Learning Experience

I thought I'd share with everyone the things I've learned within the last 2 years concerning writing and publishing.

1. Learn to take criticism because in the end it will only improve your writing because no writing is perfect.
2. Learn to edit your own work. For me, editing was my nemesis, but I've learned to edit by a cheat-sheet of common mistakes I make.
3. Grammar rules can be broken but only if it makes the text flow more smoothly. The last thing you want is for someone to have to re-read a line or paragraph for lack of understanding the first time.
4. Word count doesn't matter. My first editing job trimmed 10,000 words from my first book and its better for it.
5. Live your characters. Each one should be individually identifiable within your mind and should have their own personality trait.
6. Self-publishing is easy. Seriously. If you doubt me, then ask me and I'll walk you through it. Advertising, getting readership, is the hard part.

Also, here is the new back cover for Azazel. Thoughts?:

Azazel: With Jeremiah near death in a hospital hundreds of miles away and Limbus under attack, Azazel looks to be on the verge of Armageddon, but Azazel has more enemies than friends. Yet, despite his immortality, he can still be beaten and it’s up to Limbus to figure out how. But with the pressure of the world weighing on his shoulders, Limbus realizes he can’t protect everyone he’s placed in danger and flees into the hands of Opus Wright. So in a last ditch effort to save his family, Jeremiah puts his trust in the one entity who hates him above all else; the demon Hades. Is his faith justified or has he just doomed the world for eternity?

You Above All Else

There is time I've spent in Paris. I have seen the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. I have seen the Mona Lisa and been in awe of every detail. I have seen the flying buttresses of Notre Dame and wondered at the inventions of man. There is time I've spent in Rome. I have seen the ruins of an ancient empire. I've seen the Vatican and all that’s within. I've even had mass with the Pope.

I've spent time on the sandy beach of Sicily and let the waves crash against my soul. I've seen lightning storms off the Sahara that strike fear into the hearts of demons. I've even been to Jerusalem and walked the path of Jesus. I've felt the masses of emotions overcome me why standing beneath his resting place because nobody stands above the Son of God. And I have shed tears at his sacrifice.

I've been a hundred other place and done a thousand other things, experiencing the best any man can enjoy. And I've imagined great things, things unbelievable, thing incomprehensible to anyone but myself. But what I fail to understand is how all of them pale in comparison to spending a single moment with you.

I wrote this piece a long while ago, but after finding it in my romance novel I thought I'd share it with you ahead of publishing. I hope you enjoyed it.

Relegated

So I'm reading through my romance novel and rediscovering a bit about myself when I came across this very short paragraph. I think it describes what we all should want along with what our problem could be. At least, I know it is in my case.

He wants to smile at just the thought of his ideal woman. He wants to enjoy sharing those surreal silences with someone who understands what they mean to him. He wants to share the joys and tears of a person as if they’re connected on a higher level. He wants undying passion. And of course, he knows he’s asking too much.

I think I might of posted this tidbit of writing before, but when I checked I didn't find it. Anyway, I recently updated it and thought I'd put it here.

Relegated: Relegated to a secondary thought, that is my status. Or rather it is how I think you view me because I’m longer the focus of your attention. In fact, to me it’s as if I’m the last thing on your mind. Meanwhile, I impatiently wait for some indication that you even care about me, but as the minutes tick into hours then days, I know my place within your world. It bothers me, not because it affects my life, though it does, but rather because it’s just plain rude. I’d never shove someone off to the side in such a manner and I find being treated in this way pushes me past the point of caring about how you’ll react to my disappearance. What really angers me, however, is that I hate myself for being drawn into such a situation, but that’s a problem I've dealt with for a long time. What’s nice is that this time I’m actually doing something about it. It doesn't feel good, far from it, but it settles the twists in my heart. I guess being decisive at times does limit the pain and gives a person a sense of worth. For a person of low self-esteem, it’s about adding a bit of pride among the sorrow. I must admit it’s not much, but it’s something. And of course it’s all I've got out of this turmoil. I wish it were different. I wish I could regain your sight, but I know I’d just vanish from it once again. Sadly, the truth is… you don’t care enough about me for me to be part of your life. Because of that, neither can I care about you…at least not anymore.

Compassion

For those few who are interested in reading about the romance novel I've written, I'll give you a quick synopsis. The story is written from a guy's perspective, though its not the smut filled, pornographic book most would suspect. Rather, its about a guy writing a romance novel (thus the title) as he tries to find love himself. For him, this is not an easy task because he has self-esteem issues. And though the main character is not me, I've modeled the man after my experiences and the years of guy's things I've encountered. Also, intermixed within the story are tidbits of things I've written throughout the years which express the main characters views on the world, and thus a view into his personality. In the end, I think the book, as a whole, is cleverly done. Moreover, because it is so personal to me, I would not think of publishing it unless I've made the same changes in my life that he goes through (mostly).

Anyway, at the end of a book is a tidbit I wrote which is very heartfelt to me. Its a fantasy piece and doesn't reflect me, other than to demonstrate the depth of compassion a person endures. Here is a tiny bit of it which I've just re-written because it didn't read right. Enjoy...if you can:

My father, who out of spite named me Richard Dickless Johnson, thought he was being clever, my name representing the pinnacle of humor and depravity. To this day I go by Connor and he hates me for it, but he hates nearly everything this world has given him. His only love was my mother and he blames me for her death, though it was his fists which clubbed her to submission because she wouldn’t hand him a beer before she answered the telephone. Unfortunately, through both their eyes, I relive that moment in fear, hate, and love. It is a vision which haunts more of my life than any other and one I cannot let go of. Even to this day, I hate both of them for it.

As for my father, he secluded me within our trailer where I had no visitors which is a good thing considering my life at the time. I was kept inside a dog cage, fed scraps of his left over food, and not bathed or changed for days. In fact, I was shown no kindness or humanity at all and was beaten relentlessly until the age of three. Had it not been for the memories of the nurses and doctors within me, I would surely have turned into a monster bent on pain and hatred, but their strength and compassion allowed me to endure. It was only after a loud drunken fit by my father that Child Protective Services discovered me and took control of my life.

New Back Cover Blurb for Jeremiah

Old and new back cover blurbs for my soon to be republished Jeremiah (Stone) novel:

OLD: In a vengeful quest, Jeremiah Stone kidnaps a member of the mob and incurs the wrath of both God and the Devil. Within days, he’s had to make some hard choices concerning the lives of others, cheated certain death a half dozen times through both luck and skill, and used up almost every favor he’s ever gained. All of which put him in his current position, treading the line of love and hate with the object of his affections caught somewhere in the middle. Life never turns out as planned, he thinks, frowning internally. So contemplating his situation and realizing he has no choice but to continue, Jeremiah reaches into his backpack. Pulling forth an envelope, he hands it to NYPD Captain Eric Hallaman.

“What’s this,” Eric asked.

“Consider it my last will and testament,” Jeremiah answered. Then, without waiting for a response, he takes two quick strides and leaps towards the other rooftop leaving the captain alone with Opus. Halfway across the span between buildings, Jeremiah hears bullets plunk into the ledge behind him while other whizzed past his head.

Nothing like leaping out of the pan and into the fire Jeremiah thinks as the night swallows him.

Would it matter if he knew his soul is caught in a divine bet between God and the Devil, both of whom have denied him death twice? And it’s death he desires, he just doesn’t want to go out peacefully.

NEW: Angels battle to save humanity while demons forever continue corrupting it. Jeremiah Stone is oblivious to both as his only motivation is revenge. So, even with his soul caught in a twisted bet between God and the Devil, he's only trying to wreak as much havoc as possible on the divine before Death comes calling for him a third time. Unfortunately, Jeremiah's tunnel vision of vengeance leads him to the realization that other lives hang in the balance beyond his own, including the one he loves. Now, as the end draws nearer, he’s discovering every action creates repercussions he can’t account for as he tows a fine line between good and evil. The question is who will come for him first; angels, demons, or someone far worse?

Much simpler, don't you think?

