ERIC WILDER'S BLOGSPOT

New Wyatt Thomas French Quarter Murder Mystery - Coming Soon!

2012-01-12T20:15:00.000-06:00

Eric Wilder's City of Spirits

It's Mardi Gras in the Big Easy and two boats have sunk in the main channel of the Mississippi River, denying river passage both in and out of New Orleans. When NOPD homicide detective Tony Nicosia's partner is stabbed during a Carnival parade, the Chief assigns him a new partner with the unlikely name of Marlon Bando. To make matters worse, Tony's wife Lil is demanding that he retire; a woman named Venus who is half his age is making a serious play for him; and a killer is on the loose. Wyatt has problems of his own: his ex-wife's wake; a new client that wants proof that he isn't a passeblanc; beautiful twin sisters named Desire and Dauphine; and a voodoo curse likely cast by Marie Laveau herself. City of Spirits, Eric Wilder’s newest full-length novel, coming soon. Get ready for a ride!

Eric'sWeb

25% Coupon for Big Easy

2012-01-09T19:04:00.000-06:00

Front Cover

If you're looking for a hard copy of Big Easy, here is a 25% off coupon at Lulu.com

25% off Eric Wilder's Big Easy
Coupon Code: LULUBOOK305Coupon expires January 31, 2012
$50 Max Savings
p.s. the ebook is presently free for a limited time at bn.com. Check it out.

Eric'sWeb

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T22:14:00.000-06:00

It was windy and 72 degrees today in Edmond, Oklahoma. What a way to end the year that included drought, the hottest year in history, The coldest temperature in Oklahoma history, and a big earthquake (well, at least for Oklahoma). We survived because, like the rest of the United States, Oklahoma is tough and resilient. Hey, and the Iraq War is finally over! Amen.

Happy New Year!

Eric’sWeb

Resurrection Fern Pic and Story

2011-12-24T01:11:00.000-06:00

Resurrection Fern

Yesterday I posted some pics from City Park in New Orleans that my brother in law Dennis Seals had sent me. One of the pics of an oak tree had an interesting plant growing on its branches. When I inquired about it, he sent me this note, and this new picture:

The plant that you see growing on the tree in the City Park Avenue picture is a fern commonly called Resurrection Fern (or Polypodium Polypodioides if you want to be pedantic). It is very common in live oak and cypress trees in the Deep South. It gets its name because it curls up and turns brown during a drought (really looks dead!), but almost immediately after a good rain it is bright green again. It is an epiphyte (air plant). I have attached a close-up for these ferns (right after a rain) that I took at Carol Sue’s. It ability to “resurrect” might make an interesting note in one of your stories. I grow a lot of ferns and we have a variant of this fern that grows in the ground and on tree roots. I have a few documents to clean up for work before the year is over, but will send some more pictures after the New Year. We also plan to stay put during the holidays – guess that comes with being old!

Eric'sWeb

City Park, New Orleans Pictures

2011-12-22T14:17:00.001-06:00

City Park Ave. Sign

My brother-in-law Dennis Seals took these pics of City Park on a recent trip to New Orleans.

Eric'sWeb

City Park Entrance

City Park Fountain

Dueling Oaks

Mossy Oak

Ghost, Gold and Murder in East Texas

2011-12-10T14:58:00.000-06:00

Front Cover

The ghost of a little girl, Confederate gold, and romance in antebellum east Texas. Read Ghost of a Chance (ebook) for 99 cents, only online at Barnes & Noble. Check it out.

Eric'sWeb

Murder, Lust and Voodoo

2011-12-09T21:30:00.001-06:00

Big Easy, a Wyatt Thomas Mystery

Murder, lust and voodoo in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Read the ebook Big Easy, now for 99 cents at Smashwords.com and Amazon.com. The sequel, City of Spirits, is coming soon.

Cougars in Kansas

2011-12-05T12:50:00.000-06:00

Cougar near Lewis, Kansas

Just received this pic and note from a geologist friend in Kansas. Seems there are wildcats in Kansas, and not just at Kansas State.

Email note: Evening tour roughneck on Duke Rig 7 claims this picture came from his cousin’s trail camera near Lewis , Kansas . That is the tri pod deer feeder in the background. Don’t know the validity of the story but it’s a great shot nun the less. Fish and Game won’t know doubt tell us there are no big cats in Kansas !

Eric'sWeb

Gondwana Press announces publication of Prairie Sunset - of Love and Magic as a paperback original

2011-11-30T16:23:00.001-06:00

- popular ebook by Louisiana author Eric Wilder is now available as a paperback original -

Edmond, Oklahoma (USA)

During a late spring snowstorm in a sleepy Tulsa suburb, an old man runs away from his abusive son and meets a woman, perhaps by magic. But there are unanswered questions. How old is too old to fall in love? Take the journey with John and Attie and discover the answer.

Readers at Amazon and B & N are saying: "Couldn't put it down." "Didn't want the story to end." "A real page turner." "I felt bathed in sunshine as I read it." "Truly a special and magical story." "I still have tears in my eyes."

Written by Eric Wilder, author of Big Easy, Ghost of a Chance, and A Gathering of Diamonds. ISBN: 978-0-9791-1654-4, retails for $18.95. Available across the web.

Gondwana Press, Edmond, Oklahoma, is a regional publisher of ebooks and paperback originals.

Eric'sWeb

Free ebook at Smashwords.com

2011-11-24T12:50:00.000-06:00

Tall tales and Texas recipes. Read Big Billy's Little Texas Cookbook, free at Smashwords.com. Happy Thanksgiving!

Eric'sWeb

Driving a Mercedes on Route 66

2011-11-18T16:07:00.000-06:00

Great story and pictures.

Route 66 Story and Pictures

Eric'sWeb

Lyrics to Windmills of Your Mind

2011-11-15T23:55:00.001-06:00

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Beautiful!

Rundown Shacks Part of Native Culture

2011-11-10T18:38:00.000-06:00

Fascinating! I've lived in Oklahoma for many years, but never heard this.
Oklahoma Native American Burial Practices

Eric'sWeb

Earthquake in Edmond, Oklahoma - the big one

2011-11-05T23:01:00.000-05:00

As I watched the wrap-up of LSU-Alabama, and Oklahoma State-Kansas State, my house began to shake. It continued for twenty to thirty seconds. Born in Louisiana, I've never experienced an earthquake. Wow!
Eric'sWeb

Cougars in Oklahoma

2011-11-02T21:17:00.000-05:00

You have to check this out. Oh yes, there are pumas in Oklahoma.
Cougars in Oklahoma
Eric'sWeb

Dave's Louisiana Bees

2011-10-28T23:00:00.002-05:00

David Beatty is my eco-friendly buddy from Livingston, Louisiana. Concerned about the plight of the honeybees, he offers a solution:

Dave's Bees

This time of the year honey bees are looking to stock up on 'sugar' to help them to survive over the winter. I'm sure you know that we have lost so many of our honey bees that our human food crops are in danger. Some farmers even rent bee hives to help pollinate their crops. Having said that, it is time to feed the bees. How to do it.

Look around your yard or apartment grounds and find a plant, with flowers, that has bees feeding. Then set a shallow dish in the plant with 'bee food.' As time goes by, it might take several days, the bees will start feeding on the bee food you put in the dish. Now, you can slowly move your 'feeding station' to a more convenient location so you can keep it supplied with bee food. I like to move mine to my front porch. There, it is out of the winter weather and easy for me to keep supplied with bee food.

Now, to make bee food. Place equal parts of sugar and water, 1 cup to 1 cup of water, in a pot and boil for about 1 minute. This will drive off all the nasty stuff your water company puts in your water to make it 'healthy' for you to drink. The bees will love it. I put in a little red food coloring to help attract the bees.

If this works for you as it has worked for me, be prepared to use up to 10# of sugar a week because these little suckers can suck up the sugar water. Pictures attached. It is a lot of fun to watch them, they will not sting and will let you watch them and get very close to their feeding.

Enjoy and let me know if you try this, the bees and our food source will thank you.

Eric'sWeb

10 Terrifying Halloween Books

2011-10-27T14:13:00.000-05:00

Terrifying Halloween Books

Eric'sWeb

A Trip Through David's Yard

2011-10-25T23:50:00.003-05:00

My friend Dave Beatty, from Livingston, Louisiana, sent me this story and pics from his yard. Enjoy:

David's Yard

Confederate Roses

David's Fox

Cap't Dave, Sailing on Pontchartrain

The flowers are "confederate roses". Some people might be led to believe that the Confederate rose is a rose that is native to the South. It is, in fact, a hibiscus that hails from China.

One story relates that the Confederate rose was in bloom during a particularly bloody battle of the Civil War. A slain soldier fell beside a Confederate rose, and his blood spilled into the ground at the base of shrub. The flowers, which had started out white in the morning, absorbed the slain soldier's blood throughout the day, so that by evening they had turned a deep, rosy red.

That sort of story makes for interesting reading, but the flowers do, indeed, live up the specific epithet, "mutabilis," which means "variable or changeable." All are large and showy and look somewhat like a large, delicate rose. Some are single, and many are double. On some specimens, the flowers that open early in the morning are snowy white, but by evening they have turned to deep rose. On the second day, they wither and fall from the shrub.

On other shrubs, the opening blossom may be pink, turning to white or even a darker pink as it ages. Either way, many buds are waiting for their day in the sun. At any time, as many as three different colors may show at one time as the flowers fade or darken to their various hues. On some single-flowered specimens, flowers are red and remain so for the duration of their bloom. Some are pink and gradually turn a darker shade of pink as they age.

And the fox, well it is just a fox that is eating corn I put out for deer, turkey and birds. Yes, some foxes do eat corn. I guess they started eating corn when they couldn't catch any chickens in the hen house.

I hope you enjoy these little trips through David's yard.

Eric'sWeb

Edmond, OK Sunset

2011-10-20T16:42:00.000-05:00

33rd and Bryant Ave.

Eric'sWeb

A Ghost Story for Halloween

2011-10-10T23:47:00.000-05:00

Though born in Oklahoma, my wife Marilyn spent much of her childhood in Gurdon, Arkansas. Her dad logged while her mother took care of their six children. Like many families in the south at the time, they had help from a black woman—for an enjoyable read, check out The Help by Kathryn Stockett—that spent much of her time at their house.

A railroad track winds through the little town, and for years, the locals have reported seeing strange lights on the tracks. One late October night, Hattie, encouraged by sisters Sharon Ann and Marilyn, and a shot or two of their dad’s bourbon, told them the real story behind the Gurdon Lights. The Gurdon Curse, as told to me by Marilyn, is her recollection of exactly how Hattie told it to her and Sharon Ann on that spooky night, so many years ago in southwest Arkansas.

The ghost story, just in time to give you a few chills for Halloween, is free in ebook format at Smashwords.com and Barnes & Noble. I hope you’ll check it out.

Eric'sWeb

Rainy Sunday in Oklahoma

2011-10-09T20:54:00.001-05:00

Stranded Lake Hefner Boats

Lake Hefner Cove

Much Needed Rain

It’s not news that Oklahoma experienced the second hottest summer in U.S. history in 2011. Texas won this one, and I'm glad they did. Oklahoma is also in the throes of a drought that has dried ponds, lakes and rivers. Yesterday, Saturday, much needed rain moved slowly across the State, and Texas, also suffering from devastating drought. It’s Sunday night, and the rain continues.

