3rd book is on the way...

...very soon! In my last post, I was looking for a different publisher for my then completed 3rd book 'broken will always be broken'. Well, I found one. A company called YouCaxton. Not only are they much cheaper but the initial correspondence was very welcoming and open. But, because I have not used this company before and the way they work is different to my previous publisher, I have decided to leave 'broken will always be broken' and instead publish 'Words to be performed from under a table by the last of us'. I have done this because 'broken will always be broken' is extremely special to me and, in my opinion, probably the best thing I have written.

So, 'Words to be performed from under a table by the last of us' is the next book to be coming out (the proof copy is in the post on its way to me as I type this) within the next month or so...fingers crossed. In the time line of my first two already self-published books, this will sit as book number four...'broken will always be broken' is three in the time line. I will then look at publishing 'broken will always be broken' towards the start of next year thus completing the four book opus.

In the meantime, I have started a 5th book with the working title 'Bimble in Crinklewood'. This will focus on 12 very distinct characters (and the narrator/lead character) who make up this town of Crinklewood our lead character finds himself in. It will pull in elements from the revenge/ye olde speaking story I spoke about in my last post with each character being loosely based on someone I know or have come across in my life. It will also bring in pieces of the relevant notion of the number 12 throughout history. It also marks a slight first for me as not only am I attempting to write an honest to god book/story with an original story outside of my own experiences and I have approached it differently by using post it notes and research methods online.

Exciting times ahead indeed.     

Searching for a suitable...

...self-publisher has become my task for March. As I said in my previous blog, what I want for my 3rd book is beyond what my previous publisher can do at a reasonable price. So, today I have sent out questions and queries to several other publishers with hopes of finding a suitable one...and already, I have had responses and am very hopeful. Of course, that doesn't mean I have stopped writing...oh no, I am now working on book 4 and 5 simultaneously!

Book 4 is a revenge story written in two distinct styles. Style one is told from the thoughts and speech of the main character and is all ye olde english. Lots of "thou" "thy" and "nary" involved. Style two is told from the actions of everything else around the main character and is very blunt and short. The thinking in me going down that route is to extenuate the simplicity of what is happening outside of the main character whilst at the same time show his own madness and thought patterns crammed with metaphors.

Book 5 is actually a coming together of two poetry projects I have completed (one about words and the other which has sketches, poetry and observations in) and writing a third section to bring them all together. This is called "Words to be performed from under a table by the last of us". 'Words' is literally about words. What we use them for, how they are used and the context in which they are used as conceived by the main character. 'To be performed from under a table' is a collection of observations about the state of the world we live in and how the main character views it. 'By the last of us' has the main character wandering hell after taking his own life and attempting to make sense of everything. So, a lot going on at the moment! And some poetry below from my 5th book!

The Open Book

My spine has been broken,

pages of my story ripped apart,

words inside dead and stolen,

ink now bleeds from my heart.

Scattered about at my feet

commas and full stops die,

turned to ash in this heat,

not much left but a decry.

The open book sliced in two,

scissor writing pouring out,

letters begin to fade and undo,

losing what it was all about.

A wind disperses what is left,

forever gone in the night,

this all amounts to a simple theft,

and the end to an unwinnable fight.

 

The Suffer of Rain

Tiny pin pricks gently fall like feathers whispering in the snow,

grazing over bare skin as if teasing my senses with light.

Striking the ground tentatively and with an embarrassed hush,

they disappear in a fragmented star dust eruption of reaching digits.

Now with a little bit more meaning a waving blanket begins,

tucking over me in a harvest beyond the horizon.

A fine consistent wetness begins to seep into my being,

darken the ground I walk onwards to what I do not know.

Then comes the torrent undeterred or concerned with light,

a battering of ink marking my soul with determined words.

Crawling around and into every fibre of my corpse,

bouncing against anything it strikes as if re-joining the clouds.

And finally the suffer of rain becomes alive forced downwards,

slicing away my softened up flesh and muscle.

I feel my body fade away cut to pieces and butchered,

washed away amongst the rest of the sewage down hells drain.

Broken will always be broken...

...is the title of my now completed third book. Fully finished, fully edited, front and back covers done...even the thank you page is complete!

I am very happy with it as it reads and flows well (despite the distinct style changes over the course of its three main parts), makes a sort of sense as the third part of the trilogy with my first two books, and, is an original, honest and at times, fantastical, piece of work. I am happy with the various drawings and photographs included in it as well as the short pieces of poetry and children narrative dotted about. It is at times, as expected, raw and brutal, uncompromising and painful but it also has a simple message at the end which I think a lot of people can relate to.

