The Lake

IMG_3219Mornings are beautiful in San Luis, Costa Rica. This picture is from La Mission in Arenal. It is a great sunset looking from the outside dining area. As you can see, Costa Roca has it all; lots of green, great sunsets and sunrises, and in this part of the country great weather. I live in San Luis and have a great view of Lake Arenal. If you are a writer, you cannot help but be inspired. The air is fresh, people are kind, and great vegetable markets.

When I first arrived in Costa Rica, I had high blood pressure, a penchant towards Diabetes and a gloomy outlook in life and I took the plunge; I bought property and never looked back. No more worries about life, no Diabetes, or high blood pressure. Isn’t that what living is about? No stress, plenty of exercise, and something to look forward too-Living Pura Vida!

I have written eight books since dropping my feet on the Costa Rican rich black soil. My imagination is inspired by the people and the freshness in the air. Yes it rains a lot, but the temperature here is mild. It never gets colder than fifty-eight degrees or no hotter than ninety-one (only trice), it is usually below eighty-six degrees. Pura Vida! It has everything; inexpensive groceries and a healthy living. Cars and Gasoline are expensive; five to six dollars a gallon for gas and a car Twenty-five years old cost four thousand dollars.

Corina and I like  our cabin overlooking Lake Arenal. It is quiet, a comfortable place to live where you never hear of murder, or mass killings. My kind of comfort, Pura Vida!

Press the link below for my bookstores.  Thank you 🙏

The Place

Living

“Crying Inside
She held my hand tight
She knew something was not right
We continued our walk
I was not ready to talk

Money was tight
I was crying inside
I lost my job
I feel myself being robbed

My life is upside down
My house is foreclosure bound
Two years to pay off the contract
My house was the first one in the tract

The corporation closed its doors
After a bitter take over war
Lost my pension as it erupted
They did fine; they bankrupted

I am crying inside
My family and I will survive
Will the bank forgive my loan?
Can I save my home?

The government saved the banks
Who do I have to thank?
I am crying inside”

Excerpt From
Timothy M. Nugent: A Collection of Poems
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

Communication

This picture give me a sense of community, solidarity, and the idea of communication.

Monkey And Frog

She used her tokens in many ways
A brilliant idea on lonely days
She was creative in spicing our lives
she knew how to energize

She had a frog with spring loaded hands
which she would put on my night stand
in it’s hands was a love token
it said good for one hug

And a word need not be spoken
I would get into bed give her a gentle tug
I would give her a kiss and a gentle hug
in the morning when I was a sleep

She would get up and not make peep
Over to the vanity she would go
There was the monkey asking for a toll
In itʼs spring loaded hands was a token

Good for one kiss
No words were ever spoken
If you want a marriage to last
A simple monkey and frog is up for the task

Always freely give your kisses and hugs

Some people will say this is a corny Idea, but does it seem like A method was used to communicate? Communication is the art of expressing ones feelings and voice to another in order to enhance understanding. There was a time in our marriage, Marian and I were like islands far apart. Unable to communicate properly, working long hours, she had weekends off while I worked. Many nights I was home after she was in bed.

Too much work, too much parting after work took its toll on our marriage. I was the culprit and had to make changes in my life. Luckily Marian was an extraordinary Individual and changed my way of doing things. She was a proactive individual who saw through my loneliness ( I am sure she was lonely) and began to communicate with the use of those two stuff toys, the monkey and the frog. Soon my excesses slowed down as she asked for more of my time. Partying stopped, no more over drinking excuses like your asleep when I get home after work. I would come home at midnight and my wife would be asleep on our love seat. I would pick her up and take us to bed. Always she would say, “I love You”.

