This morning I went for a five mile run. I don’t break any speed records, I’m simply preparing for my second Army Ten Miler this October. As I ran this morning I cleared my head and drank in the fact that Virginia Creeper was finally out. The ebook released yesterday evening and is already selling strong. Virginia Creeper on Amazon.com
Eight long years, that was the journey of this book to finally reach press. Wow. Some of this was pure perseverance on my part. The story was deeply personal, one that demanded to be told. I knew that and hung in there, confident that I’d find the right publisher with the right vision to see this through. I was deeply pleased that Hydra Publishing saw the same potential as I did and contracted for the book.
As I ran I reached the turnaround point at the Rappahannock River and the rickety old steel bridge between Culpeper and Fauquier Counties. This morning, the sunlight was burning off the summer rain from last night – mist rose up where the beam of warmth penetrated and hit the road. I stopped for a moment at the base of the bridge on Waterloo Road and looked across it. About a half mile from where I stood was Minerva Funderburke’s house. It was there that the story really started. I remember it all too clearly.
Writing about where I live in Virginia was harder than it seems. If you have never been to Warrenton or Amissville, I wanted you to understand the culture, the people, and the lifestyle of the people I wrote about. We may be only 50 miles from Washington DC, but in some respects we are on another planet. This book is personal, not just because I'm in it, but because is helps people see the beauty, history, and people of the Piedmont.
The book is the kind of book that keeps you up at night. I cringe to say it is a horror book, because it is much more than that. Let me say this, I avoided all of the gratuitous blood-bath scenes that some authors use. It would have been easy to turn it into that kind of book. That’s not my style. This is the kind of terror that gnaws away at your imagination, at least it did for me and the other people involved with this book. I invite you to read this book at night, alone, but that’s only an invitation by someone with a twisted sense of humor.
The question I keep getting is, “is this a true story?” No comment on my part. My thinking here is the answer to that question isn’t really important, is it? The principles all know, and that’s all that matters to me. There’s always more to a story than what appears in the newspapers and on TV, that much is for sure.
You’ll have to read Virginia Creeper for yourself. Who doesn’t like a little nerve-rattling terror on hot summer nights?