Category Archives: NOVEL WRITING

February 25, 2020 · 4:12 pm

AeroQuest 3… Canto 80

Canto 80 – Jungle Darkness and Damnthings (The Green Thread)

Running and sweating in the jungle darkness had begun to get very old.

“Climb a tree!” ordered King, pounding down the jungle path behind Hooey and Culver.  The damnthing, a huge, smelly pig-dog sort of predator, was close on their heels and all three men were beginning to tire.

A large, gnarled tree loomed straight ahead.  King leaped and caught its lower branches, swinging himself up into the lower branches like Johnny Weissmuller playing Tarzan on steroids.  Dr. Hooey imitated him to the very best of his ability, meaning he was as graceful as a hundred pounds of chopped liver being flung through the air by a baboon that had drunk three too many cups of coffee.  The good doctor managed to lodge himself on a branch just above the apex of the damnthing’s leap, though he was hanging upside down by one knee hooked over the branch.

“Help me!  I’m the expendable one!” cried Willie Culver as he missed the branches and tumbled butt first into the undergrowth.

“Dang it!” swore King Killer, “I told you that we were ALL going to make it!”  He leaped down from the branch that held him directly in front of Willie Culver.  “You do not have permission to die right now!” he swore.

            Unfortunately, directly behind King, the snorting damnthing lumbered up and came to a gum-gnashing, teeth-grinding halt so close that its spittle ran down into the back of King’s collar.

            “Oh, Gawd…” prayed Willie.  The pale expendable sidekick scrambled out from under King and used his fingernails to claw his way up the side of a foul-smelling babuti tree.  Babutis were an exotic form of alien tree that existed on several jungle planets which sprouted gorgeous orange and yellow flowers, but smelled so bad they made your eyes water like raging rivers.  The damnthing moved first to grab Willie, but the smell wrinkled its big pignose and resulted in the damnthing turning its attention to the Corsair King of Killing.

King, partly frozen in place by the vague hope that the thing’s vision was based on movement like he’d seen in an ancient Earther video about a dinosaur park, and partly winding up his interior springs for the leap of his life, slowly turned his head to stare right down the slavering gullet of the huge, nasty pig-dog thingy. 

“King, old buddy, you can’t die here either, you know,” admonished Hooey from his upside-down perch.

“I’m working on it,” said King.  His legs were taut with stored energy, ready to leap.  He vaulted forward at the same instant that the damnthing struck with its big-piggy chompers.  The beast growled.  King screamed.  Big pig teeth pierced the flesh of his shoulder.

“Aaargh!”

“Oh, no!”

“King!  My gawd!”

Just as it seemed that the damnthing would devour the King, a sudden flesh-colored flash came blazing out of the canopy on a sort of bungee vine.  It was a relatively small boy wearing nothing but some furry animal skins tied around his delicate parts.  He grabbed on to King with a grip of steel, and then the bungee pulled them both back up into the canopy, ripping King’s flesh out of the very mouth of death and dismemberment.

            The damnthing, stunned in its piggy surprise, blinked twice, and abruptly walked away into the jungle.

“What was that?” asked Willie, clinging to the bark of his smelly tree.

“That would have to be Randy the Jungle Boy,” said Hooey, without missing a beat.  “He’s not the only weird character we are about to meet in this jungle.”

“You knew what was going to happen?”

“Well, some of it.  I read about it in Googol Marou’s book, which I read in the future.  Of course, the timeline has been altered again, so I can’t predict anything with certainty.”

“Why?  What’s changed?”

“You were supposed to be the pig-dog’s lunch.  So, I guess you have to write your own destiny from here on, Willie Culver.”

Willie’s eyes grew round with sudden fearful gratitude to King Killer.  And it would only take another chapter or two for his heart to actually start beating again.

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, science fiction

Tagged as

February 22, 2020 · 7:56 pm

Faun Art

I have begun work on a new novel called A Field Guide to Fauns. In it, I will make use of one of the most central metaphors in all of my art and writing. The mythological figure of the faun is usually portrayed as a young boy or youth, nude, and potentially having goat horns, goat legs, a deer’s tail, and/or pointed ears. It represents sensuality, connections to nature, and a willingness to partake in enjoyments without hiding anything.