I would find sticky notes everywhere. In my car, on the refrigerator,(her favorite sticky note spot), in my underwear drawer, anywhere she would think I would look. Her skill to communicate in a positive fashion, kept our marriage alive. It made me want to be the same way. We began going out at night on her work days, on my days off; making sure I played golf without getting drunk. We began to enjoy our marriage of thirty-eight years.  Marian passed away at fifty-eight years old. My companion of forty-two years was gone. I thanked God for changing my attitude, or was it Marian who led the class?

If you love someone, you find away to have a better relationship. Pura Vida!

Press the link below for my bookstores:

 

Love

Relationship

Excerpt From
Odes to Life and Love
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

Is this the way of the world?

IMG_3904I believe a rainbow is one of the most beautiful, relaxing escapes of nature. After a heavy rainstorm I look forward to looking at a rainbow and feel disappointed when it does not appear. Lately it seems like the world needs a few extra rainbows. I am ready to chuck my Facebook pages and become a hermit. I cannot believe the promotion of negative politics, hate, racism, call to action to cause riots and wars. What have we become in our society today when an actress thinks she can cause havoc with our country? Do not people think for themselves or are they guided like the pied piper syndrome? Listen to my music and follow me to hell. How do those shows exist in our society that promote attacks on celebrities in an orchestrated attack to make money? Why did not the celebrity stand up and walk away instead of listening to that tirade? By the way the comedian looked ridiculously hateful.

What do you think? I am tired of excerpts being cut from interviews to bend a point of view. Do you feel the same as I do? What people do not understand is the power of kindness, understanding, and the ability to sift through all the BS. Do I have to spell it out? In order to eliminate hate, prejudice, and anger in the world, you cut the head off the snakes. Those who promote hate within their race are wrong! Period, do not give them a forum to speak. Cut off their beloved program, stop electing hate promoters who promise something for nothing and never deliver.

FB is a great media platform, but I am tired of people promoting negative  👎 stories. I hate politics, because it is a platform to promote negativity. Where are the Mr. Smith’s in Washington that promote a moral agenda? Those people who wish to help our country, not tear it down. When was the last time you saw a news program that showed a young black boy running into a burning apartment to save an elderly white woman who is trapped? A white man pulling an Asian man from a horrible car accident and giving him CPR and saving his life. No, news needs to show how people are murdered everyday in Las Vegas, Detroit Michigan, or New Orleans, Louisiana. Have we become that cullused and disingenuous in our nature that we do not like stories with rainbows?

*Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi/Quotes

Where there is love there is life.
Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.

The heart is the gateway to your soul. Open it with love and prosper. Press the link below for my bookstore:

* google

Love

Country

Fell from the Sky

Angel, you fell from the sky.
You felt my sorrow; you heard my cry.
You touched my shoulder, and I was not alone.
In time of death, the angel shows,

“Show the way through the light.
Show me to my husband’s flight.
Bring me to my family and friends.
Do not desert me at the end.

I led a good life, raised my family well.
Eighty-nine years is quite a spell:
Seen a world war and two police actions,
Saw polio vaccinations have a positive reaction,

Outlived my husband and three sisters,
Independence with no assistance.
Three daughters live close by,
Children I can rely.

Angel, you fell from the sky.
You felt my sorrow, heard my cry
You touched my shoulder, and I was not alone.
A little more time, I am not ready to go.
Thank you, angel.”

Excerpt From
Understanding
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

 

Travels

understanding

I like to travel, how about you? I look forward to seeing smiling faces and conversation about peoples exciting adventures, but alas, the human race tried to discourage my excitement about travel. Grouching woman, crying children crashed down on my parade. Never the less, I kept my cheerful 😀 attitude which seemed to anger people more. Go figure!

Starting in Liberia, Costa Rica and the ever happy security team. I believe no one dares to smile in front of Those grouches. Tired, exhausted 💤 travelers weary from continued nights Of revelry, snored away the rest of their vacations. Hence, silence in the midst of flight. Thank God for Words with friends, the WiFi driven word game of communication.