Busy

So just a quick post on how things are going to everyone doesn't think I'm slacking off because I'm not posting much.

First, I finished the first round of editing on A Romance Novel, switching it from past to present tense. Now I'm going through it again adding a bit of flavor to it to appeal to all those women readers. And I've also received the first draft of the book cover for it and so as soon as the editing is done I can put the book out there.

Second, I've started writing in Child of Need once again. For now, the story is at somewhat of an impasse, but I'm working my way through it. Not sure if I'm going to keep the few pages I've written, but at least I'm heading in a direction, whether its the right one or not I don't know. Still, progress is progress, so I'm happy.

Third, I've also started writing in Hades (well, more editing actually) which is the next book of the Jeremiah Stone - Stone Vengeance series. Yes, that's right, I'm not done with it. I'd thought I tied off all the loose ends, but Limbus survives and one of my devoted fans told me (there was no asking involved) that I need to write another one. So after a bit of forethought, I've gotten nearly 6,000 words onto paper and the story is shaping up well.

Forth, since I'm waiting on new covers for the Stone Vengeance series, I'm going through a few areas of the three books and spot checking some things, making minor story adjustments here and there, correcting a few errors, and reworking the beginning of the first book, Jeremiah, and parts of the ending of Azazel.

Lastly, and to round everything out, I've re-written a chapter in my series of nine books names Shadow Gods. This one re-write now allows me to beginning editing the series for real. For those of you who don't know, Shadow Gods is an epic fantasy series, ranges over a thousand years, and provides enough character twists that you'll be rooting for good guys and bad guys alike. This series is also the culmination of 23 years of writing and the true reason why I've wanted to get published. For the two people who've read the series front to back (besides myself), they can't wait for it to get published either because they loved it and every character within the 5,000 pages (1,000,000 words or so). Yes, its that massive.

Until all these projects get complete, though, please take a gander at my newest standalone book titled The Burden of Immortality. Now I don't want to give the premise away, but as far as adventures go, it's one which will twist you about at the end. So don't get to comfortable about where you think the plot is going because you're probably wrong. The question I have to anyone who's read it, did you figure it out at the end because if you look back on it - I left enough clues, right? LOL

Kindle Editions

Just $2.99 for Beginnings: A Jeremiah Stone Novel or The Ferryman: An Opus Wright Novel, so head over to Amazon and pick one or both up and start reading from where the adventure all began.

http://www.amazon.com/S.-Scott-Twigg/e/B007H3TEG4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1379348944&sr=1-1

The Burden Of Immortality is PUBLISHED

Drazan Cvetko hates his life. He’s meant for better than this, but pulling himself out of the gutter isn’t easy. This all changes when his father dies and an old acquaintance delivers to him his father’s encrypted journal. Yet, despising everything the journal means to him, Drazan begins to painstakingly unmask his father’s latest archeological discovery. Unfortunately, it’s not the only journal of his fathers out there and other people, people far beyond his understanding of wealth and power, want what’s contained within the scribbled pages. So, fighting his better judgment, Drazan launches himself into the middle of something he can’t begin to comprehend for the sake of what; a chance at immortality. Is it enough to risk his life for?

Maybe the better question is what does he have to give up in order to acquire it?

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Burden-of-Immortality-ebook/dp/B00FKNQ0L0/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1380723582&sr=1-2&keywords=burden+of+Immortality

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-burden-of-immortality-scott-twigg/1117002997?ean=2940148769248

Hearing Things

First off, and completely off subject, I want to give a huge shout-out to Tyler Melhart who has done the cover art of both Beginnings and The Ferryman, not to mention the cover for my upcoming release of The Burden of Immortality. He's also working on new covers for my series Jeremiah Stone (newly renamed the Stone Vengeance series) which I plan to republish shortly. He deserves a lot of applause for putting up with my demands. Thanks.

Now back to the point of this post. So this is going to sound odd to a few of you, suspicious to most, and just plan crazy to a lot of you, but it's something that's been on my mind for a few days now though this occurred over a week ago. Anyways, though people may not know it, I'm a religious man. I don't often demonstrate this, but if asked then I will answer truthfully with my belief. It is also something I will not argue because I hold this internally and my thoughts (though they stray at times) only cement my belief. So just to be sure everyone understands, I believe what I believe, I don't push my beliefs on others, and I respect that my body is truly a temple of (and for) god. Most of all, I will not say my beliefs are any better than another persons. Yet, it is also due to my beliefs that causes religion becomes a center point of my writing. That being said, I can now continue.

A week or so ago, I was reminiscing over my book The Burden of Immortality, contemplating life and all its vastness, and wondering if there is a beyond. To some these are fatalistic thoughts, or even hearsay, but to me these are just the processes of my wandering mind and over-active imagination. However, unlike most times, these thoughts occupied me for more than just a few minutes or few hours, but rather a few days. When I was done, and believe me when I say I was done I was done, I simply continued with life without another thought, though in all this time I'd not come to a resolution. In fact, I'd discovered nothing. I felt empty for having wasted so much time and thought, yet had come away from it all unfulfilled. Moreover, if anything, I was less of myself at the end than when I started. This is odd for me because I seek meaning in what I do. Still, I left it as it be, and just started life again.

Then several hours later, while driving down a street near my house with nothing but the road on my mind, I heard a voice in my head. First of all, I know right now you're thinking I'm crazy and for that second I have to agree with you. But in that moment, I analyzed everything around me; the softness of the radio in the background, the noise of the cars around me, and even my own thoughts. What I discovered was none of those things were the cause of what I'd heard. In fact, despite my immediate denial of what the voice said, I knew I'd heard the divine. But I also knew I'd never hear it again (well, most likely never hear it again). Yet, what I heard lifted my spirit, it brought meaning back into my life. Most of all, however, it re-established, in an odd way, that my religious belief was good and what I was doing was good. It provided meaning.

Now, I'm not the best person around. I have huge character flaws. I have deviated from the beliefs of my youth more than I like to admit. And I'm not the nicest person to have at your side. Despite this, I try to be a good person. I try to do the right thing. I try to help others. And in my belief, this wins out (most of the time). Anyway, what I heard within my head has supplied me with something I could not have gotten from some one or some place else. This is even more relevant when I take into consideration the single word I heard in a voice as non-descript, yet overwhelmingly positive, as any I've ever heard in my life.

I am now going to pass that word on to you, the word I heard which I can't explain from where it came, and a word which now brings a refreshed smile to my face. So I say in a friendly tone, just as it was said to me, 'Hi'.

Choices

During a fatalistic phase, I wrote this....

We have a choice. Life or Death. We have a choice.

Every day we make a choice, consciously or not, on whether we wish to go on in this façade of a life or not. Most don’t even know they make this choice as they go about their business, but I do. I see the window I can jump out of. I see the approaching bridge as I’m driving. I see the bottle of pills on the counter-top. With everything I see I make the conscious choice to continue my existence because I have more to live for than I have to lose. But with every passing day I wonder if that balance is going to shift. I wonder if what I’m living for is enough. I wonder if I have the strength to fight through a bad day and survive into the next.

There are some days, however, where I have teetered on that brink. I hate those days because if I actually knew I’d made my peace with GOD, you wouldn’t be here to read this.

Nor would I be here to type this. 

Burden - Complete

With feedback given and editing complete, I've made the necessary changes to finish the book. Now it's just time to get the cover done and submit the book for publishing. Quite proud of that, though this is just one more book I will publish in my arsenal yet to be written and published.

For now, here's the back cover of The Burden of Immortality:

Drazan Cvetko hates his life. He’s meant for better than this, but pulling himself out of the gutter isn't easy. This all changes when his father dies and an old acquaintance delivers to him his father’s encrypted journal. Yet, despising everything the journal means to him, Drazan begins to painstakingly unmask his father’s latest archaeological discovery. Unfortunately, it’s not the only journal of his fathers out there and other people, people far beyond his understanding of wealth and power, want what’s contained within the scribbled pages. So, fighting his better judgment, Drazan launches himself into the middle of something he can’t begin to comprehend for the sake of what; a chance at immortality. Is it enough to risk his life for?

