Category: Uncategorized

Delayed But Not Forgotten

It’s probably due to my financial background but I’m a notorious planner.  I plan everything.  Does that mean my plans always work–NO! 

Santa Fe Mojo is very close to done.  My plan was to have a pre-order option up by now–hasn’t worked out; for lots of reasons, some on me and some due to others. 

Now, due to the delay, I believe I will go straight to publication.  That should be within the next few weeks–definitely before the end of May.

Below is the first draft of a cover.  Have any particular likes or dislikes, let me know.  This is the first draft and changes are already being made–but thought it might be interesting to see the original draft.

And then you can compare it to what it actually ends up being.  Cover designs are important because the first impression is key to people buying on-line.  For on-line sales reviews are the most important and next is probably the cover.

Update on second Vincent Malone Novel.   99% finished with the writing of Blue Flower Red Thorns.  Next steps are several editing phases and then preparing for publication.  Probably pointless to estimate a target date based on my track record but it should be within three months of SFM and hopefully can have a pre-order option on Amazon sometime in July.

Will have a preview of BFRT in the back of SFM.

Conclusion of Christmas Tradition

Below is the conclusion of the short story A Christmas Tradition.  Hope you enjoyed this little trip down memory lane.

As part of a project I was working on regarding some marketing efforts, I was required to look at the main protagonist in each of my books.  All of these books have supporting characters who are a vital part of the story and in some cases readers have pointed out that they actually were more interesting than the main person.  But just looking at the main character was an interesting exercise.

The Bootlegger’s Legacy.  Joe Meadows.  Married CPA with two kids, age 44.  Unhappy marriage.  Drinks too much.  Always fighting money problems.  Generally not very happy with life but destined to plod along and not to do anything about it.  Of course all of that changes in the book.

Dog Gone Lies and Sky High Stakes.  Ray Pacheco.  Widowed, in his sixties, one grown son he never sees.  Now many people might say that the most interesting characters are Tyee Chino and Big Jack–and no doubt they are the most interesting; but it is Ray who makes the books believable and endearing.  A good person meeting new challenges late in life.

Murder So Wrong and Murder So Strange.  Tommy Jacks.  Young, early twenties, idealistic reporter with huge family baggage.  Insecure and uncertain about new relationships.  We explore the murder mysteries with Tommy but also witness his growth into a more complete human being.

Santa Fe Mojo and Blue Flower Red Thorns.  Vincent Malone.  Mid-sixties, broken man with long history of cynical attitude about life and people.  Drinks too much.  Poor health.  Sense of humor that he most often hides.  Smart, tough and alone–by choice.  Finds new beginnings in Santa Fe but only by accident.

Some observations.  They are all men.  Diverse ages and occupations.  All in the middle of major life changes.  Couple of drinkers.  This is a little subjective but they are all good people who are flawed, some more than others.  Have any thoughts on these characters let me know.

A Christmas Tradition

Part Four of Four

Donny’s house was next.  Donny was a year or maybe a year and half older than the rest of us.  He was tougher, meaner and usually very sad.  Donny’s dad seemed mostly to drink and yell.  Donny had told his pals that his dad drank gin.  Nobody knew what gin was but it didn’t sound good and on occasion when his dad tried to talk to someone, it was obvious it didn’t smell good either.   His dad didn’t seem to have a regular job but would be gone for long periods of time doing something.  When his dad was gone his house was much happier; but then his dad would return.  His dad told everyone who would listen how horrible it was the bootlegger was arrested, by his own account one of the best people in the whole damn state.  We all knew he wasn’t supposed to say damn but didn’t have the courage to tell him.
Donny had a sister, Betty.  Betty was in high school and was a cheerleader.  Betty was the most beautiful person who lived on our street, she also had no modesty.  All of the houses in the neighborhood had one bathroom, this was a major problem for Betty.  Betty needed her own bathroom or maybe two.  She was always dressing and “getting herself ready,” whatever that really meant. This mysterious process seemed to involve her running around the house looking for some key aspect of being “ready” while dressed in her bra and slip.  It didn’t seem to matter who was in the house her needs were paramount over any other considerations.  Donny’s little boy friends sat around the tiny living room with their mouths agape and their eyes wide open.
Donny’s family seemed to have lots of money based mostly on the abundance of food.  We didn’t know but also suspected gin wasn’t cheap.  Christmas was a confusing place at Donny’s house.  They didn’t have a tree but they did have presents.  They weren’t church going people but they wished everyone a Merry Christmas.  Donny had participated in past gift ratings but each year he became meaner.  Bill had even told me that he was afraid of Donny and didn’t want to be around him anymore.  Donny’s anger at everyone seemed to come and go with the departure and return of his dad.  Even though Betty was an attraction for his buddies, Donny preferred to stay outside.  He would play basketball from morning to late night on most summer days.
 
