Hello everyone. You may not have expected me back so soon. Yet here I am with another post for this decade. A lot has happened since the last post here, there is so much, that I’ll have to skip explaining and sum up.
Salem’s Sequel, Harvester of Tomorrow, is in its final revision,
I’ve been bogged down in various projects besides. Research for Tripwire
(sci-fi/aliens + prison thriller), The Assassin’s Box, a fantasy epic for
Dungeons and Dragons enthusiasts, its companion pieces (the Sunkissed
Thieves, Fall of the Day Star, and more), and what might be my most
important work since Salem’s and continuing along that path Daddy’s
Invisible Ouchy.
Yes, it sounds like a kid’s book, and it is. Really? How do
I tie Salem’s Son to a kid's book? Well, for one thing, I’m using a Nom de Plume,
so no juvenile readers or parents accidentally link my Rated R (or worse) fantasy
and horror works to DIO. God forbid they find this place.
Salem’s Son sets out to give a modern look at PTSD, a kind
of update to Rambo, with my own fun twists. But, at the center is a story about
the hurt of PTSD on the sufferer. It affects the lives of those around him, but
beyond leaving a kid without a father, it doesn’t go beyond awareness of PTSD.
DIO does that.
Daddy’s Invisible Ouchy starts on the path of healing,
with one precocious child’s attempt to understand PTSD (the invisible wound).
The child is assisted by her kind, patient mother’s articulate response to a Veteran
father afflicted with PTSD. Beth quickly takes the lead with her sidekick,
Kiwi, a stuffed animal that comes to life in her imagination, and Timmy and
Mango, her neighbor and best friend with his own stuffed companion.
When will this be available? We originally had a Nov 11
launch date in mind, but this being my first collaboration with a professional illustrator,
I’ve slowed the process down to get it right, not right now. I’ve also gone ahead
and published the text of the story, originally a kind of lyrical poem, in the 2024
Gettysburg Writers Brigade anthology found here https://a.co/d/jhGIfjr
and known as Heart’s of Valor, Voices of Courage. You can read the uncut
but specially arranged version beginning about page 178.
Our Editor, Ayleen, made a special effort to present the poem,
despite its submission after the deadline, and keeping with tradition I wanted
to share it here for my followers free of charge. Sure, it’s a shameless plug
and a tease hoping to get you to invest in the entire anthology. Why not? It’s
for charity.
Speaking of charity and DIOs purpose to start healing, I’m
looking for partners like the Hay House, Clay Foundation for Healthy Young
Minds, and others to possibly help get this distributed into the therapy,
self-esteem improvement space for kids and families affected by PTSD.
There are similar works out there, sure, but there are none
that go at PTSD so unflinchingly. The story has a rather unique origin that won’t
surprise my hard-core fans who had the chance to see the Ox and Scorpio before
I pulled it for 2nd edition treatment. Rather than bore you with
that, here is the text in its original form (first run at 3am no editing) for you. Thank you.
Mommy says dad isn’t well today. He
seems really mad, but mom says he’s not mad at me. Sometimes when he’s mad it
scares me.
Yesterday he was really sad and hid
from me. Mommy said he was crying but it wasn’t because of me. When he cries or
hides it worries me.
Why is he so sad or angry? Are you
sure it isn’t me?
No mom says, it’s like an invisible
ouchy he has that’s called PTSD.
Did he get it from me?
No mommy says. He got it in a war
fighting to protect good people in our country.
From what? I asked mommy.
From the angry boss of another
country that won’t be good like you and me.
Were they mad at you or me?
No mom says but men like daddy had
to go overseas to stop them from hurting people like you and me.
How did daddy fight them?
Daddy used his bravery.
What’s bravery?
It’s what made daddy climb high to
get Kiwi when those bullies took him and threw him up into our tree.
I would have been afraid to climb
that tree. Was daddy afraid to climb the tree to save my stuffy Kiwi?
Yes, but he did it anyway, that’s
bravery.
How can we help daddy with his
invisible ouchy PTSD that he got for his bravery?
What do we do for other brave
people that protect us? She asks me.
What do we do for bravery with ouchys
we can see like skinned knees?
Let’s ask the internet and see!
We find a picture of a man in a
suit giving a hurt man a medal. He’s in a wheelchair like my best friend Timmy.
Was that man hurt by bravery or
PTSD?
He got hurt fighting the bad men using
his bravery.
Oh. But I can see his ouchy, did it
get better?
Some ouchys don’t heal and it’s very
hard to fix an ouchy you can’t see like PTSD.
Did daddy get a medal too for his
PTSD?
No, they don’t give you one for the
invisible ouchy.
Maybe we can give daddy a medal and
he’ll know I love him for his bravery. I want to help him with the ouchy we
can’t fix, PTSD.
That’s a great idea said mommy.
Dad was sad again the next day, so
mom went to talk with him. I took Kiwi with me to get some help from Mango and
Timmy.
We found a good picture of the
medal I liked for bravery.
It had a big bright heart to say “I
love you” for your bravery that helps you protect mommy and me. It has a big
purple ribbon, my favorite color, so when he sees it, he’ll always think of me.
Timmy and Mango and Kiwi and me
find mommy to show her the medal we made for my Daddy. She smiles and runs to tell
him that he’s needed outside for a special ceremony.
I wait by the tree daddy climbed to
save Kiwi for me. Daddy smiles when he sees me and Timmy waiting under the tree!
Hi Beth, dad says, what do you have
there sweetie?
It’s a present for you, Sergeant
Daddy. It’s a medal for bravery that gave you your invisible ouchy PTSD.
I stuck it to his shirt with the
googly eye glue he tries to hide from me, then he cries and hugs me.
Is he sad again mommy? Is this
PTSD?
No honey, daddy is proud of you and
so very happy you want to say thanks for his bravery that gave him that stupid
ouchy PTSD.
Mommy hugs us both. Mango and Kiwi
and Timmy cheer. Timmy waves a little flag made from the paper we didn’t need
to make the medal for PTSD.
Timmy’s flag has a picture of my daddy
climbing the tree. It’s red, white and blue like the flag he wore in the
pictures in the living room. I looked funny, flying backwards there on his dusty
sleeve. I remember mom said that’s how the flag flies when it fights for me.
Daddy’s hug is soft, not mad, his
tears make him smile, not sad. He kisses my forehead, and he says to mommy
“Let’s get ice cream and forget dumb PTSD.” Now it can’t worry or scare me. If
it tries to, then I remember to use my bravery Daddy gave to me. I always
remember that he loves me.
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