Good morning, it has been a while. I have missed you. My book is in final edits and will be released soon, very soon. That is taking most of my time and that is why I haven't been blogging.
I have been sharing Facebook, Twitter, blogs and now Pinterest with you so that anyone who wants to have a peek inside the world of indie publishing can join me as I have written 'Fables of the Reconstruction'. It has been an interesting journey. I have made some great friends and discovered that the indie writer world is not that different from the world of indie music. However there are artistic differences.
Where indie music may have alcohol and drugs, indie writers appear to have alcohol, prescription drugs and children--a dangerous combination indeed. Where musicians have a duality of nature, one of which is the guy or girl next door and the other which takes the stage to become our rockstars, indie writers develop a series of personas, depending on which genre of writing they are exploring.
Writers are entertaining beyond belief! I have laughed until crying, cried uncontrollably at the suffering of loss experienced by another person, and watched fights breakout, all based on verbiage! It is fascinating! Most writers seems to get their ideas from tapping into a great cosmic unknown. It's as one writer explained, the story was given to her by the universe and she was allowed to write it. We tap into a vein of creativity, much like a miner finds a gold vein or a junkie finds a vein for their fix. On a personal level 'Fables' is based on a dream I had and as the book unfolded, the characters and plot developed on a subconscious level. Completely remarkable!
Then, there are the psychics or empaths. We apparently have to have guides to assist in what we are experiencing as the psychics come into play to explain what we have created and why. Some amazing empaths have crossed my path this week. One lady knew exactly what my writing habits are, and even knew insights into my personal life, which I never reveal. I have been fortunate enough to connect with a Voodoo madame. I have had a gentleman post on my book's page and outline why I am going to hell. (As I was schooled in strict Baptist schools, this is not the first time I have heard it.) All this bodes well for 'Fables', I do believe. The last two months have played out before my eyes like a Fellini film and I love it! In a past life, most writers must have been circus performers and we understand that the show must go on, as long as we document the experience.
As for 'Fables of the Reconstruction', I am beginning the marketing strategy now. The beautiful and talented Kharisma Rhayne, owner of No Boundaries Press will be interviewing me--my virgin interview--on Tuesday, October 2nd. Check us out at www.KharismaRhayne.com.
Fortunately, as a first time author, I have over 10 interviews scheduled in the next few weeks. A publication is picking up the story of 'Fables of the Reconstruction' in mid October. I have been invited by one of Atlanta's top magazines to be one of the Most Beautiful People in Atlanta. It's all very exciting, but more than saying something about me, it speaks of the new power of the indie writer. The indie writer is the new pioneer of the artistic world.
As for "Fables of the Reconstruction', I am beginning to have Hemingway moments. It seems that Hemingway agonized over his books every time he turned one in to be published. Not that I am in any respect on the Hemingway level--far, far from it! Just like he always did, I now believe I have written the worst book every written. But, you know what? I wrote a book. I am now an author. Not everyone can say that. I feel brave and crazy, all at the same time. Some people will like 'Fables', others won't.
It's all a roll of the dice baby, a roll of the dice...
Thursday, September 6, 2012
"Take the shine right off your shoes....Carryin' the bedroom blues..." Jagger/Richards
It had to happen one day. My male 'muse', my inspiration, and my partner in sexual adventure and I have decided to go our separate ways. My mind is still reeling from the aftershocks. However, it is something we both know has to be done. Everyone has to grow up at some point in their lives. Even though we have been lovers twenty years or so, losing him has left me shattered. We live different lives, in different cities but we have always had a physical connection that neither of us has been able to ignore. Not that either of us ever really wanted to ignore it. We have to give each other up because Peter is a dad now and I have a partner as well. We don't want anyone to get hurt.
I met Peter 20 some odd years ago. I can't tell you his occupation or what he looks like, but I will let you know we met in a hotel bar. When he walked in the room my body had a physical reaction. Everyone in our group was celebrating his engagement, even though it was the first time I had met him. As the night went on everyone left. Peter and I remained at the bar. Nothing was said until I looked at him and said, 'If you will break your engagement for one hour, you will never regret it.' His response? 'Let's go.'
As soon as the elevator doors closed and we found ourselves alone, we couldn't take our hands off each other. If elevators have a group equivalent to The Mile High Club, I am now a member. That wasn't enough. Peter and I had sex in the mezzanine lobby outside the elevator before we made it to his room. We still aren't certain how we managed that, unless the guys working the security cameras were just completely shocked and mesmerized.
Peter always said we didn't have a physical attraction to each other, we had a chemical reaction to each other. I was completely in love with him but he explained that it was only sex. Only sex. That was why merely hearing your lover's voice made your body weak with desire. We have an addiction to each other. We were lovers, sexual confidants and we were our own secret. Everyone needs a secret.