Maybe the better question is what does he have to give up in order to acquire it?

New Intro to Jeremiah Stone

Working on an update to Jeremiah Stone by putting a better intro into place. Here's the draft, which drops you straight into where the action begins. Feedback wanted:

With his mind teetering on the edge, Jeremiah reviewed his plan and knew it probably led to certain death, but he was familiar with death. In fact, he’d journeyed across the grey void twice already only to be denied by the Divine both times. In that experience, however, he learned hatred, he learned the meaning of retribution, and he learned a little bit more because after he awoke from his coma he could hear voices, voices which weren't there. But now he knew the truth of them. Now he knew the world was not as it seemed, as everyone believed. There was more occurring than people imagined with Heaven and Hell being just another stepping stone from what we currently lived within. And what no one else knew is that angels and demons moved among us bartering for our lives.

Jeremiah understood that now all because the voices he heard made too much sense. They drifted in and out of his mind like lucid daydreams, but some of the words were of names he knew, names within the mob. Names of men he used to associate with regularly. At least that was the case up until the point he died for the second time. Now, he was abandoned, left for dead, and all alone in the world. That fact didn't bother Jeremiah though because he was also full of hatred, skilled in bending the world to his need, and determined to enact some revenge.

Of course, most wars start with revenge, and Jeremiah knew he was about to start a war. He knew how his actions would create a rift, causing turmoil in an already shaky situation. And he knew that once started there was no walking away. There was no turning back. There was only survival while pursuing his personal vendetta against those who made him who he was, what he was. They were the only ones to blame because there had always been more to Jeremiah than met the eye.

So as Jeremiah paced down the cold concrete among the darkened skyscrapers of Manhattan, he could only fathom one action; the kidnapping Zygi Wolf. Why Zygi? Because he was the one man his new enemies seemed interested in. He was also the one man Jeremiah was going to use to piss off the Divine enough to get their attention. This one action was going to be the start of his war, a war against both God and the Devil for taking away his death. Soon enough, his pain was going to be their pain. He just hoped he’d survive long enough to twist the screws deep enough that neither would deny him death again.

Jeremiah Stone - Fighting Chance

The excerpt you’re about to read from ‘Jeremiah Stone’ is still under draft, but you can get a sense of action the novel entails. In the story, Jeremiah has just saved and taken into protection (from angels, demons, and police alike) a crime syndicate up-and-comer named Zygi Wolf.  They’re currently holed-up in a New York City hotel (which Zygi considers a dump) with Jeremiah questioning him about his importance.

“How should I know?” Zygi replied with innocence. “I’m one of the proverbial ‘bad guys’, so I guess it could be anything.”

Jeremiah stared at the man for a few seconds not satisfied with the answer while hoping his stoic stance would intimidate the man a little. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re not the typical drug lord or mafia type, but you run in both circles. So what are you not telling me?” Even as he asked, however, Jeremiah made a connection of his own, one he didn’t want to contemplate, but he felt was the truth. Then, just as Zygi opened his mouth to answer, Jeremiah heard a whisper. An instant later he launched himself across the room at Zygi, grabbed a fist full of the man’s shirt, altered his weight, and flung Zygi through the doorway into the single bedroom with a crash just as the door to the apartment burst open. Luckily Jeremiah’s momentum was already moving towards the door, so he let it carry himself into the midst of policemen even as they brought their weapons to bear. 

Training helps a person prepare for real life situations, but when the opposite occurs during those times than everything is thrown off balance. So it is with the police, as they expect people to either freeze or run away giving them a second to analyze the situation and react accordingly. They never suspect an unarmed man to dive into their midst faster than humanly possible. To say they lost the upper hand in that first second would be an understatement as Jeremiah’s fist impacted the fourth man’s flak jacket with enough force to put knuckle imprints in its quarter-inch thick steel plate. Then Jeremiah turned his attention to targets one, two, and three. Spinning, he kicked the legs out from number three while backhanding number two shattering the man’s visor, then slammed his fist down into number three smashing him into the floor. By now, number one was spinning around bringing his weapon about. Jeremiah was just a bit slow in turning as two shots thudded into his chest and shoulder, but knowing his timing was off by just that much he altered his weight and skin density allowing the force of the bullets to twist his upper body to the right as his left fist shattered both the door frame and the man’s right bicep. As the gun dropped, Jeremiah shifted all his weight to the left stopping his momentum abruptly as number one’s momentum continued into him allowing Jeremiah to grab the man’s vest. Yanking it downward, the man caught Jeremiah’s rising knee. With a heavy grunt the man stilled before Jeremiah let him fall to the floor in a heap.

Jeremiah stopped and surveyed the scene in satisfaction. Four down in four second and all of them would live, which was a good thing since none of them were either angels or demons.

With a turn, he took a step back into the room and saw Zygi lying limply against the dresser, though still breathing. Damn, he thought. He wasn’t about to carry the man away, so he’d just have to leave him for now, though he wasn’t that useful anymore, he told himself as he reflected on his last thought before the policemen’s interruption.

Jeremiah’s ability to alter his weight became a study (after his second death) into whether it was truly his weight or his density he was altering. Believing it had to be the latter; he’s since tuned his power and thoughts into increasing his skin’s density into something more like hardened leather while making his innards lighter. This means he’s able to maintain his weight while turning his skin into something akin to a bullet-proof jacket. Granted, he still has to dig the bullets out of his skin and receives some really bad bruising, but he survives and is unhindered by the bulkiness of a true Kevlar jacket.

Hope

A twist of hope:

Hope is not always what it seems. Hope can be a killer. Hope can be a twist of the knife in the small of your back when you least expect it. Hope can be the turning point from life to death. Hope brings forth thoughts of salvation when disaster looms heavy, right before the floor falls out from beneath your feet. Hope is the angel of irony. Hope is God's joke on humanity.

Yet it is hope that causes us to aspire to something greater than what we are. It is hope which reaches out it's hand in the most desperate of times, raising us out of the ashes. And it's hope which gives many of us the will to live another day.

I have lived with hope for a long time and often I pray that hope never leaves me, even when it falters sometimes. This is because I doubt humanity can evolve without it. In fact, I doubt I can evolve without it. This is the power of hope.

Some Romance

Reviewing my romance novel and some snippets within which I wrote years ago when I came across this. It's fits into the story quite well and, though it may be a bit cheesy, it makes me wonder if it carries any truth. So I'm sharing it with you now to see if anything like this really matters? Does it carry any meaning beyond that single night? It's titled Intoxicating. I hope you enjoy.

I inhale the sweet scent of your perfume, see the sway of your body, taste the passion on your lips, and I know I have found all that I desire. You are perfection in my eyes as I run my fingers through your delicate hair, brushing it from your eyes so I can see into the depth of your soul. I feel the pounding of your heart against mine as our bodies mingle, intertwine, in an intimate embrace. I sense your needs and provide as your body arches and curls in rhythm to my touch. I hear the soft moans from deep within your throat and the tremors of pleasure passing through you on your way to release.

For me, I walk a fine line in hopes I give enough stimulation to satisfy, but not enough to overexcite. I want you to last as long as possible on the edge of ecstasy. I want you to remember my touch, my breath, my soft caress on those lonely nights when we are apart. I hope you ask for me to spend more tender moments within your embrace. I am yours and wish you to be mine for another night. I seek only your pleasure in what I do, for my deepest desire is the fulfillment of yours.

Back to the Grind, yet Standing Still

Follow-up: So both The Ferryman: An Opus Wright Novel and The Burden of Immortality are out for final review right now. I've also received the new cover for Ferryman and am pending the initial cover for Burden. In addition, I've commissioned the drawing I want to use for my series of 9 epic fantasy books and am getting a cover done for my A Romance Novel book. In all, things are progressing well concerning book covers and reviews.

