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Thursday, May 5, 2016

Updated Cover for the "Sophistan Children of Earth"

I thought I was done with the cover I illustrated for my new book but I couldn't resist messing around with it. So now I have added a bit of "sparkle" to it.

#illustration #scifi #fantasy #HarryPotter #magic #literary #fiction #gifted 

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Cover for "Sophistan Children of Earth"

I've been working on the #cover for the "Sophistan Children of Earth" which I am currently writing. I always like working on the cover early because doing the artwork really helps me focus in my writing and work out the focus of the novel. I've a very visual person which is sort of an ironic trait for an author. The blood dripping of the word "Earth" lets you know that this will be a rather intense novel. Children just want to be children but having extraordinary talents can get in the way. Especially when some on Earth become jealous or fearful of them and want to take apart these children to find out where those talents come from.

Let me know if you think seeing this cover in a bookstore would encourage you to pick up the book and give it a look!

#scifi #fantasy #literary #fiction #HarryPotter #gifted #illustration

Sunday, April 24, 2016

The Sophistan Children of Earth

"The Sophistan Children of Earth" will be the title of the rewrite of ‪#‎book‬ #1. Here is the book ‪#‎blurb‬ for the new book:
Why, Mom and Dad, didn’t you tell me… Even the ants hate my blood as the bullies pound me. The others say I have to be a super-child—a warrior. My love, Amy, will grow up, having someone else’s children—having mine would kill her from the inside; I am immortal. Stefan, shunned by his mom, beaten by criminals—his power is frightening. His older girlfriend protects us from black-op crazies, hostile aliens… everyone wants us dead. Sometimes I wish they would succeed. My young friend, Ty, wields the power of secret aliens; his magic wand is his life’s core. Why does the incorporeal Sophistan1, seventy-three light-years away, care about us? We are the first Children of Sophista to emerge. I hope the future ones know some good games.
Since this book is written in a ‪#‎literary‬ ‪#‎fiction‬ style, it delves into each of the characters lives in a lot more detail than the original book. The reader gets a strong feeling of how it feels to be one of these supernatural kids from the kid's point of view.

This book is considerably more #intense and #dark than other books containing children. Other children recognize the how odd these kids are and they torment and bully them. Adults try to make these children compliant to their every wish by trying to crush their free spirits. The governments and rulers of present day Earth recognize that the power these children possess means that they could one day rule Earth and are thus a threat to their power structure. In some cases, they try to kill the children while they are still vulnerable. There are a few adults who wish to help and protect them. Some of them wish to manipulate them for their own reasons while others work covertly, not wanting to become targets themselves. As you can see, this setup can lead to numerous intense situations with children in roles a reader may not be accustomed to seeing them in.

The original book was written along the lines of being traditional genre fiction so that it depends on the actual plot events themselves to provide the tension. The genre fiction was also written with a limit to the intensity and issues so that it wouldn't shock sensitive younger readers. The new rewrite goes wherever it has to and has no such limitations. It is frighteningly realistic and adults are not portrayed universally on the children's side. Some adults unabashedly want the kids dead and as it can develop in a literary novel, it comes through  forcefully and powerfully. As you might imagine, the children have emotional problems and frustrations dealing with all of this. For them they were simply born as children and while they are extremely brilliant, emotionally in many ways, they are still just children wanting to have fun. And yet there are the adults on their side that want these kids to survive and so they and other experienced children of power must toughen these sensitive souls so they can survive the roles they were thrust into not by their choice but simply by fate. The new children must defend and earn their right to survive.

#‎scifi‬ ‪#‎fantasy‬ ‪#‎HarryPotter

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Excerpt from Rewrite of Book #1: Ms. Loveless

Ms. Loveless, school administrator, explains to Jenny, six-year-old Stefan's nanny how they have made Jenny's job easier:

Ms. Loveless points through the glass. “We have made great progress with Stefan. When we started with Stefan, he would squeal and thump books that frustrated him. Eventually he would yell, “Die!” and throw the book into the corner trashcan across the room. If a book was too basic for him, he would do the same thing. Now, we make him write a paper explaining why the book is bad and quietly place the book in the center stack. The left stack are books he has completed successfully. We never let that stack get too big. When Stefan’s imagination starts to run away, I slip a few rejected high school math texts into his reading stack on the right. It’s a cheap way to get him to write since there are lots of them laying around. He is a much more compliant child now.”

Jenny shakes with repressed anger. She realizes that she cannot intervene since she is just the nanny. To do otherwise might blow her cover.

“So you see, Jenny, we have made your job a bit easier by civilizing Stefan. We see this kind of child quite a lot from parents that indulge their children too much, though never before to the degree that Stefan exemplifies. His mother has told me that his father indulges him with science books that are too hard for a child his age in an effort to make Stefan believe he is a genius.”

“Isn’t he?”

“I see he has fooled you too. No, he actually requires an inordinate amount of help compared to what a child is entitled to. We were able to make him compliant when we pointed out how the other children were suffering because he was taking too much of the teacher’s time. Thank goodness he is an overly empathetic child.”

