Looking for a Third Party Candidate to Vote for?



If you’re taking a break from The Walking Dead, check out this guys’ website.

McMullin is the man I’ve been looking for as a middle-class citizen. He wants to do away with the freedom-robbing Obamacare, he values life from conception, he feels strongly about retraining and rebuilding our military, and wants to reverse the unaccountable power of the Federal government.

It gets better.

His running mate, Mindy Finn, is an everywoman. She earned her Bachelor’s in journalism. She was a small business owner and will fight to break down bureaucratic walls that stifle business growth and innovation.

This team is speaking my language, and probably yours too.

Evan McMullin can win if both Trump and Hilary fail to reach 270 electoral votes. 

If that happens, he just has to win at least ONE state.


And if you ask me and every other American whose lived since 1824, I’d say our last third party president pretty much kicked ass. Honest.

Let’s do it again.


We Are Not As Free a Country As You Think

Premature Baby

Premature Baby

Two of our kids came to us through the state’s foster system. Despite all the horror stories, we were fortunate enough to not have any drama with them from their biological families. Just the standard and infuriating sluggish court system.

Our newest one, seven weeks old, is a different story. His mom wants him back, and if she can’t get him then her mom wants him. We wouldn’t have much of a problem with this except that his mom did heroine when she was pregnant with him.

All the way up until five hours before she delivered him.

And the state wants to reunite mother and son.

That is all I will say for privacy’s sake. Except that, through rather explosive circumstance that unfolded recently, it is exceptionally clear that had the baby been in his biological mom’s care, he would not have been brought to the ER last week and would have most assuredly died at home. His mom’s expert opinion is that he doesn’t need to be in the hospital. She said this while as a machine was pumping air into his half-dead lungs.

My wife and I were up late last night talking about everything.

We’re engulfed in a nightmare of epic proportions, and we had a decision to make. Do we throw our hands up and say the baby’s going to be given back to his mom anyway? Or do we stay in the ring and fight?

We have every reason to give up. And deep down, we want to.

But we are choosing to stay and fight. My wife wants to protect the baby for as long as she can. I’m choosing to fight because it’s one way I can stand up against injustice in this world.

Walter White once said, “I’m going to hell anyway. I’m not going there lying down.”

I question what freedom is. I question if we in America actually have real freedom, or is it masked? I know we’re not being dictated or shot in the streets, but we have to fight a stalwart and aggressive government to protect the most innocent of lives. Is that freedom?

Folks, we’ll all go to our pride rallies and pay our union dues, but our priorities are really messed up. When did marriage equality take precedence over the safety and care of helpless children? Babies are born addicted to drugs and we’re trying to make sure Steve and Jeeves can get a marriage certificate. Children are being neglected in the home because Mom took too many painkillers the night before, and we’re squabbling over he said/she said politics. Children are being beat because the state decided it was  good idea that they live with their “real” dad, and we’re busy Youtubing the latest panda bear video. What the fuck is wrong with all of us?

Where are the groups and crowds advocating that the foster system be torn down and changed from the ground up? Why aren’t the law-abiding citizens taking a final stand for a no-tolerance law? Meaning, once you have your kid taken away from you, that’s it, you’re done. No second chances. You want to have more kids? Fine. But stay clean this time.

You don’t tamper with young life. And all of us who survived childhood have no right to ignore those babies and children who are suffering in the blind hands of the state and the incapable hands of their parents/relatives.

Don’t you see? It’s a recycling system.Keep throwing the kids back to their lower-class surroundings, and they’ll grow up to be just like their parents living on welfare and food stamps, who in turn will likely give birth to children addicted to heroin and meth and cocain. It’s job security for the government.

I am not a racist or a bigot. I am 100% for anyone who wants to change their life. I feel bad for people who are living in desolation. And I understand it is a freaking hard world to live in and even harder not to fail. I get all that. And I also understand that there are people who can change their lives around for the sake of their kids. But today, I’m not talking about them. They are not a majority. They’re an extreme rarity.

So, my question to you is, what are we going to do to earn the right and the freedom to protect our children? Let me be uncomfortably clear: WE DO NOT HAVE THE FREEDOM TO SAVE CHILDREN. They are only saved if and when the state decides they’re ready to release them from bondage.

Who has the answer? Who has a plan? Who has the balls to stand up with me and, as Steve Jobs said, make a dent in the universe?