Houston was a major disappointment. They took grouchy to another level. Some people seemed to be put out when I tried to have a conversation. One  ☝️ woman escaped to the arms of her hubby, thinking I was a dirty old man. I had to laugh at her worried look on her face as she whispered into her husband’s ear. His menacing looks turned to a red face when I laughed at him and his demeanor. I can not help myself, being friendly is part of my retired persona. I like to talk, innocent banter from a boomer.

I sit alone writing my blog, wondering what happened to a cheerful America. Was it a fabulous holiday weekend that exhausted everyone? I flew back to the states for my brothers wedding. At sixty-one years of age, Steve has fallen, heads over heels  👠 For Toddy. Six months he refurbished his home for his love ❤️ ( he did an awesome job) and had the wedding at his house. Sixty friends and family converged on Steve’s home and we had a wonderful day; everyone was smiling and happy. It was a welcome change to see all the smiling, happy faces. It rolled over to my last few days, a great barbecue to end my visit.

Houston made a turnaround; Smiling stewards, stewardesses made my trip home to Costa Rica pleasant. Our plane developed an hydraulic leak on the wing, which I quickly let the crew know about. They hide their concern well as we landed in Houston, Texas. I await the arrival of my jet to Liberia as I close my blog. Lesson learned, not everyone enjoys vacations,( unpleasant thought) as I curb my enthusiasm. Enjoy life! Smile often and read a good book. Understanding has gotten good reviews and you may enjoy the read. Press the link below for my bookstore, Thank you.

Smile

Music

Listen to the music in nature,
The swishing of wheat in the pasture,
The wind blowing through the mountains,
The waterfalls fluid fountain.

The endless chimes of the whispering leaves,
The smell that grass brings,
The cymbals of river rocks,
The rhythm of the woodpecker’s knocks.

Mocking bird’s imitation,
All gives rise to our musical imagination.
I love to sit on a river,
Listening as nature delivers.

Excerpt From
Understanding
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

 

Living in Costa Rica

IMG_4192I love living in Costa Rica; I live in Aguacate in the middle of the rain forest. Lots and lots of rain, today it is raining ☔️ and I do not see it letting up. The picture is of our dogs, LuLu and LaLa, they are pretty obedient to our commands. Unlike many of the dogs in Aguacate who roam the roads like warlords demanding food because the owners do not feed them.

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny 😎 day; It was broken up by a pickup roaring up our dirt hill. A hill that is difficult to climb unless you have a four wheel truck which you still need a head start in the rain to make that climb. It is a neighbor with a regular pick up that is always charging the hill. Yesterday that truck claimed the life of a seven month old puppy 🐶 that roamed our yard. It was the neighbors dog, who would leave it alone to roam while they visit family. We began to give the dog treats, then food, because it was hungry. It was a cute little dog but was too hyper for our dogs or we would have asked to take the dog.

Like the other roamers in the neighborhood, Lee Lee (the nickname we gave the dog) darted out into the road to chase the truck and misjudged his path, Yelp! No thud from the truck, just gravel spitting out of the rear end tires. The driver continues his drive up the hill. He never stopped to see what he hit, or did he feel the puppy smashing under his tire? The driver did not walk back down to check on the dog, did not go to my neighbors house to explain the accident. What do you think? Was his actions cowardly indifference or silence because he did not hear the dog Yelp?

It is one of the things I dislike about Costa Rica; the indifference the people have towards their dogs.  If they get tired of the animal, they will drive miles away and leave the dogs on the side of the road. I have heard of Americans, unable or unwilling to take their dogs home to the USA; leaving them in the road. It angers me to know that Lee Lee is dead because the owner did not teach it to stay in the yard or build a small fence to keep it in. Is it a matter of Dollar and cents? It could be, it is a young family with three kids and they have a low monthly income. I built a wire fence to keep dogs out, but most importantly keep my dogs in the yard.

