"Patrick Douglas can wind a terse, unnerving tale that hits the colloquial heart like a hammer. His writing is realistic, yet leaves enough room of the unrealistic to thrive mightily. Definitely a young writer that'll make/leave a mark in horror over the next decade and more."
- Philip Anselmo, Pantera/Down.
When I was a junior at Rocky Mountain High School in Fort Collins, Colorado, I struggled mightily in my English Literature class. It wasn’t for lack of respect for classic novels nor was it because I didn’t have the ability to write papers detailing my deepest thoughts on such things. My mind was elsewhere. When we were charged with reading “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” in that class, I read 20 pages and stopped, opting to fail the lesson rather than continue with the book. When I was asked to read “Clan of the Cave Bear” that same year in Anthropology, I watched the film instead, failing miserably when the teacher specifically baited the test to see who read it and who watched it.
I could not have cared less.
As a senior, I was forced to take that English Lit class again as it was a requirement for graduation. Again, I chose to avoid the actual literature aspect and daydream. Those last two years of high school were the toughest of my life on a personal level and the last thing I wanted to do was read a book that was published in the days of horse-drawn buggies. What did they have to offer me in my horrible dilemma at home?
My slackadaisical attitude all changed when I was notified of a true dilemma involving my chances of graduating. English Literature was a course that had to be passed to meet the requirements to earn a degree and I had already done enough to fail it for a second straight year. For every other subject, I was considered an early graduate but that English Lit credit hung like a dark cloud over all I had accomplished in my twelve years in public school. There was one solution offered by my high school – I could take a correspondence course with a state college and attempt to earn the credit through an intensive reading course. It was my only option.
The course was offered through Southern Colorado (now Colorado State University-Pueblo) and was simple in design but overwhelming in execution – read 10 science fiction books cover-to-cover in a month and take tests on the content of each one. The only freedom I enjoyed in this task was that I got to choose the 10 books from a list of 20 or 30.
With my home effectively broken and my mother headed to Montana, it was decided that my best option to complete the reading would be to spend a month with my father in Florida. The first book I circled on my list was “Jurassic Park,” by Michael Crichton. This was May of 1993 and the blockbuster movie was slated to come out in June and was being talked about on every channel on TV. Had it been out already, you can bet I would’ve begun my trek into reading the books with a visit to the movie theater. I will forever be glad I didn’t have that option.
I found the book to be an amazing journey that I just couldn’t put down. It was incomprehensible to think that I was given access to such an awesome story and I felt like I was getting a sneak preview of the movie that no one else had. I went on to the next book, “The Caves of Steel,” by Isaac Asimov. Then I dove head first into “The Starcrossed,” by Ben Bova; "The Difference Engine," by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling; “The Puppet Masters,” by Robert A. Heinlein; “The Dream Master,” by Roger Zelazny and “The Princess of Mars,” by Edgar Rice Burroughs. I couldn’t get enough as the books brought on tests which brought on more books and more tests.
I got through all 10 books with time to spare and passed all of my tests with no drama.
What I earned through that boot camp of reading wasn’t just a diploma but a passion for the art of writing that would shape my life forever. I joined my mom in Montana and without a plan for my future grabbed a phone book to find a job. I wanted to write. The first phone call I made was to the Great Falls Tribune and after a hiccup here and there, was eventually brought on board as a sports clerk. I’ve been writing for the newspaper ever since I was hired in 1994.
I began writing books in 1999 with “Game Seven” and, as I’m sure is the case with many novice writers, wanted to see if I could do it. Could I take an idea and form a coherent story with it that others could enjoy and comprehend? I married a wonderful woman who is a teacher, serial reader and the best in-home editor anyone could ask for and she would be there for every story. The stars aligned and the book writing commenced.
Today there is nothing more satisfying than finishing a novel and seeing the reaction from readers. I sometimes look back at those days in high school when I couldn’t be bothered with reading and regret my attitude at the time but, just like so many other troubled kids in every generation, had to experience that lull to find the passion later down the road.
