My book "Sleepytown" is published and available for ordering. After research, thinking, and generally diving in "feet-first," Sleepytown press is up and running. The first item was publishing my book as it should have been published back in 2008. This time, I designed the cover and it looks incredible. The illustrations in the book absolutely pop off the page. The difference is light night and day. It is amazing.

Next, I just finished formating and designing a cover for a Children's Book for an author in Hawaii. Go to www.sleepytownpress.weebly.com and click on Sleepytown Authors to read more about the author and illustrator of the NEW Children's Book "Finding Our `Ohana."

If you have not visited my web site and read about the contest for Horror, go and look and see. Drop me a note, if you have any questions. I would enjoy hearing from you.

I have been pretty busy lately. I did have something bad happen, that I will write about later. I know that you will understand. Some of you will get mad with me. It stinks and should not happen to anyone.

Make sure that you visit my web site www.sleepytownpress.weebly.com and see what is going on in my neck of the woods.

Hey, drop by www.sleepytownpress.weebly.com and see all the changes. Check out each page and drop me a note and let me know what you think.

Zander, the little boy in SleepyTown is in the hospital. He had surgery on his feet this morning.

Take care! More info tomorrow.

Do you have a fear of something that goes deep deep down inside of you. Does it make you shake and break out in a sweat?

I am testing the waters with a writing contest. Go to my publishing site to read more about it.

www.sleepytownpress.weebly.com

Interested? Send me your story. This can be a lot of fun. Check it out.

If you are not interested, maybe you know someone who will be interested.

Pass the word around.

I am looking forward to hearing from you.

Randy

A lot has been happening. I have decided to go with my heart and desires and start my publishing company. Sleepy Town Press will be looking for unique Children's Books. I will also publish things that are not for children, but they will be under an imprint of Sleepy Town Press.

I just don't see Sleepy Town Press being attached to a horror book, but some other name will be used.

Go to my new web site and check it out.

www.sleepytownpress.weebly.com

I would love to hear back from you.

Randy

I have been so busy, but things will get better. Drop in and spend a moment or two with me.
I am going to get back to writing at least three days a week. I need to get back into it. Sorry for the delay.

I have this short story that I am writing. It is a story for a contest and the subject is horror or scary story. I have been working on it for a week, but last night I did something really brave.

I read what I had written to my youngest daughter and son-in-law. needless to say, it is not always wise to read something to family, especially son-in-laws. After all, they married into the family. They are not "true blood."

You know how it goes. You really do not want a critique. You want gasps and "Oh my goodness" and "That is amazing." I did not get that. I got, "Why did you say that? Does that mean...Are you stupid?"

I did not tell them, but I skipped a couple of pages, in my reading, and said, "The End."

I got up, folded my story and put it on the shelf and did the next best thing. I went to the store and purchased something to eat.

Later, I finished off the ice cream in the freezer. it was Strawberry Cheese Cake. It made me feel better.

School is back in session. It is time to get going, again.
Sorry for being gone, but I had so much going on during June and July. I just did not have the time to blog that much. I was busy writing and other things.

What have I been up to?

I worked the first two week of June with a Kid's Program at the local Junior College. I will admit that I did it for the money. It was vacation money.

I had around 60 kids a day. We did a lot of Art stuff. It was fun. They seemed to enjoy it. We split the kids into three groups. 1-2, 3-4, and 5-6. I had 23 first and second graders.

I had an interview on local tv for my book "Sleepy Town."

I worked on a couple of Children's Stories. I am sending one off to a publisher today.

I wrote a Vampire Short Story and submitted it. I have not heard from it, yet.

I got some good news this past week. I sent a horror story to a magazine in the UK, and they liked it. It is going to be printed in their magazine. I also submitted an illustration that might be used. It is not a sure thing. The story is a sure thing. They do not pay royalties. They publish your story and send you a magazine. I will let you know how it goes. if interested, you will be able to purchase the magazine online.

I was asked to teach three Saturday classes on writing. The three classes will be "Writing Picture Books," "Creative Writing 001," and "writing for Children and Teens." They will be the third Saturday of the three months September, october, and November.

Look, I do not claim to know it all, but I have learned a bucket load of stuff. I mean a huge bucket load.

Check back tomorrow for an update. I should know something about the illustration by then.

Take care.

Randy

It has been a fast and busy summer. I just returned from a week at the beach. It was wonderful. I rode jet skis. I saw lots of dolphins, sting rays, and a few sharks.

There was actually a shark that swam around me and Zander. We were in a shallow area about 2 feet deep and it came between us and the beach. It was around three feet long. I am glad that it was not hungry for me or Zander.

A day later, we watched a man and woman fishing from the balcony. The shark came close to them a number of times. They had bait. CRAZY!

