Author Bio
As for me, the ‘author’... what do you share in a Bio?
Confession: There was almost nothing to share. Or nothing real anyway. I gave serious consideration to using a pen name for fear that the trappings of a real life, no matter who's, might color reader perceptions in some way. I considered using the name, Calvin Lynard Pyle. If you've read the books and met him there in Amen Hale, then you understand how that choice (had I made it) could fit. What else I can say about Shane W. Shelton?
Here are some facts which I am reluctant to share, but feel obligated to do so. I believe any bio worth reading must share some revelations of the authors private life, especially those that connect to the books in tangible ways. So, here it goes.
WARNING. If you have not read the books, I'd advise you to proceed with caution as there are some very minor spoilers ahead. Personally, I despise spoilers of any kind. Proceed at your own best judgement.
The Settings for the Stories
Believing Magic, and many of my other books are set in or around Jacksonville, Florida, where I was born. When possible, I try to place in story events in locations where I have lived and visited personally.
While bearing a different name, the trailer park with a ramshackle guard gate situated off of Beach Boulevard in Beliving Magic exists. The ‘Hale House’ mansion by the river fits many of the grander properties lining the banks of the St. Johns. Although its name has been changed, the hospital that Sky escapes from is located off of the San Pablo road there in Jacksonville. The Vietnamese Restaurant named 'Pha King Noodles' exists, subsequently renamed in a recent relocation to P.K. Noodles.
The graveyard in North Carolina perched on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains overlooking the Tennessee Valley is also real and quite a sight to behold with its view. Yes, the overgrown and neglected place exists as described in my book, or it did when last I visited. My father, little sister, and other relatives lie there now, waiting for me to join them when I die. The place may have been reclaimed by nature by now as I've not been there in many years. If so, my ashes will do fine scattered between the other stones and graves.
How I got Started Writing…
2009 - I was working for a national corporate entity (in the print industry - God Rest its Soul) My daily grind was one of those soul sucking endeavors that made me consider the unthinkable. I was well insured - and oddly enough - this did not help my mental state as you might expect. If you throw a golden safety net under a man’s family, just in case he falls off the high wire of life, he might be a little less careful with his footing on a down day. Given a wild hair, he may even feel at liberty to bounce up and down on the damn thing. And why not? The unrelenting force of obligation, love and duty to family dulled by a dash of depression and a monthly $42 direct withdrawal to an insurer.
A creature of passion with no outlet is in a bad way.
And I was.
There came a day, like any other day, that I opened my computer to do some work. I brought up a blank page. then I sat there and stared at it like a good worker drone. Instead of starting a new spreadsheet or beginning a new customer list, I began to write. I wrote from morning till evening, the first thirty-three pages of Believing Magic coming to life that day. I had no experience to draw from other than being well read, what grace a BA could grant me, combined with a soul deep need to escape my day to day 'life'. I simply pulled the trigger and let the bullet follow its own course without any idea how incredibly far it would travel. The cliché makes me cringe to see in text that I've written, but the story wrote itself - with yours truly being the first to read it there on my screen.
And so, I found writing. Did it save my life? I don't know. But I do know that I would not trade what I gained for what I have given up as I wrote. That time I spent, those many hours and countless late nights - I do not want them back. They are exactly where I want them. I wrote the first five books from 2009 to 2011, then other books for another two years before moving to publish. The editors, designers, artists - Ugh - THE PROCESS! A few thousand dollars, gladly spent. It had to be done. The idea that my head and heart might be the only place where these stories and these people lived was a sickening thought. They deserved a bigger life. 'They', being my friends in Amen Hale (the Believing Magic Series) and those I've met and made inside other books that I've had the pleasure to write.
As for my current state of mind, I'm doing quite well - lol. Thanks for asking.
Today:
My home is half a mile from the ocean. Some days when the wind is right, and always before a tropical storm, I can smell the surf as I stand outside my front door. I have a good life. I'm still in sales, and I have a great job now and truly enjoy my work. At night and on weekends I continue to write, and enjoy time with my family. Book six, Devil's Tithe, is better than half done and should be available for pre order soon. I have two other books out now - Midori and Beyond The Edge - and six other books that are being edited/prepped for release. Cinderella, Cinderella I'm considering making into a graphic novel, so it may take some time - and money. Frank Dobbs - what a wild book! Action adventure/fantasy. I had someone in the business who saw an early version ask about making it into a movie. Flattering, but I'm jaded. Perhaps it's a side effect of my trade, but unless there is ink on a contract - there is no spoon.
In Closing:
I believe there is a certain mysterious beauty in how all the various parts of a life add up to make the whole of an individual. We each have our life experiences. Horrors and triumphs. Joys and challenges. Loves and losses. These moments accumulate over time and combine in an inexplicable chemical reaction within our soul making us into the people we are. My formation was uniquely 'my own', with whatever catalysts I added to the mix intentionally blending with the day to day incidental exposure of those passing by on their own journey, events of the world (shit happens), mixed with the intentional and sometimes malicious contamination of others. It all adds up. In the end. I am what I am. And you are what you are. But what wondrous process