2016 is in the archives. Frankly, I’m happy to see it go. Not that it didn’t have its high points.
My first novel was published in March, Dark Moon Rising. My second novel, The Battle of Broken Moon, was released in December. I can’t start to describe the rush that accompanies seeing your words in print! This, of course, is followed by the deep concern that readers will like what they read.
The series, “The Unborn Galaxy,” is made up of five separate stories, all taking place within the “Unborn Galaxy.” Two are published, the publisher has the third, the fourth was edited this past summer and I just got the fifth back from my editor.
Additionally, in the wings, is a separate story, a medieval adventure filled with mythical creatures, a beauteous young damsel as quick with her sword as she is with her wit. An elder knight who bears a great burden, and a malevolence to vile for even the most hated of mythical monsters. This story I call ― “The Witch of Vindemiatrix.”
Another point of celebration; this past December 21st of 2016 saw the one year anniversary of my wife’s survival after her heart attack. Additionally, her cardiologist has given her a clean bill of health. Nevertheless, she will remain a heart patient for the rest of her life.
The event took place inside the VA hospital, where my wife took me for an examination. If you’re going to have a heart attack, have it in a hospital.
As a result, my family missed its traditional Christmas celebration in 2015. We made up for it Christmas of 16, however.
I have learned a lot about heart disease in general, and in women specifically. It is often called the silent killer of women, because, unlike in men where a sudden pain in the chest, arm and or leg signals the onset, in women it is far subtler.
And women suffer a disproportional number of heart attacks.
Ladies, if you’ve not been examined I cannot encourage, cajole, or warn you enough. There is no typical target for the disease. Young, old, tall, short, smoker, non-smoker, lite, or heavy. My dear wife was the picture of health. Where I was taking a bevy of meds supplied by the VA, my wife took none. She had regular checkups, exercised, ate right, she was the archetype of what our doctors want us to be. Yet, on 21 December 2015 she was laid low by a near microscopic tear in the interior lining of a blood vessel on her heart, smaller than a strand of spaghetti.
This past Thanksgiving, and Christmas, we certainly thanked God for his blessings, and have been doing so every day since that dark date.
So, please, see your doctors, have your risk assessed, and your ticker scrutinized.
None can cheat death, but you can increase the distance from him―and it is not difficult at all.
So, as we enter a new year, let me wish you all a happy, prosperous, and healthy New Year. A year that can be made much more adventurous within the pages of Dark Moon Rising, and The Battle of Broken Moon.
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