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The Deep-Seated Psychological Reasons I Write About Werewolves

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Christmas Day, 2012 5:30 pm    I hope everyone is having a happy holiday season. Myself, I’ve been working on this little blog post off and on for the last four days. It’s been hard to find time, what with all the feasting and family, but I’ve finally got all my obligations and ‘fun’ out of the way, a fresh cup of coffee made with my new French press I got for Christmas, and I’m ready to post! Holiday Giveaway    Several weeks ago I resolved to give a book away each week during the holidays to a lucky reader who left a comment on my blog. So far, I’m way behind. Only one person has left a comment out of all the folks that visit my blog each week. I can’t believe that you guys are willing to buy these things, but I can’t give ‘em away!    I’m starting to develop a complex. No, I already have one. The only thing I can figure is you’re not making it to the end of my long-winded ramblings and therefore not scrolling down far enough to read about the giveaway.    So I’m postin
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The Old Man and the Bike

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I’m the kind of person who can overdo anything and everything, good or bad. I have a long list of addictions to prove it. The acceptance of this about myself has made the last quarter century of my life an almost daily struggle for balance. I’m constantly striving for just the right mix of work, play, intellectual stimulation and down time, that will keep me from tipping the scales too far in any direction. Take writing, for instance. It has proven a mixed blessing. Over the last five years, creating the first three books in the Red Wolf Saga has been an eye-opening, soul enriching, life changing experience for me. It has also become an obsession. Whereas I once filled as much of my free time as I could with writing, my free time has become writing time , and my free time has, well…disappeared. Last weekend, while rearranging some debris in my apartment (what I call cleaning ), I noticed the rusting chain and flattened tires on my bicycle. I suddenly realized it had been nearl
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The Real Red Wolves

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    The term red wolf must have been floating around in my subconscious when I conceived of Clifford Crane, the supernatural werewolf protagonist depicted in my Red Wolf Saga . Crane (you can check out the “My Books” tab), whom I imagine to be a cross between an Irish setter and an eight foot grizzly, bears little resemblance to the coyote-colored canid that once roamed the eastern North American continent in large numbers a few hundred years ago.     But, yes, there are real red wolves! And it wasn’t until I was almost ready to publish The Draculata Nest that I discovered they are living practically in my own back yard.     Like its grey wolf cousin, which already haunted the dreams of European settlers, the red wolves were regarded as everything from a threat to domestic livestock to agents of Satan. The “new Americans” went about systematically destroying the wolves’ natural habitat and hunting it to near extinction. Today, Canis rufus can be found living in the wild only
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