Piecemeal...

Y'know, in all the mess of my head, something bright sometimes stands out. And while eating my tacos, I had a moment that wasn't in my original outline.

I'm at the point, which is early on in writing the story, where when a moment for PvSH hits me, I write it out and worry about fitting everything together, later. But this one amplifies everything that happened to after the trial...and does away with a part that seemed too ridiculous.

As a way to work out his anger over the case being prosecuted against him, Simon writes a story about the arresting office and the ADA becoming lovers, with the Judge watching them having sex. Initially, it was just for him, so he used their real names as he wrote.

But then...with the Judge's help, the ADA pulled a dirty trick on Simon in order to minimize some evidence he's presented showing the Cop was lying about his actions. So in anger, he posts it on a gay website.

This is all prelude to the scene I wrote. Simon's been found guilty and sentenced to 6 months in jail and a thousand dollar fine. Four months into his sentence, a friend of the ADA reads the story and tells him about it. It's even getting some excellent reviews. He goes to the jail to demand Simon remove it...and that ws the bit I wrote.

Nearly 1500 words and more to come, where Simon refuses, and reminds the ADA that since the story's been popular, it's probably been downloaded and shared so removing it would do no good. Things escalate and the ADA attacks him. The guards have to stop things. 

What surprised me most was how the guards quietly revealed they're on Simon's side. And they surreptitiously make sure the full jail knows Simon was injured by the ADA's attack. It causes a stir, and the Judge winds up releasing Simon early. Everyone thinks this is great...

Only it winds up leading to murder...

Avoidance...

I did errands, today, after a surprisingly good night's sleep. Recycling now gone. Dishes all done; they'd been piling up. Got fully dressed and drove to Wegman's to get things I needed to make a hoagie and an Ambrosia salad.

Had some California Roll sushi, while there...which is a big deal for me. I'm not a sushi fan, but this looked pretty good...and was. What's even better? I ate it with chopsticks. I want to get to be good so when I'm in Hong Kong I won't embarrass myself.

What's funny is, the main thing I needed was milk. So I got all these groceries...and forgot that. Have to go out for it, tomorrow.

The hoagie turned out nice. I used a short baguette, olive oil, cheese, slices of ham and turkey, lettuce, tomato, onion, dash of red wine vinegar, and a bit of mustard...and it wound up being too big. I ate it all, but I was stuffed. Don't like that, any more. I've got some smaller rolls for any followups. Haven't made the Ambrosia, yet.

I got the physical proof of A Place of Safety-New World For Old, and it looks good. Derry is due to be delivered on Monday, even though it was shipped beforehand. No surprise.

More ideas are coming for PvSH. Simon wants to actually needle Brian more. Not just that little poem, but even write an eroticc story and post it, to see if Brian or Elissa find it. He's sixty-nine years old and doesn't give a shit...and thinks this will be fun. He just doesn't realize him having proof of his innocence won't mean all that much once the trial gets going.

Or how far the prosecution will go to come out on top.

As usual...

All that work, yesterday, for nothing. A suggestion I made two weeks ago that was tossed aside suddenly became the way to go, meaning I'm not traveling, at all. Which, in reality, is good because it was going to be a difficult situation to deal with. So part of me is relieved.

BUT...part of me is pissed off. I've never been to Oxford and wanted to go. I'd have had a day there before continuing the trip, and it's always lovely to go places on someone else's money. 

That...kicked me into into a nasty mood...which Simon was enjoying. He's taken on more of an attitude, and now actually wants to snipe at Brian Walstead instead of ignore him and his associate, Elissa. Wants to piss them off. 

Before they enter the courtroom, Brian and Elissa technically surround Simon on a bench in the hallway. Initially, I had just Brian doing this and Simon refusing to engage with him. But now? Brian brings up Simon's gay adult poetry, thinking he'll put the man on the defensive, saying:

“We can use these things against you.”

Elissa almost smiled. “They could show inclination and maybe even intent. You might have been planning to do something to Officer Paley, once you got him to your hotel.”

Simon looked at her in awe. He’d actually thought she was smart. Instead, she’s the worst aspect of a team player, who knows what’s doing is wrong but puts her intelligence aside. Brian’s made his decision and she will back him up, like a dutiful wife or victim of abuse.

He sighed and said, “I’ll give you a list of my work. It’s not just on Gay Portal. There’s Plumbr. BDSM2. Gay sections. My blog on WordPlay has some of the more palatable ones, for you. Oh, and GayTrip as well as 2Queer2, too.” 

“You’re pretty cavalier about what these could do to you, in that courtroom,” Brian said. 

“Again, pay attention. My name is on them all. That should tell you something, not just how they found them so quickly. Google me and the first one that usually comes up is The Best Way to Make a Straight Man Gay. It’s been banned a few times. People thought it was a how-to manual.” 

Elissa tried to keep her voice snotty and mean, but Simon could sense surprise behind it. “It’s not?” 

He rolled his eyes at her. “Another reason you should read my work for yourself.” He turned back to Brian, smiling, “I wrote one little ditty that would fit you perfectly. 

Big bad boy Paley decided to gloat
That he’d seen how Brian would quietly dote
On him walking by, then he’d sneer and quote,
“So, Bri, it ain’t sex if I cum down your throat.”

