Behemoth Books

GRAHAM 2 PREVIEW

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 08:47:40 -0500

GRAHAM 2 copyright © 2012 Brian Clopper.

Chapter 1
BOOTS ON THE GROUND

Graham knew the minute they arrived at the immense main gate to the realm's capital city that his trip to New Asgard would be nothing short of magical. His chaperone for this special trip was none other than Cascade's most popular guardian, The Flying Mummy. Wrapped from head to toe in royal bandages and crowned with his trademark golden asp head accessory, the hero waltzed past the city's royal guards, sending each burly soldier a rigid salute. Graham imitated his idol's gesture, guiding his hand to the tiny ridge of horns that lurked above his eyes and snapping his arm as quick as he could to his hip. He frowned, convinced his salute lacked the proper impact. The guards grinned and returned the salute all the same.

The pair of them stepped through the gate and into the city. Graham glanced at the Flying Mummy and smiled nervously. As brave a face as he had put on about tagging along with his grandfather's close friend when his mother had argued against it, he knew he was entering uncharted territory. He had never been anywhere outside of his remote gargoyle village other than to the troll village only a stone's throw away. Neither destination a place with the degree of hustle and bustle he now saw spread out before him.

Magical creatures of every stripe, shape and hue plowed through the streets with purposeful abandon, weaving through the stifling throng with experience and consideration. Not even on First Flight Day did his village population swell to such size and scope. He feared getting lost, but also nixed the idea of grabbing hold of his hero's hand. He was too old for that. He was Level Six in school and had been an experienced flyer for a year now. He did not want the pharaoh to see him as baby. The Flying Mummy had been a close friend of his grandfather's and they had apparently had several adventures together back when his grandfather had been younger and struck with a serious case of wanderlust.

Graham asked, "Grandfather really did save you from Medusa?"

The mummy's eyes flashed a brighter red. "Indeed, if it wasn't for The Great Gortle, I would've found myself the groom to that foul gorgon. Thanks to him, I was spared from a surely horrifying wedlock."

He still couldn't get used to the lofty title the mummy bestowed upon his grandfather.

The broad thoroughfare was thick with citizens going about their daily errands. He spied a griffin arguing with a street vendor over a leg of meat that looked, to his gargoyle eyes, thoroughly charred. Two firedrakes flew above, their flight paths sticking close to the pointed hat of a wizard who waltzed through the crowd with an air of superiority. If it wasn't for the magician's ridiculous choice in footwear, two bright orange boots far too large for the old man's tiny frame, he might have actually struck fear in the average passerby. As it was, all cleared a path more out of fear of being stomped upon by the boots that seemed to have a mind of their own.

The mummy chuckled as the wizard veered suddenly toward a small dryad who was staring into a store window at a display of freshly cooked brumbleberry pies. The boots trounced about, almost pulverizing the tree spirit much to the wizard's dismay. He tossed an apology at the dryad as the boots shuffled away from her and onto their next target.

The Flying Mummy pointed at the commotion. "Looks like the Wizard Robinson hasn't found the right spell to unhex his footwear. Terrible shame to be at the mercy of a pair of Combat Boots. Poor fellow, at the whim of those single-minded shoes. All they want to do is pick fights and have at the biggest brute in the room. He really should've had that footwear curse lifted by now. Surprised he hasn't swallowed his pride and asked the Wizard Bailey to remove them."

Graham watched the wizard bellow a word of warning to the large orc in his path. The boots seemed to draw a bead on the unruly oversized monster and were determined to give someone a good stomping. Graham highly doubted the orc would bear the brunt of any injury in the tussle. He wondered if the wizard had any defensive spells, but found he was denied seeing the confrontation to its bruised and bloody conclusion as his escort pushed him suddenly to the right. The pharaoh steered Graham toward a narrow side street tucked away between a very fortified looking building and a small bakery. The foot traffic looked much less in the shadows of the small alley.

The pharaoh bent low and whispered, "Stay here. Even on my day off, there are situations that require my attention. I don't think it would do to have the fair Wizard Robinson made into an honorary cobblestone by such a brute, no matter how questionable some of the mage's actions have been of late."

He wedged Graham behind a stack of empty crates and took to the air. Graham watched the hero sweep high above the crowd until he was just above the wizard. The orc had his back to the trouble-seeking boots and looked to be sweet-talking a maiden with two long spiraling horns erupting from her forehead. Graham knew how short-tempered orcs were from reading the series of novels written about The Flying Mummy's legendary adventures. Specifically, Volume Eleven, Of Mystical Sporks and Feisty Orcs. It had been a book he had read numerous times over.

The pair of firedrakes spiraled protectively above their apparent master, unwilling to intervene on his crash course with the orc. They did, however, glare at the airborne pharaoh as he violated their air space. The fierce stare the mummy fired back scattered the wannabe dragons.

The mummy swooped down and grabbed the wizard seconds before the boots were on the orc. He whisked the wizard high in the air, using centrifugal force to keep the hostile footwear from giving him a lethal drop-kick. It was clear the boots felt thwarted. They pin wheeled about. Graham couldn't hear the sky high conversation, but judging by the wizard's scowl, he was none too happy at having anyone come to his rescue.

The mummy arced high and then plummeted to the ground swiftly. He shifted the wizard's body to bear the brunt of the impact, specifically the boots. Their trajectory would put the brutal landing at a relatively open area near the main gate.

The mummy scolded Robinson, "Keep your legs stiff. Let those infernal footies of yours take the blow. It might be enough to -- "

The wizard reluctantly complied.

The boots slammed into the cobblestones. The mummy yanked the wizard up as quickly as he could, hoping to lessen the bone-shattering impact. Both the wizard and mummy sprang away from the ground and landed in a heap at Graham's feet.

The wizard pushed his rescuer off and ranted, "How dare you lay your filthy hands on me. I had the situation under control."

The Flying Mummy stood and brushed himself off. "Now, now, Robinson. Simmer down. I was doing you a favor."

Behind the two, a pair of royal guards from the gate raced toward the ruckus.

The wizard wiggled each leg, scrutinizing each boot carefully. Neither boot acted possessed at the moment. Apparently, the mummy's little trick had knocked them silly. Rather than be pleased that he was now in control of his ability to walk, the wizard tore into the mummy. "A favor? Slamming a fragile old man into the ground is what you call a favor? Maybe that how they do it in your savage desert homeland, but back in merry old England -- "

The first of the guardsmen arrived, a meaty, apish creature with large compound bug eyes. His head swiveled about, taking in both combatants. "Here, here, what's going on? A disturbance of the peace at the main gate? Have you two lost all sense of manners and respect?" The guard glared at the wizard. "Wizard Robinson, has the city not already cited you twice over your walkabout with those dreaded boots on? Why haven't you rectified the situation? Seems to me any magic cobbler worth their salt could free you from those persnickety shoes. And if not, I know the Wizard Bailey can divorce you from them in a jiff."

