Well my friends, This has been a difficult year for many of us in fact radically different. Thankfully it seems to be winding down. This has been a time though, when I've had to keep busy or I'd have gone crazy.

Like most of you I've been frozen at home, severe limitations to follow, no friends to visit, paper facial barriers to keep the world at bay and ward off infection. Never, in my young-old life did I think I'd have to recognize people only by their eyes during my lifetime. This proved difficult for me because I have a problem with names and faces. My facial recognition is good, but, I just seem to have trouble with the name attached to it.

During the lock-down, I've been able to finish my debut novel, On The Other Side Of The Mirror, and with the help of, Newman Springs, Publishing. It is now available on, https:www.amazon.com/books/newreleases. It will also be available within the next two weeks on Kindle, E-Books, Barnes and Noble, Walmart and Target. 

My debut novel is a Psychological Thriller. Henry, my protagonist is a paranoid, schizophrenic, serial killer who is controlled and directed by his reflective images. Julia, a fledgling attorney is the object of his misguided affection. We will explore the damaged mind of a killer and follow his manic, dangerous phases until the end. In fact, you may even feel a bit of sorrow for this man.

Henry is standing beside me, What was that? "Oh, okay, Yes, Henry I will...I'll let them know! Calm down Henry, No, put that down. Good man, Okay now, relax."

He wants me to let you read the first couple of paragraphs on this blog.

He tells me I should give you an idea of what lies ahead and convince you to purchase one if not two of this incredible book.

Read on my friend.

                                                         

                                                On The Other Side Of The Mirror 

 

         The rain has been falling without letup for three days; the sound is grating on my last nerve. The rain’s relentless drumming on my home’s metal roof has raised my already-fragile anxiety levels to the breaking point. Each exploding pellet striking the metal feels like a bullet ricocheting through my brain. I squeeze my head to stop the pain, but the pressure cannot drown out the pain. “God, please, release me, please enough, stop this torment.”

            Doctor Maloney, discussed all my triggers with me last month. He told me if I become anxious, depressed, have trouble sleeping, gain weight, or begin crying over nothing. I may be in trouble again, and I will need to call him for an appointment. All of his triggers aren’t there yet, so I guess I don’t need to see him.

Lord, help me, even without all the triggers in place, the thoughts that fill my mind are killing me, unfulfilled thoughts of revenge, dreams of running rivers of blood. Controlling this violence is draining my body of what little energy I still have left. I need relief. I need to find a way to still this agony coursing through my body. I cannot take it anymore; I must release my demons. There must be a way out of this.

Recently, nothing works, I have made way too many trips to my cache of phenobarbital, Thorazine and Xanax; now, each of these bottles is almost empty. What else can I do? Each day, I spiral deeper into my depression. It is so bad that I feel like I’m moving through a white fog of chemicals. I crunch pills as if they’re bitter candy. I drink glasses of water to wash them down my constricting throat.  The literature doesn’t say how many pills one person needs to take to deaden the pain and still feel alive. I wonder why?

            There is no practical guide I can follow to tell me how to eliminate the feelings that drown my soul. Vile feelings that make me think I’m spiraling out of control? I am desperate, desperate to have this negative energy released. The energy I’m afraid I will use to hurt someone. I don’t ever again want to travel down that long dark road again. I’m not sure I’ll find my way back this time. 

            Once was one too many; the only thing that keeps me from ripping through my chemical fog into daylight is the fear that with-out these drugs, I’ll be forced to kill again. God, will I ever get off this treadmill? This is insane: how can I put the cork in the bottles and contain my violence without the pills. But, if I do that, if I put away the bottle, how will I ever control the anger that consumes me?

            It’s no longer enough to hide alone in my room, sitting in the darkness, screaming in rage and frustration at the demons that surround me. Their shadows are soaring around the room, sweeping down, close enough for me to touch them. They have no substance. Their flowing shapes slide through my fingers like a grey mist. No matter what I swallow, sniff, or smoke, pills, alcohol, weed or crack. I'm lost, nothing stops the demons, nothing calms me.

           

                                                                 ***

 

 

If you purchase 'On The Other Side Of The Mirror,' I would appreciate your comments. Let me know on www.themirrorman@yahoo.com

 

Has It Really Been Over A Year?

Wow.  A year and a half since I've posted anything to my Blog.  As with all of us I've been busy, but to skip this...shame on me!