Brian stiffened and all but snarled, “I’m not gay.” 

“As you say.” Then he put his portfolio in his backpack. 

“Simon,” he said, his voice low and growling, “if we don’t deal, here and now, I’m aiming for jail time.” 

“I prefer to be addressed as Mr. Halloran.” 

“I mean it. Six months to a year, thanks to the special enhancement. Thousand dollar fine.” 

Simon rose, laptop in one had, backpack slung over his shoulder, saying, “It amazes me that you graduated from Harvard Law. And passed the bar. Even taking into account you were just a legacy entrant. That school has lost all my respect for it.” 

Elissa circled Simon to return to Brian’s side. “You’ve been doing your own research.”

“And it’s better than yours, obviously. Courtroom’s open. I’m going in. I prefer you both stay away from me.”

Travel used to be easy...

I spent much of today working out a plan for possibly flying to the UK, specifically to go to Oxford and Belfast, and not only is it not cheap, it's not easy. Airlines' schedules are not meant for humanity. Rental cars are like gold, even if you get a stick. Ferries are inconvenient. Hotels are double the price because it's tourist season. It's damn near impossible.

I finally settled on a complete circle of a plan--fly into London, do Oxford, hop over to Belfast then down to Dublin and back home. Airlines do, at least, offer multi-city schedules...that often work out to be cheaper than direct back and forth.

One good thing is, this led Simon to tell me he wants to be a writer...and he's interested in poetry, not narrative. At least, I don't think he wants to do narrative fiction. But the poetry he does is very brutal and...well, it's pretty much punishment. Revenge. Reimagining his life in a way that he's not always a victim but instead a hero for himself.

Some of it was published on some gay threads and ADA Walstead finds out about it. He then makes a vague threat to use it against Simon if he doesn't take a deal. Suggesting that maybe he was planning to hurt Officer Paley in some way. Get him alone and drugged kind of thing.

I'm thinking of using a long form poem I wrote and posted some time ago, as Simon's work. Freddy. It's on the raw side and could be neatened up, a bit. But it fits.

Of course, Walstead's ploy doesn't work. The one real thing Simon has going for him is he's too old to give a shit, anymore. My name is on that work. That should tell you something. Rather like me and my gay erotica. I refuse to hide it as if I'm ashamed of it. That always comes back to bite you in the ass.

But it might be interesting to make up some more poems like that, for him...

Baby steps...

PvSH is coming out in small sections. Today I worked on Simon returning home from Barrington after the trial being continued for two weeks. He's all but proven the case against him is bogus, but ADA Walstead wants time to verify the evidence he presented. Just more tricks by the DA's office to protect some lying cops. But Simon is aware enough to know this will not go well.

I'm using a situation in NYC, some years back, as inspiration. A cop was in a small wreck and blamed the driver of the other car for hitting him. The driver was arrested, booked and threatened by the DA's office over a situation that should have been handled by a written citation. He was facing a couple years in jail if he didn't take a deal.

Thing is, there was a home security camera that caught the whole thing. It showed that the cop had gone the wrong way down a one-way street, was being forced to back up by an oncoming garbage truck, and he hit a legally parked car.

What's more, the man he arrested wasn't even the driver of that car. He was in the passenger seat and had to climb over to the driver's side to get out. And what did the DA's office do when face with this evidence? Fight it...then finally just dismiss the charges. And the cops are still on the beat despite filing a false report and lying under oath, as best I can tell.

There are stories like this all over the country, so I'm no longer worried about this seeming like it's crazy or overdone. I just need to make sure it reads right,

Anyway, this part includes Simon growing depressed and stopping to take a nap in a text stop on the freeway, where he remembers why he finally accepted that his lover, Doyle, was an abuser. Which was what made him quietly move to Houston. No word to anyone about where he's going...or maybe he'll lie about it. Not sure about that, yet, but that may make more sense.

So I guess I'm going to keep writing piecemeal until it starts to blend together.

Back to the writing grind...

While part of me wants to take off from writing for the rest of the year, PvSH is making itself a nuisance. I wonder how the cops find out where Simon is staying after he's finally been freed from jail? Well, up pops a podcast reporter who tried to interview him. He was told where to locate Simon by his sister-in-law, who works for ReShawn's law firm, Kaplan, Wilde, and Green, and is homophobic.

Of course, Simon won't talk to him, so the reporter goes to one of the cops involved in the case, to get his side, and inadvertently lets him know Simon's whereabouts. A snippet of which winds up as part of the man's podcast.

ReShawn sees the podcast, can't get in contact with Simon and finds the gravesite. He calls in the state police and they call in the reporter, who is live-streaming when he arrives...and is ecstatic at seeing Simon's body. It means his podcast will now go viral.

The state cops keep everything low-key, so the local cops don't know about the murder investigation until the live-stream explodes across the web and they're asked about it. Fun, fun, fun.

What this brought up is, how does ReShawn find Simon's body? Through an AirTag. He has one in his backpack due to a theft situation. The jail's guards claimed they didn't know where it was, when he tried to reclaim it after being released, so he used ReShawn's Iphone to track it and force them to get it out of the property room. Money in his wallet's gone and his laptop and phone are busted, but he doesn't cause a scene. He just wants to leave. And ReShawn uses that to lead him to Simon's grave.