Marilyn and I had brunch at a restaurant on Lake Hefner, and I took a few pics of sailboats mired in the mud. Maybe, there’ll be enough run off to refloat them in a few days. I got a little wet when I fed the dogs and cats tonight, but hey, I’m not complaining.

Eric'sWeb

Monster in the Mist

2011-10-08T13:09:00.000-05:00

September saw temperatures reach a hundred degrees here in central Oklahoma but when October arrived, it was if someone had pulled a temperature switch. We have already experienced fifties and even forties, and day after day of drizzly weather. Today was no different.

After work, as I set out on my walk, a misty haze cloaked south Edmond. Walking is good exercise and great stress relief. It must also increase the blood flow to the brain because I always seem to solve my toughest dilemmas, or remember something from my veiled past whenever I walk. Tonight, I remembered something that had occurred many years ago. How I forgot this incident, I will never know because it was one of the most singularly frightening moments of my life.

I was a freshman in college at what is now the University of Louisiana at Monroe. My brother Jack had started there the prior year and convinced me to join an ROTC precision drill team called the Fusileers. I did, enjoying the camaraderie immensely. Toward the end of the first semester, we underwent an initiation called Hell Week.

During Hell Week, we initiates had to go to class everyday in full dress uniform, and then hang around the student union in case a senior Fusileer wanted to make us do push-ups, or recite the memorized, rhyming answer to specific military questions. I can’t remember a single rhyme, but I knew them all by heart during Hell Week.

Hell Week culminated with Hell Night. There is a giant, mostly abandoned gravel quarry on the outskirts of Monroe. During Hell Night, the initiated Fusileers dropped off us uninitiated in the darkness to try to find our way to the entrance. Along the way, the upperclassmen would ambush us with firecrackers, cherry bombs and M-80’s - legal fireworks at the time. The night was dark and hazy and we had no flashlights. During a particularly frenetic ambush, I somehow got separated from the group.

I must have walked a mile without calling out because I didn’t want the upperclassmen to capture me – having heard about the dire consequences the entire week. I soon realized that I was lost and began calling out.

The gravel pit was like the surface of Mars, rugged, rolling and completely barren of vegetation. Hazy rain had soaked my fatigues, my socks and boots wet from running through pooled water. When I stopped to listen for the other Fusileers, I heard something quite different and unexpected. It was the whumph of some large animal, coughing to get the attention of anyone near it. I didn’t know what it was, but it scared me. Not having a good grasp of what direction I was moving toward, I started away from the sound.

There was no moon or stars, only darkness and a persistent mist rising up from the broken gravel beneath my feet. I called out, “help.”

No one answered.

I heard the whumph again and realized it was not my imagination. My heart began racing as I also realized that the sound was drawing ever closer. I tried moving faster which resulted in a face-first plunge into a cold pool of water. Another chill ran up my spine as I heard a low growl on the hill directly behind me. Unable to get away, I lifted myself into a sitting position and turned to face whatever was stalking me.

On the rocky hill above me, I could just make out the moving shadow of some dark, four-legged beast. With my heart racing wildly, I prepared for its attack, something that never occurred. Over the hill behind me appeared the old World War II Jeep the head Fusileers used to move about the rock quarry. I could see its lights coming up from behind. When it topped the hill, the lights flashed briefly on the beast at the top of the hill.

All I ever saw was the red demon eyes of some misty apparition. Lights from the Jeep blinded me when I turned around, the beast gone when I glanced away into the darkness.

“Wilder, where the hell have you been?”

“Lost, Sir,” I said.

Major Pfrimmer glanced at his watch. “Damn good thing for you it’s after midnight or I would have had to wash you out. You may be a sorry sack of shit, but you’re a Fusileer now, so get in the damn Jeep."

I crawled into the open vehicle, regaling in the smiles, handshakes and shoulder slaps from my fellow initiates that had also survived Hell Night. Someone passed around a bottle of cheap whiskey and I imbibed, forgetting about the monster of the mist with glowing red eyes until forty years had passed, during my walk through a hazy Edmond neighborhood.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Sticky Creole Muffins - a weekend recipe

2011-10-08T01:18:00.000-05:00

Mama makes a breakfast muffin that is sticky, gooey and totally decadent. She rarely cooks them except in the morning, so mostly only her family and closest friends have had the pleasure of trying them. Since each muffin contains probably a million calories, this is likely a goodly thing. If you ever eat one, you may get permanently hooked. On the addiction scale from one to ten, these muffins are a ten. Enjoy, but try not to eat the whole pan.

Ingredients

• ½ c sugar
• 1/3 c butter
• 1 egg
• 1 ½ c flour, sifted
• 1 ½ t baking powder
• ¼ t salt
• ¼ t nutmeg
• ½ c milk
• 6 T butter, melted
• 1 t cinnamon
• ½ c sugar

Directions

Cream ½ c sugar and 1/3 c butter, and then add the egg. Sift dry ingredients, except cinnamon and the second ½ c sugar. Stir in milk and creamed mixture. Fill 12 muffin holders and bake in 350° oven for 20 to 25 minutes. When muffins are done, dip in the melted butter, and then in the sugar and cinnamon. Serve the muffins warm and try not to eat more than one before you leave the kitchen.

Eric'sWeb

28 Year-old Mom gets 30 Years for Selling $31 Worth of Pot in Oklahoma

2011-10-04T21:12:00.000-05:00

When the Punishment doesn't fit the Crime

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Blackberry Dumplings - a weekend recipe

2011-10-01T22:52:00.000-05:00

Mama has a potion or spell for just about anything, and also has an enormous sweet tooth. She grows many of the ingredients for her potions in her lush backyard. Even though her blackberry bush requires little attention, she watches it like a hawk until the delicious berries are harvested. Once they are, her friends are usually the lucky recipients of this delicious dessert. Try it and enjoy.

Ingredients

• 3 pts blackberries
• ¼ c water
• 1 c sugar
• 1 ½ t butter
• 2 c flour
• 3 t sugar
• 1 t salt
• 1 egg
• 3 ½ t baking powder
• Milk

Directions

Combine blackberries, water, sugar and butter. Let mixture sit. Sift flour, sugar, salt and baking powder into bowl. Add egg and mix well. Add enough milk to make batter stiff. Bring blackberry mixture to a boil. Drop batter, a spoonful at a time, into boiling mixture. Reduce heat, cover and cook for 15 to 20 minutes. Mama serves her dumplings with whipped cream, but vanilla ice cream is also good.

Eric'sWeb

Eric'sWeb

John's Story, Prairie Sunset - of love and magic

2011-09-18T18:01:00.000-05:00

How old is too old to fall in love? The question haunted me when I read a newspaper article in the Oklahoman about an old man that had disappeared from his son’s house during a late spring snowstorm.

The numerous casinos now prevalent all over Oklahoma weren’t in existence when I wrote this book. There was, however, Indian bingo. I drove through Red Rock, Oklahoma—site of a huge bingo gaming facility— the very day I read the article about the old man. It was springtime, flowers blooming and trees just beginning to bud. Like the flowers and trees, the story sprang forth in my mind, not letting me rest until I’d committed it to paper.

The Battle of the Bulge tale that John tells is true, at least as far as I know, recounted to me by my own father, a code clerk during World War II. Growing up, he was always my hero. His era produced many heroes, mostly unsung, their stories never told.

For awhile, I had the book posted on the website Authonomy.com, where authors critique each others' books and make suggestions for improving them. One author suggested I expand the book and resolve many of the questions left unanswered in the original version. Once I got started, the characters came alive again in my mind. When I finally stopped writing, the new version was almost fifteen thousand words longer than the original.

When is it too late to fall in love? Read John’s story, Prairie Sunset - of love and magic, now available across the web, and find out.

Eric'sWeb

Psychodelic Nights

2011-09-18T00:48:00.000-05:00

There's a storm brewing outside my window as I pen this story, all my dogs seeking shelter, warned of the impending squall by rolling thunder and lightning flashes.

I am a Vietnam vet, all manner of drugs available to me during my tour. I mostly passed on the drugs, fearing that I might be incognizant during an attack. Some of my fellow troopers saw things differently, wanting to feel stoned rather than face a possible unpleasant situation without some sort of anesthetic. Years later, no longer worrying about physical death, I learned to anesthetize myself against the mental pain that had begun attacking the fortress of my soul because of a rapidly failing marriage.

Carol, my girlfriend at the time, was also my drug guru, guiding me carefully down a path of knowledge and abuse. She was a gorgeous blonde-haired woman with smoky blue eyes, heaving breasts and a sardonic smile. She chain-smoked and always had a cigarette in her hand, except when she was burning a joint.

On a night such as this, we attended a concert and laser light show at the fairgrounds of Oklahoma City. As a noisy thunderstorm raged outside, hundreds of drugged-out latter day hippies raged inside, listening to psychedelic music while watching a colorful light show projected on the ceilings and walls. Like everyone else in the house, marijuana zonked Carol and I, the promoters of the event expecting as much. They did not care, nor did the off-duty Oklahoma City cops acting as security guards.

The time was the late seventies, long past the sixties hippie era. Radio stations were playing disco, as the English musical invasion had mostly waned. You would not have known it that night as hundreds of stoners watched a light show performed to the songs of perhaps the greatest psychedelic band ever - Pink Floyd. The music and drugs caused me to recall a time from my not so distant past.

The last movie I saw as a civilian before becoming one with the military was Easy Rider. To say the movie affected me is an understatement. I rarely remember a movie for a week after seeing it, but almost forty years have passed since viewing Easy Rider and many of the scenes remain lodged in my mind.

What I remember most is the noir scene in the St. Louis #1 Cemetery where Wyatt and Billy take two whores they recently met and do drugs in perhaps the most surreal vista ever filmed in an American movie. Maybe I remembered this scene when penning Big Easy because hero Wyatt Thomas has a tryst with his own girlfriend at the St. Louis #1 Cemetery, the burial spot for famous New Orleans voodoo mambo Marie Laveau.

Eric'sWeb

Carol and I watched the laser light show, and then sated and satisfied we returned to her tiny house. Too stoned for lovemaking, we simply tried to sleep before Monday morning returned us to stark reality. Lying in the darkness of Carol’s bedroom, I stared at ceiling shadows, recalling the many bizarre events that had occurred in my life, and pondering what the next day might bring.

Mama Mulate's Cajun Tomato Fritters - a weekend recipe

2011-09-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

The mirliton is an aggressively-growing vegetable that thrives in south Louisiana, and dominates Mama’s backyard. An itinerant cheapskate, the voodoo mambo can’t stand to see a single plant go to waste, and compensates by creating many mirliton recipes. Here is one of her favorites.

Ingredients

• 4 tomatoes, finely chopped
• 2 mirlitons, finely chopped
• 1 green chili pepper, deseeded, and finely chopped
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 1 ½ cups flour
• ½ bunch fresh parsley, finely chopped
• ½ bunch fresh mint, finely chopped
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Vegetable oil

Directions

Combine all ingredients, except flour, in a bowl. Add enough flour to make a thick batter. In a frying pan, heat oil until hot. Drop the batter, by spoonfuls, into the oil, and fry until browned. Turn once to brown on both sides. Remove fritters with a slotted spoon and drain on absorbent paper towels. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Route 66 Pet Adopt-a-thon hits Amarillo

2011-09-16T13:19:00.001-05:00

Thought this might be of interest for everyone that loves animals and old Route 66.

