It would be another twenty-five years before I discovered that I could actually make money at it. I even illustrated them with dragons and swords and lots of explosions, because why the hell not? The other kids loved them, and suddenly I discovered that I was good at making crap up to entertain people. I started writing little stories in my school notebooks. Feist and David Eddings, whole new worlds opened, and I knew that I wanted to write fantasy. Somebody my mom knew had picked it up at a yard sale. The first real fantasy novel I ever read was Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks. There was just something heroic about those that caught my imagination. I kept one of his index pages and checked off every book as I read it. The first author I loved was Louis L’Amour. Two hours on the school bus everyday gives you plenty of extra reading time. El Nido had a tiny library, and by the time I was about twelve I had read everything there.

My dad considered reading fiction a complete waste of time, since reading time should be devoted to information related to important things, like cows or tractors. It was my mom that installed a love of reading in me. I was that one kid that always had a book in my hands and was usually reading at recess instead of actually doing stuff. So rather than play a lot of sports, I preferred to read books. Ironically, I was also strong as an ox because I had to hoist bales of hay every day, but when you drink a gallon of extra-whole-super-plus-fat milk direct from the tank daily, (all you can drink, and it’s sorta free!) you do tend to chub up. Looking back, I suppose I would describe myself as a geeky, fat kid. (as you will see, these two things will be a theme in my life). There’s not a whole lot of interest in El Nido, so I read a lot of books and I shot a lot of guns. El Nido was a tiny little town, where the cows far outnumbered the people.

I grew up on a dairy farm, where I received my black belt in the ancient art of Portuguese Shovel Fighting, because nothing motivates a Holstein to move its fat ass into the milk barn like a good shovel on the snout. I’ve had this blog for three years now, so I figured I should actually put some information on this page. Merchant of Death (retired). Firearms Instructor.

Insomnia cookies menu kent ohio