And it was going along just fine and then this had to happen. A story that’s been simmering in the back of my mind for a long time popped up like that creature exploding out of the guy’s chest in ALIEN, and demanded to be written, R.F.N
It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. So I hammered out a screenplay. Took about three weeks to get a decent complete draft, good enough that I can send it around and get some feedback for the next re-write. That done, I can focus on SPARTACUS JONES AND THE FILM NOIR COWBOY again.
In ROATUA: LAST VOYAGE OF THE VALKYRIE, when his sailboat goes down in a freak squall, Robert Holman, a swashbuckling anthropology professor, is stranded on a mysterious, uncharted, unknown island. He spends a month with the natives there — but he’s only missing for seven days. It’s a Twilight Zone-ish tale with a twist here and a turn there, and an ending that’s open enough to interpretation so it can fuel a few arguments. There are parts of the story that are too long, too, violent or too sexually off-beat for a movie script, but would work fine for a novel, so I may wind up writing that one up. With the screenplay done, at least I have a really good outline.
What do you think?
No trees have to die.
If all goes according to plan, Eclipse of the Heart should be available as an e-book via Smashwords in the next week or so. I love this idea. I can make my work available at a lower price, and no trees have to die. Seems like a win-win situation all around.
Went back to work on it Monday morning for the first round of editing, and today I have a nearly completed first draft. I expect to have it done next week.
That means I’m going to be looking for a few good readers. So if you liked ECLIPSE OF THE HEART, maybe you’d like to have an advance look at the sequel? In return, when it goes to press, I’ll give you a signed copy — and a shout out in the “acknowledgements,” of course.
Meanwhile, if you haven’t already done it, I’d love it if you put a little “review” up on amazon.com. You don’t have to butter me up. Just call it like you see it.
That’s what I do.
Be thou not a candle-wasting motherfucker. Spring trippingly to thy feet and hie thee to thy love’s labors lest they be lost. This shit writeth not itself, O, tempestuously turgid daddy-o.
— William “Wild Bill” Shakespeare, Room 1603
from “Much Ado about Romeo’s Midsummer Night Dream in Venice Beach”