Since the day I decided to write Minor King, marketing it has been the elephant in the room. But something that I knew had to happen. How to set up the website so I could let people know when and where to access the story? How to make the art compelling enough for people to want to look closer? How to establish a presence in all the right distribution channels? How to mobilize friends to help spread the word? Etc., etc. It’s…
The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book, Minor King. This is from Chapter 14, where the protagonist, Jim Christianson, is confronting his wife Tabitha who was released from her job at a law firm the day before. *** In all the years I’d known her, I’d never heard her say one “off” remark about life in the system. It took her getting canned by an arrogant man who maintained a position of power because of money. I wanted…
My upcoming fiction novel Minor King is the story of a writer who awakens from a comfortable life to see the world for what it really is–a gauntlet of contradictions that keep him from realizing his true purpose. The protagonist, Jim Christianson is a miracle. A man who lost his way only to find himself at the edge of his life too soon. As the end closes in around him, he is plucked from the darkness by the voice of God–and his life…
I started writing a novel last October, after hitting a wall with a play I was working on. The idea for the play was (is) really solid, but I was focussing so much on scenes and sets that it became tedious, and so I put it down. Putting the play down, however, didn’t mean that the creative energy just disappeared. I’d had an idea for a book for a few months, and decided to push my energy in that direction to…
I am leaving home soon to head into the mountains, alone, to finish my first novel. It’s something like a dream. I’ve been writing a story called Minor King for about a year. It’s slow going. I’m about 20,000 words in, and have found that when you work full-time and have an active family life, that it’s a little hard to find the time to sit still and let the muses take over your heart and brain. I’m not making…
July 1991. Flushing, New York. I was roused awake by a hammering at the door. I jumped up, and quickly fell backward onto the couch. The clock in the corner flashed 9:21. I stood again, took three steps across the room, and opened the door to find a mountain of a man in the doorway. “Jimmy!” the man said, pushing open the door and walking inside. “Howa you doin’ this morning Jimmy?” It was Jack, my sponsor from Alcoholics…
