If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contact E. B. Davis at writerswhokill@gmail.com.

May Interview Schedule:
5/1 Krista Davis
5/8 Darci Hannah
5/15 Julie Hennrickus
5/22 Fishy Business Anthology Authors
5/29 James M. Jackson

Saturday Guest Bloggers: 5/4 Marci Rendon, 5/11 Diane Bator

WWK Satuday Bloggers: 5/18 Gloria Alden, 5/25 Kait Carson


Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:

Congratulations to Margaret S. Hamilton for being a finalist in the Daphne Du Maurier contest. Margaret competes in the Unpublished/Mainstream mystery/suspense category.

Congratulations to Shari Randall for WINNING the Agatha Award for Best First Novel. Her book, Curses, Boiled Again was published by St. Martin's last year. Read the interview about the book here. Yay, Shari!

Fishy Business anthology authors include KM Rockwood, Debra Goldstein, and James M. Jackson. This volume was edited by Linda Rodriguez.

Please read Margaret S. Hamilton and Debra Goldstein's short stories (don't ask about their modus operandi) in a new anthology, Cooked To Death Vol. IV: Cold Cut Files

Warren Bull's Abraham Lincoln: Seldom Told Stories was released. It is available at: GoRead: https://www.goread.com/book/abraham-lincoln-seldom-told-stories or at Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/ydaklx8p

Grace Topping's mystery, Staging is Murder was released April 30.

KM Rockwood's new short story, "Map to Oblivion," has been included the anthology Shhhh...Murder! edited by Andrew MacRae and published by Darkhouse Books. It was released on Sept. 12.

Warren Bull also has a story in Shhh...Murder! Look for "Elsinore Noir," Warren's short story, in this anthology.


Friday, March 9, 2018

Heritage by Warren Bull


Image from Pixabay

It happens to all of us, I suppose. Sometimes like a rock shattering the windshield of the car you’re driving. Sometimes like a dawn that flows through ninety gradations of ebony before you’re quite certain the sky is actually lightening. 

I can’t remember the first time, but I’ve had experiences both jarring and subtle since that evoke the empty and aching sensation of realizing my mortality for the first time. People my age no longer die in Viet Nam, from multiple drug overdoses or from drag racing on public streets. Now the killers are lingering illnesses, cancer and heart attacks.

So I wonder, will I be remembered? By whom? For what?  

My father’s World War II infantry battalion has stopped having reunions. There are not many survivors left from those times. It was not a good war. There are no good wars. It was good to win a war against foes who acted on the belief that only the chosen few with racial purity and superiority were fully human. I’ve never done anything nearly as important as those soldiers did.

I spent thirty years of my life as a clinical psychologist. For close to a decade now, nobody has come up to me, saying I used to be their therapist. That was always gratifying. I could never identify former clients by their faces. I had thousands of clients over the course of my career. Even the youngest clients I saw have to be adults now.

The institutions I support, such as charities, churches and schools, were built and maintained before I came along by people I’ve never heard of. I hope those in the future who will know nothing of me will continue to support heritages of caring.
Friends and family will, I think, retain some memories of me and those people will become memories of future generations. When the last person with a memory of me dies, will I be gone?

I’m vain enough to hope that my writing will outlast personal recollections, but I do not have a complete record of all I’ve written. Where do e-articles in e-zines that no longer exist go? Print books disintegrate and burn. Audio deteriorates. I have successful author friends whose new books go out of publication in an amazingly short period of time.

In my will I have arranged a series of bequests to groups of people I don’t know personally who do important work. The groups are run by people I’ve never met. My donations have been anonymous. I smile to my self when I imagine them saying,
“He’s not on any donor list. I don’t think I ever met the man. Who was he, anyway?”


Jacqueline Seewald said...


Considering our mortality is a painful subject. We hope to be remembered in some way. As to writing, who knows? Being generous to worthy causes is certainly worthwhile. If you have family and friends, perhaps they will value your work.

Jim Jackson said...

When I was younger I would wonder if anything I did would be remembered -- for a part of you remains present as long as someone tells a story that includes you.

In later years, I've realized that every interaction I have modifies the world, yes even the universe, in some very small way that I may not recognize. Now, I strive to live in the moment in a manner I won't be embarrassed by if called to task. Emphasis there is on the striving, not my success.

KM Rockwood said...

Is it comforting to realize that, once we are dead, we will not care whether we are remembered or not? Or is that a disconcerting thought?

I know I am not a person destined to do great things. I subscribe to the more plebian role of offering opportunity and support to the world, one person at a time.

And I try to live in such a way that, if everyone lived by the principles that I embrace, the world would be a better place.

Margaret Turkevich said...

I live with no regrets and in anticipation of what the next day will bring.

Shari Randall said...

I'm sure you made a big difference to your counseling clients, Warren. The effects of your work with them has surely improved their lives and the lives of those around them.

Gloria Alden said...

Warren, I agree with Shari. Every so often I hear from someone that they talked to a former student of mine or their parents and they say what a great third grade teacher I was. I have three living children now, six grandchildren if you count my step-grandchildren, too, who consider me their grandmother. I have seven great-grandchildren, and four living siblings and numerous niece and nephews, too, as well as cousins by the dozens since my father was one of 11 children. I belong to two book clubs, two writers groups so I'm sure I won't be forgotten by them if they live longer than I do.

And if I outlive almost everyone in my life there is the tombstone in the cemetery by my son, six-year old granddaughter and not too far from my parents that my ex-husband bought for me before he died with my epitaph on it "Teacher, writer, poet It also has my picture on it the same as does my son's tombstone and my granddaughter's tombstone.

E. B. Davis said...

I'm not concerned about the way I'm remembered. I'm concerned about the people I support and who will take my place when I'm gone. Perhaps until I know that I have been replaced--I'll keep doing what I'm doing. I only hope that I am replaced and those who I support will have some else to love them.