BTK

The BTK killer

I watched “I Survived the BTK killer” last night on TV, and was left with a sour stomach, broken heart and unable to sleep. This revelation is coming from a murder mystery writer who has been accused (more than once) of being a “sick puppy’ concerning my books “Evil in the Mirror” and “Day Stalker.”

The program didn’t center on Dennis Rader, known as the BTK killer. Instead it focused on three people who lost loved ones to Rader’s horrible sexual fantasy murders. These three people tell a story much sadder than the slain victims because they live the horror of these murders each and every day of their lives, as do the rest of the families involved who were not spotlighted on the program.

The old saying “You can’t make this stuff up” rings true when you study the real deal in murder and mayhem. Researching murder is not fun in the first place, but it becomes particularly nerve-racking when you run across someone like Dennis Rader. I am not going to go into detail about this horrible excuse for a human being. Click the title of this blog if for some obscure reason you have never heard of him.

The reason I watched this program in the first place is because I am ready to continue writing my third murder mystery called “The Phoenix Code.” I already have the story board completed and have finished eleven chapters, but I needed a break from writing. I wanted a fresh approach to the task at hand. I have no intention of changing my style, “sick is as sick does.” I just wanted to see through fresh eyes the horror of murder. Brother, BTK fills the bill.

The sour stomach comes from the knowledge that Dennis Rader was not executed but is spending the rest of his life in prison. Although I am (in principle) against capital punishment, the idea of this monster living leaves me sickened. The prosecution made a deal so they could learn the scope of his killings and close the chapter on this guy. To me, and the families involved, this is little consolation given the absolute horror and pain his victims went through.

One man who lost his mother, father, brother and sister to this monster stated at the trial, face to face with Dennis Rader, in a clear and steady voice, “You did not manage to wipeout our my family because I survived what you did to my loved ones. I win because you are never going to see the light of day again.” The reality was that during the program this brave and courageous young man wanted revenge in the worst way. He wanted his time alone in a room with Dennis Rader. Believe me if you had seen this man on the program, you would know that Rader would be a dead man.

There is no question that the BTK killer probably will not survive incarceration. Just like Jeffery Dahmer and others before him, he will die in prison, but not from natural causes. I believe this a fitting end to Dennis Rader. This, and only this, will close the last chapter of one of the most chilling real life murder mysteries on record.

My broken heart is not just for the victims and families of these murders, but also for the wife and children of Dennis Rader. He managed to live an exemplary life in his community, hiding in plain sight, as it were. I can’t even comprehend how his wife and children must feel. She was sleeping with a monster that surely now makes her skin crawl. His children are stained for life and have a long, hard road to hoe. It won’t be easy for them, but with the grace of God, they too will survive the BTK killer.

Write on,

Mittster

They Said It Couldn’t Be Done

You may ask who “they” are. They are all the people who think life is a gambit to be run at full speed and no matter who gets in the way you run them down like rabid dogs so you can be first to the finish line. In other words, he or she who finishes first with the most stuff wins the game of life. First of all life is not a game, nor is it a finish “first or suck” scenario.

I had a shop teacher in junior high school who said my identical twin brother and I wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. He also said in a condescending, derogatory way, “It takes all kinds to make a world!” I doubt you are still alive, Mr. Adams, but you sucked as a teacher and human being. Perhaps I will luck out and you are still alive and reading this blog. That would give me great pleasure. In a way you were right though; it does take all kinds of people to make a world. Thank God, because if we were all like you, the world would be a miserable place to live!

I don’t know about teachers in the classrooms now-a-days, but when I was going to school (right after the wagon-train era) teachers expected everyone to be a certain way in looks and behavior. We (my brother and I) were not made from the same mold as most teachers would expect. The teachers treated us differently than the rest of the class. We were considered so different that our classification bordered on idiot status.

We both managed to graduate high school and followed in our father’s footsteps to the construction industry. It was a good thing actually. PhDs were pumping gas in the early ‘60s while we were making so much money we couldn’t spend it all. While we both had successful careers in construction, our real success was learning that life is a learning experience and it should teach us to love all creation and that includes our fellowman. The greatest lesson is that “we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

With that being said, I forgive you, Mr. Adams. After all, you were a product of your times just as I am in my time. I am thankful for my life and the diversity in people I interact with daily. Some I laugh with, others I laugh at, but always with respect for feelings and sensitivities. “Life is truly a box of chocolates; you just never know what you are going to find in the wrapper.”