Soon Corina and I will move to San Luis; We have spent money 💰 on a chain link fence and concrete to keep our dogs safe. Our little dogs are our pets, our family, not guard dogs that roam neighborhood for food 🥘. How about you? Do you keep your dogs safe? Pura Vida! Press the link below for my bookstores, Thank you 😊

Dogs

Puppy

 

CHAPTER 10
Mustafa Mohammed Kassab

It is a beautiful day; crispy air, A good start for a Saturday brunch of fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and homemade croissants. Lucky is well enough to start running again and get back to his work. The group is at Pierre’s Cafe and are enjoying an early afternoon brunch. In front of Lucky is an investigation report given to him by Charles. A new figure in terrorism has appeared, Mustafa Mohammed Kassab. Mustafa stands six feet-three inches tall. He has long brown hair, brown eyes and a scar across his neck. An enemy attacked him while he was asleep; he killed his attacker before the attacker finished the job. It was an attempt to take over the cell. No one has ever heard of such an action before. A leader is picked by Isis to do a job, and everyone follows his lead. CIA is happy to see this dysfunction in a terrorist cell, but the service is a bit confused because they know the ruthlessness of Mustafa. He is big, powerful and demands loyalty or death. He is a perfect leader for Isis.
“I do not want to sound prejudiced, but he looks immaculate for a terrorist.” Says Jack.
“It says here he graduated from Harvard with a law degree in international affairs. Mustafa is clean shaven, intelligent and ruthless. He led an Isis group to five towns and massacred the people for not following Isis. He is going to be hard to find and stop.” Says Lucky.

Excerpt from- The Man With A Limp

T M Nugent-Author

 

Developing a Character

Take us to the bomb area Captain,” says Lucky.
“Has anyone looked at the videos Captain?” asked Jack.
“Yes, we see a young woman dressed in a hijab and an abaya, the
traditional dress of an Iraqi woman. She appears to be a black woman. She walks up to one of the tellers and seems to ask for the President of the bank. We see the cashier walk to the Presidents office. He leaves the office and walks to the glass partition to talk to the woman, and the bomb goes off. The woman disappears in the flash of the explosion, and the President is bounced over a desk and lands unconscious against the wall, twenty feet away from the blast area. The bullet proof wall saved his life; although he is in critical condition.”
“Can you see her trigger the bomb?” Jack ask.
“No, it is not visible from the view of the cameras,” says the Captain. The group arrives at the bomb Center, and Jazz cannot believe her
eyes. The devastation one person can make is overwhelming for her. She weeps seeing the body parts bagged on the bank floor. Human parts: brains, ears, legs, arms and hands; blood splattered on the ceiling, floor and walls mixed with dirt, plastic and metal. Jazz tells Jack she needs to step outside for some fresh air. Friends, relatives have raced to the bank to check on loved ones who work or use the bank. It has been a long day since the bombing, and the clean up is a slow process. Bagging and tagging to figure out what exactly happened at the bank. Jack walks out to check on Jazz,
“Are you, ok Honey?”

img_0001Hello 👋

How are my friends doing today? I would like some feedback on how my readers would like me to portray my main characters. Do the main characters need to be strong men or woman? Does it depend on the storyline, what the character evolves into? Can the hero show moments of weakness, sympathy, or can the person be cold and indifferent 😕?

As a writer of Police type adventure, I like to develop strong characters who show different emotions at different times. Joy, when their first child is born. Anger when his family is threaten. Bravery in time of crisis and an innate instinct for survival. In my book, The Man with a Limp, Lucky has the ability to work with people who is smarter than him. A computer person who solves problems Lucky cannot fathom an answer; he puts his trust in this person to find an answer.

An ex intelligence officer who becomes his best friend, who follows him through hell and back. A woman, beautiful, loving, as tough as Lucky is strong, and an FBI agent he meets during a case. Lucky falls in love and the agent and Lucky start a family. Sometimes Lucky is uncaring and ruthless in order to dispatch the most dangerous killers. Is this what you want in a hero? I am always open to new character development.

