“Hog Valley” vs. Moving

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It’s a tie, on several levels. Both projects have together drained me dry, where either project alone would merely have left me exhausted. As far as pure anxiety is concerned, “Hog Valley” wins with sleepless nights and nightmares of covers glued on upside down and interior text in Ukrainian or only half the pages have type in any language. I’ve just this afternoon seen the final proof for the cover. It is gorgeous. The final interior proof should be here in the next day or so.

But Moving has it over “Hog Valley” in physical strain, shortness of breath and just plain exhaustion.

All of us – my sister, her husband and yours truly, are now living in the new apartment in Orange Park, along with the furniture and all of the odd bits still in boxes or simply dropped in an empty spot. Which boxes are stacked in the middle of the rooms and along the walls. Meaning, of course, that you simply can’t get there from here. If you are stout of heart and willing to plot a very will he – nill he course (or no course at all) you can forge your way into the kitchen, but it is very unlikely you will ever be able to return to whatever civilization you left behind.

I was in the living room watching television yesterday afternoon, when I recalled a reference book I needed for “Twisted Key”. So I headed for the library room just behind the kitchen (I think that’s where it is, or at least was), looking for a particular box of books, and somehow wound up walking on Edgewater Drive in Orlando, carrying my dirty laundry bag. I turned around very quickly and found myself back in the apartment, this time in the laundry room, with the reference book in hand.

That was a very close call, I tell you. I didn’t have any change for the Laundromat.

Neither Richard nor myself have seen my sister in three days, though we can hear her cries. We can also hear the trumpeting and roaring of some large and hungry beast, hard on her trail.

Before you snort in derision, remember this is Florida, where anything is possible. In fact, in Florida, anything is very likely.

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About Gary Showalter

Gary Showalter was born in Honolulu, Hawaii. He lived in Aruba, Florida and the Panama Canal Zone before joining the U.S. Army during the 1960s. Following his discharge from the Army, Mr. Showalter picked cotton in East Texas, baled hay in Ardmore Oklahoma, sold light bulbs in Los Angeles, California, and built cattle pens in Fallon, Nevada (during a blizzard, of course). After settling in Atlanta, Georgia, Mr. Showalter worked as a professional gardener before turning his hand to furniture making. In 1981, he moved to Israel, married, and raised four children while working as a furniture maker, silversmith, goldsmith, and ornamental wood turner. He served in the Israel Defense Forces Reserves for sixteen years, and when not on active duty he worked in government and private security. He has also served in senior management positions in two software development companies in Israel. During his time in Israel, Mr. Showalter published articles dealing with international terror and the Israel-Arab conflict in the Jerusalem Post, Israel national News and several political science web sites. Mr. Showalter returned to the United States in the fall of 2003, to care for an elderly parent. He published his first novel, “The Big Bend”, in the fall of 2008. His second novel, “Hog Valley”, is now in print. Mr. Showalter's third novel, “Twisted Key”, was published in the fall of 2011, and his fourth novel, "Lonesome Cove" is now available in Kindle format and should be published in paper near the end of 2012. He currently lives in Deland, Fl, where he is co-authoring "A Silent Star" with Tony Attanasio. "A Silent Star" is the true tale (though novelized, with names changed for security reasons) about the 4-person covert action team sent into Yemen to capture Osama Bin laden immediately after the bombing of the USS Cole in the Aden harbor in Yemen in October of 2000.
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