I am a full-time author and ghostwriter, and have crafted a truly epic fantasy novel that will take you to the ends of a world of magic, alien vistas, and ultimate evil. My Master’s Degree in Physics often plays well in my creation of other worlds. I am the author of both the Maldene series and my Inspector Flaatphut series, as well as others yet to be seen. “Maldene” is the first novel in in a 13-novel series, though currently this first novel is divided up into two volumes– something about people saying that no one is going to buy a 330,000 word book from an unknown. It’s a story that travels a vast world, then reaches out across the stars, through dimensions, and across time. It is a story that, while truly of an unfathomable epic scale, is rooted in the strong and detailed personalities of its characters. It is a world as richly detailed as is your own Earth. I was plotting out the Maldene series, making notes of the world in general, working out the plot in my head, and so forth, for about 15 years before I started writing it in 1996. From maps and notes on the society, to an alphabet, dictionary, and even the zodiac signs. But while I found the writing of it to be pretty easy (and fun ) for me, it was not written under the most idea of circumstances. My Dad got Parkinson's Disease when I was in High School, so by the time I was midway to my masters in Physics I was already well into helping my Mom out with him full time. My Dad slowly dying day by day, his disease sucking up money and hope, my own attempts at job hunting running afoul of the economy and the "need experience in order to get experience"– and that's even IF I'd have time enough away from helping with my Dad for a full-time job in the first place; things were really bad. Depressing enough for my Mom to let things pile up into a pack-rat style hoarding pile in three rooms while not letting me clean it all up (she "knew where everything was"). Then the fire happened. The Eaton Canyon Fire of 1994 burned down my Grandpa's old house; he'd been long dead and my Mom never had the heart to sell it. My duties then extended to assisting her in the clean up, paper work, etc., then when the insurance money came in and made things easier, I realized it provided me with the time and security to try and write a story I'd been working on in my head for about the previous 15 years. I could write my stories while staying home and looking after my Dad, giving my mom the chance to take a break, run her own errands, that sort of thing. So I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. It changed the home atmosphere completely. My Dad switched from "when are you going to find a job" to "when are you going to get published," a fact which I found enormously amusing. My Mom began peeking over my shoulder to see what I was writing, my Dad showed my manuscript to my Uncle, and a bit of hope and joy came back into the house. By the time my Dad had passed away, while I had completed 6 books of the series, I had yet to find an agent or publisher (well, there were 1 or 2 "agents" but the less said...). So I kept writing. After my Dad had passed I continued to look after my Mom, knowing the danger of surviving spouses lasting only 5 years on average. Seeing me write kept her in good humor, and my friends that had begun reading my manuscripts started to tell me now impressed they were as well (and I have some very critical friends). It was at this point that my Mom told me that at one time long before I was born, my Dad wanted to be a writer! He sold furniture to support us when I came around, but his youthful desires suddenly put things in perspective. Well, my fantasy series, Maldene, came out at 13 books, so then I started on some other stuff for another 5 books, as well as the other stories I wrote between the big stuff. I was still unable to find a reliable agent when my mom got deathly sick. She was in the hospital for 3 months, which while that allowed me to finally clean up the house and give her back a home, I had to nurse her back to health, change her diapers, and teach her how to walk again. Somewhere in there a publisher I'd directly submitted to accepted me (Publish America- yeah, big mistake that). It was exciting, this period before later reality set in. My Mom was all smiles, and when the first copies came to me, I'd managed to get some help arranging an author event at a local library. Just six people, me reading a couple of chapters, talking about my book, but best of all my Mom sitting right there witnessing it. I'd gotten her back up to walking on her own with a cane, and despite her claustrophobia and dislike of being packed in close to other people, she showed up to see me do this. In the end it turned out that I'd chosen a wrong publisher, but I would not have given up my Mom seeing me talking in front of people about my book for anything. My Mom passed away three months later. That was in 2008, and after that I became embroiled in a 6-year Probate fight that really knocked the wind out of me. I ended up dumping Publish America in favor of my own small label, but the financial quagmire that probate begat made it impossible for me to really do anything. I started ghostwriting to keep afloat. But now that’s all past. Probate ended, my finances are a little bit better, and now I’m back in the game once again, here to chew gum and promote my book… and I’m all outta gum.