Thursday, December 10, 2009

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!

As of today I have reached out to all the agents I met at the SFWA reception just prior to Thanksgiving. Just like any other form of networking and opportunity seeking, there are no guarantees.

It's not that easy to promote yourself, especially when your day job is to cut through the fluff!

I was reluctant to pitch Riding Ten Thunders since I want put time in editing it after I get Heritage Fields wrapped.

But I should not sit on a finished manuscript. That's just silly.

So here is my latest pitch:

"Riding Ten Thunders" is the first installment of a potential African-themed fantasy series about a war fought by boys over the remains of a fallen empire. Jagantha threatens the life of a kinsman in order to protect his brother when a feud erupts anew over a cache of ivory. His actions stir jealous spirits and gods eager to be worshipped again though some want to break the war cycle.

The story shares some similarities with “Pan’s Labyrinth” and “Lord of the Flies”.

So yeah... that's the pitch I sent today.

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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