On Friday night, I rode the Sky Coaster with my youngest daughter. We were strapped into slings. They hooked up to cables. Then, we were pulled up around 100 feet. To be honest, 100 feet is higher than it looks from the ground.

The guy running the attraction said, "Three, two, one, fly."

My daughter pulled the rip-cord and we flew. I will admit that it was fun. The hardest part is going up. You do not think that it will ever stop.

More tomorrow. Take care.

TALK RADIO: JOIN ME

I will be on Talk Radio. Listen in.

Mark your Calendar, Please!

Friends, authors, artists, and illustrators:

I have been invited to be on the Meet The Author show at 11:30 a.m. Eastern on July 21 with Dennis Griffin.

Come and listen. Call in. I would love to hear from you.


All you have to do is go to http://www.
blogtalkradio. com/dennisngriffin.

My show will be archived on that site shortly after its completion and can be played back as a podcast or downloaded to use or share later.

This is another person that does what our dear lesa does. Please, come and give me some support. I would appreciate it very much.

I will post several reminders.

Randy

If you are a writer that likes to enter contests, check out "Writers Journal." It has great articles, contests, and market news.

The magazine has contests that are posted at the same time each year. Some deadlines have already passed for 2008. There are also things to come that you just might be interested in entering.

The items left for this year are:

Romance July 30
Science Fiction/Fantasy November 30
Poetry August 30 & December 30
Photo November 30

Fiction, Short Story, and Horror/Ghost were earlier this year. All of this is repeated each year. The deadlines stay the same from year to year.

Some of the first place awards are as much as $250.00.

Go online or to your local book store and check it out. No, they do not pay me anything for passing word along. I just thought that some of you would like to know about all of this stuff.

There are also "Write to Win! Contests." You are given a line starter and you go with it. First place gets $150 and a subscription to the magazine.

I almost forgot, winning selections are printed in their magazine.

So, go check it out.

Have a fun summer!
Randy

I have been invited to be on Talk Radio. Please, listen and call in, if possible.
I will be on Talk Radio on Friday, June 27th at 8:00 CENTRAL. I will be on for one hour. You can listen for FREE on the web. Go to the link below and check it out.
www.blogtalkradio.com/AngelLesa

There will be a phone number listed during the show. Call in and Lesa will mention your area code and all you have to do is talk. It is great fun.

Register for FREE to leave a comment or chat live during the show. You can also sign-up for show reminders. Lesa has a lot of great authors on her show. You would love listening and getting a lot of useful ideas.

You can also check out her archives and listen to past shows for FREE.

You are also welcome to call in and ask a question. I would love to hear from you.

REMEMBER: Friday, June 27th at 8:00 Central.

I am just having one of those days. It happens to all of us at some time or another, I think.

It is nice to finally have my book in my hands, but there is a low at the same time. I feel frustrated because I want people to like it. I want them to buy it because they like it, not because they know me. I want them to like it.

I had someone say, "What a nice thing to do for Zander."

I did not do it for Zander, I did it for children.

It was inspired by Zander and something that happened in our lives that made me even come up with the idea of Sleepy Town.

I wrote it from the heart. It is a part of me. I worked and worked to get the words right. It might not be a huge, thick book of thousands of words, but it is a part of me.

I slaved over the illustrations. I spent hours making them what they are today. I wanted kids to like them. I kept them simple. I wanted children to see them and identify with them.

Am I just spazing over nothing. I want the book to mean something. I want it to have wings. I want it to fly. I want it to have a life beyond me. Is that too much to wish for? I do not know.

Okay, today, this is the ranting of an author/illustrator that wants to see his book make a difference and inspire.

DON'T WE ALL WANT THIS OF OUR WORK?

I do appreciate you reading my ranting and ideas.

Drop me a note. I would love to hear from you.

I got my book today. It is beautiful. Please, ask for it in your local book store. It is a great book for children, expecially before bed-time.

It is listed on Amazon.com, Target.com, and Barnes & Noble.com.

My local toy store, THINK TOYS, is going to have a book signing, soon.

More later!

I have been working Kid's College this week. We have 70 kids. Am I crazy or what? I am teaching Art. It is okay, I just forget how much drama can be carried on by children. LOL The same is true for high school students, too.

Drama, drama, drama! Here I am sounding like drama, myself.

Hey, did you hear about the book TUNNELS? It was written by two guys in the UK. They could not get a publisher, so they self-published and have sold around 2500 copies. Finally, a publisher took notice and a film company is purchasing the rights. They are going to pay a $1,000,000.00 advance on the movie.

It is the story of a 10 year old boy who discovers a series of tunnels and communities under the ground, near where he lives.

People are saying that it might take up the place of honor that Harry Potter has had for so long.

Interesting stuff, huh?

More later.

