One emerging issue that I’m finding as I write Fracture is how things affect people on periphery. So often in fiction, you see how things affect the main character, but I’m writing from a range of third-person viewpoints, so you see how one event affect many people involved in the situation. It’s interesting to watch it unfold, because I’m amazing myself as I show how one event in the plot can cause three, four, or even five completely different reactions based on the character’s relationship to the person and/or event. In fact, one of the main characters that has a role that’s continuing to grow and emerge is the niece of the first ‘miracle cure’ that kicks off the novel, and how the other characters find it difficult or impossible to relate to her.

No doubt, this is a direct effect of my father-in-law’s dementia and recent passing. I was on what you’d call the “periphery” in that situation, as so many have felt compelled to remind me (even though I made no claims of a first degree affect), and having a role just on the outside gives you a unique perspective that often isn’t acknowledged. My pastor assured me that a periphery perspective is necessary and is usually appreciated in retrospect, whether other’s actively realize it or not. Whatever the case, I can safely tell you that supporting roles are as unglamorous in real life as they are in fiction, and often more difficult. I can’t count the number of times I bore silent witness, zipped up my own thoughts and observations, and swept my own issues that were obviously minor in the larger context under the rug. I can say from experience that you often feel lonely, and if you find one person that’s willing to look you in the eye and say “how are YOU doing?” then you gain a new appreciation for that person, because you have enough awareness to full well realize that they may be the only one  to see past everything else and onto the sidelines.

It can be frustrating at times, but before you logout as a “oh no, this is a woe-is-me entry,” I’m here to say that it’s not a bad place to be, either. And, in fact, there are times when you seek the loneliness of that odd place you find yourself in.  Why? Simply stated, grief is a shape-shifter that can wear the toughest of us down from any perspective, and the desert of the periphery gives you sanctuary to find where you, your perspective, and your wisdom plug in to a new reality. It shows you how bearing witness to the struggles and suffering of others fits you in with the world around you. It stretches you in new directions and opens your eyes not only to those right in front of you, but others on the sidelines and in the deserts of life. I know I’ve been surprised over the last couple of months not only as I write this novel, but how I’ve opened my eyes to things and people that I usually don’t see, and realizing how limited my own attention has been. It also gives you a place of your own to make sense of it all without pressures or complications. There's a simplicity in it. Sometimes you aren't looking to understand or put meaning to it all. Sometimes, you just want to be, so you can see how life flows around you and choose how and where you to rejoin the world as you know it.

And yes, my pastor was right. There are places where your unique perspective fits and is even appreciated. As with all things, you just have to wait for the right timing, and that timing usually comes when you least expect it. The spotlight isn’t always the place to be, and truthfully there are times when the people there probably envy the anonymity that you enjoy from the shadows in a supporting role. They do come to places where they wonder what they miss, and need you to show them. They need the comfort of somebody that can discern rational from imagined. Sometimes, it gives them strength to see you rolling right along with the world because they know that if you’re still alive and kicking, then they can be too – they can move on, and heal, and take one day at a time and build life in this new reality, because you’ve done it already and they see your path. I’m not talking about dragging them by the hair, kicking and screaming. I’m talking about being a living example. You never know who’s watching you quietly going about your day, and how it’s affecting them. Breakthroughs aren’t always big, loud things. Sometimes they’re the quiet revelations of the soul from the unlikeliest of places.

And sometimes, it’s those supporting roles that change your world. You never know. You may think your place, role, and opinion lacks merit, but it may be the very cornerstone of truth that the future is built on for more people than you realize. Just take a look around. How much would we miss if it weren’t for the ones that supported the great names and influences that got us to where we are in the world today?

You never know. That’s another thing that fiction and reality have in common. And it’s the thing that makes life most interesting.

That’s all today. Take care, and have a great rest of the week.

Bye!

I just realized that I've written 21 chapters of Fracture, but I haven't shared a sample with you in a while. It's really been coming along, and I hope to hit the halfway point of the manuscript next week. In the meantime, let me catch you up on the progression of the plot. Here's chapter 6, where we find that there could be more to Kalea, our main character, than meets the eye. Enjoy!

Chapter 6

Kalea sat in a chair on the stage of the high school auditorium, surveying the area with the school principal – a stern, graying man with a perpetual scowl named Darren Henson.

“It just seems that it needs something more,” he grumped.

Kalea took a deep breath, reminding herself that the school district brought several million dollars to the company every year, so telling him to jump in the lake would be detrimental not only to her career, but her financial well being as well. Plus, she was here for an interview with a major magazine about the project. This would get national coverage, and anything that took the focus off her bloody hospital dash and back on her work was a good thing.

