Poem – One Chance

I have another “Randall Madden Original” for everyone this week. I’ve been reminded this week that things can end at any point, and that chasing after the financial to the exclusion of all else leaves us as little more than slaves.

As well as my words will allow, here is a poem on the subject.

One Chance

This world is not a circle

One day, it too, will end

Sun’s fire, or God’s Judgment

It’s fate simply won’t bend

And yet we scurry onward

Seek progress for its own sake

While love is growing colder

And real is becoming fake

Arts are pushed aside

No time for them, you see

We’ve got to make more money

Golden chains, no longer free

Yet willingly, necks are offered

Into financial stocks

They rage and pull to free themselves

But down have slammed the locks

So there they stand in courtyard

All our people, village fools

They call for one to free them

Yet those free all know the rules

For those who dance are poorer

Yet have the heart to leap

For their necks aren’t overburdened

And their time’s their own to keep

So the rich-robed, in chains, languish

While the ragged remnant dance

So choose gold bonds, or happy rags

For you only get one chance.

Randall Madden

April 17, 2015

Poem – On the plains of Picardy

I’ve been reading The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War this week. It is a book penned by Martin Gilbert, and discusses the appalling loss of human life during the Somme campaign of World War I. Throughout, Mr. Gilbert discusses the effect it had on the troops, and showcases some of the excellent poetry that was written throughout.

One of the most human elements of this war for me came in the form of the poetry that was written. If you’ve never looked at it, you’re truly missing out on some thought-provoking pieces on the state of man, and how much harm we’re capable of doing to one another. The piece I selected to share with you today was written by Captain Hugh Stewart Smith, and was found in his pocket after he was slain in the fighting.

On the plains of Picardy

Lay a soldier, dying

Gallantly, with soul still free

Spite the rough world’s trying.

Came the Angel who keeps guard

When the fight has drifted,

‘What would you for your reward

When the clouds have lifted?’

Then the soldier through the mist

Heard the voice and rested

As a man who sees his home

When the hill is breasted –

This his answer and I vow

Nothing could be fitter –

Give me peace, a dog, a friend

And a glass of bitter!

Captain Hugh Stewart Smith

1916

Poem – Between the Silence

Sometimes, things don’t go as planned in life. We lose those we love, and we’re left only with the memories. Though they might be a place of comfort, they are often imperfect, and they tragically fade with time.

This poem was built around the idea of those memories. It isn’t necessarily a happy piece, but it is one of the truest pieces I’ve ever made, and I relate to it in a way that I cannot explain. I hope you all enjoy it, and get half as much of an experience as I had writing it.

Between the Silence

You lived here once before

When there was so much time to kill

Now you dwell between the silence

And I know you are there still

When things become too loud

You’re impossible to see

Then the silence comes once more

And you’re waiting there for me

The quiet blinds my senses

And leaves me lost within

The tranquil, sighing hollows

Where I see your face again

With time the space there narrows

How I wish that it could last!

But the roar becomes a mutter

And too soon, the space has passed

With practice, could I find it?

Is it mind, or strength, or will?

You remain there in the silence

And I know you are there still.

Randall Madden

April 4, 2015

Camp NaNoWriMo 2015

Tomorrow begins Camp NaNoWriMo, a second month full of writing for those of us who can’t get enough punishment in November! The goal is once again to push through 50,000 words over the course of the month, getting each writer who participates that much closer to finishing their work.

I’m excited to get started on Dawnbringer 2 once again. I’ve been so lost in getting Dawnbringer ready for the publisher, I really haven’t messed with the work on D2 since last November. I will probably give it a quick reread tonight before midnight to get myself reacquainted. The plan is to knock out my first two thousand words right out of the gate, while my energy is high!

To any aspiring writers who have never given NaNoWriMo a try, I couldn’t recommend it more. If you’re willing to hold your own feet to the fire and be self-motivated, it is an excellent way to move your story forward. The focus is not on editing; just write, write, write!

For those of you who are already a part of the crazy train that is Camp NaNo, I will see you all in a few hours; the fate of Cestre hangs in the balance!

www.campnanowrimo.org

Counting the Days

The final round of edits concludes today, with the exception of my last rewrite. It is still in process, and will undergo one last bout of edits before the book goes out for the query process. I’m excited as I reread the manuscript, because I think I’m truly on to something good.

I’m working with a local artist on getting a map set up and drawn out to accompany the manuscript, and for the first time in quite a while I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Each time I’ve thought that I was rolling into the station, I’ve found another tunnel that must be endured on the long march to publication.

Still, I know that there is a good chance the publisher at the far end will put my manuscript back on the train for a little bit longer of a ride. There is always the chance that they won’t like what I’ve written, or that they will feel another rewrite is in order. Patience is the name of the game at this point, and I’m desperately trying to keep that in perspective.

The book is almost ready!

Knowing When to Stop

I’m a perfectionist. I know that many writers will fall into that camp by nature, but I can only speak for myself. I constantly criticize my own work, looking at it over and over to see what more I can squeeze out of it to make it better.

I’ve really been experiencing this with my Dawnbringer series. I planned to have it ready for submission to agents by the beginning of this year, yet here I am working through one more edit. I’ve added a new set of characters, been through three edits, and listened to a series of “alpha readers” and made some adjustments based on their feedback. I’m now completely rewriting one of the story arcs, and trying desperately to finish one last round of proofreading.

In short, I’m calling an end to the madness! You must know when your work is good enough, and for now, I’ve reached that point. I’m completing this last batch of edits, and then the project is going out to a set of agents for consideration. I could dwell at this stage forever, given my perfectionist tendencies. I simply must set my foot down, take a chance, and send it out.

I may forever wonder if I misspelled a word somewhere in the text I submit, but it has no chance sitting on my desk. Wish me luck; before March is out, I will begin the submissions process!

Poem – Thaw

With all the crazy weather in my area recently, it seems appropriate that my mind is stuck on cold weather. I’ve also been in a moody place recently, reflecting on the nature of man and how we come to be so distrustful and cynical. I decided to roll the two together, as I was watching the last of the snows melt.

Thaw

The virgin white drifts all around

Cascade of perfect flakes

I know I must trod purest field

Though a step, the perfect breaks

Such beauty in this world I see

Moonlight off unstained glass

The path is lost in powdered sheet

Until cold travelers pass

Like nature’s beauty, soul shines clean

Despite inherent flaw

Yet rises sun, as trials come

And purest clothing thaws.

Randall Madden

February 27, 2015