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Featured on Sally Cronin’s Grotto! What an honor!!
I now live in the Ozarks. It’s a great house in a great area of Missouri.
In past blogs I wrote on the people here that I am proud and honored to be allowed to call my friends and neighbors.
This blog, though, is about my cabin even further into the mountains.
It is a log cabin set on a hill looking down into a glade which is part of Pine Hollow. On most any morning, as the sun rises, one can watch wildlife wake from their slumber.
Ground squirrels scamper about under foliage and leaf cover looking for a morning meal. Birds start singing, then flying the skies by picking up the winds to glide among the wistful clouds.
Embers in the wood burning stove caused fresh logs to blaze and cooked coffee in an old, blue metal pot. The aroma forces a person to pour some of the black liquid into a matching blue metal cup.
Sitting on the steps, blowing on the coffee as if that would cool the hot beverage, your attention is again drawn down the hill.
One by one, the deer enter the valley to graze. They see me sitting and drinking my coffee but know from my disposition they can continue their eating in safety.
By the time the cup is empty, the bacon in the cast iron skillet is crisp and the grease is ready for the eggs.
The log structure is small and even smaller inside. There is enough room for one, cozy for two. Light comes from two windows during the day and kerosene lamps in the evening. Water is in five gallon containers stacked in the corner.
After breakfast, there is wood to be cut from down wood. Some to be stacked inside the cabin, some outside under a cover, the rest just stacked by the fire pit.
When my son and daughter were small, they carried all the rock to line the bottom and sides of that fire pit. That was thirty years ago and the rocks are still in place.
By the time I finish all the chores, the sun is below the treetops and it’s time for supper, consisting of a steak and veggies.
While eating supper, I listen to “The Radio Reader” on the local PBS station. Every evening during the week a chapter of a book is read over the radio.
The coffee is hot again and there is the sound of a truck pulling up the hill to the door of the cabin. It’s a friend and neighbor. His name is Dan and the coal black hair is grey now. He still walks with a small limp. He lost his leg to a landmine but unless you knew that fact, you’d think he just had a rough day. Dan has never been bitter about the loss of his leg. He always has a smile and a good word.
Over a couple cups of coffee and a few cigarettes we talk about his family and then mine.
The night gets late and under a clear sky the full moon lights the road for Dan to drive home.
After I’m sure Dan is safely down the hill and onto the gravel road headed home, I sit with the last cup of coffee in the pot and make notes on paper and on the neat little voice recorder my wife, Sandy, gave me.
I know that it’s time for bed when the coyotes start yapping, calling to their young.
With the stove full of wood and coffee set up for the next day, I pull my wool military blankets over me. I know peace.
Tomorrow, I’ll write.
Copyright © 2013 Patrick Jones All Rights Reserved
Have you ever wondered why wolves howl at the moon? There is so much folklore surrounding the mystery of the wolf. Even a phase of the moon was named the Wolf Moon by the Native Americans. Listen to the answer from Chris on BBC: Zoo la la Earth Unplugged TV!
An interesting article from 1/10/2013 and later updated about Wolves in Missouri.
Could there be wolves in Missouri? This is an interesting article By Rudi Keller in the Columbia Daily Tribune regarding possible wolves in Missouri.
This was the historical home of General Harney during the Civil War.
This area is rich in history from the times of The Civil War.
Thank you for your interest in The Wolf’s Moon by Patrick Jones.
Patrick Jones is the author of The Wolf’s Moon, Mystery, Thriller, Suspense
Great Interview with Patrick Jones, author of The Wolf’s Moon on 111Publishing with Doris-Maria Heilmann. Please click on the book to refer to the interview.
When I was a kid…I keep going back to those carefree days.
I was twelve years old when I bought my first paperback book. The price was twenty-five cents. For a quarter of a dollar (plus a penny for sales tax), I received a weeks worth of an exciting tale, taking me to places I never dreamed I may really go someday.
Not long after I started reading paperbacks, my dad got really sick. He was in the hospital for a long time. I did not know he liked to read but learned his favorite genre was Westerns. So my twenty-six cents went to Zane Gray.
Then one day I went to buy a book and they were up to fifty cents. I had just enough money. I planned to buy two. That was okay, Dad was not working but was starting to get around.
By the time I graduated high school, paperbacks were up to seventy-five cents. There was no money for college and my grades were not good enough to think of a scholarship. The Vietnam war was raging, and I had a choice: Get drafted and go straight to war or enlist. I would get enough training to keep me alive. So, enlist I did.
During those days of training, I learned that cold was not a totally bad thing and that an hour of sleep spread out over twenty-four was actually a lot.
Reading any type of novel was out of the question.
Some years later, I went past a drug store that had rows of paperbacks to buy.
My father passed away not long before. So when I started looking at the books, my first tendency was toward the Westerns. All the ones the store stocked I had already read. It didn’t seem right to read Westerns any more.
I bought another book. That cost me a dollar & twenty-five cents.
Since those days I have bought many books; a great many at used book stores where most were slightly discounted.
One day at a used book store in St. Louis, the owner and I were talking about what a new book would cost to publish.
He explained things simply: A person takes a year of their life to write the book. Then they spend money for the edit. Perhaps, the person lands a literary agent who gets 15%. Then if it gets sold to a publisher, they have the cost of cover design, printing, stocking and distribution. For that they get 50% or a little more. The book store that sells the book also gets a percentage.
At this point the poor author who thought he hit the mother lode is, for the time and energy to write and promote a part of his life, the recipient of the smallest amount from each sale.
On a twenty dollar paperback he makes maybe $5.00 per sale, but more like $3.00.
That made a great deal of sense.
Now I am an Indie author. I pay those costs out of my own pocket.
I am lucky enough to have a wife who is not just a business manager but does as much as a creative consultant. She did my cover design, as well as the book trailer. Sandy stays up with what I have going and need to attend. My wife designed the webpage and tends to it.
My paperbacks sell for almost $17.00 per copy. My e-book sells for $4.99.