Meet dozens of local authors at Nashua Library

Have you ever wondered what it takes to write, publish, and sell a book? On Thursday, November 7, you can get the answers from dozens of local authors at the Nashua Public Library’s Local Author Night.

Among those scheduled to take part is Mike Morin, the Frank FM 106.3 morning radio personality, whose latest book is about a New England institution: “If you watched candlepin bowling on TV as a kid with your family on Saturdays,” Morin says, “’Lunch With Tommy and Stasia’ is the book you’ve been waiting for.… Read the rest

Have you ever wondered what it takes to write, publish, and sell a book? On Thursday, November 7, you can get the answers from dozens of local authors at the Nashua Public Library’s Local Author Night.

Among those scheduled to take part is Mike Morin, the Frank FM 106.3 morning radio personality, whose latest book is about a New England institution: “If you watched candlepin bowling on TV as a kid with your family on Saturdays,” Morin says, “’Lunch With Tommy and Stasia’ is the book you’ve been waiting for. If you didn’t do that, you’ll still like the book because there are puppies, a parking meter coin theft scandal and everything in between.”

The Local Author Night, which is free and open to the public, runs from 6:30 p.m. to 8 p.m.

 
Forty-five writers are scheduled to be on hand, selling and signing their books. Attendees will be able to talk to them individually about their books and how they came to be published.

This is a perfect opportunity to do some holiday shopping for the booklovers on your list.

If you’re an aspiring author yourself, come early at 4:45 p.m. to hear a talk by Sara Marks, librarian and author of the 21st Century Austen books. She’ll be giving advice on using free and low-cost techniques to sell books. This talk is free and open to the public; registration is not required.

The topics of the nonfiction authors attending include American history, gluten, memoir, horror and more. On the fiction side, attendees can meet writers of fantasy, romance, mystery, poetry, thriller and science fiction.

For more information, contact Carol Luers Eyman at (603) 589-4610 or carol.eyman@nashualibrary.org.

The library is located at 2 Court Street, and its website is www.nashualibrary.org.

The Goatmen of Aguirra Serialized on Piker Press

Sand Pilarski, the genius Managing Editor of The Piker Press, is serializing The Goatmen of Aguirra starting as this week’s cover story and running for the next seven.

I am thrilled, and thanks to Sand and The Piker Press for accepting this novella.… Read the rest

Sand Pilarski, the genius Managing Editor of The Piker Press, is serializing The Goatmen of Aguirra starting as this week’s cover story and running for the next seven.

I am thrilled, and thanks to Sand and The Piker Press for accepting this novella.

 
For those unfamiliar with the story…
The Goatmen of Aguirra is based on my experiences as a cultural anthropologist working with aboriginal societies. I wrote it side by side with The Augmented Man back in the early 1990s. I sent it to a few markets. One editor requested several edits and finally rejected it with “I think I’ve done more damage with my suggestions than helped it.”

Yeah. Well. Thanks.

In the end, nobody bought it so I shelved it.

In 2015 I gave up a business I grew from my basement to having offices in the US, Canada, and the EU. Susan (wife/partner/Princess) said, “I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re writing your fiction, so I want you to do that for the rest of your life.”

It’s wonderful when the one true love of your life knows what you love in your life, isn’t it?

I included The Goatmen of Aguirra in my self-published anthology, Tales Told ‘Round Celestial Campfires, which’s received good reviews so far.

I decided to send The Goatmen of Aguirra around again. But now it had a blackmark – “previously published.”

I saw The Piker Press and thought, sure, why not. But I started with an email entitled “Querying before submitting” and gave a two paragraph synopsis. Sand wrote back

Yes, I’d like to see it very much. Please send it along, and give me a couple days to read through.

I sent it. She wrote back

What a captivating and thought-provoking story! Once I sarted reading, I couldn’t stop. Every interruption seemed like a catastrophe.

And The Goatmen of Aguirra saw print in a recognized market earlier this week.

Remember what I wrote in 30 Years to Publication?

Yeah, I’m feeling good.

Take a read. Let Sand and me know what you think. ‘Preciate it.

Teri Polen Bad Mooned Me

Young adult horror, sci-fi, and fantasy author Teri Polen Bad Mooned me.

I know, it’s true. I should have known better and I’m ashamed of myself.

IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!

 
Teri asked me a bunch of questions – Would you rather be a vampire or a lion tamer?… Read the rest

Young adult horror, sci-fi, and fantasy author Teri Polen Bad Mooned me.

I know, it’s true. I should have known better and I’m ashamed of myself.

IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!

