Writing and Reading

It’s been a while since I’ve been back to share my poetry with you. Way too long. Welcome back, friends. I need to apologize real quick to one reader, also a friend, who keeps telling me my work can be, what’s the word, disturbing?

(laughs) I can’t help it. It’s like that league of superwomen blog chainers (you know who I’m talkin’ about, Kristal, Michelle, Elana etc etc.) with their latest topic about creative angst. Sorry to say–but sometimes the most intense writing comes out of hardship, struggle, rage, anger, fear.

Absorb this piece I wrote. I am a huge fan of rhyme and lyrical work, meter, all that jazz. It makes for beautiful pieces. It’s like music composition.

The subject matter, however, is not so beautiful….

“Addiction’s Soliloquy”

Desolate thoughts are dark shadows,
Silent and solemn as stone.
They bear the wretched throes
Like wasted youth alone.

Not one soul sees their sorrow
Nor one spirit able to hear.
Their hearts simply echo,
Fading endlessly in fear.

Hopeless humans lose their breath
And drift into the night—
And feel my choking death
Swallow all glowing, godly light.

Why does my love hate everything?
Forbidden, the good life must be,
As if the good life will sing
For a curious creature like me.

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If I were to personify any kind of addiction, I’d picture the persona this way–a “curious creature”. I do admit to thinking of drug abuse when it came to this poem. But, really, the work applies to all kinds of addiction. Once again, the rhyme, the lyrical aspect–got to love it, people!

I don’t go off topic much here. But sometimes I have to….

Yesterday, I had my son for the day. I also hadn’t seen my son in about a week. When I picked him up from daycare after work, the boy almost burned a trail into the ground running to me. He bear-hugged me harder than I had ever felt. The whole day, he was excited.

Then as I took him home…he fell asleep in my car. He was really excited. Apparently.

The last time I saw my little boy sleep like that…. That was too long ago. I couldn’t stop looking at my little boy sleep. It’s one of those things I’ll always miss. That is, until I get my own place with his own room.

Aaaaaaaaaanyway…before I get too emotional, I’ll simply say that I had to sadly wake him up once I made it to his home. I brought him in, and he gave his mommy a hug. That’s my boy.

As I was about to walk out, telling my boy I loved him…he started to cry. It was probably because he was still tired. Maybe. In the end, it didn’t matter why.

What really mattered was the effect it had on me. I looked into my boy’s sad eyes, told him I loved him–he responded likewise–and I left. I got in my car.

And my tears fell as well. I hate leaving him….

I’m sorry. I’m allowed to be a schoolboy here. Even if it has to do with disturbing things (hello, people–I am a professing Christian). But I just had to write this post. I’ve got a story to tell you people.

Sit around, kiddies.

Almost a year ago, as I was writing THE CAIN LETTERS, I found it fascinating that, in actuality, in this present world, this very reality we live in, there is, indeed, a real community of vampires living with us today (and I’m not referring to HBO’s ingenious marketing for the series “True Blood”).

Real vampires.

This was somewhat of a basis for the novel. I wanted to somehow tie in to the real world the real basic nature of what we all know as vampirism. And not in a purely ‘fictional’ aspect either. Of course, the book still mantained the basic urban fantasy equation as far as the characters were concerned. But for those who’ve already read my book, you might know what I’m referring to.

A few days ago, I came across this wonderfully awesome dual clip of the Tyra Banks show, a Halloween special–featuring–

VAMPIRES

And who do I see featured in her episode as a guest? Watch these two clips….

Let me elaborate. You just watched an in-depth look at the man known as Don Henrie. The vampire Don. As stated in the show, also known as the “Vampire King” or as Don mentioned, the “Emperor”.

For those who read my book, I mentioned Don in one scene. It was a very central scene. Naturally, though, I felt it prudent to e-mail the actual person for his permission to use his name in my book. That’s right, people. I e-mailed a ‘real-life vampire’.

Don Henrie prudently e-mailed me back with a resounding, “My answer is yes.”

And I immediately felt chills. Oh, my gaaaaaaaawwwd. A real vampire talked to me. A real vampire endorsed my work. Oh, my gaaaaaaaaaawd.

He also asked that I keep him posted on the progress of my novel. I responded, happily writing that I’d be glad to send him a free copy if it ever debuts in stores. My dream lived just a bit more after that exchange. That was about seven months ago.

If you’re reading, Don, I’m still submitting. I’m still working. Hopefully, THE CAIN LETTERS will make it in print. ‘Cause I got a promised copy waiting for you!