I also rewrote Simon's death scene. Made it his POV...and it's...well, I'm going to make it as close to poetry as I can. Dream-like. It ends the chapter...and really the second act of the book...and I want it to kick ass.

So...The People v. Simon Halloran is moving along, despite me. I both love and hate when that happens.

Website work

Here are the new synopses I worked up for APoS' three volumes:

APoS-Derry

Derry, Northern Ireland, 1966 

Partitioned from Ireland since 1921 and dominated by Protestants, the Catholic minority has grown weary of the casual discrimination against it and begun a push for equal rights. One- man-one-vote. Decent housing. Good jobs. The most basic of requests. Yet these are still too much to accept, for those in power. Protests, confrontations and demonstrations erupt, growing more and more dangerous and violent. 

Caught in the middle of it all is Brendan Kinsella, a Catholic boy who is thought of as ... odd. The third of six children, he is quiet and observant, with an innate wariness and skepticism, and prefers to go his own way, even though that leads him into trouble, on occasion.

The story begins with the murder of his father just days after Brendan's tenth birthday. He is not sorry the man is dead; he was a vicious drunk who kept the family in extreme poverty. However, the man was killed by a pair of Protestants, which made him a martyr to Ireland and set Brendan’s mother, Bernadette, on an expanding path to Irish Nationalism. And she is dragging his older brother, Eamonn, with her.

Brendan, however, is reluctant to fall in line. So Bernadette constantly berates him as simple-minded, despite his knack for repairing just about anything, and seems unwilling to accept he just wants to live his own life.

Despite his efforts to remain apart from the growing turmoil, Brendan gets caught up in the countless civil rights demonstrations in Derry; the Battle of Bogside, where Catholics forced the Protestant Police Force out of their neighborhood; the arrival of British troops to separate the warring factions; internment without trial; and Bloody Sunday, when Paratroopers massacred Catholic marchers.

Mingled into this is Brendan’s budding relationship with Joanna, a Protestant girl from a well-off family. A relationship that must be kept secret to prevent any reprisals. She is pretty, fun to be around, has a life of relative ease, and is certain she is bound for university. She helps him see there is more to this world than hate and distrust, that his hopes, wishes and dreams could become reality, and they might still find a place of safety, even as their world careens into chaos. 

APoS-NWFO

1973, Houston

Seriously injured by a horrific bombing, Brendan is caught in an Akinetic Catatonia, where he is barely aware of what is going on around him. The Provisional IRA wants him dead because they think he tried to warn the targets of the bombing. The British Army believes he helped set the bomb and wants to interrogate him.

But a scribbled note he left for his mother, the UK passport he had just received, a job offer on a ship in Cobh, and the train ticket he had purchased, one-way to Dublin, all suggest he’d left town prior to the explosion. So that is the story all parties settle on.

In truth, while his wounds were being tended to, it was discovered he was born with a heart condition that needs attention. So he was snuck into the US using the name Brennan McGabbhinn, a distant cousin who died as a child, under a medical visa.

Kept hidden in an attic room in Houston, Texas, Brendan slowly mended out of sight of everyone except his Aunt Mari, Uncle Sean, and cousins -- Scott, Brandi, and Bernadette. But while Brendan’s body may be healing, his mind is still torn by horrific memories of that day; the understanding that Joanna, the girl he loved more than anything, is dead; that his family’s still caught in the brutality of The Troubles; and that he is not allowed to contact them.

In an attempt to regain his center he starts to repair items for the neighborhood help – irons, toasters, lawn mowers and the like. He also develops tentative friendships with Everett, a graphic artist, and Jeremy, a high school friend of Scott’s. And while he is not fond of the extreme heat and humidity of a Houston summer; he begins to believe he has found a place of safety in a city of wealth and promise.

But soon he comes to realize that appearances can be deceiving...and promises are not always kept.

APoS-HNH

Derry 1981 

Brendan is called home to see his mother before she dies of cancer. Using the chaos of the hunger strikes, he sneaks into Derry despite knowing the British forces still want to interrogate him over the bombing that injured him.

Now he must navigate the anger growing around him, even as he discovers he's been lied to about Joanna, learns his father may have been far more than a simple drunken brute, finds his youngest brother, Kieran, hates him, and he is caught in a very casual betrayal that could easily kill him.

Yet in the face of the growing turmoil and exploding violence he continues to fight to determine the direction of his life.

I took a day...

...And ignored the world. Well, pretty much. I was ensconced in my bed under the covers, with a nice chill breeze going outside and window cracked enough to whistle at me, using my art board to prop my laptop on, when I think about getting a lap table. I check online, and Michaels has them for under $10.

So I hop up, shower (since I didn't, last night), and drive the 4 miles over there. And get one. Then I think about a nice back cushion like I used to have, years ago, and find that at a store next door. And now I'm home and re-ensconced in my bed using the table and my cushion and feeling very cozy. I even have a cup of tea on the night stand.

My ass is getting to be a bit sore, but everything else is great.

I'm pulling together information for a guy I know to work up a website for me. Got samples. Got suggestions. Got links to Smashwords and Ingram Distribution. And got my last book cover set for APoS-HNH. Just waiting on the Kirkus review...which won't show till June 19th, according to their site.

