A Work in Progress

When I was a young boy, my favorite place in the entire world provided shelter from the blistering summer sun beneath twisted, tangled California Live Oaks. The arroyo lay carpeted in a crisp bed of fallen leaves, beneath which water always flowed. Toward dusk, living creatures moved from their dens and resting places--small amphibians, birds and mammals--coming out to hunt, or be hunted. (If you have Google Earth, you can enter this address: 3001 Scholl Canyon Road, Glendale, California. The place to which I refer is now buried 174 feet beneath this location.)

The contrast between the busy streets of my home town and this quiet place, which lay within a thirty minute bike ride of my house, drew me with increasing frequency as I grew older. My mother never complained when I brought new "pets" home. I kept tadpoles in a jar, toads and snakes in a terrarium, then dutifully returned them to the "wild" after observing their behavior for a little while.

The day I saw an army of bulldozers arrive, my heart sank. Although somebody once told me that the subspecies of California Live Oak native to the San Rafael hills where I grew up lived in no other place on earth, the giant machines knocked them to the ground without mercy. In their place, a massive, fetid, noisome mountain of garbage rose toward the sky. I vowed to leave that place and live somewhere far away, where my new "favorite place" could remain pristine. I swore that I would forsake California for Canada.

Although that memory has faded, and its impact muted by a myriad of different experiences, somehow it retains an influence over my attitude toward people and the world I observe. It could be a better place, if something within us would change . . .

That restless desire to instigate a revolution lies at the core of what motivates me to write. I put words on paper in the naive belief that somehow you will be different after my work has been read. This is not arrogance--merely hope. You may find common threads woven into the fabric of our experiences as a common people, for we are bound by more than than the minor things that divide us.

Like you, I have a history and family.  Most people think my life has been interesting and unusual.

Although I was born in Glendale, California, my mother returned to Brasil when I was very young.  I have no recollection of living there, but when we came back to the United States, I'd developed a habit of blending English with Portuguese.  The kids in my neighborhood thought this was funny.

The highlight of my childhood involved membership in the California Boys Choir, under the direction of Douglas Neslund (extreme right), with stage direction by Robert Rogers (extreme left).  I'm the second boy standing in the front row on the left side.  This choir was full of talented singers, of which my skill ranked among the most shallow.  I had to work harder than everyone else to keep my position!

We performed in many venues during that era.  Perhaps the most significant for me involved singing with the New York City Opera Company on its west coast tour.  In this photo, I'm dressed as an orphan for the opera, Der Rosencavalier.  People who don't understand music like to poke fun at opera, believing that all a singer needs is volume and excessive vibrato to successfully perform.  Of course, those people have never actually sung such high-end music and have no clue of how much work is involved in performing at that level.  I didn't do much in Der Rosencavalier aside from pleading with Baron Ochs as if he was my father, and dancing a waltz with a very attractive, red-haired woman from New York!  Anyone who thinks its effeminate to wear this much makeup doesn't realize that I'm so pale I'd simply vanish under the glare of the stage lights.  Also, how else could I possibly manage to waltz with a beautiful chorus girl?

I grew older, my voice changed and went through a very difficult time during my teen years.  There are very few pictures of me from that era, mostly because I was usually behind the camera rather than in front of it.  This photo comes from 1982, during my cousin Deborah's graduation.  She and I were emotionally close during this era, and while I was working on character development for the Deveran milieu.  We talked extensively about how the milieu would function as it transitioned from a "pure" science fiction world into a "high fantasy" world, then back toward something closer to early 20th century earth.

I developed an affinity for tinkering with cars in high school.  This is my 1975 V8 powered Monza, and during the period when this photo was taken I'd begun working on the early versions of The Edge of Justice.  Some readers have commented that my main characters seem very young, but 15 doesn't seem terribly young for a 20 year old writer!  I still enjoy working on my vehicles, though my need to build exceedingly powerful V8 machines has been tempered by environmental and practical concerns.  I have supercharged my four cylinder Ford Ranger, but our family car is a hybrid Toyota Camry.

My sweetheart and I have been happily married since 1989.  We've never quite gotten over that newlywed thing . . .

This photo comes from 1993.  I was teaching all subjects (except French) for grades 5 - 9 at a small, multigrade school in Penticton, British Columbia.  By this time, the main draft of The Edge of Justice had been completed and the story changed very little from this point forward.

While this is not a very good photograph, I wanted to show that music remains an integral part of my life.  I taught myself how to play guitar because I'd learned trumpet in school, but it was a little bit difficult to play trumpet and sing at the same time.  Furthermore, my best friend played a 12 string when we were in high school, and whenever he touched that instrument he became in irresistable girl magnet. 
Naturally, I thought playing the guitar would have the same effect (it didn't), but writing music has enabled me to express myself in a way that contrasts with writing prose and in some ways, delivers the emotions of my soul in a more powerful manner.  Don't let the 12 string fool you, though.  Nancy Wilson (of Heart fame) was my primary influence when I was learning to play, and even though she wrote some beautiful music, that woman has the soul of a rocker!  Though I have a very broad and eclectic taste for music, the influence of Nancy Wilson, Led Zepplin, Rush and King's X on my guitar playing is obvious.

Knowing what to reveal and what to conceal on this page is not an easy task.  Some authors prefer to keep their private lives private, while others bask in the attention they receive by revealing details of their experience on their web sites.  Some people think I like attention, but in reality, I'm far better in small groups than I am attending large social functions.  I will proudly say, however, that I remain happily married, I'm the father of two boys, and I live in Sardis, British Columbia.

At times, I have felt God’s grace touch my life, and at other times, I’ve longed to be the instrument of God’s grace. I am restless for change and I long for paradise, glimpsing it fleetingly from afar. Thus, I remain a work in progress.

Would you like to contact me?  This is my e-mail address: robert@newadventure.ca

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