A Big October Scare

14448907_10210932544653816_335374217269917758_nAs of now we have three kids in our family. Our oldest, two, we adopted last summer. Our middle, almost two, should have been adopted forever ago but bureaucracy’s a disease that lingers for no good reason.

Our youngest, six weeks old, came home to us a couple of weeks ago. Without going into detail, he’s been back in the hospital since Wednesday night when he went pale and lost oxygen on us and vomited up blood.

Even in the hospital, hooked up to monitors and breathing machines, there have been many terrifying moments. We were even both called into the hospital yesterday morning in case we needed to say goodbye.

That sucked really bad.

He’s doing moderately better now.

My heart goes out to my wife and kids because they are so connected with him. I don’t connect with babies or bond with them well, and won’t pretend to. But the thing that hurts most is that, as I sit in the ICU holding his marshmallowy-sedated hand between paragraphs, he might not give us his first laugh or cheer and applaud with the other kids when the Disney castle comes on the TV. To be apart of our family is to love Disney, pizza, and Volkswagens.

This little guy is supposed to be there under the Christmas tree in a couple of months so our kids can obnoxiously shove their new toys in his face. We’re supposed to see his eyes widen as we drive by Christmas lights. He’s supposed to take his first steps in our house and make messes learning to eat with a spoon and go see Toy Story 4 with all of us.

He’s supposed to toughen our middle kid up and I’m supposed to help him pick out his first car.

Yes, we always assume we will adopt the kids we foster because that’s what we signed up for.

It’s been an incredibly bad year on pretty much every level, one that I will be happy to forget. We just want 2016 to be over, and we want this little baby to be there to wave goodbye to it and step with us into a better year. Despite who the president-elect is.

As the CEO of Endever Publishing Studios, we still plan on releasing our first two novels later this month. Please stay updated with Endever news as we continue to work hard at delivering the best quality entertainment the book industry can offer. Endever on Twitter, Facebook, and now Instagram.

A Little About “The Underneath”


Endever Studios just released the third installment of the serial novel, “The Underneath.”

Take a moment to meet the characters who suddenly find themselves in an increasingly changing world.

All over the globe there is a disturbing siren that blasts through the air. It lasts for half an hour and ends with an earth-jolting shake, felt by everyone, everywhere. Suddenly the sun does not shine in places where the skies are clear, rain doesn’t fall from impregnated rain clouds. The wind ceases to blow, the temperature drops drastically.

Kyle Logan is newly divorced and trying to adjust to the single life. He loses his suit and tie, moves out of town, and buys a ranch house. A new start. But it’s difficult to start over when his ex-wife Stacey drops by for a visit. Some ghosts are hard to run from.

Dr. Edwin Remy: A young, accomplished professor who recently lost his tenure due to his escalating schizophrenic condition. In his hallucinations, he sees Ollie, his former research partner, who taunts him about his knowledge, his (possible) past history with this otherworldly encounter, and makes Edwin question everything he knows, including himself.

Cameron Agee acts as a surrogate father to his sixteen-year-old sister leaving him no time to party or live the normal life of a high school senior. When all hell breaks lose, he is unable to find her in the school mob as the students make a rush for their homes.

Desi Moreno: A teenage, Hispanic boy – neighbor to Edwin Remy – who helps takes care of his mother and sister. He is a talented painter, often skipping school to sell his pieces to support his family. Once the encounter occurs, he starts receiving visions (often harmful to himself) while he paints that foresee upcoming events. These visions, in turn, threaten to expose the person he has been hiding within himself for years.
“The Underneath” is a serial novel of suspense and mystery of epic proportions. Enjoy the third installment here!

Addressing My Own Stubbornness

Great conversation and comments on yesterday’s post! Thank you for all who contributed. I’ve read through most of your reasons for being stubborn by not walking away from the written word and indulging fully in the technology age, and I’ve got to say, many of you are much deeper and intellectually-minded than I am.

I thought through my own reasons for not being willing to put down my books, and here’s what I came up with:

  1. I am a control freak. My poor family has to deal with this on a regular basis. I know I’m not trying hard enough to break the habit, but I’m trying to try hard enough. Anyway, when I’m reading a book I get to control the pace of the story. Rent a movie and you’re slapped with the 142 min. run time. No more, no less, unless of course you skip the credits (GASP!). If I want a scene to unfold slowly, then I can choose to take my time processing the information before me. If a scene is boring, I can read fast. If a scene is suspenseful . . . (A huge shout-out to Sarah Angleton from The Practical Historian for nailing this one)
  2. THE SUSPENSE! I am absolutely obsessed with being in suspense. It’s like a weird non-sexual dominatrix thing I’ve got going on. Everyone loves a good cliffhanger, and that’s the exact reason I love books more than movies and TV shows:


In movies, the suspense is revealed according to the director’s timing. You can’t hold out a little longer if he/she decides to reveal the outcome of a suspenseful situation.

