Hunting
A Game of Chess
White Pawn to d4. Black Pawn to d5. White Knight to c3...
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I was hunting one day when I, most likely sitting high up in a treestand without having seen a deer all morning, compared the hunting of deer to a game of Chess...and so it really is in some regards. The deer being the King of course, and the goal is harvest the deer in the end, which in my mind was the equivalent to Checkmate.
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With this concept running through my mind, I decided that it was fitting of a fictional story of a man and a deer, each trying to outsmart each other in the beauty of the fall woods. It is, a game of Chess...
From Father to Son
A dad who loves hunting. A son who loves fishing. A legacy to be passed on that the son is too young to understand. Will they compliment each other or will they clash?
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Based on a true story of a father's desire to pass down a heritage to a young son and the struggles and hurt it sometimes represents.
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Moments in hunting that will last a lifetime...but will it continue to transcend generations?
The Sun Also Sets
This is an amazing tale set in the wilds of Africa. It is the story of H. H. Roosevelt, a personal hunter and burned out by the day- to-day pernicious clients that he has to deal with. They come for blood and trophies, not for the experience known as Africa. Just going through the motions in scouting game for upcoming clients, Roosevelt, as he likes to be known, stumbles upon an unbelievable track...following this track not only leads to a rare discovery, but it also becomes a path of destiny for Roosevelt. Through a series of life-changing events, Roosevelt will overcome and persevere...but will he in the end allow himself to be changed? By the close of his story, you will either loathe him, or hate him, love him or like him...or maybe just tolerate him. However, in the end, you will still be rethinking this poignant conclusion for a time to come.
The Weasels of Wind Hollow
When I was in my late teens, I went with my parents to look over a 40 acre parcel of land my Dad was thinking about buying. For the most part, the parcel was a flat field with some scattered trees, a very nice piece of property. As I explored it's boundaries, on the far back edge it dropped down into a hollow that was bordered by a creek and an abandoned railroad track. As the wind blew through this place, I instantly called it 'Wind Hollow' and I fictionalized two weasels living their lives there, from birth until death...and thus some 35 years ago, the title of this book was formed. My parents did not end up buying the property, but forever since then I have thought about those two weasels that might have lived there, and how their lives would have transpired had we bought the property.