive 5-Star Amazon Reviews…

The ‘monkey on my back’ would turn out to be an inept sales and marketing system, or, lack thereof, relying, as it were, on the social media and book support groups. I was a one-man publishing company who put most of his time into writing, doing his own editing without the professional input from pros, falling far short in the fields where I had made my living for so many years…marketing.

Still, when I released each book there was not the huge launching splash, lined-up book reviewers, the costly (and, needed!) help from the pros. I loved writing and it would become my wont to go from a finished book directly into the next project.

I suppose it was an unbridled RUSH to leave a legacy of   sorts because much of my adult life had been spent in the ‘neon playgrounds’ searching for love in attempts to negate my negative Appalachian roots of poverty, abuse, emotional chaos, and always a sense of longing for the missing links of love and picket fence happiness.

After a US Naval tour of duty and graduation from a small Pennsylvania college, leaving out some drudgery, I headed West to California and found gold – okay, by and large, fool’s gold. The neon glitter got to me, a country yokel blessed with fair looks, a soft, smooth southern charm, an easy prey to lovely women and the ugly taste of alcohol.

It was a great spread of time when I somehow became a partially noticed actor – did many TV commercials, stage play, and film projects. There were some very good times, and, of course, that other kind…

I would finally end up in Phoenix, Arizona, would try marriage a few times and was blessed with beautiful children, built a big house on a hill close to Tombstone (that town in Southeast Arizona ‘too tough to die’) and my serious writing began.  

‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ – Books 1-6, was my first writing project, building my main character mostly around myself, parts true, parts untrue. Bailey Crane tells his own ‘mystery stories’, most of which are taken from true crimes, the narratives invented by me. Of course, Bailey Crane is one of my favorite novel characters because I get to weave in some of my own life experiences through him. He is a crime fighter who is serious and tedious in his detective work and his personal life experiences (guess you could call him my personal Psychiatrist because he and his ‘alter ego buddy’ do a good job in defining me.

The first book in the ‘Bailey Crane Series’ has the title, “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery #1” and this book has a personal side for me. The young actress brutally murdered in this ‘true crime’ fiction was a friend of mine and shared living quarters with my wife before our marriage. The crime is still a ‘cold case’ for the Phoenix Police Department. Anyone who might read this book and has information about this case, PLEASE contact the Phoenix PD Cold Case Division.

The other books in the Bailey Crane Series are also taken from actual crimes… Each book stands alone. Anyone interested in this series can find them, along with my other books from many genres, on Amazon.com and/or my personal Website – https://www.brchitwood.com .

I have written twenty books in the Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Romance, Science Fiction, Memoir genres. All my books, with synopses, are listed on my Website.

With the books I’ve written, there have been no set and professional marketing agenda – my ‘Bad’, I suppose, but I wanted to work through all the processes, a true ‘do it yourself’ approach…through the drafts, the editing, the book covers, et al. My college degree major was English and I have taught ‘Advanced Writing’ classes.

So, I am comfortable in my efforts, and I know that, of those twenty books I have written, there are some real winners… Read this thriller…  “Mama’s Madness” – Read this one… “Stranger Abduction” – Or, read “Dominique” – or, “Phoenix Fire” – or. “Daddy, No!” – or, “Hammer’s Holy Grail” – or, “The Cracked Mirror…” Aw, read them all!

Don’t know if I accomplished anything with this post except a few tears shed…just trying to sell some books I believe to be worthy of reading.

Enough, already! Onward and upward!

BR Chitwood – October 30, 2020

A Tantalizing Ego-Swirl

By BR Chitwood

As best as it can the mind opens a menu of items that an individual can consider as an occupation, hobby, a regimen that might fit nicely with the mental and the organic nature of her/his life.

It was my notion that Writing might well be the best place to settle in and do what many teachers and close friends told me I excelled .  As a kid, I loved to put words together and form rhyming schemes. My mind was crowded with daydreams of being an actor, singer, author.

After some years of sales, marketing, and business ownership, I began writing a blog: 350+posts, flash fiction, and short stories.  I also wrote 20 books in many genres (most were books in the Mystery, Suspense, Romance – generally, fictional narratives inspired by real crimes that would receive 5-Star Amazon Reviews…

The ‘monkey on my back’ would turn out to be an inept sales and marketing system, or, lack thereof, relying, as it were, on the social media and book support groups. I was a one-man publishing company who put most of his time into writing, doing his own editing without the professional input from pros, falling far short in the fields where I had made my living for so many years…marketing.

Still, when I released each book there was not the huge launching splash, lined-up book reviewers, the costly (and, needed!) help from the pros. I loved writing and it would become my wont to go from a finished book directly into the next project.

I suppose it was an unbridled RUSH to leave a legacy of   sorts because much of my adult life had been spent in the ‘neon playgrounds’ searching for love in attempts to negate my negative Appalachian roots of poverty, abuse, emotional chaos, and always a sense of longing for the missing links of love and picket fence happiness.

After a US Naval tour of duty and graduation from a small Pennsylvania college, leaving out some drudgery, I headed West to California and found gold – okay, by and large, fool’s gold. The neon glitter got to me, a country yokel blessed with fair looks, a soft, smooth southern charm, an easy prey to lovely women and the ugly taste of alcohol.