Tragic, all the things I could have shared with you.  But, I'll make up for that today. 

This has been a good year for me.  Made my first dollar and I've had a memoir piece, 'Eddie and Me,' placed in an anthology entitled 'How I Met My Other' published by Orange Blossom Press.  My Drabble piece called the 'Ugurhu' was also published, (Drabble, is flash stuff containing exactly one hundred words,) in an anthology by Alban Lake Publishers about Birding.' A simple piece about this Birder on a forested trail who encounters a lumpy thing on a branch and all goes downhill thereafter.

All in all, I've had fun.  Have sent out the first three chapters of 'The Dead Heart Breaks,' for review and am waiting for a response.  Awful title selection for my poor Phillip.  I've also lost almost all the sections for my poor little psychotic, Henry. 

Put the Flash Drive containing his story in a safe place and promptly forgot where that was.  Have torn the house apart and it still remains hidden.  Maybe the dog ate it!

Sent out a thing about an Space Alien who dies and then comes back this time on earth as a tree.  Now in his new life he only has the sensations of sight and touch...no voice.  Maybe I should see someone?  

Waxing eloquently, as I'm wont to do, "The fabulous mind of most writers couldn't remember where they put their socks if not placed in his/her shoes every night!"


The Writers Group I've been facilitating at the Cooper Memorial Library here in Clermont, Florida has been going well.  Usually between twelve and fifteen writers show up for our bi-monthly two hour meeting.  A large group but we seem to be managing time well.

Ron a member, just had a piece published entitled 'Sew, Sew,' comedic work about mortuary preparation.  He's the fourth of our group to be published since coming.  Sometimes we become so busy we forget to send out things to the wider world, don't we. 

This week we discussed Prefaces.  In this case it was for a poet who is combining his poems into seven chapters with a preface for each.  He wants an initial overview (preface) at the beginning of his book where he can compare music and philosophy into poetry using the Masters in these fields as an example of thought and action.  Clever.

I felt his work was magical but noted it was in triplet form and suggested that he might think of using narrative instead of the verse form to offer a contrast between his poems and the inspiration for his works.

The preface is an important part of each of our works because it sets the stage for the reader.  I'd refer you to the opening portions of 'The Historian' by Elizabeth Kostova, and 'The Edge of the World' by Michael Pye as perfect examples of the use of a preface.

Have to stop...being called to dinner...it will not be another year before you hear from me again.     

Well friends, here we are beginning another year.  I pray this will be a happy, healthy and productive year for everyone

What I've Been Doing

Well, its been a while but at last I am about to send out my second MS to an agent.  For the past few years I haven't been sitting in a comfortable chair, twiddling my fingers, staring at the sun; rather I've been in front of a computer screen.  Fully concentrating on my novel, even though I have to confess it seems like I've progressed in fits and starts .  Now, at last, I see a work that I really want to submit, something I hope others will enjoy as much as I have in writing it.  Especially an agent.

Over the past several years, in order to write, I have had a hand me down computer on my desk.  I endured this recalcitrant machine, until at last it gave up the ghost and died; literally, one keystroke at a time.  The computer would accept one letter then pause before allowing me to strike the next one.  It was so frustrating.  The computer's unwillingness to follow my directions, finally forced me to buy a new one.

She's a beauty, large white plastic encased screen, a keyboard that doesn't do repetitive letters if my fingers don't move quickly enough.  So easy to use and it does so many wonderful things that the one I had been given years ago couldn't do.

Moving on from this difficult time, I feel bad for my poor character, Henry, a psychopathic, serial killer.  I have left him languishing on a pier in a lake on his Orange Grove outside Orlando; just waiting for me to pick him up again.  Henry has to stay there a little longer, while I figure out another ending.  Being eaten by an alligator is so Florida that there has to be another way I can help him leave the scene, perhaps even alive.

While he waits, Phillip, my Vampire and his cohorts, have been busy, growing in strength and vitality while floating in my imagination.  They've been busy loving, living, gorging on others and creating havoc for their small yet continually disintegrating coven.  I am a huge fan of Anne Rice and her 'Vampire Chronicles'.  Like this wonderful author, I have tried to make my characters sympathetic, charismatic and flawed.