Counter to this, however, is my writing. Edits on A Romance Novel have come to a stand-still and I've all but stopped writing my newest novel Child of Need because my motivation is at an all time low. I've even contemplated a new chapter in my series of 9 books which should make things move smoother through the beginning, but don't have the energy to even begin that project. Maybe soon I'll get some of my energy back, but right now I think all the effort I've put into self-publishing is taking its toll. And though I'm happy because of it, it's been quite the drain.

Cover Drawing for Shadow Gods, epic fantasy:

GenCon is Over

So now that's it's been a few days (days of recovery) since GenCon Indianapolis, I feel it's time for me to give a bit of a summary on the entire proceedings.

First off, it was easier to man the booth than I suspected, though it would've been nice to have some company and a little of relief at times so I couldn't done some shopping, grabbed lunch, or hit the restroom from time to time. Still, the people in the booths next to me were good enough to provide some assistance, so that helped.

Second, concerning the other authors, they were great. The authors near me were fantastic people. In fact, the author across the aisle from me lives in Yelm, WA, which is all of 30 miles from my house. Most of the other authors were either local to Indianapolis, from Chicago, or from Cincinnati. Best of all, they were all very encouraging, relating their past experiences with both GenCon and other conventions they've attended. To someone willing to listen (me), it was an eye-opening montage of information. What I learned most, however, was that not a single author makes enough in sales to actually cover their costs at these things. Though I kind of already knew this, it was the confirmation I needed to know it's not just me, but all of us, who are trying to make it in a business with is now flooded due to self-publishing being so readily available.

Third, concerning the people, they were a good crowd. Unfortunately, most of the people at the convention were only there to game. After all, GenCon labels itself as the 'Best 4 Days of Gaming' which is exactly what it is. The ENTIRE convention center is dedicated toward gaming with only a small area actually used for vendors, like myself. Because of this, maybe a quarter of the people attending make it into the vendor area and maybe only 20 percent of those made it back to were the artists and authors were. This made traffic kind of light through our section, so everyone of the authors sold less than they expected. It was a bit disparaging on the first day, but each day garnered more traffic and in turn more sales. So it wasn't all bad.

Overall, it was a great event, though I'm unlikely to do it again. We'll see though.

For some other news, I've finished edits on Ferryman and will be sending it out for another review shortly. I'm also expecting edits back shortly on Burden of Immortality. And since those are both out of my hands at the moment, I'm beginning to work on editing of my romance novel (well, rewriting it is more likely the case). Anyway, things are rolling along smoothly and hopefully both Burden and Ferryman will be out by the end of September. I'll keep you informed.

Smiles....

Progress Being Made

So I've been a little bit busy lately working on several projects: self-publishing Beginnings-A Jeremiah Stone Novel through CreateSpace, editing The Ferryman-An Opus Wright Novel which should be out shortly, and rewriting The Burden of Immortality from the correct point-of-view. Considering all this, I pleased to say Beginnings is out and the editing/rewriting is complete and both those books should be out shortly. I'm very excited.

On another note, I'm preparing for GenCon Indianapolis which will occur between Aug 15-19. I have a booth there to promote my books and have shipped three boxes full out there and will have to hand-carry the rest of the stuff. Wish me luck since I think I'm doing the convention pretty much by myself. That's 40,000 people I hope to coral to my writing, though I'll be happy with just getting two thousand to come by and take a business card. I also don't want to return with books, so I hope to sell the 80+ I shipped.

Now, for a bit of The Ferryman, here's the Prelude I wrote. It's simple, concise, and leads directly into the story:

The demon Hades wants a servant. Someone who can do his bidding, yet appear independent. Someone completely unattached to him and to the world. Someone he can mold and manipulate from afar. Someone without a sense of morality, who can kill without a second thought. Someone he can develop into an angel and demon killer. Someone who believes Hades isn't as he appears.

He believes he’s found that person in Shawn Patrick, a man who has just recently lost his sense of life. However, as the episode plays out, Hades knows he’s wrong. Shawn Patrick isn't the perfect candidate. In fact, he’s found someone better. Someone…younger.

Behind Schedule

So I'm a little bit behind schedule on publishing my next two books. I realize I set my goal a little too ambitiously, but I didn't know editing was going to take quite so long. Because of that, Beginnings and The Ferryman will be out a couple months late, but still by mid-August (I hope). The good news is the books are better because of the additional time spent re-reading and re-editing. In addition, the book after these two, The Burden of Immortality, should be coming out early. I just completed my second edit of the book and am about to send it off for another review. Excited to see some things come together more quickly than I thought.

For those of you who have read Jeremiah Stone, Limbus, and Azazel (all part of the Jeremiah Stone trilogy), be glad to know Beginnings and The Ferryman are both prequels, though The Ferryman concerns the character Opus Wright and its quite the page turner. As for The Burden of Immortality, its a stand alone novel that will have you guessing until the end. Here's a taste of each:

Beginnings: Skirting the law while skipping between Ivy League schools in search of himself, Jeremiah finally finds someone who accepts him for who he truly is. This love, however, is short-lived as his latest interlude raises more than just the police’s curiosity. Within weeks, he’s on the run again with only one safe option to turn too, but can he manage to endure his choice while surviving the initiation process or will he lose himself within the folds of the mafia with powerful enemies on all sides. His life hangs in the balance as both friends and enemies weigh their options against a quick profit. In a last ditch play, he returns to the one person who might love him in return. The only question he has is will she accept where his choices have led him while knowing the danger he’s in or will she turn away like so many others. More importantly, can he live with himself if he puts her in danger? Unfortunately, it’s not his decision as external forces converge around him in an explosive confrontation.

The Ferryman: Brian Dalton thought he was going to survive his genius with only a resentful childhood, but when his parents are murdered in front of him, his life takes an odd change for the worse. Now, obsessed with Death, Brian is pulled into the CIA who’s more than willing to use his abilities to their advantage in a massive mole hunt. Brian, however, has other plans as he uses his mental prowess and new-found skills to commit a string of murders against his own personal enemies. But no one’s perfect, Brian realizes as he taunts an up-and-coming FBI agent’s morals who starts to close the noose around the killings. Disappearing under his CIA cover, Opus Wright, Brian temporarily escapes as his superiors are pulled into the mix while he struggles to stay one step ahead of everyone in a game he’s still learning. With his plans on the verge of backfiring, he wonders if his fascination with Death will prove to be his savior or his downfall.

The Burden of Immortality: Drazan Cvetko hates his life. He was meant for better than this, but pulling himself out of the gutter isn't easy. This all changes when his father dies and an old acquaintance delivers to him his father’s encrypted journal. Yet, despising everything the journal means to him, Drazan begins to painstakingly unmask his father’s latest archaeological discovery. Unfortunately, it’s not the only journal of his fathers out there and other people, people far beyond his understanding of wealth and power, want what’s contained within the scribbled pages. So, fighting his better judgment, Drazan launches himself into the middle of something he can’t begin to comprehend for the sake of what; a chance at immortality. Is it enough to risk his life for? Maybe the better question is what does he have to give up to acquire it?

Moods

If you've been keeping up with my blog then you know I've been editing Burden (my last completed project). The edits have been rough, but now the story has become readable. Moreover, the man character begins to show his personality, his drive, and it all has to do with conveying the mood he's in. Whether is fear or elation, dread or hate; he's now recognizing his motivation, something he hasn't done before. Because of that, he's filling out as a person you my endear to or come to sympathize with. By the end, I hope you understand his choice and, under his circumstances, make the same choice yourself. It's a stretch, but living the person's life, feeling the person's loves and hates, and understanding his moods only enables you to become a step closer to being that person. That's the difference I'm making now in my edits.

Now for something different:

I’m sad you’re so far away from my heart,

I can’t begin to count the days we've been apart.

Joy has left me as worry starts to take its toll,

Filling this aching deep within my lonely soul.

Will you remember me, will I lighten your step,

Or will I just banish what little we have left?

Now I begin to count the days we've been apart,

And I’m sad you’re so far away from my heart.