Fauns were defined in art long before I came along. The Marble Faun was a book by Nathaniel Hawthorne that I read in college. I looked endlessly in libraries after that for pictures of Praxiteles’s masterpiece from all angles. I would eventually be inspired to make the picture above by a picture made in print by Maxfield Parrish printed in Collier’s Magazine. I have been fascinated for years by fauns. And I began drawing them repeatedly.

As a teenager, I had a faun as an imaginary friend. His name was Radasha. He made it his business to lecture me about sex and nudity, morals, religion, and what was wrong with me. At the time I was repressing the memory of being the victim of a sexual assault, a very painful and traumatic experience that I did not allow myself to remember and admit was real until I was twenty-two. Radasha turned out to be a coping method who helped me heal, and helped me realize that just because it was a homosexual assault, that did not make me a homosexual.

Fauns would come to dominate my artwork through the eighties. I drew Radasha multiple times. I would use the image to express things I feared and fought with and won victories over .

I would come to learn that there were fauns in real life to be found. The portrait above is of Fernando, a favorite student from my first two years as a teacher. He is portrayed as a faun. The cardinal on his shoulder is a symbol of courage and endurance, a bright red bird that never flies away when the winter comes.

Devon Martinez is the main character of my novel in progress. He is an artist like I am. He is fifteen at the time of the novel, and faced with living the rest of his childhood in a nudist community. He doesn’t consider himself a faun to begin with. But that changes during the course of the novel.

Here is the first illustration done for the novel. It is supposed to be a picture drawn by Devon himself.

So, as always with Saturday artwork, there is more to come.

Leave a comment

Filed under artwork, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

February 17, 2020 · 8:31 pm

Some Small Success

I was able to run my most successful book promotion so far by giving away free e-book copies of my newest novel, The Boy… Forever.

So, unlike in the past, I now have copies of my book in the hands of possible readers.

Some will actually read it.

And I also re-published Magical Miss Morgan as an Amazon Kindle and paperback, now out from under the onus of Page Publishing’s money-grubbing publishing con.

They actually expected me to pay more money than I was getting in royalties every two years to keep my book in print.

I now have more complete control over pricing, royalties, and promotions than I ever have with this, my second contest novel, also a finalist for the Rosetti Award for YA fiction.

I will try running a free promotion with it next month… in March.

I currently have fourteen books in print. In time order by setting they are;

Superchicken

Recipes for Gingerbread Children

The Baby Werewolf

The Boy… Forever

When the Captain Came Calling

Snow Babies

Sing Sad Songs

Fools and Their Toys

Magical Miss Morgan

Catch a Falling Star

The Bicycle-Wheel Genius

Stardusters and Space Lizards

AeroQuest 1 : Stars and Stones

AeroQuest 2 : Planet of the White Spider

And coming soon ; AeroQuest 3 : Juggling Planets

Here I hold in my hands the first printed copies of my two newest novels in print.

Slowly but surely I am building my legacy in fiction. And I am increasingly proud of the quality of work I have achieved. I may, in fact, live long enough to see some popularity for my works. It seems, so far, that everyone who reads one of my books, really likes it a lot.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, novel, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, publishing

Tagged as

February 11, 2020 · 5:14 pm

AeroQuest 3… Nocturne 6

Nocturne 6 – Highly Heated Moments (The White Thread)

Rocket Rogers and Phoenix walked together towards the community baths in the Palace of 1,000 Years.  Not far behind them walked Friashqazatla, better known to all as Freddy due to pronunciations and the intricacies of the Zaranian language.

“You do know that he’s following you and not me,” said Phoenix.  “It’s you he seems to be queer for.”

Rocket looked at his literally hot-headed friend with a sense of embarrassment.  He didn’t know what to do about Freddy’s apparent hero-worship.

“Hey, Dog-Boy.  If you’re going to follow us around like a puppy, you might as well be one.  Didn’t Ged-sensei teach you how to transform?”  Phoenix could be needlessly cruel it seemed.

Freddy looked at them with sapphire eyes.  Then he stripped off his blue jumper and his blue turban, transforming into the black wolf as he did so.

“Good boy!” said Phoenix.  He signaled to the black wolf to come to their side, possibly to pet him.  But when Freddy padded up within reach, he used his pointer finger to set the wolf’s tail on fire.