Friday, March 11, 2016

What's It Like to be a #Gifted Fairy

What's it like to be a gifted fairy among humans. Stefan can tell you in the rewrite of book #1.
Stefan turns back toward the light and looks up inside the shade. “I wonder how this drab, decrepit little light makes such beautiful colors?” He taps the lamp. “Make it again!” Nothing happens. “Come on. Don’t you talk?” Silence. Stefan feels his shoulder length hair with an expression of puzzlement. He holds a piece of hair near the light and a bright rainbow light shines from it.
He collapses to a sitting position on the bed with a frown and his arms crossed in frustration. “Well if that isn’t like the squirrel stealing my nuts.”

Neshalia coughs. “Let’s not use that expression, Stefan.”

“But the squirrel does. I want to magnetize his brain and stick him to the side of the building for the duration. I never get to finish my bag during recess. It’s weird that they are not afraid of me. They leave all the other children alone. Why me? Everyone always picks on me. If the sun comes out, all the mean boys come to me to pull on my hair. Now I know why. The world hates me, Neshalia. It just hates me. Why do I even exist? Why? I thought I would tell the mean boys some neat stuff about the sun. Maybe that would make them stop. But they just got even meaner. They said I was my mom’s toy and that my father programmed my brain like one of his computers. Why do they say such things?”

Monday, March 7, 2016

Excerpt from Book #1 Rewrite Rough Draft

I am rewriting Book #1 to give it more a literary novel feel to it. The more in depth characterization should fill in many of the omitted but implicit facts of the original book #1.  Below is an excerpt from the rough draft of the first chapter. As first lines go, how do you think I did? Did I hook you on the story?


Ten-year-old Tyco screams with the desperation of a child being murdered as the sun, rising on Tucson, Arizona, peers into his room like laser beams from a monster's eyes. He sits up in bed as he awakes from the nightmares about the "Lizards" torturing him, his black Mayan hair fanning into a shoulder length glistening sheet with drops of sweat embedded in it. The rubber band holding his hair into a ponytail popped during his nocturnal wrestling with the bed, and now he was sitting shirtless in silence, wearing only black boxers. No one would be coming to comfort him, as this was a nightly occurrence; his parents had grown weary of its lack of resolution. His dark brown eyes, with faint yellow rays radiating out from the pupil, glistened with newly minted tears. The yellow rays command his body to rise and seek the comfort of their kindred—he peers through the blinds at the sunrise. His street ends unceremoniously, without an ending curb, at a piece of undeveloped desert. There are no houses beyond, and Tyco is able to observe the morning rise of his desert animals, seeking their last tidbits before they must hide from the blazing sun. He suddenly feels the expected arms of his mother thread between his arms and chest, coiling around him to give him a firm hug. She kisses him on the cheek and momentarily grips the well the developed muscle of his upper left arm as if to reassure herself of his continued health. She holds the mix of emotions within her quietly, knowing that though her son is the pinnacle of health, his body will never develop further—that his body was effectively frozen in time. She reaches up and rotates the control to where the blinds are angled for the convenience of their common gaze. She looks at his face in the orange glow of the morning light and observes where his gaze terminates. She sees a girl from Tyco's former public school class sitting across the street on her front porch, reading a book; her long flowing blond hair radiates the orange morning light as if it were a comet tail.

While firmly gripping Tyco with her left arm, his mom strokes his hair with her right hand as if she is carefully polishing her prized work of art. "What they told you is true, my son. You can never have her, not even for a friend."

Tyco's body shakes from a muted cry. "She is not my possession or pet. She is wonderful. She is not dumb and crude like the other kids in the class. She knows so many wonderful things. She cares for me, doesn't treat me… doesn't treat me as some stupid…"

Tyco's mom sighs. "You will never be going back to that class again. You know why. By this time next year, your mind will be filled with so many wonders… so many your dad and I won't be able to imagine. Her mind will not be so attractive then and she will be getting ready to enter her teenhood."

Tyco turns to his mom and hugs her tightly, crying aloud. "And I will still be just a boy."

"You will always be mom and dad's cherished boy. But you well know you are not just a boy anymore."  

"I wish I had grown up in the past as a Mayan warrior. Life would be so much simpler."

Tyco's mom coughs. "I know I taught you to be a Mayan warrior. That was my insanity. I don't think it is wise to think about Mayan warriors… certainly not anymore."

Tyco hugs his mom, crying again. "You are scared of me. Mommy please don't be scared of me. I love you so much."

She hugs him tightly and rubs his back. "I will always love you my son. No matter what you may do, I will love you."

A boy's voice outside begins screaming and is answered by the angry screams of a girl. Tyco's body whirls around, staring angrily out the window. An eleven-year-old boy with red hair cut military-style circles on a bicycle in the street in front of the girl’s house. The boy was the class bully and instigator of several group altercations against Tyco.

“You cannot intervene,” says his mom. “He will not harm her. He has never had the guts to face you one on one. He is just a lost boy.”

“He is not the one that is lost.”

“You are not lost. You are loved by a mom and dad. Remember, the others love you too.”

“When they are not thinking of euthanizing me.”

“Don’t say that!” She hugs him tightly from behind again. She picks up his right hand and begins rubbing his palm with her thumb, exploring the texture of a large, raised, green patch of skin formed in the shape of a large sun symbol. 

“You think I’m freak now.”

“No, I was thinking of what you might do to that boy if you got angry.”

Tyco smiles. He mumbles, “Or hungry.”


“Oh mom. You are so gullible sometimes.” He turns around and smiles at her.