The older I get, the less I understand things. I’m not talking here about things I never understood, like chemistry and algebra. I’m wondering, for example, about the sign I passed the other day, one advertising a “dry bar.” Confusing, yes? How can a bar be dry? By definition a bar serves alcohol, which makes it decidedly wet. As a girl who went to college in a dry county, I do know the difference.

It seems a dry bar in today’s parlance is a place where one goes to get one’s hair “blown out.” Clients can choose a bouncy blowout, a wavy blow dry, a natural blowout and even a 90’s blowout, the ad for which proclaims, “Nineties hair is back in a big way — we’re talkin’ a gravity-defying fluffy blowout. Voluminous, low maintenance and low-key sexy…”

As one who lived through the 90s, I’m not sure a return to those colossal coiffures is a good idea. I’m also unsure about the advertised Brazilian blowout, which brings to mind a Brazilian wax, something I’ve worked hard to forget.

It appears that 90’s hairstyles are once again hot. Does anyone think that’s a good idea?

Then there’s the Nail Supply store I saw the other day. The place seemed large and I wondered just how much space might be needed for some nail clippers, emery boards, and an assortment of nail polish. Then I thought I might have it wrong. Maybe they were selling nails: framing nails, box nails, sinker nails, masonry nails. Those types of things. But again, the size of the store seemed massive if the only thing in the inventory was nails. Very curious.

A little later, I walked into my favorite store: Total Wine. For those who live in parts of the country without this fabulous retailer, it’s a giant warehouse full of pretty much nothing but booze. Wine, liquor, and beer from every corner of the world. There’s also a smattering of eatables like cheeses and chocolate and upscale munchies, which makes the place the perfect go-to spot in the event of a zombie apocalypse. I plan to be inside when they lock those doors on such an occasion. And yet, I noticed something the other day that made me wonder. The clerk at the counter reached for a narrow, brown-paper sack in which she intended to place my wine bottle.

“It’s in case you drop the plastic bag,” she explained.

“The bottle will still smash anyway,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

I looked into the practice later and discovered that originally the bag was to give the buyer some privacy, the idea being that maybe they didn’t want anyone to know they were buying alcohol. Of course, I’m guessing most everyone knew what was in the sack, so the practice seems a bit silly. And, of course, the protective effects against broken glass are non-existent.

Then there are QR codes. Now don’t jump on your soapbox and call me old technophobe. I know that one takes a picture of those weird, black and white, Rorschach-test looking things, in order to be linked with something online. I get the concept. I just can’t figure out how anyone came up with the idea. As I generally do when confused, I researched the issue. Turns out a Japanese engineer named Masahiro Hara invented the QR code back in 1994, in an effort to come up with a better way to track automotive parts. His idea was an extension of the barcode, only with a QR code information can be stored both vertically and horizontally, which is pretty damned brilliant. Methinks Mr. Hara probably never had a problem with chemistry or algebra.

I guess new things will always keep popping up. And maybe that’s for the best. It keeps us on our toes, don’t you think?

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books

I used to have a lot of things to do, which is why retirement has been a bit difficult for me

Like most people, I’ve spent my life running from one responsibility to another. I was a teacher for 20 years, this following about 15 as a reporter in both television and print. All along the way, I was an amateur sports official, an avocation I practiced for four decades. And I’m a foster mom and an author. On top of all that, I worked out most of my life, so the gym and pool were a second home.

Today, I’m retired from my everyday job in the classroom. I no longer traverse football fields blowing whistles, and my workout regimen is a fraction of it once was. Adding to the strangeness is the fact that recently I became an empty-nester as the kids have all spread their wings and flown.

One fabulous aspect to all of this is that the alarm clock that used to brutalize me every morning is no longer an instrument of torture. I looked forward to this time in my life when I could sleep in and do anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. But it turns out retirement can be tricky.

