My wife told me to?  Ahh, wait.  It’s not like I’m a ‘yes’ guy . . . well, most of the time for her, but that’s only because I love and respect her so much.  Besides, I’m an author and all those ‘how to’ books on promoting repetitively say to blog.  If you aren’t an aspiring writer/author that has researched publication, then you don’t realize that all those recipe writing books, the free on line or the expensive, they all tell you much the same thing, but they do sound knowledgeable.

Hmm, I should sound knowledgeable if I want to gain attention.  If I gain your attention, you might become interested.  And then . . . Oh what the heck.  I want you to buy my novels!  There, let’s get that out of the way so I/we can have  some fun.  So here:  I’m author of The Faithwalker Series.  Book 1 Call of the Tree, 2 The Sacrificial Wood, 3 The Dead Forest, 4 Succession.  They are contemporary fantasy that’s real.  Done.

My website, according to the directions on how to create a blog, is supposed to appear here somewhere.  Just in case, it’s linked here :  The Faithwalker Series.

Contemporary fantasy that’s real!   That’s gotta be worth a blog or three at least.

Yes, my wife wants me to blog.  At a half century plus four — my age — and having been married sixteen months, I find myself feeling very much like a teenager!  No, I never really went through a mid life crisis (oh, that’s worth a blog I think)  I’m not suffering from regression either.  My exuberance, joy, general emotional state just feels teen-like.

No, I deny a less than mature state.  Besides, I have quite a few young friends who frankly have outshined their parents in the maturity department, and that is surely worth blogging.  It’s just that I feel so full of energy, of joy, of wonder for life.

But when she’s gone (as she is now to help her sister with the new baby) I kinda whine and moan and groan and my co-worker at the hospital told me I sound like a teenager!  He said grown men don’t act that way.  Well, he’s Russian so . . .

I met my wife on and she lived in Jersey City which is really New York City who separates THEM by a tunnel.  Just a tunnel.  And for our first date I drove ten hours to see her because I have been stuck out here in that politically pivotal state of Ohio.  Yes, everyone knows Ohio during elections.

I knew when I first met her that she was special, but I wanted her to realize how special I am.  Actually, she confided in me the same.  So I gave her my first novel, knowing surely if she read it she’d love me dearly, end of story, ahh, that doesn’t sound right.

Anyway, I never wanted a ‘yes’ woman.  I wanted an independent individual with the strength and courage out of her own merits to love me.  I didn’t realize that meant she wouldn’t read my book!  Later, she said that was because she didn’t just want to fall in love with an author.  And so after a week I went back to Ohio and waited for her to respond to my gallant efforts.  And I waited.  And she waited.  Hmm, I think she turned me into a teen earlier that I suspected!

Finally she moved to Washington DC and I said to myself, well, that’s close enough, only seven hours away and out I went to see her again.  This time she decided to open up to me and told me her life.  I fell deeply in love right there in our nation’s capital.  Something good I can say about DC.  When I asked her why she finally decided to open up, what do you think she said?  She finally read Call of the Tree and became convinced she could trust me!  From my FICTION novel!

The other day we were in the grocery store and after some secret time away in an aisle she comes back with a box of hair color.  I pleaded, “Dear, you don’t need that.  I love your hair.  It’s beautiful.”

Deaf ears.  Why do wives often have deaf ears to their husbands on such things. I know this for a fact ’cause I ask around.  Standing in line behind Lana, my wife, was a young lady and I looked helplessly at her and said, “Help!”

Well, she was curious and nice enough to ask what.  “My wife says she has gray hair and needs to color it.”

She looks at my wife, does the female inspection thing and says, “Honey, YOU don’t need that!  Your hair is gorgeous.  You don’t have gray hair.”  She turns around to the young man with her, grabs his arm, and says, “He does!”

And sure enough, her young man did in fact have gray hair!  Not that I don’t, mind you, but I wear it proudly.  Lana looks at the box of coloring in her hand, for the nearest place to leave it, end of story almost.

I said, “Dear, I’ve been telling you that you don’t need that stuff for a while and you never believe me.  But that young lady, a stranger, in two minutes time convinced you.  What’s up with that?”

She gave me that smile of nothing unusual and confessed, “That’s just the way it is dear.”

So I end this introductory blog still feeling like a teen, mystified by my true love, but enjoying so much of my married life.  Notice, I said, ‘so much’.  I don’t want to risk sounding crazy on my first blog that my wife said I should write.

God I love that woman.

In future blogs look forward to more humor, more depth, and thought-provoking scenarios.

Darryl Markowitz — half century and four teen.