As I approached Donny I could see he was in a bad mood.  “Nothin’ this year you little creep.”  It looked like Donny had been crying.  I asked him if he wanted to play a game of horse, he told me to get lost.  I left.
Now it was my turn.  I knew I had gotten some great gifts but nothing was going to beat Ernie.  The look on his face when he showed me that slide-rule said it all—he was the winner in more ways than just the kid’s gift rating game.  I gave myself a twenty-five and conceded defeat to the smiling Ernie.
As I walked into my warm, cozy home I knew the gift game was history.  Something had changed; maybe it was just everybody getting older or maybe it was everybody getting wiser.  In years past each one would have joined me to go to the next.  By the time we reached my house the whole group would be together and we would be laughing.  Today nobody was really that interested, except, I guess, me.  
Bill had to stay home and watch Timmy play with his Christmas stash, Ernie couldn’t take the slide-rule outside and he didn’t want to leave it, just yet.  Bobby said his mother told him he couldn’t cross Key any more without an adult, there had been a scare a couple of days ago with a kid almost hit on his bike.  Johnny was grounded for two weeks because he had fixed himself French toast while his mom was out shopping and almost burned the house down.  Donny was angry at everyone and seemed dangerous and no longer wanted any of the creeps around his house.
Kid’s games by their nature stop at some point. You stop being a kid.  I never won the kid’s Christmas gift rating game.  It had usually been Bill, no doubt because we trusted him to allocate his huge load of gifts between the two celebration days.  Donny had won once, back when he was friendlier, when he got a complete football uniform, with shoulder pads and a helmet.  He was happy that day.  Ernie of course got the prize with his beloved slide-rule, even though none of us really knew what it did.  Bobby didn’t win but often came in second.  Johnny had been close one year with a pogo-stick but lost to Bill and his new bike.  
Now I can see it wasn’t the winning, it was that we all got together and laughed.  It was fun to be together and talk about the gifts and argue about the scores.  It was a tradition.  A Christmas tradition.  I will miss that.

The End

Good Idea or Bad?

In The Bootlegger’s Legacy there was a prologue that detailed what happened to the main characters after the book concluded.  I always liked this in movies and thought it was especially appropriate for the TBL.  Many reviewers have commented on this addition as a aspect of the book they also liked.  I’m going to include a similar wrap-up in the first Vincent Malone book Santa Fe Mojo which should be available for preorder on Amazon in the first part of May.

Buy on Amazon

(Little side-note TBL has just reached 156 reviews on Amazon with an average of 4.2 stars out of 5.  Thank you readers and reviewers.)

SFM is one book in a series unlike TBL.  But it still made sense to me to include information about what happened to the principle characters–not so much the on-going ones but this particular book specific ones.  Some of the people who’s advice I respect said I shouldn’t do that, matter of fact they said the prologue in TBL was not needed.  As you can see on some occasions, okay quite a few, I ignore advice.  I know some books should not continue on past the end.  But I can’t help it, I like knowing what happened to the people in the book I have just gotten to know.  What do you think?

A Christmas Tradition

Part Three of Four

What was I going to say to Bobby?  Don’t even show me your gifts– you’ve lost.  Wow, life was tough.  Bobby lived on Northrup but he lived across Key Boulevard, a major two lane street than ran right through the heart of the little city.  My parents had never forbid me going across Key, but many kids on my street couldn’t.  “Too much traffic”, was the most often mentioned parent reason.  As far as I knew the people weren’t different on that side, although it was a possibility.  
Bobby was all about sports.  He had no interest in anything else.  So naturally his also ‘only interested in sports’ parents bought him sports gifts.  These, of course, had great value in kids scoring.  But Bobby was hard to deal with, he was ultra-competitive.  If I assigned an eight to a new football, Bobby would insist it was an eleven.  If I said eleven he would demand a fifteen.  Unless he won he wouldn’t agree on any number.  Since I have dealt with Bobby before, I knew what to do.  
This year he received a new basketball.  I told him it was an eight, he insisted it was a ten.  I really thought it could be a fifteen but he won at ten.  We bargained away for some time with him winning every battle.  He was all smiles; he was the victor.  His grand total was thirty-two; but he was ecstatic that he had bested me in every negotiation.  None of us played sports games with Bobby, one reason was that he was much better than we were; but mostly it was just not much fun.
Once I was back across Key Boulevard I felt more relaxed.  It was only thirty feet of pavement but it was a real barrier, at least in my head.  Johnny’s house was next.  His mom was a school teacher and she yelled a lot.  Most of her yelling was directed at her husband who always seemed to be leaving.  Sometime later, when we were in Junior High, he left one morning and never returned. 