According to the American Psychological Association article “Retiring minds want to know” by Jamie Chamberlin, “Too few people consider the psychological adjustments that accompany this life stage, which can include coping with the loss of your career identity, replacing support networks you had through work, spending more time than ever before with your spouse and finding new and engaging ways to stay active.”

That part about losing your career identity is one I didn’t consider. Like many people, I believed my job was not just what I did, it defined who I was. Leaving the classroom and officiating fields behind left a big hole in my world. Which, considering my personality, is apparently not that strange.

“(P)eople with certain personality characteristics—such as being competitive and assertive—had more difficulty adjusting to retirement…compared with more mild-mannered people coming from low-pressure jobs,” said Chamberlin. “The very attributes that make people successful in their work life often work against them in retirement.”

“I worry that you won’t have enough to do,” my sweetie pie often says to me. “You can’t just do nothing. You always have to have a project. Why can’t you just relax?”

Perhaps because to me a successful day is one in which I accomplish lots of things: took care of the animals, prepared healthy meals, taught school, read the newspaper, answered e-mails, wrote a book chapter, officiated a ballgame, read a few pages of a novel before nodding off. Something like that. And I’d give myself extra credit if some unexpected responsibility crashed into my schedule and I got that done too.

But today the activities in which I used to participate have been pared back dramatically. I’m still writing books and doing all the promotional activities that come with that kind of work. (This blog, for example.) But I often find myself standing in a room wondering what I might do next.

So, how can we be happy in retirement? First, understand that the process takes time. We’ve been working our entire lives. Stopping cold-turkey can give us whiplash. One way to cope might be part-time work, especially in a job that gives us pleasure. Another is to maintain a solid social circle, because in-person face time with others is good for our mental health. Volunteering is also an excellent way to fill all that free time we now have, because it provides both social interaction and psychological well-being. Studies show helping others can offset feelings of anxiety, stress, and anger, which in turn improves cardiovascular health.

Just remember that there isn’t a one-size-fits-all road to a happy retirement. The trick is to find what works for us individually.

I don’t have the answer yet, but I’m working on it.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books

Like many Americans, I used to think of Memorial Day as a reason to celebrate because it was a three-day weekend, one rife with parties and fun. I did know better. As a Girl Scout and a member of my high school’s marching band, I walked in those Memorial Day parades alongside veterans wearing military caps and colorful ribbons who’d wave to cheering people gathered along the route.

But the lure of having a day off and heading to a party with friends eventually blotted out the real meaning of Memorial Day. It wasn’t until I was called over to the editor’s desk, back when I was a newspaper reporter, that I started to rethink the holiday.

“Go and find all the fun events people can attend this weekend,” he said.

I frowned. “Fun events? That’s not what Memorial Day is all about.”

He looked confused.

“I know it’s a three-day weekend, which tends to give people license to party their brains out, but remembering those who died fighting for our country just doesn’t lend itself to Jello shots, does it?”

Okay, I probably wasn’t that glib, but he got my point.

“Write what you want,” he said before waving me away.

And that’s exactly what I did. The story ran on May 24, 2000, in the Arizona’s West Valley View.

Once upon a time on Memorial Day, proud veterans walked in town parades to the beat of high school marching bands. Red, white, and blue floats made of paper carnations rolled by as Boy Scouts and Girls Scouts marched behind honor guards holding high the American flag.

Now, Memorial Day seems to be nothing more than an excuse for a three-day weekend and a blow-out sale at the mall. Some still do visit graveyards where they place tiny flags by stones marking the war dead, but they are relatively few and their numbers are rapidly dwindling. You see, the ones who truly hold Memorial Day in their hearts are the ones who were there, the ones who fought alongside the soldiers who did not come home.

I interviewed a number of aging veterans for that story, men who despite their advanced years, recalled vividly those who were left behind.

“I was a foot soldier. Fifty-ninth field hospital. My brother was in the Seventh Armored Division. He chased me and I chased him, but he was killed before I got to him.”

