Tag: ENDWORLD – A Novel

New Website: ENDWORLD – A NOVEL and THE ENDWORLD SERIES

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I’d be remiss in my duties as a shameless self promoter at this juncture if I didn’t notify you all of the committed website I have created, “for everything and anything ENDWORLD – A NOVEL and THE ENDWORLD SERIES related.” The website can be linked HERE. It is also link-able via the RSS feed on my sidebar. Please, head on over and check it out. It’s a work in progress but I promise, soon it’ll have a lot more tantalizing info on it.

I won’t be removing “everything and anything” book-related from this blog, however. My goal is to maintain “Random Musings” indefinitely as my personal blog and reserve the ENDWORLD site for marketing purposes. I’ll do my best to cross-link the two of them when I can but no promises. Realistically? If you follow me here and are interested in reading my novel when I release it, I urge you to head on over to the new site and add it to your “follow” list. And please, tell all your friends, family, co-workers, neighbors, enemies et al about it. I’ll likely post links here, too, but there’s the hub of where the activity is going to be.

This AM, I received all of my final material from my formatter/designer. Before the sun had even come up over my side of the proverbial wormhole of existence I had uploaded the print version to Createspace, and the e-book versions to Amazon and NOOK. Nothing is available yet. I’m going to wait until Createspace accepts it and gives me a publication date before I announce a release date. I’m still shooting for May 1, 2013 but I’ll know better if that’s feasible in 24-48 hours.

So until then, stay tuned. And take care. Winky emoticon. Smiley face.

A Bedtime Story

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It is a surreal evening for your old friend the Madchronicler on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence, guys. In case you don’t follow me on Facebook or Twitter (and I’m not going to pitch those two sites, again; if you want to check them out you can link them via the “ABOUT ME” page of this blog), I just signed off on the final proofs for the e-book versions of ENDWORLD – A NOVEL. I did so while Natalie slept soundly upstairs (and hopefully will continue to do so despite the fifth tooth she has coming in, presently) and Cara sat beside me, her eyes glued to an episode of “Dora the Explorer.” We were a vision of the 21st Century tech family: Me with my laptop opened on my lap and her with the iPad opened on hers. I wish I’d taken a picture. But there’ll be plenty of time for that in the days, months and years ahead.

After her episode of Dora ended and after I “slept” my laptop, we commenced our nightly routine: We called Nicole and said goodnight. We brushed our teeth. We took our Pinkalicious and Purplicious vitamins (the former for Cara’s ear infection). We went upstairs, has a drink of water and Cara climbed into bed. I told her I loved her and that I’d see her in the morning. And then? Cara asked me to tell her a story.

“What kind of story?” I asked her.

“A Nemo story,” she responded.

Jesus, I thought, Nemo, again? I opened my mouth and started to tell it but then I stopped myself. I asked her if she wanted to hear a different story. She asked me which one and I told her the following:

Once upon a time, there lived a little boy who never could quite fit in no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t really good at sports and he was kind of shy. But the one thing he could do well was write. And he loved writing. His first story that he ever wrote was a full-length short story about meeting his then-musical idol. He even illustrated it. As he got older, his interests branched out and he started writing about other things. Book reports and term papers, at first. Essays, too, but not just essays about history and literature. He wrote essays for fun.

Then, sometime around his 17th or 18th Birthday, he started writing a novel. That novel? He realized pretty quickly that it stunk really badly. He shelved it and reconsidered writing something as daunting as a full-length novel. But then, one summer day, he was inspired by a musty basement and the promise of a vacation that he would be going on in a week. So he started another novel. That novel? He kept writing it. After months and months of working on it he finally reached the end, and in a fit of composing that he has been unable to duplicate since, he completed it. He wrote the words “THE END” on the last page. And then? 

