Once I settled on the idea of writing the story of a famous shipwreck and to rewrite the history of Titanic, and also write a futuristic give and take between 2012 and 1914, alternating chapters between the two storylines, I could sit down and begin to write. While I do a lot of research & reading to cover my behind and facts, I am always itiching and anxious to get the story underway; I often go back to the research accumulated to fill in gaps where necessary in my knowledge of events, people, etc.and pick up facts and info as I go. This keeps me excited about the story itself, the plot, and this keeps my head in the game; keeps me up.
Making these initial decisions will color the entire book from beginning to end. The first opening lines, establishing time and place and who is to "star" in these opening pages is crucial and will guide me on my way to chapter two and subsequent chapters, so I have to really nail these opening pages and nail them down. Starting a novel is like setting up house with another person; what you put on the first pages can and will come back to haunt you if they are not the right path to take.
Not that I did not have pitfalls and problems; much of the problems I faced this past week were all to do with Time...where to find it. I am teacing four classes, I have a family to contend with, and and to top off things, my AC-Adapter died the other day. Still I managed to find the time to work--to do a certain number of pages a day. Setting a schedule and sticking to it as much as possible is absolutely necessary, so I have "stiff-armed" loved ones and have told the kids "Unless there is blood, I don't wan to be disturbed during my writing time!" Still there are chores and ups and downs, cat litter to change, dog food to pick up, roasts to put on, etc. But a schedule of time or a promise of so many pages a day is absolutely necessary to make a novel happen. Apply seat of pants to seat of chair and seed the story. Or rather feed the storyline, I keep telling myself. I place the basic preimise, the pitch on my working wall to look at when I need to reestablish why I am taking this long, long journey.
I have completed some 33 pages since last I blogged on how I intend to keep a journal on the process. In these opening scenes and chapters, I do rewrites before I go on; I do so because I have learned from experience that the tone you set and the execution of these opening pages can and do become your initial chapters that will be sent to an agent or editor, and they must be flawless--without error or misstep, and as I write the rest of the book, I can use these opening chapters to already begin the process of getting readings from any and all sources I can find--feedback. If the feedback is good, I might even set up a sales pitch and begin marketing the idea as I go on with the novel itself.
You needn't read on from here but for those who want to see the RESULTS so far...well...Here is the first scene. Note that time and place are established immediately and how the story focuses in on character and action and dialouge FAST.
TITANIC – A Plague Ship
ONE
Belfast, Ireland, April 13, 1914
Slippage dust choked them. A fine shower of it rained down, creating of itself an unruly ghost-fog. It was so fine, they wouldn’t have known it was there had not their helmet lights reflected it. The earth around them groaned and stretched as if disturbed from slumber, just awakening. Tim McAffey, one of the two who’d dared enter to inspect the damage wondered why he’d ever become a miner. Then the floating grave ahead of them settled, and he thought of the bonus promised if he did his job. He thought of home and family and food on the table.
The day had ended with little to show for and mine superintendent McAffey remained frustrated and upset. He knew from experience it’d take days if not a week to get the men comfortable enough about this section of the mine to even begin to clean up the mess where some timbers had given way to what amounted to a minor cave in at best. No one had been killed; two injured and off to hospital.
Still, men were superstitious; once an area underground shook with the slightest tremor, they bolted and often refused to return unless the owners offered an incentive. Two years previous, there’d been a god awful mining accident the likes of which Belfast had never seen before—twenty seven men killed in an instant. But that was another section quite the distance, and this minor sputter, why it amounted to nothing of consequence beyond a six-square pile of rubble in the way of going forward to where it was believed the finest iron ore ever seen lay waiting for them to harvest. They had a contract to fulfill with the ocean-going Star Line—a major client in the throes of building the grandest, largest ship ever to sail the seas. Titanic, they were calling her—and Belfast Iron was already a major part of this historic endeavor. Getting the ore to the foundry and the shipyard, that was all that mattered now.
“What ‘ave we ‘ear?” asked Francis O’Toole, alongside Superintended McAffey, O’Toole’s unlit pipe extended as a pointer to a darkened corner of the beleaguered shaft.
“What is it?” McAffey lifted his flaming gas lantern toward the object, and he gasped.
“Some sorta dog looks like.”
It was embedded in the cave wall, recently uncovered by the recently fallen debris. The snout was huge, the gaping incisors prehistoric in appearance. “Geezus, tell no one about this monster, Francis, not a word.”
