Martian Manhunter is my name.

In case any of you are wondering, Jonathon Jones is not my real name but, rather, just a pen name.  For purposes of keeping both myself and my family safe, I felt a pen name was the best way to go. So, how did I come up with the name? Those of you who are comic book aficionados may appreciate this. Back in Detective Comics #225 from 1955 the green-skinned Martian Manhunter made his first appearance. However, in public he used a human form alias, a detective by the name of John Jones. I decided to alter the first name to a lengthier form and just decided to use an o for the spelling as opposed to an a. And voila, Jonathon Jones was born.

Ebooks now available in print format

Side note:  (And shameless self plug..but hey, a guy has to eat, right?)

In addition to all of my Ebooks available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Apple, I am slowly but surely making my books available in print format as well via Createspace.  So far these are the ones that are also available in print format for those who like the feel of actual books.

Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story:

https://www.createspace.com/4409277

Solan

https://www.createspace.com/4427789

What Men Really Want: An Online Dating Guide for Women (Geared more towards the 18-35 age range, but it does has helpful hints for all types located throughout the book)

https://www.createspace.com/4429190

Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story Celebrates its 4,000th sale

Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story, the incredible E-book based on my father's time at war, just received its 4,000th sale as of 5 a.m. this morning (Eastern Time).  Thank you again for your wonderfully kind support of this great story.    

Sincerely,
Jonathon Jones

Amazon Book Link

Solan , my new eBook , is now for sale!

I would like to formally announce that my new eBook entitled "Solan" has just been uploaded to both Amazon as well as Barnes and Noble. As long as no problems pop up, it will probably be available sometime today, probably by late afternoon.

Here's a little snippet.

Excerpt: “As we lie in bed together, grasping the straws of sanity, we discuss the hidden truth. It's the year 3014, approximately one thousand years since the incident. Wars are non-existent, and everywhere you look is a beautiful sight to behold. No apparent signs of pollution exist, an obvious courtesy, wink and nod to all creatures. As far as the eye can see, magically colorful fruit orchards bloom their fragrant gifts for all to share.”

Quick summary: Combining a futuristic utopia of wonder and intrigue, this mysterious story, filled with elements of love, friends, wonderment, humor, control, and heartache, is sure to both amaze and delight a wide variety of readers.

Anyway, I decided to begin the book in a rather descriptive way in order to set up the environment, and then as the book progresses, especially near the end, have the action increase. Although it is written in a rather old-school writing style which a lot of people may not be accustomed to, I felt doing so gave it the detailed presence that it needed in order to set the stage.

Although of shorter length, at $3.99 it is still 1/2 the price of a movie and will take you longer to read it, perhaps 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours.

If people buy it and like it, I did set it up for sequels. So, I guess we'll see how it all pans out.

Thanks to all of you for your support.

Sincerely,
Jonathon Jones

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DQREY3I

Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/solan-jonathon-jones/1115906701?ean=2940016425702

Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story Sales

Since December 17, 2012 Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story has sold 3,717 copies as of 6/21/2013 at 3:15 p.m.

This is beyond my father's expectations as the author, and my expectations as the editor and publisher.  We would like to give out a much-deserved thanks for those who have read his story, and a welcome to those who are considering it.

As for my own writings, I am currently in the midst of editing a story of my own, which should be released sometime between a few weeks and Christmas.  Unfortunately, I'm at the point where I don't know if I want to leave it novella length, or attempt to turn it into a full-length novel.  That's why the time gap is so huge.  :)

http://www.amazon.com/Jonathon-Jones/e/B006PE7K8U/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

The future of my writing.

I want to thank my family, friends, and all of my readers overall for their support. When I first decided to start writing, I wasn't really sure if I had the oomph or the ingenuity to make it happen. Although I realize my writing skills are still in their infancy, I know that as time goes on I will only continue to improve.

My time with reference books is now over, and I have decided to take a journey down another path. It is time I completed the assortment of novels that I have had lined up in my head for what seems like an eternity.

However, my books on some of my many loves, such as antiques and vintage toys, will always be available to new readers so that they can share in the wondrous joy that is the past.

Overall, since I started writing, I have sold a total of 5,000 Ebooks, but most of my sales have come from the collaboration attempt between my father and I on his life story that took place in Vietnam. Therefore, it is about time I wrote my own stories so that I can share them as well.