Freddy immediately changed back to his dark-skinned humanoid form, putting the fire out before being burned by making all the flammable fur go away.

“That was mean,” said Freddy, sitting on the wet floor of the bath house naked.

“Why do you have to follow us?” asked Phoenix hotly.

“Well, um… I like Rocket and want to be his friend.”

“He’s already got me for a friend.”

Then both of them looked directly at Rocket.  He blushed a bit.  “Yeah, um…  I think I may have room for more than one friend.”

“Suit yourself.”  Phoenix dropped his black kimono and proceeded nude to the bathing pool currently occupied by Taffy King and little Mai Ling.

“If you’re willing to risk it, you can bathe with us,” offered Rocket.  “But I’m not gay, if you were wondering.”

“That’s good.  Me neither.  I just want to be your friend.”

Rocket dropped everything but his cowboy hat, helped Freddy up, and together they went over to the same pool and slipped into the water.  Phoenix had already used his Psionic powers to heat the water to a level barely able to be tolerated by humanoids.

“Do you always have to make it so hot?” complained Taffy.  Rocket liked being around her when she was nude.  She was not human in the way he was, but only her saurian eyes made her noticeably different than him.

“If you don’t like it, you can always get out,” said Phoenix with an evil grin.

Rocket quietly lowered the water temperature a little, not quite enough for Phoenix to notice, but enough to protect Freddy and the girls from being broiled like cooked lobsters in a pot.

The warm water was actually soothing on sore muscles after the rigorous workout they had been doing under Ged-sensei’s direction.

“So, Taffy, what are you gonna do for a boyfriend now that Alec has found a new squeeze?” asked Phoenix with a suggestive leer.

“Alec was never my boyfriend.  Just like you will never be.  But I am still open to other options.  Boys who aren’t so mean and evil, I mean.”  Taffy smiled at Rocket.

“Well, I like that,” muttered Phoenix as he apparently made the water even hotter.

“How do you do that?” Mai Ling asked Phoenix.  “I really like hot water for baths.”

“Really?  How hot?”

“Phoenix!  Don’t you dare!”  Taffy glared at him with green lizard eyes.

“Would you like to see how hot you can stand it?” Phoenix offered, sounding a bit more sincere than usual.

“I really would,” said the little girl.  “But maybe in another pool?  And don’t cook me, please.”

Phoenix shrugged.  He and Mai Ling got out and walked to another pool.

“Remember, Phoenix.  She’s a very good shot and is useful in combat!” Rocket shouted.

“Don’t worry, Rocket.  I might be in the market for more than one friend too.”

As soon as Rocket turned back around in the pool, Taffy planted a kiss right on his lips.

“Mmmph!  Ah… what exactly was that for?”

“How would you like to be my boyfriend?” Taffy asked point blank.  Then she kissed him again.  Longer.  And he didn’t mind at all.  But when they finally came up for air, Freddy was looking at them both with an embarrassed grin on his face.

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, science fiction

Tagged as

February 9, 2020 · 10:16 pm

Talking to Nobody

I entered the classroom silently. Death doesn’t have to make any sound when it enters a room, but I remember many times when I entered a classroom in a fully enraged-lion roar. Probably too many times.

This time it was a small lesson to a small class. Little Mickey, ten years old, was sitting there in a front-row desk. He was wearing that stupid purple derby hat that he always wore in his imagination. And he was wearing nothing else besides.

I gave him that old death-eye stare of disapproval. He grinned and shrugged. “Hey, I like to write about nudists, okay? They tell the truth more than most people.”

I simply nodded.

Sitting the next row over, in the front seat also, middle-aged Mickey was slumped in his seat like the cynical, world-weary teacher-thing he actually was. I nodded disapprovingly at him too. “I know, I know,” he said. “My time is running out. I have to get started on my writing plan for real this time. My stories will never get written if I don’t.”

The third seat in the third row contained Old Coot Mickey with his wrinkled clothes, his long Gandalf-hair, and his frizzy author’s beard. He grinned his goofy grin at me and nodded at me cheekily. “I’ve got fourteen novels written and published now. Taint my fault that nobody ever reads ’em. They are mostly good stories, too.”

I rolled my eyes at the dark ceiling.