In my new book, The Chameleon Returns, Lucky McLaughlin continues to rescue people from evil criminals. He wishes to convict the killers legally; unlike his Father, who was more of an assassin to finish what the legal system would not conclude. Brooks McLaughlin would use any means at his disposal to finish the job. Brooks MacLaughlin was a genius in disguise, and frustrating to police and the FBI, because he left no evidence, no finger prints, shell casing, no skin fragments which the law enforcement could use against him.

Lucky worked at bringing law enforcement into each case and got to know the most important people in charge of each case. Lucky would ensure law enforcement is accredited for each solved case. He never asked for notoriety; He preferred to be on the sideline looking in. Is this the kind of hero you like to have an adventure with?

If you would like to read about Luck McLaughlin, click the link below:

Lucky

 

“Take us to the bomb area Captain,” says Lucky.
“Has anyone looked at the videos Captain?” asked Jack.
“Yes, we see a young woman dressed in a hijab and an abaya, the
traditional dress of an Iraqi woman. She appears to be a black woman. She walks up to one of the tellers and seems to ask for the President of the bank. We see the cashier walk to the Presidents office. He leaves the office and walks to the glass partition to talk to the woman, and the bomb goes off. The woman disappears in the flash of the explosion, and the President is bounced over a desk and lands unconscious against the wall, twenty feet away from the blast area. The bullet proof wall saved his life; although he is in critical condition.”
“Can you see her trigger the bomb?” Jack ask.
“No, it is not visible from the view of the cameras,” says the Captain. The group arrives at the bomb Center, and Jazz cannot believe her
eyes. The devastation one person can make is overwhelming for her. She weeps seeing the body parts bagged on the bank floor. Human parts: brains, ears, legs, arms and hands; blood splattered on the ceiling, floor and walls mixed with dirt, plastic and metal. Jazz tells Jack she needs to step outside for some fresh air. Friends, relatives have raced to the bank to check on loved ones who work or use the bank. It has been a long day since the bombing, and the clean up is a slow process. Bagging and tagging to figure out what exactly happened at the bank. Jack walks out to check on Jazz,
“Are you, ok Honey?”

 

 

Enjoy Life!

IMG_0957 (3)How do you enjoy life? Are you a type “A” personality that has everything you accomplish drawn out for you? Do you put your appointments, things to do, vacations, plotted on a calendar in order of importance?Is your family always last on this list of importance? At the end of the month do you look at this calendar and mark off your accomplishments?

You have been very successful, have a lot of money in the bank, but a depleted reservoir of family entitlements; such as love making, hugs, luv, your family feels left out, empty and you do not know who these strangers are. Do you feel lonely, depressed unable to understand how this situation occurred? Your children would rather be with the neighbor and his family. What must you do? You go to a therapist; she says to reconnect before your teenager starts to act up. Pay attention to your spouse before you lose her, the woman you love ❤️ You are befuddled and do not know where to begin and you decide to jump into the fire and reconnect.

Were you ever at that place of no return in your life? I certainly was, I lost friendships, seeked counciling, restored the love in my marriage, found new work and gave more time for my family. My behavior came at a cost and regrets, but I recovered from the personal damage I made. Too soon my wife died after forty-two years of companionship. Regrets in memory for not spending enough time with my wife; do not let this happen to you!

In my new relationship, We invest a lot of time in each other. Of course it helps to be retired, more relaxed and enjoying nature, our dogs 🐕 and my writing ✍️. I am satisfied I am able to walk and enjoy Costa Rica. I am having more fun living than I did as a rebel rouser in my drunken youth. Soon our property will be built and I will have two homes to travel back and forth; Thank you to my brother who shares a home with us in Las Vegas, Nevada. I am not a psychologist, only a friend showing you my mistakes and hope you enjoy a fruitful and happy life. Pura Vida!

