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Hi there…

In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t posted much original material up here lately. The writing is going… well, it’s going. At least I haven’t given up on it, I can say that. I finished revising draft 3 of Dwarves of Katie Elder, but I kinda sped through the end. Because, like I said in a previous post, I’m not going to do all those big changes that alter the story and add filler. And frankly, I was getting sick of it.

But I feel like I’ve said all I need to say in terms of blog posts. I’ve made my peace with video game storytelling. I’ve gone through all the Disney movies. I don’t have any new books started yet (but I’m anticipating) that I can talk about that won’t get my own site blocked at work. Must have been part of that 35-year-old paradigm shift I had. It’s hard enough fighting the feelings of ennui to keep myself writing.

Many days pass and I think “Is this even worth it anymore?” Twelve years of writing and nothing to show for it. I’m never going to make one of those ‘researched’ books like Circe or Outlander or A Discovery of Witches. And I keep reading these books that are huge and the plots are great but the pacing is shit. Shit I say. I don’t need every little nuance, every doily on the coffee table described. I don’t want imagery. I can manage the imagery myself. I want plot. I want a book that’s a manageable length. Just because you can write 700 pages doesn’t mean you should. Don’t you think that’s a red flag that your book could use a little editing?

Okay, enough with the venting.

Anyway, it means I haven’t read anything good for a while. Nothing that sparks joy. Nothing that gives me that same feeling when I first read A Wrinkle in Time or The Perks of Being a Wallflower or We Were Liars or Old Man’s War. No, it’s been 1950’s drug-addled sci-fi and long-winded historical urban fantasy.

But these are the books that look good, and I tried them out. But for some reason the reading experience fails to ignite. Is it me? Is it that reaching 35 jaded me and now I can’t receive joy from anything? Am I too picky? Is this what writing is supposed to be? If it is, I don’t want to write like that. And then what hope do I have?

Sorry, vented. Won’t happen again.

Well, I hate to leave a good blog unattended, especially since I’m paying for a website now. Might as well get some use out of it. And out of a manuscript that I still like. I understand why it failed to gain an agent, but I like the characters and I like the plot. I put a lot of work into it, and it still holds a special place. So if no agents want to read it, you might as well.

Black Hole Son

So Eric J. Juneau productions presents… Black Hole Son — the infamous first original novel I wrote with the intention of getting published. It’s a zipper novel set in the future about two psychic boys — one telemetric, the other pyrokinetic — and their adventures as they wander around the city, trying to find each other. It’s about angst and what’s wrong with the world and the extremes we may need to reach to fix it.

That doesn’t sound terribly intriguing, does it? Here, maybe the original query letter will do it…

Rion and Ash are twin brothers, but neither knows the other exists. They wake up in different parts of a sprawling metropolis with few possessions, strange powers, and amnesia.

When Rion picks up a book, visions flash, and he realizes he can read the history of objects. He tries to help people with this power, such as an abused woman he meets in a hotel, but is torn between finding his identity and curing his loneliness.

Ash wakes up in an alley. When he loses his temper at a free clinic, he discovers his pyrokinesis. Like Remy, he has a strong sense of justice and joins the White Knights, a volunteer neighborhood patrol group. But the more crime he sees, the harder it is not to use his power to make everything simpler.

Meanwhile, two parties are trying to get in contact with both — a young female cop who wants to help, and two men in black suits with a secret weapon they don’t want to use.

Rion and Ash’s parallel journeys lead them back to the CEO of a tyrannical pharmaceutical company. In the final confrontation, they discover that, despite their instincts, the greatest threat to humanity is themselves.

Does that sound like something worth reading? If you think so, stay tuned. I’ll be releasing Black Hole Son chapter-by-chapter over the next months. I figure John Scalzi did the same thing and it got him an agent, I might as well try the same thing.

Eric Juneau is a software engineer and novelist on his lunch breaks. In 2016, his first novel, Merm-8, was published by eTreasures. He lives in, was born in, and refuses to leave, Minnesota. You can find him talking about movies, video games, and Disney princesses at where he details his journey to become a capital A Author.

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