One of the seminal reasons I opened this sporadic blog in the first place was for a venue to air my writing– some of it going back to high school, twenty years ago– that was mouldering on my hard drive without a chance to be read by readers. The story The Wolf’s Cry was one such, composed on college-rule loose-leaf in meticulous high-school cursive with number-two mechanical pencils. I managed to transcribe several pages at some point, then lost the manuscript, stumbled forward for a couple more chapters and stalled.
But just a few days ago, as my wife and I rummaged a box from the attic that hadn’t been opened since the oldest was in diapers, I pulled out a battered white three-ring binder. This was my original unfinished manuscript, to which the current version adheres generally for … Well, apparently just the first two chapters. There’s a lot even there that I’d cut out when I typed it the first time, and whole characters edited from existence beyond the first draft.
Needless as it may seem to say so, I’m going to be re-reading the draft and maybe even re-writing the chapters I’ve posted to this site. Will it ever make it (back) to paper? Only if I finish one or another of the drafts, methinks.
The sketch Glastonbury Abbey that I’d posted here in ’17 was taken down several months ago, to no great wailing (the page didn’t even register that anybody’d read it), and submitted with a slight
adjustment to the Impossible Hope charity anthology, now available. (For more about the anthology itself, read the editor’s entry here.) My piece is now published alongside L. Jagi Lamplighter, John C. Wright, Musaab Sultan, and Ben Wheeler. All worth reading.