Paddy's Wanderings

Farrago is Here!

Farrago:The Michael Bekemeyer Project is released today. This is cool on a lot of levels.

When my good friend Jennifer Hudock started talking about helping her friend Michael Bekemeyer raise money for his film project, I asked her if I could help. She said yes, and put it out there for folks to donate a story to an anthology. A lot of talented people responded and Farrago was born.

The idea is to sell the anthology to help Michael raise the money to do a film. Of course, he is an independant film maker and money, any money at all, will help fund a project. It is not cheap by any means, even when your talking a micro budget, you are still looking at 75k and still borrowing equipment and getting cast and crew to donate their efforts. It is not easy.

So to get a chance to submit a story for publication in an anthology to help out another creative type is too cool. I donated my story, Cowboy Riptide, and I am very excited to be included in such a cool project with so many excellent people. I can not think of a better place for my story to appear. I am very honored to be included.

To the nuts and bolts of the deal. My story, with 16 other talented author's stories is available in eBook format at Amazon and Smashwords for $4.99. If you have a Kindle, or the software Kindle for PC, then you know how easy it is to download the book from Amazon. If you have another eReader or want to catch it in any other format, including pdf, then head over to Smashwords and pick up your copy there. That easy. At just over 63,000 words from 17 authors, thats a lot of story.

 

Snag a copy and help support Michael Bekemeyer to realise his dream.

 

Young Junius in da box!

That my friends, is the coolest thing. I ran into Seth Harwood via Twitter a year ago and bought a copy of his short story collection A Long Way from Disney, and was hooked. I have listened to his podcasts and dig all of his writing. So when he posted up a chance to get a signed hardcopy, hot off the press, of Young Junius if you pre-order it, well then.. I jumped at it. Big time.

The mail was pretty schweet today pally, groovy schweet. Oh sure I listened to the podcasts and even read the first chapter online at Seth's website, you can do that here. But the heft of the tome is in my hands and well, I am going to devour this puppy cause the tidbits I have gobbled up so far have just whet the appetite.

Thats the cover right there. Now if you want a copy, and after reading a chapter for free and digging around on the website, you are going to want to, why then, here is a handy link. Pre-order at Amazon here, or go to your local bookstore and ask them to order it for you. I know B&N will do that no problem and any independant book seller would be more than happy to do so as well.

I am going to go read my hard cover, and enjoy it. No, I don't know how it ends, I specifically stopped listening to podcasts and reading online, just so I could get the whole shebang of a new book read when it got here. The story will grab you and believe me, it was hard to not want to keep listening and reading and the like. Now its here, now I am going to read it all. When I am done, I will post up a review here.

Did I mention I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply when I took it out of the box? It has that lovely, straight off the press, fresh book smell. Call me weird, but it is fantastic. Off to read, have fun out there.

 

The Return ~ AtFoD

an excerpt from After the Fall of Darkness

Vaughn looked up from his seat next to Carnac, the pain of his grief was pushed aside by the white hot pain of loss. It was one more burden he had to carry and he staggered to his feet. It was happening again, this time the lost friend was Riggs, he could feel it. Leaning heavily on the staff, he walked out into the garden.

 

Logar grabbed his head and moaned. He felt the passage of Riggs and knelt down to catch his breath. He looked toward the stable and saw Vaughn stagger out, the look of terror on his drawn face. Logar, looking through the rising fog that hid the dawn, saw Raif come from around the front of the house, panting heavily with the strain.

 

Krish had felt the loss of Riggs and trying to catch his breath walked up stairs. Sam was walking down from the tower, her face wet with new shed tears. She had felt the loss, could feel the sickness of the passing of Riggs. Larissa came out of the bedroom at the sound and stopped in the parlor, looking at her friends.

 

'What has happened?' she asked.

 

Gritting his teeth trying to keep control he said, 'Riggs has died.'

 

Larissa burst into tears and slumped to the floor. Sam knelt down beside her and cradled her head as her own tears ran down her cheeks. Helping Larissa stand, Sam and Krish guided her through the kitchen and out into the garden. Vaughn Logar, and Raif were standing there, the sickness lining their faces. Sam sat Larissa on the bench and tried to control her rapid breathing.

 

'Has anyone seen Storm?' asked Krish.

 

They all shook their head, their breath coming in ragged bursts. Krish felt a tightening in his chest and sat down. They had to find Storm, but the loss and the sickness was overwhelming. Krish stood and looked to the Grove, the dizziness slowly receding. The old friends were trying to shake off the sickness when out of the fog, stalked Storm.