“The pilot of the helicopter was going to lower me down into the water and I leaned out and took a look. Here was these huge fishes going around eating pieces of bodies. Sharks. And you know they couldn’t declare that person dead because they didn’t know if it was one person or two. I thought about it ever since.”

“A buddy of mine…we went all the way through the war right to the end. Just outside of Cheb, Czechoslovakia he got captured and they stuck a pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He was…22.”

I can still see these veterans as they recalled the unimaginable horrors they’d lived through. And, of course, there’s the memory of my own father—a machinist mate on a destroyer escort who helped push the Japanese back during World War II and was there in Tokyo Bay when the war ended.

“I was standing watch at night,” my dad said. “There were dead pilots lined up on the deck waiting to be buried at sea. They were covered except for their feet, that rocked back and forth as the ship swayed in the waves.”

My dad also told me about the young man he retrieved from the water badly burned. He asked my father for a cigarette then died in his arms.

My dad was one week shy of his 96^th birthday when he died three years ago. He had the beginning stages of dementia and could rarely remember what you told him five minutes ago. And yet, he could talk about his time in the Navy in intricate detail, as if the war was happening now. I sense that might be the case with most veterans. War indelibly etches their consciousness, visions the rest of us can never quite see.

“Go out to the cemetery. Go look at the graves,” one veteran told me. “That’s the blood in the red of the flag. The white is peace. The blue was the sky overhead. They gave their blood to have peace under blue skies…that’s the flag.”

And yet, it was a living veteran who made me think hard about the meaning of Memorial Day.

“There was one darkened room at the end of a long hallway, empty save for a man in a wheelchair. As I moved closer, I realized all his fingers were gone. With difficulty, I glanced at his face. Ears, nose, lips, and hair had all been burned away. His eyes were opaque white marbles. I spoke to him—of what I don’t remember—but he made no response, no movement of any kind. I hoped desperately that his mind had long ago fled to some better place. On Memorial Day we are supposed to remember those who have given their lives for their country. On Memorial Day I think of him. It makes it kind of hard to go shopping.”

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books.

Computer dating has been around longer than most people think. How do I know? I was part of an experiment back when I was in college for the first time. If memory serves—and it doesn’t always these days—it was 1976. I was walking through the student center at my university where I passed a table behind which sat a couple of people about my age.

“Do you want to try computer dating?” one asked hopefully.

Now, the word computer was not yet part of everyday lexicon back then, so I wasn’t sure what they wanted. Still, I dutifully filled out the form, identifying my likes and dislikes, hobbies and future plans. Then I walked away and forgot about it.

Historically speaking, computer dating has been around since 1965 when a couple of undergraduate Harvard brainiacs came up with the idea and charged fellow students $3 a pop. Today, about 40 million Americans are looking for love on the Internet, people of all ages. Not surprisingly, 18-to-29-year-olds are the most likely to participate, especially since all those dating apps are available on their smart phones. But 16% of those 50 and older are scrolling to the left, as well.

If you’re a dating traditionalist, you’re probably now scoffing at the idea that one might meet a suitable mate via myriad mouse clicks, but try not to be judgmental. Note that 54% of Americans say the relationships they started on line were just as successful as those that began in person.

That’s not to say that computer dating doesn’t have it’s drawbacks. I’m looking at the folks who doctor their images so drastically that they look nothing like them in person. And those who, let’s say, over-inflate their skills, talents, or financial status. Dating bios can be rather Facebooky, where people gush about their perfect children, fabulous career, massive house, and pets that don’t shed or claw the furniture. Methinks a little authenticity might alleviate some of those awkward, initial in-person meetings.

My sweetie pie and I have discussed what might happen when one of us shuffles off this mortal coil.

“Please, go find someone else if I die,” I said to Ryan.

“No! After you, I’m done.”