Route 66

Eric'sWeb

And When I Die

2011-09-10T23:42:00.001-05:00

War is a game I played when I was young. I didn’t know at the time, it was a reality that would steal my youth.

I was twenty three when I went to war. I didn’t get much time off during my stay at Fort Polk, learning how to kill, maybe two weekends. One of them I spent in Chalmette, visiting then wife Gail and her parents. I traveled there on the bus and the trip was memorable, not in what I saw, but in what I felt.

Leesville is the Louisiana town just outside of Fort Polk and one word describes it—seedy. The Leesville bus station fit the bill. I can’t remember how I got there, though I probably hitchhiked from the base. The lobby reeked with the vague odor of despair, the station empty except for the lady that issued my ticket without seeming to see me, and about a half dozen GI’s; like me, they were all privates.

I sat alone in the back of the bus, reveling in the legroom but saddened by the darkened loneliness. We were fifty miles out of town when one of the GI’s began to sing. I wasn’t very old. This kid was younger, probably no more than eighteen. There was a song out at the time called And When I Die. Laura Nyro wrote it and Blood, Sweat and Tears had a hit with the song. The young man had no accompaniment and sang it much slower even than Nyro’s version. His words tore the heart right out of my chest. The young man was an Eleven Bravo, same as me. We were both infantry bullet-stoppers bound for the human gristmill that was Vietnam.

Like me, he was probably afraid of death. I was afraid of something much worse—the decisive act of taking another human life. I didn’t know if I was up to the task, even though I’d had the act of ultimate enactment drummed into the very essence of my soul for the past four months.

The song’s lyrics ripped at my heart, though didn’t make me cry. I was drenched in the steel resolve of personal survival at the time. I would do what I had to do. I only hoped that any act of violence I might ultimately have to perform wouldn’t corrupt my soul—at least not forever.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Shrimp and Mirliton Casserole - a weekend recipe

2011-09-10T01:24:00.000-05:00

Mirlitons may originally be from Mexico and Central America, but they’ve found a home, and a faithful following, in New Orleans. The vegetable grows on a vine, and can be found in abundance in Mama’s backyard, climbing up trellises, fences and whatever. There are many ways to prepare the mirliton. Here is one of Mama’s favorites.

Ingredients

• 4 medium mirlitons
• 4 tbsp. butter
• 1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 1 cup green onions, chopped
• 1 onion, large, finely chopped
• ¼ cup parsley, chopped
• ½ cup celery, chopped
• ½ bell pepper, medium, chopped
• Salt, pepper and garlic powder to taste
• ½ cup bread crumbs

Directions

Boil mirlitons in salty water until tender. Peel and cube the pulp. In a skillet, using butter, sauté green onions, onions, bell pepper, celery and parsley. Add shrimp and cook 10 minutes. Add mirliton, garlic powder, salt and pepper to taste, and then mix well. Pour into large casserole dish, sprinkle with bread crumbs. In an oven preheated to 350 degrees, bake the ingredients 30 minutes, or until top is golden brown.

Eric'sWeb

Critters, Crows and Moonies - Pics

2011-09-09T23:57:00.000-05:00

Scooter, Princess & Oscar

Watch Crow

A few pics I took in my backyard the last day or so. The dogs, crows, and the spiders are loving the cooler weather.

Eric'sWeb

Garden Spider

Bloomin' Moonies

Spider & Moonies

Oscar & Princess

Scooter & Princess

Days of Disco

2011-09-07T22:58:00.004-05:00

In 1977, I was freshly divorced and working in a high-stress job as a geologist—"A new drilling prospect every week or you’re fired!" Nights would find me in a disco called Clementine’s located in the basement of Oklahoma City’s Penn Square Mall. The place was dark, the music loud, the drinks and women loose. I was usually inebriated, or well on my way to getting there.

Yes, it was in the post-Vietnam, pre-AIDS era. Practically every night I would spend many hours line dancing to the anthems of Gloria Gaynor, Donna Summer and KC and the Sunshine Band. 1977 was the year I first saw the movie Saturday Night Fever and fell in love with the music of the BeeGees.

There were two ways to enter Clementine’s. You could walk down a narrow flight of stairs or slide down a chute. Either way you’d wind up in a huge open room that was illuminated only by a rotating disco ball, colored strobe lights that warped your reality even if you weren’t drunk or stoned, and a few discreetly placed floor lamps that provided little more than a dim haze. Most of all there was a pressing multitude of warm bodies and the sounds of disco, belting out the message of freedom, expression and free love.

A huge bar extended across the front of the room where three bartenders served drinks as fast as they could pour them. The dance floor of diamond-shaped black and white tiles was rarely empty; the occasional cooling fingers of vapor rising from grids in the floor made the swaying dancers seem like uninhibited creatures from Hell’s nether regions.

The dance floor was like hypnosis, insanity and blasting sound. Bodies crushed together amid the beat of drums as ancient as Africa. Once, across the crowded dance floor, I saw a beautiful young woman staring at me. Our eyes locked. We danced toward each other. She passed me a note with her phone number and when I called her the next day she invited me for spaghetti that night at her apartment. I showed up with flowers and a bottle of wine.

Marti was her name. A single mother, she had a five year old son named Chris. We ate our spaghetti and drank wine by candlelight. When we finished, I helped her with the dishes and then she put Chris to bed. Afterward, we made love in her bedroom.

"I want to thank you so much," was her unexpected reply as we lay beside each other in her little bed.

"My pleasure," I said.

"You don’t understand," she explained, sensing the flippant tone of my voice. "I’m in remission from cervical cancer. You are the first man I’ve slept with. I’ve been so worried that I would never have the feelings of a woman ever again. You proved to me tonight that I’m okay and I thank you."

Confused and too young or too stupid to understand the depths of her feelings, I contributed little more than small talk before saying good bye and disappearing into the night. I never saw her again and I don’t think she needed me to.

Those were the days of disco, my days of disco, for whatever that means. Some people have even suggested that disco isn’t cool and people that liked it were somehow less than intelligent. I don’t think so. I think we were all just as young, human and vulnerable as any young person today.

And I do know this. Whenever I hear Gloria Gaynor, Donna Summer or the BeeGees, I find myself back on that same dark dance floor, with wisps of vapor cooling the sweat dripping down my neck and forehead as I pulsate to a hypnotic beat and message of love and coming together. And when I do, it makes me feel young again.

Eric'sWeb

The Man Behind the Naming of Route 66

2011-09-06T12:40:00.001-05:00

Ever wonder how Route 66 got its name? Read this article and find out.

Naming Route 66

Eric'sWeb

A Change in the Weather

2011-09-06T00:37:00.001-05:00

The weather is gorgeous here in Edmond since the cold front, and ensuing rainstorm moved out the heat dome. My moonflowers also appreciated the milder weather, blooming as never before tonight. Yes, they smell as wonderful as they look.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Green Gumbo - a weekend recipe

2011-09-05T00:10:00.001-05:00

There are as many varieties of gumbo in New Orleans as there are streets with French names. One variety, Green Gumbo, or Gumbo Z’herbs, is little-known and generally found only in New Orleans. Catholic’s often serve this meatless gumbo (although meat may be added) on Good Friday. Superstition has it that a new friend will be made for every different green leafy vegetable used in the gumbo. Mama, a naturally suspicious person, always uses seven different types of greens. Here is her special recipe for Green Gumbo.

Ingredients

• 3 pounds leaves of (choose your own seven greens) collard, cabbage, radish, turnips, mustard, spinach, watercress, parsley and green onion, equal portions, chopped very fine
• 1 onion, white, large, chopped
• ½ red pepper pod
• ½ tsp. black pepper
• 1 bay leaf, finely chopped
• 1 sprig thyme, finely chopped
• 1 sprig parsley, finely chopped
• 1 sprig sweet marjoram, finely chopped
• 1 clove of garlic
• ¼ tsp. allspice, ground fine
• ½ tsp. cayenne
• ½ cup vegetable oil
• ½ cup flour, all-purpose
• boiled rice

Directions

Wash the leaves thoroughly then remove coarse midribs. Pat dry. Put greens in a large pot with enough water to cover. Add black pepper. Boil for about 2 hours, strain and then chop very fine. Save the water in which they were boiled. Combine cooking oil and flour over medium heat in a heavy pot or Dutch oven.

When hot, add chopped onion and chopped sprig of parsley. Stir until roux reaches a rich peanut brown, and then add the chopped greens. When the leaves become brown, pour contents into the water in which the leaves were boiled. Throw in the bay leaf, thyme, sweet marjoram, red pepper pod, clove of garlic and allspice. Stir slowly. Place pot over low flame and simmer, partially covered for about 2 more hours, adding cayenne during the process. Serve with rice and French bread. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Morning Mist of Blood Free at Smashwords

2011-09-04T14:18:00.001-05:00

Buck McDivit, cowboy detective and protagonist of Eric Wilder's first novel Ghost of a Chance, returns in the mystery/thriller Morning Mist of Blood. Read it for free at Smashwords.

Eric'sWeb

Oklahoma Burning - continued

2011-08-31T23:01:00.000-05:00

My step-daughter Kate started college this month at Redland's Community College in El Reno, Oklahoma. Tonight, she called, worried about Marilyn and me.
"You're in the path of a flash fire," she said.
She wasn't quite right. The fire burning acres of red cedar trees, dried grass and many homes and farms is still east of us, on the other side of I-35.
Wednesday night is my night out with the boys. We all end up at my place where Marilyn, a wonderful cook, always has something wonderful for us to eat. On the way home, I couldn't help but see the thick plume of smoke just east of my house.
Marilyn cooked gumbo tonight to the raves of everyone present. When everyone left, she suggested we turn on our sprinkler. I hardily concurred.
Today is the last day of August and the Oklahoman says it marks the hottest summer for any state in the Union, ever. 107d today. Yes, it's hotter than the hubs of holy hell here.
Eric'sWeb

Oklahoma Burning

2011-08-30T22:22:00.000-05:00

Saw the smoke billowing on the horizon this morning after leaving the dentist’s office. I could still smell it tonight when I went for my walk. This is the driest summer I can remember and it’s surely the hottest. Today marks the 57^th day of triple-digit temperature in OKC. Several towns in Oklahoma are approaching 90 days.

Grass Fires Claim 12 Homes in OKC

Eric'sWeb

Pond Scum and Summer Heat

2011-08-29T22:10:00.000-05:00

Attack of the Green Creature

Dave's new truck and Airstream

My friend Dave Beatty, who lives in Livingston, Louisiana, sent me a couple of pictures lately. His pond was almost empty when it finally rained. It didn't take long for a green scum to form once the sun came back out. Fed up with the heat, he bought a new pickup and Airstream trailer.

"I'm spending next summer in the mountains of Colorado."

I don't want to hear it, Dave. It was 108 in OKC yesterday. We don't even have ponds to have green scum on anymore. They all evaporated.

Eric'sWeb

Mama's Steamed Oysters - a weekend recipe

2011-08-28T19:36:00.000-05:00

Mama has a PhD in English literature, but when it comes to sports, she isn’t a typical academic. A track star at the University of South Carolina, she participated in world-class sprints and relays. Her sleek body still attests to her former athletic prowess.