The wizard rose to his feet, stomping each boot resolutely, his pride at being once again in charge of his stroll quite evident. Graham wondered just how long the magic boots would stay knocked out.

The other guard, a thin goblin whose loose armor rattled at his wide strides, arrived on the scene. He placed a blue hand on the wizard's shoulder and smiled approvingly at The Flying Mummy. "Come along now, Robinson. Best get you away from any other pedestrians. Your track record with managing those cursed boots of yours isn't spectacular and you know it. As it stands, we can close out this incident with a minimum of paperwork. I don't see anyone who has been injured by your little public stroll. No stepping on any dragon tails this time and that's a good thing."

The guard eyed the wizard's firedrakes who had returned and were snorting derisive clouds of smoke at him. He ignored the feeble attempt at making a scene and addressed the pharaoh, "Many thanks for intervening. We saw what was unfolding from back at the gate, but couldn't get there fast enough. Saved us from wiping up after a possible 8-13. We'll need you to sign off on a few things, routine stuff, but you know that already."

Graham could tell the mummy smiled, despite having the lower half of his face wrapped tight in sacred linens. "Of course, Grimguld, of course."

The Flying Mummy took to one knee as the guards guided the still miffed wizard toward their post at the gate. "Graham, I'll just be a minute." He glanced up at the storefront they found themselves next to. He reached into his belt pouch and slipped two coins into the gargoyle's hand. "Have a look-see inside this fine bakery and buy yourself a nibble or two. I'll be back shortly."

Graham smiled. "What's an 8-13?"

The mummy stood and started walking toward the gate. He looked over his shoulder at the young gargoyle. "Orc on a Rampage. Be glad that didn't transpire. I'd never hear the end of it from your mother if that gruesome display was your first taste of the big city."

Graham weighed the coins playfully and entered the bakery, taken aback instantly by the savory aromas that called the interior atmosphere of the store home.

Chapter 2
STONY RECEPTION

The sweet smells assaulted him as soon as he entered the shop. While his nose wasn't as bloodhound sharp as his friend Ot, he wasn't as bad off as some gargoyles in his village when it came to sniffing out delicious treats. He always knew when his mother baked brumbleberry pies before his sister and was the first one to the kitchen on those occasions. His adequate sniffer led him to the rack of danishes cooling in a display case by the window. His eyes feasted on the numerous flavors available: Brumbleberry, Cinnamon, Strawberry, Lemon and Lava Beetle. He wondered exactly what type of customer was so daring as to eat a danish containing the highly disagreeable insect, when he was distracted by the wall display of crullers and donuts to his left. Pastries of all types were stacked one atop another in neat little rows. He counted twelve trays of donuts and four trays of crullers. Each tray was dedicated to one mouth-watering flavor after another.

As he approached the tray loaded down with chocolate topped donuts, he overheard the elven cashier at the counter yelling into the back room. She was dainty and wore a green skirt and tunic. The small cap on her blond head did little to hide her long, slender ears. She smiled at Graham as she chewed out the worker in the back, "And make sure you don't overdo it on the sprinkles this time, Hugo. Business isn't exactly so hot we can go overboard on the toppings, all right?"

A deep, throaty voice acknowledged her from behind the closed metal door leading to the back room.

The elf said, "Any treat catching your fancy, kind sir?"

Graham looked around to see the gentleman she was talking to. The shop was empty except for him.

The elf raised her voice. "Hey, shortstuff, you hungry for some of our fine confectionaries or what?"

Graham saw she was talking to him. He looked away from the window of donuts and smiled nervously. "I do intend to make a purchase, miss. Just searching for the right snack. They all look so good."

The elf flashed him a wide smile that felt altogether insincere and disappeared behind the counter to retrieve something. He heard her open a drawer and sift through its contents. "Fine by me, little stony fella. Good to know you gargoyles do more than eat lava and suck on pebbles."

Graham replied, "What? Where'd you hear that? We eat normal things like fruits and vegetables."

"And apparently the fatty snack on occasion, right?" She popped up from behind the counter and deposited a stack of napkins next to the register. She adjusted her hair net and waltzed over to Graham. "Can't say I've ever seen one of you guys in the flesh." She poked at his orange belly. "Your lot is a bit reclusive, aren't they?"

"Hey!" he protested.

She withdrew her slender finger and flashed him an embarrassed look. "Oh, you're soft and squishy. Thought you'd have rock hard abs. Of course, your skin is a little like sandpaper." She plopped her probing finger in her mouth to cool the self-inflicted brush burn on her fingertip.

She turned her back to him and set forth to straighten a rack of breads. "Just grab my attention when you're ready, sweetie? Say wave those cute little adorable wings of yours when you've decided, and I'll be right with you, okay?" She reached to pat his wings.

He twisted away from her so she couldn't grab hold of them. He was furious at having his wings described as cute. He had flown higher than any in his class on his First Flight and over the past year earned the admiration of almost everyone in his village with his impressive flying ability. All except Blord and his band of stooges treated him with respect. He was disappointed in himself for lumping the elf's curiosity in with the foul bully. He looked at the gentle elf. How was she to know he was still a little sensitive about his tiny wings? He had thought with the intense work out he had given them every day since his First Flight they would have grown a little. No such luck. They were just as small and dainty as before. His father called them hummingbird-strong, probably the closest his dad had ever come to a compliment. Graham would take what he could get in that area. He didn't exactly care for his dad comparing him to such an insignificant bird, but he also knew he would never draw comparisons to the eagles and hawks of the world. He'd have to settle for speed and agility over might and size.

"Touchy little guy, aren't you?" She returned to her spot behind the counter, looking wounded.

Graham lied. "Sorry, they're still a little sore from flying all night to get here. This is my first time in New Asgard." He left out the part that he had spent most of the flight on the back of his hero, The Flying Mummy.

"First-timer, huh? Well, make sure you go see the palace. It's a real gem. And you got to get down to the harbor. There's always someone making a scene at The Jolly Merman. It's a little fishy down there, but nothing a big strapping fellow like yourself can't handle."

Graham smiled. Despite getting off on the wrong foot, he liked the elf. She was plucky and headstrong. She reminded him of his sister. "I'll try. Thanks."

The elf smiled. This time it was sincere.

The door to the shop opened and Graham saw two children enter. One was a goblin and the other was a mystery. She had a hood on and it was pulled far down. He could only see her lips and small chin. Her skin was a light green, he could tell that much. She hung her head low and whispered to her companion. The goblin waved at the elf and disappeared behind the large rack of fresh bread with his hooded companion in tow. Both wore ragged, layered clothes that identified them as from a lower caste. Probably street urchins or beggars. Graham wondered if they even had the money to buy a single pastry.

