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R. Harper Mason

July 28, 2010

Review for Lyin’ Like a Dog

Filed under: Richard the Paperboy — Tags: — R. Harper Mason @ 2:43 pm

Richard the Paperboy—from Lyin’ Like a Dog
I Ain’t Lyin’… I Love This Book…, July 1, 2010

By Betty L. Dravis “BettyDravis@gmail.com, author of DREAM REACHERS, Toonies Invade Silicon Valley +”

This review is from: Lyin’ Like a Dog (Paperback)
I’m a mother and grandmother who enjoys all reading–from mystery, horror, thriller, romance and sci-fi to kiddie lit in all its many forms. Since this book appears to be geared for young boys, I didn’t think I would enjoy it very much. However, I liked the title and the tintype photo on the cover, so decided to give it a try.

And surprise of surprises–I loved it!

Less than a minute into Lyin’ Like a Dog I found myself transported back to my childhood in Ohio and the fanciful daydreams I used to have… I couldn’t help but think of the childish capers my brothers used to pull, our daddy threatening them with his belt, etc. (Well, to be truthful, my BFF Jane Smith and I used to have some whopping adventures ourselves. Being girls, we weren’t supposed to admit them, but that’s another story…) Granted, we lived in the city, so there were no swamps or moonshiners, but there were plenty of factories, swimming holes and gravel pits to lure us youngsters, not to mention the lonely train whistles to fire our imagination and whisk us off on fantasy adventures of our own.

Anyway, it was nostalgic fun to join these mischievous, but kind-hearted and lovable boys in their riotous capers. I found myself laughing one minute, then holding my breath the next as they went off on their most dangerous daredevil exploits.

I couldn’t believe the trouble Richard and John Clayton got into… Whether they were being “Indian scouts” in the swamps, finagling money to buy comic books, spying on some moonshiners, hurrying through Richard’s newspaper route, witnessing illegal crimes, out-bullying the school bully, playing a vicious game of tug-of-war, or getting their first crush on girls, somehow they always managed to make it humorous.

I felt like I knew the cast of characters from the parents to the teachers to their friends; characters with such amusing names as Ears, Swampy, Homer Ray and Curly. Rosalie is the pretty little rich girl, Connie is Richard’s special friend, a girl called Freckles is John Clayton’s, and Uncle Hugh is their oldest friend. He’s a “colored man” whom the boys help by doing small tasks and visiting to keep him from getting lonely. Hugh tells the best stories and frightens them to death with his ghost stories. He plays a pivotal role in the book.

I particularly enjoyed their Tom Sawyer-like adventures told in the childish vernacular of the narrator, Richard Mason (patterned from the author’s life in rural Arkansas). It’s all about Richard and his best friend John Clayton Reed during the eleventh year of their lives. The time period is from December 1944 to September1945 and some scenes depict the family listening to Walter Winchell report the dramatic events of WWII.

Author R. Harper Mason certainly seems to understand a young boy’s mind because the speech pattern is spot on and the action and characteristics are realistic. He must be a natural-born storyteller because he relates this tale in an easy-to-read, chronological order with excellent pacing. The questions that form in the readers’ minds are answered in all the right places. He certainly transported me to another world with ease and efficiency. The ending was warm and satisfactory; no loose ends here.

I’m still smiling as I recommend Lyin’ Like a Dog to young and old alike. This is the second book about young Richard’s life. The first was The Red Scarf and I can’t wait to read it. I hope he continues this series.

Reviewed by Betty Dravis, July 1, 2010
Author of “Dream Reachers” (with Chase Von) and other books

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Filed under: Richard the Paperboy — R. Harper Mason @ 11:19 am

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July 19, 2010

Lyin’ Like a Dog

Filed under: Richard the Paperboy — R. Harper Mason @ 8:29 pm

On July 15, Lyin’ Like a Dog, the sequel to The Red Scarf, was released. This novel continues the story of the paperboy, ‘Richard.’ His interactions with the people in the small town of Norphlet, Arkansas, and the surrounding woods and swamps, which formed the basis for my first novel, The Red Scarf, and this sequel, Lyin’ Like a Dog. It was time of brown, sunburned feet and shirtless summers where a boy’s only entertainment was his imagination. This novel, set in the rural south during WW II. It’s a coming of age novel with a nostalgic bend.
It’s a novel for all ages.
Reviews on Amazon have been excellent—7 five stars so far.