Another dirty little secret, Mama likes professional football and loves the New Orleans Saints. She attends every home game, at least when someone else is treating, that is. A recalcitrant cheapskate, she refuses to pay what she considers an exorbitant price for tickets. When she can’t see her beloved Saints playing in person, she often hosts a game party, serving steamed oysters, a New Orleans favorite.

Ingredients

• 4 dozen oysters, shucked
• Salt and pepper to taste
• A dash of cayenne

Directions

In a steamer, steam the oysters in a mixture of water and beer for about 5 minutes. Combine with salt, pepper and a dash of cayenne. Serve on crackers with drawn butter and, or Tabasco sauce.

Eric'sWeb

Excerpt from Morning Mist of Blood

2011-08-27T17:43:00.000-05:00

The weight of the heavy cat hammered him into the mud. Jaws would have clamped his jugular, holding him in place with two large paws until his last breath escaped from his body, but Buck had ducked and pivoted, the beast’s claws raking only his back. Having no other weapon, he grabbed a double handful of mud, thrusting it into the panther’s eyes.

Some primeval instinct guided his hands, the panther howling in outrage when struck in the face with the globs of sticky mud. The ruse worked for only a moment, but long enough for him to dive down the ledge to the creek. The fall should have knocked him silly, except he landed in shallow water. Plowing ahead, his heart beat double-time as his mind raced for answers, knowing the panther would be on him in a flash. The water wasn’t deep, but flowing rapidly and he let the current carry him forward.

He couldn’t hear the big cat but somehow knew it was bounding after him. When he reached solid ground, he sprang to his feet and began running toward light, maybe from the moon, in the roof of the arboreal tunnel. He didn’t make it very far.

$0.99 on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.com

Eric'sWeb

Edmond, Oklahoma Marks 25th Anniversary of Post Office Massacre

2011-08-20T09:43:00.000-05:00

Mystery and controversy still shrouds the brutal mass killing that occurred in Edmond, Oklahoma twenty-five years ago, and many deep wounds remain unhealed.
Edmond Post Office Massacre

Eric'sWeb

Sweet-toothed Cat

2011-08-18T22:33:00.000-05:00

Butter Cup

There was a stale chocolate doughnut in our kitchen that Marilyn decided to feed to the birds or squirrels outside. She threw it under the bird feeder, returning a few minutes later to find Butter Cup polishing it off. I knew she was a finicky eater but didn't know she liked doughnuts. Guess I know now what to give her for treats.
Eric'sWeb

Revised and Enhanced Prairie Sunset

2011-08-09T00:20:00.000-05:00

Coming soon! Newly revised with an extra 10,000 words. Everyone loves Prairie Sunset but many say I ended it too soon, not telling the whole story. Well, check out the revised version (director's cut). Hopefully, all your questions will be answered. If you're sixty, or over, I think you'll like this book.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Chilled Mango-Melon Soup - a weekend recipe

2011-08-06T15:06:00.000-05:00

Mama Mulate’s backyard is a tropical maze of garden pathways, stone masonry, fountains and birdbaths. Flowering vines grow up trellises and the back fence. Ferns, flower baskets and wind chimes hang from the eaves of her large covered deck where tropical ceiling fans provide a steady flow of air when you’re lounging in her porch swing, or comfortable rattan furniture.

Mama also has a garden where she grows peppers, okra, melons, and many other vegetables. What she doesn’t grow in her own backyard, she buys fresh at the French Market, a destination she likes to visit early in the morning.

Summers are always hot and humid in the Big Easy. The City’s residents—at least those that don’t have a mountain retreat—have found ways to stay cool and healthy. Mama loves making chilled soups and then serving them on her covered deck to the slow whirring of overhead fans, dripping of water in the fountains, and sounds of crickets and tree frogs. For a wonderful summer respite, try Mama’s chilled mango-melon soup.

Ingredients

1 large cantaloupe, peeled, seeded and chopped
2 large mangoes, peeled, pitted and chopped
2 limes, juiced
½ Tbsp. cinnamon, ground

Directions

Puree melon and mango chunks in a blender, until smooth, with lime juice and cinnamon. Pour into a large bowl, stirring well. Chill for at least 3 hours. Pour into glass bowls, garnish with strawberry slices and sliced almonds. Serve and enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Juan's Oilpatch Fajitas

2011-07-23T13:53:00.000-05:00

The oilpatch is a tough place to work though sometimes it has its rewards. Last month, while working on a well in Logan County, Oklahoma, completion unit owner Juan cooked shrimp, beef and sausage fajitas for everyone. They were, I can attest, wonderful.
Eric'sWeb

Juan and his wok

Wildfire

Juan's Crew

Fajitas on Plastic

Spectacular Wildfire Sunset

Eric's Magic Moonflowers Reemerge

2011-07-23T01:46:00.001-05:00

Eric's Magic Moonflowers, July 2011

As is much of the rest of the country, Oklahoma is in the throes of a major drought and heat wave. I wouldn’t complain, except I read somewhere that, as Americans, we have the absolute right, nay, the duty to carp about the weather. Not that difficult when you’re trying to fit in your daily walk and it’s still ninety degrees at midnight.

My new motto is “embrace the discomfort.” Not that it provides much protection from the heat, but at least it’s a strategy. Not everything is going badly. My magic moonflowers are blooming again for the first time since 2007.

My mom died in 2007 and Marilyn insists that she hexed the moonflowers. When my parents lived here with us, starting in 2005, the vines behind my swimming pool teemed nightly with fragrant and beautiful moonflowers. Moonflowers only bloom at night, and only for one night. Still, we’d have seventy to ninety blossoms every night. This year’s moonflower crop began blooming on the 14th, the day before July’s full moon.

I don’t know if Mom hexed the moonflowers or why she would have hexed them. I suspect other causes. Whatever hexed them apparently expired because I counted seven blossoms tonight. The blossoms aren’t as full and fragrant as in years past. With this weather, how could they be? I’m just glad they’re back.

Eric'sWeb

Author Eric Wilder Inks Publishing Agreement with Turkish Publisher

2011-07-18T23:32:00.001-05:00

Edmond, OK, July 18, 2011

Turkish publisher ARVO BASIM YAYIN has reached an agreement with author Eric Wilder to republish four of his novels, beginning in September 2011.

ABY will translate the books into Turkish, a language spoken by eighty-three million people, worldwide. The first translation will be A Gathering of Diamonds. ABY will print one-thousand initial copies and also release the the ebook version in Turkey. Diamonds will be followed by Ghost of a Chance, Big Easy and Morning Mist of Blood.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Backyard

2011-07-17T01:37:00.000-05:00

Mama Mulate lives in a lower-middle class neighborhood in New Orleans, not far from the Mississippi River. A jungle of garden plants covers her front porch, banana palms and dieffenbachia, melding with the fragrance of bougainvilleas draping from the ceiling in wicker baskets.

Pink hibiscus blossoms and purple morning glories cram the well-tended beds beside the small porch, a small vegetable garden growing on the side of the house. They only provide a clue as to what is behind the ten-foot stockade fence surrounding Mama’s house.

When you walk out the back door, you find yourself on a multi-tiered redwood deck that encompasses a thousand, or more, square feet. Wind chimes, Japanese lanterns and voodoo vevers hang from the rafters over the covered portion of the deck.

Mama’s backyard is a landscaped work of art. Cobbled paths pass pools of koi, rock and water hyacinth. Mirlitons and moonflowers climb the back fence. She grows vegetables and herbs in her raised beds.

A Tulane University English professor, Mama often hosts poetry and book readings in her backyard, her students enthralled by the music of Billie Holiday, piped from hidden speakers. A botanist, herbalist, practitioner of Vodoun, and one wonderful Creole cook, no one ever leaves hungry, either physically or spiritually.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Creole Catfish Bites - a weekend recipe

2011-07-09T14:16:00.001-05:00

Mama Mulate has a natural connection with her Tulane English students, often hosting poetry readings and literary events at her home in urban New Orleans. When she does, she always provides home cooked delicacies such as her famous Creole catfish bites. Bite into one yourself and you’ll see (and taste) why they’re famous.

Ingredients
• 1 pound catfish fillets, poached
• 6 Tbsp. butter
• ¾ cup flour
• 2 cups milk
• ½ tsp. salt
• ½ tsp. black pepper
• ½ tsp. dry mustard
• ½ tsp. Jamaican allspice, ground
• 1 ½ cups bell pepper, finely chopped
• ½ cup green onions, finely chopped
• ½ tsp. Tabasco
• 1 ½ cups bread crumbs, fresh, plus more for coating Bites
• Vegetable oil for sautéing

Directions
Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan. Add the flour, stirring constantly (2 to 3 minutes). Add the milk slowly, continuing to stir until the cream sauce is thick (10 to 12 minutes). Add salt, pepper, mustard, and allspice, mixing well. Flake the catfish fillets into a bowl. Add the cream sauce and the remaining ingredients, mixing thoroughly. Form bite-sized balls with the fish mixture, coating them with more bread crumbs. In about ½ inch of vegetable oil, gently sauté the bites in a heavy skillet, until they are browned.

Eric'sWeb

Earthly Complexities

2011-07-06T00:30:00.001-05:00

Fresh from the war, I started graduate school at the University of Arkansas. Separated from polite society for almost two years, I was trying desperately to regain some of its social graces. My new thesis advisor, Dr. K, reminded me as much every day.

Dr. K had an idea for a thesis project in the Ouachita Mountains. Arkansas is one of the most geologically diverse areas on earth. Almost every mineral occurs there naturally, and many other minerals are found nowhere else. Dr. K, a brilliant man, was a graduate of Cornell University and to say that I was a bit intimidated by him would be an understatement.

I wasn't the only person returning from Vietnam. There were half a dozen of us, including an ex-Green Beret. Dr. K and I were walking down the hall one day when we came upon Mr. GB, his back to us and obviously in deep thought. When Dr. K tapped him on the shoulder, he wheeled around, coming up with a vicious blow to the good Dr's groin and laying him out on the hallway floor. When Dr. K regained his senses, and his breath, he dragged himself off the floor.

I understood GB's motivation. It took me months to keep from hitting the ground whenever a car backfired near me. Still, I fully expected Dr. K, the chairman of the department of geology, to lower the proverbial boom on the ex-green beret. Instead, he began speaking in a soft, friendly tone.

"I realize where you just came from and how horrible it must have been, but you're back in the States now. I'm going to let what you just did pass this time, but sometime in the future I'm going to tap you on the shoulder. If you ever lay a hand on anyone ever again, for any reason, you will be dismissed from the Arkansas geology department and you won't be welcomed back.

I was with Dr. K the next time he came up on Mr. GB from behind. Believe me when I say, I wouldn't have done what he did. He tapped Mr. GB's shoulder and stood there, waiting for the inevitable reaction. As if in slow motion, Mr. GB bent forward, almost touching the floor, and then began his karate twirl. This time he stopped abruptly before he ever made his turn, his deadly blow pulled before ever making contact. When he saw Dr. K, he began to shake uncontrollably.

Dr. K nodded, smiled slightly and said, "Welcome back to the world."

In southwest Arkansas, just south of the Ouachita Overthrust, is a geologically complex area known only to a few lucky people. Before I ever set foot on the terrain, I got a lesson in life from an amazingly complex person that understood the human heart as well as he knew the heart of the earth.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Cajun Seasoning - a weekend recipe

2011-07-03T23:43:00.000-05:00

Being a voodoo mambo, Mama Mulate knows how to prepare and mix the necessary potions and poultices of her craft. Yes, she’s very good at casting spells and removing hexes. She’s also a wonderful cook and grows her own vegetables and herbs in the garden behind her house. She’s not only good at growing them, she also knows how to use them to make the most wonderful Cajun and Creole dishes. Here is her recipe for Cajun seasoning, a necessity in Cajun and Creole cuisine. Try it, and prepare yourself for the compliments you’ll receive.