The elf apparently wondered the same. She looked unnerved by the new customers. She made a show of hollering back to Hugo. "Getting pretty busy up here. Got some customers."

"Yeah, well take care of them, Lil. I'm up to my elbows in dough and losing the fight."

Graham saw Lil's face tighten. Hugo had basically announced he was tied up and not available to help.

Graham couldn't see the pair of ne'er-do-wells, but their whispering grew more intense. What Hugo had said pleased them. Graham was getting a bad vibe from them. Was he about to witness a big city crime? Where was his escort? Would the mummy arrive in time to put a stop to whatever misdeed was about to happen?

He looked at the door. As far as he could see, his bandaged escort was nowhere to be seen.

The goblin approached Lil. The elf tensed as the scrawny boy slapped his hand down on the counter. "Fine morning to you, little one."

"A good morning to you, young sir. What can I get you and your companion?"

The goblin leaned against the counter and looked back at the hooded girl. "What did I tell you, sweetie pie? See what a warm welcome we're getting from this fine business. I could tell that was what we were in for the moment I spied this delightful bakery -- top-notch service with a smile."

The hooded girl nodded. "You can certainly spot a good one."

The goblin traced his lean index finger lazily on the counter. He didn't look the elf in the eyes until he ended his sentence. "We are in dire need of everything you've got in your till!"

Graham tensed. The goblin's words couldn't be mistaken. He wanted what was in the register. His steely eyes narrowed as he stared down the elf. Graham slipped behind the bread rack. Had the robbers seen him? If they had, they clearly judged him not to be a threat. He again looked outside to see if his escort was returning. The Flying Mummy was still a no show.

Lil stood frozen, overwhelmed at what was unfolding.

The goblin dropped his cool composure and snapped, "The cash box, you cow. Hand it over." He kept his voice low enough so Hugo in the back wouldn't catch wind of what was happening under his nose.

The hooded girl moved closer. Something wasn't right with her. Graham swore he heard hissing coming from under her hood.

The goblin glanced away from his companion. "Looks like she's not going to be any help. Work your magic, sweetie."

The girl dropped her hood and Graham saw her for what she was. A nest of snakes for hair, the scaly skin, the concealed eyes -- she was a gorgon, daughter of Medusa. Graham knew the magic was held in the gorgon's eyes. With her back to him, he was in no danger.

Lil, however, had not taken her eyes off the girl. Graham saw the elf had been turned to stone, her tiny body fixed in a frozen cringe.

The goblin slipped around the corner, ignoring the statue next to him. The gorgon returned the hood to her head and joined him. They opened the drawer and removed the cash with experienced hands.

"Jackpot, Cassie. We really hit it big this time. Who'd have thought this little place would be such a gold mine." The goblin stuffed the bills and coins in a shoulder sack. The gorgon did the same. In less than a minute, they had completed their transaction and were heading for the door.

The goblin shouted loud enough for Hugo to hear, "Much obliged. I'll be sure to send my friends a callin' to your fine establishment. Can't say enough about your excellent service. You folks really care." The two thieves raced out the door.

Hugo called back to them. "Thank you, kind sir. Word of mouth is always appreciated."

Graham held his breath a moment longer. They hadn't seen him and they were getting away. His brow furrowed. He needed to act. He stepped out from behind the bread rack and approached the stone elf. He poked at her skin. It was as hard as his grandfather's. He looked out the front window to see the two culprits darting down a far alley. The goblin wore a carefree grin.

He whispered to the elf. 'I'll make this right."

Just then, Hugo chose to grace the front with his presence. With flour still covering his forearms, the immense ogre barged in through the back door. It scraped against the elf, almost knocking her over. Graham reached out and steadied the statue.

Hugo caught sight of him and the open cash drawer. His face drew back into a grimace. His eyes played over Lil and her stony condition. "Gargoyle, what have you done?"
Graham backed away, angling himself toward the front entrance. "It wasn't me, sir. It was a pair of street urchins. They came in and turned her to stone."

Hugo roared. The long hairs on his back stood. Graham knew that ogres were overall gentle creatures unless backed into a corner. Then, their berserker natures took hold and what resulted was never pretty.

"You did this? You turned my darling Lil into stone?" The ogre lunged at Graham. His bulk crashed into the rack of bread. It clattered to the floor, spilling loaves everywhere.
"No, it wasn't me. I'll show you. I know where they went." Graham stumbled out the front door with Hugo emerging right behind him.

The young gargoyle took to the air, his wings a blur. He zoomed high and then arced toward the alley the real thieves had used.

Hugo bellowed, "Stop, thief!" The ogre tripped over a family of gnomes and fell to the cobblestones. His double chins slammed into the hard stone roadway. He waved a fist at Graham." Guards, help me. That little pipsqueak turned Lil into a statue with his freaky gargoyle magic."

Graham wanted to correct the ogre, tell him that gargoyles didn't have any magic, but knew it was not the time or place. He looked over at the rapidly approaching squad of guards. His escort was not among them. He knew if he stopped to explain himself to the guards, the trail would go cold. He needed to go after the goblin and gorgon on his own.

Decisively, he flew into the tight alley, disappearing around a bend in hot pursuit with no inkling what he would do when he caught up with the two young felons.

Chapter 3
SLY SCROLLING

Flenn knew she shouldn't be snooping around in her brother's room, but she felt justified in her little crime. After all, her father had allowed Graham the privilege of going to New Asgard without her. She fumed, knowing such a trip was wasted on her brother. He'd probably spend the whole time gazing up at his idol and not at all the breathtaking wonder around him. She had studied so much about the city as a Level Three student that she could draw a map of it from memory. Her brother was a homebody. Why did he get the chance to expand his horizons and not her? She was the one who wanted to strike out and see all of Cascade. She thought to her future and what her adult life would be like. She'd leave the gargoyle village, maybe petition to be an ambassador for her people. They were closed off from Cascade. No one represented them in New Asgard, despite being asked to send an emissary by Odin himself on three separate occasions. With her people's laid back nature, it was a wonder they had ever worked up the nerve to leave Earth for Cascade. She was sure many on the council hated the inconvenience of having to pass through a dimensional gate when it was time for them to ascend a church and take their rightful places as guardian statues.