Talk

I talk a lot about editing and how much I dislike it, which is the truth. The problem is I tend to write as I think and some words just don't make it onto paper. I've noticed another problem, I  substitute 'a' for whatever word I'm thinking of , yet can't remember how to spell, when my fingers are flying at a blazin' 45 w/m. As you can tell, I'm not the fastest typist, which I think is another problem. My mind is working fast than I type at times and therefore I skip things. Either way, no matter how careful I am, I invariably screw it up. In Burden, I screwed it up a lot, but I think with Burden part of it was my disjointed writing as I fought with where the story was leading. Near the end, I hope it gets better, but for now it's painfully bad.

Good news on Burden, however. I had my son read the new ending and he thought it was excellent.

Now for something different:

Time doesn't make the heart grow fonder. Neither does distance. Both create broken men with broken hearts who yearn for better times and better days, though those wants are like ships in the distance. They hover at the edge of perception where, in a blink of an eye, they can disappear over the horizon never to be seen again. And, despite hope, they may never reach the same port again as despair overwhelms the senses. 

There's a saying, actually a few, which proffer to propose if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, then it was meant to be. I'm not a big fan of letting go. Actually, I'm not a big fan of finding either because something always seems to be unsettling within me. I call it doubt, and it spreads like a virus, invades like a weed. Once it has a foothold, it's almost impossible to remove it. This is where it stands now, crushing the life out of me.

Do I endure or do I succumb? It's the choice only old men have to make. Or maybe it should be, it's what makes us old men.

Quickie

I'm gonna make this quick today because I'm tired... tired of editing... tired of re-reading the same thing a dozen times looking for mistakes... and just plan tired. Despite all this though, I do have some good news. My son read through Burden and like the story, suggested a few changes, and after a few days thinking about how to adjust the ending, those changes have really enhanced the book. Unfortunately, the editing of the book has started and it's worse than I'd originally thought. I wrote the novel in first person, from the main characters point of view in the present, however, I don't seem to follow this all the time. Correcting this is easy, but time consuming. Thankfully, I'm a quarter of the way through the book already and I'm feeling much better about how the story reads,though I have yet to have my son read the new ending.

On another note, I'm getting edits back, reviewing cover designs, and preparing myself for another convention: GenCon in Indy. It's going to be a heck of a trip and I hope I can pull it off as I don't think I'll have much help manning the booth.Volunteers? Anyway, getting excited in lieu of how exhausted I am. I'll be glad when I can finally relax near the end of the year and just write (or so I dream).

Signing off now. Good night and may your dreams be filled with action heroes, dangerous villains, and beautiful damsels in distress.

Shameful

I've written books. I've written a lot of books, sixteen to be exact. So far, I've published three, am editing four right now, and have seven more I want to write. It's a lot to wrap my head around at times. Yet, this doesn't make me a good writer, though someday I believe I will be one. Right now, my problem is not with writing. It's with editing. I hate it. I'm not good at it. To spend time doing it really unnerves me. It is, however, my biggest weakness. Because I know I'm bad at it, I've been practicing writing better so the editing isn't so bad. Irregardless, that hasn't worked either (just read one of my last blogs concerning Burden to understand this viewpoint).

A few month ago I thought to publish a book or two on my own. I edited, re-edited, re-edited some more, and finally said enough's enough. They had to be pretty decent considering all the time I put into them, so I was about to make a go of it on my own. Then, perchance, I got an editing offer I couldn't refuse and took it. Sure, it'd delay me a month or two, but it'd be worth it. AND, because I've already edited the hell out of these books already, it shouldn't take that long. I have a single word to describe my editing after receiving my fully edited novels back; shameful. Thanks to the new editor, hundreds of mistakes I overlooked were found.  Just how this was possible, I don't know, though I've formulated an opinion on my editing ability: I suck!

Anyway, I've updated one of the two books I've received back and am working on the second, which I hope to finish within the week. Then both will be edited again and my changes gone over. Maybe then I'll call them good, but for now I can only say an author can only edit his work to a point before all is lost. This is my realization. No matter how much I may try to edit, another set of eyes will always find mistakes. Hopefully, I can limit those mistakes in the books to come.

And for those who've read Jeremiah Stone, Limbus, and Azazel; I'm working on those also so please don't think all my books will contain so many grammatical mistakes. After all, it takes time to be good at something, so I'm spending some time at editing. Wish me luck.

Good and Bad

So I've had to do a bit of research on Astrology lately for my current project along with looking into the fabled mysticism of Tarot in order to create a scene vital to the story line. From this, I've put together a scene in which the main character gets a Reading and I interpret the results based on my research (and it's something I don't want to get wrong). So, after a bit of time, I've come up with my plan and executed it hoping I wasn't way off base. Guess what, after sending the section of the book off to a friend who knows a friend who does Readings, I was able to get some positive feedback. I'd gotten it correct (mostly) and with only a few minor tweaks, it'd stand up under scrutiny. After all, I like things I've written to be plausible, even for fiction. For me, the believability factor is crucial (as I suspect it is with most authors).

Anyway, with this out of the way, I can continue to let the story unfold. Best of all, with my good guys acting as bad guys and my bad guys acting nice, the main character is caught in a dilemma of who can she trust and not trust as she's pulled in every direction except the one she wants to go. And with a love interest thrown into the mix, her decisions are often not what they should logically be, especially since the Tarot Reading suggested any venture into love will end in tragedy. Of course, she doesn't remember much of the Reading because of the stress of the situation. Oh well, her loss.

Now for the bad news: I've run out of time to write. For a period there, I was jamming along, but then my trip finished, I got home, and things have come to a screeching halt. Yard work, house work, camping, family, etc… it all prevents me from following my passion to the point I've lost my focus on the book. I’m stuck, wandering aimlessly about as if I don’t know where the story should head next, even if I did have time to write. This isn't good and reminds me of my time spent on Burden, something I dread repeating. Either way, I've come to a halt and hope to someday soon get back in the writing mood. Until I have time, I’ll jut have to ponder the possibilities and bide my time.

Perfection

I've come to the conclusion (as probably every authors have) that a book is never perfect. There are always tweaks and choices to be made, actions or descriptive to be added, and character development to fiddle with. But at some point we all say enough is enough and publish the darn thing foregoing the one last re-write. I have done this and regretted it a bit as I've re-read parts and pieces from each of the stories I've put into print and made tiny adjustments or massive changes based on feed back I've received or just my mindset at that moment in time. Though never fear, the core story remains the same and putting out another version with the minor fixes is easy. Now back to my point; finding perfection or lack there of. Today just happened to be a prime example of this. 

With a bit of free time, I looked over the current book I'm writing, Child of Need. It's good and I'm being a bit more thoughtful, a bit more descriptive, and looking for just the right turn of phrase instead of just getting words onto paper. Even then, as I read a paragraph I'd written just a week ago, I found a half dozen things I needed to change, add, or delete. Frustrated with finding so many errors (at least in my opinion), I decided to look into another book I've had an odd feeling about, Azazel. Granted, Azazel is already published (which brings me back to a few regrets), but what's done is done. However, there's a part at the end of the book I've been thinking about for a while which doesn't seem to make sense, so I took a peek. A bit of re-writing and a paragraph later, it sound and reads better, but it's still not done. The one change has cascaded into a few more changes which are needed as I ponder the ending even further. But having cleaned up some of it, I decided to move on to another story I've been working on, a novel concerning Limbus. Again, changes ensued, though not a new word written.

In all three cases, what was perfectly fine once was changed, tweaked, or altered in order to make it read smoother, better, or just make more sense. Yet, in a week, I'll go back and look over those changes again and may undo what I changed. In a way it sucks, but for the most part its a necessary process we all go through. Now if we only had an editor who could read our minds and adjust the story accordingly, we'd all be good. Unfortunately, I can barely read my own mind at times, so that's just not happening for me. For now and the near future, I'll just have to deal with my imperfections.

And let the editing continue.....

What's happening NOW!!!

