We all want it [die hard support], someone who has our back no matter what happens.
In A Cry Among Men – The Novel and my completed screenplay by the same name, I take on the subject of racism in this country. Yes, that dreadful subject most people ignore or believe is dead. But writing about racism was not a conscious choice. The story and its themes were spawned out of a dream that I had over 25 years ago while going through a turbulent time in corporate sales at a Fortune 500 company. I have asked God to use me and my writing for His glory. Therefore, I pray I do His urging justice in writing this story.
I have been working on A Cry Among Men for over a year and my goal is to finish, get it through the editorial process and to a publisher by mid 2015. As you decode the book’s subtext, I hope you see as I have, ‘For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.’ Ephesians 6:12 NLT
My main character, Don Wilcox, is a high powered 37 year old Wall Street investment banker. He is black, a devoted man of God, husband, father and loyal friend. After becoming the victim of a heinous hate crime, Don becomes conflicted about race [white men], something every black man who is honest with himself has faced. His stable, happily married suburban life and business world suddenly turn into a monstrous rolling snowball of anger, resentment, fear, pain, distrust and questionable moral judgment.
I won’t give away the story’s inciting incident or plot (What fun would that be?), but I promise, you won’t see the ending coming; it will absolutely blow your mind. Readers of the script have called it ‘haunting’ and have said this country’s climate is too sensitive and movie goers will not be able to handle the racial controversy. On the contrary, I say.
Here is a taste of Don Wilcox from: A Cry Among Men – The Novel
Don Wilcox, the jet’s solo passenger, appeared. He subtly paused at the open forward door. Today was his thirty-seventh birthday. He was a shrewd hunk of a black man, lean, six feet, one inches tall and weighed two hundred and seven pounds. As a star college football corner back, he had a blazing 4.4 closing speed and loved to hit. But one day during a game against The Citadel, he slammed a wide receiver on a crossing route then hit his right knee on a teammate’s helmet and tore his ACL. At the time, he was slated to go early in the first round of the NFL draft but the injury demolished his chances. Taylor, Knoche and Granville’s descriptive color name chart would consider his complexion #43 cocoa brown. At first glance, his face came forth as delicate, but his pronounced cheek and jaw bones contradicted any further thought of that and gave him an impenetrable look. His hair was a rich thick black blend of curls and waves cut in a slightly close temp taper. Not one strand was out of place. A custom tailored two button grey pin-stripped suit fell perfectly on his herculean frame. Nicely laid underneath was an off lavender densely-woven Egyptian cotton shirt with pressed French cuffs closed by lion’s head cuff links made of platinum and shimmering diamond eyes. The imported silk necktie he wore was deep lavender with a penetrating oval stitch pattern that changed to pale pink when light struck it a particular way. And his shoes, oh my goodness, Sutor Mantellassi black leather with double monk straps.
Can you visualize him? Come back next week and find out a little about Alicia, his wife.
No matter what is taking place in your life, you have die hard support. His name is Jesus.