It Lives!

Ah, this novel has become the albatross hanging around my neck.... I need wind in my sails! Ha! Oh well, it's okay. It's like a big piece of cake I come back to now and again to take a bite out of. Eventually, I'll be done with the whole thing and, when people ask, I can still say it was a piece of cake to write -- eh? :)

At any rate, I'm off to my new start but I've been distracted with the daily struggles of life these past few months -- really working on the lowest rungs of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Now, things are settling down though and I've recently had more time to refocus on "my craft or sullen art...."

I'll start carrying a digital camera around with me and photographing things around town. As the pics collect, I'll post them here and on facebook to let anyone who might be interested have a look-see. [Thanks to Lucia Stanica for the inspiration to get me back to my shutterbug self again, btw.]

Novel: Update

About ten thousand words into this novel, I've decided to start from scratch. I'm not changing the story but the way in which I tell the story. Specifically, I've moved from a first-person, limited pov to something else. It's a sort of meta perspective I feel is more appropriate to the story and makes it more interesting for the reader.

Strangely enough, by tossing the old way of telling the story into the shit-can, I feel as if I've made a huge leap ahead in the writing of this book. I feel liberated from something stale and still; fallen into something dynamic and exciting.

Novel: Update

Now that I've gotten the actual format of my novel settled, I've focused on the timeline and am happy to report I've got that settled as well. The exact dates are in place and all that remains now is to make the entries required.

I've been flirting with creating a dossier for each of the main characters and feel I may actually begin that process tomorrow. I want to create an actual folder for each character -- complete with photos downloaded from the internet at random (likely photobucket). Sorry random people I select to be the physical representatives of my characters. What can I say? I selected you because I have good taste!

Okay -- back to work now....

Poem: "Luna"

Luna

O, white and tranquil summer moon,
Silent disk of placid light,
Let me never see another noon,
But live forever in this night.

The clouds endeavor to hide your face,
But their existence is fragile and they soon divide,
As I who live to see your grace
Ride a ripple of life that will soon subside.

But you, sweet moon, will yet remain
To light the night for children's eyes,
And by your light will lovers love,
And mothers sing their lullabies.

~Mike Duron (Alaska, 1999)

Poem: Sonnet No. 8

The Spider

I have a spider my ex-wife called me
to kill. He'd fallen into her shower
and couldn't climb out of the tub. To see
him there, at a point in his life lower,
obviously, than any he'd ever known
before -- a point in his life just like mine,
I think, where she could have killed him and shown
some kindness, his quick death being a sign
of her understanding -- just warmed my heart.
I caught him up in some tissue and brought
him home. He has crickets now -- and my art.
I'm sure he can't know he's even been caught.
Spiders are dull -- about as dumb as bricks;
I just keep him 'cause he doesn't get ticks.

~Mike Duron (composed December 26th, 2001)

Poem: Sonnet No. 7

Fragile Friendship

People tease you about my love, don't they?
How strange to have this strange poet love you.
A penniless harlequin just won't do
when your beauty demands a knight to slay
dragons -- to rule kingdoms -- one who can say
dead and hollow things and make them sound true
(and with eloquence and arrogance too);
a well-heeled shoe to lay, love, and obey.
There was a time though, when your heart called out
to me with a sidelong glance and a smile,
when love's flower turned yellow-green and young.
It seemed to me there was nothing to doubt
back then it was happy flirting, not guile,
that made my old love yellow-green and young.

You shouldn't have let them hold your tongue.
Your lover is your heart, your friends your mind.
One makes you human, the others unkind.

In the end, with your friends, you will find
love like ours is all that really matters;
it endures, while fragile friendship shatters.

~Mike Duron (composed December 25th, 2001)

Poem: Sonnet No. 4

Rainbows in My Attic

As we sat there at the table, I said,
"You know I have feelings for you, don't you?
You're only being nice...." Then you nodded your head,
slightly, and you turned to me smiling and you
looked as if you didn't want to kill me
but you had to kill my hopes -- tenderly
(like a little foal with a broken knee
or an old dog you put down -- tenderly).
I smiled back then and helped you with the ropes.
"I'm not a kid," I said, and, "It's okay."
That's when you rose to leave and all my hopes
died at the gallows -- where they hang today.
But isn't that so melodramatic?
Hopes are rainbows I make in my attic.

~Mike Duron (composed December 17th, 2001)