Afghanistan notes

Filed under: Afghanistan Notes — R. Harper Mason @ 4:00 pm

In a few weeks my new novel, The Warlord’s Daughter, Love and War in Afghanistan, will be released. I have posted the forward to this novel, written by former Special Forces Comander, Richard A. Mason. I think you will enjoy his insight.

Foreword

By Richard Ashley Mason,
Afghan War Veteran and former Green Beret

Initially, my father, R. Harper Mason, came to me with an idea for a fictional book about Afghanistan: a Green Beret and his romantic relationship with a warlord’s daughter. I was dismissive and oppositional about his concept. I even picked on him a little bit for having such a outlandish idea. For those of you who don’t know, my dad is stubborn, tenacious, thorough, full of interesting ideas and very intelligent. And so, he wrote the story regardless of my protests and lack of interest Reflecting on my reluctance to participate or encourage my father in his endeavor makes me feel like an ass now. My father has always been a great storyteller. I can still remember his bedside “Squatty the Duck” stories he would tell my older sister and me or some of his more recent works like The Red Scarf. With all the love and humility I can muster, I will admit, Dad, you were right—this is a good story and, yes, I understand it is fiction. You, too, Mom. Thanks for being so supportive of his writings and encouraging me to assist him. I admire the work ethic and vision you have both demonstrated to me my whole life. My small contribution to his book was to help accurately depict military training and combat operations (in Afghanistan) from the perspective of a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer in Special Forces. I also happen to own and operate the Direct Action Resource Center (www.DARC1.com) where I have been involved in training various Special Operations Units from around the world in high-risk, high value, kinetic combat operations for well over a decade. This is not a technical military book, nor was it ever intended to be. My experiences while having the privilege of wearing a uniform have taken me to dozens of countries and various continents. Of all the places I have been, the most interesting, diverse, mesmerizing and the most rugged is—hands-down—Afghanistan. The Afghans love art and poetry. Everything that can be decorated is, usually in an assortment of vibrant colors—from feed sacks to colorful ‘jingle’ trucks. Most Afghan music consists of love songs. They like to play them loud and often, which is pretty interesting for a country that has only known war for the past 30+ years. In my experience, the Afghans are also some of the most hospitable people on the planet (even the ones who don’t like you). However, miscalculating their friendliness for weakness or sincere fondness can be fatal to an outsider. One should never confuse their hospitality toward guests with their political, religious or tribal loyalties/agendas. When you leave an Afghan home or village, the residents might just be figuring out how to kill you. It’s actually quite similar (without the extreme violence) to the deep Southern traditions I grew up with. People will smile to your face, ask about your family and shake your hand while sitting next to you at the Wednesday night church potluck, but bad-mouth you at choir practice. Afghanistan is made up of households that come together as families, then form villages/valleys, and eventually organize into tribes. It is very much an Islamic patriarchal society with arranged marriages and a male-warrior ethos that permeates the culture. Some say that Afghans love to fight, but I disagree. Afghans pretty much want to be left alone, and are nationally very xenophobic. It’s not that they love to fight: It’s that they are not afraid to, and will for just about any reason. Afghans also know how to hold a grudge…for generations! I met people in Eastern Afghanistan who still hated the British. Blood feuds between families and sometimes between “uncles” are common. Allegiance is always to their immediate family first, then maybe their village or tribe. Last would be their national identity but it’s still there and is its own force. Interestingly, under the right circumstances, loyalty can be rented. Afghans are pretty savvy; they know how to be on the winning side and earn a buck in the process. You don’t become a warlord by accident, and you certainly can’t be one for long if you are ignorant, indecisive or squeamish. An Afghan warlord is like a regional, all-powerful, god-like governor or medieval feudal king. These men own the air you breathe and dominate every aspect of life in the areas they control. Porous borders, a smorgasbord of weapons, warlords, religious manipulation, lack of infrastructure, localized agrarian economics, limited educational opportunities, xenophobia, informants and a dedicated insurgency are all just a part of what makes Afghanistan such a bitter and difficult place for Western-minded folks to effectively function. Mi-sunderstandings about how their family/tribal methods of getting things done are rampant. Afgha-nistan is all about relationships—real relationships at the family level. Doing a tour has a minimal effect and is lessened when our forces (military and aid-related) visit a village and then retreat back to their fortifications. Granted, we need a strong arm in Afghanistan because Afghans do under-stand and respect power, but we also need to invest the time, labor and risk at the lowest level of community. Until you share in their hardships and improve their basic existence you will be viewed as a spoiled “tourist” who has free stuff to give away. Renting loyalty is different than earning commitment. We have to help Afghans help themselves. They might belong to one of the most impoverished nations in the world, but the people are proud and very stubborn. Don’t confuse uneducated with stupid, either. They are cunning, clever and hard-working. I can sum up Afghanistan with three dichotomies: loyal vs. treacherous; romantic vs. practical; bellicose vs. peaceful. The country is a place of extremes. My dad’s story, even though it’s fictional, captures the essence of how beautiful, yet how ugly, Afghanistan can be simultaneously .