She refocused her effort on finding the scroll. She knew Graham still held onto it, having seen him take it out to the woods at least twice since their grandfather had passed. She had tailed him one night and watched him step through the open gate only to return a few minutes later appearing equal parts sad and overjoyed. With him away, it was her turn to use the spell. If Graham, Mr. Straight-And-Narrow, could break the rules and cross over to Earth then she could too. Their father would be dismissed from his spot on the council if Graham were ever caught. She really wanted to see what drove him to commit such a risky crime. She suspected he was visiting their grandfather in his resting place and was jealous he hadn't invited her to come along. Probably didn't want her to get in trouble.She went through his bookshelf, looking behind each book. She thought she had found it behind the first volume in The Flying Mummy series, but the tiny scroll hidden there was for a spell designed to increase the size of a creature's wings. She recalled when Graham had sent away for the silly spell. It had been an ad in the back of a Flying Mummy comic book that had spurred him to purchase such a spell. She had told him it was a scam, that no magic bought through the mail could help him with his tiny wings, but he hadn't listened.

He had tried the spell in the bathroom every night for two weeks before finally abandoning it. Why had he kept it? She slipped it back in its hiding place and moved onto the closet.

She abandoned her search of his impossibly disorganized closet in less than three minutes, empty-handed and growing nervous. Her parents were due back from their night out in half an hour. If she didn't find the scroll soon, she'd have to call the whole mission a wash. She refused to do that. When would her brother be away from the house overnight ever again? It wasn't like he ever did any sleepovers and she knew he wouldn't suddenly become a world traveler and set out to see the three other major cities in Cascade.

It was now or never. She glanced around the room, wondering where he would hide such a large scroll. Rolled up, it would be awkward to stow away. It suddenly clicked. Storing it rolled up would be too much of a hassle. Unrolled, it could be kept flat and take up much less space. She spied her brother's prized wall hangings. A small poster of The Flying Mummy leading the Eternity Guard in battle against the Zombie King hung over his desk. She thought it too small to cover the scroll, but checked it just the same. She carefully removed the two lower thumbtacks to find a pink school referral slip tucked away. She read over it. Her brother had apparently stood up to Blord in the playground yet again and earned himself another lunch detention. The bottom of the slip was unsigned. She checked the date. Three days ago. He had kept it secret from his parents so he could go on his trip. If he had shown them this, their father would have surely grounded him indefinitely. She frowned, disappointed she hadn't found the referral earlier and used it to her advantage in some way. She slipped it back behind the poster and affixed the tacks in their original holes.

The large poster of The Flying Mummy battling Professor Scarab mounted above Graham's bed was certainly big enough to hide the scroll. She hopped up onto his bed and removed the four thumbtacks along the bottom. She lifted up the bottom half and hit paydirt. The parchment was taped to the wall halfway up. She slipped under the poster, leaving the bulk of it to flap down over her wings, and slowly pried the scroll from the wall. She removed the tape with care, placing the six strips of clear tape on the edge of Graham's desk so they could be reused upon her return. She unfurled the scroll and confirmed it was indeed the teleportation spell needed to open and close the gateway. She raced to her room to retrieve her sandals, a lava beetle lantern and a light jacket.

As she zipped up her jacket, she eyed the living room clock. She had twenty minutes. It would be calling it close. While in her room, she had unlocked her window in case she would need to sneak back in. She quickly wrote a note complaining of a tummy ache and how she was going to bed early. She left it on the kitchen table and hoped they would not bother to check up on her. That might buy her a few minutes. She went out the front door, being careful to lock it. The will-o'-wisp floating about in the porch lantern tsk-tsked her. She squinched up her face and stuck out her tongue at the light pixie. Thank goodness the little creature couldn't talk or it would surely squeal about her absence.

She glanced down the main road leading to the village. It was so rare that her parents took time for themselves, that Flenn knew her mother would squeeze every last second out of the evening, much to her father's dismay. He hated going out in public, a trait he shared with Graham. She frowned, once again peeved that her brother was receiving such an undeserved reward.

She struck out into the forest, swatting to the side the vines and branches that crowded in tight. The path to the summoning stone was more overgrown than before. She kept the scroll tucked safely away in her jacket. No sense trying to read it on the way and risk skewering it with an errant branch or thorny vine.

***

Behind her a tall, barrel-chested gargoyle stepped out of the shadows and grinned. His black eyes tracked her progress through the thick underbrush. The gargoyle rubbed his hands together, his thoughts flush with cruel intent.

Satisfied Flenn had just enough lead that he wouldn't lose her, Blord stalked into the forest.

ZOMBIES, GARGOYLES & DRAGON NEGOTIATORS, OH MY!

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 13:56:32 -0500

Okay, so here's what's on my plate for the next six months.

TURNCOATS: Two edit pass-thrus are done, and I'll sit down next week and read the whole book through in four days to get the big picture of how it holds up. February is reserved for my beta-readers to get their mitts on the manuscript and give me feedback. March is the month I make corrections and then April is when I make the big push to send it out to agents. I have to confess I haven't pursued sending any queries for anything since last July. I'm hoping to query with much more vim and vigor this year.

GRAHAM 2: FLENN'S FOLLY: This sequel to GRAHAM is really exploding on the page. I plan on writing the book in January and February. It looks to be about 40,000 words and 5,000 are already done thanks to starting it this week. It's been a joy returning to these characters and I think readers will love seeing Graham sharing the spotlight with his sister on this much bigger adventure. Sure, our little gargoyle has taken his first flight, but he's soon discovering there's a whole wide world out there ready to swat him down just for looking at them funny. In April and May, I'll test-drive this manuscript by reading it to the class that is the authority on Graham's life, my current class. They love the little scamp and will be very pivotal to me fine-tuning the book. May will have it go out to my beta-readers and then final edits will be in June. My plan is to debut it as an e-book on this site by the end of the summer. Liking this book so much that a third book might be waiting in the wings for early next year.

NED FIREBREAK: Lots of great ideas for this project are filling up my inspiration journal. The plan is to start this in April and finish it by December. It's going to be a really fun project with vivid characters that will rewire the damsel-in-distress/knight-to-the-rescue genre.

Along the way, I plan on final edits to STOMPER REX so it can also be added to the website as an e-book. Look for that in the summer.

Up next: An exclusive preview of the first three chapters of GRAHAM 2.

IT'S DONE!

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Mon, 9 Jan 2012 16:28:30 -0500

TURNCOATS is complete!

I'll have a post later this week detailing my next steps with this delicious manuscript. Know that I'm making a big push to get through all the editing and revising in time to pitch it to agents in April. More about my plans for the next six months in a more detailed post.

APOCALYPSE IS NOW!

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Sun, 1 Jan 2012 13:01:28 -0500

I love end-of-the-world fiction. Doesn't matter how the world ends; whether it be a large chunk of space rock whose commute through the galaxy coincides with our orbital path or the universal equalizer of an EMP blast high overhead or the more visceral threat of the undead reanimating, I can't get enough of the doomsday scenario. I love me atomic wastelands, roving bands of mutants and rag-tag survivors making a last stand. Apocalyptic fiction has become a big thing in the last few years and I'm just ecstatic.

