On my way out, I pass by a makeshift shrine dedicated to a baby shot by an unknown thug. There are balloons and flowers and stuffed toys and candles; I think I also saw a picture of the child. The story was in the news and it surprised me that it was so close by. There are many such shrines in this part of the world, not all for children; gang violence in South Central Los Angeles is as common as sunburns are during summer. Not far down the street is a wall spray painted by a pseudo-professional. It depicts a picture of the Grim Reaper and a Stop sign close by; the words "Stop the Madness and Increase the Peace" are painted next to them.
It's a sad comedy. The shrines and the wall art are constant reminders that life here is full of these fictions. We remember the dead and the dead love us for it. We love death in Los Angeles and we fear it, always looking over our shoulders.
I finished the guest posts and the interview questions and once again I'm free to write fiction! One of the projects I want to tackle is Book Two of the Elohim Trilogy, Ascension.The preceding section of this post is an example of the dark subjects covered in the second book. The main theme of the first book in my trilogy dealt with forgiveness. The main theme of the second novel is a fear and love of death. Here is a line of dialogue from the second book that's sticking to my head:
"To love death is to love life, Detective Adams; one begets the other."
I've also been working on a short story, a Science Fiction Horror tale, and refining a children's short novel titled The Sprite. I'm giddy with titles today! These are for submissions to the regular publishing folks, not self-publishing. My friend Elizabeth Barone inspired me to do these things. I always love reading about a young writer pushing forward with submissions.
I hope to have the short story done this week to submit before the 30th. It's going to the Writers of the Future Contest. I don't have high expectations for it (I mean I am not giving my mind much time with it before sending it out).
But it will get me into the groove of revising for submissions. If the short story gets an honorable mention, I will be surprised.
Enough talking shop. How was your day? Oh, but we're out of time. I'm sure you'll tell me how you're doing in passing. It always works out that way, doesn't it? We wander about, we talk to each other, we gossip and laugh and in the end we go back to sleep. How the sun can cross the threshold to do it all over again is beyond me...