Donald S. Crowley was a CPA by day; a bean counter; a number cruncher and a certified bore. By night he was as stimulating as the hero in his latest read with all the social skills of a brick and to make matters worse he was in love with a door. Not just any door, number four was special. Her alluring smile had caught Donald’s eye when he was just a boy and she called him by name. Despite years of therapy and medications she still called to him. Now he would risk his life to see her again and to finally know what lay behind Door Number IIII.
It is hard to believe Door Number Four was published over six years ago. Wow! That means I am six years older and [probably] none the wiser.
Four years ago this month Door Number Four was published in audio. Another wow! I could have earned a Bachelors degree in that 48 months or sailed around the world a few times.
Oh well…
I can’t accurately account for the years that have passed but I can tell you when I think of Door Number Four (or IIII) I am still proud of this quirky, surreal, sci-fi love story. It still intrigues me. And secretly I would love to see it in film.
I was digging in my archives for another project when I happened upon this narration sample of Door Number Four narrated by Christopher Lane.
I confess I still giggle a little when I listen to it.
Don Crowley cursed the noisy autumn leaves beneath his feet. No matter how lightly he tread on the foliage it crackled and hissed, mocking his every step, his very existence.
Another truth, sometimes when I meander through the woods picking berries, soul-searching or conversing with the wild animals, I wonder what really became of Donald S. Crowley. And sometimes…
Sometimes I think I hear Tetra seductively calling to him. “Donald, come.”
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The Real Janna Hill 