Johnny was the class clown.  He lived for only one thing –to make you laugh.  His biggest problem was that he wasn’t very funny.  We used to walk down Key to a small shopping center and buy things at the drug store or just gawk at things in the hobby store.  There were times in the summer we would make that journey every day.  On each trip we would pass a dry cleaner shop that had a woman sitting at a desk facing out to the sidewalk.  She apparently was the bookkeeper.  Each time we passed Johnny would put his face on the glass and blow.  This made an ugly face and it seemed to upset the woman.  It also left an unsightly mess on the window.  She didn’t think it was funny, I didn’t think it was funny; but Johnny thought it was hilarious.  
After a while when the woman saw us she would get up and go to the back of the shop, no doubt hiding from the hideous creature who made faces and smeared her window.  Even if she had left, Johnny did his face thing and laughed.  One day a man came out, he might have been the owner, he didn’t say, he told Johnny he would have to clean up that mess or he was calling the cops—he also let Johnny know that he knew his mother.  With no reason that anyone could have figured out, Johnny jumped around and made monkey noises at the man and then ran off.  It was obvious to me that Johnny had just insulted the man, but the man seemed unsure what to do.  He looked at me as if I might have an answer, I had none.  He went inside and I went home.  From that day forward we begin to walk on the other side of the street and only cross over once we reached the hobby store.  All Johnny ever said about that day was that the man had called his mother and threaten to have him arrested for damaging his window—he said “defacing”, but must have meant something else.  In a very strange way Johnny seemed to think all of that was funny.
Christmas had never been a big event at Johnny’s house. They had a tree but it was only slightly decorated and they had very few gifts.  Johnny had never won the Christmas gift rating game.  He didn’t seem to care but it was hard to tell for sure.  His biggest gift this year was cowboy boots.  That could rank pretty high on the kid’s scale, but he said they were hand-me-downs from a cousin who lived in the country.  Better luck next year Johnny.
Next: A Christmas Tradition Final

Art Show Santa Fe

Currently in the middle of writing the second Vincent Malone book; Blue Flower Red Thorns. Vincent is still in Santa Fe and involved in the big time art business.  You may not be familiar with the thriving art market that exist in Santa Fe.  Many people think the art is exclusive Native American or southwest art but the city also has many contemporary galleries selling art world wide.  According to the Santa Fe chamber of commerce “Santa Fe is recognized worldwide for its rich culture and diverse art community. The city hosts over 250 art galleries as well as a variety of museums and performing arts.”  And also, “In terms of dollar sales, Santa Fe is among the largest art markets in the U.S. according to a study by the University of New Mexico’s Bureau of Business and Economic Research.”  

But of course even in the rarefied air of fine art there is lust and greed; which leads to murder and mystery; and another book!

Note: pre-order on the first Vincent Malone book; Santa Fe Mojo, should be up on Amazon on May 7th. Notice I said should be–scheduling glitches do happen, but that date is the target.

A Christmas Tradition

Part Two of Four

There had been two big incidents in the neighborhood for as long as anyone could remember.  One was when the bootlegger, who lived one street over, was arrested.  Everyone knew where the bootlegger lived but it was shocking when the police arrested the man.  While selling booze was obviously illegal most fathers thought he hadn’t harmed anyone and “don’t the police have better things to do than hassle our neighbors” was often said by various dads, some of whom were customers.  The other was a suicide.