It was a great spread of time when I somehow became a partially noticed actor – did many TV commercials, stage play, and film projects. There were some very good times, and, of course, that other kind…

I would finally end up in Phoenix, Arizona, would try marriage a few times and was blessed with beautiful children, built a big house on a hill close to Tombstone (that town in Southeast Arizona ‘too tough to die’) and my serious writing began.  

‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ – Books 1-6, was my first writing project, building my main character mostly around myself, parts true, parts untrue. Bailey Crane tells his own ‘mystery stories’, most of which are taken from true crimes, the narratives invented by me. Of course, Bailey Crane is one of my favorite novel characters because I get to weave in some of my own life experiences through him. He is a crime fighter who is serious and tedious in his detective work and his personal life experiences (guess you could call him my personal Psychiatrist because he and his ‘alter ego buddy’ do a good job in defining me.

The first book in the ‘Bailey Crane Series’ has the title, “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery #1” and this book has a personal side for me. The young actress brutally murdered in this ‘true crime’ fiction was a friend of mine and shared living quarters with my wife before our marriage. The crime is still a ‘cold case’ for the Phoenix Police Department. Anyone who might read this book and has information about this case, PLEASE contact the Phoenix PD Cold Case Division.

The other books in the Bailey Crane Series are also taken from actual crimes… Each book stands alone. Anyone interested in this series can find them, along with my other books from many genres, on Amazon.com and/or my personal Website – https://www.brchitwood.com .

I have written twenty books in the Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Romance, Science Fiction, Memoir genres. All my books, with synopses, are listed on my Website.

With the books I’ve written, there have been no set and professional marketing agenda – my ‘Bad’, I suppose, but I wanted to work through all the processes, a true ‘do it yourself’ approach…through the drafts, the editing, the book covers, et al. My college degree major was English and I have taught ‘Advanced Writing’ classes.

So, I am comfortable in my efforts, and I know that, of those twenty books I have written, there are some real winners… Read this thriller…  “Mama’s Madness” – Read this one… “Stranger Abduction” – Or, read “Dominique” – or, “Phoenix Fire” – or. “Daddy, No!” – or, “Hammer’s Holy Grail” – or, “The Cracked Mirror…” Aw, read them all!

Don’t know if I accomplished anything with this post except a few tears shed…just trying to sell some books I believe to be worthy of reading.

Enough, already! Onward and upward!

BR Chitwood – October 30, 2020

https://www.brchitwood.com

Too Many Gauges

Too Many Gauges

-A Dialogue, PLUS-

 

JH: “Interesting ‘Title’, Billy Ray. Why  do you use that title?”

 

BRC: “Why ‘not’ that title’, John?”

 

JH: “Well, I don’t really know. Maybe it’s nothing, but ‘gauges’ usually refer to automobiles, furnaces, machinery of some sort. Titles of topics should signify interest before the reading starts, don’t you think?”

 

BRC: “Yes, of course, but why would not someone think just looking at the title that it could be probably interesting?”

 

JH: “I said it was an interesting title. I’m just asking, ‘why’ the title?”

 

BRC: “Sure, but you’ve already shown that the title interested you. So, what you’re really asking me is to tell you the ‘dialogue’ so you don’t have to read it, correct?”

JH: “Geez Whiz, Billy Ray, I just asked, why do you use that title, and you’re acting like I broke a commandment or some sacred oath. I mean, it’s a ‘given’ I’m going to read ‘Too Many Gauges’. I’m just asking, ‘why do you use that title’?”

 

BRC: “Okay, okay. What does the word, gauges, mean to you?”

 

JH: “Gauges measure things, like a car’s gas gauge tells you if you’re about out of gas. A thermometer tells you how high your fever is…”

 

BRC: “Right, and you know I would not write something simple like that, and you want to draw me into a long chat about what ‘gauges’ means in this piece I’ve just written, and, you know my ‘gauges’ will be more of a philosophical bent than simple gas gauges and how sick someone might be. You would likely shift into a ‘funny mode’ and want to know if I would be writing about an anal or oral thermometer. It would turn out that my article would become yours. Then, I would have to hide from you and re-write a whole different article. You’re so easy to see through, John.”

 

JH: “Well, would you?”

 

BRC: “Would I, what?”

 

JH: “Would you be writing about an anal and/or oral thermometer?”

 

BRC: “John, you know I love you, but you’re beyond any possible hope…”

 

JH:“Ah, c’mon, buddy, lighten up. I’m going to read your dialogue thingy. Just give me a fast synopsis of your use of gauges in your article. Just, whet my appetite for more, okay?”

