On October 16, 2020—while showing pictures of the local fall scenery on this page—Facebook (FB) suspended my advertising account for “unusual activity.” I only discovered this suspension (which becomes permanent November 19th) when I attempted to run another ad the following week.
I’ve no idea what constitutes unusual activity. (I doubt FB suspected hacking as they charged my account for ads run before the suspension.) I don’t post or even share anything political and have kept this page “PG-13.” Thus, I’ve no clue as to why the suspension occurred.
In FB’s defense, I could have appealed the suspension. But I asked myself, “Appeal what . . . exactly?” This suspension seemed so arbitrary—without the courtesy of notification nor explanation—what would prevent this cycle from beginning anew?
I chase hounds—not my own tail.
Unable to grow my audience/readership in this venue, sometime on November 20, 2020, I will deactivate this page and my personal FB account—leaving FB (and Messenger and Instagram) indefinitely.
I especially thank my readers who have followed this page so loyally, and a huge shout out to those who took the time to write book reviews. Your personal stories of how you related to the Ryland Creek novels made it all worthwhile. You are the reason “writers write.”
Yes, I’ll continue to write. You can stay in touch via my author bimonthly e-mail newsletter, which will have the same content as this page, or check my website’s blog from time to time. Here you can sign up for The Ryland Creek Newsletter (free).
The good news—being off social media—I’ll have more time to write and spend even more time in the woods with our hounds.
You never know what good there is in bad, as a professor of mine used to opine.
There is a new, enthusiastic generation of men and women who would chase behind a hound. I wish them well in learning about the forests, their dogs, and to a large degree—themselves.
As for me and mine: Dad’s health precludes him from chasing his hounds now. (I give a detailed report of each hunt over a cup of coffee when I return at night, so Dad can live vicariously the life he knew so well.)
Our severely autistic son can never join me in the woods. (You play the cards life deals you.) My daughter and nephews have shown little-to-no interest in following hounds. That’s their decision—no harm, no foul. The Ryland Creek saga has always been about finding and following your own path. I don’t begrudge their decisions. I go it alone.
As for me, I’m holding up pretty good all things considered. I’ll return to the woods as long as the Good Lord deems it possible.
But as for the family Crance, I am the last—the last coon hunter.
I remain faithfully yours,
Joseph Gary Crance