“You have the most state of the art theater in the region. Relax, they’ll love it. They wouldn’t be coming if they weren’t impressed.” Kalea swiped her brow and shifted in her stuffy grey and pink pantsuit. She wasn’t used to dressing this formally, and it was still too hot for this in mid-September.

“I wish they would have come this spring when we had a production, and when we’ve had more time to tweak it.”

“Mr. Henson, I can’t tweak it any more. I’ve given you all the power that the grid can give you. It passed inspection. It’s fine.”

He grunted and checked his smartwatch as the first students trickled into the auditorium. Since there wasn’t a production ready to showcase the renovated theater, they arranged to have the interview conducted and filmed onstage with the student body as the audience. Kalea was nervous about that aspect of it. She was used to speaking to small groups, and even on camera regarding larger projects, but the concept of questions from strangers that knew little or nothing about the finer points of engineering that went into the project made her stomach flip. This wasn’t exactly stuff you could “dummy down” to an audience. When it comes to technical engineering concepts, you get it or you don’t. No amount of explaining changes it.

Mr. Henson glanced at Kalea. “Relax, you’ll do fine.”

Kalea smiled weakly. “Is it that obvious that I’m nervous?”

“Yes, but it’s alright. You get used to this.” He cracked a small smile. “Besides, you’ve done a nationally televised interview. This should be a piece of cake.”

Kalea grunted away the cliché as the volume of murmuring voices grew with more students filling in the auditorium.  She fanned herself with her notes. “Maybe I should get our mechanical engineer to see about adjusting the HVAC system in here. These lights do get awfully hot.”

“I already asked. He said he’s done all he can with the electrical load too,” Mr. Henson said. “We’ll have to sweat it out.”

“I’m getting used to that,” Kalea mumbled as the magazine interviewer, a tall, thin woman with short, dark hair and striking green eyes breezed on the stage. Kalea and Mr. Henson stood to shake her hand.

“Kalea, so glad to meet you!” she bubbled, shaking Kalea’s hand so vigorously that Kalea’s black cameo earrings swung. “I’m Veronica Eddings. It’s such a pleasure to meet you and cover what other miracles you’re capable of in Modern Design Magazine!”

Kalea blushed. “I’m better at engineering than I am at running through hospital hallways, if that’s what you mean. But thanks. I’m glad for the coverage, both for the firm and for the school.” She gestured to Mr. Henson. “This is Darren Hensen, the school principal.

Veronica shook Mr. Hensen’s hand and they took their seats. “Thanks for letting me record the interview with the equipment in here. I understand this is the first time cameras on wires have been used outside an athletic facility?”

“Just in the State of South Carolina,” Kalea said, “and it did require a radical redesign of the entire area. The hope is that it will give better quality recordings by capturing a number of angles that haven’t been available at the high school level before. The first official use will be the Christmas program, but the big thing will be the school’s production of Annie Get Your Gun in April. Today’s interview will be the first live test on all of the equipment, and how well it airs on public access stations.

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “So we’ll have a television audience too?”

“No, it’s being recorded for playback on the local access channel ,” Mr. Henson said. “Obviously, we’ll want to do some editing and production work to clean it up. We want to show the public the best work we can do.”

“Of course,” Veronica said, straightening her tan skirt as she settled in the chair. “Let’s go over my plan for today’s interview. I’d like to start with the camera system and how you, Kalea, took arena camera plans to an indoor venue. Then I’d like to move on to the wireless control of lighting and stage effects systems. After that, I’ll move on to Mr. Henson’s vision for how this applies to theater productions, and an open conversation on how this has the potential to revolutionize theater design of all types in the future.”

“I’m not sure about revolutionizing design,” Kalea said. “It’s just a high school auditorium. I’m sure a lot more work needs to be done before it goes large scale.”

Veronica laughed. “You’re so modest! Kalea, that’s why I’m here – to show how you’ve revolutionized design for live action productions!”

Kalea flushed and reached down to scratch her leg, which was itching terribly.

“We’re ready to go in two minutes!” the head of the stage crew, a stocky, blonde teen with glasses, said.

Mr. Henson nodded. “Time to rock and roll.”

Kalea rolled her eyes. Was he going to ruin the interview with these stupid Earth clichés?

What? She thought. She shook off the unbidden thought and adjusted the microphone clipped to her jacket while Veronica gathered her notes and the cameraman flashed his fingers showing the final countdown to recording.