Across the street from my house two houses down was a family who no one really knew.  They had a grown son who lived with them but he never spoke to anyone or even waved.  The parents were retired military and seemed very old.  Not much was known, but gossip had speculated that the son was staying with his parents because he had legal problems.  That bit of gossip was based on absolutely nothing other than the willful and unfounded claims of Mrs. Peters.  According to my mother, she read way too many books and had extreme ideas.  I heard my mother whisper to my father that she had a whole bookcase full of romance novels.  Sin did exist in Midwest City.

One day the grown son parked his almost new Chevrolet in the one-car garage and started the engine.  His mother found him many hours later and emitted a blood curdling scream before she collapsed.  Within a very short amount of time the police arrived and set-up a blockade with their patrol cars and uniform officers stationed around the small house.  No one saw the father that day, but the mother was taken away in an ambulance.  Soon other vehicles arrived and while observed by everyone in the neighborhood the son’s body was removed.  Shortly after the incident the parents moved out.  It was said the father had been put in a nursing home.  The house stayed vacant for many years and was still vacant when my parents moved to a larger house.
My journey on Christmas morning was first to Bills.  Start with the most difficult and work towards the easiest, a philosophy that served me well long after Christmas Day gift auditing duties.  Bill was prepared.  He had made a list with estimated value points.  He had definitely hit the Christmas gift jack-pot with a Giant Erector Set, the one with a functioning elevator.  On top of that he got a new baseball glove.  He was sitting pretty.  We argued some and debated, but he won me over and we agreed his score was a whopping forty-two.  A record.

Next up was Ernie.  I hadn’t been inside his house all that much, but when I was it was always a warm feeling.  His mother was very small and polite, more like a grandma than a mom.  His dad stayed outside in their garage where he had a wood working shop.  He made things, like tables and book cases and sold them at a small flea market near the fair grounds.  Not sure he had a job.  He had never said anything to me.  Ernie stepped outside wearing a new stocking cap and sporting some impressive gloves.  This was going to be a very competitive year.  Ernie was grinning like he was about to explode, he had something hidden behind his back.  “It is a miracle. I finally got one.”  He seemed in awe, I had no idea what he was talking about.  He brought it forward and showed me.  I still didn’t know what it was.  “It’s a slide-rule.”  This was something different, never had it been listed on the kids scale of gifts.  But, no doubt, even I knew this was on the same scale as an erector set.  After some thought I offered my opinion on value, Ernie looked offended.  He began a dissertation that covered more words than I had ever heard him say.  He talked about adding, subtracting, division, most of which I sort of understood; but then he mentioned logarithms, roots and powers, trigonometry.  The words lost meaning.  This was in another league.  Just based on the look on Ernie’s face this had to be the best genius boy gift of all-time, without further hesitation I declare the gift score, including the gloves and hat at an astronomical seventy-five.  Contest over, no one could beat this—except for maybe a motor scooter.  Congratulations were due to Ernie and his poor parents, they had reached the highest gift score of all time.  Ernie was beaming as I left.

Next Post –Part Three

A Christmas Story in March

My new blog plan is to post at least a couple of times a month.  Some of these posts may be just an excerpt from a short story or they could include some comments from me; not sure what will be available on a bi-weekly basis.  The first short story will be serialized in this blog over four posts.  This story from my childhood will be about a different time and to a large extent about a different place–it is also a little out of season–A Christmas Tradition.

Hope you enjoy!

A Christmas Tradition

Part One of Four

Christmas morning in 1954 was a joyous mixture of giving and receiving along with a little gift score tallying.  My family lived in a modest, I would guess about eight hundred square foot, two-bedroom house.  It was just like all of the other houses on our street, East Northrup Drive in Midwest City, Oklahoma.    The first streets in the new town were named after generals, local VIP’s, airplane companies and other references which somehow linked with the massive air force base just to the south of the small but expanding city.  Most residents had some direct connection with Tinker Field.  Usually one family member worked there.  These were largely lower income families who had the greatest of expectations for their future and the future of the country.  Optimism was the norm.  There was a sense of oneness that was no doubt based on a rather homogeneous look of the residents.  It was a predominantly white Christian population with a strong influence of puritan attitudes, and old-time Oklahoma farmer resilience.  Bigotry existed but was kept under the surface, but not far under.  Luxury wasn’t normal and more often than not was measured by an abundance of food.  Authority was respected and schools were honored.  School Christmas plays with a manger and wise men were traditional and well attended.  Almost all people went to church on Sundays, whether they believed or not.