Tomorrow's laundry so I won't have a chance to repeat this till early afternoon, but I'm enjoying it. I've started a beef/vegetable soup on the stove that's at the point of simmering. It's a holiday weekend so there is nothing that needs to be done for Caladex...though I did update the anticipated cost of flying down to DC for another pickup and flying home. Not much change. Just waiting for the dates the client wants. Last word was, it'd be in August.

Something I neglected to do while out was get the makings for tacos. I may need to hop over to a grocery store, tomorrow, for that. We'll see.

Careful what you eat...

I made some macaroni salad about 10 days ago, with carrots and green pepper and pickles and onion, and even threw in some chopped olives, mixed in some mayo and chopped eggs. I like how it tastes. Kept it in the fridge...but apparently it doesn't keep as well as I thought it would. I had some for lunch...and got sick a couple hours later. Which probably means I'd left it out for too long, sometime.

I wound up taking some Imodium to calm things down, and threw out the last of the stuff. Not what I needed, right now. I hate wasting food. So now I'm sitting in bed under some covers, feeling sorrier than usual for myself. And doing nothing. I've begun to think I'm just burned out with writing, for right now.

Well...I'm not quite doing nothing. I spoke with a guy I know who can work up a website for me. I just need to find an example of the kind I want to start him off. What I'm looking for is a simple site that will have an image of my books, a short logline, a pdf to download with a sample of the book, and links to buy the book at Smashwords and Ingram Direct. Build my promotional campaign off that.

But I can't find anything similar to it to show him. In the writing groups I belong to on FB, the writers all use the groups' blogs to link to Amazon for everything. I don't do Amazon, and none of them seem to have standalone web pages...so I have to keep looking.

I'm sleeping better, at least. And dreaming in the usual way, where I know I did but can't remember it enough to write it down. Except for one, this morning. One that sort of continued one I've had before, I think. In an airport that's like a Vegas Casino and no one is wearing shoes and I'm trying to find my gate but the bus has already left...the usual nonsense that makes sense while you're dreaming.

I almost got a couple of packing jobs in Belfast and Oxford, but the more I learned about them, the less likely it seems they'll happen. Just 6 boxes in Belfast, and might already be in bankers boxes. I've asked for more information, but they seem reluctant to provide it. So the universe is fucking with me, on top of me being in burnout.

I'm trying...

But not really succeeding. I haven't been sleeping well, the last couple nights, which makes my moods more difficult to deal with, and today the viciousness of the world just washed all over me. 

So I simply don't want to do anything. And that's a sign of depression, isn't it? Or is it just that I'm too much of an empath and the cruelty of people is finally cutting past my defenses?

I looked up what an empath is, to make sure I understood it right, and it's a person highly attuned to the emotions of others, often experiencing them as intensely as their own. Meaning not only can they understand the emotions of those around them but also physically feel them, absorb them, take them on and feel them like they're their own.

What made me think this was seeing clips from the battlefield of Putin's invasion of Ukraine. Russia sends her men out to be slaughtered in a meat-grinder of death, some of them not even physically capable. That's awful, but what mitigated the evil of that in my mind was knowing about some of the horrors Russian soldiers have inflicted on the people of Ukraine. Evil, evil things. Inhuman.

Ukraine's fighting back in ways far more technologically advanced, using swarms of drones to kill the advancing forces. And this one clip showed soldier after soldier being tracked down by a drone...and running and trying to hide and waving off the drone and doing everything they can to keep them away...until it blows them to bits. Over and over and over.

I could feel those men's terror and desperation through the videos. Men who may have done unspeakable acts to civilians in Ukraine...yet I hurt at seeing them die. It's so cold and uncaring...even though it's probably the only way they'll be able to keep Russia from overrunning Ukraine and doing even more horrible things to her people. Like they have in the past. But I can't reconcile the horror of what I'm seeing with the need for it.

There's also the bill the House just passed, cutting Medicaid, SNAP, environmental protections and so much more. Which will cause untold suffering and death in America, and the MAGAt Class cheers while Democrats dither and lecture and whine. It's like we're trapped in a runaway train with no brakes and the end of the track in sight.

So PvSH is sitting there waiting for me to get back to it...and I just can't. I just can't.

Wellness...sort of...

I pretty much stayed away from social media and the news, today. It only pisses me off. Instead, I reviewed the e-proof of APoS-NWFO and found it's fine so approved it for sale on May 27th. Derry is now available through all the big boys, but also direct from Ingram at a discounted rate. That only works in the US and UK, but it's something to keep the price down for most people.

Working with Ingram and selling through a group like Amazon, I have to price the paperback copies high in order to make even a dollar a copy. Some of the older books, I'm not even making that much. Linking straight to Ingram to buy is a much better deal for seller and buyer, at 20-25% off the price.

I may order a dozen of each title, once Home Not Home is up and see if I can get local book shops to carry them on consignment. And I'm going to check and see if the public library would be open to adding the hardcovers to their stacks.

I spent hours trying to set up a website on WordPress, myself, for APoS hardcovers...and it looked okay, but when I hit Publish and tried to see it without having their website builder open, it just goes to the Let's get started page. None of what I did shows up. It does when go back into the builder, so I'm missing a step, somewhere. But I've watched Tutorial videos and got downloads of step-by-step manuals that do not really fit the current form of WordPress, and I cannot figure out what I did wrong.