Veronica smiled brightly and stared into the center camera. “Good morning South Carolina, and welcome to Modern Design Magazine Chat Hour. I’m your host, Veronica Eddings. Today, we’re talking to Kalea Kerner and Darren Henson regarding the revolutionary upgrades they made this summer to the Riverside High School auditorium in Columbia, South Carolina.” Veronica turned to Kalea. “Miss Kerner, I’d like to open with talking about the camera system you designed especially for this space. It implements stadium style cameras on revolving wires similar to the camera systems that are used in sporting arenas. How difficult was it to take a design for outdoor use into a limited space like this?”

Kalea took a sip of water and leaned forward. “The design really wasn’t difficult with the system they already had in place.” She gestured to Mr. Hensen. “Of course, we always start with asking Principal Hensen and the leaders on the drama team what their vision is for the auditorium. They are the ones that use it regularly, so it has to be a system that they can operate and can run off the power available to the school without taking from other areas. Principal Hensen told me the primary goal with this redesign was to be able to get better recordings of productions for broadcast on local access television, streaming video reproductions, and acting samples for students that need it for a portfolio to colleges where they plan to study theater in the future. So my goal was to design a system that –“

“Was all the better to see you with,” a voice said from the audience. Everybody turned to stare at the voice coming from a stocky, red-headed young man in the center of the auditorium. He stood and pushed his way to the aisle. “That’s what we really wanted, isn’t it? We wanted people to see us better, to get more public recognition for the school, to show everybody how wonderful we are.”

“Who is that kid?” Kalea asked, squinting in the lights to focus on the man approaching the stage slowly. She noticed that his right hand was in his pocket and he seemed to be fiddling with something.

“That’s not a kid,” Mr. Hensen said, “that’s Dale Zeigler. He’s the drama coach.”

“He’s kind of young for a drama coach, isn’t he?” Veronica asked.

Mr. Hensen shrugged. “He’s been here for three years.” He pointed to Dale. “Mr. Zeigler, did you have a question for me or Miss Kerner?”

Dale laughed, his body shuddering slightly. “Why yes, I certainly do. The question is for you.” He waved his left arm around the room. “Was all of this worth selling your soul for?”

Mr. Hensen’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“All this technology! All this money you spent to show everybody that we’re the best school in the state. All these reasons why you couldn’t afford to give hard working teachers and staff members a decent raise this year.”

Mr. Hensen stood and pointed at Darren. “Mr. Zeigler, that will be enough. I’m sorry you don’t agree with these changes, but we have to take a more long term approach to improving the school. You know salaries come from a different budget. This year, the school board decided to upgrade facilities. I assure you that it will lead to better compensation for employees and staff in the future. You have to be patient!”

“Be patient!” Dale said, laughing. “I have to be patient. I have to be patient while my bank account is empty. I have to be patient while I struggle to put food on the table for my kids. I have to be patient while the bank threatens to foreclose on my house. I have to be patient while my wife has an affair with an architect that flatters her with a lifestyle I can only dream of.”

“Ouch!” Kalea said. “That’s awful. Who’s this architect?”

Dale stared at Kalea with hard, green eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing does anymore.”

Kalea slumped in her chair when she realized she asked that stupid question right into the microphone. So much for not making a fool of herself yet again.

“Where is the resource officer?” Mr. Hensen asked, looking around the auditorium. “This man needs to be escorted off the property. He’s threatening the safety of the children.”

“The resource officer is indisposed, just like all of you are fixing to be!” Dale pulled a gun out of his pocket and fired a shot into the ceiling. Screams filled the room as students ducked on the floor. Dale jumped on the stage, directly in front of Kalea.

“Don’t believe the lies they sell you!” he shouted, firing a bullet directly into one of the revolving cameras that shattered on the floor in the front row. “They say it’s for the greater good? No, it’s to feed their own ego.” He waved the gun toward Kalea and Mr. Hensen. “These two will get rich while we rot at their bidding! There’s nothing in any of this for us. They don’t care about us. All they care about is keeping us under their feet so they can step on us on their way to the top. Well, no more!” He turned, pointing the gun, a silver .380, in Kalea’s face. “Say goodbye to all of your fame and fortune, witch.”

Kalea’s hand shot up and grabbed the muzzle of the gun, which sparked at her touch. Dale screamed as an electric current ran up his arm, driving him to his knees. Kalea stood up slowly, staring at Dale with hard, black eyes. “This vessel is broken. It must be purged.” Her eyes glowed silver as she bent to touch a red scar on Dale’s hand.

“No!” he screamed, grabbing Kalea’s ankle. A blue spark shot through him, knocking him back off the stage and onto the front row floor. Kalea collapsed into her chair, breathing heavily. She gulped and pulled herself up straight in the chair, looking at the audience staring at her in terror.