He kicked the power cord out of the wall and his computer shut off. And he realized that he had neglected to save the last 15 pages he had typed on his old, 286 HP with the Monochrome Screen. He thought about giving up then, too, but in the end? He decided that he wanted to finish what he’d started. So he stayed up all night and he did. And as the sun rose outside, he wrote “THE END” a second time. And that time? He remembered to save it. He was a shade over 19 then and he had completed his first novel. In his mind, the sky was the limit. 

But over time? Life interfered. He fell in love, had his heart broken, fell in love again, went away to school, had his heart broken again, had many life experiences, met many new people who have remained his friends… his brethren, since, graduated college, embarked on a career, rose up through the corporate hierarchy of Today’s Neighborhood Drugstore, fell in love again, didn’t have his heart broken, abandoned his “career” after 13 years, started a new one, got married, bought a house, had a couple of kids, flirted with a Master’s Degree, missed a requirement by 0.25 points, decided to hold off on school and then? Finally? After years and years of toying with the idea, he picked up the novel he had written “THE END” on the last page of 15 years previously and started over. He rewrote it… rebuilt it from its foundation up. And at long last? He completed it, wrote “TO BE CONTINUED” and not “THE END” on the last page of it and began the task of preparing it for publication. He succeeded. And on April 22, 2013 at approximately 8:45 PM while his daughter sat next to him playing on the iPad and the Phillies game played in the background? He clicked the “SEND” button on an email and posted to Facebook and Twitter simultaneously:

“Proofs? Signed off on. It is now safe to COMMENCE HAPPY DANCE!”

The End.

By the time I had finished speaking, Cara’s eyes had grown heavy and she was teetering on the border between sleep and wakefulness. But she opened her eyes briefly and asked me, “What was the little boy’s name, Daddy?” I smiled and ran my fingers through her Rapunzel-esque long hair and replied with, “What do you think his name was, Bear?” Do you know what her response to that was fellow denizens of this, my subjective reality?

I sh*t you not. Her response? “Frank.” Yep. In my moment of triumph and serendipity, I was PWN’d by my almost four year old daughter. Don’t believe me? Ask her yourself. Cara’s as sharp as a tack. Some days I swear that she’s four going on 16. But do you know what? I wouldn’t have it any. Other. Way. While her attitude is often enough to make the short hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and she’s spent her share of time in a time out since she turned three almost a year ago, I’m pleased with her development as a person. She’s always been fiercely independent… always been able to manipulate Daddy and Mommy. I don’t see it as a flaw, though. I see it as character. Because really? When I or Nicole need her to help us clean up, or bake Pinkalicious cupcakes, or play with her sister et cetera, et cetera, nine out of 10 times she does it. I’ll trade a little back talk and PWN’ing for 80-90% cooperation any day of the week, won’t you?

And that, guys? That’s my bedtime story this momentous evening in late April of 2013. It’s funny: I haven’t even published the damn thing yet and already I feel at peace. I guess the whole publication-thing is academic at this juncture, right? I mean, I’m going to publish it, and I’m going to do so soon. And people are either going to like it or not like it. Some may love it and some may despise it. But in the immortal words of a once little known, soon to be widely (I hope) known tragic hero of modern fiction named William MacNuff:

I write the following account not to heal the ills of a sick and twisted world: A world of lush forests at dusk grown cold by the emergence of chrome and steel. A world in which a concept like hope is extinct, drowned as all things once youthful and optimistic by the rivers of blood that flow down the distant, eight-lane, asphalt super Highway…

No. I write the following account to heal myself.

I write… I wrote ENDWORLD – A NOVEL originally to heal myself. Originally. In the end, though? I wrote it not just for me, but for Cara. For Natalie. For all of you: My fellow inhabitants of this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence. It’s yours, now. Enjoy it. I’ve got another one that I need to get working on.

For those that have inquired about a date of publication, I’m targeting May 1, 2013. May 1 = May Day which feels very symbolic to me. Furthermore, the publication date is not the last little bit of news that I will be providing you in the near future. I’m working on a couple of other… things that I hope to launch simultaneously with the book. They’re still in process, right now, but as soon as they are ready to go, rest assured: I will let you know.