It got me thinking recently how I would fare in a world gone mad. Not very well, I fear. I'd like to think of myself as a flexible survivor, but when I inventoried my true assets and deficits when faced with outrunning a rabid horde of zombies or helping rebuild society with my extensive knowledge of weapons or gardening, I fall woefully short of the cut.

Below are the reasons why I wouldn't make it past the first week of any brave, new world:

1.Caffeine. I'm horribly addicted to a high level of caffeine consumption on a daily basis. When I try to cut it out, I get dizzy, nauseous and vomit. Even if that cleared up after the first few days, I'd have to hole up somewhere and wait it out. And as we all know, alien death squads, the former dead and angry mutants don't play by the rules of Five-Mississippi.

2.Marketable Skills. With the collapse of our society, having an experienced trigger finger and a green thumb will be in high demand. Any remotely organized refuges with thoughtful Honey Do lists of who they need on staff will just turn me away. Drawing cute aliens, writing escapist stories and teaching 5th graders how many degrees are in a pentagon rank low on the skills needed to land an express pass into the world's most elite gated communities.

3.Pop Culture Withdrawal. My daily diet of television, comics, books and music would evaporate in snap. Long would I languish on how the world ended when I still had 64% of my DVR filled. I'd never see how CHUCK ended. My extensive backlog of HOUSE HUNTERS episodes would go unwatched. The depression I would lapse into at having all these bright shiny things taken away would make me easy pickings.

4.My Family. We never arrive on time to anything. The moment's notice edict with travel during a world-shattering disaster would mean: a) Forget outrunning any nearby rising oceans, b) end of the line for any supply handouts from the soon to be destroyed government-run relief facilities, c) an uncanny imitation of a slow-moving gazelle at the fringe of the herd easily plucked up by the nasty flock of vampire men who have infested the planet or d) all of the above.

5.Denial. As much as I read about how to survive the end of the world, the psychological stress of such an event would play a lethal game of Freeze Tag with my decision-making skills. It's one thing to be able to quickly order off the Taco Bell drive-thru and entirely another to have the wherewithal to select which subway tunnel leads away from the cavern loaded down with subterranean unmen.

As you can see, I'm not going to be the extreme survivalist you want on your crew as you brave radiated cities, fight off disfigured fish people or hopscotch through a magma mine field courtesy of the supervolcano that now occupies the greater part of the ATL.

It all makes me wonder if I'd be a better candidate for time travel. Surely I'm not that chronologistically impaired. But that's a post for another time and place.

NOVEMBER FLU BY

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 20:09:22 -0500

This was a first for me. As a teacher, I found my sick days comprised mostly of a day off here or there for the 24-hour bug or taking time off because of a sick child. I was getting pretty consistent at only missing one or two days a year. Well, along came the last week of October and that record changed. We had just tracked in for only a day and I was feeling altogether funky. I woke up the next morning sick as a dog. I took the day off, thinking it was another 24-hour bug. Twelve days later of being bedridden and very out of it, I had to admit I had just endured my first run-in with the full-blown flu. And it was nasty. Constantly weak, achy and no appetite. I dropped fourteen pounds in the first two weeks and it showed. In all my years of teaching, I had avoided the flu shot every year, thinking my mighty immunity streak would hold. After this illness, I can safely say that won't be the case anymore. I was out for two weeks, nine days from my class. Even when I came back on the third week, I mustered only two half days and barely got through two full days before the week was over. Now, five weeks after the illness began, I still have a breathy cough that flares up after I speak for any length of time. The dreadful aspect of being so far gone was that my ability to concentrate was next to nil. I didn't read a single book or comic for two weeks. That was unheard of. I was always running around with my nose in a book. Forget even trying to write my own creations.

So November passed on by, and I didn't do any writing of TURNCOATS. If I had, I would've been done. It's the first real break I've taken from writing in the three years since I started seriously working on novels. I'm happy to say that Thursday and Friday night this week are dedicated to wringing out another chapter, and that I'll be forging ahead on completing a chapter a week of TURNCOATS for the next three weeks. With my long December/January track-out looming large, I know I can knock out the end of my zombie book and also put a big dent in GRAHAM 2.

My students during my absence were so patient and kind. I really appreciated their understanding as I came back and struggled to make it through those initial post-illness work days. Look for blog posts to resume on a regular basis with the advent of December. Just wanted to post this to let you know why my long absence from this site.

CHECKING IN WITH ZOMBIES

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 15:57:48 -0400

Okay, I have to admit to being a huge zombie fan. I read a ton of zombie books, follow THE WALKING DEAD in comic form and on TV and especially love all the YA zombie books that are starting to show up. It's not the gore and body parts that captivate me. I actually have a pretty low tolerance for that. It's the on-the-run vibe, the intense character moments, and the big question of what next that I find so appealing about zombie fiction.

Since I wanted to do a project that would have a very dark edge to it, I found myself drawn to trying my hand at a zombie book. The title came to me: TURNCOATS. With the title, the central conceit played out in my mind immediately. A living teenage boy, Nathan, is visited by his sister's best friend, Trina, days before the true zombies show up. The hitch, Trina has been dead for over a week herself. She warns Nathan of the impending apocalypse and the two of them soon see the world around them descend into chaos. Trina has visions and nightmares that tell her Nathan is the key to ending the evil invasion that is spreading with every bite.

The two, along with a small group of friends and family set out in the changed world to be greeted with mistrust from both the living and the dead. Nathan is branded a traitor for being with a zombie and Trina is shunned by the ravenous creatures that grow in numbers with every day.

The first book, OVERRUN, is about set-up and action with heaping helpings of swell character moments. It's been the most rewarding book to write, and I can't wait to see it unleashed on the world.

I found writing such a full-throttle story held many attractions. It got me writing faster because of the intensity of the action. That really pushed me to reach the end of a chapter whenever I sat down to write.

I found inspiration from my own experiences. When Nathan flees the grocery store with his mom in the back of a watermelon truck, that came from my teen years working as a produce clerk and unloading umpteen watermelons from the back of a straw-laden truck bed. Of course, I never used the melons to fend off a throng of zombies. Either way, its back-breaking work.

The kudzu sequence came to me after my children pointed out a massive mound of kudzu piggybacked on a tree making it look like a stooped green gorilla. I then began to wonder if kudzu could be a possible hiding place from zombies. Adding that element, keenly placed the setting in the South. North Carolina to be exact.