Finally, after a long wait, my book is listed on Amazon.com and Target.com. Others will follow, in the near future.
Just a quick note. Sleepy Town is now available through Amazon.com and Target.com. (Web site listed below this email.)

This is a new listing for both web stores.

You are not obligated to order from Amazon. I just wanted you to see that it is finally out.

When I have the book, (I have some ordered.) my local store THINK TOYS will have a book signing. I will let you know, just in case you would like to drop by. I will have Zander there that day signing the book, also.

I have been asked to be on a radio broadcast that will be June 23rd. (World-Wide) I will give you more information, later.

I am already starting to line-up visits to local schools for the fall. (This will be a blast!)

I have been asked about visiting two local colleges and talking to the Children's Lit Classes about writing and illustrating a book.

The local tv station is interested in knowing more.

I hope to visit my local Public Library and have a "Sleepytown Day." More information later.

Please, go to my "artnbooks" (See my links.)site and check out the additions. I am not finished, but it looks good.

There are so many possiblities! I am very excited about a chance for me to promote reading, writing, and art. That is what I want to do. I WANT CHILDREN TO GET EXCITED ABOUT BOOKS AND ART!!!

I would love to start a local painting class, but I can not afford the expensive rental charges for a place. They want an arm and a leg, and I need all of mine. LOL

Pray that God opens a door. Right now, I will take a window.

Thank You for reading about my excitement over my book.

Oops, I almost missed telling you. I sent off a short story that hopefully will be selected for a collection this fall. Cross your fingers.

More excitement: I was rejected by a magazine. Why am I excited? The editor said that it was a good story. He said that he enjoyed reading it. He said that it takes talent to write a good story. (THIS MEANS A BUNCH TO ME.) It is not quite winning the Lottery, but close. Not really!

ON TOP OF THAT: He said that he hoped that I would send other submissions. THAT IS HUGE!!!

I included this good note because I know that ALL OF YOU understand how huge this is for me.

It was a horror story. I have sent it out, again, to another magazine. Who knows, this one might say "YES!"

"I would rather shoot at something and miss, than never shoot at all." -Randy

Please do not see this as a BRAG. I hate braggers! I am sharing a blessing.

MORE LATER!!!

Have a great summer.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/098179016X/ref=cm_cr_thx_view

I read something today that made me think. I know, I know, I say so much without thinking, this is bound to be interesting.

Consider the sensory details in your work. Studies have shown that the sense of smell is one of our most emotionally evocative senses.

As a writer, are you just a sightseer or do your stories smell as well?

That was it! A study showed that the sense of smell has an emotional effect on us as people. I said people because it would be of non-effect to robots.

This started me to thinking about the sense of smell.

I know a guy whose mother kept one of her husband's shirts with her in the bed. She missed the smell. He saw his mom go to bed each night, clutching the shirt. It was almost like a security blanket, only with a shirt. It was a reminder.

The guy hated to see his mom do that, but he never bothered her about it. I am glad that he did not say anything. She ws dealing with the hurt her way.

I can understand this.

Smells get to us, be they good or bad. I know that I am really affected by smells early in the morning, after taking a shower. If I come into contact with a good smell, well and good. if I come into contact with a bad smell, it can make my stomach turn.

Oops, sorry. For those of you who just felt your stomach lurch because of what I said, I am sorry. I did not mean to do that, but see, smells get to us.

I am going to try to work harder and incorporate more smell into my stories.

You might laugh at this, but I wish I could invent "smell-a-vision." It would be so cool to be able to watch a cooking show and smell the food. That would be awesome. It would also be dangerous.

I could see the headlines now: MAN CHOKES TO DEATH ON TV.

Keep writing, but remember to write with your nose!

Definition: A sudden striking understanding of something.

I read something the other day that totally changed my way of thinking concerning publishers and sending off manuscripts. I know that this will not be earth shattering, but it made me think in a way that I had not been thinking. I know, I know, you are going to probably laugh at me and call me something under your breath.


I was reading something by a publisher. She said something that totally turned my world around. I am not going to quote her exactly, but I am going to let you in on my epiphany.

She said that when she reads a manuscript she is "looking for a reason to reject it."


I know that you did not feel the earth move under your feet. I know that the walls did not tumble down. I know that you did not stand at your computer and say "YES!" (If you did, go take your temperature. You might be sick.)

It did make me look at my writing differently.

With this said, please, forgive me if I share a good thing for myself. I had some feedback from a publisher recently that said some good things.

Look, I am sure that you already know that if a publisher takes the time to comment back, that is very good.

I sent a short story to a magazine. It was a horror story for a horror magazine. The editor of the magazine read the story and sent me several comments.

Below, I will copy and paste his comments:

Thank you for your submission, unfortunately we will not be able to use the material offered. I enjoyed reading your story, but it is not quite right for us.

