A January Writer’s Smörgåsbord

A January Writer’s Smörgåsbord

12455-robot-pictureNew Year.

New Month.

New oh lord it has been too long since I prattled on here.

So much for New Year’s resolutions, eh?

Since I’m not one of those fancy fellows with people to shout updates at you from the heavens, this is where this little author’s giving you the rundown on what you’ve been missing here in my silence. Call it the TOP FIVE rundown to one man’s madness.

  1. Book Delay – In case you missed it, somehow, AS FEATHERS FALL, the third and final book in the Haunted Shadows series was delayed until first quarter this year. It will be out sometime in the coming couple months. The writing is done, fear not. In fact, I will be posting a preview next month. Why then, the delay? This was due to…
  2. Editor Change – Due to very human issues, there was an 11th hour shakeup in those working on the book. My former editor will no longer be involved in the process. As this did not transpire until the last minute, prompting a very sudden shift/hunt, delays were an unfortunate necessity. I believe in quality over quantity, after all, and no writer should be the final editor for their work as well. Foreign eyes must be there to see what we become too familiar to see.
  3. Life is a fickle creature – Due to unforeseen circumstances (a very collective, mean-spirited group of them), my living circumstances are also taking a tumble and a dramatic shift. Naturally, this also contributed to the Book Delay. Therein, however, I will be landing on stable ground again at month’s end.
  4. To school, or not to school? – As if the previous wasn’t enough, I find myself at a crossroads on the career growth front. The looming question: do extensive training programs lie in my future,  an Associate’s Degree for a new path entire, or something else? Lots of questions. Many answers. The mind debates.
  5. Upcoming Publication – You heard it here first. Another short story of mine, CLINGING, is slated to appear in Raven International Publishing‘s A Bleak New World anthology in the coming months. So long Kansas; hello Dystopia. As I know more, so shall you, but keep your eyes peeled. That one will be a grim ride, but I can promise you Robots. Also puppies. What could go wrong?

That pretty well does it. It’s been a rocky start to a new year, coming off a rocky end to the old, but life will what it will, and we can but react and try to keep our heads. I still write, even when I go silent, and the results will always come back to you, gentle readers, one way or another. In the meanwhile, for your entertainment, here’s a shout-out blurb provided by friend and fellow writer Bryce David Salazar, author of She Sees Metaphors. May you enjoy his snark as much as I:

“Chris is the author of the Haunted Shadows Trilogy and a freelance writer in Michigan. His short story, The Child’s Cry has been published in Mystic Signals Magazine. He is also a filthy pig who can stream a sentence together better than most writers, and for that, Bryce wishes every foul act of god upon his head in something so hideous, even the Old Testament would soil its pants in fear.”

The New Year’s coming up Roses

Cheers, everyone, and here’s hoping your New Year is off to as fine a start as this little Spartan scribbler. Between a fine hat, some energetic friends, and screens getting flooded with green roses (you’ll understand momentarily), it was a unique (exhausting) and probably one of the better end of the year experiences in which I’ve partaken.

But I mentioned exhaustion, so while I hope the days to come will treat you all well, and I guarantee you this site will begin getting back into the swing of things, this is just going to be a quick, drive-by wave of a hello.

So, in essence, I’m just going to set these here…

A certain band of Spartans refused to back down...

A certain band of Spartans refused to back down…

...and I may have acquired a shiny new hat.

…and I may have acquired a shiny new hat.

They called us children once

They called us children once.

Before eyes were windows

dappled in our fogged night,

dawn proud; unknowing

shadowed play between locked fingers.

They called us children once.

There came silence to the cries

when our skin learned its shape,

the mewling crescendo of fingertips

drumming our answer in the twilit backseat.

 

They called us children once.

Until we danced.

Warning: Winter Ahead. Image by Chris Galford.

* I realize in recent days I’ve not been the most prolific of bloggers. No Inside Idasia. No crafty banter. A brief smattering of poems, a Christmas photo, and little else. Well, I just wanted to let you know that will be changing with the new year. I’ve been out of town and out of state, and between family, friends, and a distinct interest in a little break, I’ve been having myself a pretty good vanishing act. Tomorrow I return to Colorado, however, and Monday things should resume their usual pace.

But with that, I wish you all a happy New Year! The old was crazy enough here – between finally publishing, between the move out of state, between all the kind support and friendly community you all have provided…I think the new will be hard-pressed to top it, honestly, but I wouldn’t mind a good surprise. I hope it has been the same for all of you, and thank you simply for taking the time to swing by my humble little corner of the blogosphere. It has meant the world!

Hopes, Memories, and a little Creativity…

Michigan State Capitol Building, by Chris Galford

No Present

Caught himself along the past–

years passed before he ever realized

No Present.