TURNCOATS is a book that is the most alive of any of my creations. Sort of fitting since it's all about dead folk. I plan on doing edits in the next two months and start out the new year pitching it to agents.

As you can see from the counter, I made my 65,000 word goal today. Well, the story still has a few more pages. Probably about 5-7,000 more. I'm hoping to finish it next week.

Now, I have to go proof the last three chapters. If you need me, I'll be knee-deep in the thesaurus looking for fitting replacements for dismembered and medulla oblongata.

MAPMAKING AND WORLD BUILDING

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Tue, 4 Oct 2011 08:43:05 -0400

When I created the story for GRAHAM THE GARGOYLE, one of the earliest brainstorming tactics I did was design a map of Cascade. It helped me with sequencing and developing a feel for the whole of the magical world even if Graham really doesn't stray too far from his village.

I applied this thinking to TAGALONG when it came time to figure out an entirely new magical realm. Myriad was born from this map. I'd like to discuss the various kingdoms in Myriad to show you that I leave myself wiggle room with places. I always put more on the map than what is in the story in the hopes that a second book will reveal more of the world. Probably indicative of the fact that coming up with ideas has never been an issue with me.

The main continent in Myriad is home to Arcana North and Arcana South. All magical creatures reside there. The Burrows in Arcana South is a major setting for Mitch and Dylan in that it represents the first real dangerous mission when they sneak inside to retrieve a truly cursed weapon.

Cryptopia is home to all the creatures we think exist, but haven't found proof of them yet. Bigfoot, Yetis and a creature from my home state of Maryland, the Snallygaster, pop up when they visit this kingdom.

Immateria is the realm of the spirits. They don't go there, but they do use the Spookspots to travel between lands. In a Spookspot, you ride spirits from one gateway to another. It's a dimensional shortcut.

The Wizard Warren needs to be isolated so an island did the trick.

The nonsense characters such as fictitious friends, stuffed animals that talk, and animate toys reside in Mufflewump.

Our gremlin guide hails from Hoodwink, a realm where mischief is the hallmark of its citizens.

The Underside, another place that is not visited, is the lair of the truly dark creatures, the beings who go bump in the night.

The Aquanation is home to a key species that show up halfway through the book. I was very pleased with how threatening these creatures turned out.

Isle of Might, the Dragon Reservation and Deity Pennisula are three more areas that are there not as part of the story, but to add flavor and variety. I love the idea of using all three places in the second book of the Myriad series. The names are just too evocative not to be exploited. Please forgive that I spelled deity wrong on the map.

I shall not speak of The Unspoken Lands as that is verboten and I'm a big fan of respecting all things verboten.

The question marks allow for more world building to happen if needed.

When creating my maps, I go into it with a sense of fluidity and exchange. What I hope I end up with is a charmer of a world that has enough known locales and enough unknown to tickle the reader's imagination. I create a rough map at the beginning of the book and then a finalized version after the novel is complete. That allows for new places to added or switched out with places that I'm no longer fond of using.

UP NEXT: CHECKING IN WITH ZOMBIES

Changing Expectations and Infusing My Writing Part 2

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 00:28:29 -0400

Part 2 continues detailing the inspirations and background brainstorming I did to create GRAHAM THE GARGOYLE.

BANDAGED BEDTIME GUESTS All of the Cascade books feature a cameo by the Flying Mummy. He's a magical superhero who is the realm's go-to pharaoh when world-shattering needs preventing. In Cascade, he's hugely popular, which is why Graham idolizes him and Norton does too. Both have all his comic books and various toys, including the rare Flying Mummy pencil holder sarcophagus. I love how naturally the mummy shows up in Graham's adventure. The fact that the mummy is a old heroic comrade of Graham's grandfather makes the mummy's visit all the more poignant and rife with pathos. And, honestly, don't we all deserve a dollop of pathos in the books we read once and awhile?

EASTER EGGS I love being rewarded with hidden narrative and visual gifts in movies and in books. I'm the type of viewer who pays as much attention to the elements of the set because I love being rewarded when I spot the sly Easter Eggs laid out for the scrutinizing watcher. I'm the same way when I read books and when I write them.

In the Cascade series, I made an effort to incorporate details and scenes that enhance and overlap in the books. Graham's adventure runs concurrently with Norton's so that when you read both books, you can delve deeper into both characters. One can only hope that when my books are wider read, I'll stumble across some posters volleying back and forth all the Easter Eggs they find in my work.

MAGICAL JUSTICE LEAGUE Oh, look, Brian's love for the long underwear types found in comic books is showing. Yep, I'm guilty of being a comic book fan for close to 30 years. I still get excited every month when my newest shipment from Westfield arrives. The Eternity Guard is the band of heroes led by the Flying Mummy who are the magical equivalent of the Justice League in Cascade. Their exploits are legendary and always name-dropped in each of the books alongside the Flying Mummy's comings and goings.

CHURCH PERCH I needed an added stressor in Graham's life besides his anxiety over his first flight. I knew I wanted to have his father be a bit overbearing and detached, but I wanted at lease one family member Graham could go to for emotional support. His grandfather fit the bill beautifully. Once I knew his grandfather would loom large in his life, I knew it was a rug I would have to pull out from under the stony fellow. I needed a way to take away Graham's emotional support and the notion of having gargoyles grow harder as they aged came to mind. When they become old enough to completely calcify, they perform the ritual of climbing a church back on Earth and harden into place, taking on the role of protector in their final resting spot. Having Graham experience this added another level of maturity and coming of age to the growth he encounters in his tale.

FATHER FIGURES Goodness, I could write a book about the pitfalls of father/son interactions. In fact, I wrote two. GRAHAM deals with the difficulties of a father removed from his son. Graham's dad is highly placed in the village and he demands much of his son.

In MARSHALL: GODLING OF WAR, a project I released as a comic and will soon see the light of day as a novel, deals with a son estranged from a father who is a god among men. Marshall is another book that's a Changing Expectation. It ponders what would happen when the son of the God of War doesn't want to follow in his father's bloody footsteps. It's got a cute golem manservant who is aquaphobic. You would be too, if you were just a lump of animated mud and clay.

Anyway, the father/son tribulation theme is one I was very familiar with in my own life. My dad and I had a tough time in my early years. I was the perpetual dreamer, and he was the pragmatic one who just wanted me to be safe and secure. No wonder it's a theme I continue to explore from different angles in my writing.

So there you have it, a look inside how GRAHAM came into being. It's a book that is incredibly close to my heart and contains so much of what I want to achieve as a writer.