We wish you good luck in placing your story elsewhere, and I hope that you will consider sending further submissions for us to consider.

It's a good story, please do not give up. It takes talent to write a good story. (He said that it was a good story and that it takes talent to write a good story. This is awesome. It took me a minute to understand what he said to me. He was saying, "You have talent.")

Keep writing and keep submitting stories, we would be happy to see more of your work, and although we have not used the piece you sent us you should have a look at it, see if you can improve on it and submit it to another publication as it might be more suitable for them. (Okay, this is his nice way of saying, "Don't send the same story back to us." When a publisher comments back that is a "good thing." Chalk it up to something good and go forward. I did change a couple of things and I sent the story to another magazine.)

Good luck and thanks for submitting your work.

It's difficult to say what we're looking for, it's no specific thing. A story needs to stand out, it must have something outstanding, be it style, plot, or character. A story that makes you feel something is very rare.

Good luck!
Yep! The above stuff was what the publisher said to me concerning my submission.

I included it today because it speaks to all of us. Look at what the publisher said about submissions. They are looking for something that stands out, with style, plot, or character. They want a story that makes you feel something.

Interesting stuff!

So, I sent the story to another magazine. I will wait and see what they say. I do know that since I got a good word from one publisher does not mean that I will automatically get a good word from another publisher. It does give me hope.

He liked my story and enjoyed reading it.

I really do not think that the coach meant anything bad by what he had done.

Some people are motivated by the negative. I am not. I have a hard time, when someone is critical. I would have a hard time, if a coach were to chew me out for something.

I grew up with a screamer. If DHR had been around during my childhood, they would have probably taken me out of my home at times.

Hey, sometimes, I wanted to take myself out of the house.

After the PE event, I went home and told my mom and dad about it. I did not want to at first, but I finally told them what had happened. They did not want to make a scene. They did not want to cause trouble, so they wanted me to talk to the counselor about switching from PE to something else.

I switched from PE to library assistant. It got me out of the gym and into something that was easier for me to do, physically.

Since I liked books, this was perfect for me. I got along very well with the librarian.

I wanted to play football so badly. I mean, honest, I wanted to play on the football team. I could not. If I had turned my ankle, it would have torn everything loose that was in my foot. It would have destroyed it all. So, I was not allowed to play.

One of the coaches knew how much I wanted to play, and he asked if I wanted to be the manager and help them at practice and go to the games. I was so excited. I went home and told my mom about it. She said, "NO!" My heart sunk. I was so upset. I wanted to do it. I wanted to be a part fo the team. This was a way that I could do it, but my mom said, "NO!"

She was the boss in the family. Dad did everything to please her. He gave her everything she wanted. She was the first child of ten and dad spoiled her. Being spoiled is not always a bad thing. It depends on how you let it affect you.

As to having friends, I had one guy that I was really close to as a friend in high school. His name was Eugene, but his friends called him "Bo." He was a great guy. I have no idea what happened to him. I have not seen him since graduation.

My mom would not let me go to anyone's house. I was not allowed to have friends over. I had no friends. I did not hang out with friends. I did not go swimming with friends. I did not go to the movies with friends. I had no friends outside of school.

During my senior year, I started working a job at the public library. I was a "Page." That meant that I shelved books and straightened shelves. I did work the circulation desk some and check in and out books. I worked for $1.00 an hour. How crazy is that. I worked 100 hours a month and got paid once a month.

I worked at the library for ten years. I stayed on after graduation and became a department head eventually. Some days, I think about it and I wish I were still there. I loved being around the books. I did have a lot of fun working at the library. Maybe one day I will tell you about all the crazy stuff that we did there.

I am sure that I am not the only one, nor will I be the last, but some bad things happened to me around age 10 and 11. It was not my fault. Hopefully, I am a better person for having some difficult times and surviving.

I made some bad choices. I chose some stupid things to do. I also did not do some things that I could have done. So goes a person's life. We all do things and we have our reasons. We all have outcomes.

My leg and foot are still the same. I do not feel it. I can not feel my foot. My leg gets as cold as ice in the winter. You would not believe how cold it gets. it is what I deal with.

Sometimes, I hurt, but I never say anything about it. I never wanted to be a complainer. I wanted to be strong. I do think about the years ahead and wonder if I will always be able to walk, like I do now? Will I need a cane? Will I have a problem walking up and down stairs. I get tired. If I go to an amusement park and walk all day, it hurts me the next day. So is my life. This is what I have and I make it.

You, the reader, have your own thing in your life. It might not be the saem as mine, but it gets you down sometimes. You have to learn to deal with something that I do not have to deal with. I want to encourage you to make something special of your life.

Do the impossible. Shoot for the stars.

Remember: If you miss, at least you will land among the stars.