Peter did get married the year after we met. The day after he returned from his honeymoon he called me and we met each other for a night of sex. We only saw each other occasionally but the passion, the desire for each other has always remained. Once, I was in Amsterdam visiting my then fiancé. As fate would have it, Peter was in town as well. My fiancé and I had just returned to my hotel room following dinner. There was a knock on the door. It was Peter. I would tell you what happened next, but you'll just have to read the book one day. There are so many other escapades to relate to you, but I would rather not think about them right now.
I have never liked to say good-bye, I prefer to say see you later. But now I have to say good-bye to my favorite libertine and my fellow sexual adventurer. My muse is free. I wish him light, love and happiness always. Everything that ends is only the beginning of something new. Our interlude is like everything in life--the ending always happens too soon.
After Peter and I talked on the phone this morning I have looked for many different ways to distract myself. I've written this blog, played with my various social media outlets, watched three Jack White videos, wrote a magazine article and took one look at my latest zombie creation . The Jack White segment of the day did make me feel better, I have to admit.
In one month I have had my accident, ankle surgery and now this. Everything happens in cycles of three so my life seems to be on cycle, changing as the seasons change. Another chapter will open soon.
Peter and I did agree it would be nice to see each other one more time. I'll let you know what happens...
Thursday, August 30, 2012
It has been one week since my ankle surgery. My real life remains mine, so I won’t tell you what the exact surgery was, however I will share with you that it wasn’t for anything life threatening-just life style threatening. And, now all the good drugs are gone…well the opioids at least. I will be confined to our condo for at least six more weeks. So, here I am, right in the middle of Hotlanta, and I can’t go anywhere. It will probably be four months before I can actually begin anything close to what was once my normal life. The doctor says it will be a year before I return to normal activities. Whatever that means…
What these last few weeks since the accident have given me is the opportunity to create, which is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me. I have always written something, anything for anyone interested in publishing my stories. It just wasn’t my career. Now, I have the unique opportunity to explore through words what has always been lurking in the murky depths of my subconscious. I had absolutely no idea that I was so sick and twisted. I am one sick pup and it is great fun! Let’s just say I have been influenced by Anne Rice and Edgar Allan Poe much more so than Margaret Mitchell. I probably listened to a band called The Cramps a bit too much when I was a kid, too. Having a family cemetery probably figures in there somewhere, as well. But, those are all stories for another day!
One avenue I have been able to explore during my ‘Exile on Peachtree Street’ has been the world of the indie writers. Having spent the years of my incredible, folly filled youth in Nashville, I have long been accustomed to the camaraderie of the indie music scene. Now, I have discovered that the indie writer’s scene is just as creative and supportive as our musically inclined indie friend’s community. The outpouring and encouragement I have received to write anything, with no line being drawn on my creative sand, and without anyone messing in my creative sandbox, has been nothing short of a revelation, a veritable epiphany after my time spent in corporate America. The same concept applies with Facebook. I am enjoying my new found friends and I am truly amazed at the guidance and encouragement offered. It’s remarkable how creative a person can become when there are no guidelines.
One fun thing that has happened this week is my adventure into the world of Twitter. First warning, a person with ADD who is on opioids should never, never, ever, never, ever, ever go on Twitter. However, this little journey has landed me almost 1000 new friends in less than one week. Let’s just say, I appear to be famous among German rock bands, so a least someone understands me! (It really just reinforces my belief that women should connect with men that do not speak the same language, since men never seem to understand what we are saying anyway.) There again is another story for another day…So back to Twitter, the support of indie writers and publishers has been over whelming. It’s a beautiful thing. It really is. The writing community seems to understand, as do our indie alternative music friends, that name recognition is the first name of the game. It’s been a fun week on Twitter, and one that has made me laugh through an otherwise excruciatingly painful week. Now, I just have to figure out what a Shout Team is, how I got on one, and how to share in German.. That should be easy enough. Gawd…
Anyway, by Halloween I should have my first three short stories available. Who knows, maybe if I listen to Lux Interior sing ‘Life is short, filled with stuff, don’t know what for…’ one more time, I may have the book completed by Halloween…that is, if I can get off Twitter long enough to actually write something!
Stay tuned for the next exciting update and enjoy the August Blue Moon...oh, thank you for taking the time to read my first official blog.
Hunter S. Jones
Monday, August 27, 2012
'...tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow..' William Shakespeare
The 'Blog' is being built, and will not be available today. However, it will soon be posted on a regular schedule...let's say on Friday's. Not to worry, this is to be the musing of my imagination, so there's no children, no family issues, or any distractions of the political or religious realms. However, I am open to offers. I you want to connect with an idea and see where or how my minds bends it I can develop a fun romp and post it here. Let me know what you'd like to see, Jonesers.
August 27, 2012