I seriously could not have done any of what I have done thus far without the kind words and motivation from everyone around me. My primary goal has been, and always will be, to have at least one story, passage, memory, or even a simple idea in any of my books, past or future, that will touch the minds of those who read them.

In addition, having no children makes it even more important for me to continue this endeavor, because this is the only real way that my memories will somehow continue to live on. It's funny, but in a way my readers have become my children. I make them smile and laugh, occasionally amazed, nostalgic, and for some even help them form an invisible light bulb over their heads when they seem to need it the most.

My readers are my future, in more ways than one. So I thank every last one of you who have read my work and will continue to do so in the future.

Peace.

Jonathon Jones

In Search of that Perfect Day...

I’m looking for that perfect day. Most of you have probably experienced it at least one time in your life. When you meet someone for the first time and their words soothe you like a newborn baby in its mother’s arms. They are the sword of life that defeats loneliness. In but a mere heartbeat they remind you that you’re not the only one who likes what you like, or thinks how you think.

Your minds shake their invisible hands in agreement, your eyes constantly remain together in a sweet embrace, and the world finally seems right again. No more waiting. No more searching. Being with them is how you breathe. You feel alive once again, far from the endless sea of solitude.

It’s not a dream because I’ve tasted it. But something so great can never last if the unending selfishness of others keeps pushing this potential eternity from my grasp. So my hands remain open, with my arms forever outstretched. I yearn for that sweet, perfect day that will finally turn into a lifetime.

Land ownership, Government, War, and Money---Man's way of destroying how we were meant to live?

Land ownership, Government, War, and Money---Man's way of destroying how we were meant to live?

I always found the concept of fighting for a government or a piece of land ridiculous. If an animal can't defend its territory, isn't able to find food in a particular area, or what have you, what does it do? Move. Yet, due to the way us humans have things set up, it's very difficult to do.

I think a lot of how our way of thinking as humans came about is due to the concept of land ownership. Although it's nice to feel somewhat safe knowing we have a place to go, on the other hand....is that really how nature intended?

Think about it....in nature, we'd probably be migratory. First off, for those who were in the north, as soon as a hint of cold came, where would we start walking? South. Why? A: No food grows in snow, B: We don't have thick hides and fur to protect us from the bitter cold. Fire, in my opinion, was probably just invented by lazy humans who didn't want to walk anymore, as was hunting for animals. So they could stay put. :P

Anyway, even if we wanted to live a migratory lifestyle like we were probably meant to live, the way us humans have things set up NOW, we have this thing called land ownership which means, as we were traveling, we can no longer just reach for a piece of fruit off of a tree (Which are also in short supply because people feel more intent on building mini malls and golf courses instead) to eat as we're traveling (Or even staying put) and can no longer dig up a vegetable off of land, and so on and so forth. Why? Because now people OWN the land that our natural resources grow from and we're not allowed to pick from it, and due to building stupid stuff those natural resources are now in short supply as well. Animals don't have to adbide by those rules when looking for their basic requirements, but we do, and it pretty much sucks.

Now then, due to this, and the concept of money and exchanging things that way overall (As opposed to bartering for stuff), we have formed a government and are now born into a border-encased government that makes sure we stay put, makes sure we can't get food in a natural, migratory way (Also important to give us a varied diet), and overall can't do anything naturally, as nature intended. Why? Because people want to maintain control of a planet that, quite frankly, they should have no right to say they control any of.

Anyway, it's just all really interesting to think about. How absolutely unnatural we're doing things in modernity.

2,000th sale!

Beneath the Bamboo: A Vietnam War Story, just sold its 2,000th eBook last night, in a little under two months.  My father and I thank you!

Rest in Peace, Grandpa

I thought it would be a good idea to get all of this out while my memory was still fresh.  As many of you are aware, I do have a tendency to whine and complain and get overly emotional when things don’t go my way.  It’s basically how I deal with the everyday hardships that I come across throughout the course of my life.  Yet, unbeknownst to those who don’t know me very well, as emotional and as in touch with the softer side of things as I may seem when I do express myself, I actually have a rather tough external shell.  When I’m not being way too human, I’m being almost Vulcan-like.  I have a duality about me that can switch from emotional/lovey dovey to cold/stern and analytical, which I often feel I need to do in order to sometimes separate myself from whatever situation it is that I come across that I can’t relate to or understand.