And with that? I. Am. Done. For this evening, that is. Your old buddy the Madchronicler will be back real soon. But for now? Frank Marsh is going to get some sleep. G’Night, all.

Another Quick Hit: Big News!

The Madchronicler2 Comments

Hey, everyone. I just posted this to my Facebook Author Page and via Twitter, but I also wanted to announce something here for those of you that only know me from “Random Musings.” BREAKING NEWS ALERT:

Low Carb, Monster Energy Drink in hand, I just finished going through the e-book proofs for ENDWORLD – A NOVEL and sent them back to my designer for final corrections. Barring anything unforseen, I should have all of the material that I need completed, in hand and ready to go within the next few days. Once that’s done, I will be publishing the book through Createspace (Tentatively $14.99 for a 6X9, 448 page print edition which will also be available from Amazon), Amazon and Barnes and Noble (Tentatively $3.99 for the e-book). I also plan to publish the e-book through Smashwords eventually, making it available in the iBookstore, for the Kobo and for the Sony Reader, likely for $3.99 as well. But the initial run is going to be an on-demand print, Kindle and Nook run.

And there you have it, guys. The big day is almost here. I’d say “commence Happy Dance” but I’m not going to do that until after I have everything in hand and ready to go. But my level of psych-a-tude just went through the roof. Not even the dead possum in my backyard which I had Delco Pest Control come and remove a little while ago (I couldn’t see any injuries so I had no idea what it died from and decided to err on the side of caution) can bring me down. Then again, that could also be the Low Carb Monster Energy Drink talking.

Anywhos, stay tuned here and all across my electronic footprint as I will hopefully be announcing a publication date shortly. Thank you, again, for all of your support! Take care, and have a great weekend!

ENDWORLD – A Novel has a Cover!

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That’s not a misprint, guys. Nor is the new picture in my header one. ENDWORLD – A Novel now has a cover. I just got permission from my phenomenal designer Damon (whose website you can link HERE) to show it publicly. My header only shows you a portion. The complete cover looks like this:

Endworld_08

How am I feeling? Hmm. Good question. I’d say that I’m super psyched but that’s pretty much a given. I’d say that I’m cautiously optimistic after objectively rereading it but that’s obvious. I’ve been happy with my creation since I first started it so many, many moons before tonight’s. There was never a question of whether or not I’d like it. The only question was whether or not others would, and based on the mainly positive response the Prologue has gotten (linkable HERE, BTW) it appears that a handful of people do. Granted, that’s just the Prologue but still, it’s a promising sign.

I’d say that I’m a bit drained from not just reviewing and “tweaking” the cover and the proof, but from the whole process that I’ve been involved in for an eternity but that, too, is academic at this juncture. I’d say all these things… did, in fact, say all these things but none of them matter now. How am I feeling? In short, guys? Ready. I’m ready to put this beast of a novel out there… out here and see what happens. End rant.

I wrote in my last blog post that there are a hundred and one people to thank: A hundred and one people who in some way, shape or form influenced the creation of ENDWORLD – A Novel. People that were there at the beginning, were there in the middle and are here now. I further said that I’m not including an acknowledgement page in the book because A.) There are just too many people to thank and B.) I don’t want to leave anyone out. However, I feel obligated to express my gratitude to a few individuals. Doing so may seem premature, and doing so here on “Random Musings” may seem odd, but what the f*ck? I need to. So here goes.

I’ve already mentioned Damon and his brother Benjamin, the latter of whom is formatting the book for both e-publication and print publication. They’ve been terrific, and have put up with my anal retentiveness since moment one. They really “got” me and what I wanted to do, which if you know me you know is not the easiest thing in the world to do. The above cover may not appeal to everyone, but here’s a little factoid for you: Before I even signed them on I did a sketch of what I wanted the cover to look like. I never showed them the sketch, I simply gave them a few, minor details about it and asked them to roll with them. They nailed my idea almost perfectly. And the interior? Well, I haven’t seen the finished product yet but if draft one was any indication? It’s going to be sharp. Minimalist, yes, but that’s the way I wanted it. No flourishes or design elements. I’m not writing a Nicholas Sparks book, after all. That’s no knock on Nicholas Sparks (I loved THE TIME TRAVELLER’S WIFE), but it’s not me. It’s not ENDWORLD – A Novel.

