I tell you what. Converting a file from docx to PDF and HTML must be difficult for a computer. Createspace and Amazon will gladly charge me $299.99 per book to ensure nothing is lost in conversion. It say when you upload that errors may occur, to avoid such pay the $299.99. No way. But anyway I worked all weekend on the font issue and dropped letter issue with "David's mark" and I believe I have a clean copy.
I'm still working on "The Boy in The Wood" although not bad a few words were jumbled. I have done HTML coding since the mid 1990's and know how easy it is to mess up. I do accept that some of the dropped words and letters are my fault, but the jumbled mess, no way. Anyway. I apologize for any errors that have cause problems.
Kindle and CreateSpace (the publishers of my books) do their utmost to get you to use their editing services, at $299.99 per book. I have made corrections and made corrections to my books and still there is issues with dropped words and fonts. I had "David's mark" edited by someone other than me and it turned out great, but as I reread it I find dropped letters and words. I have the same issue with my covers. In talking to others they have told me they ended using the services because of same issues. I believe that when their computer system converts the files it causes errors to force writers to use their service. I will continue to fight this because I refuse to be forced to use their services when I have done everything the way they say to. It is frustrating to say the least, and more so because readers are blaming me for dropped letters and words. The reason I know it is the issue is with the publisher is because I have the master manuscript to compare. So once again I am fixing their errors. ARG!
Greeting and salutations all; This is my first blog post so all I will do is drop my links to my books and brag about myself to promote my books.
"David's mark" my second book. Click the link to goto Amazon.com to look it over.
The Introduction from "David's mark"
How does one tell the story of one’s life that is so unbelievable as to make it believable? I’m sure that throughout the world in the plethora of bookstores there are many books on lives of people, many perhaps full of exaggerations and hyperboles, written by those who just wanted to add some color to their lives even if it meant getting outside the lines. You almost can’t blame them, because with just as many exaggerated stories that line the shelves, there are those that are fact, in fact so factual that they seem to be works of fiction.
That is where this story belongs. I lived my life and still have trouble believing what I lived, in fact without the evidence that I was able to gather I wondered if I had lived a dream. But alas, it was I that traveled the long dark and at times foreboding path called my life, and it was I that sat and watched the events of my life unfold. The story I’m about to share with you is but a small portion of my life and it is true, as to the best that my memory can recall. Events in my life that seemed to be beyond belief I was able to confirm with photos, police reports, and letters from the period, interviews, school records and hospital records. I spent about seven years collecting the information, the quest was started more to prove my memories as false but in fact just the opposite occurred, not only did I confirm my memories, but I learned more about myself than I wanted. As hard as it may be to believe my earliest memories are from about age two, and I do intend to include as many details as I can, I am after all sharing a portion my life for good reason.
So how do I prepare you, the reader? I cannot say. How do you prepare someone for a walk of truth down a path so dark and hateful that my Post Traumatic Stress (PTS) may become yours? Hollywood has made more movies than can ever be watched in a lifetime that fall into horror or thriller. But in those movies we watch for the most part they are all works of pure fiction; but when we watch a horror movie based on a true story the effect runs much deeper into our emotions, because we know it really happened to someone, somewhere; and that someone could have been the boy next door. This story may have that effect on you as I tell it. Your emotions may be drawn in, you will see this in your mind’s eye as you drive down the road, you will try to make sense of these events as you hear them, it may, just may invade your dreams at night causing you to wake up screaming in a cold sweat.
However this affects you as I tell it keep in mind, it happened to one little boy living in America in the nineteen seventies. At times he may have been your next door neighbor, a fellow Cub Scout or Boy Scout. You may have sat next to him in church or at school. I say this because in my life we moved on average three times a month for the first nine years of my childhood. As I tell you this be thoughtful of where you were, when I was, you might just remember a little blond boy with hazel eyes now long dead.
It’s not possible to tell the entire story of my life in the amount of time I have, however there was a friend that I had made that became the closest friend I ever had in my life, his name was David. This is the story of David’s mark; a mark that he had to bare because of me. I will start with my birth in nineteen sixty seven, and take you through to the first day of January nineteen seventy seven. It’s necessary to start at nineteen sixty seven, to better understand the person of my dad, and what shaped my thinking up to that point in time. It was the person of my dad that my life joined with David’s and it was also the person of my dad that so many other people’s lives crossed, and when crossing paths with my dad, the outcome was never good for anyone. So although it may appear to be a single life story with a lot of detailed information about me and my family, this background information is laying the groundwork to better understand the events that led up to my meeting and befriending David and what followed in December nineteen seventy six. Without this background understanding of myself and my dad, much of the events about David could not be understood. So keep in mind as I tell this, although I have to tell my story this is really the story of David’s mark.
"The Boy in The Wood" My first book.
Click the picture to goto Amazon.com to look it over.
From "The Boy in the Wood"
“So it can go where we can go. Mark?” Jeff turned to face his brother.
“Where would you go to hide out in our Wood?” Jeff asked.
Mark looked out into The Wood; his gaze became transfixed as he went into deep thought. In his mind he was running through all the possible places in the wood, and in the network that he would hide. He had played hide-and-seek with his brother so many times that they both know where each other would hide, but someone new, someone that was trying to hide for the first time. Mark figured it out he knew where their intruder was hiding.
“The weapons depot!” He said definitively
“But they’re not real weapons, Mark, just fake ones.” Jeff said.
“It’s the second biggest tree house and has lots of places to hide; we store all of our supplies in it. Someone could move stuff around to hide behind the boxes.”
Both boys got to their feet and as quickly and as quietly as they could, they then made their way to the weapons depot tree house. The biggest tree house was at the exact center of The Wood, it was the HQ for everything that took place in The Wood, but was also clear of any good hiding places. The weapons depot held all the gear they needed to play games with in The Wood, as well as extra supplies. Their dad kept tools, wood and rope in large wooden crates in the event that a repair was needed to be made somewhere in the network. If these boxes were shifted around a hiding place could be made behind them, and an intruder would be able to go unnoticed. When they came within sight of the weapons depot they both squatted down on the bridge they were on to discuss their plan of attack. With only one way in and one way out, there was only one approach, but how. If the intruder proved to be someone as big as their dad they could do nothing to stop him from hurting them. Slowly they made their approached to the door of the weapons depot. Opening it they tiptoed inside and noticed that many of the boxes and crates had been moved around. They followed the trail that had been made to the back of the storage area, when they made the last turn surprise gripped them both and they froze in disbelief.
Published in the http://www.herald-citizen.com/ newspaper.
DeWayne Watts: I started out writing short stories and poetry. Some of which was published in the 1980's. I have parts of 5 novels written and have completed 2 novels. I have been married over 25 years and raised 2 wonderful sons who have been a great addition to the human family.
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The 3 Novels/Books Written By DeWayne Watts
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"The Boy in The Wood"
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