The writings done the baby born five months of painful paragraphs and haunted by commas and full stops, scenes emerging from insidious places and characters being polished or demolished with uncanny accuracy scenes unfolding and moving slowly though transient prose and articulate poetry down twenty nine chapters and a hundred thousand words telling a story of gripping interest I finished at last.
The galley arrives in a red cardinal cloak of crystallised chrysanthemums graced by a beautiful girl who smiled demurely at the photographers asking and the flash captured her radiance for the book cover.
Done at last and out to market she now goes driving experts around with crafted tricks to sell the books through any means and make a buck for themselves.
Here I sat in this warm paperbag writing space carving words in an endless stream enjoying the river gathering not allowing to burst its banks and cause floods of words and unnecessary meanderings keeping the water tight within the dam of chapters and structures so readers could enjoy a careful display of novelty and task as they read every line looking for the essence of the language some searching for faults others for ecstasies.
There are two more books to spit and polish and send them packing to the editors who will take a magnifying glass to demystify the populated characters.
The power built up from being on this site reading a hundred poems a day for 4 long months and absorbing all the richness and variety that hundreds had to offer.
My time here is done. Now I must move on to write the Magnum Opus.
Author Notes
Check out my first Novel: The Chrysanthemum Trilogy: Transition