During the day, I'm a horticulturist. While I've spent much of my career designing landscapes or diagnosing dying plants, I've always been a storyteller. My writing career began with magazine columns, landscape design textbooks, and a gardening column at the Post and Courier (Charleston, SC). However, I've always fancied fiction.
My grandpa never graduated high school. He retired from a steel mill in the mid-70s. He was uneducated, but he was a voracious reader. I remember going through his bookshelves of paperback sci-fi novels, smelling musty old paper, pulling Piers Anthony and Isaac Asimov off shelf and promising to bring them back. I was fascinated by robots that could think and act like people. What happened when they died?
I'm a cynical reader. I demand the writer sweep me into his/her story and carry me to the end. I'd rather sail a boat than climb a mountain. That's the sort of stuff I want to write, not the assigned reading we got in school. I want to create stories that kept you up late.
Having a story unfold inside your head is an experience different than reading. You connect with characters in a deeper, more meaningful way. You feel them, empathize with them, cheer for them and even mourn. The challenge is to get the reader to experience the same thing, even if it's only a fraction of what the writer feels. Not so easy.
In 2008, I won the South Carolina Fiction Open with Four Letter Words, a short story inspired by my grandfather and Alzheimer's Disease. My first step as a novelist began when I developed a story to encourage my young son to read. This story became The Socket Greeny Saga. Socket tapped into my lifetime fascination with consciousness and identity, but this character does it from a young adult's struggle with his place in the world.
After Socket, I thought I was done with fiction. But then the ideas kept coming, and I kept writing. Most of my work investigates the human condition and the meaning of life, but not in ordinary fashion. About half of my work is Young Adult (Socket Greeny, Claus, Foreverland) because it speaks to that age of indecision and the struggle with identity. But I like to venture into adult fiction (Halfskin, Drayton) so I can cuss. Either way, I like to be entertaining.
And I'm a big fan of plot twists.
A name was tattooed on his finger. Marcus woke in a cell. No memory of how he got there or what his name was. Just a tattoo. There were others like him. They called this place unreality. They told him this was where someone was hiding him....
Great aunt Annie was a storyteller. It was mostly Christmas stories she told. No one had ever heard her tales about giant reindeer, living snowmen, and Santa Claus. There were no movies about them. No books. When she passed away, everyone thought they’d never hear such stories again....
There is no escape. There never was. Freddy Bills is retired. Back in the day, he was fishing people out of unreality tanks and pulling needles from their heads. That was when it was against the law. Now everyone is doing it, including him....
Ronin (The Last Reindeer): A Science Fiction Adventure
Claus Series, Book 6
Spieldauer: 8 Std. und 14 Min.
0 out of 5 stars
0 out of 5 stars
0 out of 5 stars
This is Ryder’s last stop. It’s a half million acre ranch and home to 40 teenagers. It’s also home to a famous and eccentric philanthropist with a peculiar obsession with the North Pole. His name is Billy “Big Game” Sinterklaas....
Drayton can’t leave the Lowcountry. He once believed he was a vampire when he terrorized villages and slaughtered for blood. Now he absorbs essence from the dying’s final breath and rarely stays in one place. He has been in the Lowcountry far too long. Everything is about to change....