Now that THADDEUS T. AND BARNABY has been officially released and is available for purchase on amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com, powells.com and other major online book sellers, I am preparing for the release of my next book, DISRUPTED AMBITIONS.

DISRUPTED AMBITIONS, is the true story of a promising young athelete whose high school dream of competing in the State Championship Wrestling Tournament is all but shattered when, at age sixteen, he develops life-threatening, bleeding ulcers.

With his strong will to live--and the incredible faith and hope of his parents, a very special football coach, and a talented and caring doctor--the young man survives the grueling operation that would save his life.

Still, determined to accomplish his high school dream, and not realizing the risks involved, he quietly and secretly begins the torturous and sometimes disappointing journey of trying to return to the same physical condition that he possessed before his medical problems began.

This insperational and emotion-filled book is meant not only to bring awareness to the symptoms and potential seriousness of ulcers, but also to provide a clear and distinct message to all: "Never give up your dream!"

This book is due for release near the end of 2008.

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Uncle Kent

On June 16, 2008 I lost my mother, Agnes E. Walsh. She was 82 years old. Mom was preceded in death by my dad, Edmund T. Walsh who died in 1990. They were married 48 wonderful years, and produced 5 children, 15 grandchildren, 22 great-grandchildren and 2 great-great grandchildren.

When we lost my dad, as you can imagine it was a very difficult and sad time for all of us. But for some reason, the passing of my mother was so much harder. Perhaps it's the realism of life hitting home---and of course the fact that both the ones that gave me life, no longer live---at least in this world, that is.

In trying to write something for my blog, all I could think about was Mom. So, instead of writing more stuff about my experiences as a youth, I decided I would just share a couple of the poems I had written for her many years ago. They were rough and unedited---but they came from the heart---and she loved them!

MY SECRET LOVE

On the first day that we met,

I'm sure it was love at very first sight,

Of all the woman in all the world,

This was the woman for me that was right.

She held me in her arms,

Giving me more love than any other woman could possibly give,

Sharing everything that she owned,

And I'll love this woman longer than this life I now live.

A woman who praises and protects me,

It feels like a dream,

She has won my love forever,

To me a saint she does seem.

She's a woman beyond compare,

And if it were mine to do all over again,

All those years with another I could not share,

For my choice would still be the same.

Her heart must surely be made of gold,

And her beauty can be matched by no other,

And I do love her so,

For this woman, is my wonderful mother.

MOTHER DEAR

Mother dear I love you so,

For all the things you say and do,

And all the years you've worked dear Mom,

To keep your children safe and strong.

You've given me a ton of love,

And I hope all this I'm worthy of,

So I give you all my love so true,

Because mother dear, I'm proud of you.

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Uncle Kent

About a quarter mile downstream from the place we called "the pond" there was an old abandoned wrecking yard, with a bunch of old cars and other junk lying all around. One day, while Jimmy and I were walking along Burnt Bridge Creek traveling to one of our fishing spots, we wandered up through the "junk yard". As we made our way through the piles of wrecked vehicles we noticed this scraggley, sad-looking old man standing by one of the old cars. He was dressed in dirty rags, worn-out shoes, and his face was so badly covered with scars and pock marks, that I don't think I could ever forget it. Then amazingly one day a few months later, while Jimmy and I were picking beans at a local bean farm we noticed an old man with a face heavily covered in scars and pock marks, only now he was clean shaven, dressed in newer cloths and shoes, and looked happy. He glanced over at us, and nodded his head as if he knew who we were. After we walked past him, Jimmy and I stopped and looked at each other. Jimmy said, "Did that face look familiar?"

I said, "It sure did. That's the old bum from the junk yard."

Jimmy said, "It looks like he's coming up in the world."

A few years later I would see him one final time. He was walking out of a clothing store in downtown Vancouver, dressed in a suit. From junkyard bum to bean field to Brooks Brothers: I still wonder today what happened to bring about this remarkable change. And I wonder what ever happened to him.

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Uncle Kent

Sometimes my friend, Jimmy Carter and I would take our fishing poles downstream from Leverich Park, to the place we called "the pond." "The pond" was filled with lots of bullfrogs and tadpoles, and a few trout, catfish and carp. Occasionally we would put a piece of red yarn on our fish hook, cast the line out on top of the swamp vegetation, and then jig it along in front of a bullfrog until he snapped at it. They were a lot of fun to catch. Once in a while, if we didn't have our fishing gear with us we would just wade around in the mud and muck trying to catch anything we could with our bare hands. It was a great thing to experience, and I never got tired of it, regardless of how old I got.