 
Teri asked me a bunch of questions – Would you rather be a vampire or a lion tamer? (no, that’s not right. I have The Magic Show on my mind. sorry), What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters of the opposite sex?, As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal? and others.

I must have done good because the comments were flattering and I do oh so love flattery.

I do, I do, I truly do.

And please check out Teri’s books. We’ll both appreciate it (my reward is knowing I helped Teri out).

Empty Sky Chapter 16 – The Gardens of the Moon

Read Empty Sky Chapter 15 – Pangiosi and Tom

Read Empty Sky Chapter 15 – Pangiosi and Tom


A cold wind roughled Jamie’s bathrobe against his pajamaed legs. Thick animal fur warmed his face like a blanket, its smell filling his nostrils with each breath.

But not Shem’s fur. It smelled…heavier than Shem’s fur…more urgent than Shem’s fur.

He raised his head, his hands stiff from clenching Graywolf’s coat.

“We’re almost there, Jamie.”

They moved through a rush of trees. White barked birch and scotch pine, gray ash and winter oak towered over him, their branches alternately pine needle and leaf and snow covered and offering a canopy through which the night sky, its stars and planets, could still be seen.

High overhead the moon still sailed through the sky, full and rumbling like a big church organ. The Aurora walked back and forth across the cold night sky, crinkling like cellophane candy wrappers, sounding almost like words just beyond his ability to understand, like the Aurora were people talking at a party, like when Mom and Dad had people over and Jamie and Shem listened from the top of the stairs.

The wind moved through the trees and sounded like long, low, breathy, conversations, as if the world talked all around him, ignorant or perhaps unaware or maybe even uncaring that he and Graywolf ruddaRumped underneath. “It sounds like everything’s talking,” he said.

“Everything is, Jamie. The world just waits for someone to listen.”


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A Tale of the Woods: The Little Flower

I started writing Tales of the Woods during Winter break in freshman year of my first time through college. In the mid 1990s I contributed a Tale each month to a New Age magazine. Sometimes I wonder if I should gather them together and publish them as a children’s book of some kind.… Read the rest

I started writing Tales of the Woods during Winter break in freshman year of my first time through college. In the mid 1990s I contributed a Tale each month to a New Age magazine. Sometimes I wonder if I should gather them together and publish them as a children’s book of some kind.

Let me know what you think.


A Tale of the Woods
The Little Flower

 
Once upon a time a beautiful flower rested in a Woods. All that came by stopped and wondered because few had seen a flower with petals so bright and stem and leaves so radiant. Many creatures stopped and sniffed the air as they passed, carrying with them the scent of her beauty. This flower, small and delicate and thirsting farther and farther, always reached for the rains and lights that brought her life.

One day as she sat and looked upon the hillside she noticed a lone elk wandering through the Woods. The elk walked strong and proud, his coat showing scars from the many contests he’d been in. Watching the else, she grew sad. “He is alone,” she said.

The elk didn’t come near the little flower at first. “Perhaps he can not see me,” she wondered. “Perhaps he is afraid.”

Each time she saw the elk she talked gently to him., each time the elk drew nearer to her. Finally he would come and sit beside the flower, telling her of things he’d done and things he’d do. The little flower listened and nodded. “We are not that different,” she thought. “We both have hopes and dreams.”

The elk came often and shared stories of the rest of the Woods and especially the things he had done, grateful for her listening and the time they had together.

One day the elk came bearing a long scar down his flank. He neither flinched nor stumbled as he moved but the little flower knew some horrible thing happened to him, something he would not share, something she could not understand.

But in all the Woods, the elk came to her for rest and comfort, for solace and quiet. Although only a small flower, she spread her leaves and stretched her petals as wide and as far over the elk as she could. And an amazing thing happened!

The little flower found that she wasn’t as little as she thought! Her leaves and flowers offered a shade the elk could find no where else in the woods; a place to rest and leave thoughts of conflict behind. She offered herself gladly to the elk, and the elk, unaware that the little flower had grown, slept quietly underneath.

Soon the elk awoke. He got to his feet and shook his mighty head, strengthened for the time he had beneath the flower’s leaves, the scent of her petals clinging to his coat.

The elk came and went many times thus. Each time the flower spread her leaves and petals. Each time her soft, flowery perfume rested upon his coat and gave him strength.

Each time the little flower thanked the Woods and all those in the Woods for her gifts. Many others came — small flurrying birds and scurrying little mice, wise old owls and ancient wizened oaks — to see the beauty of the little flower’s petals and leaves, and to heal their hurts with her gentle, fragrant scent.

But sometimes the love we give is not the love we receive.


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