Yes, there is a town in Texas with the unlikely name of Uncertain.  Don’t ask me where the name came from and I won’t even bother making a bad pun.  Here is a topographic map showing Uncertain on the west flank of Caddo Lake.

http://www.ericwilder.com

What do a Vietnam Vet, Shangri-La, raw, uncut diamonds, and a female poet-cop have to do with one another? They are huge parts of Eric Wilder's latest novel, "A Gathering of Diamonds." Wilder has written his most exciting story yet!

Tom Logan receives a large uncut diamond in the mail from his brother, who has turned up missing. Being in the hospital for his flashback nightmares, Tom feels that he was unavailable to his brother Bill when he was most needed, and so he sets out on the literal trail to discover what has become of him. It is a journey that will make him face his worst fears from his Vietnam days, meet challenges he'd never dream of being able to accomplish, and possibly find a soul mate along the way. Leaving New Orleans to head into the hill of Arkansas, Tom encounters two of the strongest women characters I have read about in recent years. And he's going to need both of them to make it through.

This work of fiction brings readers right into the heart of the mountains, where people take care of things in their own way. This side of Wilder's writing is so pinpoint perfect that you'll think twice before traveling into the hills alone. I live in it - I know. The suspense of the story is nicely balanced with the flashbacks Tom has of his hell in Vietnam, and just as nicely in balance with the romance of what the group discovers hidden deep in the valley, cut off from the rest of the world, by choice. Just when you think there are no new, original stories to read, Eric Wilder brings out a tale that will capture your attention and never let it go.

Review by Heather Froeschl, Bookideas.com

http://www.ericwilder.com

  Available at Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com, Alibris.com, Powells.com, Buy.com, target.com, abes.com, Lulu.com, and many more places.

Here is a poem read at my Mother’s funeral.  The author is apparently unknown.  http://www.ericwilder.com

A Couple of things:  Today is Veteran's Day and I have a few comments.  My Mother Mavis passed away yesterday.  She and my Father Jack were married 63 years.  They were married during the early years of World War II.  My Father is a veteran.  He has progressive Alzheimer's disease and his short-term memory is zippo.  Still, he has vivid memories of his service in the Big War.  He was a code clerk, not a foot soldier, but he saw plenty of action and I am proud of him.  My brother Jack Jr. was also in the army - artillery, during the Vietnam era.  I am also proud of him.  I was also in the army.  I served for 14 months in Vietnam, part of the time as an infantry foot soldier.  Yes, I am proud of my own service.  Today, there are almost 150,000 troops serving in Iraq, and quite a few in Afghanistan.  The Iraq War has already lasted longer than World War II.  These men and women are wonderful and, yes, I am very proud of them.  I am also proud of the veterans of Korea, the forgotten war.  I will not forget the time, many years ago as a young college student that I listened as a Korean vet recounted the story of horrendous human wave attacks.  Let's even go back further - the Civil War.  My great-grandfather, a Confederate soldier, lost a leg in that bloody war.  He hiked back to east Texas with a crutch and a wooden leg.  My Mom, Mavis, also lived the Big War.  Yes, I am proud of my Mom.  Thank you veterans.  This country would not be here without you, and thank you Mom.  Without your guidance, I would never have had the values that I feel are so important to this entire country.  http://www.ericwilder.com

  Mavis Pittenger, 03–21 – 11–06.  I love you Mom.

Happy Halloween!

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Here is an excerpt from the novel I am presently writing called Blink of an Eye.  Like Big Easy, it occurs in New Orleans.  After the death of his ex-wife, Wyatt is desperately searching for something.  He doesn’t know what it is, nor does he even vaguely comprehend that he is even on a quest.  His journey is back-dropped by the Big Easy’s usual chaos.  Let me know if you like it and I’ll post more tomorrow.

Wyatt Thomas found the large and heavy door unlocked and slightly ajar, just as in his dream.  He felt no compunction about pushing open the door and entering the courtyard, awash in colors of red hibiscus and purple clematises on vines that had climbed up the rough wall to a second story balcony.

            A fountain, topped with a naked cherub, dripped water into a weathered masonry pool burnished by a patina of lichen green.  Wyatt didn’t notice, nor did he pay attention to the gentle melody of dripping water, or the dozen golden koi swishing water in the pond as they gulped air at its surface.  He had something else on his mind, and that something was a faint halo of light bleeding through an open door across the courtyard from him.

