Well, hey there. How ya doin’? Oh, I see you’re reading this, so I’ll let you get to it…
A lot has been going on lately on the fiction writing front. I have been writing more than ever, with three stories subbed and waiting on razors and switchblades for responses. Just finished a novelette (shot for a short story, but got excited) and searching for a publisher that takes such rare things. Currently working on a zombie novella set in Tibet. I know, I know, those who know me have heard me say that I would NEVER write a zombie piece, you can spank me later. Don’t get me wrong, I love zombie stories, but I feel they are just too common now. But this concept I have intrigues my mad mind too much not to write it down, so I’m jumping on the zombie bandwagon (hmm that’s another idea, damnit).
Now the big news, at least for me, is the September 1 release of Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous of which my short story, The Long Death of Day, is a part. It’s my first accepted story (Mom! I’m a real life author now!) so I’m pretty damn pumped. Proud as can be to be part of such a well done anthology and published next to such horror writer gods as Mark Lawrence, Gene O’Neill, William Meikle, David Daglish, Gord Rollo, and Nick Cato. When I received the acceptance email from editor Tim Marquitz and saw who I would be hanging with, I think I pooped a little. Here’s an early blurb exclaiming it’s awesomeness:
“With it’s stellar lineup of authors and the great premise that gives them room to weave their magic, Fading Light accomplishes what far too many fail to: it stands out from the pack as something unique, terrifying, and wholly readable from first pages to last.” — Bryan Hall, author of The Southern Hauntings Saga and Containment Room 7.
Damn, I think I wanna read that! To read an excerpt from my story, scroll down.
To keep tabs on the upcoming release go to: http://www.facebook.com/FadingLightAntho
For those of you that remember Hellbug, my novel that I had been working on for over a year, well that’s been trunked. After sweating and bleeding over it for so long, I finally got up the gumption and the money to send it to The Editorial Department and into the capable hands of editor and friend R.J. Cavender. Let’s just say I learned alot of things, one being that I ain’t the badass writer I thought I was! Logic and severe POV problems abounded. But have no fear, I learned my lessons well and despite having taken some bruising in honing my craft, I’ll pull Hellbug out once again after getting some other projects done, and rewrite the cursed hell beast!
Ok, assignment done. When you finish the excerpt below, leave a comment, good or bad, and then let’s go have a beer.
Excerpt from The Long Death of Day by Timothy Baker, included in the upcoming Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous. Published by Angelic Knight Press and edited by Tim Marquitz.
The end of the Earth came not with a whimper or bang. No herald trumpets of angels filled the air in glorious announcement. Neither did the dead rise and walk to consume our flesh. It crept like a chilled blanket across our skies, dimming the warm light of the sun till the Earth turned dark. But that wasn’t the worst of it. With this unending eclipse came something from beyond the outer rim of our solar system; came as the ever hungry worms of a cemetery devour the newly buried dead.
And for all this, I had a front row seat.
My clock says it’s one in the afternoon, but looking out my wall size window I see only deep shadow beyond the wall of brightness coming from the floodlights that surround my house. Their children wander in that shadow, surrounded by an inky cloudy darkness they seem to emanate on their own, much like our earthly squid. In what number, I don’t know. Thousands. Perhaps millions by now. Eating whatever lives and breathes while their sky living elders scrape and devour the surface of the Earth.
Through my skylight the sun hangs, obscured in black, with only the edge of its corona shining like two facing slender shining coins. The sky is clear and stars hang there precariously, threatened by the howling chill wind outside. Beyond the mountains across the valley, a deeper shadow lines the horizon. It grows and spreads by the hour. It’s the unearthly cloud that contains them deep in its ever expanding belly, their bodies hidden from sight. Won’t be long now. The window shakes in its thick oak frame and I feel the Earth shudder beneath my feet…