TV shows are just too painful. They leave you with a cliffhanger and then you’re stuck scratching an irritating itch for a whole week or even several months. (This is why I love discovering shows really late because then I can Netflix them. Then the problem becomes not knowing when to stop. I’ve got to reach the next cliffhanger, I’ve got to know what happens, I’ve got to reach the next cliffhanger, what happens, cliffhanger, answers! It’s an endless cycle.)

So those are my two reasons why I refuse to let go of my books. I’m a suspense junkie. Speaking of suspense, you should check out the serial novel, “The Underneath” that my publishing company’s authors are writing.

Thanks for contributing to the conversation and may your weekend be filled with words, intimacy with your characters, and suspense!

Not What It Seems


Since I was young I’ve had bad hearing. Thirty-percent hearing loss in one ear and forty-percent in the other. Something like that.

As a result I used to get words words wrong all the time.

For instance…

I thought there was an N in early: “Earnly.”

I used to say “supposebly” instead of “supposedly.” (Except I don’t know what sentences would require me to say that word, but if I said it, that’s how I would have pronounced it.)

I pronounced helicopter: helicockter. 

And if something was corny, I’d say it was horny.

A lot of times things aren’t what they seem. Your life could be heading in a direction completely different from what you expect.

I heard of a guy at work who got passed up for a promotion. Turns out the boss was holding out for a better promotion which he didn’t get because he let his performance slide.

I thought those spots on Michael Phelps were because he sucks at Nerf. Turns out it’s a form of therapy involving suction cups.

I once thought my highest aspiration was to be an author. Now I own my own company.

So take my advice with a great assault and remember that things are hardly ever what they seem.

And check out Endever’s serial novel, “The Underneath” if you’ve caught up with your Olympics viewing.

The Underneath Part 2

The second part of “The Underneath” is posted. Enjoy! Please be advised the the below portion is just a portion. To read the full segment, go to Endever’s blog.

“Attention, attention,” the principal starts. Not surprisingly it takes everyone at least six minutes to actually give their full attention. Teachers from all over the room scramble to demand their students’ due respect for Principal Newhouser. Finally the principal speaks over the commotion. “I know it is tempting, especially now, to engage with your mobile devices, but I ask for at least ten minutes of your attention.” Only a few students using their devises take this threat seriously and put their phones away, which Cameron finds amusing.

“As you may have heard, there is a countrywide threat that has presented itself through several known attacks on several major cities,” Newhouser states, as officially as he can. Hungry for the latest, the students now direct their attention to him. “For any of you who have loved ones in any of the affected cities, my sincere prayers for their safety is extended to you. Rest assured that-”

Suddenly the ground and the chair underneath Cameron gives and the entire student body screams in terror as the lights flicker then burn out. The auditorium stills as quickly as it moved. Screams echo from all around and the auditorium is dimly lit by the blue and white glow coming from everyone’s phones.

Principal Newhouser’s voice can barely be heard through the speakers ordering everyone to stay calm and to not panic. But now even the teachers are ignoring him and poring over their devices. Cameron hears determined protests from people all around him saying they’re going home, and before he knows it, everyone is on their feet making a rush toward the Exit signs. A blow horn sounds, probably from one of the faculty members trying to get the students to settle down, but it goes unheard.

Trying to stay on his feet amidst the mob, Cameron pulls out his phone to text his sister, but it says there’s no signal. He pockets it and begins yelling her name, but his efforts are futile. He can’t even hear his own voice above the commotion. He’s determined to get to her before her boyfriend and his gang talk her into running off with them. She resents it, but ever since their parents achieved their fame and success, he’s had to become a surrogate father to her. If anything happens to Lisa, it’s on him, and he’ll be damned if he lets that happen.

The parking lot is a total disaster as students rush to get out of the school. It’s worse than Black Friday at the mall. Cameron notices the sirens have stopped, but it’s eerily dark out even though the nearest clouds are a long way off. He also notices that there are no shadows on the ground. He glances up at the sun and it looks no different.

Read the rest here.