You know, I'm not really keeping up on my blog like I want, but than work hasn't been cooperating much lately. Long nights and seventeen hours days does leave one a bit tired and unmotivated. Today, however, I'm beginning to reverse the process. With some time to myself, I wrote 2,000 words on top of the 6,000 I started a few days ago in Child of Need. It's not much, but its progress and I can't argue with any time I get to write. And I'm actually liking the story. I was unsure of it at first, but the time I've spent rolling the idea around in my head has lent itself to a good start (at least I think so). 

This is also the first time I've tried to write from a woman's point of view. This isn't to say I haven't written women's parts before, but this book will solely be from her view. So far, I find it a little daunting as I have to take a step back and see myself as more emotional and reactive instead of logical and proactive (a main theme to the male characters I write). While this doesn't seems overly difficult, it's out of the norm for me causing me to change the opening few scenes already. I must say, however, it adds a level of unpredictability to the story which hasn't been a bad thing.

The other thing I've noticed is I've created the main character (Cassandra) to be a bit of a bitch. She's uptight, self-righteous, and stubborn, though inside she's quite the opposite. All I can say for now is I like her. In a few chapters that may change, but it seems to work at the moment.

Now for something completely different; a moment of poetry I attempted years ago. (PS - Don't read into it too much because its just the ramblings of a disturbed man....me...LOL)

Now

Time is a distant memory

      Passing though the oblivion of an honest mind

To think of here and now

      Is perception’s past of the meaningless kind

Were figments of thoughts

      Are delayed in glorious and righteous truth

The end of eternity

      Where existence lies without concrete proof

The sum of a perfect life

      Souls caught within heaven’s majestic sight

Cherishing moments peace

      Finding strength in Christ’s overwhelming light

Standing before pearly gates

      Within touching distance of pure faith and grace

Stepping into perfection

      And into the reality of God’s enlightened place

A journey's completion

      The end and beginning of a very adverse road

Where destiny provides

      Into his graces and truth my soul has been sold

Problem Solved

Since finishing Burden, I've tried to decide what project I should take on next only to have it fall upon Child of Need. Again, the book will take a little bit of research to complete, but I think it will be by far simpler than Burden. As to what the book is about, think about the possibility of Astrology actually having more meaning than just offering up personality traits. What if the alignment of the planets imbued powers unto a few who were born at the right place at exactly the right time? And now base those powers on what we know of Greek Mythology. For instance, what if being born under the planet Mars (known for being the God of War) imbued an aggressive, confrontational nature? Take it one step further and it could provide the answer to Hitler, Genghis Khan, or Napoleon. Think about it, but for now I’ll leave you with just that.

As for Burden, I've printed it off and given it to my son to read. He’ll be done with it in a couple days, since he’s an avid reader, and I’ll get my first feedback on the story. From there, I’ll make a few corrections (depending on his response), then push it toward editing.

And speaking of editing, I've decided I’ll start working on my series of nine books in between corrections on Burden, co-authoring Dream Savior, and writing Child of Need. It’s a lot to deal with, but just as when I was writing Burden, I was working on the beginning of three other books and editing two others. I guess I’m just a gluten for punishment when it comes to taking on projects.

Now for something different: Willful Denial

I trail my fingertips across her breeding hips and ponder the smoothness of her skin. It makes me wonder of the future, of where my life is heading, and whether I shall ever leave a legacy upon this world, if even such a thing matters. I doubt it, as I imagine the pitter-patter of feet echo through my mind. In some ways I hope it never comes to pass because what is there to live for in this world. I witness suffering, crime, and societal degradation daily. These things do not lighten my heart, but rather puts a burden upon it. Still, there must be some value to this existence, some importance for being here. Then I remember myself and peer downward only to find you at me side. My life does have meaning because you have touched it. You have given significance where none has existed before. Knowing this, feeling this, experiencing this only makes me realize I will not deny this from another, especially an unborn child.

A Little Late

So I'm a little late between posts, but you'll soon understand why.... I was working on AND finishing Burden over the past week. However, what I thought would be 5,000-10,000 words ended up being closer to 20,000. So at just under 73,000, Burden is complete. Now for the kicker, the ending changed three times today as words mixed with story line which mixed with expectations. Despite the frantic re-writes, I think it came out better than I'd hoped. Looking for a quick preview, then enjoy my quick write-up.

Burden of Immortality: Back Cover

Drazan Cvetko hates his life. He was meant for better than this, but pulling himself out of the gutter isn’t easy. This all changes when his father dies and an old acquaintance delivers to him his father’s encrypted journal. Yet, despising everything the journal means to him, Drazan begins to painstakingly unmask his father’s latest archeological discovery. Unfortunately, it’s not the only journal of his fathers out there and other people, people far beyond his understanding of wealth and power, want what’s contained within the scribbled pages. So, fighting his better judgment, Drazan launches himself into the middle of something he can’t begin to comprehend for the sake of what; a chance at immortality. Is it enough to risk his life for?

Maybe the better question is what does he have to give up to acquire it?

Estimations

So my estimation is off. I thought I'd be done with Burden within 5,000-10,000 words, but it looks doubtful now since I just surpassed 65,000 and still have a couple chapters to go. I would like to say the finale is looking up, especially since a semi-climatic scene (which some might think is the end) only continues into another. And with that, all I can hope for it that the story hasn't become lost in all the twists and turns. In fact, I hope the last few pages caps the book with a solid 'Damn, I should've gotten that' admission. Which, looking back on it, is what nearly everyone should realize without it being too obvious.

On another front, I'm getting the first drafts of the covers for Beginnings and they're looking great. The book Dream Savior will be next, which will be a project unto itself. And then there's the editing of both along with Ferryman which needs to be completed. Overall, a busy time for me, but my juggling skills are holding up for now.

One last thing for now. I've gotten a few questions concerning Jeremiah Stone, Limbus, and Azazel about which order they go in and/or can they be read separately. First of all, Jeremiah Stone is the first and can be read on its own. Limbus and Azazel are 2nd and 3rd respectively with Limbus leading right into Azazel and both need to be read after Jeremiah Stone. I guess the point is it's a trilogy and though the books are not numbered as such, they should be read that way. Maybe I'll get new covers made which state this more clearly, but until then this is what I've got for an explanation.

And thanks for reading.

Beginnings and an End

First off, I want to thank a very patient young man who developed the cover of Ferryman for me, Tyler Melhart. I say patient because I must've emailed him a dozen times with different suggestion concerning how thing were laid out only to reverse what I asked for the next day after seeing how horrible the implementation of my suggestion looked (completely my fault). Thankfully, he has a better eye than I do so it worked out for the best. And please, let me know what you think of it since you can compare it to my draft at the bottom of the page (for a little longer at least).

And if you look closely, the face in the eye is none other than from  the cover of Jeremiah Stone which, if you've read the book, you know to be Hades. Considering how this turned out, I'm similarly optimistic he can do the same for my other books, starting with Beginnings which I know my rough draft to be kinda plain.

Along the same lines of looking toward the future, I turned over both Ferryman and Beginnings to be edited while getting the first round of edits back for Dream Savior. As expected (because I haven't edited Dream Savior before) there were a lot of corrections, at least in the beginning. Starting about mid-way through the book, the edits thin out which I hope is a good thing. However, I do know one of the last scenes needs to be drastically re-written, along with all the dreams sequences in the book, a task my editor/co-author has decided to take on. Well see how it all turns out shortly, though I think Dream Savior will go through many more edits before being finalized, so it may not be out by August as I'd hoped.

Lastly, I've made some progress on Burden. Where I was once stuck is now no longer an issue and I've pieced together where the story is heading up to the finale. So far, I'm 58,500+ words into it and have another 5,000-10,000 to go, maybe more. Anyway, I'm working it and plan to finish it within the next month or so, depending on my travel schedule and spare time. Speaking of which, maybe I should hustle upstairs to write a few words now.