So many are consumed by the past, and what has gone before, they forget to live in the present. As 2011 looms, I hope you reflect, but I also hope you take the time to look around you and enjoy a touch of the now.

Happy New Year’s Eve everyone!

Image care of Demotivational Posters.

I’d like to thank you all for all the support you’ve shown as readers, and peers…fellow writers and photographers all. That you’ve shared your works and encouraged and supported me in the sharing of my own has been a joy without end. I wasn’t sure how well the whole “young writer hitting the Big Bad Web” angle would go for me…you seem to see everyone everywhere trying it these days, and it certainly seems daunting to try and wade into such a hefty mass–amateurs, experts, and all manner of unseen forces lurking in the background, with the looming horror of plagiarism and creative theft.

And yet, things have gone better than I ever could have imagined. When I first started the Waking Den, I never would have dreamed there was such a vibrant and accepting community out there, just waiting to nurture and support fellow creative types. It has been an honor, yes, an honor, to read your comments on my own work, and to see and to read and pick through yours. There is a lot of talent out there, and it’s always a pleasure to discover new gems.

The One Shot Wednesday Mike

Another thing I never could have anticipated this year: One Stop Poetry. When I first started posting my poetry, and my photography, I thought I would be lucky if anyone swung through. I would have been happy with a couple comments here and there, be they critiques or praise. Yet then Leslie Moon came along, and through her I met the other wonderful founders of One Stop: Adam Dustus, Brian Miller and Pete Marshall. To be a part of that community, of such an up-and-coming site for creativity, was a joy among joys. Suddenly all those fellow poets were in one places, and they were sharing, and reading, and writing…it was the promised land.

When Leslie asked me on-board as a fellow manager, I was not only stunned, but ecstatic. Never in a million years could I have predicted that – and I couldn’t have asked for more. Since then I’ve gotten to work with Gay Cannon and Claudia Schoenfeld as well, two more managers added to the One Stop family. Between them and the founders, it’s a team without equal – and the experience has been both a blessing and a treasure. I get to interview photographers about their passion, see into the minds behind an art that has always fascinated and intrigued me. I get to share something I genuinely enjoy with the world-at-large.

And one can’t put a price on that.

Pure Michigan, by Chris Galford

Joy? I have a lot of it from this year. 2010 was a great year. I graduated, and not only that, I did so while acing every class. I had a great internship with the Lansing City Pulse that showed me first-hand how a real news organization works, and gave me an

See that guy in the fancy hat? That's me. Post-graduation with my father.

opportunity to flex my knowledge of the arts, as well as my photographic eye. I’ve climbed mountains, wandered beaches. I finished my first novel in a trilogy, “The Hollow March,” edited it, and gotten quality reviews back from its first readers. I’ve met new friends, joined a community of fellow writers, established a writer’s group in my own town, and have set about the ground work for hunting down publishers for short stories, poems and that fancy novel of mine. I’ve applied to law school, gotten my letters of recommendation, and now…I’m ready to hit the ground running.

If 2010 was a great year, I plan on making 2011 an amazing year. I hope you all will continue to support me as I do so – I couldn’t have come so far without all your kind words, your critiques, the inspiration of your presence.

And I hope above all that you all will have a wonderful year ahead as well. Here’s to the old year, and to the new – Cheers to all of you!

 

"Foggy Notions of Photography," by Chris Galford

Colorless

They would not toy with it, nor move it by and by,

for some irredeemable quality smothered within the sheet,

the colored tape amidst a sea of flashing life cries,

this rainbow city borne on secret chambers of the heart

no monitors nor viewfinders might seek,

and such writhe the passion, blinding hot,

its heaven lain beneath the glittering sheets,

fed upon the blood, all same scarlet–

they are mighty walls they raise between the dying and the dead,

but beneath the sheet, the flash enfolds

the bone, always bone–

the city all men walk, though the hearts might beat them down

and grind them into dust.

* My contribution to the last One Shot Poetry Wednesday before the New Year! One I wrote several months ago, during a philosophical bent following a rather long and heated discussion between several friends on man, and the world, and all that fun stuff.

And as an aside, let me just take a moment to thank you all for all the support you’ve shown this year, both to me, and to One Stop Poetry. It’s been great delving into the online poetry community, and to find so many of you so willing and supportive of reading, and sharing the art we all love. I hope the year has been as good for you as it has for me.

I know I look forward to seeing more of what you have to offer in the days to come – and I hope you all continue to enjoy what you find here in my humble little den.

Cheers, everyone.

Merry Christmas!

A Christmas greeting and well-wishes from all of us at One Stop Poetry! May all the season treat you well, and find you right, as we wind our way through these wonderful holidays, and into a New Year.

And featuring, “Christmas Bells,” a Poem by the famous Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882):

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’”