The Odor of Orchids

When is a love story not a romance?

When the lives of strangers collide, as they do on a steam-hot August weekend.

Don Burbage, the good-looking sheriff deeply in love with his wife Peggy, wrestles with what commitment means as he works out a bloody event that happened in cabin six at the Buena Vista Motel.

Lyla, young, trapped in her youth and body, has to face what her youth and body have wrought upon her.

And enter the stranger, a photojournalist passing through in his big blue Pontiac convertible. He has just left the carnival of a Republican convention, heading to the same unrealities of the Democratic, when he stops for a walk in the woods.

He does not come out of them the same.

Website: http://www.charlesbechtel.com

Born: Spring Lake, North Carolina, April, 1953, fourth day, five minutes past midnight (thus late for my parents’ anniversary, which set a behavioral standard for all such future events.)

Educated: A long while back, when colleges offered to improve human beings attending their classes, not merely dedicate themselves to making a person employable. Ahh, the good old days.
Undergraduate degree: English.
Master degree: English.

Marriage: To Manuela, the finest woman on Earth, by the accounts of many more than myself. Two daughters: Elizabeth (Baby Beth) and Manuela (Meme), who each in turn delivered into my life some ladies of inestimable worth: Sky (b. 2003) Lucy (b. 2007) and Mia (b. 2008.) Though I gave to each huge chunks of my heart, doing so increased heart size.

Work History: Let’s say I worked.

What I do for fun:Everything. If it is not fun, I quickly stop doing it. (see Work, above)

Writing Philosophy: Make sense by appealing to the senses.