ROOMS' TEASER: Chapter 1

(Trish Steele)

Rooms, my first novel, is nearing completion.  It will be published sometime in early 2014, so I thought I would include a link to the first chapter, which is directly below, as well as a summary of the book to give you an idea of what it's going to be about.

Click here to read the sample.

Rooms Summary

There was a time in Earth’s past when it could no longer sustain life, and a group of humans decided to leave the planet behind.  That group multiplied and spread throughout the galaxy.  Just as a person might skip across a shallow pond, moving from stone to stone, the human race gradually stretched across the Milky Way, jumping from one planetoid to another in the hope of finding another jewel, another Earth-like planet.  On each of these outposts, the humans lived inside protected settlements called lifeglobes.

In this time of exploration and colonization, the people in each of these desolate settlements developed extremely sophisticated holographic Rooms to entertain themselves and help fill the void that had been created by constantly having to live inside an enclosure, always separated from the outside, never being able to walk open and free beyond their home.

In one particular lifeglobe on planet R-131, rumors had spread about a Room that was unparalleled for its reality and difficulty.  All the best players were moving to R-131 to play this Room.  For some, it had become an obsession.  This Room, however, had not been designed for their entertainment or pleasure.  It had been created to change the course of human history.

Image of Door:

Trish Steel [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

ROOMS - Second major re-write completed

(Galaxia-y-Espacio-Exterior)

The second and final major re-write and edit of my book, Rooms, was completed today.  I can't believe it!

I've really loved going through it again, and I'm very excited about the book.  Writing the last five or six chapters was great fun.  I like the ending a lot!

Now, I'm going to leave it alone for a while, come back to it later and do the final read.  After that, I'll start working on trying to get it published.  What an experience!

Image of Galaxie above:

Galaxia-y-Espacio-Exterior. Digital Image. Http://www.artinaid.com. N.p., N.d. Web 16 Dec. 2013 

<http://www.artinaid.com/2013/04/earths-atmosphere-the-magnetosphere-and-outer-space/>.

Back To Work on ROOMS

(Trish Steele)

Still working on the second major re-write of Rooms.  I'm now up to chapter 24 of 31.  I'm finding that what I wrote most recently needs less work than the first 20 chapters or so.

When I finish going through the book this time, I really need to back away from it for a while during the holidays.  Then I'll be able to take a fresh look at it and go through it one more time, basically just reading it and making a few changes and edits.

I'm getting closer every day and hope to be ready to send it to a publisher in February of 2014.  I'm getting excited about completing it.

Image of Door:

Trish Steel [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

POETRY

I wrote this poem as I was traveling north of Galway in an area called the Burren.  The guide that I traveled with was very unique.  His stories deep, mystical, funny, and heartfelt.  His speech rhythmic and lyrical often repeating phrases twice in succession.  It was a trip that I'll never forget!

(Dusseault)