Why this often happens is beyond me.  Whether it’s due to being repeatedly hurt or disappointed in women, or having to face so many other life hiccups is truly beyond my comprehension.  All I know is that I have the distinct ability to turn myself on and off like a light switch when I feel I need to in order to protect myself.  No, it doesn’t always work and sometimes people can break me down, but not very often.  Especially when it concerns death.  Until now.  Prior to this point in my life I handled death rather easily.  Usually when I was close to someone, it was a delayed emotional response, and I wouldn’t cry for months down the road and, even then, only briefly.  But, like with everything in life, things can easily change. 

The story starts off simply enough.  I mean, I knew that my Grandpa was sick and that his passing was probably good in a way due to the fact that he was suffering.  That’s what the analytical part of my brain told me which, for the most part, can easily kick the butt of my emotional side.  So I felt prepared as my mom and I drove up to Illinois in order to meet up with my Dad, who was already there.  As we entered Georgia, I thought the trip would only be filled with a series of non-stop anecdotes that would keep my mind off of the inevitable.  Like, as an example, the fact that the entire southern part of Georgia had a sign advertising either a strip club or adult entertainment store every mile or so.  I never got that, really.  I mean…I don’t know about you, but I personally never drove 70 mph down the Interstate and thought, “You know, I could go for some good old fashion porn or a lap dance right about now.”  All I’m concerned about when I’m on the interstate is whether or not the whack-a-dos driving next to me are going to allow me to make it home or not.

Or, there’s the fact that Georgia police department apparently has way too much time on its hands, since I saw a cop every two miles or so, usually having pulled someone over already.  Which is a far cry from Florida, mind you, where they seem to not even blink unless you’re going 100.  Of course, then there’s the activity within the car itself.  Like the fact that the scenery going by is like visual candy to my cat who, surprisingly enough, makes a rather good car companion since she doesn’t complain unless she’s been in the car for more than 12 hours, after which she started squawling like a parrot with ADD.    Then there’s my mom, who has the appetite of a fat person who had just binged for a week, even though she’s super skinny.  I swear, she stops to get something to eat more times than a five year old has to go to the bathroom. 

The rest of the trip was okay I suppose.  The nearer we were to Illinois, the darker, colder, and more dreary it seemed.  All of the green I have been accustomed to seeing on the side of the road had disappeared and, in its place were lifeless trees looking like the bad ones from the Wizard of Oz.  With that, of course, were accompanying winds that made me remember quite often why I moved down to Florida to begin with.  Can we say Brr, boys and girls?  I thought we could.

Anyway, as we reached our destination, I was reunited with my Dad and, of course, my step-grandma (I have always called her Grandma since she is in my eyes, but for the purpose of clarification as to who she is, I thought it’d be best to stick with specific titles).  She was, as expected, not doing the greatest.  She wasn’t just married to my grandpa for umpteen years, but he was also her best friend.  We spent a good portion of the trip consoling her and talking about good times and trying to get her to see that he is now at peace, but it soon became quite obvious that a LOT of time is going to pass until she is finally ready to move on.

For me personally, the visitation is what hit me the hardest.  Before other visitors arrived, it was family time.  I thought I had a handle on this.  I was, after all, a brick wall, right?  Wrong.  When I stepped up to his casket, as soon as I looked at him I was sadder than I think I’ve ever been in my entire life.  The water works started instantly, and I felt a tremendous loss.  It’s one thing to THINK about someone passing and missing them, but when you SEE them, then it becomes a lot more final in your mind.  A lot more.

I tried like gangbusters to remember all of the good times…his funny little songs he would sing, the fact that he was almost never seen without a hat and a toothpick in his mouth, times when we were little playing catch in the back yard, or making tents out of sheets and pillows, and all of the myriad number of times we were always laughing and having a good time.  But I just couldn’t think of those things.  All I saw was a shell of a small man, emaciated by the ravages of cancer, who was in his final resting place.  I stood there above him, holding on to his sleeve, knowing fully well that I was never going to see his smiling face, or his sparkling blue eyes where I got my very own.  His eyes, that were always filled with joy and love, would never be open again. 