On the chalkboard I wrote out. Today’s Lesson Is…

“I know! I know!” shouted little Mickey, naked except for his purple hat. “The next novel is A Field Guide to Fauns. It is all about nudists in a nudist camp. I am definitely down with that!”

“Is that really a good idea, though?” asked middle-aged Mickey. “I think I was meant to be a writer of Young Adult novels, like the ones I taught so often in class. I know how those books are structured. I know their themes and development inside and out. I know how to write that stuff.”

“But the little naked guy has it right. You have ta be truthful in novels, even as you tell your danged lies.” Old Coot Mickey made his point by punctuating it with a wrinkled hand thumping on the top of his desk. “You have written novels with characters forcing other characters to make porn films in The Baby Werewolf, and sexual assault of a child in Fools and Their Toys, and lots of naked folks, and betrayal and death… All of that is the kinda stuff kids really want ta read. And them stories don’t glorify that stuff neither. Stories can help fight agin that stuff.”

“Remember, that stuff is hard to write about because I actually went through some of that stuff in my own life. It’s possible for even a fiction book to be just too real for a YA novel.” Middle-aged Mickey had entered fighting mode with his fists on his hips.

“But the underlying truth is why you had to write those stories to begin with. You have truth to tell… But in fiction form,” argued little Mickey.

“And horrible experiences turn into beautiful survival stories and heroes’ journeys with time and thoughtfulness and art,” said Old Coot Mickey.

I agreed with all three of me. I nodded and smiled.

“But you are Death, aren’t you?” asked middle-aged Mickey.

“And you’ve come to take away at least Old Coot Mickey!” declared little Mickey.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” I answered all three of me. “I am not Death. I am Nobody.“

Leave a comment

Filed under autobiography, homely art, horror writing, humor, irony, kids, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life

February 4, 2020 · 6:47 pm

AeroQuest 3… Canto 78

Canto 78– Doom Looms (The Goofy Gray Thread)

Now, you probably remember that Trav Dalgoda was sitting up in orbit around the planet Farwind on the ship he now commanded with lots of toys to play with.  He had particle beam weapons and ion weapons that could reach the planet from space.  You can probably imagine he was in Goof Heaven and everyone else under his command had to be in Nervous Hell.

“Don’t you want to stop playing with those red buttons, Trav?” asked Dana Cole sweetly.

“Oh, I love these weapons.  I haven’t played with things like this since that gigantic forest fire on the planet Samothrace.  You could see that one burning from space, I’ll tell you what.”

“Still, you know, there are other things to do besides constantly targeting different things that are visible on the planet.”

“Yeah, I know.  But… what, for instance?”

“Well… I. uh…”

“You know, you look pretty in that uniform.”

“Thank you, Trav.  I’m so glad you finally noticed.”

“Oh, I always notice you.  You are one hot hoochie mama!”

Dana frowned.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I really like you.  In fact, I think I’m gonna need you with me always.  Hey, I can get an unobstructed target lock on the industrial complex at Cyber City!  Cool deal!”

Dana nervously undid the jacket buttons of her uniform.  She had nothing on underneath, and the full glory of her cleavage and her navel were revealed.  Her hands were actually shaking.  This seduction might be needed to save lives.

“Notice anything else about my uniform, sailor boy?”

“Yeah, Little Jester, your front came undone.  Better button up so that you won’t be out of uniform.”

Dana’s jaw set grimly.  Some forms of stupidity are too immense to be believable.  Never-the-less, no matter how exaggerated it may seem, there is almost always an example somewhere of every kind of idiot behavior.

“Did you notice how I had your ancient artifact set up on the bridge?”  Dana pointed at the evil coffee machine where it was percolating with eerie green lights in the middle of the bridge.  The other bridge officers walked around it as if it were a sleeping baby, an excessively evil sleeping baby.  Tiptoes were almost not enough.

“Ah, yes, my beautiful Tesserah!  I love the way it gleams and smells like napalm in the morning.”

“Maybe you should examine it more closely.  It’s been thirty minutes since you looked at it last.”

Trav’s grin was maniacal.  He strode over to the pulsing artifact.  He put both hands on it.  “Ah, has oo missed yer daddy?  I wuv oo, yes, I do.”

