My current projects include:
The Case of the Little Green Man
When a young medical student’s sister is kidnapped by a light in the sky, she turns to hard-boiled detective Wolfe Miller for help in this 9,800-word novelette.
The Case of the Little Green Man is complete, and currently on submission.
Blue Eyes in the Heart of Midnight
In this 3,200-word short story, former lovers David and Tamika are brought together again by circumstance, only to find that the strife which drove them apart still stands between them.
Blue Eyes in the Heart of Midnight is complete, and even though it won honorable mention in Q3 2015 Writers of the Future I’m not sure where it’ll end up. It’s a little too literary for most scifi markets, and a little too speculative for most literary markets. Eventually I may put it on Wattpad.
In this 4950-word short story, a terrorist on the lam needs a new identity, but in a future of pervasive surveillance that means more than just stealing a driver license out of someone’s wallet.
Identity Theft is complete, and currently on submission.
In a drought-stricken, post-American California, a young woman has to escape from a gangster. She may have an otherworldly ally.
Ricochet is complete at 2344 words, and currently on submission.
In the distant future, a scientist assigned to design a weapon against an alien species has his mind on targets closer to home.
King Hereafter is complete at 2446 words, and currently on submission. And yes, I named it after a line in Macbeth.
And His Little Dog Sparko
A diner hosts a late-night rendezvous between aliens, but an unexpected customer sends things awry.
And His Little Dog Sparko is a second draft at 3250 words.
This piece is somewhere between Neuromancer and The Matrix, but told from the machines’ perspective.
Salvator Mundi is an attempt at a novel-length work, and I cranked out a draft before I started developing my voice. That was an important learning experience, but said draft is so bad that when I load the file into my word processor the stink becomes a tangible object which fills my office with the aroma of a burning garbage truck full of hospital waste and dead skunks. It’s tempting to trunk this one, but the plot’s mostly solid and I like the concept too much. I’m planning to start over with mostly-new characters and try again.
“Remember this, too: all bad writers are in love with the epic.”
-Ernest Hemingway, Death in the Afternoon.
Star Crossed more of a magnum opus than a traditional novel. It’s hard to encapsulate in a blurb. It’s a long story in the extreme, and hopefully a lifetime is enough time to finish it.
Star Crossed isn’t about making something for others, and it’s probably never going to be commercially viable. This is what I write when I get tired or discouraged with writing. Even if nobody else ever reads it, and it turns into my own personal Realms of the Unreal, it will be enough to have created it. I’d like to think that’s the purest definition of art: something beautiful someone created for no other reason than wanting it to exist.