“Aren’t you sweet! But really…”

He shook his head.

“I know I’m hard to replace, but…”

“I’m never dating again!”

I know what’s discouraged him. The kids, all in their twenties now, have shared outrageous tales wrought by computer dating, some funny, some downright scary. Still, none of them seem put off by the process that has changed substantially since 1976, when there were no photos or bios to scrutinize. Instead, the computer worked it’s magic, sorting through my application answers in an effort to spit out my perfect, on-campus mate.

The results, by the way, were laughable. Now, I’m not saying computers are stupid. (Gosh, I don’t want some rogue AI taking me out for my insolence.) Still, my brush with computer dating didn’t turn out the way I expected. Who had the machine chosen as my perfect match? A young man named Greg who I loathed. I thought he was an ass and the feeling was obviously mutual. I can still see his face after we both got the news.

Clearly, no date ever occurred. And yet, since I’m not all that smart, I sometimes wonder what the computer saw that I didn’t. I don’t recall much about Greg, except that I found him insufferable. But was he the perfect match for me?

Luckily, I’ve never bought into that soulmate silliness. I mean, come on, with almost eight billion people on the planet, I’m pretty sure I could live happily ever after with maybe 100,000 them.

Then again, could Greg be one of the 100,000? I’m guessing I’ll never know.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books.

My son graduated from Arizona State University this week!

I know what you’re thinking. Why, isn’t that nice! But it means so much more than that, and it’s not because he’s my kid. Mostly, it’s because many people assumed Troy would never graduate from high school, let alone an institution of higher learning.

Now, with Troy’s permission, I will explain.

I’ve written about the fact that I became a mom later in life, my children coming to me in a couple of different ways, but in Troy’s case through the foster care system. My parental journey began one summer when a child in one of my classes phoned and told me he’d been placed in the care of the state and that no one was feeding him. I was understandably appalled and quickly found myself attending foster mom school so he could come and live with me. Shortly thereafter, the small, frightened 15-year-old boy arrived at my door. Since that time, five young people have lived in my home, some of whom still call me Mom, Troy among them.

Troy’s story, like the ones all my children carry with them, is depressing. His mother died when he was two. With no father around, he was taken in by his grandmother who, though no one knew it at the time, was in the beginning stages of dementia.  When Troy began running around and acting like a little boy, his grandmother couldn’t cope, so he was medicated to make him more manageable. He was then placed in special education programs.

I remember the day we met. This blond, blue-eyed boy sat by my desk as I tried to ascertain what he was doing in my remedial reading class.

“Your test results show you read at the level of a college freshman,” I said, peering at the scores on my computer screen. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and smiled.

I tried to move him into a more suitable class, but the counselors refused to change his schedule, insisting Troy was a special education student—he was diagnosed as autistic— and so must belong in a reading class. For the rest of the year, I provided him with upper-level reading material, so he wouldn’t get bored.

At that point, Troy had been in foster care for about three years. After his grandmother suffered a heart attack, and his myriad aunts and uncles refused to take him in, he’d been placed in the system. Troy would, by his own account, live in ten different homes, most of the group variety, where, let’s be honest, children are housed because a paycheck from the state follows wherever they go.

Then, near the end of his sophomore year, a miracle occurred. A young couple wanted to take him in. Why was this so astonishing? Almost no one wants to open their home to teenagers. It’s those perfect little infants people want, not complicated teens with lots of baggage. The idea of a mom and a dad was intoxicating for Troy, as he’d never had either, so he jumped at the chance. I remember feeling sad when he told me he was leaving. I can still see him walking out of my classroom for what I thought was the last time.

About a year and a half later, as I was giving a lecture, he reappeared in the doorway, though he had changed dramatically. Troy had clearly been ill. He’d gained weight. He looked lost. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking on the track behind the high school. He explained that he’d learned his mother had committed suicide, a piece of information that had been kept from him. He’d suffered a nervous breakdown upon hearing the news and the family he lived with said they no longer wanted him. He was placed in a mental institution, where he was heavily medicated. After a few weeks, he was fine. He’d suffered a personal trauma—like anyone who’d lost a loved one—and was ready to leave the hospital.

