Clinton, South Carolina, Sunday, October 18, 2020, 8:16 a.m. Monte Dutton I’m just stereotyping here when I say that everybody is going to die. It’s true, of course, but not right away. Not necessarily right way. Everybody’s got to be careful. But everybody’s mad. There I go stereotyping again. Anger may be worse than the …
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No 20/20 Vision in 2020
Monte Dutton Clinton, South Carolina, Sunday, October 4, 2020, 10:53 a.m. President Twitter is sick, roughly as much as the country. The TV stations are gobbling up the money of all the political candidates and brazenly running their ads back to back. The other fellow is a disgrace. You think I’m a disgrace, but that …
Kids Don’t Make Me Feel Young, but I Remember What It Was Like
Clinton, South Carolina, Wednesday, April 11, 2018, 9:59 a.m. The day was, in hindsight, just what I needed. I didn’t sleep well Monday night. I dreamed vividly. It was one of those long, drawn-out visions of frustration. I couldn’t shake it when I went to bed. It continued vividly through the night. Fortunately, Tuesday was …
Continue reading Kids Don’t Make Me Feel Young, but I Remember What It Was Like
Don’t Ask; I’m About to Tell
Clinton, South Carolina, Saturday, March 24, 2018, 4:46 p.m. Surprise, surprise. I awakened this morning to discover that a close friend’s edit of my next novel, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, had arrived via email. Last night I arrived home from a free-lance assignment to discover that my stock car racing novel, Lightning in a Bottle, …
This Too Will Pass … Or It Won’t
Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, October 26, 2017, 11:03 a.m. It was 100 degrees in Los Angeles for the first game of the World Series. The president is Donald Trump. A hurricane hit Ireland. Puerto Rico is still an American wasteland a month after Maria. I thought, oddly, about an old pop song. Take a letter, …
Sometimes I Feel All by Myself
Clinton, South Carolina, June 13, 2017, 2:46 p.m. Donald Trump has changed my life. To some extent, all presidents do. Normally, the sheriff has more to do with a person’s day-to-day life than the president, especially in a rural county, but President Trump has turned me inside-out. I’m not referring to Russians, health care, golf, …
A Cry for Help, or, at Least, Reading
I’m just about to dive into the 21st chapter of my next – and sixth – novel, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, which is a few paragraphs shy of 50,000 words in its first draft. Italics will be added when it’s published. But first! A warm-up. La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lah! Get the old digits cranking like pistons! My urgency …
Rudderless in a Rainstorm …
... Or, How I Cross-Blogged for Kindle Scout For the first time, here at wellpilgrim.wordpress.com, the following words aren’t mine. This is a guest blog from a fellow author, and I hope you can muster some eleventh-hour support for his KindleScout campaign. -- MD By Steve Vernon I contacted Kindle Scout winning author Monte Dutton …
The Big Mistake
Beuerlein was an upscale town of about three thousand, perched on the New Jersey Shore. Unlike many such towns, Beuerlein's residents mostly lived there year around, and most who didn't were writers, artists, and craftsmen, and craftswomen, of other ilks. Lots of intelligent, good-natured people lived there, and most didn't get too out of shape …
Contemplating the Ripples
I had time to kill. I had driven over to the college town early that morning and spoken to several classes. I make so few “days of it,” and a freshman outfielder in one of the classes had invited me to come see the team play. I said, “Hey, I’d like to do that,” when …
Nightrider's Lament 