I already know I'm technologically inept; no need to rub my face in it.

FWIW, I also wrote 1200 words for People v. Simon Halloran...known as PvSH, from now on.

Cover for the 2nd volume

Step by step I'm closing in on the finish of publishing A Place of Safety. Soon I'll just need to figure out how to sell it. I know I'll never make my money back on it, but that's not important. Having the story out and available is. So next comes publicity.

I'm already publicizing it in Ingram's catalogue. And I'm planning a website where I'll have it done for me because I suck at designing one. Clumsy and simplistic is my high end.

I'm taking tomorrow off from social media. It's too fucking depressing and wrecks my will to create in today's political climate. I know enough history to understand shit like what the MAGAt Class is pulling has been happening since the dawn of civilization...I even reference it at the end of Home Not Home when Brendan talks about the story of the Six Nations in Canaan, sometimes called the Seven Nations. They used God as their excuse to exterminate entire peoples, and wrote that as if it was a good thing.

Something else...in 2018 I wrote Underground Guy, a murder mystery being told by Devlin Pope, who is not a sweet kind man. One part of it deals with an asshole like DJT-Jr ripping off Devlin's family and nearly driving them bankrupt, as well as almost driving his brother to suicide.

What Devlin does to get their money back is NSFW, but prior to it is a meeting between him, the asshole (whom I named Griffin Faure), and their lawyers...where Faure's side lies and threatens and stonewalls...but finally agrees to a partial settlement. Not because it's the right thing to do but because Devlin uses their own lies against them. Gets just as hard in their face as they're getting into his. Even so, it's only enough to keep his company solvent till they can regroup.

This stemmed from stories I'd heard about Felon47 driving contractors bankrupt, to the point a couple killed themselves. That's 7 years ago and fairly well-known, yet the MAGAt Class still worships that man, despite how he's hurting them. I've come to see it's a defect in the human race to be like this. To follow the liar and spit on those who tell the truth...and that really depresses me.

The legend of Cassandra also comes to mind, and that's from before the Trojan War. So I'm working on uploading New World For Old to Ingram and prepping the website, tomorrow, and ignoring the world as best I can. I need the time to regroup, emotionally.

Fucking life...

Not much writing done, today. My doctor called. I may need to have my gall bladder removed, something learned when a scan was done of my liver...which is also not in great shape. I have a polyp in the former, along with gallstones, and the latter is fatty to a bad degree. Scarred and in need of time to repair itself.

Which pisses me off. I don't really drink, maybe a beer with lunch or dinner, now and then. Never did drugs...though I did try pot, once, but it messed with me like cigarettes did, so I never smoked. Either of them. I'm not very active but I'm not inactive. And while I'm not a great lover of salads, I've eaten more in the last six months than I had in the previous six years. And all I lost was five pounds and my body's taken a fuck you attitude.

All this denial and aversion to fun and games, for nada. I could've been an alcoholic writer blaming his craft for his drinking problem. Or artist using LSD to bring him visions for his canvas. Instead, I'm an old fart who's falling apart and have to fight to create decent stories, now. Makes me very grumpy.

I remember one occasion, where I wrote the first draft of a script...Find Ray T...I drank a few beers a day for a week to see what I'd come up with. And it turned out pretty solid. The structure was set. The characters, too. Details have changed and aspects were enhanced for humor's sake, since, but if you read the first draft and compared it to the final draft, you'd be able to see one flowed from the other.

I could've done that so many times. Maybe I should try it, again. I think I drank Corona, that time. Or was it Dos Equis? One or the other. And I held down a steady job at Book Soup...or did I take a week off? I don't remember that part. I just know the idea of an actor forced to help the Mafia find a snitch who was in Witness Protection came from watching Johnny Depp on a talk show, revealing he'd met Joe Pistone, the guy who was Donny Brasco, to research his part...and it fell together.

I like how it turned out...humor, action, suspense, romance...but no one else was enthused.

New new title...

Okay, I didn't really like Simon's Murder as the title because it was too Agatha Christie-ish. So came up with The People v. Simon Halloran. It's more connected to the story, since the whole thing begins with Simon being arrested for a Class C Misdemeanor, with an enhancement. It's claimed the event was within 1000 feet of a school, so a physical arrest and booking is in order...even though it happens at midnight.

I expanded on the memory Simon has of Doyle, drunk out of his mind and finding him in Houston. Simon sees Kaposi Sarcoma lesions on Doyle's leg and hip and realizes he has AIDs. Doyle acts like he doesn't know, but there's no question. Apparently, the man wanted to pass that disease on to him, and that's when he decides to make sure he sees the bastard die.

In fact, he wants to make certain Doyle suffers through the entire disease. The whole process. Which can take a couple years. I have a hard time with him being this way...but I can't change Simon's reasons and meaning. He is what he is.

But what that memory does, coming after his laptop's been wrecked, is show how...when he decides to do something, he does it. And he decides to destroy the people prosecuting him. Which he does.

There won't be anything big and overblown in this story. No grand revenge. In fact, it's seeming more and more like Simon lets them destroy themselves through their arrogance, blindness and homophobia. Some may walk away less damaged, but no one will be unscathed.

Setting myself up for a real fun writing project...and already wondering how I can add humor to it to keep it from being too stark or bleak. Not easy; I don't do funny well.