But there was a problem. No one wanted Troy. And the state had nowhere to put him. So, they just left him there. For three months! In a mental institution! On our walk that day, he explained that he’d recently been placed in a residential living facility for unwanted teens who had aged out of the system. Later, when I visited that crumbling two-story building, I was appalled by the living conditions in what had once been 1960s-era hotel and heart-broken by the lost-looking young people who lived there.

The only good thing was that Troy resided about a mile from my home. Over the next few months, my partner Ryan and I would periodically invite him to dinner. Eventually, we all decided that Troy should live with me. As he’d been hospitalized during his senior year in high school, he’d never graduated, so I signed him up at my school. He quit taking all those prescription drugs he’d been on since he was four, and Ryan and I—standing in as Mom and Dad—proudly watched him graduate.

Despite this, his biological family kept trying to have him declared legally incompetent so he could collect disability checks from the government. It seems none of them believed Troy could ever become a successful member of society.

But they were wrong. Troy entered ASU with the hope of eventually working in the hotel/restaurant industry. He took a job in a local restaurant while he carried a full load of classes. He moved into an apartment with some friends. Recently, he found a job with the Veteran’s Administration and says he hopes to one day become a dietician. He’s talked about getting his master’s degree.

Ryan and I could not be prouder. Troy could have become a statistic. Twenty percent of kids who age out of foster care instantly become homeless. Thirty-four percent admit to using illicit drugs. Sixty percent end up in the sex industry. Twenty-five percent will be incarcerated within two years.

But Troy will tell you that those numbers don’t matter. The only one that’s important to him is 3%.

“That’s what I want on my cake, Mom,” he said recently. “1 of the 3%.” He smiled.

And so, that’s what we did: “Congratulations, Troy! 1 of the 3%” appeared atop his cake.

You see, just a little under 3% of kids who’ve been in foster care ever make it through college.

Did I mention my son just graduated from Arizona State University?

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Get your copy where you buy books.

I have lots of scars. Some from misadventures, like the first time I tried to shave my legs. I’m still missing a chunk of flesh on one knee cap. I have a bunch of other old wounds from various surgeries: I’ve had my shoulder pieced back together twice. I have some lower belly scars  from when doctors removed my ovaries. (Don’t worry. I wasn’t using them.)  Recently, I acquired a couple of beauties after I got Covid, passed out, and broke my leg. Because I didn’t like that particular story, I asked the surgeon to mess up my incisions a bit.

“Can we make it look more like a shark bite,” I asked just before surgery.

“No!” the doctor said, completely devoid of a sense of humor.

“But it’s a better story,” I pleaded.

He just shook his head and walked out.

Then, a few weeks back, my sweetie pie took a fall of his own and smacked his head. The subsequent injury resulted in three stitches in his eyebrow. The funny thing was he too asked the doctor to mess up the wound a little, requesting a more jagged-looking scar. (In case you’re interested, his doctor said no, too. Spoil sports!)

Now, before you surmise that we’re both a bit off, note that studies show scars are cool. Psychologists at the Universities of Liverpool and Stirling in England did a study on whether facial scars were attractive. And it turns out…they are! Men with scars are alluring to women, the idea being that these tough-looking dudes are strong, brave, and more exciting than those sweet-faced boys with flawless skin. The scarred man is perceived as a risk-taker which ups his masculinity quotient. But here’s the thing. Those rugged-looking types are popular for a fling, while those who are scar-free are thought of as more gentle and caring, and so are better marriage material. In regard to women, studies show they are seen as no less attractive than if they didn’t have scars.