As I've said before, Phillip and the others in this novel have absolutely taken me over in the writing.  Not in an unhealthy way.  They flood my consciousness and unconsciousness.  Awake or asleep they talk to me, give me ideas, places, situations, dialogue and their problem resolutions, which then flow through my fingers and onto the screen.  Without my love of words they couldn't exist, so they let me breathe life into them.

Happily, I am progressing through the last review and rewrite, (count them three, plus 1 year of editing and review by others).  Now, I only have the last 50 pages to go over before I can send it off.  Unfortunately, I have during this review, keep picking up flaws and sections that need to be expanded.  So, the work gets longer, but I think better.  I know this is my first book and it probably shouldn't be send out, but as a fairly new writer, I think its important to take the chance that someone will see value and potential in my writing and help me.  Fingers crossed.

I don't want anything more for Christmas than to be accepted by an agent.  If my novel isn't accepted somewhere, Phillip and I will be very upset. My holiday spirit will survive but he and I might drink a little more eggnog than usual during this season.

The writers group I facilitate is still going, 7 years strong.  This group has given me great pleasure, it is wonderful to see writers grow in their craft and seek to publish their own works.  I congratulate all of them.  A poet in the group has been recognized by the library system here, they chose her poem in a contest; she was asked to and then presented it at their annual dinner.

As a result of this dinner and the beauty of her poem, she was asked to participate in a television program describing the process of writing poetry, we are all very proud of her.

Now for my Kindle, I am currently rereading "Alaska" by James Michener.  A truly wonderful book by a great writer and researcher.  It deals with the Native Peoples of Alaska, the founding of Russian settlements along with the growth of Alaska's fur trade.  That is as far as I've gotten, there is much more to go. 

If you haven't reread Michener in a while or never read his works, you might give them a try.  His investigation into and knowledge of different world cultures, the history of places, and an understanding of the human psyche; combined with the scope of his intellect and language are breathtaking.  He was truly a master of the written word.

I also have and can't wait to read a book published in the early nineteenth century, 'The Worst Journey in the world: 1910-1913' by Apsley Cherry-Garrard about his study of penguin eggs and survival in Antarctica as part of Robert Falcon Scott's ill fated expedition.  Using scientific investigation of penguin eggs he wanted to follow their embryonic development in the shell, hoping he could prove an evolutionary link between penguins and reptiles.  Remember, this was the beginning of the second decade of the twentieth century.  His book also covers Scott's expeditions hardships and their struggles in that frozen world. 

Then, I also have 'Thoreau: A Life' by Laura Dassow Walls.  I haven't started it yet but look forward to doing so.

So until next time, I hope we all keep writing, we need our voices and stories to be heard just like the author's I've mentioned in this post.

Happy Holidays to everyone out there, embrace those close to you, pass your joy, love and happiness that lie inside with them.  Also, please share these same sentiments with any strangers who are lucky enough to pass you by everyday. 

Your small act of kindness may be just what that person needs during the holidays.  

    

I write

So my friends. I have to apologize tonight I have deleted two blogs before you could read them. But tonight, I am sitting in my chair as usual. I've turned the television off and am sitting very quietly. The body is still but my mind is in turmoil. I think the best way to confront our today is to ignore it. Let what is to happen, happen. Many of you know that I have been writing for the past year. Mostly imaginary stuff and a little political satire.

Tonight is different. I am alone, I wonder if I were to sit in a cave with noxious gases rising like those poor women in Greece, would I have more than a headache. Would I try to say something profound, something truthful or ambiguous. You know something that would pass the smell test.

There isn't a lot today that passes that.

We have had a terrorist attack again. I say again because I feel that all of the ones questioned lately have Pakistan in mind. Pray God that those who are responsible for our safety understand that we are fragile without stern support.

Anyway I sat in font of the computer the other day and thought. Should I write about my dear character Phillip. I scrolled down through my pages and hit upon a line. 'I saw her skirts billowing above me. They were captured by the frozen sea. Great spiraling circles of fabric, slowing her progress, drawing my beloved ever closer towards me. Her hair, a crown of threads spread out, following her as she floating, each strand standing apart, with a life of its own. My beauty a symphony of harmonics, Beneath in the blackness I saw and heard. The parts calling, inflaming my passion. The sea moved but I did not hear, She interrupted the ebb and flow. She displaced the natural resonance. There was no one to hear the change, but I did and I hungered.'