Moving on, I cannot thank my editor, Amy, enough for the amount of work she put into cleaning up the book for publication. She did so with little fanfare. She put up with an incessant amount of text messaging and Facebook messaging from me about this, that and the other thing throughout, and offered insight, not just about how the book was written, but about different things that happened in it, i.e. plot points, “flow,” et cetera et cetera when she didn’t really have to. She did so while remaining true to my voice and my style of writing throughout and if it takes off? If it, as my wonderful wife said, becomes the next Twilight or Hunger Games? Well, I honestly don’t think it will (that’s a lot of lightning in a bottle to catch, guys) but if it does even modestly well? I will have her to thank. So I’m thanking her now. She has my eternal gratitude.

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my family and my friends for their support, throughout, as well. My real life brethren? My mom and my sister, Katie? My Uncles, Aunts, Cousins and In-Laws? Some have been needling me for almost 20 years–ever since I first gave many of them an autographed copy of ENDWORLD, version one for Christmas back in the mid-1990’s–to do what I’m doing right now and I guess I finally listened to them. Vato, Jeebus, Hungerford and Carole? Carey, AP, Ed-san, the Mol-ster, Petey-Max, Kimberly and Jackson? Even the ones that I don’t really speak with anymore. You all know who you are. And those of you that don’t? You may once you read the book. My little joke a few weeks ago about “any resemblance to people and places not being intentional?” There’s a reason for that. But I won’t go any deeper into it than that. You’ll find out soon enough. Hopefully by the end of the month if everything goes according to plan.

In particular, though, I need to single out one friend who was an invaluable help to me over the last year, ever since I completed draft one and sent it out to my first dozen Beta readers. That friend read that draft, sat me down over a beer and told me what he thought of the book. And then? After I completed draft two? He did so again. And again. And again. He has been a sounding board throughout the revision process and has told it “like it is” every time. He never once tried to stroke my ego or make me feel like my book was better than it actually was. He never told me it sucked, either, but that’s beside the point. He never told me what to write, but he took my overabundance of ideas and helped me give them structure. Matt? Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, soul and mind. I wouldn’t be here right now without your assistance.

I could go on. I feel like I should go on. But its getting late and hey: I just got my latest proof back from Benjamin (guess what I’m doing tomorrow night?). I feel like I’m missing someone. Someone important. Someone who is arguably the most important influence in my life presently, and has been for the last decade plus. Back when I first met the then-Nicole Gentile in 2001, ENDWORLD was a virtual non-entity. It was a book that I’d written back in the early and mid-1990’s that profiled my late teen, and early adult angst. Nicole knew I was a writer when she first met me, despite the fact that I was managing her CVS/Pharmacy. She knew that I’d written a couple of books. She knew how important it was to me to revise them and one day publish them. She encouraged me then and continued to encourage me for years. Once or twice, she even said to me (when I told her of a new idea that I’d come up with), “why don’t you just rewrite the ENDWORLD books. You know it’s what you want to do.”

Admittedly? Nicole never thought my fiction was my best writing. She’s always been and remains partial to stuff like this blog entry and I promise, Nicole: One day I will publish something non-fiction that includes “The Doctor McDreamy Unappreciation Thread.” But despite that, she understood how important those books were to me… are to me. And when I restarted this process back in 2011, I told her one warm, late April night that rewriting ENDWORLD was going to eat up a lot of my time and brain power. I warned her in advance of the nights when she would come home from work and find me sitting on the couch with my laptop open on my lap and the “Tron: Legacy” soundtrack playing over its speakers. I told her that I might not even be able to acknowledge her with more than a mumbled “hi” or a grunt. “That’s how I write, sweetie,” I told her.

