Rick DeStefanis

Tag: Rick DeStefanis

  • September 2025

    Picture of Rick the Author in a blue colored shirt against a sky background

    For years I’ve done a very minimal amount of marketing and advertising for my books. That has changed, and you may have already noticed that I’ve begun advertising on Facebook. These ads will continue, and yes, you may even see your own words in them. I have used quotes taken from your reviews, and I want to express my sincerest appreciation and thanks to all who have written and posted your book reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Your words have given me the motivation to continue telling my stories. And with that said, I commit to you that I will never use AI to tell them. My work is MY work.

    My stories come from my own creativity, historical events, and the recollections of veteran friends. My goal is to show readers what the average soldier faced in Vietnam through a soldier’s eyes. Yes, I have blended those realities with somewhat fanciful stories to keep you reading, but they are no less real. I say this because I occasionally receive the response, “I only read non-fiction.” I completely understand and often reply that I too read mostly non-fiction, but with that said I also explain that non-fiction is only marginally better than an AAR (After Action Report) and seldom displays it through the eyes of the front-line soldier, nor does it delve into the psychological experiences of combat nor its aftermath. My work does that.

    Meanwhile, back at the ranch: my wife and I made a road trip up into west Tennessee last week. We drove through a number of small towns, including Alamo, Owl City, and Frog Jump (unincorporated the sign said), and the latter home to a 12-foot skeleton sitting on a toilet in someone’s front yard—really! There was more, but I haven’t been able to get past the scene in Frog Jump.

    “So,” you say. “What’s next?”

    My writing endeavors have run upon rocky shoals. I spent the last 12 months writing a novel that I will not in any manner take credit for and hopefully, you will not see. As you may know, I donate 10% of my book royalites to veteran charities. Co-authoring this book led me into a situation that was morally counter to that goal. I’ll leave it at that, but do not despair. Rawlins Saga Book #5 is in the works. It will focus on the years of 1886 and 1887 in the Montana Territory and the next Rawlins generation. Maybe by February 2026, it’ll be ready. We’ll see. More on that in the next blog post.

    Until then, here’s a link to my author page on Amazon where you can purchase a book: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Rick-DeStefanis/author/B00H2YO2SS .

    Send me your emails, comments, and reviews. I need your encouragement.

  • Kill a Cow–Save the Planet!

    I try to focus my posts on odds and ends, entertaining asides, stuff about writing, positive things, whatever, but seldom do I delve into politics. This will be a first for my Author’s blog right here at www.rickdestefanis.com. With this post, I’m stepping off into some deep stuff all the way up to my eyeballs. Normally, I avoid arguing with the irrational. Afterall, who’s the bigger fool—the fool or he who argues with a fool? My hand is up. Ooogh, ooogh, pick me, teacher!

    This is my Alamo! I am standing my ground! I will no longer remain silent. So, here it is, my rant on the elite experts (and I use that term with great sarcasm) who would have us eat bugs and such, so that we might stop climate change by eliminating herds of farting cattle—excuse me, I mean cattle emitting greenhouse gases.

    Let’s start with NYC Mayor Eric Adams who told New Yorkers they should eliminate meat and dairy products from their diets to save the planet. Now, we know Mayor Eric isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but like some powerful liberal leaders, you don’t have to be the sharpest tool if you’re the biggest hoe. Never mind. Strike that from the record. Mayor Eric ain’t no hoe. Besides, it’s tacky. Oh, but I digress. Back to the rant at hand.

    Some idiot Harvard professor basically said the same thing when he said our domestic cattle herds, dairy herds, and other such groups of four-legged grass-munchers are contributing significantly to greenhouse emissions, insinuating that they must be regulated. Yes, another governmental buracracy is in the works, the CFC–the cow farting commision. I can no longer remian silent, and therefore must challenge this Harvard half-wit with my argument.

    You see, I’m from the South, and I have three vices, blondes, bourbon, and fried chicken. The first two are discussions for another time. I’m going to focus on the fried chicken—the mountaintop of southern cuisine. Okay, maybe one of them. It’s sort of like the Tetons in the Rockies. You know–like Mount Barbeque, or Mount Ribeye, but fried chicken is like Grand Teton. But wait! Do chickens fart? Never mind. I’m being tacky again. Strike that from the record. But remember, mess with our fried chicken at your own risk.

    Let’s look at it from a more logical standpoint. What about hundreds of thousands of Wildebeests and such roaming the African Serengeti? Should we kill them all? What about the same numbers of caribou and reindeer roaming the Artic? Start killing those reindeer, and God help us if one of ’em is named Rudolph—just sayin’. And think about the elephant and water buffalo herds in Africa and India? If such expert logic is accepted, the disappearance of thousands of elk and bison that once roamed the eastern US should have resulted in an ice age of sorts—right? Just sayin’. I mean the argument is based on a Fauchi-like science that invites such counter-reasoning until I can’t help myself. Are we being greenhouse gas-lighted? Okay, I can carry my depravity only so far. Thank you for letting me vent.

  • Fried…A word of Reverence

    A Work of Art

    This latest newsletter from www.rickdestefanis.com comes to you with a subject that is of almost religious significance in the South. And before I go further, fair warning and a disclaimer: You may want to avert your eyes if you aren’t from the South, and shield your device’s screen from children and easily offended individiuals such as snowflakes. Yes, you’re about to read words of near obscene description. This article may include such offensive language as bacon, dipped in egg, or rolled in corn meal.

    Yes, we here in the South tend to put a number of things in that quasi–near religious catagory, including college football, NASCAR, deer hunting, and well maybe a few others, but one of them for sure is fried food. If you’re a vegan, or from California or one of those other third-world states, you may wish to go now, but we have many converts, perhaps even your next door neighbors, who have seen the light and realized it’s the one on the electonic thermometer telling them the grease has reached that perfect 350 degree temperature.

    Fried is a word spoken with reverence in hallowed kitchens from Wilmington to Waco and everywhere in between. Fried is a word that emotes culinary dreams of near orgasmic delight. We can begin with the simple and the obvious: fried chicken, French fries, fried eggs, but like Forrest Gump’s army buddy, Bubba, when he described the ways to fix shrimp, a near endless litany of other fried foods can be named: fried okra, fried green tomatoes, fried catfish, fried oysters, fried venison chops, fried pork chops, fried bacon, fried sausage, country fried steak, fried corn, fried egg-plant, fried….I think you get the idea. 

    The problem with frying is that it is as much art as it is science. Which is to say, don’t go buy your fried chicken just anywhere and expect it to be good. If it’s from any of the major fast food chains it’ll be greasy and tasteless. The best way to get top-notch fried food is to find you a good fry-cook and marry her. Anyway, I’ll leave you with a quote from one of the best fry-cooks I’ve ever known, my old pappy-in-law: “A good fry-cook can make a huntin’ boot taste good, but fast food restaurants have ruined the art.”  

    The latest from the writing world is that Valley of the Purple Hearts broke a thousand reviews on Amazon, and I finished the first draft of Ghost II–Specter of Betrayal. I am working steadily in hopes of getting it out by late Spring. There are a couple of knee replacements coming that may slow me up a bit, but soon as my pit crew at Campbell’s Clinic in Memphis get my new tires installed, I’ll be back in the race. I hope all my readers had a good Christmas, and I wish you all a happy and prosperous New Year. 

    Valley of the Purple Hearts (The Vietnam War Series)

    Part of: The Vietnam War Series (6 books)  | by Rick DeStefanis  | Jul 4, 2017
    4.6 out of 5 stars 1,001
    Award-Winning Novel Valley of The Purple Hearts