I’m just saying,

Mittster

The 800-Pound Gorilla

The wonderful thing about having a blog that most people don't read is that I get to say almost anything I want. I could say some things that would force Google to boot my booty off-line, but that would be counterproductive.

This blog makes me absolutely no money, so I can't lose what I don't have. I thought about ringing the perimeter of this blog with advertising like the Big Gorilla Blogs, but I hate it every time I accidentally click on one and end up in a mystic ad land that refuses to let my back or shut down icons work. I end up pushing my finger hard and deep into the computer tower off-button just to escape, and then I have to deal with the re-start-up fiasco.

I do use this blog to promote my books, but the nineteen people who read my blogs have already bought the book, so the promotions mostly look on blind eyes. That's OK, though; I do get an occasional lol, lmao and such.

At least now I can start promoting my new book and give my small following something new to look at. Unfortunately, they will get bored quickly and I will have to try to be funny again to keep their attention. That too is OK. Humor is the only paycheck for unknown, newbie authors. I'm not complaining, laughing far outweighs crying, and I don't waste Kleenex.

So what keeps me going down the lonely, newbie author pathway? I'll tell you something - there is no one answer. Passion for writing is the main thing, but ego is another. Most will not admit to the latter. I freely do, because it's my blog and no one reads it. I refuse to write two murder mysteries and let them become obscure in the bowles of Amazon. My ego won't allow it. There is also the matter of fame. Yes, I want fame and fortune and I want them now! There, I've said it and I feel much better for it....

There are a few of the nineteen people who read my blogs that wish it would just fade away. You know who you are! Forget it, this blog will be up and running till the day I go to the big blog in the sky. Unlike writing a novel, which takes months and sometimes years to write, blogs are here and now. It's self-gratification to the extreme. It's like Meg Ryan in her famous scene in When Harry Met Sally.

Oh, crap, now my secrets are out. Ego, Fame and Eroticism are great motivators also....

Write on,

Mittster

Bad Habit # 333

I am really trying to not get up at three a.m. anymore. I finished my first two novels, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, and the third one, The Phoenix Code, is on the shelf because I am now working as a consultant for a construction company from Hawaii.

Even though my passion is writing, it was time to refurbish the coffers until I retire yet again and pick up where I left off. My problem is that for two years while writing murder mysteries, I would get up no later than three a.m. and most times earlier. By two p.m. I would be ready to lie down for the day. Well, I can’t do that anymore – The Islands are three hours behind our time. When the team in Hawaii gets geared up for their day, I’m nodding off at my desk!




It’s a good thing I still enjoy working with spreadsheets and calculations or this gig could be the straw that broke the old camel’s back. The truth be known, working for this company is very exciting and I look forward to each day. I did mention to my wife that this will be my last hurrah, and then I will retire from construction for real. That comment was bull poop and I knew it…I will quit after they lay my worn-out carcass to rest.




I am grateful this opportunity came my way while we are suffering from the deepest worldwide recession I have ever seen, to say nothing of the natural disasters that have been plaguing the world right and left. Sometimes it is good to step back and be thankful for what we have, instead of worrying about what we think we should have. I am blessed with a fantastic family, a roof over our heads and food to eat. The rest is just icing on the cake.




In the meanwhile, I was again out of bed at exactly three a.m. with my wife’s parting word ringing in my head, “Idiot!”

She’s just saying,

Mittster

Well, Tweet My Twitter!

As the title implies, I love talking dirty to myself. In reality though, I thought I would write a few comments about Twitter and how it has impacted my Web Life. Yes, I said, Web Life. You know, the place everyone reading this blog lives to the chagrin of everyone else who lives in boring reality.

As suggested by my publisher, my book promotions are centered around three Websites: Twitter, Facebook and a Website dedicated to my books. Facebook is certainly the most fun, whereas the Website is just a showcase. Twitter is mostly serious, which took some getting used to. Nothing much funny going on there - just people trying to be noticed by somebody who is somebody. In Twitterland, the nobodies prevail, but occasionally somebody will surface who has thousands and thousands of followers. I am trying to be one of those people.

I Tweet my Blog on Twitter everyday (there I go getting dirty again. Sorry!), and I have about 600 or so followers - mostly writers, publishers and an assortment of weirdos like myself. The trick is to get people interested in what you have to offer. I obviously haven't learned the trick yet, but if I am one thing, it's persistent! In theory, the harder you try at something, the better chance you have of succeeding. The reality may be different, but I keep moving forward no matter the weight on my shoulders.