For most, Christmas morning meant gifts, often many, many gifts.  The feeling of great optimism about the future gave people the courage to over-spend, even though their depression era parents wouldn’t have approved.  Within this bubble of innocence and joy there was the score keeping.  Which kid on the block, often extending a couple of streets over, got the most and the best gifts.  A rating system of sorts had developed.  Electric train sets were a ten, apples and oranges a definite one; and of course the dreaded grandmother bag of nuts, a zero.  A system devised by little boys, girls weren’t involved.

My particular competitors were Donny, Ernie, Bill, Bobby and Johnny.  Sometimes some other kids were involved but this was the core group.  Bill was always the hard one to figure.  In a fortunate or unfortunate occurrence, Bill was born on December 24th.  His birthday and the birthday of Jesus were almost the same.  His parents claimed he still received the same number of birthday gifts as any kid born in August, but of course, Bill knew that wasn’t true.  They would separate them and mark some birthday and some Christmas, but Bill suspected his mother just divided ‘em in half without much thought.  So how to keep score.  It was decided after lengthy discussion that Bill could decide which were birthday and which were Christmas, not his mother.  Everyone trusted Bill.  He was the fat kid in our group, although he wasn’t really all that fat, which somehow to the poorly developed brains of little boys made him a truth teller.  Everyone trusted Bill to make a fair division of the gifts.  Plus, Bill had a little brother named Timmy, who everyone hated.  There was great sympathy for the burdens Bill had to endure.

Everyone else was fairly easy to calculate with some discussion and negotiating, but mostly there was agreement as to value.  The other exception was Ernie.  Ernie lived several blocks off of the street everyone else lived on.  It was perceived that Ernie’s parents were poor.  Mostly Ernie got hand-me-down clothes, new socks, new underwear and candy.  In kid terms not much value depending on the candy; but because kids have an innate sense of fairness the rating system allowed some higher points for things like gloves and hats.  So, if Ernie struck a glove-hat goldmine, he could still win.  Ernie was a genius.  All the other students knew it and, of course, the teachers knew it.  Since he was so smart, he wasn’t allowed to decide much, because he had an unfair advantage.  This was the beginning of a formal society structure in which the smart kids stood by and watch the dumb kids mess things up.

My job was clear.  I gathered the facts.  This was due to my parent’s lenient attitude about me leaving the house and visiting my friends on Christmas Day.  Both my mom and dad worked, not the typical family at the time.  My dad worked two jobs, one at Tinker and one at a local shoe store.  Christmas was a day off for them, and they didn’t have many of those.  In addition to their desire for peace and quiet, was the fact that the neighborhood was absolutely safe.  Kids were out and about all of the time, without supervision.  Parents would have thought it odd to “watch” their kids play. 

Next Week: Part Two

Featured Book

Limited Time Only $2.99



Unless you lived in Oklahoma City in the 1960s this story may not be familiar to you; but much of the circumstances described in this book are true.  The newspaper war that is at the center of Tommy Jacks world was actually happening.  One of the main characters, Taylor Albright; was based on a real person.  He was someone I knew and spent a lot of time discussing all of the important matters of the day.  I owned a printing business where he printed his gossip tabloid.  Never got paid for any of that, but it’s long past now.  This, of course, is a book of fiction; although based on some truths.

If you have not yet read this book, you should.  Buy it Now!

Free e-books on Amazon

One of the marketing tools used by myself and other indie authors is limited time free e-book promotions.  These free book days are then promoted on book promotion web sites and generate a lot of new readers. Beginning with my April newsletter I will start publishing these dates in advance for that month.  This will give you an opportunity to get one of my books maybe you have not read FREE! Or if you wanted to recommend one of my books you could pass along the date for the free book to a friend.  Obviously giving away books does not make me anything, but it is a way for me to build a following of readers–and hopefully get some good reviews; which does help me sell more books.

If you have not signed up for my email list on the web site you can do that here.

Upcoming free e-book promotions on Amazon.

March 13        Sky High Stakes
March 23        Dog Gone Lies
March 24        Murder So Strange (Latest release)
March 30        The Bootlegger’s Legacy
March 31        Murder So Strange

Remember sign up for the monthly newsletter to get the free dates for April.

2018 — Big Year!

2018 is shaping up to be my biggest year yet.  In the next week or so the 2nd Muckraker Series book will be released: Murder So Strange.  Lots of intrigue; and twists and turns in this one.

