Book. THE END

    It has been a while since I posted anything to my blog as I have been busy getting the book ready. Yes, it officially has an ISBN 9781633237865, for those that like to keep track of such things. So it is officially done and Bob Mayer I can finally type ‘The End’. But, Like he pointed out in his blog a few months ago, rarely is it the end. Now, I have to get an official website back up. I got scammed on my previous site and learned a few lessons. Again, this would be something helpful to new writers to understand and get some insight from professional conferences. A simple understanding of the difference between marketing and advertising is not enough. You have to know your readers and know what they want to see in a graphic representation of your work. Sure it has to be easy for them to order and buy the book but it also has to give them something to do past the obvious. I have been using my blog as such, and it is a poor replacement for a well-designed site. So I have been working to get this accomplished. I have also been working closely with the layout and design of the interior of the book. Past edits, and formatting it has to be easy to read and intelligently laid out with enough gaps in the transitions. Thanks again Jay M. Then the cover and back block has to be done. So you see as wise Mr. Mayer points out ‘The End’ is just the beginning.

    My supportive wife, Inga, has left me with this task and is taking the time to spend time with her parents. This may seem odd to anyone who hasn’t lived with a writer. Too often we creative typing monkeys get frustrated and can unintentionally level this frustration at those closest to us. I like to be as honest as possible here. Perhaps too much so. Three days in my underwear, only remembering to eat when you get dizzy going to the washroom and trying to find a few answers in Vodka, or just

recently, Absinth! While the answers are rarely in a bottle, it does slow the brain or provide it a distraction to move out of the mud it finds miring the process. Absinth is perhaps different. They import the real wormwood stuff here. The magical formula used by many creative types in the past and outlawed in most countries. Yes, I know you can buy Absinth in Canada, and they say it is ‘real.' That real definition is a little interpretive. Real ingredients but… when you live in a country that worries about the rat poo level in your Snickers bar, do you think for a second they would let you drink something previous artists have cut body parts off while under the green fairies influence? No! But, this is Georgia, and here you are free to be you. You also are expected to take responsibility for your actions. Local Cha Cha is available everywhere, and its purity is questionable when you buy it out of repurposed Pepsi bottles. The stuff runs about 60 percent pure alcohol so its clean of anything alive but, chemically it is a little risky. Something few locals care about, past doing a spoon burn check. So the imported Absinth is the real deal. I missed leaving my real Absinth spoon back in Canada. A gift from Mr. Antell it was from Finland and very old and I left it in the care of Dimitri with my watches. I made it work, and the hot clouded liquid bit my tongue with a sharp licorice embrace. It took four such potions till the green fairy revealed herself. Less of a fairy really and more like a cloud specter just on the edge of your vision.  I didn’t understand what it was at first until Commander Scotty’s words echoed in my head. “But, It is green.”

    The inspiration arrived, and I scribbled and sketched the book cover. I took pictures wisely thinking I may not be able to interpret this genius while not gripped by this specter’s tutelage. The room got remarkable hot, and I was glad that my tutor had no problem with my near nudity. I forgot to eat. But in a way, I was feeding on my creativity. It was like tossing a brick on the accelerator of a BMW M5 and trying to steer it through the mountains. The wheels eventually always come off. Knowing this I had locked my door and hid the keys when my conscious self-wasn't really paying attention. The morning light did not come easily. I crawled from it like a newly born vampire. I slowly gained the ability to stand and went back to my desk. The notes had survived. The pictures provided illumination and worked as a sort of a self-discovery I didn’t need. However, the cover was done. I was alive.

    So today as a bit of a treat I went to an outside cafe and told you all about it. I am not airing my liver. Who are we kidding the purity of the air would surely kill it. This is what it is to be a writer. So when you are looking at that book on the shelf, and the price know the author bled to create it. Most certainly differently than me. But we bleed the stories we share with you. To imagine the worlds and characters, we become them. We hurt ourselves and often those that love us. It is this to be a writer of fiction.

    The new book will be released shortly. Redemption’s Bullet is ten times the story Grey Redemption is. It is darker, much darker, and tighter because of those that helped/made me edit it over and over again. I am very proud of this book. It is written in blood only for you as you deserve it. A public thanks to testing readers, coerced editors, friends, fans, and family. This would have never been possible without you! A special thanks to Inga the strongest and most loving person I have been gifted with!