Also, in theory, Twitter can connect you with the elite and powerful. My problem is that I wouldn't know what to say if or when I did meet them. Well, that's not quite accurate; I did have a short connection with Anne Rice, but she didn't offer to introduce me to her publisher. Perhaps she tired of my platitudes and idol worship. After all, she is my favorite author.

After the holidays are over, I plan to have a video made and submit it to YouTube featuring my books Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. I look at it this way - why not make my Web experience even more exciting by having four places to live!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Author 101

I think most of us, at one time or another; have thought how great it would be to write a novel. I also think we have all tried our hand at writing poetry. What most of us haven’t done is get serious about writing.

Author Eri Nelson recently commented on Facebook that, “In my moments of shaken endeavors, I will rejoice in success of my resolve to try.” This statement exemplifies what being an author is really about. If you write because you are compelled to do so and you rejoice in the effort, that is enough compensation, because, usually, that will be all the compensation you ever get.

Do not write because you think you are going to be rich and famous. That concept is an illusion, and with some a delusion that can become an obsession causing metal problems. Write because at that moment in time you feel free, alive and excited about writing the next chapter and the next. Becoming one with your story is living the book as you write it. Even to the point when you know that the story must end, you want to continue. It is at this point you write the sequel.

For those of you who have always wanted to write, but were afraid of failure and/or ridicule, I say follow your passion and dreams. Find time in your busy life to start one sentence and keep going until you have a paragraph. The next thing you know is that you have written your first chapter. From that point forward you will be hooked and nothing will get in your way of becoming an author; not even yourself. Which, by the way, is the only real thing blocking your success.

I remember starting my first murder mystery with fear and much anxiety. What if this and what if that? Oh, my, how do I write the first sex scene? How do I describe the first murder? How do I make it believable? When the time came to describe these topics, I was surprised to discover that every movie, TV show and written article I had ever seen came to mind, and I was able to write every juicy detail with vigor and take the reader to places they really didn’t want to go.

“Mitt, you are one sick puppy,” was what I heard from many readers who were unable to stop reading until the book was finished. I may be a sick puppy, but the readers reveled in my sickness. Like my wonderful wife explained to her elderly mother after she called while reading Evil in the Mirror; “Mom, it’s called imagination. I am perfectly safe with my author husband!”

Thank you, Mum, for being concerned about your daughter’s safety. You are my best critic.

Write on,

Mittster

Well, Tweet My Twitter

As the title implies, I love talking dirty to myself. In reality though, I thought I would write a few comments about Twitter and how it has impacted my Web Life. Yes, I said, Web Life. You know, the place everyone reading this blog lives to the chagrin of everyone else who lives in boring reality.

As suggested by my publisher, my book promotions are centered around three Websites: Twitter, Facebook, and a Website dedicated to my books. Facebook is certainly the most fun, whereas the Website is just a showcase. Twitter is mostly serious, which took some getting used to. Nothing much funny going on there - just people trying to be noticed by somebody who is somebody. In Twitterland, the nobodies prevail, but occasionally somebody will surface who has thousands and thousands of followers. I am trying to be one of those people.

I Tweet my Blog on Twitter everyday (there I go getting dirty again. Sorry!), and I have about 300 or so followers - mostly writers, publishers and an assortment of weirdos like myself. The trick is to get people interested in what you have to offer. I obviously haven't learned the trick yet, but if I am one thing, it's persistent! In theory, the harder you try at something, the better chance you have of succeeding. The reality may be different, but I keep moving forward no matter the weight on my shoulders.

Also, in theory, Twitter can connect you with the elite and powerful. My problem is that I wouldn't know what to say if or when I did meet them. Well, that's not quite accurate; I did have a short connection with Anne Rice, but she didn't offer to introduce me to her publisher. Perhaps she tired of my platitudes and idol worship. After all, she is my favorite author.

After the summer is over, I plan to have a video made and submit it to YouTube featuring my book Evil in the Mirror. I look at it this way - why not make my Web experience even more exciting by having four places to live!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Frankly, I Don't Give a Damn!

Frankly, traditional publishers, I don't give a damn! If I die not selling another book, you can rest assured that using a POD (Print On Demand) publisher is light years ahead of trying to get a pompous, élite, self-serving, holier than thou, snobbish, dinosaur ass, traditional publisher to even open your manuscript envelope, let alone read it. I have heard that they have huge trash cans for unopened manuscript envelopes and use them to stay warm in the winter, which is impossible considering they are reptilian.