Press the links below for my bookstores and enjoy your reading:

Litfire

“Lucky has several stabbings; one is the knife in his stomach and two on his sides. He has cut marks on his arms and hands. They look like defensive cuts, he is very lucky no major organs were hit; he lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stop the bleeding, It will be a day or so until we see how well Lucky is doing. He needs to rest now, It will be about an hour in recovery and into a room. My staff will let you know where Lucky will be.”
The Doctor turns and leaves to check on his patient.
Dawson arrives with Sean to let Jack and Jazz know what happened to Lucky and Carla;
“Apparently Carla was accosted in the garden by five men. Lucky saw the attack from the bedroom and ran out to stop them. Apparently, Lucky left the room without his gun and fought the men to get Carla free. We found two people dead on the garden patio. One other man was severely bleeding when he left the garden; You can see a trail of blood leading to the alley,”says Sean.

Xlibris

The Canejo Bees

“Little tikes who still ride little bikes
Came to play ball in their new spikes
Four foot nothing and eighty pounds
Play double headers; you would be proud

Win or lose they know how to play the game
They pound home plate and take aim
They stand like their hero’s bold and brave
If they lose they do not give blame
They are team and are not ashamed

They run the bases with all their hearts
They play to win: each do their part
They hook slide, head slide and belly flop”
When they are discouraged they look for Pop

The fathers encourage through out the game
Careful not to shame
They give them mighty cheer
When the kids are on the field
They go get a beer ( it is hot you know)

It is fun to watch the little tikes
To watch them reach greater heights
Only seven years old
They are dedicated souls
They wish to do themselves proud
And are happy family is around
This is what baseball is”

Excerpt From
Timothy M. Nugent: A Collection of Poems
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

Life; Memories Lost

IMG_3198Life is the hazy setting of the sun. Just like the sun disappears behind beautiful mountain landscapes so does memories. A home in Utah succumbs to old age and pipes burst. Left alone to the destruction of time and visited after a four months absence; the residue of destruction:sitting water, mold and mildew collapse the ceiling and it shows its ugly path of loss.

Fifty years of love and affection are gone; destroyed forever, those first love letters you sent your girlfriend at the age of seventeen. Those precious words you wrote in a note bestowing your love of your wife of forty-two years; gone in a flash to the basement of your mind. Your wife was a collector of memories, a sorceress Of sentimentality. Kept neatly away in an old chest, laying on the bedroom floor in front of our bed; School yearbooks of our high school years with passages neatly enscribed below pictures. A history of my sport years put in scrap books,meticulously recorded in scrapbooks made by my ingenious young girlfriend. Gone are the nights by the fireplace looking through our memorabilia reminiscing about our misspent youth.

A nineteen-thirty-eight Philco Floor Radio, my lovely wife found at a Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor is lost to water damage. She found it on a window display for sale for seventy -five dollars; it looked old, tarnished, the speaker was torn, the cover  ripped out of the front and the vacuum tubes were bad. My wife took it to our neighbor, a retired house painter who built miniature houses as a hobby. He replaced the old electrical parts with original vacuum tubes, wires, etc. and produced a beautiful radio with its original police radio design. Meticulously varnished, sanded and varnished again and made anew, refurbished nineteen-thirty-eight Philco floor radio  we kepted for forty odd years, gone in nature’s wrath.

I mourned the loss of my memories and decided to begin new memories and not worry about a loss of memories. Life must go on, to be enjoyed, not saddened on memories lost. My old collection of black vinyl is gone: A nineteen-sixty-four Beatles album with the singers autographs are lost, but I have their music on this I pad. I remember playing our record player for hours as I hugged my young wife of forty some odd years and I smile realizing what a great life we had together. Not all is lost, is it? Memories will always remain a constant pleasure. Pura Vida! Press the link below for my bookstore:

Memories

You
i never get tired of writing about you
remembering those beautiful baby blues
or your perfectly short cut hair
and your sparkling angry stare
when you gave me an indignant dare

or how you would laugh when i wiggled my ears
or how you cheered during my football years
how you showed patience during my tough times
your love was never hard to find
your love makes me strong
it gives me strength when things go wrong

i work at living up to your life
after all is said and done
you were my perfect wife
i was lucky you were the one

thank you for picking me.”

