I’m happy to
say I recently completed my twentieth book, titled People Lookin’ Half Dead – A Bogey Man Mystery. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d have twenty
books to pick from, although I know a number of authors who offer more than
that. The book is now available in both ebook and paperback format, but enough
about the number of books.
I moved from
Arizona to Washington State in 2015. Not long before I moved, during packing, I
hightailed it to a fast food restaurant for a takeout dinner. I sure didn’t
feel like cooking, and I’d already packed all my pots and pans anyway.
I was waiting
for my food when a homeless man walked in. He was tall and extremely thin with
long hair. His skin was ashen, and so was his hair. He looked grey from head to
toe. Obviously he hadn’t bathed in a very long time. He slowly walked to the
counter and asked for a glass of water. He was soft-spoken and polite. The
young lady at the counter handed him a paper cup and pointed toward the water.
He thanked her and filled the cup. Remember, Arizona is hot and dry and water
is as important as food. I’m not going to tell you the rest of the story
because it’s not pertinent to this post, but let me say there was a good
ending. Oh, and I appreciate the fact that the young lady behind the counter
treated him with respect. That said a lot for her character.
Anyway, I’ve
never been able to forget this man. He was on my mind so much that I knew he
needed to be in a book. The title I’ve chosen, People Lookin’ Half Dead,
doesn’t refer to the man’s appearance, but to a heatwave in Los Angeles.
“It’s one of the hottest summers in memory and Chris and
Pamela Cross are gearing up to open their new supper club, Gin Mill Grill.
Tillie Babcock, Chris’s grandmother, has moved to town and
she’s ready to take over – everything. She loves a good cause and wants nothing
more than to help a few homeless people come in out of the heat and gain a
second chance in life. Unfortunately, a few of these people are disappearing
right out from under her nose.
At Tillie’s insistence, Chris and Pamela now have a cause,
or case, of their own -- to find the missing people before it’s too late.”
I could write about the plight of
the homeless here, but unless you never watch the news or read a newspaper, you
know it’s a worldwide issue, and I’m not here to preach about it.
I generally try to include at least
a little humor in my books, and this one is no exception. How did I insert
humor in a book about disappearing homeless people? You’ll have to read the
book to find out. I’m one of those people who believes you can find something
humorous in almost any situation. Sometimes it’s the main characters and the
situations they find themselves involved in, and once in a great while a
homeless person might make you smile, if only for a second. No, there’s nothing
funny about being homeless, but even they sometimes have a sense of humor. (My
daughter told me the funniest sign she ever saw a homeless man holding up said,
“Bet you can’t hit me with a quarter.”)
So thank you to the homeless man who
wouldn’t let me forget him. I hope that at some point he had a second chance at
life.
On the other side of the coin, there
was once a homeless man who started attending a writers group I belonged to in Nevada.
One morning I was the first one in the parking lot. An old van pulled in next
to me and it was the homeless man who started telling me about a story he was
working on. The story involved killing other homeless people and he went into
great detail about the killings. I found myself slowly taking steps so I wasn’t
hidden by the van.
Another car pulled into the lot and
I took a deep breath and thanked him for sharing his story with me. He laughed,
got into his van and drove away. He never attended the group again, but as a writer
I couldn’t help wondering if there were homeless people buried nearby.
There are two sides to every story,
but the man from the writers group didn’t make it into my book. Or did he?
Until next time, I hope you have a
good week and that your life is filled with blessings.
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