I have lost count of the horror stories concerning newbie writers being treated like subhumans at the hands of traditional publishers. Worse yet, if you were one of the very fortunate writers able to get signed by one of these publishing houses, your status went from subhuman to slave. Forget keeping the content of your novel. It will be tweaked into oblivion. Not to worry though; the odds of getting published are worse than winning the lottery!

Did I send my manuscript to some traditional publishers? Yes. But, after wasting about fifty bucks on postage, I decided it would be cheaper in the long run to hire a POD publisher. After much research and a little luck, I found the perfect publisher, Wheatmark, Inc.

Here is the gist of an e-mail I received today from Wheatmark:

“We received your Proof Approval Form and have released your files to the printer. You will receive your Author Sample Copies in about a week from today.”

In other words, my sequel murder mystery, Day Stalker, has gone to press!

That’s what I’m talking about…. While some newbie authors are waiting for word on manuscripts that will never come, I just had my second novel published. I am already working on the third novel, The Phoenix Code, anticipating finishing the trilogy next May.

What are you waiting for? Get your book started; a great adventure waits!

Write on,

Mittster

Critique This!

I must admit that having my work critiqued by strangers pisses me off most of the time. “What do you mean my book’s timeline is not clear? It’s clear to me, butt breath!” Oh, crap, there I go again taking critiques personally.

My first critique ever was from a schoolmarm that lives in California. She said my writing was at the ninth grade level, but that it would target a great range of readers around the world. Another good thing about writing at that level is that it keeps the PhD’s critiquing. After all, if it were not for writers like me, they would be mummified in their library chairs, with a glass of expensive scotch wasted, cigar cold and lifeless and an old phonograph needle skipping like a rock on a pond, repeating the same scratchy opera musical phrase over and over.

Don’t get me wrong, a person with PhD worked hard to reach that level. I just wish they would have some appreciation for those of us who have PhD’s in the school of hard knocks. We worked hard too, but with no recognition.

Does it piss off the PhDers’ to know that I don’t like Dr. Phil? Probably not, but that’s no sweat off my gonies!

Mittster

The Road Less Traveled

Formal education will make you a living; self-education will make you a fortune. – Jim Rohn.

Right and I am a self-made millionaire – wrong! I like the sound of Mr. Rohn’s statement though because it gives validity to me wasting my high school years on party, pleasure and hot rods instead of buckling down and learning something of value. I am sure there are some self-made gazillionaires out there who don’t even have a high school education, but they are far and few between like lottery winners. As my mother-in-law says about me playing the lotto, “How’s that working out for you?” Sometimes she really pisses me off! Unfortunately, she is right as rain and it isn’t working out worth a poop.

When my mother reached thirty she said the hell with working as a construction secretary for our stepfather for the rest of her life. At the time she didn’t even have a high school education, but that was about to change. She went on after getting her GED to receive a Bachelor of Science degree and then a Master’s in music education and ended up teaching in the same junior high school she had graduated from years before.

I was so proud of her, but I was making a ton of money in construction and just knew I would be a successful contractor someday. What I didn’t know was that being successful also meant being responsible for my actions. I worked hard and drank hard. When I wasn’t working I was spending all my money on partying and not worrying about tomorrow, let alone next week. This was not the formula to the success I envisioned.

It wasn’t until I reached forty that I started realizing that had I put the money wasted on booze into an interest bearing account I could have retired to Hawaii. Instead, I just helped make bar owners wealthy and me poor. It was at this time I also said the hell with working my butt off swinging a hammer and started to learn the things that could and would make me a project manager and get me out of the field and into more money using my brain and not my back.

Over twenty years later I have managed some success. I became a project manager, consultant and published author, but not without great effort and many disappointments. One thing stands out more than any other. The whole process would have been so much easier had I learned study habits way back in high school. Our minds are so much more receptive to leaning when the brain cells are young and not permeated with beer and tobacco.

Success is not equated to money only. Success is being able to take responsibility for your own life and look in the mirror when you want to blame others for failure. Success means surrounding yourself with capable men and women who want to be there because of mutual respect and admiration. Success means giving credit to co-workers knowing that the praise will come back full circle. Success also means caring about others, especially your loved ones and family.