Her Magical Irish Sweater

Irish green landscapes glide tangibly by

In whimsical, melancholy shades and tones

Casting deep knowledge

Of old magic

Throughout my heart and life

Winter wind and rain cleanse and expand the creative soul

With a Burren of bare, harsh, minutely diverse flawlessness

Sharing ages and eons

Of billions of

Possibilities unknown

And alongside this exquisite reverie

I seem to feel the eyes and soul

Of a heart and love

So fine and true

As to bond and create

A sensual being

Of mind and body

A transformation

Of us, we two

Extending tactilely, visually, lovingly

Surrounding and holding her close

Touching first the garment

The braided, luxuriant wool

That lay on her skin

Keeping us negligibly apart,

Yet not

Her Irish sweater

A magical sweater

A mother lamb's gift

Enfolding her heart and dreams

Around love

Wrapping passions and life and mind

Into a womanly luxuriant package

Of deeply entwined

Fibers of wool

Seamlessly, without pause

As the kilometers flow by

As the limestone pads

Become reality

And permeate the day,

Along with myst and legend,

She and I

Find ourselves without concern

Touching, exploring, intermingling

Amidst the soft, slick, sensual fibers

Of her magical sweater

From that small, brilliant segment of time

Birds, plants, rocks, wind, sky, and rain

No longer exist beyond us

Environment and our singular forms fuse

Enduring without separation,

Without time

Among those fibers of luscious animal fleece

Our nerves and synapse explode and fire

Cinematizing thoughts, memories, and perceptions

As actuality, solubility, and existence itself

Alter our perception and mutate us

To a new dimension

Rock hewn fields

Her hands

Drops of rain

Our lips

Castles dripping with dew

A deep embrace

Ancient caves of limestone

Pulsing sweat and pleasure

Birds ebbing and coursing in flight

Bodies moving singly in union, in rhythm

Cliffs dizzily cascading vertically to the ocean

Eyes piercing, glazing and locking passionately

The ocean's power explodes against rock with magnificent spray and foam

Bodies lock and join in creational joy and dynamic flame

And dynamic flame

Quiet

Quiet

Rest

Becalmed,

Tranquil,

Silent

Becalmed

It's evening on the Burren's edge

The sunset rests the sea

While winds and rain and light subside

A lighthouse sits with me

A curved-winged gull paints segments

And arcs from shore to sky

But nature's there and I am here again

A window shades my eyes

It's winter as it should be

The world seems properly in place

But something's missing

Something's gone

And I cannot find its face

And then without the knowing

Or comprehending why

The digits on my left hand

Seek out the reason why

I force my eyes to look there

Where hand now knows the why

The magic of my love is gone

And emptiness abides

Yet where so close

She was with me

A soft, cream sweater lay

A textured present

That I know

I chose for her this day

I gazed at it in wonder

Thoughts churned and filled my head

My life and hers

Felt real to me

But a sweater sits instead

Oh, could this Irish sweater

With magic powers perform

A miracle

Transporting her

Back from ethereal form

The burren knows the answer

The Cliffs of Moher can say

The winds along the coastline

Can guide me on my way

The gulls can trace it in the sky

The rocks can teach the art

But only this fine sweater

Has the power

To unlock her Irish heart

Copyright © Bob Stegner 2005

Image of Sweater:

Dusseault, Lisa. Aran Jumper. Digital image. Wikipedia. Wikipedia, 19 Aug. 2003 Web. 09 Dec. 2013.

EDITING NOVEL

ROOMS

(Trish Steele)

This has been a great week.  I've edited about nine chapters of Rooms.  Since this is the second major re-write, the changes are fewer and more targeted.  I'm re-reading every paragraph for meaning and connection.  Connection, not only with what is in that particular paragraph, but the whole book and what came before and what will come after.

The small inconsistencies are less and less, and I'm working on simplifying the phrasing.  I've found that in my writing, I tend to try to describe too much sometimes.  I think this gets in the way of the easy flow of the story, and I've been doing my best to describe when needed, but only when it's important to do so.

I think I've also helped make the conversations more real by, again, changing some of the phrasing, thinking about how people speak in more casual ways.

I've also found that I tend to use some descriptive words more often than others, so I'm doing my best to create more diversity there and yet keep some normal phrasing, too.  It's not always the best thing to try to find "a different word" to say something.  Sometimes normal phrasing is the best.

I'm learning a lot! 

Image of Door:

Trish Steel [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Poetry

Moods, feelings, life' events, small moments, itches.  All of these create a spark inside, a memory, that sometimes comes out as a poem.

Two poems below:  Lunar Magic and The Coffeehouse.

Lunar Magic

A speck of luminescence

Spreading rays of calm

Across the dark earth

Across our eyes

Soft radiance

Bouncing from leaf to leaf

Pushing shadows

Into the deep of night

A song of hope

A melody in the dark of night

Causing eyes to gaze up

Causing lips to curl and smile

A grand dot

Punctuating a dark canvas

Splashing quiet and white

From horizon to horizon

The skies pupil

Oscillating with the seasons

Grabbing earth’s oceans

Moving the tides

Lunar Magic

Playing tricks on our minds

Changing and creating

An enchanted, mysterious night

Copyright © Bob Stegner 2004

The Coffeehouse

Seasons pass

Footsteps linger

Transient molecules

Of flavor

Float airborne

To comfort, soothe

And call us to

The coffeehouse

Countless souls can’t resist

Can’t stop inching

Toward the threshold

Of the round, brown, exhilarating

Aromatic signals

Emanating from within

Voices, melodies, and eagerness

Delicately create atmosphere

A place of calm

A sensual reunion

An energetic, enigmatic, olfactory

Home

Concoctions flourish

Within waves of recipes

While sweet confections

And old loving memories

Are handed out

At the glass counter

Of delight

A table

A spot by the window

By her, near him

A smile of openness

Of possibility

Pass and flow

Among the willing

A cup’s finger hole

Points the way to grasp

And lift the round liquid

With ready lips and palette prepared

For flavors of expanding light

Changed perspective

Enhanced intellect

And brightened humor

As time ebbs quietly

To the syncopated rhythm

Of music and language

Lips move

Pages turn

Eyes glance

And black and white photographs

On wine-colored walls gaze back

And create - the Coffeehouse

Copyright © Bob Stegner 2006