So where do ideas come from? I don’t think that is the question. Ideas are everywhere. All you have to do is get out of your home, get off your phone and look at what’s going on around you. Keep a notebook with you and write things down. I find there are way more ideas than time to develop them. What I wonder about is all the stuff that comes after the idea. Suddenly you are writing about people that never existed that you sometimes put in real places and sometimes made up places. The book I’m writing now takes place on Block Island. As I write I need to step inside the world I’m creating. I have to feel the air, smell the air, touch the world my characters are living in. That means reading about the place, gathering facts, maps, histories and anything else that might matter. I make a lot of notes, flag pages in books and basically devote a shelf in the library to all the topics involved in the story I’m writing.
Publication of The Robin Randle Stories will be in December 2018. Currently a second Robin story is underway. Book 1 – (the original novel) is now titled- “In The Region Where Madness Dwells • During the Time of Shadows” a Robin Randle Story. Book 2 – “Legends of the End” a Robin Randle Story Coming […]
As preparations get underway for the release of the first Robin Randle story I want to give folks a heads up on things.
Fear has been with us from the begging of our existence. Fear is a healthy response to places, people and situations that could lead to injury or an untimely death.
During the Time of Shadows
I was closing on the tower. It was round with a pointed roof cap a good four stories above me. It was completely black but not like dirty stone streaked with ages of dust storms and polluted air, no it shined in the tepid moonlight reminding me of obsidian. No, it was obsidian and the surface was covered with ancient words. As hard as it was for me to believe, the tower looked to be one single piece of stone carved into this shape. As I approached, it loomed overhead shining black like the natural glass it was. This tower had been forged in the heart of a volcano and born perfectly formed just for this purpose. The writing had been etched with painstaking accuracy onto the tower’s glass surface then fused with a power that made the
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