Who I am
I'm not good at
biographies. I hate writing them, least ways I hate writing autobiographies. It
feels so…braggy. So instead, let me tell you about my house and let you decide what
kind of person might live there.
I live in a
house with that was built in 1970, right before it got impossible to find
actual good lumber. It's built sturdy and strong with real wood floors, wood
siding, and full wood walls under that. Not just siding stapled to foam
insulation, but actual 1/4" thick wood. It's a stout ol' sucker,
surrounded by a wrap-around porch and big yard full of big trees.
Walk in the
front door and the first thing you'll see is a piano I bought for $20 at a
garage sale a few years ago. I'm still learning how to play it, but what little
I know, I learned by ear or made-up myself. You might have to move a pair of
jeans or a shirt or jacket out of the way, but you're welcome to play it, or
try your luck. You can't be worse than me.
Hanging on the
wall next to it, is a nickel plated resonator guitar. Most people think its
chrome and for all intents and purposes, it is. My wife got it for me as an
anniversary present and I love it. It's an attention, whore's dream come true
and I play it very, very well. Everything from sultry blues to wild surf comes
out of that thing when we're together. I play it most every day.
You go up the
stairs and you'll find my den. It's my place to escape the world. It has an old
TV with an xbox hooked up to it, surrounded by, well, 1984. Lava lamps, old
chairs, 80's and 90's magazines, a good six-string 'lectric guitar (my first
love) and a near–matching bass, are the likely the first things you'll spot.
Look to your left and you'll find an alarm clock/radio with a flip wheel
display instead of a digital read-out on top of a 60's record cabinet/player
combo, usually with either rockabilly or 80's metal on the turntable.
On the walls throughout
the house you'll find 50's style pin-ups, posters of hot rods, muscle cars,
super heroes and penguins along with pictures of family and friends and little
flamingos. Flamingos are a thing for me and my wife. We have several yard
flamingos for the various seasons, including "spooky" black ones for
Halloween. You can look at the various pictures for hours while tripping over
my kid's toys and the cat. My desk in the storage room across the landing, from
the den is covered in note books, dead pens,
model cars, and surrounded by cork board, covered in endless notes and little
cartoons I've drawn mocking various circumstances in my life.
You open the
wrong door and find the laundry room, which is full to bursting with baskets
and hampers of dirty and clean clothes. You're not allowed in the bedroom, so
skip that door. The guest bathroom has a deep tub, but beware of the toile, it
wobbles, so try not to lean toward the sink.
Back down the
hall you get to the kitchen, which is decorated like it's 1954 with teal walls
and white cabinets. You look out the window and you'll see an early 2000's Pontiac
In the garage
you'll also find three different types of sleds for various winter conditions:
saucers for powdery snow, cheap plastic canoe/toboggan thingies for slush, and my
prized possession, a five-and-half foot steel runner sled for hard ice. It the
winter you'll find them all in the bed of a Dodge Ram with my family and
assorted hangers-on in the bed out in search of steep hills and high speeds. As
a bragging point, the runner sled has been clocked at over 40mph with me on it
on a moonless winter night. I like a bit of a rush now and again.
Hanging
in the garage you'll also find more posters of old cars, a few curvy and tastefully
photographed women, as well as some targets with very small groupings in their
centers. You'll also find shelves full of neat, scripted badging and trim
pieces from a few favorite car makers. If the walls could talk they'd recount many
a cussing-out, a few arguments and lots and lots and lots of laughter.
So
that's where the place I call home. Make of it what you will. Hope you enjoyed
the tour. Now move your car from the drive loop: dad's coming over and I want
his old Galaxie500 there when he pulls up. I spent three hours waxing it and I
want it in the sun when he pulls up!
My work
I
do a lot of things to keep the lights shining and the plates dirty. All of them
spring from the same thing at my core: a love of story telling. My acting, my
photography, my cosplays, and my songs are all story driven. It comes out most
blatantly in my writing. The Vampire of Meadow Lake is a good example of many
of my favorite themes in writing.
At its core, The
Vampire of Meadow Lake is about a haunting and cautionary tale of a young
woman's murder and her best friend's efforts to avenge her death instead of facing
the fact that she's gone. I wanted people to feel what Jenny was feeling, to
get swept into her shriveled, black, little raisin of a heart and at least see
why she became the way she did, even if they hated her for it. I wanted her to
be as real and honest to the reader as she is to me. I succeeded. Some people
love her, others just flat hate her. She's like I wanted her: a polarizing
force! You understand her, but you likely don't approve of her lifestyle.
Same
thing goes for her boyfriend, John. He's a just your standard country boy. You
meet a lot of guys like him around here; wiry youths with poofy hair, genuine
smiles and big trucks. He's a humble sort of guy, but that makes him an anomaly
among his friends. The more you get to know him the more you start to
understand how he's not much better off inside than the young woman he's
shelved his life to protect and help.
The
thing is someone killed Amy and everyone's a suspect. Someone sold her out,
someone pulled the trigger and someone's going to find them and make them pay
with blood, or else get killed just like her.
All
hell breaks loose when Jenny's trap for the killer back fires and she ends up
kidnapped. John comes close to panic as skeletons start falling out of closets
all over town. He knows he has to act fast if he's to save her. With nothing
but gut instinct and scary half-facets to go on, he knows the odds aren't in
his favor. So sets out with his crossbow, his father's .45 to either write the
last chapter in a urban legend or become an other bloody page in an ever
thickening volume.
I
wish I'd written that for the back cover, now that I think about it.
I'm
quite proud of this book for many reasons. I didn't have much help with it. The
only thing I didn't do was edit it, and that was done by a good friend of mine.
Everything else—the formatting, the cover, the advertising, finding
reviewers—has been done by myself to this point.
In
addition to writing, I do pin-up and adventure photography as well as
illustrations and art. My media of choice is pencil, pen and marker, as you can
see below. There is more art to see at the links below.
I am a panelist
and presenter at conventions, and I will be presenting my panel "Vampire
History: from Nightmares to Daydreams" at Tulsa Comicon.
I'm working on a
post apocalyptic graphic novel, as well. Maybe someday I'll finish it!
As a side note, I'm searching for camera people and actors for a side project making short paranormal films. Contact me via facebook or Gmail at Authorjmp@gmail.com for more information if you are in the
Links
https://www.facebook.com/JasonPettyPhotography?ref=bookmarks
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