Category Archives: Book Updates

How Much Can I Write Before It Rains?

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If this blog seems a bit light on nooze today, it’s because I have to use the time to work on Bell Mountain No. 13, The Wind From Heaven–a wind which is blowing my characters this way and that, some of them to places that they never knew existed.

With a dozen chapters written so far, I have no idea where the story is going to take me: I just hang on for dear life and hope I’m still hanging on when it gets there. I ask the Lord every day to give me the story that He wants me to tell, and do my best to tell it. Good thing I’ve got really sharp editors to back me up!

We have thunderstorms in our afternoon forecast, so I’d better get out there as soon as I can. There’s an unexplored sector of Lintum Forest waiting for me, a crazy man who’s gotten a nation of barbarians to think he’s a god, and a fleet of ships turning up from no one knows where… among other things.


‘Author Interview with Lee Duigon'(2015)

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(Is anybody reading this?)

“Dragon Queen” did a very thorough job of this interview, a few years ago. No one’s interviewed me lately. Rush Limbaugh wants to, but he doesn’t know it.

https://leeduigon.com/2015/02/23/author-interview-with-lee-duigon/

Actually, I’ve done a lot of interviews–but hardly any with anyone who’s read my books. Oh, well…


That’s All, Folks!

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See this balloon with all the air let out of it. That’s me!

I’ve just finished typing the first half-dozen chapters of The Wind From Heaven, 10,000 words and change–it has sunk me deep into the typo zone–and submitting it to Susan, my editor.

Next up: write that humongous article about Internet censorship for Chalcedon. The deadline looms. Still no word from any of you who have experienced Internet censorship. I hate to go on without you, but what can I do?

I must rest!

See you later, when it’s cat video time.


Mr. Nature: An Improbable Critter

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Jambo! Mr. Nature here; and today our safari takes us to an unexplored corner of Lintum Forest, by way of the Triassic Period. It will feature in Bell Mountain No. 13, The Wind From Heaven, which I’m writing now.

Behold Tanystropheus, with its improbably long neck. This fossil was so weird, that when its first pieces were discovered, the scientist thought it might be wing bones from a pterodactyl. But eventually enough pieces were found to yield the reconstruction pictured above.

How did this animal live? There’s nothing even close to it around today, no living creature to compare it to. Did it squat on the shore and use its long neck as a kind of fishing pole? There aren’t enough bones in the neck to make it very flexible. So the answer is, we just don’t know.

Our Lord is a highly versatile Creator!

 


By Request: from ‘The Theologian and the Assassin’ (Bell Mountain Chapter 13)

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Requested by Joshua, an excerpt from my award-winning novel, Bell Mountain.

“[I]n a very nicely appointed private study with thick rugs and rich hangings on the walls, the First Prester, Lord Reesh, angrily rattled a sheet of paper in his hand.

“Do you know what this is?” he said. “It’s a letter from the burned fool who’s the prester at the new chamber house in a place called Ninneburky. It’s almost all the way up the river.”

“I know the town, my lord,” said the other man in the room–an unremarkable-looking fellow with a sad face and a little pointed beard.

“Good. Because you’re going there,” Lord Reesh said. “As soon as I explain this.

“Two children from Ninneburky have run away to climb Bell Mountain. You are to find them. If they are still on their way to the mountain when you overtake them, don’t interfere. Follow them. See to it that they get there. I want to know every single thing that happens to them, Martis. If they climb the mountain, climb after them. If they get to the top and find a bell, you are to prevent them from touching it, and no one is ever to see or hear from them again.”

The people of Ninneburky, even the prester himself, would have been appalled to learn that the First Prester had a confidential servant whose duties included killing people. For that is what Martis did, in addition to ferreting out secrets, spying, stealing, and arranging for certain persons to be accused of and punished for crimes they hadn’t committed. Not even the other oligarchs knew about Martis. To everyone in the city, he was only a clerk in the Temple. He even looked like a clerk.

But to Lord Reesh–who considered himself the first oligarch as well as the First Prester–he was a very necessary tool. And because he had served Lord Reesh for years, and never failed him, Martis enjoyed a certain liberty in speaking to his master.