If you’re still not sure that scars are hot, I present exhibit A: Lethal Weapon 3, with Mel Gibson and Rene Russo. When Russo’s character gives medical treatment to a wounded Gibson, the resulting I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours is both hysterical and sexy. Since we’re talking film scars, there’s also the famous scene in Jaws where the crazy captain, played by Robert Shaw, and Richard Dreyfus’ oceanographer get drunk and start comparing scars, several of the shark-bite variety.  The moment when Roy Scheider’s police chief glances down his own pants and decides not to mention his appendix scar is a scream. (Yes, I know this has nothing to do with scars being sexy, but I couldn’t pass up a good shark-bite scene.) Then there are TV shows like Vikings, where bare-chested, long-haired, scarred-up dudes strut around smacking each other with swords. And you know what I say? All that imperfection is damned alluring!

Obviously, I go for rugged men. Perhaps because on the rare occasion I dated a Mr. Pretty Boy, reality would eventually strike: He’s better looking than I am! So, give me a tough guy who’s not perfect.

Oh, wait! I already have one.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books.

I consider myself a bit of a foody. Maybe it’s because I worked in the restaurant business years ago. Or perhaps it was because I was married to a chef for over a decade. Or maybe it’s simply because I like food. A lot. Whatever the reason, I am amazed by certain eatables.

Take peanut butter for example. Now, most of us have, on occasion, bitten into a rotten peanut, which can taste pretty yucky. So then why is it that peanut butter almost never goes bad? It can get hard, yes, but add a little oil, mix it up, and everything’s fine. Even open, no refrigeration is necessary. As I purchase peanut butter without preservatives, I was confused as to how it manages to keep for years. Scientists say the high-fat content and an abundance of vitamin E, a natural antioxidant, give peanut butter its longevity. What’s really interesting is that even if peanut butter gets rancid and tastes bad, it still can’t hurt you. So, buy a few cases, in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

Chocolate is pretty magical, too. Not just for its incredible deliciousness, but because, like peanut better, it almost never goes bad. Now don’t tell me that the white bloom that sometimes appears on chocolate means it’s bad. It’s not. Just melt your discolored chocolate, stir, and, voila, all better.

One of the most fascinating foods is honey. Humans have loved the stuff for a very long time and have been buried with it for at least 5,500 years. Archaeologists discovered 3,000-year-old honey in the tomb of King Tut which was supposed to keep the boy pharaoh happy on his journey into the afterlife. Another tomb of the same age turned up more honey, which archeologists sampled and found perfectly eatable. The explanation: honey is low in water and high in sugar, so bacteria is unable to grow on it. (As an aside, note that the Egyptians often used honey on wounds and to treat skin and eye infections, since it worked kind of like an antibacterial bandage.)

There are also other amazing foods. White rice has been known to keep its flavor and nutrient content for up to 30 years. Popcorn is also a forever-type of food. Yes, I know those little microwave packets have expiration dates, but the corn cornels themselves are eatable pretty much forever. Neither salt nor sugar go bad, nor—thank goodness— does hard liquor. One caveat, here. Cream-based booze that is so lovely in coffee on a cold night will go bad. But have no fear of stocking up on liquor, should you plan to abscond to a deserted desert island or are entering witness protection and must reside in a remote wooded cabin in the Arctic wilderness.

Some other foods are not quite so magical, in my opinion, and have prompted questions. For example, I wonder about the first person who slid an oyster down their throat. Just how hungry were they? And what maniac invented Australia’s Vegemite and then convinced people to eat it. And who felt the need to create the one-hundred-year-old egg, which is considered quite the delicacy in China. For those who are uninformed, the dish is lovingly described as a preserved egg with a greenish and cheese-like yolk and a transparent, gelatinous body that can range from brownish-yellow to black. Yum! And why do people eat live octopuses, ant caviar, fertilized eggs bearing baby birds, bull penises, fried whole guinea pigs, and puffer fish which, if not prepared just right, can kill you.

