O-Dark-Thirty

I just published my first full-length novel. If you read my blog regularly, you know about it. Writing the description - making people want to buy the book? Sales? Marketing? Those are hard for me to do. My original description followed the normal formula - and it even bored me! From now on, if you ask me what my book is about, this is my answer: It's about a mad doctor trying to take over a post-apocalyptic world and the good people who try to stop him. What else should a great book be about? I did write what I consider to be a much better sales description, which I just posted tonight. Forget the patter telling you about the plot. Here's what you need to know: zombies, apocalypse, vampires, Las Vegas, werewolves and a mad doctor. The plot revolves around people: August Moon, who isn't what he seems - or maybe he is. His brother Lone Wolf. Claire, the statuesque Egyptian goddess. Jed and Maddie, the best love story since Princess Bride (well, no, not rea...

The characters in the rough draft of my new novel are smiling, nodding fools. Don't get me wrong - I love them all! We've spent more than the last year together and I know all their secrets - well, most of them. I finished the rough draft ten days ago, except for the final three chapters. I took up the (daunting) task of editing. My editing process differs from most, I think. I do a read-through in my head, looking for continuity problems and fixing passive voice when I notice it. Then I read it aloud to Darling, who seems to have unlimited patience. I fix more passive voice. I correct things that don't flow when I read them out loud. Darling is the one who noticed my characters were smiling and nodding all the time. The truth of that slapped me wonky. My worst error was a preponderance of the word "nodded." Everyone in the story nodded, assuring me my reader would nod off. The worthless nods had to go. In most cases I deleted the word with minor mod...

Doc Savage is similar to one of my characters Since last July I've been writing my first full-length fiction novel. That might seem like a long time, but I have this rule that if I'm bored with what I'm writing - then I'll bore the reader. So I stop for weeks and months while my mind cogitates the plot and characters. (In the meantime I wrote and published a few short stories, and they are on Amazon and Smashwords .) So last July I actually put the rough draft of the first few chapters in my blog - you can find it here , but it doesn't look quite the same any longer. I also gave it a working title: Zombie Apocalypse: Vampire Raiders of Las Vegas , which still makes me chuckle a bit. I'm at over 82,000 words and the first draft is finished. I have an excellent editor who suggested I change the beginning of the novel, so that's what I'm working on. For your reading pleasure, here's the new Chapter One. Oh, and I changed the title. The novel...

I don't have a title for this short, short story. If you have any ideas, just leave me a comment. 0~0 Heal her and give me the pain. That was the deal I made with the angel in the hospital. Relative quiet finally arrived and there were no sounds I didn't recognize. The annoying machine that monitored my wife's health kept beeping when her blood pressure dropped too low. I was tempted to unplug the thing, but that would probably break another rule. I'm not averse to breaking a few rules, but the noise didn't bother her; she slept right through it. Finally I corralled a kindly nurse who did something to the setting and the machine quit squawking. Maybe she was tired of it, too. Now I sat in the semi-dark room with only that fluorescent light behind her bed shining toward the ceiling. Indirect lighting seems so much softer after all the spotlights in the ceiling are turned off. The nurses let me stay in the room and sleep on the pseudo-leather chair...

I published another short story on Smashwords and Amazon today. Called Seductive Murder: A Short Story , it is ten years - to the day - since I wrote the first draft.  I was going to publish it under a pseudonym ... It isn't my normal genre, though it is the possible beginning of a novel - I have the rudimentary plot in my head for it (and have had that plot for ten years, obviously) but I don't know if it is substantial enough to expound upon. Here's the pitch: A business trip cut short in an intimate moment. Heart attack? Well, yes, but...   This is a short story, intended for mature audiences. Others need not apply. Go grab a copy and review it. Let me know what you think.

Years ago the poem Jabberwocky by that nutty Lewis Carroll grabbed my attention and held it long enough for me to write a sequel, where the boy who slew the Jabberwock managed to defeat the Jubjub bird. I posted that Jubjub bird addition to my blog in June of 2011, where it received scant (or no) attention. As the years pass me by I now think it time to finish my personal salutation to the impeccably bizarre Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (who also suffered from migraines). I actually put some thought into the new parts, so the Jubjub bird stanzas differ from my draft version. The Bandersnatch portion is entirely new. Unlike my previous attempt, I strove to maintain the same syllabic count used in the original Jabberwocky. That took some doing. I actually had to use a spreadsheet to see the stanzas side by side. (Yes, for you Word people, I could have used columns, but then I'd not have room for syllabic count also!) Yeah, I love spreadsheets I shall endeavor to ...

You might be wondering where I have disappeared to. Aside from not having much to say (and my kids just roll their eyes at that statement), I am currently working on one of my novels. I won't tell you much about it, though if you're a regular reader, you've seen the first draft of the first chapter. It is much different now, but the working title remains as  Zombie Apocalypse: Vampire Raiders of Las Vegas.  Yes,  everyone  rolls their eyes at that, but it will be a good story - or at least a fun one. It is still a few months away from being published. (Hey, I have a day job, too.) However, I decided that I needed to publish some of my short stories (which are mostly short, short stories). I dropped the first one out on Smashwords tonight. Long time readers might recognize it, too. Why Smashwords and not Amazon? Well, Amazon doesn't really let me put my stories out there for free, and I don't feel right about charging for my short stories. I also hear Amazon...

I am a Futurist. Seriously. I have the degree and everything. Currently the program is operated at the University of Houston and they now call it Strategic Foresight. I belong to both the Association of Professional Futurists (APF) and the The World Future Society . Back in May the WFS solicited submissions for the next issue of their magazine. They wanted a three-hundred word essay on what might disappear by the year 2030. I scribbled off a short fiction piece and sent it in. Not surprisingly I just received a very nice rejection letter (always know your market - they rarely do fiction) . Undaunted I turn now to my own personal audience, my blog readers! (I love you both!) Here's my short short-story, clocking in at 319 words. Enjoy! The Doorway The air smells of ozone as I walk along the streets, small rivulets of water flowing next to the curb, carrying bits of debris from the passing thunderstorm. Glass storefronts reflect distorted images of the neon signs i...

The musical notes of his cell phone pierced his sleep. Frank sleepily picked up the phone next to his bed, expecting another call from work. "Mr. Jackson?"  The voice was quiet, yet sultry. Frank thought it probably belonged to a slim, athletic brunette. He smiled at the image in his mind. "Yes, this is he. How did you get this number? It’s unlisted." He tried not to sound sleepy, pitching his voice a little lower than normal. "Actually, I knew it was you, sir. This is the Psychic Hotline calling." Frank gritted his teeth and almost ended the call, but being awakened by a crank call, regardless of the voice, was just too much. "Listen..." he growled into the phone. "Please, Mr. Jackson, don’t be angry. This is not a crank call." The voice sighed quietly. "Haven’t you always laughed at the commercials for the Psychic Hotline and said ‘If they were really psychic they would call me ?’" Frank bit back a retort, r...