But, I hear you ask, what is it actually about? Well, our main character has found a way to traverse through "reflections" in his life in an attempt to make sense of his existence. He travels to the past and the future and gets trapped in the present for a period. We see the birth of our universe as well as the destruction of the Earth, spend intimate time with family as well as amongst the stars, and, raise the question of regret and how far we will go in order to put right what once went wrong.
Naturally, it is based on my life with 99% of the past and present sections pulled from memory having happened to me. The rest is possible future time lines with maybe just a dash of sci-fi thrown in for good measure. 

The next stage is self publication. I have shopped around but it looks like I will be once again using the same publisher I used for my other two books. This time though, I want it to be hardback and bigger in size...unfortunately that  means all the costs will be higher so it may be at least the end of February before I begin the self-publishing process!

Until then, see below for a little snippet of what to expect:

As he stepped out, the rhythmic pounding echoed in the distance and he could just about feel it through the ground. And yet despite the distance away the piston worked, evidence of the damage it caused was all around him, especially on the gravestones themselves; there weren’t any of them still intact. James shuffled through careful not to stand on any rubble and rock, his concentration remaining fully on the ground and how he walked on his swollen ankle. Eventually he arrived at the grave he was visiting. Even though it too had succumbed to the fracking piston, he had made some makeshift repairs using the pieces that had broken off mixed with fresh concrete. It certainly wasn’t pretty but its shape remained as close to its original and he was determined to keep it that way.

                He dropped to one knee and kissed the headstone before lightly brushing it with the feather duster he somehow suddenly materialised from the overlong and ripped coat that hung from his body. He then sat down with his back resting on the headstone and placed his palms onto the ground itself gripping the soil with his fingers and whispering words only she could hear. James could feel the rhythmic pounding rippling through his entire body sat in this position; through his fingers, under his bum, on his back…he imagined it was her heartbeat coming from the grave itself. As much as he wanted to sit here forever, in reality his legs were cold and his bum was numb after twenty minutes. As he prepared to make the struggle of actually getting up from this position, he noticed something new protruding from the ground a couple of yards in front of him. Crawling over to what looked like a white ball half sticking out the ground, he stopped sharp in his tracks when he noticed what it really was; the top half of a skull.

A new year...

...a new project! So, the last project I blogged about is coming to an end (7th January) so of course, I need a new project to get my writing teeth into. This time, I look for the future for inspiration.

To be honest, it seems that this new project will tag on to the end of my last 2 projects and will form a trilogy within a single book. The first part deals with my character managing to relive parts of his life through reflections whilst the second part has him stuck in one of said reflections living out the period I am living out now whilst the third part has him stuck in a future completely alone. Questions raised include identity, depression, loss, suicide, meaning of life, meaning of death, mental illness and the ramifications of actions and the absolute harm it does...heavy stuff!

The plan is to finish the second part in a few days then continue the third whilst revising and editing the rest. It feels like a daunting task but to be honest, I have pretty much revised and edited the first part and really just need to flesh bits out and tie it all up. The second part I have revised and edited on the go so that shouldn't need much work. And the plan for the third part will to keep it tight and fairly short. Below is an excerpt from the third part:

the future…

chapter one

A rhythmic pounding slow and steady rips through the dour brown morning. Every time the sun threatens to pierce the clouds, they slide across and block it out with a defiant glee and mischief. James stands in the corner of the garden looking out at nothing and everything waiting for the horizon to reveal the thing he is searching for. He narrows his vision and adjusts the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose fully aware that no amount of squinting or playing with the glasses will help his old eyes see into the distance. And then, just as before, she appears…and suddenly he is awake.

He stretches his body down the single bed grimacing as his bones crack and his muscles spasm. As usual, the sheets are damp with sweat and he knows the time without having to look; so routine and predictable are his sleep patterns these days.

The rhythmic pounding is still there. In fact, it never goes away.

Groaning as he sits up, he wipes the drool from his mouth and scratches out the crust from the corner of his eyes. A sudden pain strikes his chest causing him to grasp at it and regulate his wheezy breathing. As it subsides, he pushes himself to a standing position and staggers out the small room and into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet to piss for a good ten minutes is the norm now but at least it gives him the time to wake up as the urine spurts out in fits and starts stinging as it does. He flushes and watches his marmalade coloured piss get replaced by the murky stinking water of the tank before using bottled water over the sink to wash his hands.