Seems every time I post I’m apologizing about the interval of time since my last entry. I’ll just say it’s been a trying time in my life and though it’s been quiet, I’m plugging away in the background on multiple projects. I made some promises I honestly haven’t kept and frankly shouldn’t have made while such calamitous life events are in play.
I said I’d have The Lost Pages of Trevor Sunburn in print around June. This didn’t happen A. Because I’m uncertain how I want to have this one distributed yet and B. I’ve simply been fucked up. This still might come out in 2012, the damn thing’s been done for years now, but I can’t say at this second precisely when. I’ve seen interest and I really want to get it out there, so stay tuned on that.
I said I was going to start two new books this year, simultaneously, and this still might happen once I get through The Skin Collection, which is over 3/4 complete, so with any luck I’ll have the first complete draft done in a couple months.
In the meantime, thanks for the patience and thanks so much for all the support, in not only my passion of writing, but in my personal life as well. And so I’ll leave you with a random email I stumbled across this morning, that I sent to myself over a year ago, which was the start of what was to become a novella at the time. I’d almost forgotten about it. So here it is in it’s raw, unedited worst 😉
LOOKING FOR HEAD
The head was lost. Gone. Fucking misplaced. How do you lose a head? A talking head? My guide and my only source of companionship; the only thing keeping me sane on this dreadful planet—if you can call conversing with a talking head sane—was lost.
Somewhere in Gallows Cavern the rope holding the sack holding the head had come undone and in the chaos I hardly noticed the head no longer spoke. But now the silence is deafening and the irony of the rope undone in Gallows Cavern was not lost on me, unlike the goddamn head. It was gone alright and I have to go back to retrieve it.
How did I get here in the first place? Well the short story’s this…
They were experimenting with the folding of space and it worked, but the result landed us in an uncharted section of space and the trip drained all of the ships power, forcing us into an emergency landing on the nearest rock—this one—where I was the only survivor of the crash. We were the test crew, i.e. expendable, a.k.a. fucked from the outset, and now they’ll know it worked to the extent of a one way trip worst case, best case figuring a way to get us back, but my guess is they’ve already given up and sent a second or even third ship to oblivion or success. They didn’t care if we survived the trip. They only wanted results, however small and at any cost and that’s precisely what they received, at our expense. But the world will never know this. It was an experiment of the highest level of secrecy.
And with the head lost I’m utterly alone, which is why I’m going back for it.