“Do you think a pair of children might actually climb the mountain, my lord?” he said…

To find out how Martis the assassin fared in his mission, read Bell Mountain, the first book in the series, with 11 titles in print–so far. No. 12, His Mercy Endureth Forever, is currently being prepared for publication.

To order any of them, visit the blog’s home page and click “Books,” or visit http://www.chalcedon.edu and The Chalcedon Store.

 


Yow! Eight Pages!

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A beautiful day, cool and sunny, after it rained all day yesterday–and I just couldn’t wait to get outside and resume work on Bell Mountain No. 13, The Wind From Heaven.

That wind was blowing for me–eight pages, whoosh! I usually average around three, or four on a good day. So this day was special.

All right, I knew what this chapter was going to be about: just as often, I don’t. Man, when Lord Chutt finds out what happened in this chapter, he’ll hit the ceiling. The poor guy’s had a lot of unsettling surprises lately: sometimes it’s tough to be the villain.

May my work be fruitful in your service, Lord.


Dream or Vision? (Who Knows?)

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You know I make use of dreams when I’m writing a Bell Mountain novel.

The Wind from Heaven must be blowing for me, because here’s what I dreamed last night, which I will incorporate into the book as I write it.

It was one of those dreams in which you don’t know you’re dreaming because it starts out so mundane and ordinary. I dreamed it was night-time and I had to walk out to the curb to bring in the garbage cans. There seemed to be no traffic, no engine noise, out on Main Street–which should have tipped me off right there that I was dreaming.

The night was quiet and still, everybody’s lights were out… And as if from some great distance, I heard as it were the sound of many voices chanting:

“King Ozias! King Ozias! King Ozias!”

And just out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a great lion pass silently into the deeper shadows. It was Ozias, of course, who composed the sacred “Song of the Lion.” And it was Ozias, the last anointed king of Obann, who is the ancestor of the present king, Ryons–the first to hold the title “king of Obann” for some two thousand years.

I can hardly wait to get out there and write this into the story.

P.S.–If you missed earlier posts, The Wind from Heaven is the title of the new book I’ve just started writing.


An Obann Moment–for Me

Yesterday, before noon, in broad daylight, I was sitting in my chair outside, relaxing with a crossword puzzle, when I sensed something moving right beside me. For a moment I thought it was a big dog; but when I turned my head, I saw it was a deer. She jogged right past me, almost close enough to touch, and disappeared around the far corner of the building.

She didn’t make a sound, and was so light on her feet that she appeared to be floating on the air.

A minute later my neighbor came walking up, from the same direction as the deer.

“Did you see the deer that passed here, just a minute ago?” I asked.

“I followed it into the parking lot,” he said. “Just before that, it was following a woman who was walking her dog. I heard her say to the dog, ‘We’ve got to walk faster.'”

To me it was a special moment–an Obann moment, if you will. If you’ve been reading my books, you know there are a lot of strange animals moving into that country, sent by God from parts unknown. A deer in your yard, here in the Jersey suburbs, is almost as unusual a sight as the knuckle-bears in Lintum Forest. Almost like the stories I’ve been telling come to life.

I won’t forget it. Thank you, Lord–I take it as a sign that you know my work and have blessed it.


Not as Cute as a Quokka

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Well, Weavingword, you asked for it, so here it is–it’s me, at work. Writing The Wind From Heaven. I’m on Chapter 2. I have a long way to go, to catch Violet Crepuscular.

Pattytook the picture and somehow managed to get it into WordPress Media, or whatever it’s called. I’m sorry you can’t quite see my yellow legal pad, but them’s the breaks. We’re new at this.

And now I’ve got to finish Joe Collidge and see if I can capture a bit more book-writing time.


Ghaaa! (Frustration)

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I don’t have a piano, otherwise I’d be chewing the keys.

I wanted to go outside and work on my brand-new book today, The Wind from Heaven–and it’s raining. Like, it’s always raining. So instead I tackled my Newswithviews column, hoping the rain would stop by the time I finished it: but I have, and it hasn’t.

Why not just put the computer out of the way and write indoors?

Because I can’t write fiction indoors. Haven’t done it for ten years, at least. The phone rings, this happens half a dozen times a day, and it’s either nobody at all or else a fatzing robot pretending to be human and trying to get money out of me. I just can’t do that kind of writing indoors anymore. I need the trees and the sky.

Well, find some other tasks to do…


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