            Wyatt passed through the portal, unaware of the clatter the steel taps in his heels made against the courtyard’s cobblestone floor.  He was also unaware of the black cat staring at him from a potted palm on the balcony above him, or the multitude of ferns hanging from every ledge, wafting gently in a hot afternoon thermal.  At that moment, he had only one thing on his mind.

http://ericwilder.com

All minerals begin as hydrothermal solutions.  That is, each mineral remains in a liquid state until very specific temperature and pressure conditions are met, and the mineral hardens into its crystalline form.  While these temperatures and pressures are specific, many minerals solidify at similar temperatures and pressures.  This tidbit of information seems esoteric, but it is very important to prospectors.  Why?  Because when the treasure hunter finds certain “not so rare” minerals, then its “very rare” brethren is often very near.  Such is the case of kimberlite and diamonds.  Find kimberlite and you will often find associated diamonds intermingled in the strata along with it.  What makes kimberlite readily noticeable?  It imparts a blue hue to the earth.  This often rich soil, when plowed, has a bluish tint.

At the Crater of Diamonds in Arkansas, the ground is regularly plowed.  Here is an aerial photo of the Crater of Diamonds.  Yes, the blue spot in the middle of the picture is the crater and yes, the blue color comes from kimberlite.  Are there associated diamonds there?  You bet! More than 75,000 of the king of stones have been found since the 70s, many large and of gem quality.  http://www.ericwilder.com

Here is a topographic map of the famous Crater of Diamonds in Arkansas.  Notice the circular nature of the surface feature.  This is a volcanic pipe, exposed at the surface of the earth.  Also note that there are actually three exposed pipes.  While all three may contain diamonds, only one pipe is open to the public.

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Diamonds in Arkansas, you say?  Real diamonds?  Just ask a recent Wisconsin visitor to the Crater of Diamonds in Arkansas.  Bob Wehle of Ripon, Wisconsin walked away from the park on October 14 with a 5.47 carat canary yellow diamond that looked a lot like “lemon-drop candy.”  This gem, worth about $75,000, is not even the largest diamond found at the park this year.  That record goes to a 6.35 carat brown diamond found in September.

Known by many as the richest 160 acres on the face of the earth, the Murfressboro diamond deposit also is the home of the hardest diamonds found on earth.  This deposit of diamonds is extremely rare because it occurs at the earth’s surface.

Are there more diamond pipes in Arkansas as yet undiscovered?  Read my new book A Gathering of Diamonds and learn the answer.  http://www.ericwilder.com

 Available at Barnes and Noble and Amazon.com, and also at http://www.lulu.com/content/418025 

After washing away trail grim from our garments, we spread them to dry on the bank and eased up to our necks in the hot water.  When Amber switched off the lamp to save batteries, we got another surprise in a day already abundant with surprises.  Lichen, growing everywhere on surrounding limestone, lighted the area around us with multi-colored phosphorescence.

       "Magnificent," Amber said.

       "It's like a fairy land," Mary Ann said.

       Their words understated how I felt.  Languishing in the luxury of the moment I reclined until only my eyes and tip of my nose protruded from hot water.  My muscles relaxed as I breathed the lusty mixture of sulfur and orchids.  Sometime later, Amber aroused me from the lethargy of my relaxation.

            "I just had a bad thought.  What if the whole valley is foggy like this?  What happens if we can't find the trail and our way back up the mountain?  It could happen, even if we go no further than we are right now."

http://www.ericwilder.com

Arkansas is geologically unique.  You can stand on a rock formation deposited 600 million years ago or wade in a stream filled with present-day alluvium.  You can find single quartz crystals that weigh a thousand pounds.  Don't believe me?  Visit the museums located on either the University of Arkansas, or University of Oklahoma campuses and see for yourself.  Oh yes, and there are wonderful fossils and many varieties of minerals that are found in abundance.  Is there a giant eroded caldera hidden deep in the almost impenetrable forests of the Ouachitas?  Will you see giant butterflies with one-foot wingspans and lizards the size of alligators?  Read A Gathering of Diamonds and find out.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Yes, you can find real diamonds in Arkansas.  The state is a geologic wonder.  There is a place near the tiny town of Caddo Gap, where you can literally see the very center of the eroded Ouachita Mountains.  Do you like quartz crystals?  You can dig them out of the loose earth on the side of the road.  Take a trip to Magnet Cove, Arkansas and find minerals found no other place on earth.  You can dig for diamonds (yes, real diamonds) and keep what you find at the State Park near Murfressboro.  Part of the premise of A Gathering of Diamonds is a previously undiscovered deposit of diamonds.  Really possible, you say?  Yes, it is very possible.  In fact, it is likely.  The Ouachita National Forest encompasses hundreds of square miles of wilderness area.  Read A Gathering of Diamonds and learn what else lies within the forest.  Available at barnesandnoble.com, amazon.com, and lulu.com.