Her response? “I know. And I understand.” And she did. She never “got in my grill” about it and she never got pissy. She let me go and go and go and now? Look at where I am. That, guys? That’s not just understanding. That’s love. True love. That’s acknowledging the importance of something to your significant other and letting it happen no matter how quiet the living room gets. I know I talk a lot about her and some of you may be sick of it. But understand something: No one has ever “gotten” me the way she does. Regardless of the success or failure of this endeavor, I am the luckiest man in the whole f*cking universe on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence. Because of her. Because of what she’s given me. And that, friends? That’s where I’m going to leave this little “quick hit.” 

G’Night, all. Winky emoticon. Smiley face.

ADDENDUM: Not only does it have a cover, but this PM, I signed off on the final proof for the print edition of it. I have posted samples to my Facebook Author Page as well as to Twitter if anyone is interested in checking them out. I’m not going to post them here because, for lack of sounding too fabulous, white against a white background doesn’t make a lot of sense. Please, take a look and let me know your thoughts, critiques, compliments et al. Thank you, everyone! 

In Which I Shelve “Sh*theads” so as to not Further Anger My Potential Reader Base

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Good Morning, Afternoon, Evening or Night fellow Sh… err, fellow denizens of my subjective reality on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence. Note that I stalled before writing “Sh*thead.” There’s a reason for that. A friend of mine informed me the other day that regardless of my ongoing contention about the term “Sh*thead” not being derogatory, it could still be construed as such by one or two people. He suggested a new strategy moving forward: That rather than potentially insult anyone, I should not use the term “Sh*thead” in the immediate future, especially in light of what is presently transpiring. I am, of course, referring to the imminent publication of my first book, ENDWORLD – A Novel.

A quick update on that for those of you reading this that are new to my mind and my world: ENDWORLD – A Novel remains in the capable hands of my chosen designer and formatter (is “formatter” even a word?). I am awaiting the first proofs of both the e-book version and the print version. Once I have them, the potentially laborious process of “tweaking” the design will begin. As much as I’d love to settle on a cover and an interior right away, I know that it’s not feasible. After all, I’ve waited almost 20 years for this moment. I want to do it right. Right?

When I do go “live” with the book I promise that next to me, my wife and my kids y’all will be the first people to know. So sit tight. It’s coming. Hopefully before Memorial Day, just in time for the summer reading season, thus completing the vicious circle that began many, many moons ago one summer in the basement/Periodical Room of a library in Wyncote, Pennsylvania. Back then, all ENDWORLD – A Novel was was an idea and a dream. It evolved into a scene and from there, it evolved into a Prologue, typed on my old 286 computer in Courier Font. If you’ve been following my random musings for a while, you know the rest. Fast forward to this unseasonably warm day in April of 2013 and my dream is close to becoming a reality. There have been a hundred and one people that have inspired me along the way (and that’s no exaggeration, guys), and it would take me a while to list them all. Instead, I’ll let the book’s dedication speak for itself:

This novel is dedicated to my companions. My brethren. My friends. The once and future inspiration behind its conception.

Je t’aime. 

For those of you that have never taken French, “Je t’aime” means “I love you.” Don’t worry: I never took French either. Nor did I take Latin. I was a Spanish guy from high school through college. That didn’t stop me from using both languages and no Spanish in the novel (I never was very good at Spanish, anyway). Someone once taught me how to both say and spell “Je t’aime” and the lesson? It has stuck with me since. I am eternally grateful for that. And to everyone else that has been there along the way. The finished product may be my words, but every one of you had a part in its development. That doesn’t mean I’m going to be dishing out royalties to you. Sh*t, the darn thing has to make money first. As I promised someone on Facebook the other day, if this book launches a writing career, I’ll buy the beer for a while. That said…