“Why? What’re you thinking, Tim? We could put it on display, charge folks to have a look! Make enough to keep us in whiskey and beer for months.”
“Word gets out about this we have two problems, old man!”
“Two problems?”
“Yes—one with the men, the second with the eggheads at the university. The men’ll claim it’s Satan himself at work here, and the professors will want to stop production until they can turn it into an archeological dig.”
“Aye…I see your meaning.”
“This stays with us. We pickaxe this…this ancient badger outta here, wrap it up, and toss it into the nearest river. Let it be somebody else’s discovery. I want nothing to do with it. Agreed?”
O’Toole poked at the brittle creature in the wall with his pipe only to knock away an entire tooth the size of his finger. He lifted the tooth, pocketed it, and said, “Something to tell my grandchildren about!”
“I just said no one’s to know!”
“After I retire one day.” He laughed and turned to McAffey who shoved a pick into his hands.
“So long as you tell ’em that’s all you found—a tooth. Now let’s start digging.”
The two veteran miners intended to make short work of the unusual find. In fact, they soon had the creature extracted from the wall, and were chipping away at the remaining ore attached to the carcass.
“We’ll get a tarp, wrap it, and take it down to the mill creek,” suggested McAffey, puffing now from the work. “Dump it there.” Just then McCaffey sucked in a deep breath of the mine air and stumbled to a rock, squatting there and trying to shake off a feeling he had overdone things.
“You OK, Tim?”
“Just get the tarp! I’m fine.”
O’Toole looked at his boss, nodding. He set off for the surface and the tarp, grumbling while McAffey sat on a rock and waited for his return.
Fifteen minutes elapsed when O’Toole returned with the tarp only to find McAffey bent over in serious pain, asking the other man to get him to the surface; that it was imperative. “Need fresh air…now. Help me, plll-ease.”
He didn’t even sound like McAffey anymore, so distraught was he.
“Sure…sure…I can come back later for the carcass.” But McAffey had forgotten about every other consideration. He simply kept repeating, “Air…I gotta right to air. Get me air!”
O’Toole, a big man in his late ffities—old for a miner—held his wobbly boss who seemed about to faint dead any moment. “Hold on to me; I’ve gotcha, Tim me boy.”
“Feels like I picked up something, Francis. Got no time for this. No time for sickness.”
“You’re nose is bleedin’, Tim—gushin’ it is.”
“Get me to the surface, now!”
“McAffey’s ears began to bleed now, but in the darkness, O’Toole didn’t notice. “Never been sick a day in your life, Tim, so what’s this?” he asked, but McAffey could not form words. Blood strangled any attempt to speak or to breathe. He died in O’Toole’s grasp half way out of the mineshaft in the lit elevator. By this time, O’Toole knew two facts: one, McAffey had died a terrible death, one which left his body looking like an ancient mummy with the bandages removed, and two, that Francis himself was now feeling ill. He feared what had done Tim in had now infected him. He felt the saber-tooth in his pocket, lifted it, and cursed it. He knew, like McAffey, that he was on his own way to a horrible death, and it had to do with handling that beast he’d left below.
Just then he felt a stirring in his body, a foreign intruder, something controlling his fingers to tighten around the overlarge tooth. He squeezed until the tooth bit into him. Something suggested that while he had no future, that he would live longer than McAffey had; that whatever this was, it had fed on Tim like a starved dog over a piece of meat, but that it would take its time with Francis O’Toole. At least long enough to take in the air of the world outside the mine.
“Some seed in that damned, cursed prehistoric dog carcass,” he muttered to himself, feeling an overwhelming urge to live, and to do so among other men—other men who would allow life to continue—yet a life he did not recognize. All he knew was that he must survive long enough to get to the surface. In fact it became a mantra. He kicked McAffey’s inert, dehydrated form—his skin going the way of the strange animal they’d found—off the platform to disappear into the darkness below. He chanted, “Got to get out…got to get out…got to get out…”
Some time later, O’Toole stumbled down to the Belfast shipyard looking like a drunk at the midnight hour. He passed below the huge gantry, a part of his brain unsure how he had gotten here, how he had come so far, how he remained alive when Tim McAffey had died so quickly and violently. He felt not at all in control of his limbs, felt no control of his will, yet he was alive, despite the horrible belief that some kind of dread disease had grasped hold of him. It seemed madness to contemplate, but it felt as if the thing that’d taken hold of him, somehow transferred to him from McAffey—or rather McAffey’s corpse—and the creature they’d carelessly handled, was intentionally stretching out its time with O’Toole—using him up in a more directed fashion as if it could…as if its feeding on him from within was held in check. While it had so quickly and voraciously fed on McAffey, it had now ushered in a powerful self-control. Whatever it might be called otherwise, the thing was sentient—thinking, manipulative, conniving, and it wanted survival.