I walk with a limp because of polio. I have a reason to limp and I live with it every day of my life. I have to deal with it. I still want to be normal. I want to walk barefoot. I want to run barefoot on the sand. I do believe in God. I believe that he cares about us.

I trust Him to work in me.

One day, in heaven, they say we will have a new body. I can not imagine what it would be like to look down and see a normal developed leg and foot. I think that I would yell and run and jump and play.

I do hope that I get to run barefoot on the sand. I pray that God has a strip of water bordered by sand. I want to run and leave my footprints in the sand.

I want to finally be able to run barefoot from the sand into the water and feel it splash all up my body and know that I will not trip and fall. That would be nice.

If you are still with me, this will come to an end, eventually. I promise. I would like to hear from someone and know that it mattered.

When I got through the surgeries in jr. high school, I was able to start wearing low-top shoes and get rid of the brace. Why? I did not have any control over my foot, normally. When I took a step, it flopped. I could not move it. I could not hold it up. So, it flopped.

That is also why I could not run barefoot. If I tried to run barefoot, I would trip over my foot and toes and fall. Worse than that, I had two steel pins in my big toe. They had to break it and reset it and put the pins in it. (I still have them.)

When I tried to run, if I tripped on my foot and my toe bent under my foot, it hurt like nothing you have ever had before. It would bring tears to my eyes.

After the surgeries, I had a steel block in my foot that made my foot stay out, when I walk. It does not flop. I can actually walk barefoot. I can not run barefoot. That will never happen.

The surgeries gave me enough control that the brace was not needed anymore. I was free.

I started 9th grade being able to wear regular shoes like everyone else. This was great. it made me look like everyone else, even if I was still different. That was important to me.

You have to know that I will always have a reminder of having a handicap in my life. My left foot is around a size 9 and my right foot is around a size 12. That would make my left foot pretty short. All of my life, I have had to stuff the toes, or wear two socks, or make some kind of adjustment to be able to wear shoes. Stores do not sale individual pairs for people like me. It would be nice.

When I wear shoes, the left one actually can be slipped on and off without undoing the string. I guess that makes all of my left shoes "slip-ons." LOL I never thought about that. Cool! I guess.

Entering my freshman year, I had to go to PE. You know the class. A bunch of guys in one room had to undress in front of everyone. I hated it. Why? My left leg did not develop from the knee down like my right leg. It is thin. I have one right leg that is chunky healthy like normal and then on my left I have pencil-leg.

You see, Polio attackes the muscles. Muscles do not grow properly. They do not develop properly. Oh, I am fortunate. I was affected by polio in the leg. Some people had to be on special machines. Some could not walk. Some could not do what I do.

Our PE teacher was the head football coach. He was all coach, too. We started each day with exercises in the gym. Again, it was a group thing, but every grade was together. I was in class with all grades including seniors.

I would make myself late so that I did not have to undress in front of anyone. I faked having to go to the bathroom or something. Most days it worked.

The coach had us do all kinds of things, but there was one thing that I could not do. I could not do push-ups. You know them. Every man knows them. This is the "true" test of a man.

I could not do them because I could not hold myself up on my toes. I could not. I can not. I will not ever be able to do it. I am physically unable to do it. My left foot and toes have no strength. They bend. They have no muscles to push.

Our coach thought that he would make the class laugh at me and that maybe I would be motivated to do the push-ups. He got eveyone's attention and said, "Look at young. He can't do a push-up. Come on Young." The class laughed.

He stood there with "missing fingers" and made the class laugh at me. I would have gotten into trouble, if I had made a joke of him and caused anyone to laugh. They laughed. I was humiliated.

I went home that day sick. The next day, my stomach hurt so badly that I did not want to go to school. I did not go to school. I did not want to go back to PE ever.

Did the coach know what he had done? Probably not. He crushed my heart and stepped on my soul.

It is not one of my fondest memories of my years in high school.

more later

If I have not bored you to complete tears, I will continue the story.

I did not have to stay too long in the hospital. I had an advantage. I am paralized in my left leg from the knee down. I could not feel it. I did not have to take pain medication. That made it possible for me to go home earlier than most.

The day I left, the other guys in our room cried.

They also wanted my bed. They called it a lucky bed because I did not have to stay long. They wanted my bed so they would get to go home next.

I never saw them, again. They went their way and all. I never saw them, but I have never forgotten them. I have always wondered how they did and how their lives turned out.

I went home. I had a cast that went all the way from my foot up to my hip. I hated it. I had to use crutches. If you have ever used crutches, you will understand how horrid it was. I had to go to school with my cast and crutches.

Once, I was going up the stairs and I fell up the stairs. At least it was up and not down. I got a lot of funny looks. Would you believe that most students just watched me laying there on the floor. What is wrong with people?