Ingredients

• 1 Tbsp Jamaican Allspice, ground
• 1 Tbsp garlic powder
• 1 Tbsp onion powder
• 2 tsp white pepper
• 2 tsp black pepper, ground
• 1 ½ tsp cayenne pepper, ground
• 2 tsp thyme
• ½ tsp oregano
• ½ tsp marjoram

Directions

Store the combined mixture in a small jar.

Eric'sWeb

My Favorite 4th of July

2011-07-03T22:49:00.001-05:00

My Brother Jack was born on July 3rd and he and I loved fireworks. We both wanted to be soldiers and we practiced war our entire childhood. Because of our obsession, my favorite holiday, and my Brother Jack’s, was, and is the Fourth of July. The one I remember best is the first one I can remember.

While growing up in small town Vivian, there were no City ordinances barring the use of fireworks. Every manner of explosives was sold including M-80s and Two-Inchers. Jack and I are both lucky to have all our digits as we later experimented with everything we could strike a match too.

My friend Timmy Jon and I even mixed our own batch of gunpowder and almost burned up the house with it. The first Fourth that I can remember, however, we made do with firecrackers, bottle rockets, sparklers and Roman candles.

On July 4, my mom and dad would buy us about ten dollars worth of fireworks. Ten bucks doesn’t sound like much but you could pop lots of firecrackers for that amount in the sixties. We always began the fireworks as soon as it was dark enough.
I don’t remember my age but I was old enough to feel the excitement of impending danger. With our dad’s help, we began lighting sparklers, popping firecrackers and launching one bottle rocket after another. We soon got down to the good stuff.
‘Hold it in the air and shake it,” My dad directed as he lit my first-ever Roman candle.

I can still remember the percussion and slight recoil as incandescent flame burst from the coiled-paper barrel of the explosive device. I could not count at the time but I had a seat-of-the-pants feel for how many fiery rounds the candle contained. When it was over, I held the warm rod in my hand, inhaling acrid smoke and burned powder - an odor I will never forget.

My redheaded Brother Jack was next at bat and he had mischief in mind before my dad ever lit the candle’s fuse. My mother was standing behind us in the open door of our house. Soon as the candle started spitting fire, Jack began pointing it at anything that caught his fancy - a tree, the family car, me, and finally toward the open door of the house.

Dodging the oncoming fireball, my mom screamed and jumped off the porch. Jack put at least three fireballs through the house, luckily catching nothing on fire. When he finally threw down the spent Roman candle my dad just shook his head, grabbed the remaining fireworks and walked into the house. Mom followed him, but not before unloading verbally on Jack.

Mom and Dad did not say much about the incident, giving Brother Jack the benefit of the doubt in believing that inexperience and lack of good sense caused the accident. After living in close proximity to him until I was fifteen, I know better. He went to sleep that night giggling about scaring my Mom and Dad and getting away with it.

The 4th of July means a lot more to me than just fireworks and hot dogs and we should all reflect on the sacrifices this wonderful holiday immortalizes. Still, my favorite holiday remains July 4 and the one I remember best is the first one that I can remember.

Eric'sWeb

Ernest Hemingway's Achievement

2011-07-01T00:36:00.000-05:00

Hemingway Article

Oklahoma Sunset - a pic

2011-06-30T16:02:00.000-05:00

Oklahoma Sunset

Mama Mulate’s Salade de Crevettes d'Orange - a weekend recipe

2011-06-26T01:29:00.001-05:00

Mama Mulate is a character in my French Quarter murder mystery Big Easy. Being a voodoo mambo, she is deft at preparing magical potions and enchanted concoctions. She’s also a great cook and here’s her recipe for a wonderful summer salad.

Ingredients

• 1 lb. large shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 1 Tbsp. orange peel, dried and ground
• 1 Tbsp. paprika
• ½ cup brown sugar
• 1 oz. lime juice, fresh
• 2/3 cup olive oil
• 4 plum tomatoes, diced
• 1 cucumber, diced
• 1 small red onion, chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 Tbsp. cilantro, chopped
• 1 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
• 1 Tbsp. Triple Sec

Preparation

In a large bowl, combine orange peel, paprika and brown sugar. Toss the shrimp in the mixture, shaking until evenly coated. Sauté shrimp in olive oil. Toss plum tomatoes, cucumber, red onion, bell peppers, and cilantro in a large salad bowl. Whisk together red wine vinegar, remaining olive oil, lime juice and Triple Sec. Top individual salads with shrimp and serve.

Eric'sWeb

A Gathering of Diamonds Free on Amazon

2011-06-07T15:24:00.000-05:00

Please check out my novel A Gathering of Diamonds. It's presently the #5 top mystery/thriller out of more than 15,000 free books. It's also free on Barnes & Noble, Sony and Kobo.

Eric'sWeb

Still Dancing

2011-06-07T00:38:00.001-05:00

No doubt music has the power to evoke memories and emotions. Fiddling with my computer tonight, I began searching for a lost file. I didn’t find it. I did find several music files I haven’t heard in a while. One of them was the long version (21 + minutes) of Get Ready by Rare Earth. Every time I listen to this song, it returns me to a specific point in time.

The time is 1971, the place, Vietnam. More specifically, I was working as a clerk typist/Jeep driver at the First Team Combat Training Center in Bien Hoa. I hadn’t arrived in Nam as a clerk. Trained as an infantry mortar man, I carried the base plate of an 81 mm mortar with a 1st Cav line company, patrolling the Jolly Trail System, near the Cambodian border.

I don’t know if I’ve told this story—I probably have—of running into a person I’d gone to college with in Monroe, Louisiana. I was on Firebase Buttons, getting supplied to go out to a forward firebase. The supply sergeant, his name slips my mind, a person I’d bowled with in college, asked me to come to his hooch and drink a beer. We sat on his hammock and popped the tops of two Black Labels.

“Wildman,” he said. “This is the hottest AO in Vietnam. You’re replacing a platoon wiped out by friendly fire, a Cobra gunship that came in hot. I wish I had better news for you. I don’t. You’re going to die, or at least be seriously wounded.”

Goddamn it was hot!

Flash forward seven months.

Luck, karma, prayers, whatever, was with me. I survived without a scratch (well, nothing serious) and finally (I was a college graduate) got offered a job as a clerk, back on Firebase Buttons. The gig lasted until the 1st Cav stood down. Many were sent home (if you had ten months in country). I was sent to Bien Hoa.

This brings me to the song. There were no women (at least American women) around. I lived with a bunch of privates and non-coms in a communal barracks. Some of us were white, some black. None of us had much in common except our stay in Nam.

I was a Spec 4 (corporal), the highest I ever advanced. One night, the sergeants called a party. Before it ended, we were all drunk. There wasn’t a single female present at the party. It didn’t matter. We drank, high-fived, and danced like there was no tomorrow.

Tonight, as I listen to Rare Earth, I remember that party.

I danced like there was no tomorrow.

Hey, tonight, forty years later, as I listened to the song again, I’m still dancing.

Eric'sWeb

End of the World Literature - Post-Apocalyptic Fiction

2011-06-06T14:23:00.000-05:00

A very interesting article from AbeBooks.
Post-Apocalyptic Fiction

Eric'sWeb

After the Storm

2011-06-02T22:35:00.000-05:00

After the Storm

Here is wonderful pic of a double rainbow, taken near Noble, Oklahoma.

Eric'sWeb

Vieux Carre Cocktail - a recipe

2011-05-31T23:53:00.000-05:00

Vieux Carré Cocktail

If you’re a writer, don’t move to New Orleans and expect to pen the “Great American Novel.” You’ll probably wind up spending much of your time visiting the hundreds of bars, drinking wonderful cocktails, schmoozing with interesting locals and passing out in all your clothes before you ever keyboard a single word. A scene from my new book-in-progress, City of Spirits, takes place in the Carousel Lounge, located in the Monteleone Hotel on Royal Street, in the French Quarter. Here is a recipe for a drink supposedly invented there. Hey, I don’t write in New Orleans, but I’ve lost a few brain cells sitting at the revolving bar in the Carousel Lounge. And I loved every minute of it.

Ingredients

· ¾ oz Cognac
· ¾ oz rye whiskey
· ¾ oz sweet vermouth
· ¼ oz Benedictine
· dash Peychaud's Bitters
· dash Angostura Bitters

Directions

Stir and strain over rocks, lemon twist garnish

Eric’sWeb

Oklahoma Toadstools Pic

2011-05-31T16:06:00.001-05:00

Spring Toadstools in Oklahoma

Here's a pic I took earlier this spring of Toadstool Kingdom at the base of my cottonwood tree.

Eric'sWeb

The Season of the Supernatural

2011-05-27T08:45:00.001-05:00

Writers are going supernatural this summer with WSJ offering such picks as Robopocalypse, The Last Werewolf and Graveminder. Check out the article with the link below. If you're into supernatural novels (and who isn't?) you might check out Morning Mist of Blood, my new supernatural murder mystery, complete with demons, shape-shifting black panthers, and immortal pagans.
Spooky Summer Reading Picks
Eric'sWeb

Arkansas Novel Free on Smashwords

2011-05-24T10:28:00.000-05:00

An uncut diamond, a missing brother, and a mysterious village hidden deep in the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas. Add in some unexplained murders, a little voodoo, and then get ready for a wild ride. A Gathering of Diamonds, free in all ebook formats on Smashwords.com.
A Gathering of Diamonds

Van Gundy Slams Oklahoma City on ESPN

2011-05-23T22:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, this blog isn't about sports. Still, I'm an Oklahoman and I think this deserves reporting. Tonight, during the OKC Thunder and Dallas Mavericks Western Championship NBA game, ESPN announcer Van Gundy, when the OKC crowd booed yet another bad ref call, said, "There should be a technical against crowds that don't know anything about basketball." Yeah, well maybe there should be a technical against announcers that have an obvious, biased, agenda.
Eric'sWeb

Rules of Publishing are Changing

2011-05-16T14:11:00.000-05:00

Quote from Mark Coker, founder of Smashwords.com. “Authors are the brand.” According to Coker, the ebook revolution has changed the dynamics of publishing. “Some day, published author will no longer mean published by a big NY publisher. Published will equal published on the author's terms, not NY's terms. The readers won't care. Publisher name is less important to them than the name of the author, and whether or not they trust that author to give them a good read. Authors are the brand.”

I say, AMEN TO THAT!!

Eric'sWeb

Blue Norther is # 5 Free Short Story on Amazon

2011-05-14T13:40:00.000-05:00

A philandering husband leaves his beautiful wife and nymphette daughter alone in the midst of a powerful winter storm. When a mysterious stranger appears at the door, he ignites the passions of both mother and daughter. An erotic short story thriller with a surprise ending, by the author of French Quarter murder mystery Big Easy, and Morning Mist of Blood.