It directed him to the shipyard; it seemed to want to get as far from its former prison as possible. To that end, it wanted O’Toole aboard the ship being built, a ship that was built from ore taken from the mine—as if it had an affinity for the iron walls or realized it could be the perfect lair. His conscious mind had no real evidence of any of it.
In any case, O’Toole had no choice but to carry ‘it’ aboard if that was its wish.
By now realizing himself to be just a conduit, a vehicle to move it from the cave to here, O’Toole thought of killing himself, but he had no ready method of doing so save leaping into the water as he could not swim. He made a move in that direction but was turned about, his will no longer his own. He guessed that he’d debated over suicide too long, and it knew his thoughts and was ahead of him on this.
Francis moved now below the giant letters hundreds of feet overhead and twenty feet apart that read:
T I T A N I C.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Friday, February 05, 2010
Watch a Novel Come into Being from idea to publication
With the new year, I decided on a resolution -- to get a new novel underway, and while it is an idea I had visited in the mid-eighties, I wanted to revive it and start anew. It is a mix of historical suspense and a futuristic tale. This on the surface may seem a bit odd, maybe strange, and certainly ambitious. In fact this title idea is quite ambitious, so ambitious in fact that it may never see completion--especially if I start thinkikng of it in its entirity rather than in controllable pieces and parts like the varied pieces of an enormous puzzle. Imagination has me going back to the Titanic -- the infamous Titanic, a subject so many readers can never get enough of. I have myself read extensively about the night the Unsinkable Ship slipped below the waves, and due to some disturbing facts without answers, I have long wanted to "explain" these facts--odd behaviour of Captain Edward Smith in particular. And so the book begins with a huge questioning WHAT IF? What if Captain Smith, a man with a stellar seagoing record, a man on his last voyage who had never so much as put a dent in a ship in his entire career, how he could on Titanic's maiden voyage CAUSE the worst maritime disaster in recorded history--and WHAT IF he did it on purpose?
What would be Captain Smith's reasoning? What could cause this stern, steel-spinned captain, admired by all, to intentionally ram Titanic into an iceberg field at full speed, an iceberg field he knew was out there thanks to the Marconi messages recieved in the radio room and placed in Smith's hands?
So what came first, the What If premise or the research? The research suggested the idea of involving the captain in a "benign" conspiracy to destroy ship and all aboard. The plan was in fact that no one survive--and that the plague spread by some evil force let loose aboard not survive and not reach land in New York or anywhere else. Smith went down with Titanic along with thousands of souls, but he fully expected those in lifeboats too would die of the elements and exposure, accident and the pull of Titanic as it went down. His instructions to his crew were meant to snuff out all life aboard in order to contain a horrendous disease-spreading MONSTER. Yes, my intent is to put a monster aboard the Titanic in an effort to answer the inconguities of the circumstances found in the history books.
So my first efforts have been to READ, then read, then read. Read everything I could find on the famous shipwreck down to where the ore in the ship came from. Second job is to pull from the reading and research a pivotal and exciting premise via an imaginary leap. These two jobs--research and flight of fancy get the novel underway. I have done the reading over years and years. The premise has been living in the back of my mind since the mid-eighties when I started to once before do this book. Pulled away by other contracts and considerations, I have leaped back into what I am calling PlagueShip Titanic. It will take me months if not a year to complete the book as I am working around a job, four children, a wife, a dog, a cat--all of whom require pampering and attention, not to mention the visitudes of life and things like flat tires.
So like Julia-Julia -- I aam propsoing you follow me here and I will report a couple of times a week on how the manuscript is shaping up. I will discuss openings, beginnings, scene-building, chapter building, point of view, time shifts, point of view shifts, setting shifts and juggling the historical chapters (story) with the futurisitic chapters (plot).
This past week, I somehow managed to craft some 30 pages. I hope to run the novel to some 400 pages at minimum but am not at all sure I can make it that far. I hope you will wish to follow me in the progress of this "monster" tale ground in fact. The challenge--one of many--ist to get the reader to believe in the viability of the monster and its disease carried with it. How does the writer convince the reader of the IMPOSSIBLE? One important technique--detail, detail, detail.