'What happened?' asked Krish as Storm stopped in front of him.

 

'You all felt it, Riggs is dead,' said Storm walking to the trough. He scooped up hand fulls of cold water, splashing his face. 'I followed the trail, then lost it, but the Betrayer has been here.'

 

Logar and Raif put hand to sword, Vaughn bowed his head, mumbling about death. Sam looked at Krish as he sighed heavily and clutched Larissa's hand. The thought that the Betrayer had returned, was stalking them again, cast a heavy cloud over the group.

 

'Where is Riggs?' asked Krish.

 

'I was walking, thinking of Carnac, following the Vigil and decided to go see Riggs,' said Storm,'I should have gone over there last night, I should have checked in on him.'

 

'Where is he now,' said Krish.

 

'He is staked in the Grove,' growled Storm, 'sacrificed like a bull. The Grove has been desicrated for all the good it did anyone.'

 

'Logar, Raif, take Larissa to the stable,' said Krish, 'protect her and Carnac. Storm, take us to the Grove.'

 

Raif grabbed Larissa and walked into the stable, barring the door. Logar drew his sword and stood guard, looking bigger and angrier then ever before. Krish and the others followed Storm as he headed back into the fog toward the Grove. Storm unsheathed his sword, his eyes hardend to black pools of ice. Krish toyed with a dagger, keeping a close eye on his companions. The sickness was replaced with grim determination and raging anger. The Betrayer had returned.

A Pause to Shift Gears

The best laid plans of mice and men...

I had thought I was going to rock it big time in the blog and put out a bunch of new stuff this month, so far, it ain't happening. As a matter of fact, not much has showed up anywhere lately. I have at best scribbled here and there on various projects, not much to show for it either.

I have not been in the mood to put up novel excerpts or some poetry either. I think its a mood thing. Fighting off a cold, feeling pretty tired at the end of the day. My attention and focus has been, elsewhere. Not to jinx it, but I am in the home stretch of starting a new job, I am in the background, drug screen point, so if all goes as planned, I start soon.

Maybe that is where all my energy is going eh? Its worth it, a great opportunity with a good company and a good job. So yeah.. really putting it all into that. I think once that starts, I can get back into a groove, get more out in the blog and get back to normal.

I have too much time to write, but I don't write anymore then I used to when I was working. Strange but true. Thats cool, I can go with it. I have had mucho time with the techno-tot and that has been great, so it all balances. I think it will be cool, I am ready to go.

Gonna keep wandering too.

 

Love the Game

I know people get all excited about baseball during the spring and opening day in April. Personaly, it is September & October and the race for the Pennant & the World Series that gets me going. Baseball has been on my mind the pass couple of days.

The playoffs are on and I have been following, even though the Tigers had a crappy season. I also watched For The Love Of The Game yesterday. Never have seen it all the way through until then, strangely enough. I like baseball movies, who doesn't? Still like Pride of the Yankees, Lou Gehrig will always be a hero. But even newer movies are good, The Natural and Bull Durham come to mind.

I like old time baseball, before they juiced the ball. Y'know, back when the Babe drank like a fish, smoked cigars, ate half a cow and chased skirts all night, before going out the next day and hitting a home run. I still think he is the premier power hitter of all time, even if he didn't do steroids or whine and go on strike. The days of my youth and dreaming about baseball, thats what I mean.

You know, playing because you love to play. I did that when I played little league baseball. I hated it almost as much as I loved it. I had more fun in the backyard playing all day long then I ever did in the league. But I played because I loved the game, even when I couldnt throw a strike for three straight batters or hit the ball. I still loved the game.

By the time I stopped playing as a teenager I could hit the ball left or right handed and throw a strike. I learned a lot playing all those hours in the back yard, and all those afternoons with Grandpa in the barnyard.

So its playoff time and the leaves are falling and I still love baseball. Great movies remind me of that. Lou Gehrig is still a hero of mine too.

 

Sunrise Pause ~ The Journal of Krish

excerpt form the Journal of Krish...

We were up and waking long before the sunrise. The night air was cold and in spite of the fog, we traveled straight and true. We have stopped and are now resting after we had peformed the morning ritual of the sunrise. The fog is slowly lifting as the morning warms my tired legs.

I am tired, but I can not sleep for long. I can feel the drawing down of the darkness ahead. I can not see Carnac or the house near the grove, but I can feel it pulling me through the mist. I believe the rest will be there, to send Carnac to the next life, but I can not see that far ahead. Sam tells me not to worry,we will all be there, and she is right.

