Friday, April 29, 2011

Odors, Shadows and Mist

The weather in central Oklahoma has been stormy lately, one series thunderous tempests after the other racing through and leaving paths of destruction. I awoke to a rainstorm this morning. By three, the weather was hot, muggy and sunny.

The combination didn’t last for long. Yet another storm front moved through the area, bringing with it high winds and golf ball-sized hail. It quickly passed, doing no damage in my neighborhood, but it postponed my afternoon walk.

A fragile mist hung in the air as I finally started up the road. Elevated humidity carried lingering odors with it, mostly in moist pockets settling in low spots. They reminded me of the months I had spent in the boonies of Vietnam, shielded from the elements by only a poncho liner and sheet of plastic. After living outdoors for so long, my senses became more acute. They stayed that way long after I returned to the States.

Once, Anne, Ray, Kathy and I were sitting outside by their pool. “It’s going to rain,” I said.

“I don’t know what you’re smoking, Pard, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky,” Ray said.

Within five minutes, gentle rain began soaking the cement around the pool causing Ray, Anne and Kathy to stare at me, wide-eyed.

“I could smell it coming,” I explained.

I wasn’t lying. My sense of smell was more acute than others. After living many years now in heated and air conditioned houses, that particular talent has disappeared. Still, as I plodded up the blacktop through my neighborhood, the odors carried by the mist—someone’s septic tank, the fetid smell of damp earth and grass, a dead animal—brought back memories.

It was almost dark as I rounded the last bend and started up the gentle hill to my house. Shadows cast by a darkened sky and surrounding trees formed eerie patterns on the damp and broken asphalt road. A tiny crescent moon and one bright star shined dimly through an open spot in the thick layer of clouds. It was a night perfect for wispy ghosts playing in shadowy mists. The thought crossed my mind as I shut the front door behind me.

Eric'sWeb


Saturday, April 23, 2011

Something Terrible

Years ago, I wrote a short story called Prairie Justice. I had almost forgotten the story and found it again, recently, while deleting unnecessary files from my computer. As I reread and reedited the story, details of why I wrote it in the first place flooded my brain.

The year was 1995. During April of that year, a madman blew up the Alfred P. Murrah Building, killing 168 innocent victims, including many children in daycare there. Anne, my wife then, was a fledgling lawyer, having gone to law school late in life (mid-forties). She partnered with Becky S., and we were about to move into our new offices when the bomb exploded.

I had returned home from an early-morning dentist’s appointment. I found Anne sobbing uncontrollably.

I was puzzled because Anne was a trooper. Despite all the bad things that had happened to us, I don’t recall having ever seen her cry. When I saw her that morning, she was crying like a baby.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something terrible has happened.”

We turned on the TV to a local news station. Their helicopter was heading downtown to check out an explosion that had rocked the City.

“There’s lots of smoke coming from one of the buildings. I think it’s the Federal Building,” the chopper pilot said.

A camera man was taking pictures. Except for the smoke, the front of the building looked normal. We watched as the chopper circled around the building. When the camera focused on what remained of the north side of the building, Anne and I gasped in disbelief.

“Oh my God!” the pilot said. “Oh my God!”

Days passed, and then weeks. The bombing was like a blow to the head for the entire City. It became all to common to be talking to someone, and suddenly have them dissolve into tears, blurting out some heart-wrenching story they’d kept bottled inside for far too long. Everyone had a story. Everyone was affected.

Shortly after the bombing, Becky sent Anne to interview a deadbeat, druggie client that had been put in jail for beating his wife.

“You may think he’s scum, but he deserves his day in court. He’s your client so treat him with respect, no matter how you feel about him in your heart,” Becky counseled.

Anne and I left Oklahoma City early one morning, heading west to El Reno, the Canadian County seat. I can’t even remember why we stopped there, but Iremember the courthouse facilities and the historic town well. Leaving El Reno, we passed a Las Vegas-style bingo hall in nearby Concho. Gambling was in its infancy in Oklahoma. Sixteen years later, it’s rampant.

We drove through the tiny town of Okarche, to Eischen’s Bar. The longest continuously operating bar in Oklahoma was shut down at the time because of a flash fire. We made it to Enid shortly before lunch, finding the correction’s facility ensconsced in an old neighborhood.

The jailers brought Doug (that was his first name) into a visitor’s room, wearing an orange jump suit, shackled in leg irons, hand cuffs and a belly chain. I watched from a distance as Anne talked with him for about half an hour. Wearing her own shackles of lawyer/client privilege, she never told me what they talked about.

Later that night, I wrote Prairie Justice, a short story featuring Buck McDivit, a character that had suddenly invaded my mind. The story is about a crooked oil man and mirrors a real oil man responsible for the bankruptcy of the oil company Anne and I started from scratch. Most of the description in the story actually occurred.