Using examples from the ongoing work, I will discuss every aspect of the art and craft and science of the writer and the process. Do hope you will find this of interest and come along with me to the Writing Zone.
Next DIRTY DEEDS mystery/suspense blog will soon follow.
What would be Captain Smith's reasoning? What could cause this stern, steel-spinned captain, admired by all, to intentionally ram Titanic into an iceberg field at full speed, an iceberg field he knew was out there thanks to the Marconi messages recieved in the radio room and placed in Smith's hands?
So what came first, the What If premise or the research? The research suggested the idea of involving the captain in a "benign" conspiracy to destroy ship and all aboard. The plan was in fact that no one survive--and that the plague spread by some evil force let loose aboard not survive and not reach land in New York or anywhere else. Smith went down with Titanic along with thousands of souls, but he fully expected those in lifeboats too would die of the elements and exposure, accident and the pull of Titanic as it went down. His instructions to his crew were meant to snuff out all life aboard in order to contain a horrendous disease-spreading MONSTER. Yes, my intent is to put a monster aboard the Titanic in an effort to answer the inconguities of the circumstances found in the history books.
So my first efforts have been to READ, then read, then read. Read everything I could find on the famous shipwreck down to where the ore in the ship came from. Second job is to pull from the reading and research a pivotal and exciting premise via an imaginary leap. These two jobs--research and flight of fancy get the novel underway. I have done the reading over years and years. The premise has been living in the back of my mind since the mid-eighties when I started to once before do this book. Pulled away by other contracts and considerations, I have leaped back into what I am calling PlagueShip Titanic. It will take me months if not a year to complete the book as I am working around a job, four children, a wife, a dog, a cat--all of whom require pampering and attention, not to mention the visitudes of life and things like flat tires.
So like Julia-Julia -- I aam propsoing you follow me here and I will report a couple of times a week on how the manuscript is shaping up. I will discuss openings, beginnings, scene-building, chapter building, point of view, time shifts, point of view shifts, setting shifts and juggling the historical chapters (story) with the futurisitic chapters (plot).
This past week, I somehow managed to craft some 30 pages. I hope to run the novel to some 400 pages at minimum but am not at all sure I can make it that far. I hope you will wish to follow me in the progress of this "monster" tale ground in fact. The challenge--one of many--ist to get the reader to believe in the viability of the monster and its disease carried with it. How does the writer convince the reader of the IMPOSSIBLE? One important technique--detail, detail, detail.
Using examples from the ongoing work, I will discuss every aspect of the art and craft and science of the writer and the process. Do hope you will find this of interest and come along with me to the Writing Zone.
Next DIRTY DEEDS mystery/suspense blog will soon follow.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Murdery Mystery Radio Interview
Hear Rob Walker go on for 15 minutes - Live Radio at
http://blogtalkradio.com/booksandblogs
rob walker
http://www.robertwalkerbooks.com/ -- FREE copy of DEAD ON when you Name my Next Novel
find me on myspace.com/robertwwalkerbooks.com
Twitter, Facebook!
http://blogtalkradio.com/booksandblogs
rob walker
http://www.robertwalkerbooks.com/ -- FREE copy of DEAD ON when you Name my Next Novel
find me on myspace.com/robertwwalkerbooks.com
Twitter, Facebook!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Chicago Tribune gives it up for Shadows in White City
Disclaimer: THIS is a Re-Posting of one of Dirty Deeds Earliest posts:
Turning my blog over to this marvelous review garnered for my latest
exciting installmetn in the Ransom Series -- sequel to City for Ransom,
the April-May release of Shadows in the White City...enjoy the review:
"Shadows in the White City," the second novel in Robert W. Walker's
historical mystery saga featuring tenacious Chicago Police Inspector
Alastair Ransom, can be likened to getting sucker-punched in the
face with brass knuckles: It's shocking, unrelentingly brutal and
guaranteed to leave an impression.
Walker, who grew up and still lives in Chicago, deftly mixes
hard-boiled mystery and meticulously researched historical fiction
with a hint of horror to create a wildly entertaining series.
Set in 1893 Chicago during the World's Fair, Walker's novel shows us
a world of extremes: In the midst of one of the most socially and
culturally influential events of the century, an almost-mythical
cannibalistic butcher nicknamed the Leather Apron haunts the Chicago
underground, preying on homeless children. But when the short-tempered
Ransomï¿ whose investigatory methods are far from by-the-bookï, closes
in on the mysterious killer, the identity of the human flesh-eating monstrosity
turns his world upside down. "Shadows in the White City" is historical
mystery at its best."
