The Writer Exposes Himself…

… AND INVITES COMMENT

The cycle of a writer’s life is best described as long periods of time underwater with an occasional surfacing to discover the world is still there. The underwater time is spent in solitude making something that can only be created alone—some poems, a few stories, a novel. And once that creation is finished and ready to be shared, the writer reluctantly steps onto land to announce his project done and introduce it to the public.

It is at this moment that the writer feels most exposed. Exposed, that is, to whatever critical reception his creation will enjoy or suffer. In any case, endure. It is a time of uncertainty, anxiety, even fear. What has been private is now revealed for all to see. Though of course the writer’s first concern is that the now-completed work be seen at all. That it be published, that it reach an audience. That it be read.

I am somewhat surprised, then, to be overtaken by these same feelings at the completion not of a collection of stories or a novel, but at the unveiling of a website. Well, it has been a long time coming. Years, really, if one considers the thinking behind it. And months of actual work in executing its design and content.

And now, finally, it is launched into the wider world. Here it is. You are reading its first blog entry. And what can I say? I hope you like it? I hope you explore it? I hope you find it interesting?

I hope you do all those things. And toward that end, I’ve included some material not normally found on a fiction writer’s website: magazine articles I’ve written, and newspaper dispatches filed over the years; also, poems and philosophical writings. The predictable material is here, too. The information on my books, especially the e-books that have been such a focus for me these past six months. Eight of them in all, counting foreign language editions, along with some book reviews. And some photographs you may find interesting. Eventually, there will be some videos, as well.

As I look now at the website, I am most struck by one thought: How could it take so much work to finish what is, in the end, not quite as impressive a creation as I’d first imagined? Then I remember: This is always the case with anything we make. No one else knows what went into the undertaking. What finally shows is but the tip of the iceberg, and only the creator knows what remains underwater unseen, unfathomed, forever unknown.

So do please just take my word for it. Creating this website was a chore, getting it into shape to be seen has been a feat, I am relieved to have it done. And I hope you will find the effort worthwhile. Feel free to leave comments, tell me what you think of the work you find presented on the pages of the site. You also can use the contact button to send me a note. And if you like what you see, you can click on the orange button above the Amazon panel at the right and sign up to receive an email notice whenever I add something new to the site.

What else? I suppose you could buy one of my e-books. That would be nice. After all, it’s how I earn my rice bowl: writing things, and people paying to read them. It finances all that time I spend underwater, alone, in a solitude to which I became accustomed long ago. Still, I do plan to surface every now and then to write another personal blog entry for the website. Not every day, but at least once a month.

Until the next time, do take time to read the other material I’ve posted here on the site. There’s a quite a lot of it, and quite a variety, too. I do hope you enjoy it and take time to comment.

As ever,

Christopher

 

“Troubadour”

for John

 

Is it music you want?
I will dispatch a dozen notes;
They will arrive by bird, by horseback, by morning.
Arrange them on the mantel in a dozen fluted vases;
Admire them from a distance;
Moan when the sunlight embraces each golden bloom;
Sigh with the breeze through the open window;
Cry out with each falling petal.
On your knees weep for the beauty
That has been lost by insolence, by neglect.
Then rise, and putting the strands of your hair in order,
Wiping your eyes,
Go to the piano listing in one corner
And lightly drop one finger on an ivory key,
Then listen in the deepening silence
For the rose and lavender echoes
That rise like smoke from an autumn fire,
That fall like autumn leaves from the sycamores,
That arrange themselves like lacework about your feet.

It was music you wanted…
I send a symphony.

 

(Prague — August 9, 2001)

 

Cloven Tongues of Fire — A Novella

“At its heart this is a moving tale of tenderness and the things we do for love, of how a relationship between two people endures, despite time and change and aging.”
      —A Reader

“As a fellow writer, and former writing coach, I’m aware of excellent writing when I see it. Not only does Cook tell good stories, he writes with a beautiful prose style that sweeps the reader along, yet does not get in the way of the story.”
      —Eva Hunter, Mexico

 A spiritual story, a religious story, a love story. This novella is all three in one. It’s the story of a man, Nathan Tillery, who sets out to seek salvation… and runs into a wall. It’s the story of his loving wife, Emma Jean, who keeps faith with both to her husband and her beliefs… though even she begins to have doubts.

Must embracing Jesus and receiving the Holy Ghost become such an ordeal? And if it does, what does that mean? Building on themes similar to those explored in the author’s earlier award-winning book “Screen Door Jesus & Other Stories”, this beautifully crafted novella will make you smile, and laugh, and finally cry.

“I became a Christopher Cook fan when I read Screen Door Jesus & Other Stories, then followed it up with Robbers. Now I read everything he puts out.”
     —A Reader

“…a lyric voice that sings itself raw.”
     —The New York Times

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