My version of a painting hanging in my house. My first attempt at serious painting. During my short military career in Germany, I managed to travel the countryside most weekends. In the small towns scattered across Europe, places like this are common.
The first book in my AL CLARK Series is currently FREE. As I learn more about promoting books on a budget, trying different tactics and ways to promote seems to be inevitable. It appears exposure to new readers is a key facet to success. If I can get people to read book one, they usually purchase other books in the series.
All my books have four stars or better on Amazon. Goodreads reviews are similar.
Another experiment in marketing I am trying is to make Al Clark, along with all my books, available on most popular retail book distributors.
Christopher’s Journal (Prequel to The Al Clark Series)
Christopher is alone, and trapped in the habitat ring of an aged colonial starship. He doesn’t know if the rest of the colonists are sleeping or dead. He is unsure what to do. This scenario was not covered at the Spacer’s Academy.
This is another drawing from his journal that documents his predicament. To help maintain his sanity he must find ways to stay busy and kill time. Drawing not only kills time, it helps him stay sane.
AL CLARK (Book One) 5.0 out of 5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Excellent believable Earth to Avalon Reviewed in the United States on August 13, 2025 Format: KindleVerified Purchase I enjoyed the fast pace of the coming of Al Clark. Well done storyline and interesting characters. I am looking forward to continuing the saga.
Three years in the making, Al Clark-Gravity (Book Six in the Al Clark Series) is finally finished. This was a tough book to complete and has haunted me for a long time. It has it all: New Characters, Space Adventure, Rebel Space Stations, Alien Contact, A Moon of Mars, Earth, Colonization, Demanding Artificial Intelligence, and New Technology.I have to admit I am breathing a sigh of relief.
Here is a small sample to get you going.
Pyper McGuire is a space station rat who knows her cage better than anyone. She hides in the shadows, roaming the immense structure at will. Like a fleeting ghost she is invisible to the bulk of the station’s residents. She is a young girl who sleeps where it is convenient, in places where few people travel, dependent on the individual circumstance. Her room and board is stolen from under their noses and she feels no guilt. Pyper had parents once, a long time ago. After their deaths in a freak accident she lived for a time with her uncle, who was a mostly absent maintenance technician. Maintaining a sprawling space station is very time intensive. He had little time left for her. He died a year ago, leaving Pyper alone and completely unrestrained. Over time, she learned to be self-sufficient. She is a scrawny seventeen year old girl who looks fifteen, with wise auburn eyes and dark hair kept short to simplify life on the run. She appears tall for her age, until you discover her true number of years, which she does not divulge readily. Her youthful appearance is both an advantage and a curse. Because she appears so young, she is able to get away with things an older teenager cannot. On the other hand, no one takes her seriously which she often finds frustrating. On this particular evening she is investigating a rumor percolating through the facility. A new ship has docked at the outskirts of the sprawling space station under a suspicious cloud of secrecy. The rumor speaks of a slender scout ship which landed upright on three graceful fins, an increasingly rare configuration ill-suited for many modern applications. The mystery is too appealing for her to ignore. She had to investigate.
My city of the future would be self-sustaining; transportation would be free as well as healthcare, and neighbors would treat each other with respect. Best of all, employment would be voluntary. Also, government would be minimal.
Call me a socialist-I don’t care. Everyone would be happy and life would be satisfying.
This is my rendition of a car I once owned. The colors were reversed as it was a white car with a red interior. However, I cannot for the life of me remember what happened to it. Those were turbulent times in my life.
In my younger days, I once owned a white Chevy Impala with red stripes and a red interior. It was a great car. This is the closest thing I could afford to enhance the memory. It is a 1/64 scale diecast model I gave new 4-spoke chrome wheels with Goodyear Tires and a new white interior.
Unmodified base. No Glue. Universal Axles with bent pins. Rolls like the wind.
A long, long time ago, I can still remember how my country used to make me smile. And I knew if I had the chance, that I could make those people dance, and maybe they’d be happy for a while. But February made me shiver with every order he delivered. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn’t take one more step. No, can’t remember if I cried, when I heard the news of his wounded pride. Something touched me deep inside, the day, democracy died. So bye bye my piece of the pie, drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singin’ “This’ll be the Day that it dies. This’ll be the Day that it dies.”
Adapted from Don McLeans. ‘American Pie’
Sorry folks, but I could not help myself. I am deeply concerned about the fate of our country.