I will always remember how much he truly loved life, and how he enjoyed every last breath of it even when he was in pain.  His laughter, his joy, his giving spirit and his easy-going demeanor are all some of the many things I will always miss.  I love you Grandpa.  I will always remember how much you made my life better and everyone else who knew you.  Always.

As the visitation progressed, and the tears stopped, an outpouring of people came in, so I had to be strong once again.  Although, at 87, many of my grandfather’s friends had already passed on, those who were left showed up to show their respects, and those who wanted to support my dad’s time of grief showed up as well.  My dad’s story is an interesting one in the fact that it wasn’t until my brother and I were born that my grandfather, who was my dad’s biological father, re-entered his life after being gone for so many years.  I could see by the pain in my father’s eyes, which accompanied my own, that we were all better people because he decided to all take a chance on us after being gone for so long.  Prior to that, my dad’s only father figure was his step-dad, so when my grandpa entered our lives, my dad  was blessed with having two fathers, when most people only have one.

The visitation, overall, was exactly what my grandpa would have wanted.  Talking, laughter, and people reunited.  My Grandpa was always taking to anyone and everyone, and could even make a new friend in one minute standing in line at a grocery store.  He was THAT likeable, and my step-grandma said that absolutely everyone who ever met him liked him.  I always knew why.  He was always a very gentle soul, and more friendly than anyone I have ever met, outside of one person, my dear friend Kelley who, by the way, showed up at the visitation.  It was good to see her again.  It was equally good to see the appearance of my Uncle Steve, who shocked my mom so much by his presence that she started to tear up. 

The next day, at the funeral, I cried yet again, and it was so hard looking at my Grandpa one last time before the casket was finally closed.  But his final resting place was exactly what he would have wanted.  Always being immersed in cars his whole life, and having an affection for Cadillacs, that’s exactly the kind of coffin he got.  One that took him out in style.  Costing 16,000 dollars, it was a work of art, with copper handles and trim and a beautifully burnished top, he deserved it, so my Grandma spared absolutely no expense.

My brother had written a really great passage on the funeral home’s visitor’s web site, and it was read at the end of the ceremony, which also made me remember even MORE of the good times, including those I had pushed clear back in the recesses of my mind.  With Brian being a little older, his memories were obviously a little clearer, so I am eternally grateful he spoke those words.

Finally, standing at the external crypt, we heard the final words of the preacher, as I unfortunately shook like a leaf on a tree due to my inability to adapt to the bitter cold winds of the Illinois winter day.  As the day moved on, closure was finally making its presence known.  What helped more than anything was when we all looked through past photo albums, which helped to further reinforce the fact that my Grandpa truly had a full and happy life.

Overall, I learned a great many things by going through this.  First, I saw, in my Grandma’s eyes, a reflection of what true love really looks like.  I really think I needed that reminder.   Her sorrow, having lost both a mate and a best friend, is something that I know will always be a final result of true happiness.  Yet, without having experienced all that she did with such a wonderful man, her life would have always been incomplete, so the tradeoff was always worth the risk.  I don’t envy my Grandma’s current pain, but I envy the fact that she was able to find her mate for life and be blessed to have so much time with him before he was gone.  He shined a light on her, and she did the same for him.  It’s funny in the fact that my Grandpa went from a gambling drunk to meeting her for just ONE blind date, and then he stopped his sorry ways and turned his life around because of how much he loved her.  I guess sometimes all it takes is meeting the person who was actually meant for us to truly show us the light that we so desperately need to see. 

Secondly, I also learned that I’m not as strong as I once thought I was.  I have fully realized my humanity, and know that I break just as easily as everyone else.  Last, and most surprisingly, I now am starting to somewhat doubt my own beliefs.  Having forever been agnostic, it has always been very difficult for me to believe in any resemblance of an afterlife.  Yet, as my Grandfather was passing, my Grandma said that he just kept repeating, “Wow.  Wow.  Wow.  Bells.  Beautiful.” right before he passed on.

Maybe there IS something out there.  If so, I’m almost positive that my Grandpa is now there, being comforted by those who went before him.  So….this trip has been a real eye-opening experience for me.  More than anything it makes me know, deep in my heart, that those we truly do cherish will always be a  part of who we are.  We must never forget those who have touched our lives in such positive ways.

I will forever miss you, Grandpa.

Love forever,

JJ