January 13, 2010

The Rialto Music Hall Ghosts

Filed under: Ghosts — Tags: , , — R. Harper Mason @ 4:07 pm

The stories about mysterious sounds and smells have been almost continuous since the early days of the theater. Gabriel, a young employee during the 1990s had multiple encounters with a ghost during his employment at the theater. The most vivid occurred late one evening when he saw something in the main auditorium which made him nearly incoherent. Ms. Williams, the theater manager, who was with Gabriel, describes it this way; “We were in the main auditorium one night—it was around 10:00 P. M.—-and we were walking down the aisles. He was on the right-hand side, and about a third of the way down. He started looking up and started rotating just turning as if he were watching something in the ceiling. I kept asking him what was going on, and he just got hysterical and started screaming at me. ‘Don’t you see it? Don’t you see it?’ I never saw anything, and when he finally got coherent, he said it was like a cloud of mist and that it floated across the ceiling and went into the balcony—right through the balcony wall. He definitely saw something, and he smelled the perfume.”

Deer Delicacies

Filed under: Arkansas redneck tales — Tags: , , , — R. Harper Mason @ 4:00 pm

Deer Delicacies

Yep, we got them deer this year! Heck, we shot ‘em with bows and arrows, muzzleloaders, and AK 47s, not to mention the thirty-aught sixes. Did we do any good? Sure did. The papers were full of dead deer pictures and proud hunters, from a four-year-old Porker’s Chapel shooter to a 90 year old geezer from Bigfoot.
Now, with a freezer full of deer meat, we’re in good shape as we enter the second year of the George ‘Herbert Hoover’ Bush Depression, and, since we’re going to eat a lot of deer, this is a great time for some of our kitchen heroes to really get creative. Heck, I’ll bet we’ve got some Arkansas cooks that would whip up some tasty dishes of unusual deer delicacies, if given the ingredients. So guys, step up to the plate, and if you whack a big buck, don’t toss the mountains oysters out on the side of the road, like you do the innards and hide. Bring ‘em home for Momma to cook. Well, she may take a little time to feel comfortable with a mess of mountain oysters, but heck, if those Cajun or Chinese cooks can handle blood sausage and pig’s ears, she’ll relish whipping up a batch of poached mountain oysters, or maybe
something French, like mountain oysters sautéed in their own juices. Makes your mouth water, don’t it?
But there’s so much more. You know, if you’ve watched some of those exotic food shows on TV, there’re a lot of animal parts, we usually throw to the dog, that other folks eat. Let’s start with deer tongue? Deer tongue? Sure, the French would rather eat horse or cow tongue than a sirloin steak. How about a sliced and fried deer tongue sandwich on toasted white bread for junior’s lunch? I’ll guarantee you he’ll have a school lunch that will really stand out.
But folks we haven’t scratched the surface when it comes to edible deer parts. How about sautéed deer brains as a side dish this Christmas? I know you think I’m pulling your leg, but no. In south Arkansas, when we had fried squirrel for supper, grandmother would pounce on the head like it was a crown jewel, and then give that squirrel head several stout licks with the end of a knife to crack it. Usually, after a lick or so the eyeballs would shoot out, and if you weren’t careful, you’d have to wipe a squirrel eyeball off your forehead before you could dig in. Well, after Grandmother cracked the head, she’d dig out the brains and plop them in her mouth.
“Hummmmm! The very best part of the squirrel!” She’d always say.
Okay, if Grandmother can eat squirrel brains, what about deer brains? Don’t we eat calf brains? So guys, when you bring home a big buck, get out the hammer, whack that deer head, pull out a mess of brains and throw ‘em in the sink. Then say, “Honey, I want them brains medium rare.”
Well, there’s so much more tasty food we can get from a deer. Just think of the unusual dishes we’d get, if we’d let a Cajun, Chinese, and a French cook into an Arkansas kitchen, and plop down a mess of special deer parts for them to work on. Shoot, they’d come up with dishes that would make your stomach do flips. Just think of Cajun deer blood sausage or fried chitlins, or maybe Chinese Deer Hoof Soup, or Tibetan Candied Eyeballs.
Well, cooking is one thing, but every good cook needs fresh ingredients, so this may take a trip to the deer camp. I strongly recommend you arrive well before lunch. An arrival late in the day would be embarrassing to all, and instead of getting your special ingredients, you’d probably be recruited to head for the hospital with those hunters that had staggered into the campfire. So, try to arrive around 11:00 A. M. just as the hunters are coming in from a morning hunt and pick out the biggest deer of the bunch. Then, pointing to the big deer, say,
“Bubba, get me two fruit jars of blood, the tongue, the mountain oysters, eyes, ears, innards, and, oh yeah, don’t forget the hooves and put ‘em in this Wal-Mart sack.”
After you have your sack full of delicacies, thank everyone, and say this, “What time is supper? Y’all have been so helpful, I’m gonna go home and cook these up, and I’ll be back later to serve them. Don ‘t bother to cook tonight.”
Well, don’t bother to show back up either, because the guys will spend the rest of the day moving camp .

January 6, 2010

Lyin’ Like a Dog…the redneck character

Filed under: Arkansas redneck tales,Richard the Paperboy — Tags: , , , — R. Harper Mason @ 3:44 pm

In the novel, Lyin’ Like a Dog there is man who is, without a doubt, a mean reneck. This is Richard’s first encounter with him.