“What just happened?” she asked, and passed out.

If you know me, then you know it's not unusual for me to have 2 or 3 writing projects going at once. However, with a trilogy in progress, it's time for me to organize and make a plan to keep things going. Here's what's up with my writing these days:

Shatterpoint, the blog series I did here in July, is now published as a free ebook at Smashwords. I published it yesterday and encourage you to go pick up your free copy. If you've never registered with Smashwords, it's easy and well worth it. Plus, you can get ebooks in any and every format available on the market today. So go pick up your copy today and forget everything you know about Christians! It's available at 
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472472 

Obsidian, the sequel to Move, is temporarily shelved. I feel I've rushed this project, and I need to slow down to make it the best ebook it can be. I'm putting it on hold while I write the rough draft of Fracture, the first book in The Earthside Trilogy. At the rate that Fracture is going, I believe I'll have that rough draft done by Halloween, so I should return to Obsidian in November. I plan to self publish it, so hopefully I'll have proofreads and cover art for it and be ready to publish by late November or early December - if, as an old friend of mine says, the Lord wills and creeks don't rise. Honestly, I don't think shelving this project for now will delay the publication much more than a month or so from my original plan. 

As I just mentioned, Fracture, the first book in The Earthside  Trilogy, is in progress. I have a plan for the entire book and it's flowing ok - usually, I pick up around the midpoint, so this one should go pretty quick. Once I get Obsidian complete and published, I plan to take the rest of 2014 off and return to do the rough draft of Book 2 and Book 3 in this series. I decided to write the entire series at once instead of doing the books one at a time. I feel it would be better to do it all together and to focus on this project solely in 2015, at least until it's ready for submittal to the publisher. This is my biggest venture to date - it will probably be around 200,000 words total for all 3 books, so I need to buckle down and really focus on it. Plus, sci-fi is more intensive than mystery, so it takes a sharper focus and lots more research to pull it off. But it's fun. I enjoy it. I'm already enjoying Fracture, so this whole series promises to be fun. 

So that's the plan. Let's hope it works out. Then again, I can adapt and adjust if I need to. That's what being a writer is all about!

That's all today. Take care and have a great week. 

Bye!

Hi folks! After sharing the prologue to Fracture a couple of days ago, I thought it would be good to share a chapter where you can get to better know the two main characters. You've already met Kalea Kerner, the main character. Here you meet her cousin, Annaliese Kerner-Boyce. Annaliese is six months older than Kalea. She's a psychiatrist in Washington D.C. where she lives most of the year with her husband, Kieran Kerner, a member of Congress. 

Enjoy!

Annaliese scanned the pick up line outside of Columbia Metropolitan Airport, searching for her cousin’s car. She checked her watch. Four o’clock on Monday afternoon, right on time. Kieran tried to get Annaliese a flight on Saturday, but the President and Vice-President were traveling that weekend, so it was easier for her to wait until they returned on Monday to get her flight privledges. She fanned herself in the sticky summer air. Kalea still had a bad habit of running late. Then again, she should have known better than to wear a black pantsuit and two inch high heeled sandals on the flight. Congressman’s wife or not, southeastern summers are too brutal for formal dress.

Kalea finally pulled up five minutes late in her metallic blue luxery car. Annaliese raised an eyebrow, thinking that her cousin was taking well to her role as a successful business owner – until Kalea stepped out of the car in light blue jeans, a pink shirt, and slip-on walking shoes.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kalea said, reaching up to hug Annaliese. Annaliese stooped slightly into the hug. She was five foot five, but the heels made it awkward. “I just got finished with a school inspection and they ran over.”

“They still make you do that in this heat?” Annaliese said, stashing her bag in the trunk and ducking in the car, where the air conditioner blew her dark brown, shoulder length curls. She knew the flat iron would be pointless in this humidity, so she left it at home, knowing she’s envy her cousin’s long, straight hair hanging obediently down her back.

“School starts Wednesday. We have to make sure it’s safe for the kids to walk in the building by the time the first bell rings.”

“How are you doing?” Annaliese asked as Kalea pulled away from the curb.

“Busy, but I think that will settle down over the next few weeks. I’ve had a lot of catching up to do from the time I missed helping with Uncle Carson over the past couple of months.”

Annaliese drew a sharp breath. “Kalea, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I wanted to and I feel guilty about you having to play my role in this. It’s so crazy up in D.C. between my practice and Kieran fighting to fund his projects with the Commerce, Science and Transportation committee. As chair, a lot of the burden falls on him. The President is still threatening to discontinue the program, you know. Kieran is fighting to keep the Space Program alive.”