By the way, I did have another surgery later. This was only the first surgery. I mentioned my brace. The good thing was knowing that these surgeries would lead to me being able to get rid of the high top shoes with braces and wear normal, low-top shoes.

I saved this until now.

I had to wear the brace attached to high-top shoes from a baby until later in junior high school.

Once a year, I had a "freedom day." I was taken to Birmingham to see my doctor and have the brace fitted to a new pair of shoes. It was only one day a year.

That meant that 364 days out of the year, I had to wear the brace. That one day I was free. I got to go around town without my brace.

That did not mean that I walked around. I got to ride in the car without my shoes. I did not have to have that brace stapped to my leg. I loved it.

For that one day a year, I looked down and the brace was gone. I had one free day! It made me want to cry, but I never talked about it. My mom and dad did not know how I felt inside. They did not know how much I wanted to just be normal. I did not want to be different. I did not want people to stare at me. I did not want children to look and wonder. I most assuridly did not want to wear shorts so that eveyone could see my brace.

Later that evening, we went back to the shoe-repair shop and my dad picked up my shoes. I had to try them on and let the guy see how they fit.

Then, I was stuck with my brace until a year later. This is why I was so excited about the surgeries. If everything went well, I would get to wear regular shoes.

I would get rid of the brace. (I don't know what happened to the brace. I do not know where it was put. If I knew, I would get it and hold it and probably cry.)

Someone asked me once about how I coped with the brace as a child. This might sound funny, but I told myself that I was like the tin man in The Wizard of Oz.

My brace would develop and squeek and I had to carry an oil can with me. if it started to squeek, I had to oil the bolts and connections and it would stop making a noise. I was like the "tin man."

Maybe a part of me lived in my own Land of Oz.

more later.

I hope that I am not boring you. I have never gone into this much detail before about my life. Maybe it is time to cleanse or something.

Sometimes, in elementary school, I would do something really stupid. I would go out on the playground and crawl in behind a bush and sit.

I knew that no one wanted me to play on their team. Here, I was the king of my own domain. I was in control. I would often sit there the entire time, drawing with a stick in the dirt.

I had one major friend in elementary school. His name was Rocky. That is right, his name was actually Rocky. He was a cool kid.

He was a loner and we fit together. We hung around together. I thought he was the greatest guy.

Later, in elementary school, his parents moved to Texas. I never saw him, again. I have thought about him a thousand times or more. I have wondered about him. I was told several years ago that he went bad in some ways. I do not know this, first hand. I hope it was just talk.

I joined the band in elementary school. I wanted to play the drums, but the band class had an overflow of guys wanting to be drummers. I had to play the sax. It was almost as big as me. I did not get very far. My grades started to go down and my mom made me quit band. I never did learn how to play the sax.

In Junior High School, my doctor decided to operate on my foot. He was waiting until I reached a cetain stage in growth. He said that the procedure would affect my growth.

So, I was taken to the Crippled Children's Hospital for surgery. I was in a ward. That meant that there were four beds in the room. I had the bed closest to the door. In the far left corner, next to the window was a guy named Jerry. he had been there for a while. Then, across from me, near the other door was a kid named Carl. The fourth bed was empty.

My parents visited me every day.

Jerry never had a visitor. We were on the third floor, I think. He was very sad. His mom would come to the parking lot, but she would never come up to the room. He would open the window and yell down at her.

"Mom, won't you come up and see me? He would yell. "Why won't you, mom?" He cried. He cried a lot.

Sometimes, I closed my eyes and ears to keep from listening to him yell down to his mom. It made me sad. Maybe she was having a hard time dealing with a son that had something wrong with him. She never came up.

Once, Jerry was caught trying to go down the stairs in his wheel chair. They brought him back. We laughed about it.

Then, they brought in Carl. He had something around his neck. It was some kind of brace. He had worn it for I do not know how long. All he wanted was to get his hair cut. The doctor had told them to not cut his hair until the brace comes off. I will never forget the day they took him down to surgery. He just wanted to get his hair cut.

They told him that if everything was okay that he would wake up and find the collar gone. He was so excited.

They took him away. He was put to sleep. When they brought him back to the room, he still had the brace on his neck. It did not seem fair. He just wanted a hair cut.

I kept looking over at him, waiting for him to wake up. Finally, he began to move a little. He was alone. No one was there with him. His parents were not there. No one was there to comfort him and tell him that he would be alright.

I watched him reach up and feel of the collar. He began to cry. I said something to him, but he turned toward the wall and sobbed. He did not cry; he sobbed.

His entire body shook. It was sad.

It was like that at the Crippled Children's Hospital. You had good days and you had bad days. The bad days were no fun at all.

We played pool from our wheel chairs. They had a lower table that guys in wheel chairs could reach. It was fun. We tried to escape from our room and go to the recreation room as much as possible. Sometimes, they would track us down and make us go back to your room.

more later.