The behavior made Dana almost sick to her stomach.  As he petted the thing and nearly made love to it, she couldn’t help but think this was the worst assignment she had ever drawn from the evil creepers of Expedition One.

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, satire, science fiction

Tagged as ,

January 28, 2020 · 7:07 pm

AeroQuest 3… Canto 77

Canto 77– Dome Invasion (The Blood-Red Thread)

The arc-welder burned a gaping hole through the lowest level of the underwater dome on Farwind.  Water began gushing in before the trooper had finished cutting the hole.

“Won’t this flood the dome?” Ferrari asked through the metal commo dot attached inside his underwater helmet.  “Shouldn’t we be finding another way inside?”

“Don’t worry, Commander,” said a trooper in his yellow and blue battle armor, “We will only flood the ground floor to the level of our waists.  We’ve successfully done this operation before.”

“Before?  You’ve invaded this dome before?”

“Yes, during the last insurrection.  It isn’t our fault the civilian government couldn’t hold out against Brona Tang.”

The trooper’s words inspired absolutely no confidence in any of us.  We were in this thing way over our heads, and I don’t mean just because we were at the bottom of the sea.

As water rushed inside the dome, the gaping hole was suddenly big enough for armored men to walk through.  This we did, single file.  The Commander led the way, followed by Duke Ferrari, Ham Aero, six troopers, and then me.  The rest of the troops were guarding the rear.

Inside the dome, water was gushing like a series of water-park fountains splashing amok. It looked to me like the water really could rush in and fill the entire dome.

The Commander took off the helmet he wore and pitched it aside.  “Tac-Officer!  Give me a readout on the enemy positions.  Do they have a scan-lock on us yet?”

The man in the suit with all the wires and antennas took off his helmet and began studying a monitor that popped out of his armored chest-plate.

Ferrari stepped forward to consult.  “Commander, I think we should find the control room and try to capture this place from its top.”

“You are not a military man.  Leave this to us,” snapped the Commander.

“Uh, sir…”  The Tac-Officer was pale.  “We have a problem.”

The Commander frowned at him.  He opened his mouth to say something cruel in the way commanding officers usually do when they hear things they don’t like.  Suddenly, we heard ominous sounds all around us.  Guns were being cocked and plasma weapons began to hum.  Above us, a ring of troopers in black combat armor stood up, training at least a hundred different weapons on our exposed position.

“Does this seem bad to you?” I asked Ham. 

Ham had just taken off his diving helmet and now he smiled at the deadly arsenal arrayed against us.  “This comes under the general heading of not good, yes.”  I noticed he was strikingly handsome when he smiled.

“You gentlemen must surrender immediately,” said one of the black figures surrounding us.  “We have orders to kill you all and leave no member of your group alive.”

“It is troublesome how the military mind usually works,” I said.  “I suppose this is the end for me.”

“Yes…” said Ham, no longer smiling.  “This is not good at all!”

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, science fiction, self portrait

Tagged as

January 14, 2020 · 5:49 pm

AeroQuest 3… Canto 75

Canto 75 – The Music and the Gunfighter

     Arkin Cloudstalker and his friend Lazerstone walked into the starport center in the planet known as Ibiguy.  This stop on their journey had been a necessity brought on by lack of supplies and fuel aboard the little scout ship they now flew.  It was only one small needle-like wedge of mechanical parts to use in the quest to puncture holes in the fabric of space and re-unite Cloudstalker with his Lady Knights.

     Swirls of orange dust flew about the grand concourse in this starport.  It was a parched and cracked desert world, this Ibiguy.  It was one small discordant note in the symphony of space and time.  It was also a hardship to travelers.  There was no water and little hydrogen in this system to use as fuel for starships.  It had to be purchased at the starport in order to move along to the next stanza in their travels through the star lanes.

     Many alien eyes pondered the odd pair as they walked through the starport.  Birdlike aliens, wedge-headed aliens, oceanic aliens wearing suits filled with salty water, and star-fish shaped aliens known as Sparkies.  This world, rarely used by Galtorr Imperials, had become a haven to those who were persecuted, especially those known as Un-Humans because their make-up was not humanoid.  Freaks, too, who had slipped away from their forced servitude, found sanctuary in this place.  For obvious reasons, the starport had only planet-bound elements, a downport.  There was no space station or space port in the system.