Eric'sWeb

Edmond Oklahoma Wild Life

2011-05-10T23:52:00.001-05:00

At least two coyotes live near my Edmond, Oklahoma home. I’ve seen the white coyote on several occasions. Tonight, as I sat on my front porch, a red fox with bushy tail appeared to sample the food left by my cats. Yes, my cats are finicky eaters. Much later, around eleven, I returned to the front porch.

My Calico cat, Buttercup, reminds me a lot of Chani, another calico that lived nineteen years, until old age finally got her. Buttercup, unlike Chani, or her brother Buster, isn’t much of a talker. Like Chani, and not Buster, she will sit in your lap all day—as long as you stroke her and tell her how pretty she is. Tonight, as I was doing just that, Patch, my Australian cow dog began barking.

Marilyn and I have a porch light, one of those coiled thingies that don’t burn much energy. The one we have is very low wattage, so the light was dim. Still, I could see the young coyote in the shadows, hungry, but reticent to show himself, or herself (I couldn’t really tell). This animal was red, but a foot taller than the fox I’d seen earlier. The wild pup ran behind some shrubbery but was obviously still close because Patch’s barking never ceased. I decided to try something radical.

I whistled, and then called to the animal. “Come here, Red. I won’t hurt you.”

Soon, the curious animal appeared from behind the shrubbery. Even though I was in plain sight, a mere ten feet from the cat bowls, Red ate his (or her) fill, although keeping a close eye on me the entire time. He knew I was there because I talked to him (or her), keeping up a friendly banter until he (or she) finished eating, glanced at me as if to say thanks, and then disappeared, back into to the darkness.

It’s only May. I’ll keep my trusty digital camera ready. Maybe even get a shot of the elusive beast. Yes, Red is a coyote. Of that I have no doubt. Stay tuned. I may soon have a new family member.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Grilled Catfish with Pineapple Salsa - a weekend recipe

2011-05-07T12:21:00.000-05:00

Originally from Arkansas, Texas oil man Big Billy loved catfish and had a hundred different ways of preparing and cooking it. He also liked to grill outdoors, drinking beer and telling oil stories (all true, by the way) while he cooked. Here is one of his favorite—and simple—ways to grill and serve catfish. For some of his stories, you’ll have to check out his Little Texas Cookbook.

Ingredients (Catfish)

• 4 catfish fillets

• 2 tsp olive oil

• 1 tsp garlic salt

• ½ tsp black pepper, cracked

• ¼ tsp red pepper, ground

Ingredients (Pineapple Salsa)

• 1 c pineapple, fresh, peeled and diced

• ¼ cup red onion, diced

• 1 c red bell pepper, diced

• 2 Tbsp cilantro leaves, fresh, chopped

• 2 tsp jalapeno pepper, fresh, minced

• 2 Tbsp lime juice, fresh

• ½ tsp salt

• Black pepper, freshly ground, to taste

Directions

(Catfish) Rinse fillets and pat dry. Brush with olive oil, combine ingredients and sprinkle on rounded side. On a pre-heated grill, cook on high heat, rounded side down for 3 to 4 minutes, flip the fillets and continue cooking for another 3 to 4 minutes or until fish flakes easily with a fork.

(Pineapple Salsa) Combine all ingredients and set aside until catfish is grilled, then spoon the salsa on the fillets and serve.

Eric'sWeb

Mystery in Arkansas

2011-05-06T23:06:00.001-05:00

I learned to read at an early age, and soon began enjoying books. We had a tiny, one-room town library in Vivian and Mrs. Files—I kid you not—was the librarian. The library had little or no budget but Mrs. Files always found an inexpensive way to keep our interest in reading high.

During the summer, she would mimeograph diagrams of the United States, or some such imaginative illustration. Whenever we read a book, she would give us a gold star for one of the states. The person with the most gold stars at the end of the summer got a five-dollar bill, which, I now feel sure, Mrs. Files contributed herself.

I liked mysteries from the time I was very young, books with heroes like Freddy the Pig and Miss Pickerel. As I grew older, I found I also liked a little adventure tossed in. I read everything I could find by Jules Verne, H. Rider Haggard and Edgar Rice Burroughs, so it was natural that when I began writing, I wrote stories that combined the two genres. If you have the need to label everything, I guess you could call them mys-ventures.

Growing up, I also loved history and have always wondered what happened to the ill-fated colony of Roanoke. It would seem with all our technology that we should be able to find the answer. Alas, this is not the case.

I have visited many wild and wooly places in my life but few as wild and remote as the deepest forests hidden in the ancient Ouachita Mountains of central Arkansas. I realized as much while working on my geological master’s thesis in Sevier County.

I remain entranced by the geologic mystery of the area and feel that central Arkansas is one of the top ten geologic wonders of the world. To me, it bears the same mystery and intrigue as Haggard’s vision of darkest Africa, or Burrough’s Pellucidar. Arkansas is also the only place in the United States with diamonds found at their source.

Not only are the Ouachita Mountains lush with mystery, intrigue and danger, their deep valleys and sharp peaks conceal limitless wealth in diamonds and many other valuable minerals. It seemed a perfect place for a mystery/adventure tale, and became the location for my novel A Gathering of Diamonds.

When I wrote A Gathering of Diamonds, I stole many ideas from masters such as Haggard, Burroughs, and yes-even Cussler. I also managed to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the Roanoke Colony, at least in my own fictional mind.

Many moons have passed since those days in Vivian’s little library. Mrs. Files is no longer around to read any of my books. If she were, I am sure that she would smile, pat me on the shoulder, and give me a gold star. That thought makes me very happy.

Eric'sWeb

Eric Wilder Ebook Bargains on Smashwords

2011-05-04T13:59:00.002-05:00

Two ebook mini-mysteries, Prairie Thunder and Pontchartrain, are free on Smashwords.com.

Prairie Thunder: When a redneck sheriff jumps to a conclusion about who murdered an American Indian artist, Buck McDivit takes matters into his own hands to save an innocent man's life. A mini-mystery by Eric Wilder, author of the Buck McDivit murder mysteries, Ghost of a Chance and Morning Mist of Blood. About 3,100 words. FREE

Check out Prairie Thunder on Smashwords

Pontchartrain: Home of some of the best cooking in the world, New Orleans has a dirty little secret: The people of the venerable city love fried food as much gumbo. At a restaurant on Pontchartrain Lake, where Margaritas and fried catfish are the stars of the menu, someone is starting fires. Gumshoe Wyatt Thomas must find out who, or die trying. A New Orleans mini-mystery by Eric Wilder, author of the French Quarter murder mystery Big Easy. About 8,900 words. FREE

Check out Pontchartrain on Smashwords

Dollar-off Coupon for Voodoo Nights on Smashwords

2011-04-29T22:52:00.000-05:00

Ten French Quarter mini-mysteries featuring New Orleans' favorite sleuth Wyatt Thomas. Gumshoe Thomas is joined by voodoo mambo Mama Mulate, Cajun bartender Bertram Picou, NOPD homicide detective Tony Nicosia, and many other denizens of the Big Easy. Join them for tales of lust, murder and voodoo in the world's most interesting city. $2.99.

If you’re an ebook reader, please check it out on Smashwords and save a buck.

Promotional price on Smashwords: $1.99
Coupon Code: EB43D (not case sensitive)
All ebook formats
Expires: May 29, 2011

Eric’sWeb

Caddo Lake Green Tomato Relish - a weekend recipe

2011-04-23T14:26:00.001-05:00

Caddo Lake is the largest natural lake in Texas. The lake’s history is as diverse as pearls and steamboats, and Caddo remains one of the most beautiful and mysterious lakes in the entire United States.

My Dad was born in Trees City, once a boomtown a few miles from Vivian. Jeems Bayou separates Vivian and Trees. During heavy rains in the area, it will result in water rising over the highway, leaving a boat the only way to get to Trees City from Vivian.

I remember, as a kid, fishing from the side of the road. My parents, Grandmother and I were not the only ones, hundreds of others joining in to reap the harvest of fish from the fabled lake.

There were always fishing camps both on the Texas and Louisiana sides of the lake. These camps would have a ramp for launching boats, and would rent boats, and sell bait, fishing gear and pop. Each camp usually had a restaurant where the locals went for catfish, hushpuppies and Cole slaw.

Kool Point, near Oil City, no longer has a restaurant but Pelican Lodge, not far from Trees City is still open. I always love eating at Pelican Lodge when I visit Vivian. It is far off the beaten path and only the locals really know where it is. One condiment all of these restaurants serve is green tomato relish. It is probably best prepared in large batches, and then canned (bottled) but here is a recipe for a single batch, suitable for one dinner.

Caddo Lake Green Tomato Relish

Ingredients

• 3 green tomatoes, large, rough chopped

• 1 onion, large, rough chopped

• 1 hot green pepper, chopped

• 1/3 c sugar

• 2 Tbsp salt

• 1 c vinegar

Directions

In a small pot, bring the sugar, salt and vinegar to a boil, and then add vegetables. Return contents of the pot to a boil for two minutes. Chill and enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Something Terrible

2011-04-23T01:09:00.001-05:00

Years ago, I wrote a short story called Prairie Justice. I had almost forgotten the story and found it again, recently, while deleting unnecessary files from my computer. As I reread and reedited the story, details of why I wrote it in the first place flooded my brain.

The year was 1995. During April of that year, a madman blew up the Alfred P. Murrah Building, killing 168 innocent victims, including many children in daycare there. Anne, my wife then, was a fledgling lawyer, having gone to law school late in life (mid-forties). She partnered with Becky S., and we were about to move into our new offices when the bomb exploded.

I had returned home from an early-morning dentist’s appointment. I found Anne sobbing uncontrollably.

I was puzzled because Anne was a trooper. Despite all the bad things that had happened to us, I don’t recall having ever seen her cry. When I saw her that morning, she was crying like a baby.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something terrible has happened.”

We turned on the TV to a local news station. Their helicopter was heading downtown to check out an explosion that had rocked the City.

“There’s lots of smoke coming from one of the buildings. I think it’s the Federal Building,” the chopper pilot said.

A camera man was taking pictures. Except for the smoke, the front of the building looked normal. We watched as the chopper circled around the building. When the camera focused on what remained of the north side of the building, Anne and I gasped in disbelief.

“Oh my God!” the pilot said. “Oh my God!”

Days passed, and then weeks. The bombing was like a blow to the head for the entire City. It became all to common to be talking to someone, and suddenly have them dissolve into tears, blurting out some heart-wrenching story they’d kept bottled inside for far too long. Everyone had a story. Everyone was affected.

Shortly after the bombing, Becky sent Anne to interview a deadbeat, druggie client that had been put in jail for beating his wife.

“You may think he’s scum, but he deserves his day in court. He’s your client so treat him with respect, no matter how you feel about him in your heart,” Becky counseled.

Anne and I left Oklahoma City early one morning, heading west to El Reno, the Canadian County seat. I can’t even remember why we stopped there, but Iremember the courthouse facilities and the historic town well. Leaving El Reno, we passed a Las Vegas-style bingo hall in nearby Concho. Gambling was in its infancy in Oklahoma. Sixteen years later, it’s rampant.

We drove through the tiny town of Okarche, to Eischen’s Bar. The longest continuously operating bar in Oklahoma was shut down at the time because of a flash fire. We made it to Enid shortly before lunch, finding the correction’s facility ensconsced in an old neighborhood.

The jailers brought Doug (that was his first name) into a visitor’s room, wearing an orange jump suit, shackled in leg irons, hand cuffs and a belly chain. I watched from a distance as Anne talked with him for about half an hour. Wearing her own shackles of lawyer/client privilege, she never told me what they talked about.

