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"I've always felt I should write." says Mike. "For as long as I can remember, I would escape to a quiet place put down my thoughts and feelings. As I matured, my writing matured. One day I decided to focus my efforts on one genre. From that point forward I concentrated on poetry."
Mike has had a thirty five year career writing poetry. However, Mike excells in several genre publishing poetry, plays, articles, curriculum, and a variety of prose from self help books to shortstories and mysteries. Mike is currently involved in a variety of book projects including an autobiographical account God Calls a Poet.Mike's self help titles include The Single Dad's Survival Guide and The Wonderfully Chaotic Blended Family.
Below we have included samples of Mike's work and relevant links. For information on freelance projects or classes and seminars please contact Mike at the following:
Mike Klumpp
PO Box 132
Dighton, Ks 67839
or for a rapid response e-mail Mike today.
Single Dad's Survival Guide
Miami Poetry Magazine
AuthorsDen.com
From the Wondefully Chaotic Blended Family
Blended families are a product of choice—the parents’ choice. The guiding mechanisms in each couple’s choices may be somewhat different. However, what is obvious is that whatever the felt need, too many couples enter into the blended family experience naively. The couple has a connection and a vision, but when reality strikes, everything crumbles. The divorce rate among blended families is high. According to WinningStepFamilies.com, 60 percent of all blended families end in legal divorce. The first time around is tough to make succeed; the second is incredibly difficult. You have to be prepared, realistic, thick-skinned, fully committed, and ready for just about anything. Then your marriage has a chance.
I know, because I’ve been there. After five years of single parenting my four children, I married again. I brought my four children into the new family, and my wife added two of her own. The stakes were high, and the game began. Since that time we have raised the bet with a child of our own. And then, as if the situation weren’t already volatile enough, we opened our home to the son of a relative. Now if that ain’t blended, then nothing is!
Daily Grind an oldschool murder mystery.
Doug arrived at the loading dock on the tracks outside the riverfront warehouse. He looked from side to side surveying the territory. Then, Doug pulled himself up onto the concrete loading dock. To the right, he saw two uniforms standing and talking. The entrance to the warehouse was already marked off in yellow tape. As Doug passed the patrolmen they both nodded. One reached up taking off his hat and said “You got a dilly, Sarge. Wait’l ya see dis.”
Doug smiled, crossed the police tape and went on into the warehouse. In the far corner by a back entranceway was a gathering of officers and Jerry. There were the flashes of a photographer and a few lights set up to compensate for the growing darkness as night was setting in. On the ground a large black trash bag seemed to be getting all the attention.
As Doug crossed the warehouse Jerry walked over to meet him. Sticking out his hand to shake Doug’s, Jerry began. “Where yat, Doug? We got a wild one here. No head, no hands. Just a cut up torso it looks like. A mess, man.”
The two detectives crossed over to the crime scene. Doug was quiet, absorbed in the details of the scene. Jerry continued to talk. “The body was brought here and left. No bricks no nothing. Don’t know if they were gonna try to throw it in the river or not. If they were, they didn’t plan on it sinking. Kinda rules out a professional job. Funny thing is, the bag looked stashed in the corner, not dropped in a panic or a hurry like someone walked up unexpectedly. More like they were set there unitl later.”
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