Douglas B. Wimmer's Blog

“Ain’t no coincidence, Henry. Ain’t no coincidence at all,” Rulon Taylor said as he lifted a wooden crate from the dirt floor of the farmhouse barn. He wore a derby, and a brown vest, unbuttoned. 41 with the build of a much younger man, he lifted the crates without much trouble. The bottles inside rattled as he strode across the straw-covered ground and carefully set it inside the back of a milk truck backed up in open barn doors.

Henry Sterne, years Rulon’s junior but with the build of a muc...

“Where are we going?” Lacey asked, cooing as she cracked the seal on a Snapple and tucking the cellophane into the ’71 Karmann Ghia’s door pocket. The cool fall mountain air whipped around the windshield and tangled her long auburn hair in knots behind her as she took a gulp of her strawberry-kiwi beverage.

A Foo Fighters song warbled out of the tinny speakers and budget aftermarket tape deck and Lacey’s long-time boyfriend, James turned it up, smirking as he turned the steering wheel to hug...

“Astonishing,” Dr. Alice Gelding said, squinting through a high-powered magnifying glass at the walls of an ancient Egyptian chamber. Alice’s long brunette hair, grey with dust, tucked away from her round face. Sweat dribbled from every pore, caking mud on already drying layers of dirt.

            “What did you find, doctor?” her colleague, Dr. Tim Shoshlefski, asked as he positioned a large spotlight on Alice’s position of the dig. He was tiny by every measure that could apply: tiny eyes, t...

Sorry about the dodgy focus here. I'm a writer trying not to look like a creeper. Not a photographer.

On the flight to the biannual trade show in Vegas, I had the pleasure of sitting next to two young ladies from Chicago for the hour or so plane ride. Prior to boarding, I had hoped I would sit next to someone interesting. I got my wish.

There wasn't more than a 30-second lull in their conversation. At first, I rolled my eyes and thought of putting in my earbuds to drown out the chatter. Inste...

It was nearing midnight on a cool Arizona night in February when I pulled my old drop-top Chrysler over to the side of the quiet Gilbert street. Jared and Alex stayed in the car while I shifted into park and popped open the door, screwdriver in hand. I moved to the back of the car, looking around the area to make sure we weren’t being watched, then dropped down to my haunches and detached the license plate, throwing it into the trunk.

    I hopped over the door and back into the driver’s seat,...

 I was too young to remember why the neighbor boys were in charge of watching me for the day. What I do remember are the swear words that they threw out when they took me to their house to pick up something they needed. I hadn’t heard most of them before but the ones I did know I knew weren’t nice. I’d have gotten my mouth soaped if I used any of them.

    After leaving the house, the older, thinner one, Scott, perched me between his handlebars and started pedaling. 

    “Why’d you talk to your...

I have heard that if someone is allergic to bees, a sting can be fatal. I’ve never been tested for bee allergies. So, when I felt the hot, stealthy needle of pain pierce my forearm while sitting around a campfire a couple of weeks ago, my immediate reaction was to mash the crap out of it with my other hand to kill it.

See, my sleeve was rolled down at the time. Buttoned even. I did not see a bee/wasp/rusty needle enter my shirt from the collar or the sleeve. Didn’t feel it on my arm at all unt...

Monday was my day off from my full time job. I am usually pretty productive on my days off, but occasionally I get lazy and nap and/or watch TV. This previous Monday was one of my more ambitious ones, though I think I ruined my house. 

The master bath (The one I use, naturally. Because: MASTER.) has a standing shower and a full-size, separate tub. Both have been dripping for as long as I can remember. I did not consider fixing them for a few reasons. One: it seems like a lot of work. Two: I ha...

I enjoy editing. It's something that, for whatever reason, I really enjoy doing. I will spend hours every day poring over a manuscript and doing everything in my power to make someone else's work really shine. I'll use all of my abilities and learn as I go in order to do an even more complete job on my next job, and repeat the process again and again. I study manuals of style and search for obscure rules so I can make sure the edits I am doing are correct. It is part of my job, but even still...

I am not one to post a book on my blog very often, but with this new book from author Debi V. Smith, I felt I needed to do so. Why? Some would assume it is because Debi and I are friends and have been for a few years now. However, That would be short-selling this excellent book.

No, the real reason I have decided to post about this book is because it is a book that needs to be read. A book about clinical depression seen through the eyes of not only the one suffering from the affliction, but t...