Going On

So I've only got a few things going on. First, my book Burden is still moving forward. It's slow going at times, but I'm at 57,000+ words and about 5-6 chapters from finishing. Hopefully I'll be done with it soon. Second, I'm getting my book Dream Savior back from editing soon which I'll have to go over completely and do a final edit. In the meantime, I need to start working on the cover for it. Then there's Beginnings and Ferryman which are going out for final editing soon also. Both are getting covers designed for them shortly, one is almost complete and the other should follow shortly afterward. All this means is by mid-June (cross my fingers), I'll have three more books coming out. After that, I think I'll take a break...LOL. Realistically, I think I'll get editing on Burden complete and maybe look into edits on my romance novel for early 2014 release.

Then comes the big task, editing my series of nine! This will be a huge undertaking, but its the reason I started writing in the first place and the story is sooooo good. And I love every single one of the characters, especially the woman Chalas. Her character is so strong and compelling, her confidence so absolute, there is just no denying her when she tasks those around her with things to do. The phrase 'utter, undeniable control' comes to mind. And she's only one of a dozen characters which drive the story forward. Its a grand adventure where the happy ending only means you've survived. Anyway, I think by the time I reach mid-2014 it'll be time to begin publishing those books - one every six months if I'm lucky.

And during all this time, I still plan to write. I know...it may be a bit unrealistic, but I have high goals I set for myself. Hopefully, one day, I can relax and just write without a deadline, but for now that's not a possibility.

So for now, I'm juggling with optimism.

Small Adjustments

Sometimes you think you never have time to do the little things yet we all know its the little things often make the biggest differences. Tonight I took the time to do one of those little things I've been meaning to do for quite some time. By this I mean I've edited my blog layout just a bit. By this I mean I've gone in an manually edited the HTML code to add a few items I've been wanting to do for quite some time yet haven't found the time for. Namely, I added widgets down the right sidebar for Limbus and Azazel, adjusted the picture for Jeremiah Stone in the sidebar so it fits better, and added links to each of the pictures so if a blogger clicks on the pic it takes them to the book listing on Amazon. I've also adjusted the page width and changed out the picture at the bottom to show all five titles which will soon be out. Again, these are simple things with took me about two hours, but its two hours I never seemed to find before.

Also, along the theme of little things, I have to admit even when I was feeling sick while squished in a center seat of a plane over the Rocky Mountains I was writing. I wasn't really in the mood, but I needed to finish a chapter so I put my mind to task and ended up starting the next chapter. Granted it was less than a thousand words, but every little bit counts. And I've always said words written down are ten times better than words written only in your thoughts. Besides, if they suck you can always go back and edit them. The best part of this writing, however, was the mental state of focusing and accomplishing even though my body didn't feel willing which gives me the confidence to forget about writer's block and just get to it.

Lastly, I want to give a shout out to those who've read my books, liked them, and reviewed them on either Amazon or Barnes & Noble. It's this type of encouragement which stirs my motivation to continue with my passion. Fortunately for the readers following me, I have a lot more books, both written and in the works, I want to get out to you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I love writing them.

Thanks, and good night.

Purpose

Most of the time I right with a purpose. I have a starting thought and somehow work through any difficulties only to discover my direction may have changed but the end goal is still reached. Today, my writing was not like this. Today, I started off with nothing but a half completed chapter which lacked direction and focus. Thankfully, words and ideas twisted together giving purpose to where none existed before. Best part of it all, it all made sense in the end and leads the reader down a path I hope will provide enlightenment along with setting up that unexpected turn of events later on. After all, writing isn't always supposed to be predictable.

On another note, I saw a movie today which was both sadly predictable and unrealistic. I'm almost ashamed to have paid money to witness the atrocity which constitutes a decently written movie script by Hollywood. This is not to say I could do better, but then I'm not a script writer, however, I do think Jeremiah Stone or my upcoming book Dream Savior would provide something new to the public. Now saying that might seem brash, but after witnessing the simple stupidity of recent films I can't help but to throw down the proverbial gauntlet. And I do know one of these days I'll get my chance to prove myself to a greater audience. For now, I'll plod away as my writing improves from book to book, idea to idea. Best of all, I have lots of ideas.

Lastly, my next book to complete is coming along swimmingly. Burden is both simple and masterful. It follows a similar theme of most of my books, but this one has had its challenges. Its been the most difficult book I've written to date because I've had to plan things out logically, create scenarios which are both plausible and surreal, while evolving the main character as he journeys from loser to... well I'm not going to give it away here. (lol) Anyway, I'll be glad to finish it and move it into the editing phase, as I've done with so many other books. Nevertheless, I hope to have it out by this time next year so you won't have to wait long before you can either love it or criticize it. After all, the ending is not as you may suspect, at least I hope it's not.

More of a Burden

So I'm back to writing Burden, though it's not been easy. I've ran into writer's block more than a few times and have had to stop to conduct research on a half dozen occasions. But luckily, a few days of concentrating on where the story should go has broken the block once again. This time it pertained to an economic rant which never seemed to sound right, never seemed coerced enough for it to really happen. Well, now it's happened and I can move on with the rest of the story. Not only that, but the main character has gained spite which will serve him well later down the line.

So what does it take to break writer's block; well it probably varies from person to person but this is what works for me. And just for the record, it was something I read and not something I made up on my own. The piece of advice I read was to think about the story, get excited about what comes next, and when the moment comes you just let the words flow. For me, it took three nights of working through several problems, playing out the confrontation in my head, and when it hit me I sat down and wrote it. Unfortunately, that's not the only thing I had to do, but it did help.

The other thing was to read a little and to write something off topic. Of course, I wrote more than just one thing out of the ordinary (I started another book and wrote a few odd things like the tribute to my dog, Duke). After all this, and two months time, I'm finally back into burden and I have a path forward. So in reality Burden has been a burden to write, but with every failed page or rewritten line, it's becomes a better book (at least I hope it has). And though I'm still a long ways from being finished, I've leaped over another hurdle on the way to completion.

The other good thing about this is I have another story I've committed myself to writing. Hopefully, it will be easier to write then Burden.

New Novel - Hades

This is an excerpt of a new novel I just started. I couldn't sleep last night because this was occupying my mind so now I'm putting it onto paper. Enjoy:

The past four years had not been good for Limbus. His mother and father had died, he’d been adopted in an odd sort of way and forcibly moved to West Virginia, and Melissa had turned eighteen and fled with a hundred thousand of his money. As for the last part, it didn’t upset him so much because he somehow knew it was coming. He traveled a lot destroying pockets of demons on the FBI dime nearly every other weekend which meant Melissa was home alone. That constant fear, constant tension, had finally gotten to her and she left saying she was going back to visit her brother who’d now graduated from college. It was supposed to just be a family get-together, but a text message from the Pittsburgh airport told him differently. Limbus accepted it, replied with a simple goodbye, and didn’t look back. Though it was days like this one when he remembered she’d once been the light of his life, innocent of the world and hanging on his arm with a joyous smile. Those days had changed and not for the better.

Today was always different for Limbus though. This was the day his parents died, the day they defeated Azazel, and the day the world was set straight, or so he believed. That honeymoon, however, didn’t last long. Life had their own set of demands on him, along with Tom Rice of the FBI, his surrogate father. With only a little respite, Limbus had been put to work. At first he thought it was a good thing. He was eradicating evil, removing demons from the face of the earth and returning them to Hell while allowing the angels to once again regain a foothold against their plans. But as weeks dragged into months, the job became a burden. For him, there were no vacations. There were only emergencies on the other side of the country and Melissa wasn’t allowed to go. It was only him and Tom or Bill, and neither of them was much good to him.

And for his service he got a text message from the airport saying goodbye.

From then on, Limbus focused himself on training his body and mind. Following his father’s routine, he worked out for hours a day, though he removed himself from sports. It was too much of a demand on his time when he didn’t know where he might be the next weekend or even the next day. When he wasn’t working out, he applied himself to school and graduated top of his class which landed him a few academic scholarships, though he wasn’t in need of any. His father had left him enough money he didn’t have to work if he didn’t want to, but then the FBI would always have their demands on him. Thankfully, after he turned eighteen, they didn’t restrict him from moving south to someplace warm so he could attend the school of his choice.