“Dang, the sound just echoed through the woods, and I nearly jumped outta my skin ’cause a bullet smacked into a tree right beside me and bark flew out and stung my arm. Shoot, Sniffer jerked away and took off like a scalded dog.
“What in the world?” I yelled. “Who’s shootin’ at us?”
Heck, we were scared just absolutely outta our minds, and we didn’t move an inch ’cause we were afraid whoever was shooting at us might shoot again.
“That’s far enough, boys!” yelled somebody from up in front of us.
I jumped about three feet again when that fella yelled, and then he stepped out from behind a big pin oak tree holding a rifle. My gosh, he was one of the worst-looking men I’d ever seen. He had on an old crumpled felt hat and some ragged overalls with a blue work shirt pulled over them, and he was wearing some old beat-up work shoes with shoelaces hanging off the side. He had a stub of a cigar in his mouth and a kinda scruffy “I ain’t shaved in a while” look. Shoot, that guy looked as mean as some slimy snake.
It took us a little bit to calm down, and then I hollered back, “Why’d you shoot at us?” Well, I kinda threw out my shoulders like I was all put out and stuck my fingers in my belt.
“Hell, son, I didn’t shoot at you. If I’d shot at you, you’d be dead right now. I shot at that tree to get your attention.” He pulled the cigar outta his mouth, spit a stream of tobacco juice toward us, and gave us a sneer like “Y’all messing with the wrong man.”
“Whata you mean? We ain’t doing nothin’, just walkin’ ’long the creek bank,” I said. “Shootin’ at somebody’s against the law!”
“You’re trespassin’—comin’ on private property―and I’m the law in these woods. You understand that?” The man shifted his gun to his other hand like he was maybe gonna point it at us again, and I began to get real worried.
Well, I’m a little bit of a smart aleck, and I put my hands on my hips and stepped forward.
“Naw, I don’t understand that ’cause we ain’t a-trespassin’; this is Parson’s Timber Company land, and it ain’t posted or nothin’. Heck, we’re always roamin’ round on Parson’s land. Do you work for Parson’s?”
“Naw, I don’t work for no damn timber company, but if I say this is private property, then its private property. You understand that, boy?”
Well, the man kinda shifted his rifle again and gave us another hard look.
“Richard, shut up―let’s get outta here,” John Clayton whispered.
But shoot, I knew durn well we weren’t trespassing, and I just kept going on and on.
“Naw, it ain’t private property, and even if it is, you ain’t got the right to shoot at us just for walkin’ down the creek. We could have you arrested!” I kinda yelled that arrested part and shook my finger at him.
Dang, that was a big mistake ’cause, after I shook my finger at the man, he kinda squinted his eyes and his lips curled down. Whoa, I knew right then I shouldn’t have done that ’cause that man kinda leaned his head forward like he couldn’t believe I’d talked back to him, and then he licked his lips real mean. Then, my good lord, he raised his gun.