 

BRC: “Okay (sigh), I’m in bed, can’t sleep, a toss and turn night, emptying my bad kidneys every hour, and, okay, feeling sorry for myself, thinking about my life and times…why so much romancing and vagabonding instead of becoming POTUS (Yuck! Does anyone really want that job?), the greatest writer in the world, an ‘Oscar-winning’ actor, and/or, just an ordinary ‘picket fence’ guy with family and love…

 

“Yeah, I even thought about you, also like me, playing the ‘Corp Games’, about all your ’Willet Bourbon Intake’, your checking in and out of the ‘dry-out clinics’, your DUI tickets, the shame you carried after spending that time in the ‘slammer’…yeah, you had a tough go of it, John. My heart bled for you – that is, until you took one of my women, after all the lies you told about me. Funny how you’ve stayed together all these years with one of my favorite ladies and the dogs you stole out of the kennel…that really hurt, John…you knew I wanted my favorite lady and those dogs.

 

“Okay, open the fist, John. You know I’m just roasting you because you are a better writer than I, have a better blog than I, prevaricate so much more convincingly than I can (just, kidding). You, John, are  a standard bearer for all would-be ‘gentle-men’, and I love you, Man.

 

“Those were the gauges misread by me, John, those attributed here in this post, the missed opportunities, the chances at ‘greatness’ that I had and never took advantage of – those are the ‘mis-read’, or, ‘did not read’, gauges.

 

“There is some solace in the recounting. While too busy passing up my many opportunities, my life is complete now, with Julie Anne, Lady Gray, and our wonderful children and grandkids. When all is finally written I’ve had a rather fascinating life…

 

“With years left to come…”

 

JH: “You finished?”

 

BRC: “Yep, all done…”

 

JH: “Good. You will hear from my attorney tomorrow.”

 

BRC: “The gorgeous blonde? Or, the wrinkled-faced Methuselah?”

JH: “You giving odds?”

 

BR Chitwood – Feb. 11, 2020

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Family Love

17904346_10212604998622427_8835160309080360115_n (1)   e15241296_10210589180546815_7619236045342556019_n (1)                               Billy Ray and Julie Anne

Family Love

Upon the laptops across the globe, authors take to their keyboards to peck out their stories, opening their hearts and their very souls to seek some arcane knowledge of their own existence. It is a two-way street, I believe, this writing business. Authors surely wish to entertain their readers. Authors are also writing in many ways to find themselves in their narratives. At least, this one is…

Take me, for example, I put my life under many of the microscopes of readers almost daily in search for the essence of the man behind his words. On the surface of those words I believe it easy to discover some superficial nomenclature to describe myself – a man who ate some emotional soup in childhood and has spent a lifetime in search of himself, that essence, the reality of his soul. Of course, I can immediately acknowledge in all my lucid candor that the simple ‘nomenclature’ I’ve discovered at best can only scratch the surface of who I am, what and where I’ve been. The ultimate truth lies out there in the void of the ‘dark veil’!

What I can be certain of is what I label, ‘my orbital truth’. It is a truth I’ve dodged most of my life as a wanderlust, what many would call a ‘romantic’ or a ‘lotus-eater’, a man hungry for the fruits that can be found in the nether world of women and song, in and out of love, playing the role of dismayed man sorry for himself, or the role of a poet and soothsayer – ‘hey, look at me, am I not a good and solid actor in this not-so-great B-level  Movie’?

My children, two of whom I present to you above, love me for some obscure reason for I was absent for days, weeks, months, and years of their lives – sitting likely in a motel room writing about them on cheap stationery, how I missed them, how much I loved them, only to es-cape the motel room for more women and song. They are wise enough to know all of this and most of them are now closely-knit families with lovely children of their own.

My daughter, Shelley Jean (top picture), her handsome husband, Greg, are shown above, below them, my son, Scott and his lovely wife, Carla. Another son, Brandon, is a PhD in Literature, a professor living in Minnesota, unmarried at last report. There is a school teacher daughter and two engineers in the mix – Chemical and Electronic. All have wonderful children of their own… As a sad footnote: One of my sons, Steven Ray, was lost to us because of his life on the dark menacing streets of Las Vegas in drug dealing and use. If one might presume I could have made a difference in his life had I been there more, you would be presuming correctly… I carry that ignoble deed to the black void mentioned earlier.

With this righteous candor, I can say in honesty that all of the other children now have families and a good life. Shelley and Greg rejoice in their God and their blended family. Scott and Carla, having lived productive business lives, spend most their time in a Utah mountain retreat. The engineers and teacher whom I love come to me via Julie Anne, my most generous and loving wife of some thirty-five years. They are all family-oriented and have clearer truths for living than their father.

So, why have I shared all of my children, myself and wife with you, my compatriots on the writing circuit and some few reading fans? Surely, you did not need to read this, to hear it, as it were. No, of course not! It is all for me, this long missive of contrition. I’ve made you, the readers, my altar of remorse!

 It seemed necessary for me to share the larger truths of my life. Somehow, with the allocation comes ablution, some semblance of playing straight without falsely presenting myself. I served honorably in the United States Navy, have a loving and cherished wife, and felt the simple need to share the beauty that now pervades my life…the children, their families, their devotion to their own families and their charitable aid to others.

In pondering my life’s rather rascally environments at times I’m reminded of how truly lucky I am to have so very much love in my life.

That’s really comforting here in ‘Twilight’, where I plan to live until age 105 and write many more novels…

Surely hope those novels get read… 

No groveling, please, BR! 😀

Billy Ray Chitwood – September 1, 2018

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