In the waning days of World War II, a man lies injured in a London hospital, shrouded in mystery and confusion. He is an American serviceman, stripped of his identity and memories, save for the name John, and plagued by vivid visions of battles that
I wrote my first novel at age 66. After reading so many crime dramas I realized it was time to write one.
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To have my first novel published was one of the nicest surprises of my life. After teaching for 41 years, I finally had the time and the determination. I have for most of my life had a creative bent that had to be satisfied in one way or another. I have done most of the finish work on four of our houses, consider myself something of an artist, having sold several oils and watercolors. I have also designed, built and sold many pieces of furntiture. In addition to this, I have also written many poems and had a couple published.
A couple of things that have made writing a particular joy for me: First, when I sit down to write, I'm never quite sure where the story is going to take me. It has always been like reading a good novel and being anxious to get back to it so as to find out what happens next. Secondly, my main characters, because I can't help but live with them everyday, become like friends or like people I'd really like to know. It just a very enjoyable experience, and now with the start of my third novel with a new protagonist I have found a new friend. Am I odd? Is there anyone out there who feels the same?