“What’s the President’s problem with it?” Kalea asked. “I certainly thought his tirade would end after the controversy and media fallout over his comment on wasting resources on empty space?”

“The President’s supporters on cutting the program claim that the funding would be better spent on building up our military. The unrest in the East is building to proportions not seen since World War II.”

“I know China is involved now, but how will funding our military help? The United States pretty pulled out of everywhere and stopped getting involved in national matters five years ago when Russia and the Middle Eastern alliance started butting heads.”

“That whole side of the world is at war and it’s going to spread. The United States is under pressure from most of Western Europe and Australia to support the cause for democracy.”

“I didn’t know democracy was under attack. I thought it was this three way battle of theocracy, communism and socialism taking over the region.”

“It isn’t now, but no matter what the outcome is, it’s not favorable for democratic governments,” Annaliese said. “A lot of people believe we’re on the brink of World War III.”

“This is why I don’t watch the news.” Kalea laughed. “Of course, if they cut the Space Program and an asteroid smacks the planet and fries us all, all bets are off. Then everybody will be in the hereafter arguing over why we didn’t keep our eyes on the skies.”

Annaliese returned the laugh. “It does seem that the things that undo us usually hit where we aren’t looking.” She looked down, studying her two carat diamond ring and gold, diamond studded wedding band. “I try to help Kieran as much as I can. Some of my clients are well connected, and if I help them personally then they’re gracious with helping politically. Kirean needs all the support he can get to keep the Space Program alive. Most of our technological advances have come through it.

Kalea held up a hand. “You know politics blows up  my brain, so you don’t need to explain. I trust that you’re both busy with matters of National importance.”

“I still should have been here for Dad. There’s no excuse for that.” Annaliese blew a long sigh. “Here I am a psychiatrist, and I couldn’t help my own father.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. His Alzheimer’s was too advanced  by the time the nanotech that could have reversed the damage was released to the public.” She paused. “He’s fine now, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I still should have been here more. You’re stronger than I am, to be able to watch this progress day by day. I just couldn’t face seeing my father slip away.”

Kalea smiled. “I’m an engineer. I don’t have feelings. I’m all logic and function, remember?”

Annaliese returned the mock smile. “So are shrinks, but I didn’t pull it off this time. My baby cousin  showed me up.”

“I think six months hardly makes me a baby to you,” Kalea said. “Did Avery give you a hard time? Because he hasn’t been around a lot either. I think it’s ironic that he was fussing about you not being here last week, but before Uncle Carson took that bad turn it had been,” she paused, thinking. “Easter. He came for a three day weekend at Easter.”

“He did get on me a little, but I passed it off as immaturity and his own emotions getting the better of him. He just turned thirty. He has yet to gain our perspective.”

Kalea laughed. “So give him six more years to grow up, eh?”

“Well, the truth is that he did make a point. I felt guilty about not being around ever since Dad fell after the fourth of July. He went downhill fast.”

“He had a subdural hematoma from that fall on the front porch. The doctors didn’t do surgery because of his advanced Alzheimer’s. They thought it might go away on its own anyway.”

“I forgot about that. Does he still have it?”

Kalea shook her head. “They did a scan before they released him last week, and it was gone. In fact, they did a full check-up, and he’s the picture of health. Your father is the man you remember again. Well, mostly.”

“What does that mean?”

“He seems different to me.”

“How?” Annaliese asked.  

“I don’t know, it’s little things. Like sometimes he looks at me like he can see right through me, or like he sees something that nobody else can. And he says strange things sometimes, like he’ll be watching the news and he’ll blurt out ‘what a waste of energy when there are worse things coming.’ Then when you ask what that means, he either  passes it off as a joke, or he doesn’t remember saying it.”

“I imagine coming back from the brink of death has shifted his paradigm significantly. Didn’t the nurses say he only had a matter of hours left just before he woke up?”

Kalea nodded silently.

“When you fight the reaper and win, then I imagine a lot of what we worry about seems silly.”

“I suppose so. You can talk to him and decide for yourself.”

“I will,” Annaliese says. She paused. “I saw your interview Friday night. It was good.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Kalea said sharply.

Annaliese stared at Kalea, shocked at the bitterness in her voice. “Why not?”

“I made a fool of myself. I looked as bad as those people proclaiming that we’re living in the end times.”

“No you didn’t. I thought it was a great interview. But there was a point where you didn’t seem like yourself. It’s when the reporter asked about your scar.”