No, I’m not a millionaire, but I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. I have the perfect life and life’s partner. I am blessed each and every day with all my needs and desires fulfilled. Would I do it all over again knowing what I know now? No, I probably would just screw up at a different level. What I would do though is get that formal education that is available to every American. Sometimes the road less traveled can be the easiest one.

Write on,

Mittster

To Kill Or Not To Kill

I see the death of little Caylee Anthony is back in the news and the trial of her mother for first degree murder has started. That also means that if convicted, Caylee’s mother, Casey, could, and probably will, face the death sentence. The trial is in Florida, where a death sentence means exactly that, a death sentence. Now is when the nation, and in fact, the whole world will start lining up in two camps. The capital punishment advocates vs. the no capital punishment group.

From my perspective it is the angel against the devil sitting on my shoulders whispering in my ears. The devil says convincingly,
“Execute the horrible monster who, after killing her daughter, stuffed the little darling into the trunk of the car to rot while Mom went dancing and partying.” “Hold on, devil,” the angel replies, “Only God has the right to take human life. Vengeance is mine and mine alone. Besides, how many innocent people have been executed by the hangman throughout history? Maybe, just maybe, Casey is telling the truth. Only God can decide her innocence or guilt on judgment day. Remember the commandment, Thou shalt not kill.” “Oh, I remember it,” replies the devil, "God is killing off thousands of children every year due to starvation and abuse. What kind of God do you worship anyway?”

The argument on my shoulders goes on and on until my head feels like it is going to explode. Finally, I intervene – “Be gone, both of you!” I knock the devil and angel off my shoulders, bag them both, put the bag in the trunk of my car, and then go down to the local pub for a cold one. I don’t mean to make light of the seriousness of the crime. The whole thing makes me sick inside. Sometimes humor, even sick humor, is the only way I can clear the cobwebs of indecision out of my brain.

There is one thing that makes the whole execution vs. life in prison without parole dilemma easier for me to deal with. Mankind has not figured it out for hundreds of years. For me to figure it out seems less important and in fact senseless. We are dealing with the law of the land, and the law in Florida land is clear. If you commit capital murder, you will be executed by lethal injection. Lethal injection, now there is a subject – oh, never mind, I will save it for a later blog. Lucky, lucky you….

Write on,

Mittster

Crazy is as Crazy Does

Remember the old country song where Waylon sings, “You have to be crazy to keep from going insane?” Well, brother, truer words were never spoken in today’s world. Among politics, religion, environmental issues, hate, death and taxes, people on this planet have a tough road to hoe, and when you add in the Mayan end of the world calendar in 2012, it gets really dicey.

I, for one, don’t give a damn about predictions in general. They have all been wrong or I wouldn’t be here writing this blog. The Mayan calendar thing is a little disconcerting though. The five thousand year cycle could mean the earth’s magnetic poles might switch places and life on this planet could have a really bad day. It has happened in the past and certainly could happen again.

Even this possibility really doesn’t concern me as much as Donald Trump running for president, especially after he said he wasn’t going to run. Could you picture him and Sarah Palin running on the same ticket? Stranger things have happened and continue to do so daily. I doubt The Donald could stand a real close look at his personal life though, but then who could? Just ask Arnold – it’s a good thing he wasn’t born in this country or he would have been running until a couple of days ago. I still don’t believe that the Schwarzenegger family couldn’t spot one of Arnie’s spawn a mile away. The accent thing should have given the little rug-rat away.

I think the craziest thing I have heard recently is that the U.S. had been holding Osama bin Laden prisoner for almost two years at the villa in Pakistan until the time was ripe to kill the bastard and let President Obama take the credit. What better way to get re-elected when the economy is tanked, along with most Americans. Sounds good, but politicians are not smart enough to pull that one off; only the CIA could do that…hhhmmm….

There is one bright spot in all this dark gloom. I was at my fiftieth high school reunion last Friday night and we had invocation and then stood and recited the pledge of allegiance. We even used the words “In God We Trust.” It had been a long time since I uttered those words and it felt very good. Perhaps I should stop worrying about the things I have no control over and start trusting in God more. Stop and think about it. Who else is there to trust?

I’m just saying,

Mittster

The Proof is in the Pudding

My author friend Eri Nelson once told me that she must strive for perfection in her writing. My reply to her was simple. “Strive for perfection and I guarantee you will turn into a blubbering idiot before you become a senior!” At one time, I too thought perfection should be the goal of any novel writer worth their salt. As it turned out, both of us were dead wrong.