http://www.ericwilder.com

http://www.ericwilder.com

A friend recently told me that he doesn’t particularly like poetry.  Bosh, I say!  Everyone on earth universally loves poetry.  Don’t believe me?  Name me one person that does not like music.  Music is not poetry, you avow.  Yes, the lyrics of all songs are poems with melody added.  Mo Town, rhythm and blues, opera, it doesn’t matter.  It is all poetry.  Yes, even rap.  In fact, especially rap.  If Shakespeare were alive today, he would probably be a black rap star.  Will smith, William Shakespeare – hmmm!

Music imbues visceral feelings from deep within our souls.  Who can listen to My Girl by the Temptations without feeling all warm and fuzzy inside?  Who can listen to the beat of a drum without having their heart begin to race faster?  Who can listen to Taps or Amazing Grace without a tear forming in the corner of their eye?  Who can hear a battle hymn without considering charging the enemy?

Yes, we all like our music - every one of us.  And, every one of us loves poetry.  It feeds our souls, our passion, and our hearts.  Here is one of my favorite poems, Ode on a Grecian Urn.  Put it to music if you must but enjoy it and, I hope it turns you on!

ODE ON A GRECIAN URN

By John Keats

Thou still unravished bride of quietness,
      Thou foster child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
      A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
      Of deities or mortals, or of both,
            In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loath?
      What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
            What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
      Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
      Pipe to the spirit dities of no tone.
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
      Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
            Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal---yet, do not grieve;
      She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss
            Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
      Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unweari-ed,
      Forever piping songs forever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
      Forever warm and still to be enjoyed,
            Forever panting, and forever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
      That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,
            A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
      To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
      And all her silken flanks with garlands dressed?
What little town by river or sea shore,
      Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
            Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
      Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
            Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
      Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
      Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity. Cold Pastoral!
      When old age shall this generation waste,
            Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
      "Beauty is truth, truth beauty"---that is all
            Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Here are a few pics of my backyard wall of morning glories and moonflowers.

http://www.ericwilder.com

   Here’s a couple of flower pics I took this month.  One is a hearty hibiscus, the other a moonflower.  I haven’t had as many moonflowers this year, probably because Oklahoma is in the throes of a five-year drought.  http://www.ericwilder.com

The squirrels in my backyard are so tame, they don’t even bother running up a tree when we approach.  This greedy little beggar just kept eating while I photographed him.  http://www.ericwilder.com

Take a close look at this picture.  The thick vegetation has overgrown an abandoned pumping unit.  This pic was taken near Jeems Bayou in Caddo Parish, Louisiana.  http://www.ericwilder.com

When Tom Logan receives a package from his missing brother, he drags himself out of his malaise and travels north to Arkansas to search for him.  The package contains a large, uncut diamond – a cryptic message that quickly involves Logan in suspense, romance, and adventure.  The novel is presently available only at  http://lulu.com/content/418025 but will soon be available worldwide.  Please give it a look on the Lulu website.  http://www.ericwilder.com

I’m drilling several shallow wells in Noble County, Oklahoma and generally drive north from Edmond on I-35.  Today, I decided to head north on Highway 77 and was glad that I did.  The route took me through Guthrie, Mulhall, Orlando, and Perry.  If I had continued northward, it would have taken me to Tonkawa.

I don’t ride motorcycles anymore (I still have a 1985 Suzuki 550 with only 1300 miles on it).  Why don’t I ride it anymore?  Well, this tarot card read told me – oh heck! that’s a totally different story that I’ll tell you some other time.  Anyway, the road from Guthrie to Mulhall is winding and scenic – a great ride for motorcyclists, I suspect.  Mulhall was founded by Zack Mulhall – see the picture of the historic marker – and the restaurant Lucille’s is across the street, named for the world’s first cowgirl.