If you have read my bio, you know that I was born with POLIO.

I have never taken the time to do what I am going to do here. I am going to start with my birth and tell you what it was like, growing up "wanting to be normal."

First, I want to let you know that I am not an only child. I do have "one" older brother, but he is the perfect child. He never does anything wrong. I, on the other hand, do not do that much that is right. He was and is the favorite child. (Was then, is now.)

Basically, my brother hated my guts. He is seven years older. We never felt like brothers growing up together. I was just the younger brother. I was some mosquito that needed to be swatted. Several times, he did swat me.

I know that I will not be able to put everything in one blog. I will do my best to include what you might find interesting.

I was born premature. I weighed 4 lbs. and 10 and 1/2 oz. I was so sick that the doctor sat beside my bed all night. I was not expected to live. My doctor was a woman named Dr. Luthor. She was as "rough as a cob," but she cared about my life.

It did not take long, after being a new-born that the baby doctors noiced that something was not right with my left leg. They did not know what was wrong, but they wanted to do something about it. So, they put a cast on my leg.

They did not know of anything else to do. They did what they figured was best. They did not know that I had polio. No one knew that I was paralized from the knee down. My leg was in a cast. You could not observe the foot and leg.

That first year, my parents said that they literally shook down a baby bed. At night, I would not go to sleep without someone shaking the bed or something. Don't blame me, I did not start it. They did. I just wanted them to keep doing it. They spoiled me to wanting it every time that I needed to go to sleep.

They managed to stick out a leg at night and shake the bed until I fell asleep. They said that the bed came apart and colapsed one day. I was not in it at the time.

I was taken to Birmingham, Alabama to a special doctor. He was Dr. Vesley. I still remember him. I remember him measuring my leg and looking at my foot. He was the doctor that prescribed a brace for me.

I did not tell you, but the cast that I wore made my big toe grow crooked. It was cramped in the cast and the cast did not grow along with my foot and leg. Later, I had to have surgery to break the toe and reset it. I will tell you about that later.

Before having the brace, I tried to walk. I did not have any control over my foot. It turned outward and was dragged along at the end of my left leg. I could not run. If i tried to run, I would trip over my own foot and fall.

The brace was attached to my high-top shoes and fastened around my leg, just below the knee. It was heavy and it made my leg sweat under the band at the top of the race where it was strapped around my leg. I would have to stop, stick my finger between the leg and brace and circle around in order to get some air to my leg.

I had to wear that brace from sun-up to sun-down. I did not have to wear it in the bed, but I had to have it to walk. I could not get up and run bare-foot. I wanted to run bare-foot. I wanted to be "normal." I wanted to be able to run and play like the "normal" kids.

I hated to wear shorts. My mom made me, but I hated it. Sometimes, I would hide in the closet to try and keep her from putting shorts on me. Shorts did not cover up the brace. Everyone could see it. I looked like everyone else, until they looked at my leg. Sometimes, I would go around the corner of the house and cry. I felt like I was the only little boy in the world that felt like some kind of freak. I hated the brace. I hated wearing shorts. I hated being different.

Once, there were family members at the house and mom decided they were going to go down town. The car only held so many people. She told me that I could not go that there was not enough room in the car. I had to stay home while they went to town. I was brave. I watched them drive away. Then, I went to the side of the house and cried.

I sat there not fully understanding why I did not get to go. To me, it all went back to my leg and foot. If I were "normal," I would have gotten to go. It was my falt. It was my leg and foot. I cried.

I never told anyone how I felt. I never admitted to the feelings that were building inside of me. I thought about hurting myself. I was angry at myself, then I wanted to do something to make mom regret leaving me at home. I wanted to run away. I even looked at a coke bottle and thought about eating glass, but I hated pain and the sight of blood.

You have to understand. I was a child. I did not understand it all. I was trying to figure out my view of the world and from here, it looked pretty bad.

On top of this, I developed a habit that is still with me today. We had family or people drop in often at our house. They always seemed to come around dinner time. Of course, we had to share our food. If there was not a lot of food, you might actually have to share what you have on your plate, or portions were cut down really low. I hated it.

It did not take long for me to figure out that if I had bitten off of everything no one wanted it. If I had a sandwich that was cut in half, it was subject to abduction by a visiting family member or guest. I could have a half of a sandwich taken off of my plate and shared. I began to take a couple of bites out of one half, lay it down, and start to eat the other half. If I had already bitten into the halfs, no one wanted them. It worked.

I learned at an early age that if I wanted to protect my food, I had to eat some of everything at the start. I could not leave anything untouched. I know that it is weird, but it sticks with me to this day.

If I have a sandwich that is cut into two halves. I take a bite out of one, lay it down, and eat the other half. That way, no one will come in and take my food.