Along with catching little creatures of the pond with our hands, Jimmy learned the hard way that there are some things you need to avoid trying to catch. One day I was walking along Burnt Bridge Creek by myself, on my way to meet Jimmy at "the pond," when I noticed him running toward me, kind of hunched over. As he drew closer I could see he was holding his right hand up to his belly with his T-shirt wrapped around it. After he reached me I could see that his shirt was covered with and dripping blood. "What happened to you?" I cried. Jimmy removed the shirt from his hand and stuck it out so I could see. It was a mess; the fleshy web between his thumb and index finger was ripped all the way through for about an inch up into his hand.

I asked him how he cut it. He told me he didn't. He said he was walking towards "the pond" to meet me, when he saw a large muskrat swimming along the edge of the creek. So he snuck over behind the grass along the bank and grabbed it by the tail with his left hand. He said he was trying to grab it around the neck with his right hand when the thing somhow swung around and bit him. He said it wouldn't let go of his hand, so he finally released its tail, and when he did the muskrat's teeth ripped through his hand as it fell back into the water.

That incident certainly took care of our fishing trip for the afternoon. We immediately headed home to Jimmy's, so his mom could take him in for stitches and a tetanus shot. I asked him why he would ever try to catch a muskrat with his bare hands. He said he wasn't sure, but he never would again. We saw that muskrat swimming around in the creek every once in a while after that, but neither of us ever had the urge to bother the thing again.

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Uncle Kent

Recently, our local newspaper, The Columbian, wrote an article that featured my two children's books, Thaddeus T. and Barnaby and Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody in "The Mouse That Stirred on the Night Before Christmas". It tells of how as a young boy I found many exciting adventures playing in and along the banks of a small stream called Burnt Bridge Creek. Adjoining the creek was a pond where I would chase frogs and tadpoles and catch fish; and it is through those special childhood memories that I write many of my stories today.

Actually, a lot of those memories come from time I spent with a fellow I had developed a very unexpected friendship with. I was about eight years old when I met a kid by the name of Jimmy Carter. He was about a year older than I was and lived a few blocks down the street from our house---about halfway between my home and a neighborhood grocery store. Once in a while, when my mom needed milk or bread or something, she would let me walk down to the store for her. Whenever I bought something, the grocery clerk would drop mom's change into the bottom of the paper grocery bag. As I walked home, Jimmy would run up to me and tear the bag open, spilling the groceries and change on the ground. Then while I was busy picking up the groceries, he would grab the change and run off. This went on for some time, until Mom decided she'd had enough of it and called Mrs. Carter to complain. Mrs. Carter promised to have a talk with Jimmy, but it didn't help; he continued to tear my bag and steal the change. Finally one day Mom sent me to the store, and she said, "Now stick up for yourself, and don't let Jimmy Carter steal your change."

A little while later I came home all dirty and covered in grass stains, but the grocery bag was still in one piece. I smiled at her and said, "Look Mom, Jimmy didn't get your change this time!"

I won't say I won the battle that day---but I did win the war! After that, Jimmy and I became very close friends, spending hours, or even sometimes the whole day, playing and exploring along the banks of this wonderful little stream.

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Uncle Kent

My newest children's book, THADDEUS T. AND BARNABY, although not officially released as of yet, is now available for early purchase by calling the publisher, Vantage Press, Inc., toll free U.S./Canada 1-800-882-3273. Should you prefer to purchase on-line instead, pre-release orders may be placed through Amazon.com---they will notify you when the book becomes available.

If you would like a quick preview of this fun and adventurous story, just click on "What's Next", at the top of this page. From those that have already read the book I am hearing some exciting feedback; "the friendship between Thaddeus T. and Barnaby is more than just special---it's like a father and son; "the illustrations are both beautiful and at the same time, entertaining; "the story is truly captivating---my children want me to read it to them, over and over again."

A quick note about the books cover! The illustration, as seen on the website preview remains as it is, however, the print layout has been modified so that the title is now centered on the top of the page, the authors name has been expanded-upon at the bottom, and the coloring was adjusted to be warmer and gentler.

I hope you find as much joy in reading THADDEUS T. AND BARNABY, as I did in writing it!

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Uncle Kent

While growing up, my older brother Dan's greatest pleasure seemed to be, to harass and tease me. If it worked, and I became excited and angry, he would be totally thrilled. This all started when he was about one-and-a-half years old, (I believe at the time, I had just been born) and went on into our teens. On second thought---we are now both in our sixties and it is still going on. But the difference is, nowadays its all in fun, while back then it seemed like serious stuff.