I will always remember when I received my author copies of my first murder mystery novel, Evil in the Mirror. I was excited beyond belief and couldn’t wait to give copies to my family and close friends. After receiving glowing reviews and feeling on top of the world, I received a great review from a friend that also included the revelation that I had an obvious mistake in the book. One of my murdered detectives showed up again in a later chapter. I had inadvertently given the lead detective the wrong name. I called my publisher yelling, “Oh, my God, hold the presses, stop everything; there is a mistake!” I was mortified to say the least, and my Wheatmark representative Kat Gautreaux was mildly amused at the obvious tailspin I was in.

Kat softly said, “Mittster, nothing is perfect in the universe and we live in an imperfect world. Our goal as human beings should be excellence, not perfection. Not to worry, later down the road when we insert reviews, we will take care of the oversight.” With that being said, I reluctantly hung up the phone and headed for my wife in the next room for aid and comfort. My writer’s ego had taken a direct cannonball hit and was shattered beyond repair.

As I worked hard to complete my second novel, Day Stalker, my wife would interrupt me every time she found a mistake in a book she was reading. Being an avid reader of murder mysteries by bestselling authors, my wife interrupted me often and I was amazed at all the mistakes being made by known authors. After a few months of interruptions, I finally got it – we all make mistakes, including people who proof books for a living! I was able to finish my second novel without fear of failure; after all, it’s the storyline that really counts. Write an excellent book and people will read it regardless of typos and clerical errors. Write a stinker and no one will see any errors because they will have already slated the book for a yard sale without reading it.

The moral of this story is that we write because we are compelled to do so. We make mistakes because we are human.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

So You Want To Be An Author

So what is keeping you from joining the ranks of millions of other unknown, broke and downtrodden author wannabes? All it takes is money to get your novel published in today’s book world. There are many print-on-demand or POD publishers out there just waiting for you to happen by, said the spider to the fly.

I know much has been said about the thrill of seeing your book in print and for sale on Amazon.com, and there is some truth in that visual treat. The only downside is that unless you are independently wealthy, you will surely slink back to your day job to keep beans on the table and wonder if the effort was worth it.

My murder mysteries, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker are indeed on Amazon and my name is plastered all over many pages on Google, but book sales are dismal no matter how hard I try to promote them. Could this mean the books are garbage? It could, but they are not; just check out the reviews! Something else is the cause of stale book sales.

The world economy certainly plays a large part. It’s hard to sell anything right now, let alone new books at retail when people can go to used book stores or better yet, a library and get books for free. I don’t blame anyone for doing that; readaholics need their fix and when money is scarce, libraries are the place to go.

Another possibility is that traditional publishers have become so elite that sending a manuscript to them is an exercise in futility and a waste of postage. How the big publishers stay so snobbish is a mystery to me (no pun intended). I think there is a method to their madness though. If you publish only known, bestselling authors, you don’t waste profits on promoting someone unknown that may or may not sell many books.

On a positive note, I am not going to throw in the towel. Maybe I can outlive the publishing snobs and snobettes and still become a bestselling author. In the meanwhile, I think I will fire up the Harley and go for a ride. When I get back, things will look much better and I will be able to continue writing my new murder mystery called The Phoenix Code. After all, writing is my passion while money is just a means to an end. I think the term “starving author” has some dignity to it. No one likes an obese bestselling author!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Killer Books

I present Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker to you with pride and amazement. The amazement part is because they are my first novels written after a full career in an unrelated field. Sometimes humorous, but most times not, my novels are honest pathways into the minds of serial killers, rapists and perverts. Surely, I must be all those things to be able to write the murder mysteries that gush out of my brain. After all, most say, “You are one sick puppy, Mittster.” To those people who say it and/or think it because they are too polite to say it, I say, “Thank you very much – that’s the nicest thing that has been said to me this year.”

I tire of trying to explain that my books are fiction, it’s simply imagination, and don’t shoot the messenger. Murder mystery readers are, for the most part, sick puppies in their own right. It’s nice to know I am not alone. I too like a good “who done it”; after all, reading is how I became a writer in the first place. I just wanted to write something different that was also a page turner and thought provoking. If the reviews are any indication, I have done just that. I say these things about myself mainly because if I don’t, no one else will. Tooting your own horn works well in the author business because ego is part of the engine that drives the writing machine.