“I don’t know what came over me or why I said that,” Kalea said. “And I don’t know why that scar flared up like that right before the interview. It had been faint until that day, and they they turn on the cameras and it’s practically neon red.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Have you had it checked?” Annaliese asked.

“I did this morning. They scanned it and said it’s cosmetic. They offered me nanotech to fade it, but I said no.”

“Why?”

“It’s expensive and a scar isn’t worth it, especially if there’s no medical reason for it,” Kalea said, “and I don’t like he idea of robot doing stuff in my body.”

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those types that don’t believe in mixing biology and technology.”

“I don’t believe in doing it indiscriminately, especially for something that isn’t terminal or life threatening. If you body can heal it, let it. Besides, it’s still too new and too expensive. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“I do,” Annaliese said.

“Besides, the body has a remarkable capacity for healing itself. Just look at Uncle Carson. He recovered completely without any nanotech whatsoever.” Kalea smiled mischievously. “You can’t let robots perform all the miracles, can you?”

Annaliese stared at Kalea in surprise at the out of place comment. “So you believe what happened to Dad was a miracle?”

Kalea sombered. “I’m not sure what it was, but I’m certain we’ll all find out soon enough.” She turned on the gravel driveway mostly hidden from the main road. “Welcome back to The Kerner Complex, as the locals call it. Do you want me to take you to your house, or your parents’?”

Annaliese thought as Kalea wound through the road leading to the houses spread out on their five hundred acres of wooded family land. “Take me home. I’d like to unpack and change into cooler clothes. I’ll meet Mom and Dad for dinner. Will you join us?”

Kalea shook her head. “Thanks, but I have to pass. I have some work to do from home tonight. Maybe another time.”

“Maybe,” Annaliese said softly, still staring at Kalea.

“You enjoy some time with them,” Kalea said, her eyes seeming to sparkle in a shaft of afternoon sunlight streaming through the trees. “I’m sure you’ll be amazed at what you find back here at  home.”

If you’ve been on Facebook, then you know that I started work on my sci-fi trilogy last week. Although I’ve been planning this project for a couple of months, I really didn’t think I’d start it until 2015, but as often happens, the ideas started coming and, well, you roll with them before you lose them. One thing all writers know is to write when you have the story.

The series is titled The Earthside Trilogy, and Book 1 is tentatively titled Fracture. So far, I’ve written three chapters, and it’s coming along quite well. I’m really excited about this project and look forward to seeing it develop and having fun with creating my own tale of “the ultimate alien invasion.”

I usually share the prologue of my novels with you when I start a new writing project. Honestly, I hesitated to share this one, because it’s a deathbed scene (well, perhaps) and might be disturbing. The thing is, it’s integral to the plot, and you won’t understand future excerpts unless you know what happens here. It is, after all, what kicks off the story. After some internal debate, I’ve decided heck with it, it’s going to be out there eventually anyway. So here you have it.

Here’s the context of the story: meet Kalea Kerner, a thirty-three year old electrical engineer in Columbia, South Carolina. She’s a successful young woman who recently took over as President of her father’s engineering company after his retirement a few months ago, and was recently heralded in the media as one of the youngest professional business owners in the State of South Carolina. We find her sitting with her Uncle Carson, who is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s (maybe?).  This is set in the future, but not very far – perhaps fifteen to twenty years. I’ve decided to hint at the slightly futuristic setting throughout the novel without specifically “dating” it per some suggestions I’ve found on writer’s groups online. You’ll see this in future excerpts. For now, you can imagine that it’s sometime in the years 2020-2025.

And now, I proudly present Prologue of Fracture. Venture forth if you dare:

No matter how clean a hospital is, there’s no way to mask the simple fact that people die here. They do it every day, and no amount of cleanser or disinfectant can wash away the overbearing sense of loss that permeates these places. Souls enter and leave the world in hospitals every day with such regularity that it’s routine.

Still, it’s different when it’s someone you know. It’s not just another death. This time, it’s Uncle Carson. 

Kalea blew out a long sigh as she fanned herself in the stifling room. “Why is it so hot in here?”

No reply. Just the shallow hiss of the air conditioner and Uncle Carson’s rattled breath. The same as the last two hours. A useless air conditioner that somehow couldn’t go below eighty degrees and that awful death rattle. The nurse called her Aunt and cousin out of the room for a “conversation” five minutes ago, leaving her alone on here to watch him just in case – of what? Maybe he could still hear, but if his demise was inevitable to everybody else, then surely it was inevitable to him. He was the one stuck in the bed. He was the one hooked up the machines. He was the one rattling, rattling, rattling. She heard a muffled sob out of her aunt in the hallway.

