Woods All Night | The Bookmaker’s Note 6/11/21
Bookmaking log: submitted finished A Lyme-Brained Rhyme Game for publishing
The Tide Churns [cont’d] – The Monksville Chronicles (39/124)
‘Pride?!’ Lysandra sends, wishing she could spit. ‘He stayed for your sake, Hilaetos, he was trying to warn you! To save you! Little did the gull know, ‘twas he who needed saving from you.’
Nov the Eighth – Untitled Bigfoot Project (162/224)
And the third draft is done. I went to bed thinking about The Hillside Commons last night, woke up still thinking about it this morning. I didn’t even leave my bedroom yet, except to go to the bathroom. I don’t even know what time it is. But I do know…
God Is Real, and the Mushrooms are He! | The Bookmaker’s Note 6/10/21
Bookmaking log: submitted finished Roadtrip for publishing
The Tide Churns – The Monksville Chronicles (38/124)
Lysandra feels her soulgroom’s rage as he takes flight in her direction. She gazes behind her, unsurprised by the three hawks but disconcerted nonetheless. She flaps her mighty brown wings thrice to rise then spans her wings flat against the wind, dump…
Nov the Seventh – Untitled Bigfoot Project (161/224)
PROOF COPY GOT HERE TWO DAYS EARLY.
Takeoff – The Monksville Chronicles (37/124)
Lysander is perched on a high branch in a tree that’s stood bare since before last summer. His eyes scan The Basin like the owl will scan a field lit by twilight, then his gaze finds his soulbride. When he sees what approaches her rear, he shrieks ragi…
Nov the Third (cont’d) – Untitled Bigfoot Project (160/224)
Proof copy is officially ordered. Wasn’t too expensive, the shipping cost more than the printing of the book itself. Said it should be delivered by Monday, Nov the Ninth – a day of Chaos. Can’t fuckin’ wait.
Stormclouds – The Monksville Chronicles (36/124)
The ice capping Monksville is thin and brittle; above, the clouds are dark and full. The wind howls with the ferocity of a rabid wolf, but the snow does not fall. Not yet.
Nov the Third – Untitled Bigfoot Project (159/224)
It took no less than twelve full hours, Journal, but I have completed the second draft of The Face of Fear. Whole thing done in one shot, boom. BOOM, MOTHERFUCKER! BOOM, BITCH! Tell me I did it wrong, tell me I’m squandering this opportunity, tell me h…