During those early years I had a favorite game. Almost everyday after school, I would spend hours quietly playing by myself on the wooden floor at the top of the stairs, next to my bed. I had two different colored globs of clay that I would twist into tiny pieces about a quarter of an inch long, and stand them in line facing each other, as if they were two mighty armies charging into battle.

About that time, Danny, would come along squashing bunches of them with each step as he walked up the stairs to our bedroom area. Of course, I would scream and holler for Mom to make him go away. But then he would just turn-around and walk all-over them again as he traveled back down the stairs, as he was instructed by Mom.

A couple of years ago, while reminiscing, I was inspired to write about those days in a poem, Sibling Survival, and decided to give it to my brother for his birthday. Of course he loved it! So, even though it has now been some-what modified for publishing purposes, I thought I would go ahead and share it with you.

Sibling Survival

Kent Douglas Walsh

It was in the early spring many years ago. The skies were grey. Two

mighty armies met in the center of a large battlefield. A shot rang out;

a soldier fell. Then another! The battle began to rage. It was the war

of wars. Soldiers fell by the dozens. It was as if a large hand were sweeping

across these gallant men, crushing them into oblivion. Then the earth

began to rumble. The ground shook with massive tremors. They became

louder. Fear filled my heart as I saw him. A sick smile crossed his face

as he strode through the two hapless armies, crushing ten or twenty

soldiers with each step. I screamed in horror as he began to laugh.

He turned; again marching through these two proud forces, smashing bodies

as if they were made of mire. Again he laughed. Then the tremors faded.

The earth became calm. I breathed a sigh of relief as his laughter was finally

gone. Suddenly! As quickly as it had ended, the war was on again. Guns

blasing, soldiers falling, the war was raging. As the hours passed, men on

both sides fell to their mortal destruction. Finally it was over. Only one

remained. One lonely hero! I smiled as I cleaned the clay from the floor. For

it was I, that had survived!

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Uncle Kent

When it comes to poetry---I didn't just focus my writing on silly little rhymes for children, or loving romantic verses for my sweetheart. No! I've written a number of other things too. Things I guess you could say are more on the serious side. In fact, my favorite, a poem called Destination, has just recently been published for the very first time, so I thought I would share it with you!

Destination

On the edge of life we are riding

With the valley's of death below.

For a glorious future we are striving,

With failure and age as our foes.

We reach to grasp our horizons

With our blood, and our sweat, and our souls,

But just past our fingertips they are belying,

And our lives are spent trying to gain their control.

When our future has no tomorrow,

And our bodies return to the earth,

Let no man feel the pains of sorrow,

For this has been our destination

From the time of our birth.

Kent Douglas Walsh

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Uncle Kent

A few years ago, I wrote a poem called, "Perfect Strike" for my wife, Madeline, on Valentines Day. Usually for this type of special day, I would be very caring and cautious, as I sorted through the card section of a local store; always determined to select the right card with the right poem. But for this particular year, I wanted to give her something extra special. Something, from my heart to hers! So I decided, rather than go and buy another card written by someone else, I went ahead, and wrote one of my own.

As the years have gone by, every once in a while, Madeline, has removed the poem from the file folder where she keeps the many cards and notes I have given her over the years, and lovingly reads it, as if reading it for the very first time. Recently, after reading it several more times, she said, "You know something, Kent, this is so beautiful, I think you should put it in your blog for, Valentines Day".

At first I was hesitant; after all, this poem was written with only Madeline, me, and our family and close friends in mind. And I was worried that others may not appreciate its special meaning, quite the same as we do. None-the-less, after much thought, I decided to go ahead and include it. So here it is, and I hope you enjoy it!

Perfect Strike

Kent D. Walsh

It wasn't really long ago,

Our hearts had never met.

The dreams we dreamt could never be,

And our souls would never rest.

Then an arrow shot in the sky,

Found a place to set,

Bringing together two lonely hearts,

Creating happiness.

Cupid made a perfect strike,

When he fired that magic shot,

Not only changing our two lives,

But also those that watched.

We pledged unwavering love,

Until the end of time,

Now our dreams are coming true,

Because you, are my Valentine!

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Uncle Kent

Yesterday I received a letter from Vantage Press, Inc., the publisher of my new children's book, Thaddeus T. and Barnaby. They have just informed me...their Production Department has now released the book for printing and binding. And yes, I know it will still be a couple of months before it will be available for purchase, but none-the-less, it is exciting. I can hardly wait to see the finished product!

Thaddeus T. and Barnaby is one of those very special picture-storybook stories. It is filled with adventure, fun, humor and fantasy, and is similar in many respects to my first children's book, Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody in "The Mouse That Stirred on the Night Before Christmas". Both stories are thought provoking and involve lovable creatures of nature, and both were written with the goal of teaching young children valuable lessons of life.