Excerpt From
Odes to Life and Love
Timothy M. Nugent
This material may be protected by copyright.

 

How do you write?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
LuLu &LaLa

Questioning eyes 👀 wish to know, how do you prepare your writing? Novels, short stories or poetry, what gets the mind rolling on ideas? Do you write an outline on your book idea and add chapters, lines , paragraphs? How do you get your writing juices moving in the right direction. Are your books based on your experiences or what happens on the evening news that prompts a Detective 🕵️‍♀️ story or a spy thriller.

My poetry never uses an outline and is stimulated by emotion. I wrote my first three poetry books around the life and death of my wife and the woman I met a year after my wife’s death. I rode my Harley around the country working at healing a broken heart 💔. I wrote a book of short stories which had a basis in my childhood. I would write an outline on some of the stories, but on many stories my mind flowed with ideas and exaggerations to make the stories come alive.

I have prepared four novels; I started my first Novel, The Man With A Limp, with an outline which I changed constantly. I wanted to humanize a harden Iraqi war hero and constantly changed my format. In some chapters I discarded the outline completely because I liked the flow of the story that was popping out of my imagination. On my second novel, The Chameleon, I did not use an outline except for the villains of the book. I flowed from my first book to this next chapter in Lucky McLaughlins life as the protagonist. I enjoyed writing about his friends and family as he searched out evil in the world. Charlie is my third Novel of Lucky McLaughlin and his family. Charlie is his athletic daughter who wishes to continue her aging Father’s work. I use the internet to help research stories and keep me from flowing to far off base, I was hoping to make the stories sound real life and credible. My last Novel I am writing is about Lucky McLaughlin’s Father. It is called Brooks Mc Laughlin, the creator of the Chameleon.

This story has a basic outline that is the villains in each chapter mixed in with the trama and exhilaration of everyday life. Much of my books fly by the outlines because I get distracted with the characters and I wish to expand on them. Does this happen to you in an effort to write a compelling story? Wikipedia has been a great source for my stories and u tube videos giving historic information to add to some stories. I do not spend hours on research; I grasp an Idea and flow with what I have learned.

How about you? How do you write your stories? I have Published my one Novel and will publish my second Novel in a couple months. Unfortunately, money has it’s restraints and the process for me is slow, but I enjoy writing ✍️. Pura Vida!

Writing

It is a cold winter morning in Santa Cruz, California. It is windy, rainy and no one is at the beach. A lone man, about twenty-four years old is walking with a six-foot bamboo walking stick. He is wearing a rain poncho, a rain hat, and rubber boots. He has thick long black hair down to his shoulders and a massive long black beard hanging down to the middle of his chest. He walks with a limp on the left side. His hand is curled up, and his left arm hangs down, appearing to be a useless appendage. He is smiling; it is obvious he likes to walk in the rain. With him, as he walks is a large German Shepard who has scars on its face and a large scar on his chest. I own a restaurant on the beach called “The Santa Cruz Experience.” It is an inexpensive diner with the usual Santa Cruz decor: surfboards and surfing pictures hang on the walls and a Harley Davidson motorcycle setting inside to the right, by the front door. I like to ride. My name is Jack.

