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Shadow Comfort

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​Bobby thought the summer he turned thirteen was just going to be a typical summer – moving into another old rent house, the kind that creaked with every step and had peeling paint on the walls, and keeping away from his alcoholic, abusive dad's wrath, which loomed over him like a dark cloud. He never dreamed how wrong he would be. This summer would prove to be a turning point, a harrowing journey through a landscape filled with emotional turmoil and unexpected events. His life would be changed forever, and not everyone in his circle of family and friends would survive the tumultuous experiences that awaited them. As the days stretched long and hot, Bobby found himself grappling with feelings of isolation and fear, often retreating into the shadows of his new surroundings, where he felt a semblance of comfort and safety. Will his place in the shadows provide him enough comfort and safety to come out on the other end of that fateful summer, or will he be forever marked by the scars of his experiences? The summer held secrets and challenges that would test his resilience and ultimately shape his understanding of love, loss, and the strength it takes to rise from the ashes of despair.

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This novel, as is the case with most novels, was born of personal experience, intricately woven from the fabric of my own life and the lives of those around me. Life was not easy in rural Oklahoma in the mid-1960s, a time and place marked by a confluence of social struggles and economic hardship. My childhood was very similar to many who battled poverty, where the harsh realities of daily existence often overshadowed the fleeting moments of joy that occasionally broke through. The community was tight-knit, yet the weight of unspoken burdens often created a chasm of isolation that many found difficult to cross.

It was a time in which many a blind eye was turned when it came to taking out frustrations on wives and children, a grim reality that permeated the lives of those around me. The air was thick with the tension of unexpressed emotions and the fear of repercussions. Domestic violence was often shrouded in silence, as societal norms dictated that such matters should remain behind closed doors, unseen and unaddressed. The echoes of raised voices, the pain of a belt on my backside, and the sound of fists on soft flesh became a backdrop to my formative years, leaving indelible marks on my psyche. I struggled along with my mother, often feeling helpless and trapped in our circumstances.

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This novel is not just a reflection of my personal experiences but an attempt to shed light on the broader societal issues that plagued rural America during that time and which continue today, inviting readers to empathize with the struggles of those who often felt/feel voiceless and invisible.

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Writing this book caused me to experience a torrent of emotions that I thought I had long buried beneath layers of time and coping mechanisms. As I delved into the process of putting my thoughts and experiences onto the page, I was struck by the astonishing clarity with which those memories resurfaced. It amazed and frightened me to realize how vividly I could recall events and feelings that I believed had faded into the background of my life, even after nearly fifty years of trying to move forward. The act of writing became a powerful catalyst for reflection, forcing me to confront the shadows of my past that I had long attempted to ignore.

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​Read a Sample of Shadow Comfort ~ SAMPLE

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Inspiration Behind Shadow Comfort

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The summer I turned ten, my parents moved us into an old, two-story farmhouse six miles from Kingfisher, OK. John Ahlden, the farmer who owned the farmhouse, allowed us to live there rent free as long as we maintained the house. I started working for him that summer and continued until the summer I turned sixteen. Richard, the owner's son, often paid me to help him with his farm. I worked for John and Richard from 1965 to 1971.

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My stepdad was a physically and mentally abusive alcoholic. I often hid behind the door of my upstairs bedroom. Its shadow gave me comfort. A creek nearby also helped me escape his attention. My best friend Ricky Kuehn stayed over many times and we camped out together on the creek.

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In 2003, I visited the old farm for the first time in 20 years. The house and its cedar trees along the walkway had been torn down. The giant elm in the picture was next to the house when I lived there.

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