Up Next: MAKING MAPS OF WORLDS HELPS ME BUILD CHARACTERS

Changing Expectations and Infusing My Writing Part 1

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 12:56:06 -0400

One of my favorite brainstorming techniques I use in my writing and I teach my students is to create characters and situations that Change Expectations. With GRAHAM THE GARGOYLE, it meant taking the predictable notion that gargoyles hang out in high places and fly about with little anxiety and turning it upside down so I had a gargoyle who was an ardent landlubber. Presto! -- Graham popped into being. I imagined a gargoyle afraid of heights. From there, the notion of gargoyles taking their first flight as a rite of passage took shape. Graham would be the most anxious of all in his class, what with his wings being so tiny and all.

This technique has served me well. I used it to create NORTON THE VAMPIRE. Since vampires can't get cozy with the sun, I thought it would be interesting to have a vampire who yearned for a job where sun exposure was a dealbreaker. The story of a young vampire whose dream of becoming a lifeguard at a beach popped into my head.

I encourage my students to generate stories in this way and they are always mighty successful. We've had porcupines afraid of pointy objects, mummies that are snappy dressers and even werewolf dentists. Although that last one is more of an Odd Pairing, another idea generator I have them use quite a bit.

Now with GRAHAM, there's so much of his story that's deeply linked with my own experiences. No, I don't have any relatives that scaled churches and took to bell towers as their final resting spots and last I looked my sister never created a science fair project that helped me outwit a bully, but there are creative tidbits that were fueled by my experiences nonetheless.

The second half of this post will share some of the details I used to inform my writing of GRAHAM. And if it nudges you into dropping a paltry 99 cents on a read you will surely dig, than I've done my sincere best.

SISTER'S RULE! Okay, Graham's relationship with his sister has been praised for its playful authenticity. It was a plethora of fun to write. When I cast Flenn, I had no idea she would be such a chatterbox and such a needy know-it-all. My own sister was never so abrasive. We got along fairly well. Looking back, I was probably a bit too physically tough on her. Slamming a door in her face and giving her a black eye with the doorknob is not something I'm proud of. All in all, we had a solid relationship, much like Graham and Flenn.

When I was writing the breakfast scene where Flenn forces her brother to listen to her volcano project report, I didn't have any idea she would reveal a key detail that would help Graham catch the bully Blord in a lie. But through the miracle process of letting the characters find their way within the plot, the plot revelation presented itself. Those happy accidents that look so planned after the fact make the writing process such an adventure. Graham does care for his sister beyond what she does for him and you'll see that so much more in the second book. Yep, looks like I'll be doing a GRAHAM sequel. It'll clock in around a hundred pages like the first one, and I plan on writing it right after TURNCOATS. I figure I can produce it in two months no sweat. The ideas are coming to me so much right now that I can't ignore it.

VOLCANOES GALORE! Part of the science curriculum up in Maryland focused on the three primary types of volcanoes: cinder cone, composite and lava dome. Thanks to my knowledge of their features, it worked itself smoothly into the airborne race Blord challenges Graham to.

PATCHWORK WORLDS I've already stated my love of the XANTH novels by Piers Anthony. I love the dimensions where diverse creatures exist in crazy-quilt fashion next to each other. It's probably why I have such affection for the JOHN CARTER OF MARS series and the old black and white FLASH GORDON episodes. I like that a kingdom of centaurs can be plopped down next to a haven for orcs. There are such ripe conflicts and interactions to explore when you put so many monsters and beasties together and ask them to play nice. In CASCADE that premise will become more prevalent as future books are written. In GRAHAM, I really focused on the gargoyles and trolls who live next to each other. In the second GRAHAM, you'll see the troll village and meet Ot's younger brother, Wensen. In NORTON THE VAMPIRE, you'll meet the shadowclans, all the creatures that call the night their home. In MARSHALL GODLING OF WAR, you'll see the big city of NEW ASGARD and meet street urchins mixing it up with a cosmic cast of gods and goddesses. Heck, lots of subterranean species will be revealed when I get around to doing THE FLYING MUMMY volume. The Cascade books are so quick to put together that it should be no problem to do a new volume of that series as I keep doing a new project each year to pitch to agents.

Wow, looks like I have a ton more to say about items that relate to GRAHAM than I thought. Much more than I have time to put in one post. Check back next week for Part 2.

Coming in Part 2: BANDAGED BEDTIME GUESTS, MAGICAL JUSTICE LEAGUE, EASTER EGGS, CHURCH PERCH and FATHER FIGURES

What's On My Plate

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Sat, 3 Sep 2011 17:54:23 -0400

I'm currently hard at work writing TURNCOATS, a YA novel about a zombie apocalypse where a living boy and a dead girl hold the key to stopping the end of the world. The title comes from the conceit that both the humans and the undead see the unlikely alliance of the two main characters as a betrayal. How the two survive in a world where neither are accepted is the crux of this three-volume series. The first book, OVERRUN, sets up the premise and destroys civilization. The other two books, OVERWHELMED and OVERTHROWN, will really explore the decaying new world and how humanity is taken to the brink and back by our two unlikely saviors. The creepy green image in the upper corner of this site is the cover to this book.

It's a big departure for me in that it is a grim piece with a ton of action, ingenuity and dire consequences. I'm two-thirds complete and will have it done by the end of October. I'll print it up as beta book through lulu.com and make edits over the winter. I'll pitch it in February as I continue to work on my next project, NED FIREBREAK. I'll start that book in November. Look for me to share development notes and blog posts on NED as I begin work on it.

In addition to currently working on TURNCOATS, I'm about to do edits on FLAME AND FORTUNE, which I finished in May. I've also got the final edits to do on STOMPER REX, a book I completed in January.

I plan on submitting FLAME to an agent who expressed interest in my work after I queried GRAHAM, and he liked it, but wanted to take on a completed novel rather than a shorter work like GRAHAM. It clocks in as a 94-page novella, and he didn't want to shop around a short story. Hopefully, his interest in Graham and invite to submit a longer piece will increase the chance of him giving my work serious consideration.

On the website front, I plan on getting TAGALONG up as an e-book by the middle of September along with regular posts telling you more about both GRAHAM AND TAGALONG in a bit more tantalizing depth than what's on the BUY page.

My goal is to ultimately land an agent, but I also love getting my work out there. To that end, I'll be trying a two-pronged approach of releasing my work myself as I continue to pitch projects.

Look for my next post to be all about a brainstorming technique called Changing Expectations. I teach my students this strategy and it is a major factor in generating many of my ideas. It's the driving force behind GRAHAM THE GARGOYLE's creation and in the development of NORTON THE VAMPIRE, a vampire who wanted to become a lifeguard. It's the second book in the Cascade series and the next e-book to jump onboard this site some time in December. And, yes, the main character is named after one of my favorite childhood authors, Andre Norton.

Be sure to check back in a week to get the scoop on one of the sweetest gargoyles around.