If you would like to see a preview of Thaddeus T. and Barnaby, just click-on, "What's Next" on my web site: kentdwalsh.com.

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Kent

How quickly our holiday season has passed. Torn wrapping paper and bright colored ribbons scattered across our living room floor, have been picked up, and recycled. Beautiful decorations that adorned our wondrous artificial Christmas tree, are now back in their plastic covered boxes. The tree itself, has been disassembled and returned to a cardboard box, which is stored in its own private area, on the floor of a closet. All other signs of this very special occasion, have been removed and laid to rest, for another year. Still, as we finish our cleaning, and rearranging of furniture back to the way it was before, our hearts are warmed, as we continue to relive the wonderful memories of this incredible day, and will do so for the years to come.

Happy New Year!

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Kent

The original unedited, and incomplete manuscript of Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody in "The Mouse That Stirred on the Night Before Christmas", rested in the drawer of a desk for several months before I finally decided it was time to take another look at it. With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, I knew if I were going to present the story to my sister-in-law, Loretta, my brother Dan, and of course little Dustin, on Christmas Eve, I needed to hurry or it would never be finished in time.

Using an old beat-up typewriter with sticky keys, I rewrote my story. I placed it on 8.5 by 11 inch paper, and stapled the 9 pages (including the cover) together into book form. Unfortunately back then, there was no "spell check". So, for someone that had not mastered the art of spelling very well, my job was even more difficult than you might have imagined. Luckily I had some expertise when it came to using "white out".

As our large family gathered in the small living room of my parent's home on that very memorable Christmas Eve, I presented my, "work of art" to my brother's family. Everyone was so excited; if you hadn't known better, you would have thought I had just written an all-time best seller.

Next came the reading. Naturally, as the book's author I was the one they selected to read the story to the rest of the family. I was so nervous, but somehow mustered the courage to do it. As I read, I could see and feel Dustin and Cody's every move. The words seemed to go straight to my heart. I was happy and sad at the same time. My throat tightened, and tears welled up in my eyes as I turned the pages. Several times I had to stop and wait for the emotions to settle down, before I could go on. But all-in-all, it was wonderful, and certainly a Christmas I will never forget.

It's funny, still today, whenever I read Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody, I still feel those same emotions that I did back then. And you know something...it still makes me happy and sad at the same time...and it's still a wonderful story to read now and then.

Have a Merry Christmas!

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Kent

For your copy of Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody in "The Mouse That Stirred on the Night Before Christmas" to arrive before Christmas Day, your best bet is to buy directly from the order department at Vantage Press, Inc. They have indicated all book orders should be received within 3 to 5 business days from date of order. Their toll free number is 1-800-882-3273.

In checking with amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com and powells.com, at times, all three of them have temporarily run out of stock, with orders being on back order, while waiting for additional books to arrive. If you would prefer to buy from one of them, then please just continue checking their web sites for availability.

Although demand for this book has been high, Vantage Press, Inc. has plenty of books in stock, and has made a commitment to do everything possible to assure that all orders are delivered promptly and prior to the arrival of Christmas.

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Kent

As the first Christmas since the publication of Dustin and a Mouse Named Cody in "The Mouse That Stirred on the Night Before Christmas" approaches, I am delighted and excited to say, sales of my new book have been very brisk.

Over the past several weeks I have had a number of people ask if the book were available with book sellers other than just amazon.com. Of course I am happy to say, yes it is. In fact it is available with quite a number of them. If you would like to take a look at some of these other major online book sellers, let me suggest either barnesandnoble.com, or powells.com, or, if you would like to order direct from the publisher, Vantage Press, Inc., you may call toll free in the US and Canada at 1-800-882-3273.

I would like to wish you all a joyful and happy holiday season.

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Kent

This is the time of the year when all of us should give thanks to someone. It doesn't have to be for the same reason as everyone else--we can just give thanks to anyone or anything we choose: our god; our life; our family; our country; our health; our job; our friends; our successes; or whatever we want. Just so we thank someone for all the good that we have. And I do believe all of us has some good in our lives. It doesn't matter how bad it seems, if we look close enough we will probably find some good.

For me, this is the perfect time of year to write. With all the fun, laughter and excitement of the holiday season I just can't help but to think, reminisce, or fantasize about the silliest of things. It truly brings out the child in me.

Over the years the majority of my poetry and children's stories have been written between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now that doesn't necessarily mean they are all written about the holiday season. It just means that this time of year makes it easier for me to write. So in addition to being thankful for a whole bunch of other things in my life, I give thanks to that.

I wish you all a very happy and thankful Thanksgiving!

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Kent