What began as a mission where I spent day after day sitting on that lawn chair under the hot Florida sun with a book in my hand continues today as I sit in my easy chair with an open laptop, trying to write stories that I hope impact someone the way I was at one point.
I owe a great deal of thanks to my wife who has read every word, the tragedy of my youth and the great sci-fi writers that helped me find my way out of it.
Welcome to the home page of weirdo author, Patrick E. Douglas.
I could not have cared less.
As a senior, I was forced to take that English Lit class again as it was a requirement for graduation. Again, I chose to avoid the actual literature aspect and daydream. Those last two years of high school were the toughest of my life on a personal level and the last thing I wanted to do was read a book that was published in the days of horse-drawn buggies. What did they have to offer me in my horrible dilemma at home?
My slackadaisical attitude all changed when I was notified of a true dilemma involving my chances of graduating. English Literature was a course that had to be passed to meet the requirements to earn a degree and I had already done enough to fail it for a second straight year. For every other subject, I was considered an early graduate but that English Lit credit hung like a dark cloud over all I had accomplished in my twelve years in public school. There was one solution offered by my high school – I could take a correspondence course with a state college and attempt to earn the credit through an intensive reading course. It was my only option.
The course was offered through Southern Colorado (now Colorado State University-Pueblo) and was simple in design but overwhelming in execution – read 10 science fiction books cover-to-cover in a month and take tests on the content of each one. The only freedom I enjoyed in this task was that I got to choose the 10 books from a list of 20 or 30.
With my home effectively broken and my mother headed to Montana, it was decided that my best option to complete the reading would be to spend a month with my father in Florida. The first book I circled on my list was “Jurassic Park,” by Michael Crichton. This was May of 1993 and the blockbuster movie was slated to come out in June and was being talked about on every channel on TV. Had it been out already, you can bet I would’ve begun my trek into reading the books with a visit to the movie theater. I will forever be glad I didn’t have that option.
I found the book to be an amazing journey that I just couldn’t put down. It was incomprehensible to think that I was given access to such an awesome story and I felt like I was getting a sneak preview of the movie that no one else had. I went on to the next book, “The Caves of Steel,” by Isaac Asimov. Then I dove head first into “The Starcrossed,” by Ben Bova; "The Difference Engine," by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling; “The Puppet Masters,” by Robert A. Heinlein; “The Dream Master,” by Roger Zelazny and “The Princess of Mars,” by Edgar Rice Burroughs. I couldn’t get enough as the books brought on tests which brought on more books and more tests.
I got through all 10 books with time to spare and passed all of my tests with no drama.
What I earned through that boot camp of reading wasn’t just a diploma but a passion for the art of writing that would shape my life forever. I joined my mom in Montana and without a plan for my future grabbed a phone book to find a job. I wanted to write. The first phone call I made was to the Great Falls Tribune and after a hiccup here and there, was eventually brought on board as a sports clerk. I’ve been writing for the newspaper ever since I was hired in 1994.
I began writing books in 1999 with “Game Seven” and, as I’m sure is the case with many novice writers, wanted to see if I could do it. Could I take an idea and form a coherent story with it that others could enjoy and comprehend? I married a wonderful woman who is a teacher, serial reader and the best in-home editor anyone could ask for and she would be there for every story. The stars aligned and the book writing commenced.
Today there is nothing more satisfying than finishing a novel and seeing the reaction from readers. I sometimes look back at those days in high school when I couldn’t be bothered with reading and regret my attitude at the time but, just like so many other troubled kids in every generation, had to experience that lull to find the passion later down the road.
What began as a mission where I spent day after day sitting on that lawn chair under the hot Florida sun with a book in my hand continues today as I sit in my easy chair with an open laptop, trying to write stories that I hope impact someone the way I was at one point.
I owe a great deal of thanks to my wife who has read every word, the tragedy of my youth and the great sci-fi writers that helped me find my way out of it.
Welcome to the home page of weirdo author, Patrick E. Douglas.
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