Yes, I’ve been away this summer. Needed the time away but I’m coming back.
Kuruko & Orcha is now a published book available to but on Amazon for your kindle. I’ve also started my own publishing company; Darkwolf Press. Now, the only things I’ll be publishing is on Kindle, at least for right now.
Anyway, more on it later.
As some of you know, I’ve been working on my Sci-fi novel off and on the last few years. It’s had its moments. There are some things I like and some things I don’t like. It’s finally starting to work more. I’ve left out some chapters I liked but didn’t really need. The genesis of this story goes way back some twenty-six years when I began writing a story called The Star Warrior. It reached five hundred hand written pages plus a sequel that went unfinished at about two hundred and fifty pages. I’ve been using some of that material that I remember. The five hundred page story no longer exists. I lost it many years ago though I do still have the very first chapters of it. A friend of mine even drew the pictures that I still have of it. I have about 80 percent of the sequel though its not as good as the original. Anyway, back to the main idea of this post. I plan to start a new blog with this story. Don’t worry, this one will remain. I just want this story to hold it’s own. As of this post, I have the first five chapters of my first draft done. I’ve also created a dictionary and a have a decent character overlay as well. I’ll be posting more information on this blog when it comes up.
In his twenty-plus years, Aran Thazgo had always felt different. It started with his last name, Thazgo. He looked and looked for anyone with that surname and as far as he knew, did not exist anywhere. The orphanage he grew up in didn’t keep very good records, which for 2151 was not very good. He had been found on the steps of the orphanage with only his name and a note stating his parents were dead. The note didn’t reveal the names of his parents. Though he long ago accepted the fact that he may never find out where he came from, it still weighed heavily on his mind.
Another aspect of his feeling different was his athletic ability and how every thing came easily for him. He was rather tall, standing six feet; three inches and weighed nearly two hundred and fifteen pounds. He was rather built and had a lean, muscular physique. He was quick, agile, and extremely fast. That served him well when he was in a fight. He was picked on when he was younger, but it didn’t last long. The bullies wanted no part of him when he fought back. He was also very intelligent as he graduated from school a year early. The future seemed bright for him as he planned on joining Starfleet Academy, which was the planet’s foremost school for space exploration.
What bugged him the most, though, was the dreams. He’d had them since he could remember. They were of a young woman with soft, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. She would always talk but he could never hear her. There was often a sad feeling about her as if she was longing to tell him something. She would then smile and fade away. He just wished he knew who she was and if she was real or just a dream.
These thoughts often pervaded him when he woke each morning, It was always the same, wake up, try to remember anything about the woman in his dreams, relieve himself, shower, get dressed, check his mail and messages, eat, and then go about his day, which was now studying for the Academy. That was another of his peculiarities; his obsession with going into space. Most of his friends called him a “borderline loony” because of it. Aran smirked at that thought as he headed out his small apartment door and made his way to a hovercar that was waiting on him. Two of his closest friends were waiting impatiently for him. The driver was his best friend, Rodney Holdman, who was known as Hot Rod by most everyone. Hot Rod was compactly built, was even taller than Aran, and had an ego to match. he wouldn’t back down from anything, whether it was a dare or a fight. There was no one Aran would rather have have at his side in a scuffle. Waiting in the passenger seat was Hot Rod’s cousin and Aran’s girlfriend, Zoe Hawkins. She was of medium height, with a thin figure with long blonde hair and green eyes. She was a popular girl and Aran had no idea what she saw in him as she could have almost any guy she wanted. She was staring at him a bit angrily as he closed the door after he got in.
“What?” Aran asked
“You’re always running late,” she replied tersely. “We’re barely going to make it there on time.”
“Ah, cut him some slack, Zoe,” Hot Rod countered. “You know he’s not a morning person.”
Zoe turned around and folded her arms in disgust. She then glared menacingly at Hot Rod, who just smirked as he held out his right hand toward Aran who slapped it accordingly. This seemed to infuriate Summer even more as she sighed loudly. Aran understood her frustration and knew that she was concerned but he also knew that she also overreacted at times. Still, he knew that he had to make it up to her.
“Zoe, Look, I’m sorry, okay,” he said pleadingly. I didn’t sleep well again last night. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.”
Zoe turned around to face him. Though she was still upset with hi, she was also rather worried about him. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?” She asked. “How long, exactly, has this been going on?”
“Several weeks, I guess,” Aran lied as Hot Rod looked back at him.
“You want to go see a doctor?” She asked.
Aran shook his head, “No, not right now,” he replied. “If it continues then maybe.”
Hot Rod gave Zoe a look of “just drop it” before she could reply. She turned back around and didn’t say another word. Hot Rod gave a sigh of relief. He knew why and he also knew it had been going on a lot longer than several weeks. The look he had thrown at Aran was one of annoyance. He didn’t understand why Aran just didn’t tell Summer the reason. It was something they had argued about before. Aran’s conclusion that she wouldn’t understand didn’t sit too well with Hot Rod. He felt that he needed to be up front about the reasons for his rough nights.