Then I heard the sound, low pitched, silvery. Musical notes glancing off shards of water coalescing then swelling. Great flats and sharps, the pipes began to cry and then began the march. Note after note leading me on. I rushed towards her, my feet beating a tattoo. and then the sun began the cadence and then the bells replaced themShe fell into my arms and I was Pleased this was someone I could love

Read Your MS

It has again been a while since I last wrote anything on my blog. It isn't for a lack of things to say, but merely the reality that I keep forgetting how to get into the blog to write. Thanks to my sister for creating a counter on Thursday for me as of today I've had 32 hits since then. Now that could be one person 32 times or two people 16 times so on and so on...But thanks if you are the one person or two people, thank you for taking the time to check.

I have been kept busy writing. I'm continuing to edit my Vampire story and have noticed that I never described my main character, Agnes(shocking). So I think that I may have added a little more flesh to her bones(so to speak).

Rewriting has given me an opportunity to flesh out other characters and situations as well. While writing my MS I have reread or read my story to the group for critique. I listen for the cadence. By reading aloud you can hear the spoken word but you may lose or not recognize flaws in content. You can so lost in the flow of words that you can't see or hear opportunities to simplify complex language structure or situations in which your characters may find themselves. That is why reading from the written page by the author is so important. If you don't become bored, as I've become at times, you may catch your weaknesses.

I should do as I say, of course my yellow pen has only traveled 100 pages in my MS so far. But at the end of the day when I'm finished(I usually write or rewrite for three to five hours, or more if I'm in the mood. I am then ready to put my characters to bed for the night.

I'd like to say hello to Laura and David. They were two very vocal members of our writing groups and they are sorely missed. Florida's loss is Texas' gain. It would be nice though if they could have remained with us.

My bedside table now has two new books on it. I finished Drood by Dan Simmons. It is a tremendous story and very absorbing. It describes the relationship between two authors in the mid 19th century. Good story, believable characters and a lot of twists, turns and surprises.

I am now reading a book published in 1997, Drums of Autumn written by Diana Gabaldon. I have thoroughly enjoyed her stories regarding regarding the trials and tribulations of Claire and Jamie Fraser.

The second book is Assegai by Wilbur Smith published May, 2009, set in 1913 per World War Africa. I am looking forward to starting this, I'm familiar with and enjoyed other books by Mr. Smith.

Well I am going to close for now. I think I'll return to this blog in a few days. Thanks everyone.

Rejection by E-mail

Well I'm back, fire ant scars and all. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday with their friends and families. I was fortunate enough to be able to share mine with long time friends from Maryland and Orlando. The meal was fantastic. Lamb, ham and all the other goodies. Thanks Andrea.

Met a fabulous singer there who is appearing at Beluga's jam sessions in Winter Park. She has a great throaty voice, wonderful mezzo, and sings blues and jazz. Her name is Miss Jacqueline Jones check her out you won't be disappointed.

I have had the most wonderful experience for a writer. Last week I received my first rejection e-mail from an agent I had submitted my work to. The reason why I believe it was a good experience for me is that it forced me to take a closer look at the manuscript I'd sent. She was very kind in her note and I thank her for that. It is unfortunate that I wasted a great opportunity by sending an MS that wasn't ready.

I would like to focus on some of the things I discovered. I am a type A personality. You know who we are. The person, who is cocky, sure of themselves and often pushy. The type of person who never doubts for a moment that they will succeed at whatever they put their hand to.

I sat down the other day in a very comfortable chair with my yellow pen. Opening the MS I began. Reading the page, my finger moving along each line, my mouth sounding out the words for my ear. I was horrified by what I saw. The language was so flowery at times I thought I needed a vase. Then I began cutting out things. First the flowery phrases had to go. I then turned to redundant phrases. How many ways are there to say the sky was beautiful or someone is upset.

According to my manuscript many, many ways. I covered thirty pages that afternoon and whittled it down to fifteen pages. No wonder it was rejected. I had duplicated people, events and explained relationships and characters reactions over and over again.

I though that my work product was the number of words I produced or how many hours I sat at the computer, but I've learned something I'd forgotten. The main reason I write is because I not only love the work but also because I want to send out a wonderful story. So I will continue to read and strike out phrases and rewrite until I truly feel it is ready for the readers who will open the cover in anticipation of a good story.

Perhaps I will devote the next blog to one of my short stories. Let me know if you would like to read something I've written. But for now I am going to have a drink. It's been a long day.