     “I don’t understand,” said Arkin, inclining his cowboy-hatted head towards Lazerstone, “why are they watching us?”

     “I sense anticipation.  Their pulse and surge rates are all slightly elevated, indicating anxiety of some sort.”

     “Yes, I feel it.  Can you tell what might be causing it?”

     “Is there an angry cyborg in your past?”

     “What?”  Arkin’s eyes grew round and fearful.

     “There is a being re-animated with artificial energy flows behind us.  He is seventy-two per cent metallic and eight per cent polymer.  He has been trailing us since we passed through the first security gate.”

     “It’s Ace Campfield.”  Arkin tried to pretend that the music of the universe was not pounding out an eerie tuba score that made the heart rate climb dramatically.

     “We know he’s there,” cautioned Lazerstone.  “I can see him even when he’s hiding because I don’t rely on eyes to see.  It gives us a tactical advantage.”

     “Tactical advantage?”

     “I can’t read minds, but I know he’s got a small plasma weapon that he is firing up for use.  We can attack first.”

     Arkin began to sweat profusely.  He only narrowly escaped the bounty-hunting Mechanoid the last time.  This would have to be a fatal confrontation, one way or another.

     “He’s hideous in a way,” commented Lazerstone.  “He is a creature who’s not fully alive and certainly not dead.  His cold heart seems to be without feeling.”

     “You’re going to say it again, aren’t you?”

     “What?  Fascinating?”

     “Yes, that.  You got it from ancient holovids, didn’t you Mr. Vulcan?”

     “Yes.  It’s a good word.  But I am not Spock.”

     “Fascinating.”

     Arkin pulled his gauss pistol and dove to the right.  Lazerstone dove to the left.  They both rolled and came up pointing their weapons at a surprised Ace Campfield.

     “What?  You will shoot me with those things?  A speedy slug thrower and a finger?”

     “Yes,” said Arkin, pulling the trigger.  The gauss pistol launched its accelerated slug at mach 4 and Lazerstone simultaneously launched crystal shards from the end of his finger.  The slug tore through Ace’s cranium, breaking circuitry and slagging connections.  The crystal shards flew past the rotted head and plunged into the ground in five places.

     The face of Ace Campfield wrinkled upwards into a skeletal grin of pure mockery.  “Didn’t feel a thing!”  He raised his plasma handgun to point it at Arkin’s white face.

     Out of the ground surrounding Campfield, five crystal arms rose out of the dirt like a scene from a George Romero movie.  Each grabbed the bounty-hunter, pulling at him from a different direction.

     “What the…?”

     Ace’s arms and legs splintered as the five new Lazerstones stood up, rending him limb from limb.

     “Curse you, you alien scum!” cried the limbless torso that was previously Ace Campfield.

     “Sorry there were only five of us to answer the call,” said Lazerstone, “but there’s a limited amount of harmonic quartz on this planet.”

     Arkin smiled and nodded at his friend.  “Fascinating!”

Leave a comment

Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, science fiction

Tagged as

January 9, 2020 · 9:48 pm

Editing, Revising, and Re-writing

My new novel, finished the first time the day before yesterday, is not what writers call a rough draft. My writing process consists of doing rough draft, revision, and proofreading chapter by chapter. Or, as I call them, canto by canto.

It was written following an outline that existed first in my imagination as it was played out like a television show, dreamed up episode by episode knowing what would ultimately happen by the end of the story.

So, the process about to begin is not a second draft. It is not a revision-step either, though minor revisions may happen in the final pass before publishing. It is merely a final proofread where the story is reread as a whole, and given necessary corrections of typos and boo-boos. As a writing teacher, I have seen too many young writers skip this final, critical step. They don’t go back and read the whole thing as one piece of writing, stepping back far enough to view the work of art as a whole. How can any good writer only read the thing through as he or she writes it and figure it is good enough as it is? It may be that, but it is probably not.