It’s clear we humans are up for putting just about anything in our mouths. And I guess I should be glad, since there are so many foods out there that enrich our daily lives with sustenance, flavor, and beauty.

So, I will now do my best to stop thinking about foods that don’t sound the least bit magical.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Available where you buy books.

It’s almost time for the graduation season, and, in that regard, I want to mention an idea with which I wholeheartedly agree. And yet, just a few years ago I would have been completely against the idea.

In Abby Fawk’s USA Today Article “College can wait, but finding your life purpose can’t,” Fawk opines that American teens facing that jump to a postsecondary education are often unsure what they want their future to look like, so heading straight to college is a mistake.

As a former high school teacher of 20 years, I know Fawk is correct. I have faced hundreds of children across my desk, and when I asked what they thought their lives might look like in ten years, I was—more often than not— faced with blank stares. I would then go into my, What do you want to be when you grow up? spiel. I’d ask: What do you like to do? What are you good at? What will someone pay you to do? And again, I often received no reply.

Then the children graduated, most without any idea regarding what might make them happy in their business lives. We teachers have hammered into them that the next stop must be college. (Note that when I say college, I’m referring to any form of post-high school education.  Wanting to be a carpenter, an electrician, or an airplane mechanic are equally fine choices as wanting to be a doctor or a neurophysicist.)

What isn’t fine is having no idea what you want to study and then plowing ahead to your college of choice.

“College is the single biggest investment we can make in a young person’s life,” Hawk said. “Four years at a flagship state school can now cost $100,000 and private college can run three to four times that figure. Yet the vast majority of students arrive unprepared to make the most of the experience.”

Fawk believes that it’s time for students to revisit the idea of a gap year. As I said earlier, I did my best to dissuade kids who wanted to take a year off before getting additional education, because statistics showed that once young people start earning money, they are less likely to give up that cash flow and return to school.

But Fawk explained that a gap year, if done right, is not about losing forward momentum and can be a rewarding launch pad to a bright future.

“It’s to gather experiences and insights that inform everything that comes next,” she said.

Fawk is the founder and CEO of Global Citizen Year, a program devoted to giving young people the chance to immerse themselves in other cultures, to stretch their comfort zones, and to forge relationships with people who are different than they are. If this sounds a bit like the Peace Corps, it is. The idea is to take the year following high school graduation and expand one’s horizons. To learn more about yourself by living alongside others in a completely different environment.

But the GCY project is not the only way students can accomplish these goals. A stint in the military, the Peace Corps, or volunteering can also help young people find out who they are and what they want in life.

Studies show that American teens are growing up more slowly than the generations that proceeded them. Young people struggle with basic skills like time management, problem-solving, and navigating relationships. Why then do we shoehorn them into making decisions that will impact the rest of their lives when many are clearly not ready?

The idea is to give new high-school graduates a little breathing room before they make that leap. A well-thought-out gap year just might be the answer.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Get your copy where you buy books.

“Boy, didn’t this one grip me quickly and keep me glued to the pages! Loved the cliff-hanging chapter endings. Well researched, well-plotted and paced…Trust me, you’ll love it. Totally recommended and out now!” 

Find the rest of the review here.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Get your copies where you buy books.

One day, while working in the newsroom of a small local paper, the editor called out, “Who wants to review a movie?”

Despite the fact that I was primarily a sports reporter, I leaped from my seat, arm waving like a sugared-up third grader. “I’ll do it!” I cried, hoping he’d pick me. Then, I noticed no one else in the newsroom had responded. My fellow reporters remained hunched over their keyboards, solemn determination creased on their faces.

The editor stared at me, looking rather weary in retrospect, and held out a thick white packet. Inside, I discovered glossy actor headshots, bios, a synopsis of the film, information on the director, and previously published quotes made by those involved in the making of the film. The movie was called Love & Basketball which I thought fortuitous since it was sports-themed. Despite the cheesy title, it turned out to be a pretty good flick. While there was the obvious romance angle, the story was also about gender inequality in sports, the idea that women can be judged as being too athletic, and the choices we must make when deciding where we want to go in life.