Simon's Murder...

I wrote nearly 1600 words of a scene where the DA tries to talk to Simon during the lunch break of the trial, and it doesn't go well. Simon refuses to discuss a deal and his laptop gets damaged thanks to the DA grabbing at him. In the middle of the trial. Of course, the DA takes no responsibility for it.

But it brings up the moment when Simon decided, many years ago, to make certain he knew Doyle, his abusive ex-lover, died from AIDs. The man found Simon living in Houston and followed him home, drunk out of his mind, peed himself in the middle of Simon's kitchen, and wound up vomiting on a prized stereo setup. Ruined it. And that is when Simon decided he had to witness the man's death for closure.

Which he does, but of course, it never works out exactly how you plan, does it?

I found this poem on Tumblr, I think...and it fits Simon. I copied it...but neglected to note who wrote it. Wasn't me...but it does speak to me...

and i think maybe i was designed to be alone.

like my heart was never meant to fit into someone else's hands,

like every love i have ever known was only meant to pass through me,

not stay.

maybe i was crafted with cracks too deep for anyone to fill,

with walls too high for anyone to climb.

i wonder,

was I always meant to be the one who watches from afar?

the one who loves deeply but is never chosen?

i watch the world around me,

see how people connect so easily,

and i wonder if something is wrong with me—

if there's a part of me that keeps me alone,

something broken that can't be fixed.

maybe i was made to be the one who understands

but is never truly understood.

maybe i'm just meant to listen but never be heard,

to love but never be loved the same way.

maybe my heart was made to hold more than it should,

to hurt in silence while the world keeps going,

not even noticing.

if that's true,

if i was meant to be alone,

then i just hope i can learn to accept it.

APoS-Derry cover

It's settled. This is the paperback cover of A Place of Safety-volume one-Derry. It's been uploaded to Ingram and I should be getting a pdf proof in a few days. It took some back and forth, mainly because I didn't know what the fuck I wanted or how to achieve it, but I like this. Strong. Evocative. Dramatic. It fits.

Emily Jackson of Eliteminds LLC did a great job figuring out what I was asking for and was very patient with me and my adjustments. This is so much better than what I'd have developed.

I think this will be the template for volumes 2 and 3. I'll just change the flags used and the street scene for something of Houston and then of...hell, I dunno yet. Crowd scene from the hunger strike protests? Funeral? Still thinking on that.

With Simon's Murder, moments are starting to nudge me. Add this and do that and have something happen here instead of there kinds of things. Hearing about yet more cops getting away with murder around the US, and now even in the UK, I think my reticence about this story is way out of place. I'm going to make it as mean-assed as possible.

Got a scan of my liver, today, to check some things. I have a report of what they did or didn't do, or something, and I think it says I'm good. At least, not crashing to any problems. But I'll know more when my doctor calls to discuss it...if it needs discussing.

God, I'm tired of getting old.

Slouching towards a decision...

Regarding the current political chaos in Washington ... hell, around the world ... this poem comes to mind ...

The Second Coming 

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming!
Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know 

That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

It was written by Irish poet William Butler Yeats in 1919, after the end of WW1 and just as England was about to send the Black and Tans into Ireland to reassert their dominance. Didn't work. Just caused more death and destruction. But that's the stupidity of the political class and those in power. No connection to reality, and no memory of the past.

What this has led me to is that my next project will probably be Simon's Murder, the new title of Misdemeanor. It had started to scare me, when I was working on it, before, so I backed away. It still does. But I'm ready to go as deep into it as I must. No squirming about making it real, because a lot of me is going into Simon ... a lot of my anger. I hope people are ready.

I hope I am.

I did it, again...

I liked this mock up of the cover for APoS-Derry. The barbed wire was my suggestion...but apparently it gives people Holocaust vibes. Which works if you've already read the book, since the Bogside of Derry did become a near ghetto under the British...

BUT...

I want people to be interested in reading the book, and this cover wasn't gonna get them to do that. It's stark in the extreme. So I've decided to start over. Add some color...maybe in the outline of the title and my name. Dunno, yet. I've let the designer know and she's open to restarting. I just need to up my game.

Something else was reworking the info on the back cover into something that got a much more positive reaction. Here's what I did:

In this wrenching coming-of-age epic set during The Troubles, Northern Ireland’s civil rights turmoil of the 1960s & 70s, Brendan Kinsella was just a boy trying to keep himself apart from the worst of it. A savant at fixing things, all he wanted was to marry a girl he loved, raise a family, and live his life in peace. But history was exploding around him, and it had different plans.

“The arc of Brendan’s (growing) maturity is depicted with great subtlety and restraint by Sullivan (during) what came to be known as “the Troubles.” This is an engrossing and intelligent work.” BookLife 

 “Raw, pulsing with life and danger, and building to a hard-to-shake climax, this epic novel ... centers on Brendan Kinsella, “a lad filled with hopes and dreams and prayers and promises” in Northern Ireland during the tumultuous 1960s...” Kirkus Reviews 

 Kyle Michel Sullivan is a writer and self-involved artist who’s lived in London, Honolulu, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Houston, and a dozen places in-between. His artwork has been purchased by collectors, and he used to write screenplays, which is how A Place of Safety began life. But it expanded and became a three-volume novel about an Irish Catholic boy during The Troubles in Northern Ireland. His goal is to build characters as vivid and real as possible.

