Saturday, July 16, 2011

A big day

I will pay my respects to my father today. It's his birthday. Going to the cemetery with some family.

Later this evening is my high school reunion. Twenty years. I expect the day to be filled with history and reflection but perhaps fresh memories will be born as well.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Book Project X

Got 1,000+ words done so far today. That's like four pages. Once I get to know these characters better the pace will pick up. I'd like to have a clear sense of this book by the end of August. I want to pitch it at the September conference but it must be in solid shape.

I could pitch Riding Ten Thunders; it fits in the YA category but from a different perspective than the usual Hunger Games clones on the market. Ten Thunders needs some deep rewrites and I do not want to slow down on the new project. I will give myself two weeks to decide.

I am pretty jazzed about this new project; it's high concept enough to make money for publishers and it still satisfies my need for thought-provoking literature. Just because I am writing to a genre does not mean I must eschew logic and reason. There is room for upmarket books. Look at the Song of Ice and Fire series (the source of the Game of Thrones HBO series). That is primarily character driven with the genre elements there for spice.

Because the new book idea is sooo new I won't share more details on this public blog at the moment. However, those of you who are in my Facebook posse will get more info.

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