I arrived at the cavernous cinema where only a few other reporters were seated with their writing pads and tiny pen lights. Then the music started. I picked a chair, settled in, and marveled at the idea that I was getting paid to go to the movies.

I mention this because I came across a film recently while stuffed into a Delta seat. I was returning from a vacation and faced hours shoe-horned in with nothing to do. I passed one movie numerous times as I scrolled through the offerings, believing I would be bored by the premise. It was a sports film, which, considering that most of my life has been devoted to the sports world as both a reporter and an amateur sports official, would certainly seem to be in my bailiwick. And yet, I didn’t want to watch it. Now, don’t get me wrong, sports themes have given us some of the greatest movies ever made: Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, Raging Bull, Rocky, Rudy, A League of Their Own, and Hoosiers, to name a few.

And yet, it took me a while to decide to watch American Underdog. I already knew the story of NFL quarterback Kurt Warner, a stand-up guy who was stocking grocery shelves after not a single pro team drafted him out of college. Despite his inauspicious start, he would go on to play 12 years in the league, leading the St. Louis Rams to a Super Bowl victory and claiming MVP honors. He would also take the lowly Arizona Cardinals—my long-time team of choice— to the Super Bowl where they fell to the Pittsburg Steelers in a 27-23 thriller. Warner was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2017. Add to this Warner’s wife: a former active-duty Marine, divorced with two kids—one with disabilities—and their improbable love story. Clearly the plot was a good one. But I figured it would be the usual saccharine take on a humble man making good.

But I was wrong.

Here’s my mini review.

American Underdog

The Kurt Warner Story

American Underdog tells story of Kurt Warner’s improbable rise to stardom, a journey with an ending only he could see. His dogged determination is beautifully portrayed by actor Zachary Levi, who is so strikingly similar to Warner that by the end of the film he has become the NFL Super Bowl MVP. At 6’4″ Levi carries himself like an athlete and he mastered Warner’s understated, humble demeanor.

Academy Award-winner Anna Paquin plays Warner’s love interest Brenda, a commitment-shy, former active-duty Marine and single mom. Paquin captures Brenda’s reticence as she tries to discourage Warner’s affections and her strength as she deals with personal tragedy.

As a former sports reporter, I found the technical skills involved in editing the film’s on-field scenes exceptional, especially the parts where shots were expertly intermixed with actual footage of the real Warner on the field. The seamless highlights were a joy to watch.

I have only one small gripe: Levi was clearly a bit old to be playing a college football player in the beginning of the film, but I can’t see a way around that, because it was his performance that made the movie great.

American Underdog is an wonderful film, even for those who are not sports fans. I highly recommend it!

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

WOLF CATCHER

Anne Montgomery

Historical Fiction/Suspense

TouchPoint Press

February 2, 2022

In 1939, archeologists uncovered a tomb at the Northern Arizona site called Ridge Ruin. The man, bedecked in fine turquoise jewelry and intricate bead work, was surrounded by wooden swords with handles carved into animal hooves and human hands. The Hopi workers stepped back from the grave, knowing what the Moochiwimi sticks meant. This man, buried nine hundred years earlier, was a magician.

Former television journalist Kate Butler hangs on to her investigative reporting career by writing freelance magazine articles. Her research on The Magician shows he bore some European facial characteristics and physical qualities that made him different from the people who buried him. Her quest to discover The Magician’s origin carries her back to a time when the high desert world was shattered by the birth of a volcano and into the present-day dangers of archeological looting where black market sales of antiquities can lead to murder.

REVIEW COPIES OF WOLF CATCHER AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

Review/interview requests: media@touchpointpress.com

Get your copy where you buy books.