Also, I forgot to mention. I was warped by this in my childhood. As a result, I can not stand anyone to touch my food or reach into my plate. Honest, I get so mad when someone wants to reach in my plate. If I tell someone to try something, that is different.

When I started first grade, I wore my brace, of course. It was not too bad. I had on long pants and no one could see it. I liked the classroom best. I did not look forward to going to the playground that much. In the classroom, I looked like everyone else. Sitting in my desk, I was "normal." No one mad fun of me. I could compete on the same level as everyone else. It was math, reading, language, history, and show and tell.

Every day, I was reminded of my leg and foot, when we went to the play ground. I remember how it felt, to be chosen last for games.

I wanted to play ball so much, but I was horrid at running. I could not help it. I did my best. The teacher always chose the "jock" of the class to be the team captain. He was a favorite of the class. He was strong and he could run fast. But, he did not want the guy with a limp on his team.

I remember the look on the faces as the team captains were choosing sides. They sometimes avoided my eyes as they looked at all of us lined-up and waiting for selection.

"I'll take..." they chose back and forth. Guess who was always last? Me! On top of it, I saw the look in the eyes. I saw the disgust. I saw the shoulders. I heard the sigh, just before a reluctant, "Okay...Young."

I was always last.

more later

Most of my life, I have wanted to write a novel.

Yes, I write children's stories and picture books. Yes, I write poetry. Yes, I illustrate my own children's books. But, deep down inside I have always wanted to write a novel.

Today, I make a promise to myself to begin the process.

I am going to write that novel. Everyone has to start somewhere, and I choose to start today. I am going to commit to writing "three pages" a day. That does not mean that I can not write more. It does mean that I commit to three pages. If I have a good day and I go beyond three pages, that is fine.

That does not give me an excuse to be a "slacker" the next day.

I commit to three pages a day.

Why am I starting my novel so late in my writing years? I kept putting it off until I felt right, or had some inspiration. It has not come.

If I keep waiting, it will never come.

How in "tarnation" could a person manage to write three pages a day? Sit down and write without stopping.

If you have read some of my earlier posts, you know that I have always suggested that you write without consulting the dictionary or any aide.

Just write and write. If you notice something that needs correcting, mark it in some way and go back later.

Ever have one of those days when your mind wonders? Ever have a day when you find it hard settling on any one thing? I am at that point right now, today. Read my ramblings and drop me a note. Hey, I would love to hear from you.

I work at a high school in Special Ed. I like it, well enough, but at this time of year, I get drained. Students are frustrated. Some have wasted time and they need to pass. Teachers are on that stead track, trying to get everything in that should be done. It is a race to the finish. As for money, I am an aide. That does not bring in a lot of money, but money is not everything.

It would be fun to have money and do special things with it. That would be a blast. Of course, being an author is not making me rich. Well, I take that back. I am rich. Many people do not get to enjoy something that they love and share it with others. I get to do that with writing. As stated before, I do not claim to be an expert.

Someone once said that an expert is a drop of water under pressure. In that case, I am a drop of water under pressure.

I have just written two short stories. One is a vampire story and the other is a horror story. I know, I know what some are thinking, "But, you write children's books." I know and maybe this is my way of going the other direction and taking a sabbatical or something. (Only this leave does not have pay that comes along with it.)

I want to start a web page, but I can not put a lot of money into it. It has to be pretty cheap. I am not a cheap guy, but I just do not have a lot of money to spend. I am looking for something inexpensive. Got any ideas?

I want something that I can arrange things on it and all. I do not want it to be a stamped image of a web page. I want it to be original.

I walked around the corner the other day and saw two 9th grade students kissing. It did not register, for a while. I guess I was stunned that they did not care what they were doing. I had books in my hand. I had to help a student, and I just did not have the time to say anything. I thought, "Watch next time and say something." I did not have time right then. Plus, the bell rung and they were off like a flash.

There is a student here that it in the 10th grade. She writes. I let her read my vampire story and she said, "You sound like an emo." I laughed. That was so funny. I did not mind. I have been around young people for so long, I forget that I am not one of them, I think.

More later...the bell just did its thing.

This is the week that SleepyTown is released.

I have been waiting and waiting. I can hardly wait to have a copy in my hot little hands.

Here is the official message from my publisher.

I got this last Friday. "Sleepytown is officially through the system and will be officially out next week but you can order now."

YEA! I am so excited to have the book coming out.

If any of you readers are teachers, please drop me a message, and I will be more than happy to email you a booklet that I put together for teachers. It has teacher ideas to use with SleepyTown. You will love it and enjoy using many of them.

In the near future, there will be some "give-a-ways" concerning SleepyTown. There will also be coloring pages. Thank You for taking to time to read my blog. This is an exciting day.

Laterz. Randy