Later that night, I wrote Prairie Justice, a short story featuring Buck McDivit, a character that had suddenly invaded my mind. The story is about a crooked oil man and mirrors a real oil man responsible for the bankruptcy of the oil company Anne and I started from scratch. Most of the description in the story actually occurred.

Years have passed since I wrote Prairie Justice. Anne died three years after the Murrah bombing. I wrote Ghost of a Chance, my first Buck McDivit novel, some years later. It was published in 2005. The scar of the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombing has faded. As I wrote this story, tears streamed down my face. Buck McDivit is now a real person to me.The Murrah Building scar has faded, and people no longer sob during normal conversation. Maybe, but the bombing still rests like a red blotch on my soul, as I’m sure it does for everyone that experienced that sad day.

Barnes & Noble

Gondwana Press Releases Eric Wilder's First Novel as Ebook

2011-04-22T11:57:00.001-05:00

Gondwana Press has released Eric Wilder's Ghost of a Chance in eBook format. The novel features cowboy detective Buck McDivit in a mystery set on a lonely island in Caddo Lake, the largest natural lake in Texas. The full-length mystery is available in all eBook formats for 99 cents. Read Ghost of a Chance and check out all the adventure, romance and mystery in Book 1 of the Buck McDivit Mystery Series.

Amazon-Kindle

Barnes & Noble-Nook

Smashwords-All formats

Last Fire of Winter - free verse poem by Kelli Novakowsky

2011-04-17T22:53:00.005-05:00

Facing the facade of my fireplace. The logs I fetched burn. My skin would be tan if I were facing the sun. The fire warms me like summer's sun. I observe life differently. I realize burning the logs gives me more time to experience life with pleasure. I lie down, I sit up I roll over, like I did when I was young and I tanned in the sun. I fantasize about a beach, a lover. Thank You fire, whether you are from burning logs or sun.

Eric'sWeb

Marilyn's Jalapeno Cornbread - a weekend recipe

2011-04-17T00:50:00.000-05:00

Cornbread is a staple for every good southern cook. When it comes to making cornbread, few can compete with my own wife, and wonderful southern cook, Marilyn. Here is her cornbread recipe using jalapenos, her daughter Shannon’s favorite.
Ingredients

• 2 ½ c cornmeal

• 1 c flour

• 2 Tbsp. sugar

• 1 Tbsp. salt

• 4 tsp. baking powder

• 3 eggs, lightly beaten

• 1 ½ c milk

• ½ c cooking oil

• 16 oz. can cream corn

• 2 jalapeno chili peppers, chopped and seeded

• 2 c sharp cheddar cheese, grated

• 1 onion, large, grated

Directions

Combine first five ingredients in a bowl. In another bowl, mix milk, eggs and cooking oil, and then combine with cornmeal mixture. Stir in remaining ingredients, and then pour into two well greased baking pans. Bake at 425° for 25 minutes, or until done.

Eric'sWeb

Ghosts of Caddo Lake - pics

2011-04-16T12:52:00.001-05:00

Broken Pier, Caddo Lake near Uncertain, Texas

Ghost Trees near Trees City, Louisiana

Ghost Pier, Caddo Lake near Pelican Lodge

Los Angeles Literary Pub Crawl, February, 2010, Suggested Drinks

2011-04-11T00:49:00.000-05:00

Eric'sWeb

Eric Wilder - Wild Turkey and Water

Big Billy's Texas Pintos with Tomatillo Salsa Verde - a weekend recipe

2011-04-09T19:29:00.000-05:00

Big Billy loved his beans. Once when he was staying with me and Anne, he cooked up pinto beans, complete with his special tomatillo salsa Verde. He also whipped up a pan of cornbread using ingredients he found in our pantry. To say the meal was wonderful is an understatement. It was sublime!

Ingredients

• 1 lb dry pinto beans

• 29 oz chicken broth

• 1 onion, large, chopped

• 1 jalapeno pepper, chopped

• 3 cloves garlic, minced

• ½ c tomatillo salsa Verde

• 1 tsp cumin

• ½ tsp black pepper, ground

• 1 c water

Directions
Soak beans overnight in a large pot with ample cold water. Drain and place the pinto beans in a crock pot. Pour in the chicken broth and water. Stir in onion, jalapeno, garlic, tomatillo salsa Verde, cumin, and black pepper. Cook for 8 hours.

Eric'sWeb

Gathering of Diamonds Book Trailer

2011-04-04T00:27:00.007-05:00

Big Billy’s Tomatillo Salsa Verde - a weekend recipe

2011-04-02T16:36:00.000-05:00

Big Billy’s green sauce was to die for, and goes well with many dishes. Here is his special recipe with tomatillos.

Ingredients

• 1 lb tomatillos, husked

• ½ c onion, finely chopped

• 1 tsp garlic, minced

• 2 Poblano peppers, minced

• 2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped

• 1 Tbsp oregano, chopped, fresh

• ½ tsp cumin, ground

• 1 ½ tsp salt, or to taste

• 1 Lime, juiced

Directions

Place all ingredients in a blender. Puree until smooth. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer about 15 minutes.

Eric'sWeb

Grunt

2011-03-28T21:19:00.001-05:00

I was at the barber’s the other day. The barber shop, located in a strip shopping center near my office, is part of a national chain. The barbers don’t seem to stay around long. They always do a credible job, although I’ve only had the same hair cutter on one or two occasions. This time, my hair cutter was an older man of Vietnamese heritage.

After inquiring how I wanted my hair cut, he asked if I had been in the armed services. I told him that I had.

“Navy or Air Force?”

“No, I was in the Army.”

He asked if I served in Vietnam and smiled when I told him I had.

“What did you do there?”

Tiny hairs on back of my neck abruptly rose at his question. The last time I was in a barber’s chair with a Vietnamese barber was on the Army base in Bien Hoa, South Vietnam. Even though I knew the man was friendly, I had a difficult time not reacting when he shaved me with a straight razor. After all, the Vietnamese were our enemy, and I couldn’t help but fret that the man so close to my jugular vein with a straight razor might be a barber by day and Viet Cong by night.

“Infantry,” I answered.

“Oh, what weapon did you carry?”

“M60 machinegun,” I said.

“Then you weren’t an officer.”

“No, a private.”

“When were you there?” he asked.

I had to think a minute before answering, “Parts of 1970 and 1971.”

“I was an officer from 1971 to 1975,” he said, still not offering if it was for the North or the South. “Where were you in Vietnam?”

“We operated in triple canopy jungle off of Firebase Betty, not far from the Cambodian border. At least during the six months or so I spent as a grunt patrolling the Jolly Trail System. Later, I got a job as a company clerk on Firebase Buttons, near Song Be. Did you lose friends or family in the war?”

“My family survived. I lost a few close friends. I was drafted into the Army after two years of college. Following the war, I was imprisoned for three years. When I got out, I escaped the country on a boat. The journey took fourteen days and there were many of us on board.”

“I’m glad you made it,” I said. “Sounds like you should write a book.”

“A book, yes,” he said, smiling, his accent making his words hard to understand. “America lost many men—58,000.”

“Vietnam lost 1,500,000 people,” I said.

“Yes, from both the North and South.”

The half-grin on his face looked contrived, almost as if he were trying to keep from crying.

“No one even remembers the war anymore,” I added. “It was a senseless conflict. I didn’t believe in it, even then, and that’s why I refused to be an officer.”

“I hate war,” he said. “I worry about our involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

After dusting loose hair off my shoulders, he led me to the cash register, nodding when I said, “Nice talking to you.”

As I walked out the door, I realized we’d never exchanged names.

I was shaking when I reached my car. More than forty years have passed since boarding a jet plane leaving Vietnam. I’d almost forgotten. Funny how old memories come flooding back when you least expect them.

Eric'sWeb

The story above really happened. Some of my Vietnam stories were fictionalized in my novel A Gathering of Diamonds. Tom Logan, a Vietnam vet suffering from PTSD, battles his demons as he participates in an epic adventure and the romance of his life, high in the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas.

Ghost of a Chance Revisited - a trip to Caddo Lake

2011-03-22T13:16:00.003-05:00

I grew up in the sleepy little northwest Louisiana town of Vivian, a few miles from Caddo Lake. Caddo, as many of you may know, is the largest natural lake in Texas. It also crosses the state line into Louisiana. The lake is, quite simply, one of the most mysterious spots on Earth. Giant cypress trees with bloated trunks and branches draped with Spanish moss, grow in dark water, and the place is alive with garfish, gators and colorful waterfowl. Caddo stretches for miles, through endless canebrakes and hidden pools, so large and winding that even the United States doesn't have an accurate map.

The first offshore oil well was drilled from a wooden platform in Caddo Lake. These tiny structures still dot the water, some converted to duck blinds, while slow moving pumping units occupy others, sipping oil from a subsurface anticline called the Sabine Uplift.

Caddo Indians once occupied the area. Legend has it the lake was formed by a monster earthquake. When the Tribe's powerful chief had a dream, he awoke his people up in the middle of the night, moving them to safety. Next morning, as the story goes, Caddo Lake had formed following the earthquake, possibly the New Madrid Earthquake, the most powerful ever felt in the United States - so powerful, the Mississippi River flowed backwards for two days. I don't know if the old Chief's prophesy was true, but it's a fact that the area is littered with shards of broken pottery, arrowheads and other artifacts.

Caddo Indian's aren't the only history makers at Caddo Lake. Potter's Point was the home of Robert Potter, a Texas hero, along with Sam Houston, and the primary influence for the historical novel Love is a Wild Assault (wonderful! Out of print. Grab a copy if you can find one). Nearby Uncertain, Texas is a great place to visit. The model for my fictional town Deception, Uncertain was an overnight stop for riverboats on their way up from New Orleans

One of the riverboats that plied the waterways from New Orleans to Jefferson, Texas was the Mittie Stephens. It caught fire and sank one night, reportedly loaded with a fortune in gold to pay Confederate troops stationed in Jefferson. Neither the boat nor the gold has ever been found.

Buck McDivit, my cowboy gumshoe from Oklahoma, comes to east Texas to meet his only known relative. His Aunt Emma is murdered before he gets there. He soon learns he has inherited an island in Caddo Lake, along with a marina and fishing lodge. This is when his troubles begin.

Many things haven't changed in the Old South. Racism still abounds in Deception, led by racist judge Jefferson Travis, and his two skinhead reprobates Humpback and Deacon John. Buck also meets beautiful Lila Richardson and is instantly enamored. Oh, and he gets drunk and sees a ghost his first night in town.

Ghost of a Chance is now available for the first time in ebook form. It's available, complete with new cover and newly edited, 71,000 words, at Amazon.com (Kindle version) and Smashwords.com (Nook, Sony Reader, Kindle, etc.) for the ridiculously low price of $1.29.

If you have an e-reader, please check out Ghost of a Chance. If you don't, loosen up and buy one. If you're an avid reader, you'll be glad you did.

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Creole Zucchini Casserole - a weekend recipe

2011-03-20T14:03:00.001-05:00

Mama Mulate is a character in my French Quarter murder mystery Big Easy. When she’s not mixing voodoo potions, or teaching English at Tulane University, she’s likely in her kitchen, whipping up a meal fit for a Mardi Gras king. She has a garden behind her house near the river in New Orleans, where she grows her own herbs and vegetables. Check out her recipe for Creole zucchini.