“Geeze!” she hissed, dropping her shoes on the floor and pulling the splint off her left leg. “It’s a hundred degrees outside and this sprained ankle is so swollen that it’s almost the size of the pumpkins you used to grow. Remember the pumpkins?”

No response. So much for reminiscing over the good times.

Kalea leaned back in the chair, propping her foot on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, Uncle Carson. I’m sorry that the cure came too late.” She raised her canned drink in a mock salute. “Here’s to the world’s worst timing.”

Rattling – from the air conditioner and Uncle Carson.

Kalea sat the can on the table and leaned back in the chair. “This is crap,” she muttered, pressing her hand over her head where she felt a migraine coming on. Great, one more problem was just was just what she needed. Her uncle was dying because the nanotech that could have reconnected his neural pathways was put on the medical market too late to help him. She was hobbling around on a sprained ankle because she couldn’t afford the same tech that could have healed this stupid running injury in a matter of minutes. And now her head hurt and her medication was left behind in her apartment, forgotten in her “your uncle is dying” haste of picking up her cousin at the airport and rushing here, just to sit and wait. She pressed harder, trying to press out pain, the rattle, her aunt’s sobs in the hallway.

Kalea groaned as she squinted at the late afternoon summer sunshine streaming through the window, reminding herself that whatever chaos reigned in here, the world was going on as normal out there, and she’d be part of it again as soon as they got through this. They would get through this. Whatever happened to Uncle Carson, tomorrow would come and they would make it through that day, and the next, and the next, and everyday after that until they faced this moment themselves. At least, that’s what the chaplin said a hour ago.

Kalea relaxed, sinking in the chair. She opened her eyes a slit to see the blue sky and sunlight through the top of the window. A peace seeped into her, a quietness that told her that everything would be alright. Tomorrow may not come for Uncle Carson, but it would for everybody else, and they would go on.

A hand grabbed Kalea’s ankle. She jerked up to see Uncle Carson sitting up in the bed, his hand holding her sprained ankle.

“Kalea?”

Kalea tried to pull back her foot, but his grip tightened. She whined.

“Kalea, it’s going to be alright.”

She stared at him with wide, brown eyes. “What --“

Uncle Carson smiled. “It’s fine. We’ve been chosen. We’re going to save the world.”

Kalea pulled harder on her ankle. A shock went through her ankle and foot as she jerked away and leaped out of the chair, dashing out of the door. She ran down the hall to the nurses station where her aunt and Avery has retreated with the nurses, her left bloody foot leaving prints on the  linoleum floor. They stopped as they saw her approach, her short, brown hair flying behind her. Avery hurried to meet her, catching her in his arm. “Kalea, what is it?”

Kalea gasped, staring at Avery. “He’s awake.”

Aunt Molly turned from the nurse she was talking to, her eyes wide. “What did you say?”

“He’s awake!”

“That’s impossible,” the nurse said, pushing past them. They followed her to Uncle Carson’s room,  where they found him sitting up and calmly removing the morphine IV drip from his arm. He smiled at them.

“Hello everybody. Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

Aunt Molly and Avery rushed to Uncle Carson, engulfing him in a hug.

The nurse pushed her hair out of her face, her shaky arm exposing a phoenix tattoo. “I don’t understand.”

Aunt Molly looked up from her embrace, tears dripping down her cheek. “It’s a miracle!”

Kalea backed against the wall. “Then why am I scared?”

I had no idea that school started back up this week! Oops! Well, it didn't take me long to figure it out, between Rick informing me that the most stressful time of the year was upon him, and I hit bumper to bumper traffic on my commute these past couple of days. I guess I tuned out all the back to school stuff because frankly, when you're in the workforce, one season is much the same as the rest. It's Monday - Friday, winter, spring, summer, and fall. 

See what you kids have to look forward to? 

Really, where did the summer go? I suppose I did lose track of it with everything going on these past few months. It's understandable, but still shocking. You hate to take a look around and say "whoa, what's happening?" but there are times when it happens to us all. It seems I'm still working on the getting back on track thing. It's alright. We all live one day at a time, and the world keeps turning. 


In other news, I have the first couple of chapters of Fracture written, and it's got a pretty good foundation going. The situation is set and now it's time to watch it unfold. This is a big project, and I'm trying to remember to have fun with it and to enjoy the whole process of writing it, from start to finish. While I always enjoy my writing, it seems that each novel and/or project is a unique experience. Now that I've done one sci-fi novel (Splinter) and a novella (Incursion), I do feel more comfortable and confident writing in this genre - so I'm having more fun with planning and plotting now, and I'm not so nervous about "pulling it off." I know I can do it, because I've done it twice already. Now I really get to find myself in the sci-fi genre through this project. 