And for my students reading this site instead of doing their homework, did you catch the word of the day I slipped in this post?

How I Got Here Part 2: Writing in a Vacuum

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 00:58:07 -0400

Earlier, I posted how my daughter inspired me to get back into writing. With this entry, you'll see how my desire to find acceptance of my work with other authors landed me back on the web.

I wrote GRAHAM THE GARGOYLE, NORTON THE VAMPIRE and PAUL THE PILLOW MONSTER in 2000, 2001 and 2003 respectively. They were self-published and limited to small print runs that have since sold out. GRAHAM and NORTON were illustrated, while PAUL was my first straight prose piece. They sold well at library visits and comic shows, even garnering some nice online reviews at the time.

One of my favorite authors from my childhood was Piers Anthony. His Xanth novels were my first exposure to the concept of patchwork fantasy worlds and word play. I gobbled down his books and can say his writing had a huge influence on me in my teenage years. When I published my earlier novels, I had sent Piers copies of the books. He read them and said very nice things about each on his website.

Because of this, I would frequently check on Piers' website for his monthly newsletter posts, even years after his posts about my work. I stumbled upon his review of Keith Robinson's book, ISLAND OF FOG. At the mention of children being able to transform into magical creatures and the post-apocalyptic setting (two of my absolute faves), I slipped on over to www.unearthlytales.com and checked out Keith's site. Impressed with his posts and the synopsis of the book, I ordered ISLAND from Amazon. After reading it, I decided to use it as a read aloud with my class. They loved it! Excited by their enthusiasm, I had them write letters and send art to Keith. We sent the package off and were pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Robinson had posted all their letters and art on his site.

Now, writing is very rewarding. It stirs something in me that is joyous and liberating. But, it's also very lonely. I reached out to Keith, hoping to find someone who would be a kindred spirit, someone who knows what it's like to put pen to paper and concoct a scene with a talking dragon podium that wants to be the center of attention. Yep, that's still one of my favorite little bits from PAUL THE PILLOW MONSTER.

I began corresponding with Keith, sending him copies of my early efforts. It became evident our writing interests were very similar and we started sending each other our projects to look over. In addition, I also read ISLAND OF FOG to my next class, and we again wrote Keith letters. All the while, Keith and I kept up our friendship and mutual respect for each other's creations through phone calls, e-mails and even a joint vacation to the mountains of Asheville that was a real hoot!

His friendship and authorly camaraderie means a great deal to me. He became my first beta-reader outside of my eagle-eyed wife and sister. I have had the privilege of looking over three of his books as well and it has been a joy. It's amazing what you learn about your writing when you are trying to offer insight and edits to another scribe. He has made me a sharper writer and helped me to become energized about pushing my creations further into the public eye and hopefully onto the desk of a discerning agent.

The site you see before you is all his. He executed it, and I am very indebted to him. I hope I can make him proud. If my posts are half as interesting as his, I'll consider this site a success.

Up Next: What's on my plate?

How I Got Here Part 1: The Father/Daughter Connection

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 17:29:31 -0400

Welcome to my site. I want to share my experiences as an author gunning for agent representation, while at the same time, seeding the waters with my self-publishing ventures.

How I got here is all due to a simple statement from my daughter and the works of a fellow writer who haunts islands of fog (www.unearthlytales.com).

I'm a teacher. I currently teach fifth grade in North Carolina and love working with that age. Their interests tend to be mine: comics books, video games, science fiction and monsters. We moved to North Carolina from Maryland to have a house where we could stay for twenty to thirty years and raise our two loveable children. Before our move, I had been very involved in creating comic books both as a writer, artist and editor. I've had my work published by Marvel, Caliber, Slave Labor and was having modest success with my self-published projects: IMAGINATION ROCKET (an anthology geared for the classrooms) and MARVIN THE DRAGON ( a comic book that doubled as a birthday card). When we moved down to North Carolina, my output trickled to a halt. My interest in doing comics sort of fell to the wayside as my children were coming of school age.

My daughter knew I had published a few projects, both comics and a few novels, but she had never really seen me work on anything. She was becoming more aware of how her fellow classmates perceived me as this wildly imaginative author who got them brainstorming and loving writing, but she couldn't recall having seen me do any writing. Three years ago, she said to me: "Why don't you write again? I want to see you write a story."

I was so struck by this I vowed to write a book a year for the next sixteen years and start submitting to agents. Ambitious, but doable. I knew what I could do from the many projects I had shepherded to publication in the comics industry. Up until three years ago, I had written three other novels and published them myself for sale at the conventions I went to. I had never sent them out to agents and had never actively pursued writing in that way.

Her interest in my work fueled me big time. I wrote TAGALONG, a delightful fantasy about false quests and monstrous hybrids. A year later, I wrote IRVING WISHBUTTON, a character who attended The Questing Academy to learn how to be a proper hero in his book. Year three brought FLAME AND FORTUNE, a brash tale of a fire elemental and a were-elf who team-up with a willful will-o'-wisp. Also in the third year, I participated in NANOWRIMO, writing a complete story in a month called STOMPER REX. Now it's year four and I've almost completed TURNCOATS, a YA zombie novel that really raises the stakes as far as action and apocalyptic consequence.

TURNCOATS is on target to be done by October, with NED FIREBREAK waiting in the wings for me to start by year's end.

Along the way, my daughter took up the writing habit, penning numerous stories herself at the second computer in our studio. We both drew inspiration from each other and it amazes me when she concocts such wild stories as THE BEASTIES BELOW, NAUGHTY NAVIN and SARANA CAPETTE.

I'm beginning the painful process of submitting, making strides in getting some requests for partials and encouraging handwritten invites to submit again. I know it's a matter of persistence, enjoying the writing and continuing to grow as a writer and person that will lead me to getting an agent. My plan to write sixteen books in sixteen years will afford me the opportunity to have a plethora of projects to shop around when my big break finally happens.

But I don't travel the path alone. Along the way, I met a fellow writer with astonishingly similar tastes doing the same thing as me. It is because of that writer I have a web presence again. In Part Two, I'll relate to you how my frequent visits to my childhood idol's, Piers Anthony, website, led me to corresponding with Keith Robinson, author of the brilliant fantasy series ISLAND OF FOG.

Days Away!

info@brianclopper.com (Behemoth Books) — Wed, 10 Aug 2011 19:59:14 -0400

Here it is, fresh out of the oven, my very own website! Huge thanks to web designer extraordinaire, Keith Robinson. I'm very excited to post and will be dropping my first official post this weekend. Please chime in with a comment once I get the ball rolling. My plans are ambitious and my determination to see my books out there on e-readers and shelves is vast! I can't wait to fill you in on the publishing side of my life. Big things are on their way!