Ingredients

• 2 zucchini squashes, ¼ inch slices

• 1 onion, chopped

• 2 cloves garlic

• 3 tomatoes, chopped

• 1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped

• 3 Tbsp butter

• 2 Tbsps flour

• 1 Tbsp brown sugar

• ¼ tsp oregano

• ¼ tsp basil

• 1 bay leaf

• ¼ tsp salt

• ½ cup Parmesan cheese, freshly grated

• ½ cup bread crumbs

Directions

Cook zucchini (about 5 minutes) until tender, but firm. Drain and arrange in greased 2 quart casserole dish. Melt butter over medium heat in medium saucepan, and add flour. Stir until smooth and bubbly.

Add tomatoes, onion, and cloves of garlic, green bell pepper, brown sugar, salt, bay leaf, oregano and basil. Cook for 5 or 6 minutes. Remove bay leaf and cloves of garlic. Pour mixture over zucchini. Top with bread crumbs and cheese. Bake, uncovered, at 350° for 30 minutes.

Eric'sWeb

Ides of March

2011-03-14T22:43:00.000-05:00

Seer
Beware the Ides of March.

Caesar
Well, the Ides of March have come.

Seer
Ay, they have come, but they are not gone.

Eric'sWeb

Life on Earth

2011-03-14T22:35:00.000-05:00

It's no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense - M. Twain

Eric'sWeb

Archimede's Last Breath

2011-03-14T22:30:00.000-05:00

The last breath expelled by Archimedes before he died has supposedly mixed and remixed so perfectly that every time anyone on earth takes a breath, that person is breathing at least a single molecule of the same air that Archimedes last breathed. What is the significance of this fact? Nuclear contamination and radiation, no matter how contained, will eventually affect every living being on the face of the earth. Ask the Finns about what happened after Chernobyl.

Eric'sWeb

Nuclear Meltdown

2011-03-13T20:47:00.000-05:00

Natural disaster in Japan results in meltdown at two nuclear reactors. It reminded me of the Chernobyl disaster that occurred in 1986 - a disaster resulting in short-term heartbreak and long-term heartache. Chernobyl/Concrete Sarcophagus is a short story I wrote in 1986. It's short, less than 3,000 words, but still manages to address such diverse issues as marital infidelity, parental preference, the Soviet Union's involvement in Afghanistan, Nazis, bravery and untimely death. 99 cents on Amazon.com.

Eric'sWeb

Read an Ebook Week

2011-03-07T22:34:00.000-06:00

This is Read an Ebook Week, and all my ebooks are steeply discounted on Smashwords.com. That's not all! Many of the ebooks on the site are also steeply discounted. All ebook formats are supported, including Sony, Kindle and Nook. So much traffic today that it briefly crashed the site. If you are a reader, and you like ebooks, check it out for a once-a-year bargain hunt.

Eric'sWeb

Marching in the Venus Parade

2011-03-06T20:56:00.000-06:00

As a freshman in college during the 60’s, I joined a precision marching group called the Fusileers. The college I attended required two years of ROTC and the national paranoia concerning Vietnam hadn’t yet begun to set in. Besides, we got to do some neat things like take trips to Mardi Gras and march in parades.

In 1965 I went with the Fusileers to New Orleans to march in the Venus Parade. Although I did not know it at the time, Venus is one of the older Krewes, or carnival clubs. Our group spent the night at Jackson Barracks, an old army post on the Mississippi River named after Andy Jackson.

The night before the parade most of us left the barracks on foot in groups of five or six and made our way toward Bourbon Street. My group stopped at a neighborhood bar and drank Regal Beer for twelve cents a glass and sampled the gumbo. We made it to Bourbon Street around dark.

Much time has passed since then and even the best memories fade. As I remember it, open containers of alcohol were legal. I bought a fifth of Early Times at a drug store a block or so from Bourbon Street. Most of us got separated in the throngs of people crowding the French Quarter. John T, the last member of the Fusileers that I’d arrived in the Quarter with disappeared down Conti, towing a college girl he’d just met.

I found my own college girl but we were separated in the crowd pushing shoulder-to-shoulder in two directions, up and down Bourbon Street—though not before a jealous suitor sucker-punched me and broke my only pair of glasses. Somehow I made it back to Jackson Barracks before the midnight curfew and stayed up all night reading the Terry Southern classic Candy.

Mardi Gras that year was my first taste of Carnival, crazy and surreal, and I lapped it up, maybe because I viewed it through tired, near-sighted, hung-over eyes. Even though my feet hurt like hell after the seven mile parade that lasted six hours or so I would gladly have done it again. Soon after the trip, things got worse in Vietnam.

John T dropped out of school, was drafted, sent to Vietnam and dead within the year - one of the war’s many victims. I didn’t sign up for a third year of ROTC and quickly forgot my childhood dreams of becoming a soldier. I had my face rubbed in my childhood dreams when I was drafted shortly after graduation and I quickly learned the truth about the old saying, “don’t wish too hard for anything. It might come true.”

Eric'sWeb

Mama Mulate's Voodoo Dipping Sauce - a Mardi Gras recipe

2011-03-05T00:34:00.000-06:00

Mardi Gras Day, or Fat Tuesday, is this coming Tuesday. Six Carnivals since Katrina, the Crescent City will be rocking. Voodoo mambo Mama Mulate can mix a potion for anything from growing hair to casting an undying spell of love. She’s also a great cook.

One of Mama’s favorite Mardi Gras finger foods is Cajun Chicken Fingers, a lightly-breaded delicacy you can’t eat just one of. Along with her chicken fingers, she makes the meanest dipping sauce in the universe. Here is the secret recipe for her famous Voodoo Dipping Sauce. Don’t tell her I gave it to you, or she’s liable to make a certain bodily part of mine shrivel up and fall off. P.S.- read more about Mama Mulate in my new ebook Voodoo Nights.

Mama Mulate’s Voodoo Dipping Sauce

Ingredients

• ½ cup cold water

• 1 t cornstarch

• ¼ cup honey

• 2 T green onions, thinly sliced

• ½ green pepper, small, thinly sliced

• 1 T lemon juice

• 4 t prepared Dijon-style mustard

• ¼ t onion powder

Directions

Place water in a medium saucepan, and mix in cornstarch to dissolve. Stir in honey. Heat to boiling, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and simmer until sauce thickens, about 15 minutes. Remove sauce from heat. Stir in green onions, lemon juice, prepared Dijon-style mustard, onion powder and green pepper. Serve warm or chill in the refrigerator. Happy Mardi Gras, and laissez les bons temps rouler!!

Eric'sWeb

Gondwana Press Publishes French Quarter Short Stories

2011-02-26T22:13:00.000-06:00

Hey, please check out my new ebook, available at Amazon and Smashwords. French Quarter mini-mysteries featuring New Orleans' favorite sleuth Wyatt Thomas. Gumshoe Thomas is joined by voodoo mambo Mama Mulate, Cajun bartender Bertram Picou, NOPD homicide detective Tony Nicosia, and many other denizens of the Big Easy. Join them for tales of lust, murder and voodoo in the world's most interesting city.

Eric'sWeb

Cities of the Dead - a Wyatt Thomas Mini-mystery

2011-02-24T15:15:00.000-06:00

Before writing Big Easy, I wrote ten short stories involving Wyatt Thomas, Mama Mulate, Bertram Picou, and Tony Nicosia. Cities of the Dead is one of these stories. A wealthy Mississippi businessman approaches Wyatt to help him locate his mother's grave. A night excursion into St. Louis Cemetery #1, and visit to voodoo queen Marie Laveau's grave, ensues. No trip to New Orleans is complete without visiting at least some of the gothic, above-ground crypts made so famous by Anne Rice's vampire novels. If a trip to the Big Easy isn't in your immediate plans, read Cities of the Dead instead, and take that trip in your imagination. The Kindle version is available on Amazon for 99 cents, and in every other format at Smashwords.com for the same price.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Italiano Baked Shrimp - an early weekend recipe

2011-02-18T21:17:00.000-06:00

Here is one of Big Billy’s favorite dishes. No, he wasn’t of Italian ancestry, but he sure knew how to cook their signature delicacies. This is one he made his own.

Ingredients

• 2 lbs shrimp, cooked and deveined

• 3 Tbsp olive oil

• 4 green onions, chopped

• 4 stalks celery, chopped

• 1 green pepper, chopped

• 3 garlic cloves, crushed

• 1 Tbsp parsley, fresh, finely minced

• 1 Tbsp cornstarch

• 1 8 oz can tomato sauce

• ½ tsp oregano

• ½ tsp sweet basil

• Salt and pepper to taste

• 1 c Mozzarella cheese, grated

• ½ c bread crumbs, seasoned

Directions

In a saucepan, sauté onions, celery, green pepper, garlic and parsley in olive oil until soft. Add cornstarch and stir until well blended. Add tomato sauce, oregano and sweet basil and simmer for fifteen minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. Layer the shrimp, and the tomato mixture in a greased casserole dish. Top with Mozzarella and bread crumbs and cook at 350 degrees until bubbly, about thirty minutes.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Sour Cream Enchiladas - a weekend recipe

2011-02-06T00:45:00.000-06:00

Big Billy loved to entertain and he loved football. He almost always hosted rowdy guests for the Super bowl, oftentimes cooking up a one-dish meal. This is one that always pleased, and always will.

Ingredients

• 2 lbs shrimp, cooked, deveined and diced

• 2 Tbsp butter

• 1 onion, chopped

• 1 garlic clove, finely minced

• 16 oz tomatoes, chopped and drained

• 8 oz can tomato sauce

• ¼ c chilies, chopped

• 1 tsp cumin

• ½ tsp oregano

• ½ tsp basil

• ½ tsp salt

• 1 pkg tortillas

• 2 ½ c Monterrey Jack cheese

• ¾ c sour cream

Directions

In a saucepan, sauté onion and garlic, in butter, until soft. Add tomatoes, tomato sauce, chilies, spices and salt and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes. Remove from heat.

Dip tortillas in tomato mixture. Put about 2 Tbsp shrimp and 2 Tbsp cheese on each tortilla. Roll and place seam down in a large baking dish.

Blend sour cream with remaining sauce mixture and pour over tortillas. Sprinkle with remaining cheese and bake, covered at 350 degrees until thoroughly heated, about 30 minutes. Serves 6 hungry football fans.

Eric'sWeb

Hot New Erotic Thriller, Morning Mist of Blood.

2011-02-04T23:42:00.000-06:00

Put the kiddos to bed, and then check out Eric Wilder's new erotic thriller Morning Mist of Blood. Definitely not for young adults, Sunday school teachers or the faint of heart. So hot, you might just get burned. If you can't take the heat, please, stay away from the fire.

Eric'sWeb

Snowman - a pic

2011-02-04T20:22:00.000-06:00

Snowman

This past week has been a mess. I'd complain, but it seems everyone is pretty much in the same boat. Heck yes, I'll complain. Doesn't matter because no one listens anyway. Here's a pic I took on my backporch yesterday.

Eric'sWeb

Author, Amazon.com Elbow Aside Middleman

2011-02-02T11:01:00.000-06:00

Traditional author decides he doesn't need his old publisher anymore. With help from Amazon.com, he connects directly with his readers.
Full Story

Eric'sWeb