Slow moving pumping units, scenic farmland, cows, horses, goats and sheep populate the landscape.  Perry is a quaint town that calls out to be a tourist attraction.  It has a town square and the court house is famous for the scene of Timothy McVeigh leaving, in custody, and accompanied by lots of Oklahoma lawmen.

The bluffs south of Mulhall are scenic and abut beautiful Skeleton Creek.  If I had tons of money, I would buy every scenic acre in sight because it is destined to be discovered someday.

Here are a few pics from my trip.  http://www.ericwilder.com

Eric has a new book of short stories called Name of the Game that will soon be available on the web at Amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.  It is presently available only at http://www.lulu.com.  Please give it a look.  http://www.ericwilder.com

Picture of cousin Chris taken on a recent trip to Edmond.  Chris is also an author and lives in College Station, Texas.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Here is a picture of a midnight tree critter taken a few nights ago.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Hello from Vivian.  I am happy to report that nothing much has changed.  As one of the pictures shows, you can still drive up to a drive-through window and order a vodka tonic, bourbon and water or slippery nipple to go.  The other pics are of Jeems Bayou.  http://www.ericwilder.com

Today is the 20^th anniversary of the Edmond Post Office Massacre, the first such post office shooting and the event that helped coined the phrase “going postal.”  I remember the event well, returning to Cape Cod on a ferry from Martha’s Vineyard when I heard the news.

Even today, little is known about the shooter, Patrick Henry Sherrill.  The news 20 years ago was that he was a Vietnam vet, driven crazy by his service in the war.  This proved untrue, but Vietnam vets were suspected of almost every heinous unexplained crime 20 years ago.

Sherill entered the Edmond Post Office around 7 am on the 20^th of August, 1986, locked the doors behind him and preceded to execute 14 fellow workers and wound 6 more before supposedly committing suicide.  Supposedly, you ask?  His body was removed by ambulance and there is no record of autopsy or burial.

What is the mystery of Patrick Henry Sherrill?  Perhaps we will never know.

http://www.ericwilder.com

According to The Oklahoman, Oklahoma City’s newspaper, a Garvin County earthquake registered 2.9 early Wednesday.  Information provided by the Oklahoma Geological Survey indicated it was one of four earthquakes that occurred during a 6 day period.  Many earthquakes occur in Oklahoma every year, most of a magnitude far less than in places like California, or along the so-called ring of fire that encircles the globe.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Oklahoma, like much of the rest of the country, is undergoing a severe heat wave.  Like the rest of the country, my moonflowers are suffering.  A few, however, have perservered.  Here are a few pics of my only moonflowers so far this year.  We must remember that moonflowers are magic.  http://www.ericwilder.com

    This is Tabitha and Rouge, sisters, sitting on the ledge at the back porch.

http://www.ericwilder.com

Here is my favorite Khayyam passage

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,Moves on: nor all your Piety nor WitShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it	-- Omar Khayyam

http://www.ericwilder.com 

Here is a forwarded email from a friend of mine.  I hope everyone finds it interesting. EW

Friends and family- Jim and his late wife and I were friends all through college. He has been teaching in the middle east for several years.   He is recovering  from major surgery after an accident this spring.  He paints a vivid image with this personal email.  Tim


Jim wrote:

Date: Mon, 24 Jul 2006 03:18:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jim
Subject: a wet season in hell
To: Tim

T. Francis:   I am in  hell and there is water all about. This is the story of our oddessy until now.  It is the unvarnished truth since in  my worst nightmares I could not have made this up.

 

Friday:  Lainie and I arrived at debarkation point at 7:45 a.m. By this point we were resigned to the fact that being an American meant nothing andd were willing to stand in line with everyone else and wait our turn. The embassy formed a cue.  It was litterally an overpass over a 6 lane highway. Over one hundred people abrest.  Since I am still forced to use a walker, we kept getting pushed aside by Lebanese families, who if if they had one child with them, were allowed to go to the front.  They did not even have to be passport or green card holders any relative could come at least to Cyprus.  One family in particular had 10 adults and 1 child but that they still got to move up. In 4 hours we had moved 10 feet and when they closed the line 4 hours later we were still at the end. Once we were past the barricade we were placed in a second line which we exited at 11 p.m. At 12:30 Friday morning we caught what we thought was the last bus to the ferry boat that was taking us out of Beirut.  We arrived at the boat at 1 a.m. and all the rooms were taken.  No one was in control of the room assignments so several single males who had been strong enough to push their  way  to the front got private rooms designed for 4 people while women with infants was forced to sleep on the floor. We were lucky enough to find a sofa because they were still bringing people aboard for the next 3 hours.The boat finally left at 4 a.m. on an 18 hour steam to Turkey. (managed to get 2 hours sleep during the first day in hell)