“Y’all is gonna regret pokin’ round down in this swamp!” he yelled.
“Dang! Dang! Dang!” I whispered to John Clayton. The hair on the back of my neck just stood straight up, and I stopped breathing.
“Oh my god, don’t!” yelled John Clayton, who was already backing away.
“Ahaaaaa, don’t shoot us!” I screamed, and, heck, I was running before them words was outta my mouth. ’Course, John Clayton did the same thing, and then I just nearly dropped dead of a heart attack.
Boom!
There was a rifle shot and dirt kicked up, and wow, did we turn it on. We flew through them big woods like nothing you’ve ever seen, and then, just as we started to slow down, another boom sounded, and a bullet tore through the trees above our heads. ’Course, that put us in high gear again, and we must have run another half-mile before we stopped. Well, we’d just stopped running when Sniffer, that cowardly dog, came sneaking outta the woods with his tail between his legs, giving me that “I’m so sorry I run off,” whiny look. John Clayton was panting like he’d run five miles.”

Lyin’ Like a Dog will be released March 1. If you would like to review this novel, please contact me. I only ask that you post your review on Amazon.com.

Richard, the paperboy, from The Red Scarf, Jan. 1945, #25

Filed under: Richard the Paperboy — Tags: , , , — R. Harper Mason @ 3:35 pm

The boys and all the characters from The Red Scarf return in the sequel, Lyin’ Like a Dog. The sequel, which will be released March 1st, picks up the day after the Christmas Eve ending of The Red Scarf. Richard, the paperboy, tells the story. The paragraph below is Richard’s intro into the story.
“’Course, not everything that happened to me last year was just things you’d laugh at. Heck, there was some upsetting things and some stuff that just scared the beejesus outta me. Well, most of the exciting stuff happened after last Christmas, and as the months passed things just got all wound up. Heck, there was times I thought me and John Clayton was goners for sure. Wow, some of them things were so wild you’d never believe them in a million, zillion years. Huh? You wanna hear about ’em―every little thing? Well, okay, now listen up, ’cause some stuff that happened might sound kinda made up, but it ain’t. Promise, cross my heart.”

If you are a book reviewer and would like to review this novel, please contact me and I will send you a pre-release copy to review. I only ask that you post your review on Amazon.com reviewing post.

Haunted…in El Dorado, Arkansas

Filed under: Ghosts — Tags: , , , — R. Harper Mason @ 3:25 pm

El Dorado seems to have ghosts in every nook and cranny. As I was compiling a book about various sighting, several people contacted me and gave me their acount of paranormal experiences they had in or around the city. I have included an especially interesting one from Montana Staples, age 10.

