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John Bebout
John W. Bebout is a poet who has been published in such literary magazines as 'The Esthetic Apostle,' 'The Paragon Press' and 'Horseshoes & Hand Grenades,' among others. 'The Cause of Darkness' is his first novel and, always a poet, he has started each chapter of the book with original prose or quotes, which give the book a lyrical quality rarely found in historical fiction. In a former life, Bebout was a scientist who authored/coauthored more than two-dozen juried, technical articles. Bebout has lived in Virginia for more than 30 years. It is, he says, "A place where romance and adventure are as pervasive as honeysuckle growing on a fence line." 'The Cause of Darkness' has been awarded a Readers' Favorite 5-Star award and received the following Kirkus Review: "Bebout deftly explores the complexities not only of war, but of family and neighbor relationships as well [...] The author has created a strong protagonist who effectively evolves from naïve teen into a determined, resourceful man [...] An engrossing and intricate war tale with a rousing young hero [...] The ending should pique readers' curiosity as to what comes next in Teddy's intriguing story." --Kirkus Reviews

Books

The Cause of Darkness-- A Story of the Civil War

Poems

Once Hallowed Ground

Quotes

"A soldier’s perception of a battle is limited by what he can see and hear.  He may see his comrades standing next to him or, if the smoke is not too thick, the enemy across the field.  He may hear the angry buzz of the Minié balls and the roar of the cannon.  But for him, there is no grand, overarching plan where soldiers move like pieces on a chessboard.  For him the fight is intensely personal, often reduced to two men:  himself and the enemy soldier trying to kill him." -- The Cause of Darkness


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Latest Poem

Don't I feel like a loser when I learn you're through with me.
It was news to everyone, especially to me.
Don't I feel pathetic, like there's something wrong with me.
She is far more beautiful than I could ever be.
I stand here null and solemn, though it must be written on my face,
that I've found before the world what you couldn't say to my face.
You blow right on by me with your new love, hand in hand.
So smug, haughty, and thoughtless.  You are not much of a man.
Filled with anger, through and through, I feel like I could drown.
I lift my glass and drink fast to chase the feeling down.
I close my eyes.  I still see your face.  Somehow I should have known.
You kill me inside with a passing glance, and now my heart grows cold.
So much time spent in a one sided love was wasted all on you.
Don't I feel like a loser for ever caring about you.

By Anne Rasico (Joyce)

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