I'm also getting back into exercising. My parents gave us their stationary bicycle last weekend, because they decided to go back to using a treadmill and our treadmill was on it's last legs. We've been using a treadmill and walking for years, and I think we got slack with it because we were bored and needed a change. So far, it's working out, but wow my legs are sort. It's definitely a different kind of workout! But it's good to be exercising again. I want to make that a regular part of my life again. 


So that's life here. I hope you're doing well. Take care, and have a great week. 


Bye! 

Remember the Superfriends cartoons from back in the 80’s? I loved that show. Usually, the Wonder Twins and that intergalactic monkey of theirs were screwing things up back at the Hall of Justice.

Not so here, thankfully, and life has plugged on. Truth be told, a lot has been happening lately that I haven’t talked about. It was a friend on Twitter that asked if I’m writing. I know I’ve said “a lot” on social media, but haven’t elaborated on that much. Perhaps its best if I start at the beginning and work through it project by project:

Whiskey Creek Press sells to Start Publishing – I shared a news release about this a few weeks ago, and it’s official: I’m with a New York City publisher. Whiskey Creek Press, who published  Splinter and Anywhere But Here, sold to Start Publishing in July. So far I’m very happy with Start Publishing. It’s funny: I started out wanting a NYC publisher, decided to go the ebook/indie route in 2010, and now here I am. Talk about taking the long road! Life is funny, I’ll say that. And you never know where your road leads.

Nonstop to Nowhere, the story for the Nightlife Young Adult Anthology, is turned in and is being formatted for ebook release in late September, and a paperback release in December. I’m glad this is progressing and am excited about this project. Look for more plugs for it through social media and this blog as we get closer to a release date!

Obsidian, the sequel to Move, is getting to a final form. I plan to send it to a proofreader and get cover art next month. If all goes well, I hope to publish it through Kindle Direct and Smashwords in October. This has turned out to be a great project, and I’m happy with how everything ends in it. Stay tuned.

Shatterpoint, the inspirational novella that I released here last month, is also in progress. I plan to self publish that and offer it as a free ebook, but there are some parts that need to be redone, given recent life events. Fortunately, it’s a short project, so I hope to have that published through Smashwords before too long. I don’t want to rush it, but at the same time, I see no reason to hold on to it either. Truth be told, I’ll probably finish it and get it posted sooner rather than later. Keep an eye here and on social media for announcements.

The Earthside Trilogy. The sci-fi trilogy has a name, and has gone from planning to progression. Yes folks, the alien invasion is coming! Book 1 is tentatively titled Fracture. Book 2 is developing, and Book 3 is currently summarized as follows: all hell breaks loose - battles, breakdowns, chaos, and resolution. That one obviously needs more development. This is a massive project, and I’m excited about it. Don’t look for huge aliens with tentacles and flippers here. My aliens will be something different. (No spoilers, but I can assure you that there will be no intergalactic monkeys in this story.)

Oh, the fun this already is! One thing I still haven’t figured out is whether to write all three books together, or take them one at a time. I’m leaning toward writing straight through all three, but we’ll see what works.

Short stories and fun stuff - through all of this, I have done a couple of short stories. It hasn’t been much and is mostly writing exercises. The big thing in this area is that I did a fun bird story over at Conure Corner titled Attack on Anipal Land. It started as a fun story I told Zack about his adventures with our Twitter friends, and Rick encouraged me to write it and post it on their blog. The story grew to 5 installments and was a hit on Twitter. People love seeing their names in print, especially on fun adventures like this one turned out to be.  Plus, it was great to write and share something just for fun, without worrying about grammar, spelling, and publishing potential.

Readwave Editor - You may also recall that I accepted a post as an editor for Readwave in May. That’s grown to three themes: feminism, society, and flash fiction. I’m enjoying that too, and I think it helps me as a writer to see what other people are doing “out there” and to stay connected with other writers. The stories are short, so it’s not terribly time consuming, but it’s still good to get a peek at the writing industry from the other side of the desk, so to speak. I’m having fun with this. Plus, it inspired me to clean up my own profile on the site, and to keep plugging along and having fun with my own writing.

So whew, that’s the update on my writing! When I said I had a lot going on, I wasn’t kidding. And not even a stupid cartoon monkey dumping shape shifting buckets of water on the super-computer, either. Zack and Chloe are downright sophisticated compared to that!

So there’s you update on what’s happening in other areas of life. The muse and the laptop are working overtime, as they should be with a writer. I hope you’re enjoying life and things are going well. Take care, and have a great weekend.

Bye!