Turning my blog over to this marvelous review garnered for my latest
exciting installmetn in the Ransom Series -- sequel to City for Ransom,
the April-May release of Shadows in the White City...enjoy the review:
"Shadows in the White City," the second novel in Robert W. Walker's
historical mystery saga featuring tenacious Chicago Police Inspector
Alastair Ransom, can be likened to getting sucker-punched in the
face with brass knuckles: It's shocking, unrelentingly brutal and
guaranteed to leave an impression.
Walker, who grew up and still lives in Chicago, deftly mixes
hard-boiled mystery and meticulously researched historical fiction
with a hint of horror to create a wildly entertaining series.
Set in 1893 Chicago during the World's Fair, Walker's novel shows us
a world of extremes: In the midst of one of the most socially and
culturally influential events of the century, an almost-mythical
cannibalistic butcher nicknamed the Leather Apron haunts the Chicago
underground, preying on homeless children. But when the short-tempered
Ransomï¿ whose investigatory methods are far from by-the-bookï, closes
in on the mysterious killer, the identity of the human flesh-eating monstrosity
turns his world upside down. "Shadows in the White City" is historical
mystery at its best."
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Thriller Horror Suspense Mystery History Author is in...Home of Author Robert W. Walker
Hello one and all,
This is a blog? No it is more than a blog. It is were the villains live. As the author of the long running Instinct Series and Edge Series, I have created some of the most horrendous, evil-doers and dastardly villains of all time. People confuse me with these guys at times, and at times I am asked, "How can you write this stuff?" My reply, "How can you read it?" Else I say, "Wwwell...I grew up in Chicagooooooo." Other authors have come to me for lessons on how to create a villain readers love to hate, and this is the litmus test for each book I do. How can I possibly come up with a more horrific, disgusting villain than the one I just finished with, heh? This is a huge challenge for me as each of my rogues are terribly terribly bad boys or girls. Yes, Effie, I have done a number of BAD GIRLS in my FBI forensic series. Some villains don't know if they are male or female. This can be fun too. But now with the creation of City for Ransom...the Phantom of the Fair is one nasty piece of work, a villain's villain that Inspector Alastair Ransom in 1893 Chicago must catch before he causes distress to a city that is partying big time with the World's Fair going on....Alastair has been likened to Holmes, Wolfe, and even Nick Charles. The book has passed muster with 3 Chicago historians--tough critics indeed. The book has been likened to Caleb Carr's The Alienist but on speed. It has been favorably likened to Erik Larsen's non-fiction title Devil in White City but on speed. It has also been likened to the films of Wes Craven. Anyone out there get word to Wes, let me know.
But my most recent villainous creation is Carnivore Man found in the pages of PSI BLUE, a novel of psychic sensory investigation (think TV's Medium but on speed). However, my psychic is half Asian, half Celtic, and ALL woman. She is picking up the psychic fear coming off Carnivore Man who senses someone somewhere...and it ain't God...sees him....sees what he does to his victims...and what he does is paint his victims with glow in the dark metallic paint so he can hang them in his 'house of horrors'. A fun guy indeed, and you may be thinking now a crass book...but wait, it is written in a lovely and even poetic voice. Give it a chance when it becomes available in September via Echelon Press.
I will be doing some appearances, panels, conferences, signings this fall and this is the place to watch for the news, along with my website at http://www.robertwalkerbooks.com/
Meanwhile, perhaps my most fastest madest craziest novel ever is now a first-time original up at Amazon.com with their new Shorts program. FleshWar is an amazing way for you to lose weight, it is that 'disgustingly good', and it was turned down by editors as a book that literally ran tooooooo fast. Amazing reason to turn a book down, heh? But my editor at Amazon loved every hair-raising moment of FleshWar, and it has been serialized in 11 parts at a mere 49 cents per download. Parts 1-5 are up now and they are taking up space--4 or 5 spaces of the top ten horror titles on the http://www.amazon.com/Shorts list; it can also be found there under Science Fition & Fantasy category as well as Mystery-Suspense category. So go...enjoy....you'll love it.