Years have passed since I wrote Prairie Justice, but I published it as an ebook this week. Anne died three years after the Murrah bombing. I wrote Ghost of a Chance, my first Buck McDivit novel, some years later. It was published in 2005. The scar of the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombing has faded. As I wrote this story, tears streamed down my face. Buck McDivit is now a real person to me.The Murrah Building scar has faded, and people no longer sob during normal conversation. Maybe, but the bombing still rests like a red blotch on my soul, as I’m sure it does for everyone that experienced that sad day.

Eric'sWeb

Friday, April 22, 2011

New Ebook by Eric Wilder Released

Gondwana Press has released Eric Wilder's Ghost of a Chance in eBook format. The novel features cowboy detective Buck McDivit in a mystery set on a lonely island in Caddo Lake, the largest natural lake in Texas. The full-length mystery is available in all eBook formats for $5.99. Read Ghost of a Chance and check out all the adventure, romance and mystery in Book 1 of the Buck McDivit Mystery Series.

Amazon-Kindle

Barnes & Noble-Nook

Smashwords-All formats
Eric'sWeb

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Buck McDivit Mystery - Ghost of a Chance

My contract with PublishAmerica finally expired and they released Ghost of a Chance back to me. I took a while, reedited the book and made a new cover before releasing it as an ebook. I grew up in northwest Louisiana, near Caddo, a large natural lake that occupies parts of Texas and Louisiana. The lake is beautiful and mysterious, unlike any place on earth. I used it as the location of my first mystery, Ghost of a Chance. If you like ghost stories (and who doesn't?) please give it a read. I think you'll like it, but then again I'm a little biased. - Eric

Edmond Crow Pics

Crows are intriguing birds and thousands live in Edmond, Oklahoma. I see them everyday and often take their pictures. Getting a great pic is tough because the birds are so cautious, they never let you get too close. Their color also makes proper exposure almost impossible. Still, here are two crow pics.


Crow in flight


Crow in tree



Great Gatsby Mansion Razed

httThe mansion that supposedly inspired the novel The Great Gatsby was recently demolished to make room for new development.

Mansion slideshow.

Eric'sWeb

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Marilyn's Jalapeno Cornbread - a weekend recipe

Cornbread is a staple for every good southern cook. When it comes to making cornbread, few can compete with my own wife, and wonderful southern cook, Marilyn. Here is her cornbread recipe using jalapenos, her daughter Shannon’s favorite.

Ingredients

• 2 ½ c cornmeal

• 1 c flour

• 2 Tbsp. sugar

• 1 Tbsp. salt

• 4 tsp. baking powder

• 3 eggs, lightly beaten

• 1 ½ c milk

• ½ c cooking oil

• 16 oz. can cream corn

• 2 jalapeno chili peppers, chopped and seeded

• 2 c sharp cheddar cheese, grated

• 1 onion, large, grated

Directions

Combine first five ingredients in a bowl. In another bowl, mix milk, eggs and cooking oil, and then combine with cornmeal mixture. Stir in remaining ingredients, and then pour into two well greased baking pans. Bake at 425° for 25 minutes, or until done.

Eric'sWeb

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Big Billy's Texas Pintos withTomatillo Salsa Verde - a weekend recipe

Big Billy loved his beans. Once when he was staying with me and Anne, he cooked up pinto beans, complete with his special tomatillo salsa Verde. He also whipped up a pan of cornbread using ingredients he found in our pantry. To say the meal was wonderful is an understatement. It was sublime!

Ingredients

• 1 lb dry pinto beans

• 29 oz chicken broth

• 1 onion, large, chopped

• 1 jalapeno pepper, chopped

• 3 cloves garlic, minced

• ½ c tomatillo salsa Verde

• 1 tsp cumin

• ½ tsp black pepper, ground

• 1 c water

Directions

Soak beans overnight in a large pot with ample cold water. Drain and place the pinto beans in a crock pot. Pour in the chicken broth and water. Stir in onion, jalapeno, garlic, tomatillo salsa Verde, cumin, and black pepper. Cook for 8 hours.

Eric'sWeb

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Big Billy’s Tomatillo Salsa Verde - a weekend recipe

Big Billy’s green sauce was to die for, and goes well with many dishes. Here is his special recipe with tomatillos.
Ingredients

• 1 lb tomatillos, husked

• ½ c onion, finely chopped

• 1 tsp garlic, minced

• 2 Poblano peppers, minced

• 2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped

• 1 Tbsp oregano, chopped, fresh

• ½ tsp cumin, ground

• 1 ½ tsp salt, or to taste

• 1 Lime, juiced

Directions

Place all ingredients in a blender. Puree until smooth. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer about 15 minutes.

Eric'sWeb

Alcoholic Hazes - a short story

Hurricane Katrina decimated New Orleans in August 2005. My Louisiana parents were living with my wife Marilyn and me in Oklahoma. My mom had...