Of course his arrive in Orlando wasn’t met with fanfare which was okay with him. He wanted to keep a low profile. He wanted to exist under the radar. He wanted to just go to school, learn investment strategies in their business college, and ensure the money his father had left him never ran out. And with the stipend the FBI paid him as a specialized contractor, it ensured he didn’t have to dip into his own money unless he had too which he’d only done twice. Once to buy a house in a non-descript neighborhood just five miles from campus and another time to buy his Nissan GT-R sports car. Unfortunately, these two things set him apart from the rest of the students, but that was only after he’d already made a name for himself as the one person not to mess with on campus.

The incident was one he still regretted because he should’ve remembered his father’s words and stepped away, but he didn’t. He had pride. He was brash. He had yet to be humbled. And he had back-up no one knew about, back-up he wasn’t even supposed to know about.

Duke

It’s a sad day.

There is never a question about Labradors. From the moment they’re born, they love. It’s in their DNA. Yet it’s not a love for themselves, but rather for the one family which shows them just a bit of loyalty and friendship. For that little bit of compassion, they return adoration a hundred fold. Moreover, their lives are never about themselves, but rather about pleasing those around them. They are the most unselfish creatures on this earth and they’ll never know it. This is why we love them.

From the moment we met in the pound, I knew he was the one. He didn’t bark, he didn’t spring about, he didn’t whine behind chain link, but rather sat calmly on his haunches and smiled, his tongue lolling out to the side. At the time, he was the same age as my son, a youngster, yet his demeanor displayed wisdom beyond his years. It was as if he knew we were there to pick him up. He was the chosen one.

When we brought him home he entered a household with two cats, yet there was never an issue. He let them have their domain. He was passive, just happy to have a family that he could love no matter the setting. In time, he became the cat’s protector also, steering away other dogs, cats, and occasional possums. And when the cats passed, he wandered around and wept for them just as we did. He shared our compassion. And we knew he missed them sometimes as he’d look in corners only they would go.

In the summer it was nearly impossible not to play fetch with him as he always seemed to have a ball in his mouth. He’d chase the ball until his heart was about to explode out of his chest, but he’d still bring it back and lay it at my feet wanting more. In the winter he’d keep us warm, lying against our feet by the fireplace. And on any given day, you’d find him lying beside you whether it was watching TV, cooking a meal, surfing the web, or just hanging out. He was never far away and he never faltered.

On those bad days, he’d gently rest his head against my thigh as if to offer his loyal support for whatever hardship I was enduring. And when I finally felt better, his big brown eyes would look up at me and say ‘treat’. In those moments I’d realize it was the simple things in life that makes life worth living and there was nothing in the world I needed to worry about because we were together. Amazingly, he knew this from birth. This was his motto.

As he aged, an old injury slowed his pace a little. His eyes clouded over so he could longer see the ball to chase. His hearing faded also so he had to rely on our other dogs to bark in order for him to know we were home. He lost his appetite, only seeking out the aspirin hidden within the food in his bowl because he knew it made the days pass easier for him. Despite it all he still stood by our sides, standing wobbly on three legs, breathing heavily from the exertion of just climbing to his feet, yet never giving up on trying to please those he cared about.

I am reminded of stories about the loyalty a Labrador will display towards it owner. I believe them all now because it’s just the way they are. It was the way he was. So I will remember him as I want to: swimming every chance we were near water, running around as if there was no tomorrow, and frolicking about with the sun at his back, a ball at his feet, and a grin on his face suggesting ‘more’. He was a happy dog.

He was my loyal friend, my playful companion, and my protector. And though he will be missed, he will be in our hearts forever.

He was Duke. 1998-2013

Azazel is out!!!

Azazel, the 3rd book of the Jeremiah Stone series is available on Amazon and B&N. Pick up a copy today.

http://www.amazon.com/Azazel-Jeremiah-Stone-Novel-ebook/dp/B00BNVJTHA/ref=sr_1_34?ie=UTF8&qid=1362446326&sr=8-34&keywords=Azazel

When a couple months I hope to have the rest of the series (prequels both) out, so look for Beginnings and Ferryman to be coming soon.

What would you do?

In the middle of writing Burden, the next book on my agenda to complete, and already the main character has lied, stolen, and killed in order to gain immortality, but is that enough. Can he stop there even though he grows stronger with every artifact he assembles? That's the question we all probably ask ourselves at one time; can we go just a little further without hurting anyone else? More often than not, we can't.

Of course every situation is different and everyone has different levels of need and self-control. Some of you could probably stop with ease while others, the more desperate of us, would continue on saying 'I can do just a little more and everything will be fine'. Let me tell you, it's never fine unless you have no sense of regret because even if you're not hurting anyone else, you're demoralizing yourself. And in the years to come you'll wonder if it was really worth it.

Now my main character doesn't have months, but rather weeks to reach his goal. He's being chased by an unknown party who seems to have limitless funds and henchmen with lethal intent. But immortality is immortality. It's the dream of many, but truly what is it worth.Is it worth the death of another? I would say not, but I'm not from an impoverished background of brutality, hate, and addiction.My main character is, so he's seen the worst in people, he's endured loss, and he's dealt with pain, physically and mentally.

Knowing this, feeling the anguish and hate from the moment of your birth throughout your entire life, would it matter if a few people got hurt for you to get a step ahead of everyone else? So if you open that dark place within your soul and peer into the blackness which you keep hidden, would you be willing to commit a few sins to rule the world. After all, with the amount of power immortality could bring you it'd be an easy thing to make the world a better place, don't you think?

This is what Drazan had in mind when he first started down this path, but can he really do it and have his soul survive.

ECCC Atendees

For those who might be attending Emerald City Comic Convention (ECCC) and have a copy of Jeremiah Stone. Bring the book along and I'll be happy to sign it. Look for me at the Jeremiah Stone table.

Reviews of Jeremiah Stone

5.0 out of 5 stars - Awesome Story! - By SLeonard "AmazonGoddess"

“…a great read…”

5.0 out of 5 stars - A Novel Cinematically Worthy!!! - By Kathleen Stoner-Melhart

“…immediately captivated…”

5.0 out of 5 stars - Jeremiah Stone is riveting - By Preacher Dude

“…hard to put down…”

5.0 out of 5 stars - Awesome story - By Stephen Adkins

“…high intensity…”

5.0 out of 5 stars - Great read - By Susan H

“…gripping…”

Gruesome - You tell me

A gruesome excerpt from a book I'm writing (unedited):

Now, able to withstand the putrid odor a little better, he leaned in closer. At first his eyes only discerned rotting flesh, but as he focused on the pile further he could pick out skin, muscle, and bone. He could see where some parts were cut with a knife and others with something rougher, like a serrated blade or possibly even a hacksaw. Of course he was no expert, but some of the edges were obviously different. And the longer he stared the more he noticed, like the way the skin was carefully peeled away from the larger muscles only to have the muscle beneath fileted as if creating steaks, though never completely removing the pieces, but rather letting them hang on by a few strands.

Still, as his eyes lingered, he could tell parts of the dissection were amateurish, as if the killer was learning as he went, testing his newfound skills. This caused a chill to run up his spine as his eyes moved from appendage to appendage, incision to incision. And just like that, bit by bit, he was able to ascertain how this woman was drawn and quartered until he finally had to look away in order to retain his sanity.

Then, after a long moment, he turned back to examine the center of the body parts as his eyes finally fell on the woman’s head. The first thing he noticed were the woman’s eyes which bulged out of their sockets unnaturally almost as if they’d been removed then popped back into place, though not fully so. Below her death stare was what was left of her nose, though really it was just two open holes where her nose should’ve been. The rest of her nose wasn’t anywhere near, though it was probably mixed in with the rest of the scattered remains cast about the area. Or it could’ve possible been carried away by some small animal. Either way, he wasn’t looking for it now as he scanned lower reaching her mouth. Though maggots crawled through her cheeks, there were still telltale signs of tearing at the edges of her mouth as if something large had been stuff into it to prevent her from screaming.

Slowly closing his eyes to it all, Granite stood, his head bowed in disgusted sorrow at what this woman must’ve endured.