Thursday, November 6, 2008

subject matter for the next book

I already have the "Mythology" down for my next book project, something I kicked around for quite some time and took extensive notes on. That's my obsessive-compulsion kicking.

But the mythology is just a road map and not the story. The story is the journey the characters take across that road map.

I will deal with what literally keeps my up at night.

I will tackle my insomnia.

I have not had a good night's sleep in what, two years? So my next protagonist will help me confront this little problem.

It won't be ABOUT insomnia but will play upon some of the internal causes that may lead to it. It's a far more complex story than it may appear on the surface.

Anywho, that is where I am at. I am done fiddling with Riding Ten Thunders. I will keep sending it out, but it is time to get the next project moving.

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Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away