- I’ve just finished my zombie infestation novel for teenagers Zombie Extermination Diaries. Agents and publishers, dare you to contact me to request the full manuscript (60,000 words) …
The zombies creep towards us, moving like injured spiders. I can see there are six of them as they come out of the shadows and into the moonlight. I reload my handgun and Syrus, beside me, does the same. The new magazines slot in with a metallic kerching.
- Then there’s Crow Magic, wherein a girl searches the Underworld for her lost crow brother’s soul. It was finished once, but it’s currently on the pile of things to rework. This one’s for adults.
The freezing eastern wind cut across the land, turning everything it touched to ice. As it passed it whispered a chill promise of eternal preservation from corporeal decay, as if anything caught in its witchery tonight would stand as silent monument ever after.
- Next comes Timberline, another work in progress. It’s all about forest, wolves, wolf children and the machinations of fate. Again, for adults.
Dusk was readying itself to fall, heralded by a cacophony of movement and sound. Birds tramped the foliage and let cry their pagan fears as the sun, long since lost behind the tree line, was slowly and by parts extinguished. A jay alighted upon a shadowed silver maple bough and cocked its head, as if listening for the coming storm, straining to hear the clouds gathering unseen to the west.
- Finally there’s Flatland Cannibal, which is yet another adult work in progress, a black comedy in the Southern Gothic tradition. In other words, it’s about an insane inbred.
They was scratching in the yard and I was watching them. It’s the way they scratch about and peck at what’s moving there but they ain’t even watching the ground.
- Not strictly a novel, but a series of picture books for young kids, called The Little Elf, about an elf and his woodland pals. Three of these are finished and good to go. Even got some illustrations.
The little elf sat in the wood on a toadstool by the pond, looking at nothing in particular. He wasn’t laughing, or smiling, or singing a happy song.
Just then a mouse scampered by.
“Hello, little elf,” she said. “You look a little glum.”
“Oh, hello there, mouse,” replied the elf. “Yes, I am a little glum today. I can’t think of anything to do.”
“You can help me find my nuts,” said the mouse. “I hid them somewhere safe, and now I can’t remember where they are.”
“Well what are we waiting for?” asked the elf, and he jumped down from his toadstool.”
If anyone would like to give me some money to finish these then that would be sweet.