We writers are constantly trying to gain approval from our reading public. To my fellow sickoids who have read my books and responded with knee-jerk reactions, whether good or bad – I thank you. I also thank the folks who read my blogs and seem to want more. Perhaps someday I will rise to the status of “Best Seller,” but in the meantime, if you have any friends in the mental health field, you might ask them to read my books. I am sure they will gain physiological insight and wonder why in the hell I am not on death row in San Quentin Prison. Sometimes, I wonder the same thing....

Write on,

Mittster

Can’t Kick the Habit

I am really trying to not get up at three a.m. anymore. I finished my first two novels, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, and the third one, The Phoenix Code, is on the shelf because I am now working as a consultant for a construction company from Hawaii.

Even though my passion is writing, it was time to refurbish the coffers until I retire yet again and pick up where I left off. My problem is that for two years while writing murder mysteries, I would get up no later than three a.m. and most times earlier. By two p.m. I would be ready to lie down for the day. Well, I can’t do that anymore – The Islands is three hours behind our time. When the team in Hawaii gets geared up for their day, I’m nodding off at my desk!

It’s a good thing I still enjoy working with spreadsheets and calculations or this gig could be the straw that broke the old camel’s back. The truth be known, working for this company is very exciting and I look forward to each day. I did mention to my wife that this will be my last hurrah, and then I will retire from construction for real. That comment was bull poop and I knew it…I will quit after they lay my worn-out carcass to rest.

I am grateful this opportunity came my way while we are suffering from the deepest worldwide recession I have ever seen, to say nothing of the natural disasters that have been plaguing the world right and left. Sometimes it is good to step back and be thankful for what we have, instead of worrying about what we think we should have. I am blessed with a fantastic family, a roof over our heads and food to eat. The rest is just icing on the cake.

In the meanwhile, I was again out of bed at exactly three a.m. with my wife’s parting word ringing in my head, “Idiot!”

She’s just saying,

Mittster

Peanut Butter

No pun intended, but Salmonella in my Skippy’s creamy, low fat, peanut butter? I just stuffed down three peanut butter sandwiches and a quart of milk, for God’s sake. What am I supposed to do now, just sit here and wait for the explosion? I have been eating Skippy’s for as long as I can remember and this crap has never happened before. (Sorry, there I go again with the puns.)

Up until the TV news and e-mail warning, I thought Salmonella was a country in Asia. What a surprise it was to learn the truth, it kind of took the edge off my Sunday afternoon snack time. I can assure you peanut butter is off the menu forever, or at least until the craving overtakes me again.

Hold on, wait a minute…my stomach is starting to rumble. Oh, God, please don’t let me get sick. Now I am getting nauseated, my vision is blurring, and my equilibrium is going fast. I need to lie down and try to ride this out. What is that ringing in my ears? It’s getting louder and louder. Hello, it’s my alarm clock and it says it’s Monday morning and time to get up for work. Holy smoley, what a horrible nightmare – first thing this morning, I am throwing away the four jars of unopened peanut butter sitting on the counter where I left them Sunday morning!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

No Real Republican Front Runner?

I beg the difference with the political poles; Sarah is my front runner hands down! It's about time we had someone sexy and crazy in the white house. Lord knows we have had everyone else from A to Z, and their only claim to fame is that they were all just crazy. It's time for someone with a fabulous mouth to talk with, and an equally fabulous body to persuade with, occupy the White House. Even Ben Laden would surrender to put a lip lock on Sarah Palin. How else could he stop her incessant chattering? Don't answer that!

Let the insanity continue with a twist of sexual persuasiveness added in for good measure. One thing is for sure, middle America will continue to be squeezed out of the process until we become just a faint memory. Let’s hire Sarah and at least have a little fun on the way out….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Miltary Justice

I should stop using the term “Get a rope” when I get upset with others who are just practicing their constitutional right of free speech. There are two sides to every coin, and listening to someone else’s prospective on life is just as important as expounding on mine own.

Of course, there are a few exceptions to the free speech concept. This is where the word civilized comes in to play. Is it OK to speak out against the country that provides you with constitutional rights protecting your free speech, like Jane Fonda did in Vietnam, even though it caused more torture and deaths of American prisoners of war? Her actions were despicable and certainly uncivilized, but she was not prosecuted because of her civil constitutional right of free speech. One consolation is that millions of service men and women hate her guts to this very day. I say, “Get a rope!” Oh, crap, my bad – I promised not to use my right of free speech in this case because it is uncivilized.

