StanleyWheeler

Melun: Fly, noble English; you are bought and sold.
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion
And welcome home again discarded faith.
Seek out King John and fall before his feet,
For if the French be lords of this loud day,
He means to recompense the pains you take
By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn,
And I with him, and many more with me,
Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury,
Even on that altar where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.

(King John, Act 5, Scene 4)

I present the above as the inspiration for the possible title of the new novel. The title I'm currently contemplating is: Threading the Rude Eye (Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Book 1). Having written the book and nearly completed the preliminary editing before sending it to a more seasoned eye for proofing, I thought it would be nice if the book had a title. Many books have titles; I understand titles are useful in helping a book to stand out from the others and in aiding potential readers to identify a specific book. I think my proposed title is better than say, That One Book By Wheeler in the Series with Dragons, Gryphons, Magic, and The Revolutionary War. I could be wrong but I don't think that last idea is as catchy. Besides, the mention of dragons and gryphons is enough stop most people from even looking at the book; if the dragons and gryphons aren't enough to turn people away, the Revolutionary War angle is sure to do the trick. Is there anything more I could do to keep potential readers from even considering this book? Indeed, I am some kind of genius.

***

Death at last accepted Cecil's invitation. He had waited many years for the scythe to enter him into the ranks of the harvest. He would've said that it had taken much too long. He was in his 90s. His wife had passed away before I met him some ten years ago. His good friend Jim with whom he had spent most of his time passed away about four years ago. Although he had many friends, one could tell that he wore a hole in his heart the size of his lost wife through which a lonely breeze would constantly whistle. Cecil continued to attend church functions, including service projects, for as long as he was able. He was a man upon whom one could count. If only two people showed up to help pick apples or move someone into a new place, one of them would be Cecil; he would be the happier of the two. On some of my last visits with him during the summer when he still lived in the mobile home, he kept the thermostat set at 90 degrees, which was about the same as or slightly cooler than the outdoor temperature. I'm confident that the lonely breeze no longer whistles and the temperature is always comfortable for Cecil now.

***

In addition to writing, editing, and digging a trench* (I don't want to talk about the trench), I also got these 6 woodland Indians assembled, mounted on bases and primed. I'm unreasonably proud of the bases. The particularly observant might note that those bases are actually the lids from water bottles--which are much cheaper (free) than the standard 25 mm gaming bases and they're nearly the same size. I'm sure that I'll eventually discover a reason why it's not a good idea to use water bottle lids for bases but until then: I'm winning!

*The writing and editing did not apply to the trench but to the new novel. Perhaps the Oxford comma was sufficient to convey the idea but fastidiousness is next to or perhaps situated well within obnoxiousness, and a bit condescending; it's a win-win.