 

Do you play words with friends?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERADo you play words with friends?  I use to play Scrabble with my wife quite often. We bought a travel scrabble game and we took it on every weekend getaway. We would sit at the Borg Hotel across from the Pacific Ocean on Ocean Avenue in Monterey  and play Scrabble after our walk on the walk and bike lanes that follows the shoreline. We would talk endlessly about everything while we played the word game. She always outscored me, but I enjoyed being with her and never felt stupid as I worked at beating her at the game. After all, she was an office manager who corrected the bosses correspondence.When she passed away in two thousand and eight I was an angry man. Angry at my failings and angry at not being able to enjoy a simple pleasure in life, playing Scrabble on the beach in Monterey with my wife. I was angry the Lord who took my precious soulmate away from me in the prime of her life. All my past transgressions seemed to haunt me and one day I had enough with my self pity and hit the road to travel the USA and write poetry. On this road of discovery, I rode to places my wife and I had never been and I felt her presence. I found myself talking to her as I rode; Brandon , Oregon, Lincoln, Oregon, Seattle Washington in a down pour of rain. The rain isn’t bad when you have the right gear, is it Honey? I began to think I was losing my faculties and I began to write poetry. It was as if she told me to go to a hotel in Seattle and begin.

On that trip I accidentally found Words With Friends. I was searching for a dictionary I could use on my I Pad and It popped up on my google search and I pushed it. I down loaded the game and became addicted to it. I like the game because you can converse to people as you play. You talk in text format,chat. That game brought back found memories and slowly washed away a great deal of guilt as I began to remember the great times with Marian, my wife and the great friends I have. Like the group in the picture who never left me when my wife passed away. Always inviting me for weekend rides. Never asking me why I am quiet at some particular moment. Always glad to see me and helped me through a difficult time.

I wish to thank my friends, Gary and Debbie Shannon, Sam and Melody Baugh, Steve Merys, and Kim and Kathy Steiner. We all keep in touch with each other even though I live in Costa Rica, following a dream. They helped me through a long grieving process that takes years to lessen the pain of loss. Words With Friends helped to bring me joy and peace into my life. I develop new friends and bring back Grand memories.

I write constantly, I do not worry if my writing is great, only that it is enjoyed. I will never be a Hemingway, Fitzgerald, or Poe; I hope to be enjoyed and make my readers think and hopefully help along the way to peacefulness. For me peace is a way of enjoying life, unencumbered with guilt, fear, or resentment. Life is too short, open your heart for it is the gateway to your soul. Pura Vida.

Take a chance! Read one of my books; the bookstore is the link below:

✌️ Peacehttp://www.xlibris.com/Bookstore/BookSearchResults.aspx?Search=timothy%20m%20nugent

Excerpt from, The Man With a Limp, coming out on December. My first novel, I hope

You will enjoy it, Thank you.

Lucky is a quiet man and does not speak about the war in Iraq; it was a terrible experience and he is working at forgetting his experience. Lucky enters the restaurant with Max. He goes to the counter and chooses an end sit and Max lays down beside him.

“Can I get you some coffee,? I ask.

“Hi Jack, a cup of coffee would be great.”

I turn around and get a cup of coffee, a menu, and hand it to Lucky.

“Thanks.”

He orders his usual breakfast,

“Joe’s Special’; garlic, hamburger, spinach mixed into scrambled eggs with Monterey Jack cheese over some spicy potatoes.”

Lucky is enjoying his breakfast;

“Youknow Jack, I love this breakfast. If I have bad breath, the garlic definitely mask it.”

Lucky laughs as I smile and thank him for coming in.

“Glad you enjoy the breakfast,” I say.

“Too early for the servers to come in Jack?”

“Yes, the next person comes in an hour,” I say.

I excuse myself and turn to talk to my cooks to plan our day. Fifteen minutes later I hear a ruckus. I see a transient laying on the ground and Lucky has his walking stick pressed on the man’s chest.

”Why did you kick my dog asshole?”

As Lucky pushes harder on his stick.

“He was growling at me!” The man bellows out.

“Of course, because you were acting menacingly towards me and he is taught to protect me at all times. If I let you up will you leave peacefully?”

“Yeah, let me up.”