Shorter and more involving, I think...I hope...

I don't understand the writing process...

Never have. I come at writing a book or screenplay from all sorts of angles...plotting it out in detail and not, character lists both detailed and not, jumping in with no idea beyond the basic premise, using an old book to ground it...and it always works the same. The characters take over and do things i wasn't planning on...things I hadn't even thought of.

With APoS, in Derry I made reference to Brendan's father telling stories in exchange for a drink, but being a drunk and never able to tell his kids those stories because he was too drunk. So Brendan never believed he was any good. That was my only point, for it.

Until in Home Not Home he learns some of his father's stories were recorded on tape, and finally hears him tell one, and it's elegant. It changes him...and helps his brother, Eamonn. And sets up his own decision to tell stories, as well...and does.

That was something that was referenced in New World For Old. Not directly, but Everett and Jeremy share their stories with Brendan. Other people talk about themselves, a bit, but those two reveal their own realities to him. And he listens.

None of this was in the original drafts of volumes 2 and 3. They grew from within, almost organically, without conscious thought by me. I make jokey little comments about touching the ether of creation and having a muse to lead me, in my characters and the paths they choose to follow, but in truth none of this is deliberate or calculated. It just happens.

And has, over and over, if I want to be honest. Once I settle down and truly listen to the characters, they show me what is meant to be. And I have no idea where that comes from. 

Clarification...

I should say, I used to have a website through GoDaddy, but it was very basic and never really helped me in any way. Now they all have droplets and videos and slide shows and nonstop graphics, none of which I can do. Nor do I want to. I want someone to do something complex and lovely, like this...sketching with light...for free.

Isn't that just my way?

I've settled on a graphics designer for my covers. So I've been pulling together the information I want to go on them...front, spine and back. The log line under the title on the front, a short synopsis and couple of review quotes on the back, with some credits for who did the design and my company logo.

Price is a lot better than I thought it would be. I was hoping to hear from some people in Houston before I settled, but they haven't gotten back to me, yet, so it's decided. I still have a change to make to the cover style, but overall...it'll be good. And is a lot better than I could have come up with.

I dug through the reviews I got through BookLife...and one comment stopped me cold. From New World For Old...Again, the narrative voice is intimately insistent, touched with music, frank about dark feelings and events...

That helps minimize my insecurity about what I've done with this story. My self-confidence is not great, here, and reminding myself of what others have said about it wipes away a lot of doubt.

I dug a bit more into the service that will work up a website, in WordPress, and found I already have the level of service I need for them. Of course, they're also offering a dozen other things to make it all better, but I want to see how this turns out, first. GoDaddy talked me into spending hundreds of dollars for things than I could not make use of.

Of course.

Am I stupid?

I tried out a couple of things on this cover, using my own Photoshop abilities, and I kind of like this. Keep the street scene, my name as it is, and the log-line under the barbed wire...but I think the lettering of the title should be outlined, to emphasize it. Then the barbed wire can wrap around the book and continue over all of them, really. That way I connect them.

I spent the rest of today trying to set up a site on WordPress that I can use to post links to buy my books, using their tutorials and explanations...and the best I could achieve was this. It looks really amateurish, but I could not get the images to let me embed a link to the sales sites in them, at all. And I do not like having the full address below them as the link because it looks clumsy.

WordPress offers a service where they'll build your site for $500, but may require I upgrade to a higher level of service to do it. Gotta think about that.

I'd let this just go by the wayside, but everything I read regarding selling my work has a website as being one of the most important aspects. And I don't have one. Nor have I really done as much as I could to get my mainstream books noticed, before now.

My gay erotica I can garner interest by posting those links on Tumblr and BDSMLR. I also got some sold off GayDemon. But nothing works on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

Granted, my writing does not bring in huge amounts of money; just enough to justify continuing it. But I was having fun with it.

I wonder if that's part of the reason for my malaise? I'm not really enjoying myself, anymore. It's become like a job.

Prep and research...

I've set up all my books with Ingram Spark Direct, including the hardcover of David Martin. Now they can all be purchased through Ingram at a discounted price. This is good for both the US and UK, and I think Canada but won't swear to that. Everywhere else has to order at full price through Amazon, WH Smith, or the like.

I also worked up a cheat sheet, of a sort, for them all. Easy cut and paste links for the ebooks as well as the physical copies. One for the gay erotica, one for the mainstream titles. Keep them separate, to an extent. Just need to find a place to post them.

I looked into a couple of options, online, but seems there are a lot of sneaks out there promising the moon then delivering nothing. Book.by and PayHip do not have stellar reputations, for example. And my experiences with GoDaddy were not great.

I guess I could set up a new blog on Tumblr...but they get nasty about erotica and flat out will not let me post a couple of my titles. I guess I could go for WordPress, but I know some people who use that and it seems kind of clunky.

God, my eyes are crossed, and that's just from trying to find a hosting platform. This is way out of my depth...

Meh...

Got my first suggestions back for the cover of APoS-Derry...and we are not impressed. One was a cameo of a boy's head with a sketch of barbed wire run along the bottom of the image, like a cute rendition of Auschwitz. I actually jolted at how wrong it was.

