Wednesday, December 11, 2013

A Creighton Hill Anniversary

One year ago, yesterday, I was at Disney World, at Hollywood Studios. After a wonderful day at the park, we went back to our resort where we could see the fireworks at Magic Kingdom and Epcot from our window. And that night, December 10, 2012, with the fireworks outside the window, I penned, or rather penciled, the first words of Creighton Hill.

It has been a difficult book to write, and still needs much work, but I am happy to be able to say that I am now halfway through the story, at the point which I have decided to break it into two books. It has changed a good bit from the original idea I had many years ago, but this is a logline of the story as I currently see it going:

In a perilous quest that spans two worlds, four siblings must team up with their long-lost ancestors and a rebellious slave to deliver an enslaved people from the cruel Strytes who invaded their land.

And this is the prologue I wrote one year ago at Disney World:

    "It was July first, 1800 the day George Hubbard disappeared. He was just a boy, twelve years old, a good lad, not one to run away. His family thought he was kidnapped, the neighbors thought he had been murdered, but no one knows what really happened to George Hubbard. No trace of him was ever found. Ever since that day, every twenty years, a child of twelve years old, born a Hubbard, in this very house, has disappeared mysteriously, leaving no trace. Next time . . . next time it might be one of you!"
    "Is it really true, Grampa?" a wide-eyed boy of five asked.
    "Of course it is," the old man told his grandson.
    "No it isn't," a very matter-of-fact seven year old girl contradicted. "You're just joshing us, Grampa, I know. No one can mysteriously disappear leaving no trace. It isn't realistic."
    "You're right, Emily," her grandfather said thoughtfully. "It isn't realistic. However, a good many things happen in this world that are not realistic, things supernatural."
    "I still don't believe it," Emily said.
    A girl of four climbed up on her Grampa's lap. "I believe you," she said.
    "I know you do, Jill," the old man said. "I know you do."

It'll be a while before Creighton Hill is ready to be published, it still needs a lot of work. Right now, though, my other books, Across the Stars and The Experiment, are on sale for Christmas. The details are on this page. Merry Christmas!

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