Back to Sh*theads. My aforementioned friend and I bantered back and forth a bit about me posting a retraction on my blog, i.e. instead of an Appreciation, an Anti-Appreciation of Sh*theads or something similar. Sadly? I’m not going to do that. The term “Sh*thead” is as much a part of my vernacular at this point as the word “aforementioned.” But I concede that  he has a point, and from the end of this blog forward, I will no longer refer to people, myself included as “Sh*thead.” Note that I wrote “from the end of this blog forward.” Before  I abandon the term indefinitely, I’d like to take a few moments and reflect back over its sordid history, not just on “Random Musings” versions one and two, but pre-“Random Musings,” back when I and my brethren all lived in and around Jenkintown, Pennsylvania and no one lived anyplace else.

It’s difficult to pinpoint when, exactly, I first wrote or said “the world is full of Sh*theads.” My V-D Day ponderance? My Y2K one? Back then, I didn’t consider myself a Sh*thead. I mentioned this before but it bears repeating for the newbies: I used to believe that a Sh*thead was, in essence, a Nine to Fiver. Someone that wakes up at the same time every Monday through Friday, goes to work, takes the same lunch break, goes home and goes to bed. Rinse and repeat.

But then something intriguing happened. I became one. A Nine to Fiver. A Sh*thead. All of those people that I was referring too back in my early 20’s? If I haven’t already I implore your forgiveness, now. It was a weird time for me. A time filled with copious amounts of alcohol, herbal refreshment, feminine banes, dungeons, poems, sleep deprivation and Animal Planet. Not to mention mountains of debt and a black, Dodge Neon Sport commissioned “The Wraith (est. 1998).” I knew not whereof I spoke.

Being a Sh*thead is not a bad thing when you view it in that context. It’s a good thing. It’s normalcy. The fact that I’ve attained any degree of normalcy in my almost 38 year life on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence is still shocking to me. Considering where I was less than 15 years ago and where I am now? Yeah. If you knew me then and you know me now you likely “smell what I’m cookin’.”

I wonder if there are people out there now that look at people like me the same way I used to look at people like me. Me with my graying, fraying hair and the two spots of white in my once-three toned, now four-toned beard. Me, the guy who sits at a desk every Monday through Friday (and every fourth Saturday) from eight to five or five thirty running an office and helping people with their hydraulic and pneumatic needs. I can hear them snickering at me from within a cloying cloud of blue-gray pot smoke. “Look at him,” I can hear them saying in alcohol choked voices, “look at that Sh*thead. Man, I’m never going to be ‘that guy.'”

Guess what, pal? You say that now when you’re sharing an apartment that smells like feces with two of your friends and living off of Ramen Noodles and powdered iced tea. But 10 years… 15 years from now when you’re married with a job, kids, a mortgage, a spare tire around your once-chunky, but now drooping waist and white spots in your beard/gray streaks in your hair? You’ll understand better. Me? Yeah, I’m a Sh*thead. But for the most part, I’m happy with my normal life. I’m happy with my wife, my job, my kids and my house (my spare tire? Not so much though I do think the white spots in my beard make my look distinguished). I haven’t smoked weed in a long, long time and the last time I did? Let’s just say the experience was highly un-enjoyable. I do still drink on occasion, but rarely to excess and I haven’t had a package of Ramen Noodles since roughly 2010. Powdered iced tea, though? Yeah. It and my spare tire go hand-in-hand.

I like normal. Normal is less stressful than Abby-normal. Normal allows me the time to write (or rewrite) a novel and the money to self-publish it. Admittedly, Uncle Sam had a little to do with that last, as well. It was a good 2013 for the Marsh clan. You can call me a Sh*thead if you want but buddy? Once upon a time (’cause all good stories begin as such), I was where you are, thinking the same way that you did. I’d wager many of us were. But now? We’re the end products of sociological evolution on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence. See if you feel the same way when you’re where we are, now. Until then, as Dave Matthews sang, “eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” Okay, maybe not “die” but age? Become Nine to Fivers, AKA Sh*theads? Definitely. That is the way of things. The way of the Force. End needless “Star Wars” shout-out.