 

Saturday:  The boat (which was actually an overnight ferry with the totally ironic Arabic name "mercy" ) was designed to accomodate less than a thousand and there were at least 1500-1700 boarded. The only food on board other than bread and Jam were MREs but they were edible. We were guarded by U.S. Marines, the only competent and truthful people we had on this journey but the highest ranking man was a Sargent and of course they were simply taking orders and knew nothing of what was going to happen. The passengers were getting unrully and screaming at these poor men over matters such as "no clean towels".  I took up for some of them since they were exhaused having been on constant guard duty for 2 days. The worst part was that there was barely any potable water and by 9 a.m. none at all. The marines gave up their last to the children so they were forced to walk the decks all day long in he direct sun with no water. We were lucky enough to have brought a liter with us from tghe night before but were down to our last sip at the end. All along we were forced to listen to people complain and say how much they hated America.  So here I be, wearing my LSU cap and looing as conspicuous as Osama bin Laden at a Protestant tent revival, and they would quickly switch to Arabic once they say I could hear them . Most of the ones who actually had an American passport were residents of Lebanon who had hever paid a cent of taxes in their lives.  Yet oddly enough still wanted a free trip to the land of the great Satan. Go figure. We continued to steam northward and around 2 p.m. we received notice of engine trouble and that we were going to have to turn around and steam back to Cyprus.  This sounded like a lie since we were equidistant to the port in Turkey.  I found out when I finally found an embassy official in Cyprus that this was indeed a lie and was for crowd control.  The embassy in Beirut had allowed undocumented Armenians with no passport or greencard to board the ferry and they could not enter Turkey. At 8 p.m. we arrived in Cyprus and took an hour bus ride to Nicosea where we were accomodated on cots in a room with 400 other people but at least there was A/C so when they turned off the lights at 2 a.m. Saturday morning we were were able to catch 4 hours of interrupted sleep. (so day 2 in hell came to an end)

 

Sunday:  We awoke at 6:30 and at 7:30 were given some food. which was better than the night before and given the glorious news at 11 a.m. that we were being bussed to Larnaca to catch a 2:30 commerical flight.  The bus arrived at 1 a.m. and we were told to sit on board and the lines in the airport were massive (the first true story I had been told) and that it was better to be on an air conditioned bus since it was over 100 degrees in the parking lot.  At 2:30 we were told that the flight was delayed to 4:30 and by the then the A/C on the bus had failed. At 3:30 we were told that the flight would be a military one instead to Ramstein AFB in Germany  We tried to get outside to get a little breeze but within an hour Lainie had a heat stroke,  vomitted extgensively, passed out and had to be taken to the local hospital.  I made three trips back and forth to the airport to collect our luggage (at $40 a round trip) and was promised to be put on the first flight out in the morning. We got a rather nice room which was amazing because the doctor in ER called around for us and then the hospital refused to accept payment showing that the Greek Cypriot government cared far more about us than our own embassy whose only comment was "she can't travel on a military aircraft since she has been sick". (end of day 3 in hell)

 

 

Monday:  We called an embassy official as instructed at 9:30 a.m. to find out what time we were departing and were told that we were being "put on a list" and since we missed our flight the day before would have to wait until all the other people were transported out.  Now at this I draw the line.  Here I am, a tax-paying native born American citizen and a resident of Illinois with a sick daughter (caused by the incomptence of my own Embassy) paying $200 a night for a hotel room (better than sleeping for a few fitfull hours on a cot and I am glad to have the money to pay for it) and being told that I had to go to  the back of the bus (both literally and figuratively).  So the latest word is that "try to get your hotel to extend your stay  for 3 nights (no such luck since this is the peak of the Cypriot tourist season) since it could be Thursday before your turn will come".  I did manage to get one more night since there was a last-minute cancellation but have no idea what we will do tomorrow.  (Hell is still in session)

http://www.ericwilder.com