To clear my thoughts I have started reciting the history of the people to Sam as we walk. She knows the stories and is used to my storytelling or singing as we travel. It is that familiarity that I hope will help me gather the words I will speak at the ceremony. As much as the tradition of passing the histories to young people is important, this one moment means everything to me. The old ways are a comfort to both of us.

If my old teachers saw me writing in a scroll, all of these thoughts and ideas, they would laugh at such foolishness. But, I still do so every day. I don't think there is a story or song in my fears or dreams. I do think it is important I write this down, to feel what I feel. Someone will read it and maybe understand a bit of our brief time in this life.

The task at hand is calling, time to finish my tea and for us to continue our passage to the valley, to home. It is like walking into a wind, but the urgency and the desire to honor our friend is strong and we will be there.

 

Paddys Poetry Corner

So I have been thinking, and that leads to trouble. Whats new, right? I dig the poetry corner and usually post a poem of mine once a month. On occasion, I post up poems by other folks too. All good and fun too.

So I have been thinking about making a site devoted to poetry and other writing. Just a place to plop down some fiction and poetry of my own. I also thought about inviting some friends of mine, to share their stuff at the same place as well. Nothing super fancy or with the thought of doing an online ezine or some such. More just a place, where folks can go read some good stuff by a bunch of cool writers.

I have a lot of poetry that needs a digital home, why not do it myself. Maybe you would like to join me and just do it for fun. You know, one of those places where people go hang out, lay it down for the crowd and then step out of the spotlight and take a seat at a table and take a listen.

Groovy.. laying down here at the corner today..

Space, Time, Infinity

I am on the edge of a memory, where time
distorts in surrealistic shadow.
I am chasing an alluring dream of mind,
where all my thoughts evaporate from the soul.

I can feel the shifting of conscious perception
into an alternate reality.
I can see the ultimate of my self
reverberating in all of infinity.

All of my emotions are in a state of flux,
caught in the currents of a universal pattern;
rejoicing in the beauty of the paradox.

But the universe exhales existence,
creating a whirlpool of space,
demanding in ritual insistence.

To Forget ~ The Journal of Krish

an excerpt from the Journal of Krish..

I trained for many years in the Grove, learning to be a storyteller. I did well, and learned from the Elders with the hope of one day joining their ranks. I knew the history of the People of the Valley, all the epic songs and stories that make up who we are. I did not learn from scrolls or books, but rather, from the minds of the Elders.

I learned not to forget.

I remember the war, all too well. I have composed several songs and ballads and in the tradition of our people, I have passed those on to other storytellers, to perserve the memories of that time. Tales of courage and honor, of heroic deads by the young men and women who fought the evil that had invaded our home, I sing of that in the stories I tell. I sing of the glory and bravery.

I remember much more then that.

I don't hear the clash of swords or the battle calls, but rather the wail of dying horses and the weeping of wounded men. The battlefield is not some green pasture, but rather a morass of mud and blood. A victorious day is the chance to survive to sunset and measured by the warmth of the fire and the amount of drink needed to wash away the smell of fear and death.

I can not forget.

Some welcomed us home as heroes, most shunned us. We won the war and lost our way. I don't talk about that. Sam and I sometimes do. A few times, when we were still all together, we would drink away the darkenss and tell the sad tales. But really, in truth, no one wants to hear that, to really know.  That is why I write in this journal. Someday, some one may want to know.

I will never forget.

 

Junk Drawer ~ Oct 2010

Welcome to the drawer of junk..

The month went by frakkin fast! Where does the time go.. same place those lost socks from the dryer go.. where cats go when they blink out of existence.  Who knows?

On a personal note, spent a good protion of most weekdays hunting the job. That is good, really, after 6 months of not much of anything, at least I got some nibbles and some prospects. Good thing too, being laid off is tough.

Good news is I have spent a ton of time with the family, which is cool.  Cant complain there. The techno-tot might be getting a little tired of me being around, but I know once I do go back to a regular job, he will not like that at all. Oh well.. I dig this time, cos I know how kids disappear when they become teenagers.

I have been happily scribbling along in the usual jaunts. I have enjoyed doing stuff at Pop Army, Kid Wonderful, Superficial Gallery, Examiner. Lots of different stuff, entertainment, kids, sports, and books, all different and all a ton of fun. Good folks at good sites and they let me hang and blather on.. super cool.

I also have been working along the fiction stuff like normal, collecting more rejection slips and plodding along in spite of that. The blasted novel  is coming along just fine, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, either that or I am seeing things. It don't matter, it is fun and progressing.

Thats about it, nothing really heavy to report.

Happy Wanderings