I’m not going to lie: There are days when I miss the carefree lifestyle of my early 20’s. Back when I could rage until three in the AM and still get up two hours later to unload a truck at CVS, 45 minutes away from my little, two bedroom hovel in Jenkintown and thereafter, Northeast Philadelphia. Back when I had the tolerance of an elephant and not that of a dying field mouse. Back when I would take spur of the moment road trips with a friend or two (or four) in my spiffy black, Dodge Neon Sport, “The Wraith.”” Back when ENDWORLD – A Novel was still just ENDWORLD, the main character’s name was not William but Roland and the book itself? It was little more than a Fictional Autobiography that drew heavily upon movies like “The Terminator” and shows like “The Wonder Years” for inspiration. I’ve said this before, too: There are elements of both still in it, even now in it’s completed version, but those elements are no where near as prevalent as they once were. Nothing more than occasional homages to the aspects that originally inspired it. I can see them, and I’m sure a few of the people that read the original draft of the book back then will see them, as well. But for the most part? It’s new. A product of my mid-30 something, now late-30 something mind. Is it improved? Well, guys? That’ll be for you to decide. I’ve still got the original at home in a black binder under lock and key. I could always publish it if the new version tanks.

Will I? Probably not. Doing so would be the equivalent of publishing the first ever short story that I wrote. It would be the equivalent of dusting off, finishing and publishing THE OAKS. Yes, THE OAKS. There’s only one or two people I know now that know about that one. Believe it or not? ENDWORLD was not my first attempt at writing a novel. THE OAKS was. I was 17 or 18 when I began it. It was a story about a guy that dies and wakes up in an old, abandoned retirement community that is populated by ghosts, one of whom–Jerry–resembles Jerry Garcia. I made it about 50 pages in before I realized that all it was was a “Beetlejuice” retread and shelved it.

Shortly thereafter I found myself reorganizing the Periodical Room of a library in Wyncote, Pennsylvania. it was summertime, and I was thinking about my upcoming, yearly vacation in Cape May, New Jersey. I was suddenly struck with a notion: How cool would it be to see someone sunning him or herself on the beach while reading a book with my name on it? As I continued organizing and alphabetizing, a scene began to take shape in my mind and I immediately ran for the old, manual typewriter that I’d been using to type on blue, check out cards. I grabbed an empty one and started. By the time that I was done, the opening words of the final chapter of the original version of ENDWORLD were written. That blue card? It, like my 286 is now lost to history (but not THE OAKS; I still have that one). While it was the beginning of something, it was just that: A beginning.

Writing a book? It’s a lot like life, guys. Both have a beginning: A birth. The older both get the more refined both become. What was once a product of naivete–like trying to describe making love when you’ve never made love before–matures. Grows. Eventually? Something amazing happens. You finish writing your book, and you begin the process of either having it published or self-publishing it. And as you get down to that long awaited moment where you go “live” with your creation? You realize that unlike life which has one beginning and one ending, your book? Contextually it has one of each: One “once upon a time” and one “and they lived happily ever after.” But metaphorically? That moment when you make it available to the world is a second birth. That’s where the two ideas finally diverge from each other. What happens after that should be of no consequence to you. You’re not in this for the money, right? Well, maybe some of you are but for me? It’s never been about that. For me, it’s always been about that second birth. Regardless of ENDWORLD A Novel‘s success or failure, I did it. I got my second birth. At almost 38…

Me. A self-proclaimed Sh*thead. I used to think that Sh*theads never got that chance. Apparently, they do.

And with that? I am officially shelving the term “Sh*thead” until such time as I, my friend and any of my potential reader base offended by it deem it fit to return. Let my close by thanking… who else? All of my fellow once-Sh*theads, a few of whom I hope will buy my book when it becomes available, sometime pre-Memorial Day, 2013, and read it while sunning on a beach somewhere. For me? That would be full circle. A dream come true.

Je t’aime, friends.