A Story Laying Bare More Than the Lack of Clothing Could Ever Reveal

Before I get into today’s post, I want to make one observation. As of the moment I find myself writing these words, I have 666 comments. Does this mean that my blog site now has come to the attention of the master of lies, the serpent who persuaded Eve and Adam to cover up their nakedness? If so, I am sure he is royally pissed off that I am not living up to the lie of nudity as perversion. [I hope this gets at least one chuckle along the way.]

Today is Saturday, the 29th day of February, a leap year. It is raining, a gentle rain to be sure, but it is wet none-the-less. Lightning and thunder have been our light and sound show since early yesterday evening. It isn’t what one could begin to say is pleasant beach weather. Since we have been walking ten kilometres, day after day, for quite some time, this is a pleasant diversion which allows me some extra time for writing and editing.

I have just finished the revised edition for the first book of my memoirs. A new cover and ISBN have been uploaded to Amazon in preparation for being republished. Naturally, the old edition has been unpublished. It will be a few days before I advertise the new edition. The book is significantly different with the presentation of the story though the contents remain the same. If anything, the book is more honest in being told from a first person point of view with real names for all of the characters included in telling my story. There is no question that the retelling reveals more than simply removing clothing ever tells about a person.

I am now turning to the second book in the series. Again, there is to be a major shift from the third person to the first person. The original reads like a novel, not an autobiographical work. Since the original was based on “my” journey that is similar to the song by Rascal Flatts, Bless the Broken Road, I am keeping the original title and giving credit to the title where it is due. The story of this second book is about love lost, a broken hearts, and finally arriving at the place and time I was supposed to go to meet the woman I didn’t know I was looking for, my Magical Other. The story is archetypal as well as being an honest recounting of my personal experience. It is a story that could be told of many others who have found themselves on the broken road.