As I said at the beginning. Creating the next, new villainous 'creature' whether a monster or a serial killer is often my toughest job as a novelist. In the pagesof my books, you will find an amzaing array of godawful creatures and maniacs. However, you will also find amazing heroes and heroines as well, heroes large enough and bright enough to tackle the worst villains on the planet. All in a context of language and literature you will marvel at as I grew up on the classics, and who wrote better villains than Conan Doyle, Alexander Dumas, Mark Twain, Robert Louis Stevensen, H.G. Wells, and of course Abraham Stoker.
Thanks for hanging out with me. Hope you enjoy the blog so far. I am going to see what I can do about some visuals here, so just give me time. I am new to this bloggin' thing.
Robert W. Walker (Rob)
http://www.fictionwise.com/
http://www.amazon.com/Shorts
http://www.harpercollinsbooks.com/
http://www.echelonbooks.com/
This is a blog? No it is more than a blog. It is were the villains live. As the author of the long running Instinct Series and Edge Series, I have created some of the most horrendous, evil-doers and dastardly villains of all time. People confuse me with these guys at times, and at times I am asked, "How can you write this stuff?" My reply, "How can you read it?" Else I say, "Wwwell...I grew up in Chicagooooooo." Other authors have come to me for lessons on how to create a villain readers love to hate, and this is the litmus test for each book I do. How can I possibly come up with a more horrific, disgusting villain than the one I just finished with, heh? This is a huge challenge for me as each of my rogues are terribly terribly bad boys or girls. Yes, Effie, I have done a number of BAD GIRLS in my FBI forensic series. Some villains don't know if they are male or female. This can be fun too. But now with the creation of City for Ransom...the Phantom of the Fair is one nasty piece of work, a villain's villain that Inspector Alastair Ransom in 1893 Chicago must catch before he causes distress to a city that is partying big time with the World's Fair going on....Alastair has been likened to Holmes, Wolfe, and even Nick Charles. The book has passed muster with 3 Chicago historians--tough critics indeed. The book has been likened to Caleb Carr's The Alienist but on speed. It has been favorably likened to Erik Larsen's non-fiction title Devil in White City but on speed. It has also been likened to the films of Wes Craven. Anyone out there get word to Wes, let me know.
But my most recent villainous creation is Carnivore Man found in the pages of PSI BLUE, a novel of psychic sensory investigation (think TV's Medium but on speed). However, my psychic is half Asian, half Celtic, and ALL woman. She is picking up the psychic fear coming off Carnivore Man who senses someone somewhere...and it ain't God...sees him....sees what he does to his victims...and what he does is paint his victims with glow in the dark metallic paint so he can hang them in his 'house of horrors'. A fun guy indeed, and you may be thinking now a crass book...but wait, it is written in a lovely and even poetic voice. Give it a chance when it becomes available in September via Echelon Press.
I will be doing some appearances, panels, conferences, signings this fall and this is the place to watch for the news, along with my website at http://www.robertwalkerbooks.com/
Meanwhile, perhaps my most fastest madest craziest novel ever is now a first-time original up at Amazon.com with their new Shorts program. FleshWar is an amazing way for you to lose weight, it is that 'disgustingly good', and it was turned down by editors as a book that literally ran tooooooo fast. Amazing reason to turn a book down, heh? But my editor at Amazon loved every hair-raising moment of FleshWar, and it has been serialized in 11 parts at a mere 49 cents per download. Parts 1-5 are up now and they are taking up space--4 or 5 spaces of the top ten horror titles on the http://www.amazon.com/Shorts list; it can also be found there under Science Fition & Fantasy category as well as Mystery-Suspense category. So go...enjoy....you'll love it.
As I said at the beginning. Creating the next, new villainous 'creature' whether a monster or a serial killer is often my toughest job as a novelist. In the pagesof my books, you will find an amzaing array of godawful creatures and maniacs. However, you will also find amazing heroes and heroines as well, heroes large enough and bright enough to tackle the worst villains on the planet. All in a context of language and literature you will marvel at as I grew up on the classics, and who wrote better villains than Conan Doyle, Alexander Dumas, Mark Twain, Robert Louis Stevensen, H.G. Wells, and of course Abraham Stoker.
Thanks for hanging out with me. Hope you enjoy the blog so far. I am going to see what I can do about some visuals here, so just give me time. I am new to this bloggin' thing.
Robert W. Walker (Rob)
http://www.fictionwise.com/
http://www.amazon.com/Shorts
http://www.harpercollinsbooks.com/
http://www.echelonbooks.com/
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