Also this year the following books will be published:

  • Santa Fe Mojo.  This is the first in the Vincent Malone Mystery series.  This is a throw back to the hard-drinking tough guy PI of yesteryear, but the story is a current day story about that aging investigator and his search for a little calm at the end of his days.  This first book introduces the Blue Door Inn in Santa Fe where Malone has taken a dead-end job as a van driver.  Soon there is a murdered famous sports agent and the suspects are his guests at the Inn who are his professional sports clients.  Lots of fun for me, hope you enjoy this new series.
  • Murder On Account.  This is the third book in the Muckraker Series featuring Tommy Jacks as an enterprising reporter in the 1960’s political world of Oklahoma.  This story focuses on the U.S. Senate race with three very interesting candidates.  Tommy Jacks is in the middle of all of the action.
  • Blue Flower Red Thorns.  Second book in the Malone series.  He is still in Santa Fe and finds himself involved with the marijuana business in Durango, Colorado helping the son of two of his co-workers at the Inn.  Also he is trying to solve the disappearance of a newly famous Dutch contemporary artist who is the featured artist at a major art show in a famous Santa Fe art gallery.  Soon death and murder rear their ugly heads.
Definitely has been a busy time for me.  All of these books are in some stage of editing and production except for Blue Flower Red Thorns which I’m currently writing.  Thanks for your support as readers.  If you have not already, it is a great benefit to me to have you review my books on amazon.  Reviews drive sales which is how I survive to write more books.  I would like to say only good reviews but actually your thoughts about the books are welcome even if not five stars (just not as much).

New Cover and New Book

While looking at options for the cover of book 2 in the Muckraker Series: Murder So Strange it was decided that the cover for Murder So Wrong needed to change to match up with the new series look.  So it was changed–may be up on Amazon already, if not now, in a couple of days.


Murder So Strange should be available before March 1st on Amazon.  Hope you are enjoying this new series with co-author Stan Nelson.

Indie Author

Was asked the other day what it meant to be an indie author.  Mostly what it means is that you have little structured support for the process of writing books and also the marketing of those books.  You are on your own.  Okay not completely.  I have help with editing, cover design, formatting and some distribution aspects from two great people Saul Bottcher and Nas Hedron.  Maybe it just seems like you are alone on most days.

It was great writing the Muckraker series with Stanley Nelson in that there was someone else involved who could provide a different perspective.  His input was an important element in the authenticity of the story line regarding journalism. Although when in doubt, I just make things up–it is fiction.

The real challenge for an indie author is promotion/marketing.  I would guess that this is not the strength of most indie authors.  You write your book, deal with all of the details of having a finished book, get it on-line and nothing– now what?  Especially if it is your first book, unless you have done a great deal of prepublication marketing (costing lots of money, which most indie authors do not have), nothing happens. No sales, no reviews –nothing.  I have no idea how many one-book authors there are on Amazon but I would guess a lot.  It is very discouraging to have written a good book and no one reads it, because it is lost in the forest of on-line books for sale.  So many of those authors I’m sure just give up.

I’ve been fortunate to have found a loyal following for my books.  Winning some awards and having good reviews have helped me generate a base of readers.  Reviews are a big part of finding new readers.  I really appreciate everyone who has reviewed my books–of course, there are exceptions.  Occasionally I will get a less than stellar review.  Ouch!  But mostly they are good.  Reviews are a real key to selling books.  And it is selling books that allows writers to write.

Keep reading!

Tommy Jacks My View Columns

One of the unique features in the Muckraker series is the newspaper columns written by Tommy Jacks; usually appearing after each chapter.  Tommy Jacks is the main character in the Muckraker series.  He is a recent graduate with a journalism degree.  He lands his first job with a struggling, relatively new daily newspaper; the OK Journal and through an unusual set of circumstances is asked to write an opinion column focused on politics.  He soon takes over the name My View for his columns at the request of the publisher, that name has a lot of history attached to it and presents new challenges for Tommy.

The columns often continue the story line from the primary text but sometimes they veer off and cover national news occurring in this time period; the 1960s, or delve deeper into the weeds of local political happenings.

The columns also give Tommy a platform to hammer at the lack of movement by the authorities regarding unsolved murders that have occurred within his world.  And of course an opportunity to land a few well deserved punches to some of the more unworthy political operatives walking the halls of the capitol.  After all he is a muckraker.