What about the WikiLeaks and U.S. Army Private Bradley Manning’s case? Let’s agree to at least one point. Private Bradley Manning swore an oath to perform his duties to his country as per the military code of ethics. I can assure you the ethics do not include leaking information of any kind to the media and especially in time of war. Is Private Manning entitled to free speech as spelled out in the Constitution? I think not. His military oath precludes everything, especially free speech. Loose lips sink ships and get people killed. Now, we must assume Bradley Manning is innocent until proven guilty. He does have that right, even in the Army.

There was no doubt of Jane Fonda’s guilt; after all, she flaunted herself in front of North Vietnamese cameras running her mouth the whole time. We so far have not seen any evidence that would indicate Private Manning is guilty of leaking secrete documents to WikiLeak. That revelation will have to wait for his court martial. In the meantime, the controversy will rage on and most of us will be able to say what we want because we have the right to do so. I know I have the right to say, “Get a rope,” but I will refrain from doing so in the future. I wonder if saying “Get a rope” infers that I am a vigilante of some kind; which, by the way, is certainly illegal in our country. Of course I am not a vigilante, and I do not support capital punishment. Now, that subject is for another blog…. I can feel the debate heating up!

I’m just saying,


Mittster

The Zoo At Our House

You should try to write a book while living in the zoo at our house. As I write, Pickles, the Meyer’s parrot, is screeching because he wants to be with me in the office so he can tear up everything in sight and then poop on it for good measure. He took a shower with me this morning, but no, that’s not good enough. I bought the little terror seven years ago for my wife’s birthday, but he bonded to me. She just had to have a parrot, and now I get to be married to both!

Then there is Mittsy the Pomeranian. We bought Mittsy in Michigan fourteen years ago. She is our oldest and is exhibiting some of the same behavior as my mother-in-law. That’s not to say I don’t love them both. I do, but not being able to control your bladder is OK for a human, but not so OK for a dog who thinks every rug in the house is a potty. She is so adorable and loving; it will be hard to see her leave the planet. Perhaps because she is half blind and losing her hearing, Mittsy can’t tell where the outdoors is anymore. Come to think of it, I have days like that too!

Annie is our long-haired Chihuahua – she is about eight years old and the real nutsoid of the family. We sort of rescued her from the vet because one of his customers couldn’t take care of her anymore. She is our Prozac dog and needs her fix two times a day. Without it, she turns into a nightmare with fangs and claws. None of the other dogs are safe when she goes off, especially Mittsy. She sleeps a lot these days, but is still terrified at the sound of rain, wind or thunder, and when she accidently bites herself. She also likes to sit in a corner and look and growl at what must be ghosts in the house. This doesn’t bother me much; I figure they (the ghosts) are too busy with her to bother with us. That works for me….

We do have a well behaved, short-haired, black and tan Chihuahua named Gonzo (named after the ex-baseball player for the Arizona Diamondbacks). We bought him in Arizona about seven years ago. What a little gentleman he is, tough, but always polite with his human pack. His idea of play is to grab a toy and stay just ahead of me, tail wagging, while I sort of run after him saying, “That’s my toy, Gonzo. It’s mine, it’s mine, and I want it right now.” Of course I never quite catch him and eventually he gets under the kitchen table and chews on his toy while I head back to the office to try and get some work done.

Last, but not least, is our white, short-haired Chihuahua named Taco. We rescued him a couple of years ago from a Prescott Valley, Arizona, rescue center. He was abandoned in the dead of winter by some unknown creep (you know who you are!). How he survived that particularly cold winter is anyone’s guess, but the important thing is that he is living with us and we will provide for him until it’s time for him to leave the planet. Taco is a Deer Chihuahua with extremely long legs, and he can run like the wind. He is our miniature sight hound and there is nothing better than watching him run at a dog park. He takes turns sleeping at night under the covers snuggled up to me or wifey, although I must admit he bonded to Sandy from the very beginning, but when she is not home, I get him all to myself.

Well, there you have it – a writer’s nightmare it would seem. The truth is that I couldn’t write without the zoo in our house. I can’t imagine living without our pets, and in fact, we both require their companionship and love. They force us to stay home much of the time, but in today’s world, that isn’t such a bad idea. I do miss wifey not going on long distance book signings with me, but we both understand the commitment pets require and we lovingly succumb to that commitment.

Write on,

Mittster