“I have a story that happened to me when I was nine years old at Mr. Vergil Amason’s funeral at Bethel Cemetery. After the preacher gave his announcement, I happened to glance over at the three black men floating in thin air. One had a pipe and real fancy clothing, just sitting in the air. The other two also had fancy clothing on, standing in the air. At first I thought they were the men who were going to bury the body. So I looked over to the other side of the field and realized they were not. They looked like rich men in 1950s outfits. I felt chill bumps all over my body! I asked Barbra Nelson (who was there with me) if she saw what was out in the field. She said she couldn’t see anything but open ground. Right then and there I knew they were ghosts. When we were leaving I didn’t see them anywhere! It was spooky!
P. S.= Now I’m ten years old.”
Sincerely
Montana Staples
628 East 3rd Street
El Dorado, Ar 71730

Downtown trees…for wildlife?

Filed under: Downtown Stories,Natural Solutions — Tags: , , — R. Harper Mason @ 3:15 pm

In many of our towns and cities, downtown improvement associations, city governments, and interested individuals have joined together to plant trees. They look nice, and many of them cover up some unsightly architecture. But do trees in downtown provide other uses? How about wildlife habitat? I know that sounds strange, but let’s take a closeer look at downtown trees as they relate to wildlife.
First, let me say that my hometown, El Dorado, Arkansas, has a master plan for downtown tree planting. The year by year implementation of this plan has resulted in over 800 trees planted. My comments here are being written as I look into a downtown that is literally full of trees.
El Dorado’s downtown trees are a mix of Ornamental Pear,(actually a bad selection) Live Oak, Red Oak, Sycamore, and Sweet Gum extending out over a twenty block area.
These trees have matured to the point where they rise above the mostly two story buildings in the downtown. As they have gotten larger, their use by wildlife has increased. Numerous downtown trees are now roosting areas for a wide variety of birds. Granted, not all of our downtown birds are the most desirable of the species, but on the whole, the cumulative effect of several thousand birds in a downtown is positive. As the trees have gotten larger, nesting has occured. On a recent trip to Houston, I passed a mall with several Pear Trees planted in a parking area. In one tree, I counted six nests. In several major cities, the downtown trees, which have attracted a general mix of smaller birds, have brought in hawks and falcons which prey on these birds. Several falcons have even nested on building ledges, adapting to tall buildings as if they were mountains. Recently in Chicago, one of the most popular public television programs was a still television camera trained on a falcon’s nest.
Spring comes to my downtown with the Pear Trees in full bloom. Honey bees by the thousands invade the city to work the pear blossoms. In the fall as acorns fall from the numerous oaks, birds feast on the acorns crushed by cars or pedestrians. At night, when the opossums, raccoons, and skunks roam our back alleys, our trees serve as a place of refuge or as a spot to prey on the roosting birds.
It may sound unlikely, but just the presence of hundreds of trees in an otherwise sterile downtown setting is conducive to wildlife. Birds crossing from one area to the next pause in our trees and squirrels dart across traffic from one tree to the next.
Across the country, thousands of trees have been planted in downtowns. Each one of these trees is looked upon by wildlife as either a source of food or shelter. When the tree planting is supplemented by the addition of shrubs or other low bush planting, the wildlife usage jumps. Vacant lots or even parking areas can be mini wildlife corridors by merely planting trees, shrubs, and grasses along their back edges. As more and more habitat is lost to urban development, these city trees and shrubs become more and more attractive to wildlife.
And finally, one more good reason to plant downtown trees; lower utility bills for your downtown merchants. No, it’s not only because of the shade of the leaves, it’s more complicated than that. When our first satellites carrying heat sensors scanned the country, they immediately detected hot spots in every town and city of any size. If you have ever walked across a blacktop highway barefoot, you understand how asphalt, concrete, and other building materials hold heat. The average downtown is sometimes 10 degrees hotter than the surrounding countryside. When the satellite data was closely analyzed, certain areas within a city would stand out as cooler than other areas. It became very clear that cities with parks and downtown trees were substantially cooler than a city without trees. A downtown with good tree planting can have midsummer temperatures as much as 10 degrees cooler than a comparable city without trees. Translate that to your electric bill and you can have as much as a $50.00 to $100.00 a month reduction.
So the next time you look at your downtown, try to imagine a beautiful tree every 25 feet along every street. What a difference it would make. A difference not only for wildlife, but as a beautiful addition to a bare street and as a cooling agent for those hot Arkansas summers.

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