Adjustments will occur for me because this new novel uses characters from a series of novels in which time passes and people change. Those adjustments are what you can safely call revisions. The character of Milt Morgan is appearing in the novel as a narrator. He has appeared in the story cycle three times now, in three different novels, and this is the first time he is ever used as a first-person narrator. He has changed and grown up a bit from novel to novel. This time he is no longer a virgin. He has freed himself from the cycle of abuse that he and his older sister both endured from alcoholic parents. He has a deeper understanding now of what magic really means and what meaning it gives to his life to call himself a wizard. But he has yet to come to terms with how lying and fantasizing about life can lead to consequences. That part of his future story will be tackled in another story that is a novel in my head, but not yet written out in novel form. That is a future writing project called The Wizard in His Keep. So, I must check this novel to be sure that all the pistons in the engine of his personal story arc firing properly in this book to ensure that it carries him forward into that new adult character he must later become. Those pistons in the engine are what revision is really all about.

Characters will die in this novel, as they do in almost every novel I write. Usually at least one bad guy, and one good guy. Of course, the doomed ones are not fated to change in this book. The story is set. I won’t be surprised by a death in this story the way I was with Snow Babies, and The Bicycle-Wheel-Genius. Of course, this story is about Immortals, and it is possible that a character dies in this book who doesn’t stay dead.

The final pass through The Boy… Forever will not be a rewrite either. Rewriting is what I am doing to AeroQuest where whole chapters (cantos) are added and left out, New characters are created. Old ones are deleted. And the plot changes in how the details come together. And though the main plot points remain, spread over four books instead of one, they are reorganized and better fleshed out.

That book is becoming books. The original and the rewritten are quite different from each other. For one thing, the new versions will make use of my cartooning skill and allow the books to be far more illustration-filled. Rewriting is a total do-over.

So, my baby book is still not quite ready to be born. But it is a complete book. Only the messy business of giving birth remains.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, magic, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, publishing

Tagged as ,

January 7, 2020 · 4:28 pm

AeroQuest 3… Canto 74

Canto 74 – Jungle Jingles (The Green Thread)

The planet Stanley was beautiful in a primitive sort of way, but covered with an endless, nearly unbroken jungle on its entire land surface.  Strange reptilian birds fluttered through stifling, pollen-saturated air.  Primitive Lemurians called out from height to height in the tops of the jungle canopy.  Their simian cries spoke of fear and death and loneliness, the need of the semi-intelligent to cling to each other in the face of the predatory jungle darkness.

The pinnace rode upward on a pillar of repulsor force, using magnetic pulses to push away from the planet’s wild green surface.  King Killer, Dr. Hooey, and Willie Culver watched it go with grim faces.  Marooned on a jungle planet full of unknown creatures that hunt all that lives and breathes.

“What will we do now?” asked Willie.

“We’ll be fine,” assured Hooey.  “What Admiral Tang doesn’t know is that I’ve already read how this turns out.  There is an Ancient archaeological site in the southern hemisphere that contains an Ancient artifact known to the Time Knights as a “transmat”.  It turns anything that steps onto it into a tachyon stream that can physically transport anyone or any physical thing to any other time and place in the galaxy that has another transmat.”

“What are you saying?” said King.  “You are planning to scramble our molecules and send them on a particle beam across space?  You really know how to do this?  You’ve done it before?”

“Well… no.  I’ve never done it before.  But the book says I will figure it out in time to save us from certain death.  You and I will be fine, King.”

“What about me?” asked Willie.  “Do I make it out too?”

“Well,” said Hooey, “you’re kinda the one-episode character.  The kind the writer sends along on the mission to allow for a terrible death without killing off a main character.”

“What!  I’m gonna die?  AAARGH!”

“Don’t panic yet,” said King.  “We are quite capable of surviving this.  All of us.”

“Yes, quite,” said Hooey, “now we need to head for the archeological site.”

“Is it close by?” asked Willie.

“About eight hundred kilometers to the south.”

“Good Lord!” growled King.  “You aren’t making this any easier, are you?”

“What do you mean?” said Hooey.  “I just have to follow the right timeline.  I didn’t choose any of this.”

At about that moment something large gave them a glimpse of itself in the undergrowth.  It was the creature soon to be known as the Stanley Damnthing.  It was a large porcine predator with ears like an elephant, a mouth like a toothy wolverine, and the overall body shape of a ten-ton hog.

“Oh, gawd!” sighed Willie.  “That thing is hunting us, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”  King looked grimmer than his usual grim.

“It won’t be able to catch all of us, though,” reassured Hooey with an eerie smile.

Willie Culver wet himself.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as