I took almost a 3 week hiatus from writing. If you've been following me since I've begun this journey of writing, all the way back to 2009, you'll know that this isn't that surprising. But I do have to admit that this has been the longest time I've gone without putting a pen to paper, or I guess in modern terminology, fingers to the keyboard.
Why, might you ask? Plain and simple - I've been discouraged. I put in so much time writing and lately, not much is happening in return. This blog post isn't a complaint fest so I'll not say much more about it. I'm going to leave the bad news off with this comment - please... PLEASE leave feedback for writers. It lets us know how we're doing. A review, an email, a tweet, a follow on Facebook or a comment - anything you can, even if it's just a few words. Even if you hated the book. And if you wanted a second (or third or fourth) book, the best way to inspire us to write faster is doing something stated above. I'll love you forever!
Now, if I haven't completely lost you and you haven't clicked on the X at the top of the screen, on to the good news. I actually sat down this morning and wrote. I wrote a lot! Almost 4,000 words in the span of about an hour and a half. I guess taking a break did the muse good. Or maybe it was the long run I took when I tried to get things sorted in my head. Who knows? But it put me over 40,000 words on Drought Warning: The Damaged Climate Series Book 2. I have had a few people ask me when to expect the release of that book and I'm now back to working hard on getting it out. Hopefully a late fall, early winter release. We will see how motivated I stay.
And now, just to hopefully get some more interest on this series, I'm going to post a small preview of what Book 2 has to offer. It is part of my (very) rough draft, so if you see typo's or problems, feel free to let me know, but also keep in mind that it hasn't been edited yet! Hope you enjoy!
The grass crackled under
Ryan’s boots, making the unsettling feeling in the pit of his
stomach even more prominent. With his father’s dry, unproductive
cough another added worry, he feared getting to Fox Lake to find
Cecilia’s parents now was impossible. The horses were gone, the sun
seemed to be getting hotter with each second that passed, and their
health was suffering for it. Doug continuously rambled on about
things and Ryan had gotten good at blocking him out.
The periodic dust storms were
also something that wasn’t helping the mood. The wind blew so hard
that the dust would sting their skin, leaving them sand blown, their
already vulnerable skin exposed for the damaging UV rays that were
literally baking them.
When they were close to the
river, Ryan would apply more mud as a homemade sunscreen but with as
dry as the weather was, it would crumble and fall off after only
thirty minutes. Their beards were helping protect their faces but
their arms were exposed, making the situation ten times more
miserable.
Ryan’s father had taken his
advice and was using the towel as a mask. Respiratory issues were
something you had to take seriously and with his father’s age, the
smallest problem could turn into a major health disaster. Medical
care was lacking and they had to treat it like they were back in the
old west days when a small cut could mean a death sentence.
“Y’all sure are quiet,”
Doug said as he shielded his eyes from the sun.
“Trying to conserve energy,
Doug. Besides, what the hell is there to talk about?”
“How far are we from Fox
Lake?”
Ryan looked toward the
horizon. What was once green pastures, lakes, and beautiful land was
now a desert wasteland of torn up trees, yellow grass, and constant
evaporation of the water supply where he once fished and camped.
Getting his bearings, he
licked his lips and cringed when no moisture came from his tongue.
Dehydration was setting in and he needed to refill his canteen.
“We’re not far.”
“Did you notice the smoke
behind us?” Darryl lifted the towel from his face and pointed
behind them.
Ryan hoped he was kidding, but
it would be a crappy thing to do and his dad would never do that in
times like this. Not wanting to look, he hoped whatever his father
had noticed would go away if Ryan didn’t turn to observe it.
Turning on his heel, his heart skipped a beat at the massive wall of
smoke that appeared almost as large as the dust wall that had come
through the day before. Orange flames licked the dry grasslands and
trees, completely killing off anything that had been spared in the
storms.
“Holy shit.”
It was the only thing Ryan
could think to say. Many emotions toyed with him, from them being
chased by it, to the fear of Harper Springs possibly already falling
victim to it. It was south of them in that direction and he had to
hold out hope that it stayed north of town. If not, everything Steve
and the men left behind had worked on would be demolished with no
hope of rebuilding.
And even worse, what if they
couldn’t escape? With his time on the fire department, he had
learned that they can move fast and catch people off guard. Dry
conditions ignite like gasoline and they were right in the middle of
it. What if Cecilia and Ty were trapped or killed? If the flames
didn’t get you, the smoke would suffocate you. A chill shot up his
spine. Death was after them and each time they narrowly escaped it,
something stronger came along, challenging them to the breaking
point.
“It has circled around us to
the north!” Doug pointed in front of them, his eyes wide. He was
always joking about something but at that moment, his eyes were as
wide as saucers with a genuine look of fear written across his face.
Ryan’s eyes trailed along
the rim of the fire and just as Doug has noticed, it was making a
large ring around them. Smoke billowed upward toward the sun,
shadowing the rays around them. It appeared as dark as night, though
it was mid-afternoon. The one hundred plus degree temperatures were
heightened from the flames and sweat poured from Ryan’s brow,
trickling into his eyelashes and beard and to his lips, the salt of
his own bodily fluid thick on his tongue.
“We gotta get moving. Now!”
Ryan’s voice shook as he tried to find an opening in the fire ring.
“That way!” It was northeast and closing fast.
Their pace quickened to a run
and his leg screamed out in pain. The tightness of the stitches
tugged at his sore skin but he couldn’t succumb to it. If they
ripped open it was a small price to pay to get away from the fire.
Inspiration to get out and not burn to death kept him moving and each
time he took a step, the pain got worse. He gritted his teeth,
checked behind him and his father was right on his hip, matching him
step for step. Doug was about fifty yards ahead, his healthy legs
helping his sprint move right along.
The rugged land wasn’t
making it easy. Uneven pastures, ruts, and turn-rows where farmers
once plowed were hindering them going any faster. Ryan tried not to
look at the ground too much but when he glanced to make sure he’d
dodge a hole, he noticed the blood soaking into his jeans. It
could’ve been an old stain from before but it was too red and fresh
not to be current. The stitches had definitely come loose. With each
step they took toward the small opening that the fire hadn’t
ravished yet, it was like it was moving backward, away from them.
The heat from the sun combined
with the flames was almost unbearable. Lack of water and good food
made his legs cramp up. Losing blood wasn’t helping but he kept
pushing. The thought of Cecilia and Ty was a constant inspiration to
push through all of his body’s warnings to stop and lay down.
Survival mode was on in full force, and though he had outrun the
tornadoes, this was an all new challenge that was proving to get the
best of him.
Ryan’s pace slowed. His
father moved ahead of him and glanced over his shoulder, motioning
for Ryan to hurry. He tried hard – his lungs burned so bad that
they ached in his chest. As they got closer to the outer ring of the
fire, the smoke got worse, making the visibility almost zero.
Breathing became impossible and the edges of Ryan’s vision grew
blurry and black. He couldn’t see Doug anymore and was about to
lose sight of his father.
With each breath he took in,
his body begged for a deeper breath, like he didn’t know how to
breathe. He imagined this was how a fish felt out of the water,
gasping and longing for energy to survive. He slowed down and his
legs felt like noodles. Weak with limited energy, he tripped on
something he couldn’t see and fell to the ground below him. His
head hit hard and his already blurry vision went completely black.
The last thing he heard was the crackling of the flames only yards
away, eating everything in its path.
DROUGHT WARNING: THE DAMAGED CLIMATE SERIES BOOK 2 -- COMING SOON!