This is the other one: not really bad but not all that interesting, either...though I do like the image of the street. Maybe outlining the letters to emphasize them? Softening the edges of the block holding the title? Have barbed wire wrapped around the title and across the bottom, over my name...or under? A different font? Would that work? I dunno.

Maybe what I'm telling them I want is too confusing...

I’d like the title to read:
A Place of Safety
Volume One
Derry

Or something along those lines. With this as the tag line: "A young Catholic boy in Northern Ireland is drawn into the political tumult of the 1960s & ‘70s in this thrilling tour of an historically volatile conflict."

I don't want sketches. I prefer it be more dark and don't mind stark. I don't like busy imagery. I'm looking for something that is more immediate and intense.

Is that too vague? Too scattershot? Lacking in enough detail? I really don't know. How do I get across that I want something intense and captivating?

Another artist is working up something, so we'll see what they come up with. But shit, I can do as well as this, and I don't charge me anything.

Seeking...

I posted queries on a couple of writing groups I belong to, on Facebook, and not one of the people who responded had any sample of their work up in their profiles. They're all, "Hi, love to work with you on this..." but to find out what their style is, let alone their ability, I have to go through the whole respond and DM and accept DMs and then get links to their website.

Only to finally find out that while they do lovely art, half of it's been geared towards light works and children's books. Romantic-comedies. Sci-Fi. Personal improvement and spirituality.

I'm working with one to see what she comes up with for APoS-Derry, at her request. I've sent her links to the BookLife and Kirkus reviews, also the pdf of the template from Ingram, and let her know I don't want sketch-oriented or too busy, so we'll see how it goes.

I don't like people working on spec for me. I've done that as a writer and got taken serious advantage of. So even if I don't go for what she does, I'm paying her something. It's only right.

There's another one who's being more cagey, even though I've told her the same thing as the first illustrator. She might work something up to see what I think...but I'm not pushing.

I've put aside a bit of money for this. Not a lot but enough to cover the three volumes, I think. And I understand Ingram will work them up as a box set, if I want. No decisions made, yet.

I also need to work up a website. Something I can direct people to for all my books and links to buy them. Maybe even buy them through me. Which I could set up with PayPal. I guess.

I'm waiting for the final review to come in from Kirkus before I finalize anything. What I have done is connected all three hardcover volumes to Ingram Direct Sales and priced them each under $20, which is a lot better than $32.50. Cutting out the distributors saves a shitload of money...so long as you're buying them in the US or UK. Anywhere else is through the major online guys.

God, this would have been so much simpler if I'd been able to get a publisher to take them on...

Still blank...

I spent the day trying to work out a decent cover image for APoS' trilogy, and can't come up with anything that really excites me.

For example, Home Not Home. I spent hours prepping one using this photo of the Free Derry wall. I took it in 2002...and thought it might work, but it came out all wrong. Even with the image softened to 50% opacity and in monochrome, it was busy and confusing.

I tried removed the lamp posts and fencing, since those weren't there in 1981, but it didn't help. Nor could i find a good font for the title.

I've also thought about just using the title and my name on the front cover, colored in some combination of the Union Jack...but that's red, white and blue. Like the American flag. Northern Ireland doesn't have its own flag, like Scotland and Wales do. I'd have to do the Irish, which isn't really correct.

Another possibility is digging up images from each period to use as the background, then faking a cover that's been torn off in strips to reveal it, with the title on the remains of the cover. If that makes any sense. I dunno. Can't see the reason for it.

The hardback covers are a progression of Brendan from boy to damaged young man to lost soul, and I like how they turned out. But they're far more subtle than what I want for the paperbacks.

I guess I'll cast around in my Facebook groups and see if anyone is open to doing the covers for a nominal rate. I won't not pay them, but I haven't got all that much cash to work with.

Best laid plans...

In the world of Murphy's Law, soon as I gave myself space to think, work came roaring in. Three travel jobs -- one driving, two by air -- all expended beyond expectations. Then came assisting with paperwork for the NY Book Fair and, yesterday, Firsts London Book Fair, which messed with my me time.

I usually need lots of space with minimal disruptions to settle in and think about my next project, especially since my brain is all over the place, right now. Wasn't happening, so instead of even trying to kick back, with all that work, I focused on shifting all three volumes of APoS into paperback format, and set up the templates for the covers. But I still have no idea what the cover art will be.

And...I had one of my brilliant ideas: to emphasize the story Brendan dreams about him and Joanna living in a world without hate is the story he'll be telling to raise funds for the cause. This is how it could be, kind of thing.

That also worked into the reason he doesn't let her know he's still alive. He finally accepts what Father Jack and Colm have told him...that she was badly injured in the bombing and thinks he's dead, and it's better to leave that be. Knowing he's seen her like she now is would destroy her. So he backs away.

That meant updating the ebook and hardcover editions, as well, but now it's all done. I still found a few typos in each book, but I didn't bother correcting those.

One interesting thing that happened, just today, is I found out I'm a descendant from the Mayflower. By proxy. Robert Cushman, who helped arrange the voyage and was supposed to go along on a sister ship, is my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, on my father's mother's side. I doubt that counts in Boston, but it is a shock. And I now know that side of my family back to 1538, with Robert's father.

And that we're English, not Dutch, as I'd thought.